There I was, walking through some kind of sandstone canyon. The air was shimmering with heat, and the sun beat down like a molten hammer. I might have heard them perhaps, had I not been so diminished by heat and thirst. As it was, I was taken by surprise when the first bolt whizzed past me to clatter off of the stone.
I looked up as I was unslinging my bow. There were four human raiders standing on a rock outcropping above me: one reloading a crossbow, and three more taking aim. I jumped out of the way of the second bolt, but the third took me in the flank as I was knocking an arrow. I shot the fourth marksman in the shoulder before he could fire, and turned to flee.
At that moment, something very weird happened. I felt as if a rope was tied around something deep inside me, and was lifting me up. At the same time the world appeared to spin, and I could make out shocked expressions on the humans' faces, even though I had been facing away from them a moment before. Then everything went black.
When I awoke, I was lying on my side in a field. I could see several of what appeared to be wattle-and-daub dwellings similar to the ones in my village, although they seemed strangely far away. "Ah, it's awake," said someone behind me. Their voice was raspy, and somehow small. "Welcome to Anima. Please don't take this the wrong way, but there are several crossbows pointed at you right now. We'd rather you didn't make any sudden movements."
Sunday, August 21, 2011
The Story So Far
Ogres! [thump] Why ogres? What am I even [whack] doing here?
There's one thing I do know for sure- it's been an odd couple of weeks. Ever since the Eldars sent that colt Brynzen to bring me home early from a hunt*, things have gone from strange to stranger. When Brynzen and I arrived in the village center, Eldar Dendryx and my sire were waiting. I barely had time to start the deer curing while they convened the rest of the village council.
When I entered the longhall, the air inside was already close with ceremonial incense and the smell of a dozen elderly centaurs. It seemed that every face held a troubled expression, although there was something almost smug in the eyes of Eldar Daxxon**.
My sire was the first to greet me: "Welcome Rabadon. We hated to recall you from hunting, but our business here today is of crucial importance and time runs short. As you know, we keep a weather eye out for omens from holy Skerrit. These past few days, such messages have been many and impossible to misinterpret: the humans are coming back. We must be prepared, lest they wipe every centaur from the face of the plains, or send us to work in their helltowns of metal and stone."
"I don't know about omens, but I'll take your word for it. Is there something specific you'd like me to do? Surely you aren't going to call each of the braves here one at a time to tell us to get ready for a fight."
It was the wily Xarro (decades my senior, but still the youngest member of the Eldar council) who answered. "Of course not. We know the braves are ready to ride out at a moment's notice. No, we have other plans for you. You are to go out into the world to search for allies. You may go whichever way seems most promising to you, but we suggest you begin your search in the Ignes Montes. The fortress Macerium has repelled several human invasions throughout the years. Find out all you can about these invasions, and if possible bring back any who would be willing to help us. I'm afraid that while a force of braves can route an army thrice its size on an open field, they would find the humans' nefarious machines difficult to deal with. A few Macerian engineers may well turn the tide of battle in our favor, though."
"I understand, Xarro. I'll leave right away. Is there anything else the council would ask of me?"
"Wherever you go, be on the lookout for any sign of the Wizened Eldars. We do not know why they left, but legend has it that they will return in the centaurs' hour of greatest need. I fear that hour may be upon us soon."
"Very well. I will take my leave of you, Eldars. So long Father."
I left within the hour. I made good time over the following ten days, although my pace slowed somewhat upon reaching the desert of Salaam. I'll spare you the details; suffice it to say that on several occasions I was forced to display great ingenuity in finding water and shelter. My plan was to stop in Fort Kilika to resupply and see about making common cause with the resistance forces there. Unfortunately, what happened next was a little different.
* The return trip took two days, during which time I managed to bring down a deer with my bow, but that hardly counts as a successful ranging.
** Daxxon teaches all the young in our village about the gods and the history of the Rift, as well as how to read and write the Glyphs used by all the Wovokan tribes. I've always suspected that he didn't like me, as my ineptitude in class was a constant source of frustration for the both of us.
There's one thing I do know for sure- it's been an odd couple of weeks. Ever since the Eldars sent that colt Brynzen to bring me home early from a hunt*, things have gone from strange to stranger. When Brynzen and I arrived in the village center, Eldar Dendryx and my sire were waiting. I barely had time to start the deer curing while they convened the rest of the village council.
When I entered the longhall, the air inside was already close with ceremonial incense and the smell of a dozen elderly centaurs. It seemed that every face held a troubled expression, although there was something almost smug in the eyes of Eldar Daxxon**.
My sire was the first to greet me: "Welcome Rabadon. We hated to recall you from hunting, but our business here today is of crucial importance and time runs short. As you know, we keep a weather eye out for omens from holy Skerrit. These past few days, such messages have been many and impossible to misinterpret: the humans are coming back. We must be prepared, lest they wipe every centaur from the face of the plains, or send us to work in their helltowns of metal and stone."
"I don't know about omens, but I'll take your word for it. Is there something specific you'd like me to do? Surely you aren't going to call each of the braves here one at a time to tell us to get ready for a fight."
It was the wily Xarro (decades my senior, but still the youngest member of the Eldar council) who answered. "Of course not. We know the braves are ready to ride out at a moment's notice. No, we have other plans for you. You are to go out into the world to search for allies. You may go whichever way seems most promising to you, but we suggest you begin your search in the Ignes Montes. The fortress Macerium has repelled several human invasions throughout the years. Find out all you can about these invasions, and if possible bring back any who would be willing to help us. I'm afraid that while a force of braves can route an army thrice its size on an open field, they would find the humans' nefarious machines difficult to deal with. A few Macerian engineers may well turn the tide of battle in our favor, though."
"I understand, Xarro. I'll leave right away. Is there anything else the council would ask of me?"
"Wherever you go, be on the lookout for any sign of the Wizened Eldars. We do not know why they left, but legend has it that they will return in the centaurs' hour of greatest need. I fear that hour may be upon us soon."
"Very well. I will take my leave of you, Eldars. So long Father."
I left within the hour. I made good time over the following ten days, although my pace slowed somewhat upon reaching the desert of Salaam. I'll spare you the details; suffice it to say that on several occasions I was forced to display great ingenuity in finding water and shelter. My plan was to stop in Fort Kilika to resupply and see about making common cause with the resistance forces there. Unfortunately, what happened next was a little different.
* The return trip took two days, during which time I managed to bring down a deer with my bow, but that hardly counts as a successful ranging.
** Daxxon teaches all the young in our village about the gods and the history of the Rift, as well as how to read and write the Glyphs used by all the Wovokan tribes. I've always suspected that he didn't like me, as my ineptitude in class was a constant source of frustration for the both of us.
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