Open [Seasonal Event] A Pair of Gilded Antlers

[Merevaika]

19th Summer 515


She had only gone out for a ride. That was what she told herself. She had gone out for a little ride with Eryunt, that was all. No, definitely no hunting ever planned. Merevaika repeated that to herself, trying to counter the emotions inside her, trying to dampen the feelings of hurt and anger. It didn't help a lot. Merevaika still felt bad.

She had been so close, ever so close to getting that rabbit. If it had only been a fraction to the left, if only that wildcat hadn't been there to scare it away and to shock her. Perhaps if events had played put differently, she would have been in a different position. But it was pointless to say "if" for it hadn't been like that and she had been left with the short straw. Destined to return back alone and without a kill, she did so slowly, trying to enjoy the peace and tranquillity and forget about all her missed shots.

Eryunt swayed along, snorting softly as they walked side by side. Merevaoka no longer felt the need to ride him, preferring to walk at her own, slow pace. Somewhere were a cluster of birds, filling the air with a soft song, and crickets joined the melody, chirping in time with the tweeting. The  bushes and trees around the Kabrin road provided a soft shade, one which Merevaika enjoyed, and the walk would have been pleasant, if not for the feeling inside her.

Then she stopped. Something felt wrong. It was if the air had changed, no longer fresh and cool in the shade of the trees, but more strange and unsettling. However, it wasn't exactly negative either, just different. Merevaika couldn't think of a word for it. Alien, unnatural?  To her, none held the right connotations. Perhaps there was a word to describe the strange feeling that had come across her, but none of the ones she came up with were as neutral as the sensation was.

Behind her, Eryunt's posture seemed to change, perhaps feeling what she was. He started to walk forward after a few more moments, as if the seconds of stillness hadn't even happened. Merevaika started to doubt herself, blaming strange feelings on the feeling she had had when they had reached the stop. It was her imagination breaking free, her mind demanding that she stop with the moping. Yet as they turned a curve, nearing Riverfall, Merevaika realised that there was something strange about the place. More specifically, on the ground. She inhaled quickly. Perhaps she wouldn't be returning back empty handed after all.

Outside the gates of Riverfall, right in the middle of the dusty road, were a large pair of antlers. They were magnificent, stretching wide and complex. Even the antlers just as they were would have been something expensive and precious, having once belonged to what must have been a creature just as noble. But there was more to it. They were golden, shining in the sun like coins did, the metal smooth and flawless. Merevaika almost felt guilty looking at them, feeling undeserving. They were too perfect, the craftsmanship simply amazing. After all, making a pair of golden antlers like these must have taken pure skill and days of effort. Not to mention the price.

Somehow, the thought of how and why the antlers were there slipped out of her mind. After all, it wasn't everyday that she saw something of their worth, just lying on the street waiting to be taken. But that thought was banished by the thought of what she could do with the money from it, from the riches she could gain from it. Perhaps it was a gift from the gods, perhaps it was just fate, but it was wonderful, whatever it was.

Merevaika hurried over, bending over to fetch it. As her hand touched the precious metal, an odd feeling blurred over her, stretching from where her hand had touched the antlers across her body. I am Alcor. She dropped them suddenly, landing with a soft clunk. Images, feelings, memories rushed through her, all someone else's.

Merevaika took a deep breath, the knowledge overwhelming her. It didn't feel right, as if she was living two lives, not one. The memories overwhelmed her, the three words from before echoing around her und surging through her body. He was Alcor, and he was Alvina. The son of Caiyha. Merevaika fought back the other memories, wanting a few moments of thought. Her own thoughts. Perhaps after those few moments it would all be clear, and she would be able to deal with the son of Caiyha's life.
She would be able to hold the antlers, and experience his memories.

Until then, she would resist the urge to remember someone else's life. And the strange perplexing urge to wear those antlers as if they were her own.

oocIf you wish to touch the antlers, or just want more info, just PM me. But, just like Goss did, if you PM you have signed yourself up to reply!

[Achenar]

oocSorry about the boring first part, thought I'd get that meager point in!

Maddoch inhaled, his hands resting on the edge of his knees where he sat cross-legged on his bed, palms up. Meditation was not a habit he was routine with, but Helena had been thorough in her teachings. What she taught him back then was still circulating his mind, as he sought not only protection, but power. Meditation was a key component to steady his mind and his body’s energies. Feel the djed.

He exhaled, the air deflating his chest as he slowly willed his djed to his arm, detaching his limb at the core points, until he could feel the astral energy like a still breeze. He opened his gaze slowly, stretching his astral arm toward the cup on the side table, seeking to wrap incorporeal fingers around it with as much precision as he could manage. What felt like a limb too far stretched trembled slightly as he lifted it, lowering and lifting the cup in increments, moving it around him in a circular motion. A dull aching throb was building in his arm from the exertion. He was by no means skilled, and the effort made his astral limb shake, but the pain was like a subtle whisper in the back of his mind. Go on. His arm twitched, and the cup dropped with a clatter on the floor.

Maddoch sighed, refraining from moving where he was until he fed his incorporeal arm back into his flesh, reattaching the severs he’d made. And yet still, his arm tingled from the pin pricks. This room lacked the atmosphere for proper meditation. He needed air. He needed the sky. The ethaefal reached for his boots to tug them on and adjusted his belt. The park lacked the privacy needed to deal in matters of the arcane. Eyes would be watching. Eyes he didn’t need to be watching. Perhaps the outskirts would be more ideal with its fringe of trees.

He stepped out onto the road, making a mental note to get supplies as he passed by the Gilia Medical Facility toward the city gates. But something felt… different as he neared the road. There was an electricity in the air, he could practically taste on his tongue. Maddoch’s brows furrowed as his gaze lingered ahead of him, where a woman and her steed paused. He blinked, and sauntered closer, noting the look on her face and the thud of the antlers as she abruptly released it.

“Is there a problem?” Maddoch asked her. He found himself eyeing the antlers on the ground. The closer he’d gotten, the far more intriguing they’d become. Golden, he mused. His eyes flickered, catching the way the light mirrored off them with a dazzling glow.

Touch it.

Maddoch blinked, having realized he’d spent nearly a chime staring at the thing on the ground. He shook his head. Strange.. unnerving. The ethaefal’s fingers twitched. “Is this yours?” He clarified, as he bent to pick up the antlers. The second his hand pressed around the object he felt cascade of visions, memories, tastes and smells whirl in front of him, like a moving picture. A voice in his mind, like a distorted elegy seeped into his head, a cacophony of sounds and sights and experiences.

Maddoch jerked his hand back, standing up abruptly. The echo of a whisper lingered on his tongue. Alcor.

“Sorcery… this has to be sorcery,” His voice shook as much as the hand that held it. Touch it.

y

[Merevaika]

She was still in shock when an man arrived, first almost unaware of the antlers, then captivated by them. His eyes slowly flickered back and forth, each time lingering a little longer, until she knew that they called him as they had done to her. "Is this yours?" he asked, moving to pick it.

When he touched them, the same thing that had happened to her must have happened to him. He jerked back, hand trembling, body trembling. Merevaika still couldn't speak. "Sorcery... this has to be sorcery." She couldn't reply. She had to fight the feeling, the calling. The drykas gripped her horse's mane tightly, fighting it.

"Gods" she managed to utter out in reply, her voice surprisingly strong and confident compared to her week and feeble state. Her hand slowly loosened its grip, Eryunt stepping back slowly. It felt like falling, falling into another world. But the man was still there, and the road. And the antlers.

Merevaika felt herself slowly make her way towards the antlers. It didn't feel safe, messing with the children of gods, but it felt right. The antlers grew, golden, shimmering, beckoning. Her hand touched with precise motion, taking them firmly and exactly, as she picked them up with a purpose.

This time, she didn't fight the memories.

Images flashed before her eyes, images of the Sea of Grass, of great plains of nothing, free from the scars of humankind. Time flew, the seasons passed, life began to form. Rabbits, birds, elk. Creatures began to approach, hesitant then lovingly, seeking friendship with Alcor.

Then a young elk, who was larger than the rest, with antlers that shone with hints of gold, strong but peaceful. Merevaika knew that this was Alcor's one and only son, prized and protected.

Seasons of memories passed like this, which flooded into years. Then came a scene that was prominent, and the memories slowed.

Shouts and horns, dogs barking and horse hooves. It was dark, but the air was filled with fire and smoke, the stench if humans reaching the herd of elk. Alcor was hiding, watching from overgrown grass somehow unnoiticed. Watching how they came after his son, with their spears and bows and dogs, and the startled cry of the fallen elk. Pain, anger and sorrow filled her, overpowering her own emotions.

After that was a period of stillness, everything dull and blank. Then came another night of death and terror. This time, it was caused by Alcor.

The images were unclear and fuzzy, but the destruction was evident. All Merevaika could see were antlers, great and golden, swiping at people young and old. They were dead. Everyone. Everyone who had killed his son, everyone who had been with them.

But one boy Alcor had missed. Years later, the son of Caiyha had forgiven those who had wronged him, but thought there was no one to offer him his forgiveness. When the boy came, fully grown into a strong young man, Alcor didn't recognise him, but Merevaika felt a thought that Alcor had had when looking back perhaps. Alcor lowered his head, this time with respect, but the boy had seen him like that before, seen him killing like that. Despite having come to forgive, the boy felt threatened and, fearing for his own life, ended Alcor's with a single swing of a sword.

The memories stopped.

Suddenly Merevaika felt relieved, but one last thing was bugging her. Taking the antlers carefully, she placed them on her head. Once again her world changed.

To Maddoch, to her Strider, and to any other onlookers, the transformation would have been instantaneous, one second a young woman, the other a female elk, but to Merevaika, it was slow, the antlers melting into her and her limbs slowly elongating and changing, growing fur and hooves.

She cried out, confused by the sound she had made. She turned around, confused by her new height, weight, body. She had to make her way back. She needed to be human again.

She turned to the man, lookingly pleadingly at him. Perhaps he could help.

[Achenar]

The ethaefal’s eyes flickered from the antlers to the woman at her exclamation. Clearly, the antlers weren’t hers but the way she stared at that was like an infatuation, one that Maddoch wouldn’t have denied he’d felt as well. This wasn’t sorcery. This had to be the work of gods.

He noted her slow approach toward the otherworldly object, and he extended a hand as if looking to stop her, but he didn’t take a step. “Hey—wait a second,” he hissed, but it was a second too late, as the girl seemed lost to a dream. Maddoch watched her, and the way she reacted to whatever it was that she was seeing. Memories. Voices. Alcor.

Alcor.

Maddoch tossed the name around in his head, as the remnants echoed. But though he’d been alarmed by the sensory overload and shocked by the visions held in the antlers, he didn’t reach to pry the drykas woman from them. Instead he was transfixed, watching with slowly widening eyes as she lifted the pair of antlers to her head and subsequently donned them. The change was instantaneous, and instead of a woman, he was now staring at… an elk.

“What the petch is going on?” He yelled, stumbling back in alarm.

The girl-turned-elk had promptly turned her head toward him, giving him a look that Maddoch could only guess was regret. This was beyond his control, beyond his knowledge, and the ethaefal petching hated that. But a whisper whirled around in his thoughts; a nudge that forced his gaze toward the trees that dotted the sides of the dusty old road. “Come,” he told the elk, gesturing to her. She didn’t know what would happen to the strider, but he couldn’t steady his thoughts enough to consider his options. “Come.”

It felt like something else controlling his legs, but it was he, both aware and not, who moved beneath the shade of the trees. He didn’t glance back to see if she was following. He moved with a haste he didn’t know he had, and when he paused, he was standing before a large tree… with a worn chestnut door embedded in its mossy bark. Old engravings were etched into its surface, and flowers bloomed slowly from its base. A door? Was this what he’d been looking for?

He glanced back at the elk. “Shall we go in?” He tossed her a smirk, despite the possibility she couldn’t understand him, let alone speak. The ethaefal turned back toward the door, and reached for the knob, sliding it with a creak, inwards.


oocThought you could set up what's in the door if you'd like!

y

[Merevaika]

The Ethaefal jumped back in shock, the same reaction she would have had if she hadn't turned into a... Merevaika realised that she had no idea what she was now. It felt weird, a foreign body, one with four legs and fur and hooves, but that wasn't enough to distinguish what body she was in. She cried out again in distress, a high pitched squeal that seemed to fill the trees around her. A sudden flap of birds erupted from a nearby tree, the noise unnerving to them. She instantly recognised the noise, the events of a failed hunt coming back to her. She was elk.

The thing was, she hadn't just taken the creature's form. Despite not even having tried to say anything, she understood the cry, not in words like she would have with Pavi or Common, but in feelings and emotions and pure understanding. The cry was undertoned with "help me", something she could just feel.

The man began to speak, these words unknown to her, however familiar they sounded. They should have made sense, but they didn't. However, other things did. He started gesturing, motions that would have been meaningless to an ordinary elk, but not to Merevaika, who retained her human thoughts. The man began to walk away, gesturing. It was obvious what he was trying to say.

Merevaika stepped forward, still in shock at how this new body walked. As she traveled through the trees, following the man who seemed to know where he was going, she became used to it, each step more familiar until eventually she felt like the body had always been hers.

Thoughts started to race through her mind as she considered exactly what was happening. The transformation had been shocking, but that feeling had faded away as quickly as it came. But here she was, a human turned elk, following a stranger into a forest that she didn't know too well. She had know idea why she was like that, if she would ever turn back and where she was going.

Merevaika became more hesitant in following him, starting to watch his every move; how he walked, how he didn't look back at her, how his pace never slowed. Until finally he stopped, and Merevaika, at first, didn't realise the reason. That was until she saw the door, carved into a tree, flowers at the base and mossy bark around. It seemed surreal until the man opened the door. Then it just seemed crazy.

Despite that, she couldn't help wondering what was in the shadows, through the door in the tree. She stepped forward slowly, glancing at her companion who smirked strangely, the line of a mouth forming strange shapes. Or perhaps that was just to an elk. Merevaika turned her gaze back to the door, and stepped through.

Instantly the scenery changed into a large plain, endless rolling hills covered in a tall grass. The Sea of Grass? Perhaps, but not the one she knew of. Behind her, where she had just stepped through, was a shimmering outline of the other world, which appeared fragile and as if it would disappear any moment. Looking around again, she made out a figure, a shape amongst the grass. She instantly recognised him as Alcor's son. So had she entered the Alvina's memory?

The smell of smoke came to her noise as a familiar scent, and a soft noise could be heard coming closer. The memory of this event came back to her: this was the young elk's death. Merevaika remembered feeling the pain and sorrow Alcor had, remembered how horrifying he had found the events. She would have to stop it from happening. She just needed to. And perhaps the man, if he came through the door, could help.

[Achenar]

Something in him hadn’t expected the elk to just walk through the door. He didn’t know if this was really the girl he’d briefly spoken to, or if it was some sort of magic that had replaced the girl with an elk. Or perhaps, it was all a fantastical illusion and he’d wake up in a room with a hand full of mushrooms. These past few weeks had been a trip reminiscent of a drug induced stupor, but he was not questioning the door and its contents, as he stared into it from the other side.

There was an urge in his gut and a feeling in the air like a crackle of electricity. He couldn’t shake that feeling that he needed to help. But who he was supposed to aid was lost on him until he finally stepped through the door. His boot crunched down on tall stalks of grass, and Maddoch glanced up to see the plains stretch out ahead of him. He noticed tendrils of smoke drifting in the open air, and the sound of voices; of men, and animal. His eyes followed the elk’s gaze, and noted the creature in the tall grass that seemed, so oddly familiar. With brows furrowed, the hallowed whispers surged in his mind like a tidal wave; visions of the gilded elk and his prodigal son. Was this him? Was this what those antlers were trying to say?

“We… have to save him,” Maddoch murmured, as his fingers clenched into a fist. Never had he felt such selflessness in him. But some core part of his mind, body and heart screamed for him to take action.

He didn’t wait to hear a response from the elk, he doubted he would get one. The ethaefal instead broke out into a run, unsheathing his tamo daggers from his belt. For once, he was grateful to himself for purchasing such a thing, but he was decidedly unsure about his utter lack of skill in the weapon. But he would try. He would try as hard as he petching well had to.

“HEY!” He shouted toward the men who stalked the divine beast. But though he was close enough for the wind to carry his voice, the men had not bothered to so much as glance toward his direction. Maddoch waved his arms. “Get the petch AWAY from him!” He roared, crashing through the grass until he was several paces away from one of them. He might well have been invisible for all the attention it got him. And the thought made him pause. As the men continued their slow stalk toward the regal creature, the ethaefal lifted a hand over one of their faces. There was no reaction.

Maddoch bared his teeth, and slammed a fist into the dark haired man’s jaw, having expected it would only have been a spectre, but instead, he connected with flesh and bone, and the man turned his face toward him like a marionette.

“Oh. Petch.”

y

[Merevaika]

The man followed, before starting to run at the hunters, sharp daggers in his hand. Merevaika ignored him, turning to where Alcor's son stood, seemingly petrified. She could smell it on him. Merevaika gave out a high pitched squeal, like the ome before, this time connoting "Danger, run!". The male elk stared blankly at her, not replying. Could he not understand? Was her elk not good enough?

To demonstrate her point, she directed herself at the humans, taking it in. There were many, too many count, or at least too many for an elk to count. There were dogs too, following the men. Some rode on horse back; they had started to circle round the elk, closing off escape routes. They would have to fight their way out. Merevaika passed this on to the other elk: "Fight."

Alcor's son ignored her once more, putting his head down to tear up some grass. Then, after what seemed like forever waiting for him to chew it, he replied gently. "Who are you? he asked, paying no attention to the smells coming up to them. He continued to eat.

"Can you not smell that? The stench of the humans?" she asked, looking more frantically at the incoming hunters. Alcor's son looked up to her with a rather lost expression.

"Is there any use?"

Merevaika turned away from him, realising that he would not fight unless he thought he would certainly win. Or perhaps he would never fight. Whatever happened, she would defend him, as would the man who had followed her through the door. Merevaika let her sense of smell guide her, pinpointing the nearest danger. It was a young man, with a dog that snarled and growled, with big sharp teeth. They had come a little too close for comfort. Merevaika charged, ground thundering under her hooves. She smashed into the man, feeling his spear slip across her side, stinging a little, before snapping in two. The man flew back, groaning, and didn't rise again. Seeing his master fall, the dog started to growl louder, snapping at her feet. She kicked out at it, hitting it in the back. The dog started to retreat, wimpering.

Another smell and sound pricked up, and she turned, spotting an archer readying his bow. It was aimed straight at the other elk. Merevaika ran again, this time towards Alcor's son, screaming at him to move. Perhaps she would get him out of the way of the shot. He didn't follow her order. Merevaika looked at him to the archer, to the arrow flying between them, and smashed in front of him, blocking the arrow.

It hit her in the leg, painful, but not fatal. It was all Alcor's son needed to encourage him to fight back. The great elk started to thunder towards hunters, antlers at the ready. Merevaika joined him, limping where the arrow had hit her. It didn't stop her. She swung her head round, knocking hunters over, until she felt another arrow shot land near the first. Her leg buckled under her weight, and she struggled to stand. It would be fine, she told herself, and the female elk rose once more, fighting the pain.

[Euchse]

Euchse hadn't slept well that night, and believed to to be from her lack of meals that day. She was now in her crane form, wading quietly amongst the waters that pooled under Riverfall's mighty fountain. What a beautiful waterfall surrounded this place, shielding and protecting it. What a sight to witness!
As she waded, she spotted a still fish, almost asking to be caught. She used her form to an advantage, making as little noise as possible. Once she was close enough, her head instinctually dove under the water, swooping up the salmon and flinging it into the air. If she wasn't making a ruckus before, she definitely was now. Her long talons scampered about as she incessantly flapped her large wings. She caught it! She caught it by the beak!

When she returned to her human form, she put her clothes back on and began to gut the fish. Luckily, she had caught a fish that could be eaten raw, but she had no knowledge of this. Her need of food only made her slice the fish quicker. She was careful to remove any bones she saw before diving in for a bite. Oh, what a sensational satisfaction! She reveled in the savory saltiness of the fish.
As she munched on her food, she saw a man leave his house and walk down the street. She had never seen this man before, and was curious as to where he was off to. She quietly shouldered her remaining things, slipping after him. She held onto the fish by her mouth, using her arms to manage a stealthy saunter. She hid behind any corner she could find, playing safe did he chance a backward glance. But none on his end were attempted, and she continued her careful prowl.

No later than did man freeze in shock than she felt an odd draw of power. Something called out to her, and maybe the tall man before her. She didn't dare go near it, however. She knew nothing of Djed, and therefore believed it heresy. But as the drawing power intensified, three words stuck in her mind:

I... Am... Alchor...

She froze! Was that the man before her, speaking to her? Did he know of her snooping, and call her out for it? She hoped not, she meant nothing by it! Then almost as if it drew her out of hiding, she saw the woman and her horse. She also glanced to the antler of which the woman held. What a lustrous reflection! Euchse had this odd feeling to walk up to it, and she likewise held out her hand. She would've caught the man's attention, hadn't the woman placed the horns to her head and instantly transform. From human to elk, it was moments apart.
She gasped at the realization, and fell backwards onto the ground. She covered her mouth with both hands before a yelp was sounded. What was that hideous thing? She had never witnessed such a creature before. However, after a pause, she sat up, watching the new animal curiously. It wasn't as ugly as she anticipated, it was just larger, and bulky looking.

Her trance was interrupted by the deep, melodious tone of the other man's voice. "Come," he beckoned. As Euchse watched him walk a ways away, she saw the elk follow him. Did she trust him? Euchse knew she would've run away. Maybe they knew something she didn't. She stood back up again, following after them again.
They came to a tree, and the tree held a door. What an odd thing, to witness a door presiding within its material source. They opened it, walked through, and seemed to disappear. Euchse followed quickly, wishing to join whatever they so encountered on the other side.

Once she opened the door, she stepped through, and felt as if she entered a portal to another world. It was beautiful, with a scenery she never saw before. Rolling plains, vibrant grass, what a sight! She looked ahead of the other two, and admired another creature that resembled the woman. It was tall, and stood firm. His horns glinted in the sun's light, and he held a simple majesty.
She was drawn to him, until the man she initially followed began to shout and scream! He drew his daggers, at the ready. The woman also joined him, attacking people that snuck up on the creature. Euchse suddenly felt a need to come to this animal's defense, as these other two did. She melded back into her crane form, swooping high and coming down low. She only knew enough to disarm, but not to injure.

She soared low to topple a man with a spear. She grabbed his small companion, dragging it along the ground till it loosed from her grip. It ran off, whimpering a different tongue. She turned her head to witness an arrow lodge into the transformed woman, and Euchse took action. Flying high, she dive bombed te archer, harassing him with her claws to scare him off. His companion, however, leaped at her, latching onto her leg.
Euchse squawked at the sinking of its teeth, attempting to shake it off. A bitten leg held a familiar feeling, but it slipped her mind. She flapped hard, finally snapping the clamp away from her. She had an injured leg, but she could still fight. She turned a wide angle before sweeping in again.

[Achenar]

Maddoch turned on his heel and managed to duck the man’s sluggish punch. These didn’t seem to be normal people, as far as he could tell. They were slow to respond and he was virtually invisible to them until he touched them. And what was worse, he couldn’t comprehend it. He’d witnessed a woman turn into an elk, experienced visions and gone through a door. If he wasn’t smoking something good by the time he awoke, he was going to be royally pissed.

An arrow flitted past his vision, and the svefra turned his head to follow it, and watched with a horrified look as the woman-turned-elk took the blow. “Hey, watch it,” He snapped at her, before a fist collided with his face, and he stumbled back on the grass. The dagger he had unsheathed fell from his hand some paces away. That is it.

As the man approached with a mechanically slow gait, the svefra squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated. He could feel the djed like the push and pull of the waves, and he guided it down to his elbow, pushing the astral body from its vessel like an oozing veneer. It took a concentration that made his brows furrow and his jaw tense, and when his astral limb was liberated, he stretched it towards the knife that had fallen some paces away. The knife, appearing like a levitating thing in the air, was slowly but sufficiently returned to the svefra’s hands, and he promptly kicked the shambling man’s leg to knock him to the ground.

Back on his feet, he gripped his tamo dagger in his physical hand, and watched the slow procession of men surrounding the antlered creature and the subsequent tremor that shook the ground as it charged. The elk behind him had sustained injuries, and Maddoch cursed under his breath. If that she-elk were to die, he’d likely be shot down by some curse. Something in his gut urged him onwards despite his woefully lack of knowledge in the matters of combat and conflict. But he had to try.

As Alcor’s son trampled the men with arrows, the svefra threw a clumsy punch into an archer’s head, sending him toppling. “Sorry,” he mouthed, jumping over his body towards his… companion.

The djed was surging through his astral limb, and he made a conscious effort to sew it back into his limp arm, seeping life back into his nerves and flesh. His arm tingled and felt momentarily sluggish, but it would suffice. He gripped the knife in his hand and watched the conflict below. “There aren’t many left,” he voiced absently, still unsure whether the elk woman would even understand. He moved toward a man brandishing a sword and attempted to flank him. But he was slow, and he felt the slice of the blade as it came down on his shoulder, leaving a deep gash. Maddoch stumbled back with a hiss and gripped the wound. He would have to go again. And again he lunged, using his entire body to slam into the man, sending both toppling, and with both hands on the knife, he drove the blade right into the man’s chest.

As he glanced up, he noted the flurry of feathers and the squawk of what appeared to be a bird. By way of its struggle, it seemed to be fighting the men just as he and the she-elk were. He couldn’t suspect as to why or how a crane would know to do such a thing, but he didn’t question it. Maddoch lurched back onto his feet and wiped the sweat from his face with an arm.

y

[Merevaika]

Everything seemed a blur. While Alcor's son stormed past them, knocking down hunters, Merevaika tried to find the man who had followed her, and discovered that he was making his way towards her. The pain in her leg had almost subdued, the inital shock over, and it no long hurt to stand on it, as long as she didn't put increased pressure on it.

The man made some sort of effort to communicate to her, but the words went past unclear. They were just sounds. Then, he turned to a swordsman, and a fight between the two started. Merevaika didn't stop to observe. Currently, her own life was more important. She turned to her own opponent, a spearman who was slowly and stealthily advancing on Alcor's son, unnoticed by the great beast who was busy with a spearman of his own. Merevaika would have to take care of this one herself.

Wishing she was human, and had real weapons, how inexperienced with she was, she debated what to do. She could charge him, but it left her vulnerable to attack. She had no antlers of her own, just the sheer mass and weight that she consisted of.

A blur of a beak and feathers distracted her, taking her mind off the goal in front and instead to a crane, who seemed to be helping with the fight as well, struggling with attacking. Merevaika watched, awestruck, by the courage of the bird, confused as to why it would join to help.

Her distraction didn't last long as she remembered the impending danger on herself and her companions. She gave out a startled cry to the other elk, noticing that the man she had hoped to halt had reached closer to his target than she could be happy with. Alcor's son warned, she started to run, no longer caring about her vulnerability. She came crashing down on him, mowing him to the floor with one movement. Merevaika felt a crack beneath her feet, a bone breaking. Looking back, she felt the threat had been nullified. The man lay on the floor, arm at a strange angle and spear uselessly thrown several metres away. He looked like he wasn't getting up.

There were only a few left, who looked uncertainly into the distance. Where they thinking of running? What then? What would Merevaika and her companions have to do? Would they return to Riverfall? Would she return to human? She only hoped so.

oocIf anyone wants to rp a bit more fighting, feel free. If not, we can continue with the main storyline