The Wild Huntsman - Tal Koschevar's Story
May 19, 2020 8:27:23 GMT -5
mandene, Warlord, and 1 more like this
Post by winterglass on May 19, 2020 8:27:23 GMT -5
(I don't play this alt much at all right now, but I got bitten by the writing bug when thinking on his back-story. So here I present a little Rashemi folk-tale.)
Rashemen is a land of many tales.
Many of them are dark and terrible, cautionary lessons for life in a wild and dangerous land.
Some of them are true.
~ 1: A Fair Maid of Rashemen ~
Once there was a town upon the borders of the deep, dark Ashenwood forest, and once there lived a woman fair and gentle, wise and prudent, generous of heart, and few there were that did not love her.
But she chose for her husband an outsider, a rover, a man of the wild and wicked Nar, and few there were that understood.
Time, tide and trouble took him from her side, but first she bore from him a son whose name was Tal, named for the father of his father, and she raised him as well as she could in the customs of her people.
~ 2: Lessons Learned ~
When Tal was just a little boy, he sought to join in the games of the other children, but they heard the whispers of their parents and they said to him, "Away with you, half-blood, Nar-blood! We are true-born Rashemi, and you are not like us."
And Tal ran from them, and sought solace amid the meadow-flowers and the gentle melodies of bird-song.
The winters and the summers turned, and the boy grew and grew, and he loved the gods, the kind and bountiful Bhalla most of all. He sought out a priest and told him of the meadows that he loved, and begged to swear his life to the priesthood of the harvest queen. But the priest heard the whispers of the villagers, and said to him, "This will not do! It's true that you are devout, but the people will never let you lead them in worship. For they are true-born Rashemi, and you are not like them."
And Tal quarrelled furiously with the priest, and left, and sought solace amid the ancient trees and the secret paths of wild creatures.
The winters and the summers turned, and the boy grew and grew, and as young men will, he fell in love with a beautiful warrior, son of the town's fyrra. And he courted him, and showed him the hidden forest paths that he loved. For a time they were happy and thought to marry, but the warrior heard the whispers of his father and said to Tal, "O my love, forgive me, but we cannot be together. My family are true-born Rashemi, and you are not like us."
And Tal walked away without a parting word, and no solace could he find.
~ 3: The Proud Prisoner ~
One fine summer's day, a travelling show visited, with many a wonder never before seen in that little town - sword-swallowers, peddlers of marvellous cures, jugglers of flaming knives, and in pride of place a great black hunting-cat that stalked restlessly behind bars of iron, ever snarling and raging at her wretched imprisonment and the fools who came to gawk.
When night fell so deeply that the beast was but another pool of shadow amid many, Tal came a-creeping back to the fairground, and there he found her.
No words he spoke, but by the art he had learned in the wild and lonely places, he knew the mind of the beast and she knew his.
And in shared sorrows they found a kinship most profound. Vyeri he offered as a name for her; in an old tongue this means Proud; and she gave him likewise a name in her own silent way.
Clever human hands opened the lock of the cage. Fierce pantherish jaws crushed the skulls of the men set on watch. And into the velvet-rich dark of a hot summer's night they fled together, man and beast.
~ 4: A Man-Hunt ~
Many a hunter sought out the wild man and his murderous beast. Many boasted in their cups of how they would bring back the heads of both. Very few found the merest trace of their passing.
In frustration the search was all but called off, when at last spoke up the priest of Bhalla.
"I knew this wicked murderer when he was little, and ever he would speak of the meadows that he loved. We should seek him there."
Then spoke the fyrra's son.
"I knew this vile monster not long ago, and I know the wild places where he wandered. We should seek him there."
And so they did. The hunters, the priest and the warrior tracked Tal and Vyeri through the footprints they had left in the lush meadows, deep into the woods along the secret ways they had taken, but in their eagerness the hunters wandered apart from one another, and thus did hunters become prey.
Through seven days and nights they died, one after another, in moments of blood and terror and brief, choked-off screams.
At last, only two survivors, the priest and the warrior, made their stand amid a little forest glade. They could not escape, for the trackers all were slain and they knew not the way home, so they waited for the end and resolved to die well.
~ 5: Face to Face ~
It was then that they saw him at the trees' edge, ragged and yet proud, the panther Vyeri an ink-black stalking shadow at his heels. And blood was upon the jaws of the panther and the chin of the man. And their courage left them at that sight.
"Mercy, for the gods' sake!", implored the priest. "Remember your reverence for Bhalla and for the beauty of the land!"
"Mercy, for the sake of our love!", begged the warrior. "Remember the tenderness that we shared!"
Slowly Tal shook his head. He took no joy in this, but every hunt - just like every tale - must have its ending.
"I understand now that you are true-born Rashemi", replied he.
"And I am not like you."
~ The End ~
Rashemen is a land of many tales.
Many of them are dark and terrible, cautionary lessons for life in a wild and dangerous land.
Some of them are true.
~ 1: A Fair Maid of Rashemen ~
Once there was a town upon the borders of the deep, dark Ashenwood forest, and once there lived a woman fair and gentle, wise and prudent, generous of heart, and few there were that did not love her.
But she chose for her husband an outsider, a rover, a man of the wild and wicked Nar, and few there were that understood.
Time, tide and trouble took him from her side, but first she bore from him a son whose name was Tal, named for the father of his father, and she raised him as well as she could in the customs of her people.
~ 2: Lessons Learned ~
When Tal was just a little boy, he sought to join in the games of the other children, but they heard the whispers of their parents and they said to him, "Away with you, half-blood, Nar-blood! We are true-born Rashemi, and you are not like us."
And Tal ran from them, and sought solace amid the meadow-flowers and the gentle melodies of bird-song.
The winters and the summers turned, and the boy grew and grew, and he loved the gods, the kind and bountiful Bhalla most of all. He sought out a priest and told him of the meadows that he loved, and begged to swear his life to the priesthood of the harvest queen. But the priest heard the whispers of the villagers, and said to him, "This will not do! It's true that you are devout, but the people will never let you lead them in worship. For they are true-born Rashemi, and you are not like them."
And Tal quarrelled furiously with the priest, and left, and sought solace amid the ancient trees and the secret paths of wild creatures.
The winters and the summers turned, and the boy grew and grew, and as young men will, he fell in love with a beautiful warrior, son of the town's fyrra. And he courted him, and showed him the hidden forest paths that he loved. For a time they were happy and thought to marry, but the warrior heard the whispers of his father and said to Tal, "O my love, forgive me, but we cannot be together. My family are true-born Rashemi, and you are not like us."
And Tal walked away without a parting word, and no solace could he find.
~ 3: The Proud Prisoner ~
One fine summer's day, a travelling show visited, with many a wonder never before seen in that little town - sword-swallowers, peddlers of marvellous cures, jugglers of flaming knives, and in pride of place a great black hunting-cat that stalked restlessly behind bars of iron, ever snarling and raging at her wretched imprisonment and the fools who came to gawk.
When night fell so deeply that the beast was but another pool of shadow amid many, Tal came a-creeping back to the fairground, and there he found her.
No words he spoke, but by the art he had learned in the wild and lonely places, he knew the mind of the beast and she knew his.
And in shared sorrows they found a kinship most profound. Vyeri he offered as a name for her; in an old tongue this means Proud; and she gave him likewise a name in her own silent way.
Clever human hands opened the lock of the cage. Fierce pantherish jaws crushed the skulls of the men set on watch. And into the velvet-rich dark of a hot summer's night they fled together, man and beast.
~ 4: A Man-Hunt ~
Many a hunter sought out the wild man and his murderous beast. Many boasted in their cups of how they would bring back the heads of both. Very few found the merest trace of their passing.
In frustration the search was all but called off, when at last spoke up the priest of Bhalla.
"I knew this wicked murderer when he was little, and ever he would speak of the meadows that he loved. We should seek him there."
Then spoke the fyrra's son.
"I knew this vile monster not long ago, and I know the wild places where he wandered. We should seek him there."
And so they did. The hunters, the priest and the warrior tracked Tal and Vyeri through the footprints they had left in the lush meadows, deep into the woods along the secret ways they had taken, but in their eagerness the hunters wandered apart from one another, and thus did hunters become prey.
Through seven days and nights they died, one after another, in moments of blood and terror and brief, choked-off screams.
At last, only two survivors, the priest and the warrior, made their stand amid a little forest glade. They could not escape, for the trackers all were slain and they knew not the way home, so they waited for the end and resolved to die well.
~ 5: Face to Face ~
It was then that they saw him at the trees' edge, ragged and yet proud, the panther Vyeri an ink-black stalking shadow at his heels. And blood was upon the jaws of the panther and the chin of the man. And their courage left them at that sight.
"Mercy, for the gods' sake!", implored the priest. "Remember your reverence for Bhalla and for the beauty of the land!"
"Mercy, for the sake of our love!", begged the warrior. "Remember the tenderness that we shared!"
Slowly Tal shook his head. He took no joy in this, but every hunt - just like every tale - must have its ending.
"I understand now that you are true-born Rashemi", replied he.
"And I am not like you."
~ The End ~