To Catch a Thief (Razkar)

by **Turrin** on January 26th, 2014, 7:41 pm

Yuk-yuk-yuk...yuk

Turrin stared in horror at the abominations dining on the flesh of one of Myri's children. The boy took a deep breath and stared at the teenager of reassurance everything was going to be alright. Turrin saw Razkar raise his bow and listened carefully to orders. The Twisted Vine boy placed a broad tip arrow on his bowstring and took aim at the back of one of the larger monsters. The myrian teenager was convinced they could take the four monsters. Running his finger along the black feather of the arrow, Turrin heard Razkar swear underbrush when he saw the another group of monsters emerge from the underbrush and wander into the camp. There had to be eight monsters now, and Turrin started to feel his heartbeat quick in excitement and sheer terror at the numbers. When one looked in their direction, Turrin ducked behind the tree and press his back to the smooth bark. Twisted Vine warriors were known for be calm, emotionless, and disciplined warriors, so he closed his eyes and started to envision a small flame. His father taught him to feed the flame with all his anxieties, fears, and desires to focus on the task at hand. In his mind, the flame started to grow as he threw his fear of dying into the fire and his childish desire of killing on the monsters by himself.

When he was finished clearing his mind, Turrin opened his eyes and said simply, “Razkar you need to stay focused and calm your mind. Your mother trained you well. Have confidence in her training, and you will live. Besides, you are a Child of Myri, so if you die, you will be reborn as a warrior of Myri in the next life.” Turrin was taught not to fear death because Dira and Myri had made a accord in the heavens. It was a matter of faith, and he wasn't going to stop believing his Goddess because he was afraid. Suddenly, the jungle came alive with the sound of barking from the same monsters that were feasting on the Myrian woman. Turrin couldn't tell the amount of different individual monsters, but it sound like their fang must stepped into a nest of these beast. The half-breed swore under his breath when he realized Cira set a trap for his father and Razkar's mother, and in their blind rage, they walked right into it. Turrin looked at the teenager and whispered with a smile, “We will head to the river and lead these eight away from the Fang. The War Mistress and Father can handle themselves, but we must survive to get to complete the mission ourselves. Lets take our shots, thin the herd, and run to the river. This is a fishing camp, so there must be canoes down by the river.”

As the war cries filled the jungle, Turrin was caught off guard when a tiger jumped from the trees and landed on of the monsters. The Myrian said a quick prayer to Caiyha ducked out from behind the tree and aimed at the largest of the abominations. Bending his knees slightly, Turrin pulled a arrow from his quiver and placed onto the bowstring. Holding the arrow in between his pointer and middle finger, Turrin lifted the short bow, so the metal tip lined up with the center of the back. Drawing back the bowstring to his cheek, Turrin readjusted his arrow alignment with the target as he held the bowstring to his cheek. Taking a deep breath, Turrin released the arrow on the exhale.

by **Razkar** on January 31st, 2014, 1:53 am

Razkar couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy to see a clawed black-and-orange monster spring from the foliage (probably because there wasn't one). The Earth Demons howled in one voice as they experienced the shared, shrieking death of the tiger's victim. Razkar's eyes widened as he saw jaws the size of his head crunch down on a cruel, aborted parody of a Myrian, crunching down harder until bone cracked and blood vessels burst in scarlet geysers-

-then Turrin let fly and he did the same, aiming at the middle of the same back, putting an arrow in it a split-tick after Turrin. From what his parents had told him of the Earth Demons, they didn't die easily. They had hearts and lungs and brains and all the usual places a mortal wound could strike... but their souls - if one could stomach such a word in the same sentence as those creatures - clung on with grim determination to dying flesh.

Better to make doubly certain.

The Earth Demon twitched and looked down in dumb shock as it saw the glistening arrowheads suddenly poking out of his chest. It tried to shout but only gurgled blood, rest of the pack now torn between the hulking monster devouring one and the unseen enemies hurling sharpened sticks into a second-

-third-

-as yet another Yukman screeched in pain, staggering back from an arrow in the belly.

"We're not running!" Razkar hissed, hands moving as fast as his lips as one jerked back for another arrow and the other quickly steadied on on his bow. "Between us and the tiger, we can destroy this clutch, clear the land for the War Party! Just... leave enough to keep the tiger busy-"

The Myrian felt a twinge of guilt at his merciless tone towards one of Caiyha's fiercest children, sharp and deep like a stiletto between his ribs... but he quickly suppressed it. He did not wish harm to the tiger: Myrians did not hunt and butcher for thrills, only necessity. But it was necessary that they clear this site of slaughter. Mere ticks before, he would have gone with Turrin's plan. Distract, draw away, drain the clearing and escape across the Kanduktu Basin.

But the situation changed. Now they had an unlikely and unwitting ally... which Razkar was determined to make good use of-

-and he started by planting his second arrow in the third Yukman. Now the clutch of surviving beasts was gearing towards vicious retaliation in that slow, fuddled but inexorable way they had. A pair flung themselves onto the thrashing tiger, uncaring of injury in their rage, while the other three stomped forward, including the gut-shot third one-

-who snapped the arrow in his chest and snarled around, eyes glaring, wide-

-seeing a glint between the leaves, Razkar's black eyes behind it.

Breath... exhale... wait for it... between the-

-beat of his heart-

-when his hands were still and the arrowhead stopped its quiver-

-and his fingers flicked from bent to straight, releasing the taut string and the arrow it held-

-the third Yukman wailed and fell back, shoulder pierced all the way through, but its two comrades shared the fleeting vision, mental memory all their daemonic kind possessed flashing the image of Razkar and his partner across all of them-

"YUKYUKYUKYUKYUK!"

They bellowed their savage war cry and loped forward, raising looted fishing knives and a crude club, mouths of jagged teeth exhaling mud and phlegm and blood all at once.

Razkar threw aside his bow and drew his weapons with a hiss of steel then one from his own snarling lips. Like a benediction or a curse, he whispered the words, hands heavy with gladius and ax.

"For Myri."

Then he charged them.

by **Turrin** on February 12th, 2014, 3:56 am

As the first arrow soared to it's target, Turrin reached back and took another arrow from his quiver. Placing the second arrow on the bowstring, Turrin saw his arrow sticking out of the back of his target. The heavy tip of the broad arrow pierced deep into the body of the creature.Turrin's eyes flickered to the tiger as it brought down it's mouth onto the neck of the first monster. The small spray of blood signaled to him that their “ally” already killed one of their enemies. He would have to show his gratitude for the nature goddess later. The Myrian could tell the abominations were confused because three of them started to head straight for the tiger, and the other three just stood in place looking around for Razkar and him. The Myrian teenager could feel his heart race with excitement as he heard Razkar letting go of his bowstring with loud twang. It was a his first surprised attack of Turrin's young life, and if he lived, he would tell his father and mother the story of his deed when he got home. Turrin turned his attention back to his first target and saw Razkar's arrow sticking out of the chest of the beast. The monster tried to call out to his or her brethren, but the blood muffled it's cries. The monster took a few steps, fell to one knee, and collapsed on the ground with blood oozing from it's mouth.

Knowing there was only two left, Turrin turned his attention to a new target. He lifted his short bow till the arrow lined up with the chest of closest monster to him. When Turrin could see the eyes of the monster, he pulled back the bowstring to his cheek and readjusted the arrow head, so it lined up with the middle of it's dirt encrusted chest. The teenager took a shallow breath and released the arrow on the exhale. The arrow soared straight towards the the center of it's chest, but at the last minute, the arrow veered to the right and hit the yukman in the shoulder. It would have been a decent shot if it hit the target that it intended to hit. When the yukman spotted the young hunter, it let out a guttural yuk-yuk-yuk and started to charge him. Turrin heard Razkar say loudly that they weren't retreating. With a smile on his face, the young male quickly reached back and grabbed another arrow from his quiver.

Placing the arrow on the bowstring, Turrin looked up and saw the abomination was closer than he anticipated. It surprised him for a moment, but he knew that he needed to keep his emotions in check.The half-breed had hunted with his father before in the jungle, so he knew that he had to lend a moving target or prey when he was hunting in the wilds. However, his father neglected the lesson on what to do if the target or prey was charging him. The teenager knew that he needed to speed up his attack. Turrin quickly lifted his short bow till the metal tip of the arrow lined up with the chest of the target. Pulling back the bowstring to his cheek, the half-breed took a shallow breath and released on the exhale. As the arrow soared towards the target, Turrin realized that he missed a step in the shooting process when the arrow soared over the head of the enemy. It was a terrible shot, and he knew if he didn't think fast it. He would be dead. Dropping his short bow on the ground, Turrin unsheathed his sword, ran out of his hiding, and charged the abomination. When he heard Razkar's battle cry, Turrin yelled at his enemy, “For the honor of Myri!”

by **Razkar** on February 17th, 2014, 10:07 pm

There was always a trade off that every fighter made. Few were unbeatable and none were immortal. They played to their strengths and sought to mask or shield their weaknesses... but there were always pros and cons.

Combat, Yurta had taught her son when he first held a blade, was about overwhelming your enemy with your advantages and nullifying his own; making your weaknesses irrelevant and making his insurmountable.

The Earth Demons were fast, vicious and they feared nothing. But they were unarmed and, tellingly, "young". Razkar knew that they weren't "birthed", as good, honest thinking ceatures were. Caiyha vomited them from her soil like food she couldn't digest. The older they got, the more dangerous they became, for the more they fought and destroyed and survived and mimicked. But these ones?

Barely out of the ground, and it shows.

One peeled off to lunge at Turrin, but the other threw itself at Razkar, long, filth claws grasping, tearing-

-nothing, for the male slid to his side and hacked sideways with his ax, burying it deep in the monster's side, grinding bone and malformed organs, black blood gushing from the wound-

But the creature was far from dead. It screeched and howled and aimed a swinging backhand at Razkar, male ducking just in time-

-but forced to let go of his ax as he went down and the creature turned-

"YUKYUKYUK-!"

Strong, clammy hands that seemed to be falling apart gripped his legs and the Demon he'd struck before with his arrow was at his feet, snarling upward, arrow broken off in its body and its pain drowned in free-running hatred.

"Get the petch off me!"

His gladius hammered to the side, thrusting straight into the Yukman's crumbling face, cutting off the screeching chant as steel chewed tongue and he kept pushing, pushing-

-and was kicked back as the ax-struck Yukman recovered, lashing out with a heavy foot and knocking him onto his back, impact stunning him.

Don't falter! Don't just lie there! Move! Never stop moving!

He blinked and shadows became shapes became the Yukman ripping the ax from its flesh, raising it high, stepping closer-

-to him-

-to his arm-

-and with a wild snarl Razkar swept his gladius low, slicing through the monster's right shin. It;s slavering victory became an apoplexy of agony, roaring and bellowing blood and dirt as it crashed down to the ground, ax tumbling, head bowed-

-Razkar rising as he fell, up on one knee, left arm looping around and up and down-

"BASTARD!"

-slicing the creature's head off like an executioner's victim on the block. Twin ropes of black streaming, stinking, into the fetid air. The lifeless trunk paused and spasmed for a brief, absurd moment, as it the tumbling head hadn't quit registered... and then it did.

The Shorn Skulls clansman snatched up his ax and turned to Turrin, but the male had his own nemesis well in hand. Panting, eyes wild and heart drumming through his eardrums, he stalked low to the river's edge, seeing...

Yes!

Four canoes... or the traces of four, anyway. He saw fresh prints in the mud, not yet filled with water or eroded away by the tide... leading to a space in the neat row of three canoes, where the fourth would have been. Razkar knew his people: eight in a fishing party, two to a canoe... and all of them likely dead now.

Hold your grief. Vengeance heartens the dead more, so gain it for them.

But he could see the fourth boat bobbing away, in the distance, moving gently over the placid Kandaktu, the pilot unseen but obvious, since... since...

Since... when?

His excitement froze like a tsunami hit by a glacier. He wanted to pursue, wanted to throw Turrin into one of those boats and go after their prey, but... then his eyes saw new prints. Further away from the row of canoes, and as he walked over to them... he saw they were coming from the lake, maybe ten feet from where the canoes were, heading... south?

Why would someone set the canoe out, but then come back to shore?

The answer slapped him around the face sure as his mother would have done.

Because they want you to follow the wrong trail.

++++++++++

"This... is not acceptable."

From his perch amid the canopy, the Spider glowered, unseen and unhappy. Cira's cunning little ruse wasn't working on these two bright sparks, by the look of it, and it was such an amusing trick. Have those apes tearing across the lake only to find a whole lot of nothing to track once they got there, wasting time enough for Cira to vanish utterly.

Well... time to correct that.

Spider didn't get to be as old as he was by not being... savvy, in certain affairs. He knew that sheer numbers, working in concert, would carry the day more than any individual hero or champion. But sometimes, now and again, the success or initiative of an endeavor hinged on one man... or maybe two.

And once they fell, the unimaginative or hidebound elements remaining would simply not be enough to achieve victory.

Such as it is with these two... budding warriors...

Spider smiled. It could have been worse, after all. Cira - poor, poor Cira - was a useful tool for the Captain, but ultimately expendable. That meant he was babysitting more than truly helping her. A dull, tedious duty... and now a splash of color had struck the pallet! Wonderful!

"Something to get my teeth into," he said, not at all metaphorically, revealing small, sharp teeth and red eyes that pulsed briefly with excitement, "Enjoy your tracking, boys... I'll be seeing you soon..."

by **Turrin** on March 4th, 2014, 2:59 am

“Yuk, yuk, yuk, yuk!”

As Turrin charged his opponent, everything around him seemed clearer as the sounds of the jungle faded away. Feeling his heart pound in his chest, Turrin could feel the thought of battle entice apart of him his Inarta side wouldn't understand. This abomination rushing him was going to die, and he was going to be the myrian to end it's pointless existence. When the two finally clashed, the yukman dirty claws swung at the head of the myrian teen. Knowing the talon sword was a deadly slashing weapon, he had his sword point to the side of his him during the charge. When Turrin was in striking distance of the monster, he ducked under the swinging arm, stepped to the side of the charging yukman, and swung across the middle of his leg. Feeling the sword bite deep into the leg, he pulled out the sword and turned around to face his opponent. The yukman stumbled forward, but he must not have did to much damage because it turned around and bellowed with both claws pointed at Turrin, “YUK!”

Turrin let out a guttural growl at the monster, and he quickly closed the distance between them, raised the talon sword above his shoulder and swung down and across the body of the monster. As the sword came down, the abomination jumped back out of the way of the sword and swung his claw across the shoulder of the myrian teen. Turrin feebly tried to block the monsters blow, but the claws of the beast slashed across the top of his left arm. Turrin cried out in pain and started to back away from his enemy. The yukman saw his advantage and charged like a tiger ready to maul it's prey. Turrin knew that he couldn't finesse his way out of the situation, so he got into a stance Cira taught him. Putting his right foot back, Turrin put his left foot forward, squared his hips to his enemy, raised his sword so the point of the blade was pointed at the chest of the beast. When the yukman was in the right distance to strike, Turrin put his left palm on the pommel of the sword and thrust the sword into the chest of the charging beast.

Turrin planted his feet as the charging beast momentum impaled the talon sword into his chest. The weight of the myrian teen wasn't enough to stop the beast, so he was tossed back on his butt. Seeing the sword embedded in the creatures chest, Turrin was amazed it was still standing from the gushing wound in his chest. It just refused to die! Feeling the warmth of blood trickling down his arm, he stood up and unhooked his throwing ax. The abomination was to busy trying to pull the sword from his chest, so Turrin ran up and swung the ax at the chest of the yukman. He missed horribly with his ax. As the yukman called out with his hideous laughter, the myrian thought it was mocking him. He was about to swing at it again with his throwing axe, but the yukman gurgled a last yuk and crumbled to the ground dead at his feet. Walking over to it, Turrin noticed that it wasn't a man, but a woman. He had no qualms about defeating woman in battle. Reaching down, he put a boot onto the chest of the beast and pulled the sword from it's chest. Turrin survey the battlefield, and he noticed Razkar was no where in sight. However, the large tiger already killed the other three and was dragging on of them into the underbrush to feed in peace. Picking up his short bow, he looked for the whereabouts of Razkar.

Feeling a sharp pain on his upper arm, Turrin looked around a found a pair of fresh tracks by the underbrush leading to the river. Cleaning his sword on one of the bodies of the yukman, he followed the river and found Razkar by the river edge examining the three canoes. Immediately, he wondered if Cira took one, and he started to smile as he made down the hill to rivers edge. Turrin looked at Razkar and asked, “Do you think she took one of the canoes?” The Twisted Vine regretted his question because he saw one of the canoe floating into the lake. He looked at Razkar knowing that he was a much better tracker decided to let Razkar tell him than pester him with questions. Looking at the bleeding claw wound on his arm, he asked looking at the bodies around the canoes, “Did those monsters kill the fisherman, or was it our prey?”

Turrin hasn't been around dead bodies enough to know the difference, but Razkar was older, so he must have more experience with them. Feeling the burning sensation grow on his arm, Turrin said looking off at the lake, “Sorry...I hope I am not a bother to you, Razkar. This is my first real mission out in the field, so I don't have much experience hunting criminals. It part of the reason that I ask too many questions and give vary little answers to a problem at hand.” Sheathing his talon sword, Turrin pressed his right hand tightly against his wound to try to stop the bleeding. Wondering how the Fang was fairing against the monsters, the half-breed started to look around the beach for any signs of Cira. Turrin looked to the other shoreline of the river and wondered if she got off on the other side.

by **Razkar** on March 17th, 2014, 2:22 am

Razkar turned to his new partner and was about to tell him his suspicions when something large and still angry growled from the undergrowth.

He froze in the spot by the lapping water, and remembered and essential truism of Falyndar.

Just because you forget about the tiger, doesn't mean it's forgotten about you.

Vast and powerful and yet moving with the lightness of a house cat, the proud, bloodied creature swaggered from cove and regarded the two interlopers with the same burning disdain as it had the filthy, rotten meat he'd just finished ripping apart. Teeth the size of Razkar's fingers were bared and he saw the beast crouch, ready to spring-

-just before an arrow thudded into it's side and it screamed loud enough to send the Shorn Skull staggering back into the water.

Another truism: never go anywhere alone.

The War Party had arrived, hurling spears and arrows and oaths ahead of it. The tiger was fierce, strong and enraged, but even it knew that against so many apes and their weird claws, it had no chance. Bounding away like its wounds were mere paint and make up on its fur, soon it vanished and Razkar resurfaced, sputtering and gasping, reaching out to grab-

-a hand-

-a cold hand-

-watery eyes squinting wider to see-

-dead eyes staring at him.

"Shyke!"

Yurta walked calmly to the water's edge where her son was splashing away from the corpse, floating over to him and in no hurry. The older warrior scowled as she saw marks of her clan on the female, but... no bite marks. No pieces missing, no signs of the devouring and rabid hatred that so drove the Earth Demons.

She stepped into the warm, teeming water, and turned the female over... revealing a deep, gaping opening in her throat.

"A blade with teeth," she said immediately, shaking her head and cradling the one in her lap, "No Earth Demon club or looted weapon. She was killed and dumped like chattel, probably when-"

"-the boat arrived."

She frowned, looked up and saw her son, pointing away, jerked her head around-

-just in time to see the canoe's outline vanish into the mist. Immediately she was a whirl of movement, cloak flapping as she turned to the two-dozen warriors awaiting her orders, snapping off orders.

"Ready the boats! We leave-"

"Mother, no!"

Every male in the group winced; every female glared. A male? A minor, at that, dared to order a female, and a War Mistress?! Yurta turned slowly to her son, face as warm and understanding as a crocodile's, and Razkar knew he had to make this good.

"I... I think it is a distraction, War Mistress."

"Distraction? How so?"

Razkar showed her the rapidly-eroding footprints in the sand, leading to the lines of canoes and then away. He explained his supposition and Yurta listened without pause... and comment.

The curse of leading, Razkar reminded himself as he saw his mother literally gambling with their clan's honor. Our prey can only have gone one way, and we only have time and numbers for one route. But which one, when both are equally convincing?

"Warem? Qurato?" Two females stood to attention at their War Mistress's curt words. "Take one canoe, get over to the other side as fast as you can and alert the Blockade. There will be a detachment on the pier for supplies and reinforcements. Tell them we have a traitor heading towards Zinrah, likely accompanied and assisted by a barbarian."

Razkar didn't bother trying to keep the shock off his face. She... She believed him! He barely even noticed the two clansmen get into the boat and begin rowing, sinewy muscles straining until they were gliding into the mist ahead of them. But Yurta was not through with him yet, stern eyes leveling his confidence to the ground.

"Two more we have lost to raise the alarm, boy. Our numbers dwindle, and we have you to see true battle. This could be their tactic, too. To whittle us down and then destroy the remains."

Ah. That he hadn't considered, but his lips still pursed and he gave a fatalistic shrug. "But this way you at least alert the Blockade and if I am wrong, the traitor will not just be able to walk through it so easily."

"She had gotten this far, boy," Yurta said with a trace of grudging respect for their quarry, "Slaughtered out kin, turned Earth Demons against us, tried to trick us... and I have yet to mention the barbarian helping her." She looked at him again. "We have yet to see the end of this hunt, and I believe she has more tricks to show us. But until we do... you still take the lead."

Doubts had been planted but the last words were enough to swell the young male's chest and straighten him up like a steel rod in his spine. She had listened. Not just his mother, but the War Mistress; he had seen their enemy's deception and derailed her plan.

Do not fail her now. Not this far.

"Yes, War Mistress!"

Then he bounded off after the trail of footsteps Cira had left; Goddess, he would trail a nest of Dhani with fire she had put in him! Soon he heard his partner catch up with him, both Myrians keeping low and their eyes doing the same, watching for marred dirt, broken twigs and disturbed leaves, scratches, anything that marked Cira's passage.

"Don't worry, male. This is my first, too." Razkar spoke without looking up, but he smiled wolfishly, showing that though he'd been occupied, he wasn't deaf. "All the more reason for us not to petch this up..."

++++++++++

"Time for you to earn your keep, my friends..."

The two big cats looked at Spider like he was a meal to be savored, but then again, cats looked at most things like that. Wide-eyed and focused or slant-eyed and bored, everything was either food or entertainment to a feline. The jaguars were no exception, until-

-they both leaped up on their back legs and there was a vicious, violent marring, as if a waterfall had fallen across each one and the details, shape, form were all just blurred guesswork-

-until a pair of silent, naked Kevics stood there instead. They looked human, to Spider's red eyes. Limbs and torso and hair like any other of Mizahar's most ancient inhabitants... until you got to the eyes.

They hadn't changed. They still looked out at the world with the warmth of a blizzard, ever-seeking something to relieve their boredom. They stretched and yawned filthy, muddy bodies, shaking themselves and all but washing their hands with their tongues.

"The trackers." He said simply from his perch in the treeline, grinning down like some monkey/arachnid nightmare. "They should be alone soon, following her trail. Kill them both."

Grins like flawless pearls, eyes brimming with delighted malice, his two underlings shifted back to their cat forms and loped into the foliage towards the convergence point. Spider giggled to himself and scuttled up the trees into the canopy, listening carefully, shadowing them high and unseen.

It had been a long time since he'd seen the brothers get their claws wet. He didn't want to miss it.

by **Traverse** on April 27th, 2014, 3:03 pm

Turrin

Experience

Diplomacy 1
Endurance 1
Hunting 1
Investigation 2
Land Navigation 1
Meditation 1
Observation 5
Rhetoric 3
Running 2
Shortbow 2
Socialization 5
Talon Sword 1
Tracking 3

Lores:

Reclaiming a Lost Clan Artifact
Cira of the Lost Grove: Half Dhani
Shorn Skulls: Make Cloaks from the Skin of Enemies
Yurta: Warmistress of the Shorn Skulls
Marak: Quite the Ladies Man
Lowax: Shorn Skulls Matriarch
Cira: From Friend to Prey
Acquaintence: Razkar of the Shorn Skulls

Additional Notes :

Flashback To Catch a Thief (Razkar)