Solo Survival on the Sea of Grass

Taren learning of the plains and of himself

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The Wilderness of Cyphrus is an endless sea of tall grass that rolls just like the oceans themselves. Geysers kiss the sky with their steamy breath, and mysterious craters create microworlds all their own. But above all danger lives here in the tall grass in the form of fierce wild creatures; elegant serpents that swim through the land like whales through the ocean and fierce packs of glassbeaks that hunt in packs which are only kept at bay by fires. Traverse it carefully, with a guide if possible, for those that venture alone endanger themselves in countless ways.

Survival on the Sea of Grass

Postby Taren Coballon on July 18th, 2018, 8:52 pm

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30th day of Summer, 518


Taren trotted slowly over the plains, he had exited Riverfall before dawn and started trekking onto the plains. When he came out the gates, the guards barely batted an eye and didn’t even bother to talk to him. This suits Taren just fine today as he was in a bad mood and wanted to be left alone by everyone so here he was. He had started running but that wore himself out way to quickly and despite how fit he was he did not have the endurance yet to run that long of distance. After a quick rest of walking, he tried to jog which did work but he still wasn’t able to maintain that for long periods so he walked a bit further and now was down to a slow trot and an occasional walk to catch his breath. This might be a pace he could maintain for a bell or two at a time. The plains kept slowly passing underneath him as he plodded along.

Taren wore his cotton clothes, although he had stripped off his shirt and put it into the backpack. Once the summer sun came up it became quiet warm on the plains especially as he ran.On his back was his pack with a few meager belongings he had, food for a couple of days, his shirt, and along with his longsword which he was rarely without while his lakan was strapped on his hip within easy grasp if he should need it. His filled his waterskin before leaving Riverfall and had tucked it into his pack, hoping to insulate it from the hot sun even a little. The grass rose and fell as he continued on, sometimes down around his knees and sometimes tickling the glistening blue skin of his sides. He was making his way to a small knoll he a had found some time ago and might make a nice campsite as it gave him some visibility and it wasn’t too far from the Bluevein.. He had came out here a couple of days ago and set his snare in the hopes of catching something.

Slowing down for another walk to catch his breath, Taren looks behind him and notices the trail he was leaving in the grass! A straight line from him for as far as the eye could see. How stupid could he be for leaving a trail that easy to follow. He immediately switched directions and started off at a slant from the direction he had been going. Although he doubted that it mattered he did want to make it a habit to be careful. Out here there was no help and many things could be out here to follow him or try to eat him. Carefulness is a necessity from now on. Breathing a little better again he picks back up his pace while the exercise, heat, and desire to put one foot in front of the other keeps all other thoughts out of his head but he also suspected he was getting close to his destination.

Soon the knoll came into sight and none too early for Taren. The run had been long and he was wearing down quickly now. Nearing it now he was no longer worried about being tracked, nor cared at this point so he made a straight line to the knoll. Once there, he drops his pack and takes a long draught on his water skin before he stretches out on the ground in the grass. Although far from comfortable the grass did offer minimal cover from the sun which was a welcome relief. After a bell, maybe two, Taren felt slightly refreshed and sat up to take in his surroundings. Having to stand to get any view, he notices a warm breeze flowing over him, nothing large but enough to feel. On the breeze was the scent of wildflowers, he would have to investigate that later and he could hear very faintly in the distance the sounds of the Bluevein River. The Bluevein was key to this location with the ready supply of water as needed, far enough from Riverfall for quiet, yet hopefully close enough to keep some of the more dangerous predators at bay.
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Survival on the Sea of Grass

Postby Taren Coballon on July 20th, 2018, 8:57 pm

Taren stretches out as he stands up, knowing he doesn’t want his muscles to tighten up after the exercision. Looking around there is nothing in sight except the gentle rolling of the ground covered by grass and it is gently swaying in the slight breeze. Off in the distance he can see a yellow wild flower growing in a small cluster and that must be the soft scent he smells on the air. Nothing else was visible to him, although he still could easily see where he had ran up but some of the less damaged grass was already starting to stand back upright. Grabbing his pack, he sits down and pulls out a bit of the food he had brought to have a quick meal. Although he brought food, he hoped to find more while here or he will definitely not be full any of the time. “Brilliant spot you picked out here!” , he mutters to himself “Can we go home yet?”.

With the sun beating down on him, and the afternoon sun still coming he knows he should make some kind of shelter if he can but he doesn’t have a tent yet. He gets up and walks around the knoll scanning the ground and area for anything he can use. Do does find a few large rocks, slightly larger than his closed fists. He grabs them and tosses them on top of the hill in case he finds a use for them later. However that is all he finds really except grass everywhere. Standing on the hill he surveys it to best place his camp, with the north side having the most sun that would be a real bad idea, east side might be good due to it being opposite of the afternoon sun, however Taren decided the south side would be best if he could find or make some shelter. Dropping onto his hands and knees he quickly starts tearing the grass off near the ground and piling it up next to his pack and continues until a large area around the pack is cut down and he has a large pile of grass in the middle. Grabbing a little more than half the grass, he spreads it out over the area to let it start drying in the afternoon sun. The smaller portion he piles on the edge of camp in one large pile.

After baking in the sun and the work, he drains the last of his water skin and decides to take a trip to the river to refill the skin. Grabbing his skin, he starts to walk toward the river. “No ale, no barmaids, no food! What are we doing out here you cerulest!” he mutters to himself but keeps on walking toward the river with a weary stride. As he nears the river he becomes more cautious, the river being one of the main sources of water in the area tends to draw both predators and prey to it and he had no intentions of being the latter. Regardless he saw nothing of any threats on the way to the river. Once there he filled the water skin from away from shore and from the faster moving water to make sure it was clean, he also made sure to drink his fill of it in the moment at least. The water was cool and refreshing, and right in front of him the water hole looked deep enough for a swim. With the dirt and grass on him from working, he pulled off his pants to find that in several places they were cut ,likely from some of the grass as he ran out here as the pants had small gashes in them too. He also had several cuts on his hands as well but none of them looked bad so he jumped in the water to cool and clean off while scaring off a school or two of fish. After rinsing the dirt out of his pants he throws them over his shoulder to dry and starts walking upstream trying to find tracks of anything that might be in the area.

Taren tries to stay alert as he watches for tracks, but finds very little of any tracks except possible very small game. A glint of bone catches his eye from just inside the line of grass. As Taren investigates he finds a skull, probably a human sized person or a small akalak and it has a hole in the side of it as well. The hole is likely what killed the person or so he figures. “Skull with a hole, we’ll name him Skholl!” he mutters with an almost a sadistic glee. “We will not” Taren says wearily as he continues looking. He also finds a spear or parts of one anyway next to the skull. The wood on the spear is mostly rotting but he saves a pole about four foot long and the head is broken in two but he brings them as well. Next to the spear is a part of what looks like a beak of a glassbeak, “Shyke never had a chance then” he mutters, however the only other thing of use was the half broken beak and it may be of some use so he brings it as well. Looked like a small herd of cattle had been around at some point, or at least that is what he thinks the track are. Wanting to get back to camp, he drinks from the river again before grabbing his items and then starts his way back to camp.
Last edited by Taren Coballon on July 24th, 2018, 7:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Taren Coballon
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Survival on the Sea of Grass

Postby Taren Coballon on July 23rd, 2018, 5:44 pm

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As Taren walks through the grass on his way back, he looks for the marker he set on his snare. The marker was a stack of tall grass he had raised higher than the surrounding grass so he could find it over a distance. The first time he set the snare, he almost lost it because he couldn’t find it again and it took him almost an entire day to find it again. Now he was much more careful to watch his placement and mark it so he could find it when he wanted and sure enough he was able to pick out the marker and make his way to it only to find the snare sprung but with nothing in it. Taren steps away from the snare and walks some steps away before leaning down and grabbing a couple of handfuls of dirt and grass. He also notices tracks around the snare as well so he resets the whole thing and hides it better than he did last time.before finishing his trek back to camp.

As he returns to camp, he sets the broken spear shaft, two pieces of spear head, broken beak on top of the hill besides the stones he found earlier while he unceremoniously drops the skull with distaste. He then rounds up the grass in two piles and sits down between them and crosses his legs, remembering bits from his teachings as a young akalak, he starts making logs out of the grass with mostly the dryer grass but also a little of the still greener pile. Once he had a small handful he would find one of the longest stalks and tie the whole thing up into a nice little bundle. He varied the amounts of green grass as he did not know what would be best to burn or even if he had it correct. Within the bell he had a dozen or two bundles and was down to a couple of very small piles of grass to start a fire with and as luck would have it the sun was was starting to set. After grabbing his flint and steel from his pack, he moves his supplies to the middle of the clearing and sits back down.

Throwing a small bit of the dried grass into a pile directly in front of him, he starts attempting to strike the flint and steel but with no success at all. “Much easier back at home isn’t it” he grumps but continues on. As the light fades, he continues trying, first using his body to block the slight breeze which helps but once it even lights it goes right out. Taren sits back and thinks about it before he decides to dig a small hole for the fire but the dirt here is dry so he grabs the beak and uses it as a scoop to remove some of the dirt until it crumbles in his hand. Finishing the hole with his hands he piles a little grass in the bottom and strikes the flint again. Sparks first and then a small fire starts in the hole. He cautiously feeds the fire with the loose grass. Grabbing his lakan, he cuts the grass log down to set it inside the hole. However he knows the fire will not last long with the amount of fuel he has so once he feels it will be good, he lets it die on down with not needing the heat or the light from it. He also pushes the dirt back inside it to make sure he doesn’t start the sea on fire carelessly.

Using the bright moonlight and stars, Taren made sure no one or nothing important was around them from the top of the knoll and his akalak vision helped significantly. Although he walked up and down the knoll, while watching he was sure to kneel so his silhouette against the night sky did not give him away to anyone or anything that may be out there. Pulling his cloak from his pack, then setting the pack down as a pillow. Taren puts his long sword under him so he knows where it is and then wraps his cloak tightly around him with his Lakan on his chest, he stretches out listening to the night sounds and nightlife creep out and all around them as he falls asleep. The stars were bright and seem to twinkle in chorus for him, “This isn’t so bad after all, now is it brother” he thinks and grumps back with “The bed would be much more comfortable!” although slightly less aggravated than normal.
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Survival on the Sea of Grass

Postby Taren Coballon on July 24th, 2018, 7:38 pm

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Despite the cool morning air and the sleeping on the hard ground, Taren had rested well and woke refreshed knowing that the beauty of the Sea of Grass wasn’t as soft as it looked. Waking just as dawn was breaking, he lays their listening to the simple rush of the breeze thru the grass, the morning dew was on the top of the grass, and the birds were chirping innocently. One seemed really close, possibly a crimson jay from the sounds of it, however Taren started mimicking the bird as he lay there waking up. For almost a bell, he lays there and whistled back and forth with the jay, learning a bit of the sounds and by the end of the bell he felt quite accomplished that it they were actually going back and forth. However when he unwrapped his cloak and stood up, the bird flew away from on top of the knoll. He stretches and groans sounding like a bull more than anything else, the run yesterday and sleeping on the ground is making his muscles pay a price for it now.

After a drink of water, he starts performing his morning exercises just as normal to keep himself limber and to work out the stiffness. First he stretches the various muscles, especially the sore ones, then he starts into doing his warm up and then he finally works into his forms and combat positions for unarmed combat along with going thru the motions for his disarms, weapon blocks, strikes, kicks, and punches. After grabbing his long sword he also spends a little time practicing with it doing some blocks, thrusts, and parries as he has learned so far. By this time he has worked up quite a sweat and hunger so he finishes up and puts his gear away. Sitting down next to his pack he breaks out the last of the days rations he brought. After his quick and short meal he drains the last of the waterskin from the previous day.

After seeing the fish in the river yesterday he had been thinking about fishing however he did not have any pole, hooks, or line but he wondered if he could improvise a spear out of the spear shaft so he grabbed the broken shaft and head and started trying carve it down to some kind of a point. Although it kind of works, he ends up grabbing his Lakan to finish off the point to something respectable and something that might spear a fish.. Throwing his sword on his back, Lakan on his hip, and spear and waterskin in his hand he takes off for the river at a run with the hopes of 2nd breakfast being a fresh fish!
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Taren Coballon
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Survival on the Sea of Grass

Postby Taren Coballon on July 27th, 2018, 7:58 pm

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As soon as he arrived near the river he starts to check around for any changes of any form in the area. Once he was satisfied that nothing was going to attack him and nothing was around to eat did he approach the river. First thing he did of course is to drink his fill again followed by filling the water skin in the cool running water. Finding a dry and safe area, he quickly camouflages his gear under some grass and notes carefully the location and now with the makeshift spear in hand he heads back to the river to scout for some fish. Up and down the river he goes, finding fish and attempting to spear them. First from the bank but that was never close enough and when he entered the water it always spooked the fish.

Wading into the water he continues to hunt heading downstream however he quickly realizes the fish are no longer around and probably avoiding his smell so he carefully moves out a little further and heads back upstream until he starts seeing fish again. Now in the water and heading upstream he is seeing the larger fish again, ones he might have a chance of spearing so he starts watching carefully and trying to not splash water anywhere. With the makeshift spear at the ready, he starts attempting to spear again. After missing several more attempts on spearing his frustrations get the better of him. He strikes with more strength than intended, however it does spear a fish but also strikes a large rock on the bottom and shatters his spear in two. His quick reactions, let him grab the broken half with the fish still on it before it floats away. At least we get some more breakfast” he mutters.

The fish was smaller than it looked in the water and it would not feed him well however it would put something in the stomach so he would not have to travel on empty. With the fish, his new kindling wood, and his pack that he grabs quickly on the way he heads for camp but stops at t the edge of the grass to quickly to gut the fish with his lakan and leaves the remains near the river so he doesn’t pull any unwanted guests to his camp. As he moves into the grass he quickly notices a storm brewing off in the distance and suspects he will not be able to outrun it if he wants and will have to push thru it before he gets home to Riverfall. With a watchful eye on the storm he quickly heads to camp to scrap out the bottom of his campfire again and start a new fire.

Enlarging the hole in the ground for a slightly larger fire, he tosses some grass in the bottom and gets it light quite quickly this time. Breaking the dry half of the spear up more he throws it around the fire and then sets a grass log or two on it to make some nice coals. Once started it burns quickly and the grass burns fast lighting the wood on fire as well and before long it’s hot enough to throw his fish on it, scales and all so he can roast it nicely.

Thanks to Gossamer for the boxcode
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Taren Coballon
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Survival on the Sea of Grass

Postby Taren Coballon on July 28th, 2018, 5:25 am

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While the fish cooks, Taren packs up the little bit of camp that he has and prepares to leave it. He quickly runs out and resets his snare into a new position. He will come out in a couple of days to see if he caught anything yet. His new location looked more promising as he thought he saw a nest close to it and hopefully it will catch something by then and heads back to camp. The storm is moving faster towards him now and he wants to get moving to Riverfall quickly. Once the fish is looking done, he sets it on his pack to cool while he pours a little water on the remaining coals and then drags the dirt back into the pit to extinguish the fire entirely. His campsite would be quickly taken over by the Sea within no time and no one would even know he had been here.

Throwing his gear on quickly, he makes his way to find some tracks he had seen earlier and wanted to see where they lead too. He thought they were tracks of a herd of cattle but wasn’t certain so he ate his fish as he walked. He admitted to himself that the fish tastes quite good but he definitely was not a cook and needs to learn a bit of it but It did fill the stomach so after a drink of water he felt refreshed and ready for the journey. Picking up his pace on the trail, he passes the distance quicker and within a bell or two he comes upon a herd of cattle and was very pleased with himself for it but also knew the trail wasn’t difficult either. With the storm coming he wasted no time with the cattle but instead turned to Riverfall. He was closer than the camp but the cattle had pulled him of course a bit and the he now could hear the thunder rumble in the distance and the occasional flash of light while the breeze was turning faster and faster. Luckily the wind was at his back and did make the run considerable cooler.

Still trying to keep the running pace he had yesterday worked better for the most part but he kept having to reign himself in because of the storm. Soon the storm darkened the skies and thunder and lightning crashed around him. When the rains started, he stopped only long enough to pull his cloak and don it to keep some of the weather at bay but the winds made it near impossible. As night approached the storm intensified until he was walking carefully in the dark. Although he had to be getting close to Riverfall, he could no longer make out landmarks to find his way and that is when he stumbled in a hole and fell cracking his leg on a sharp rock that slices the calf open nicely. Between the storm, not seeing well, and now the leg he decided to break until it let up some. He lets the clean rain water cleanse out the cut some before he cuts off the slashed pant leg and makes a bandage out of it to stop the bleeding. Once finished he uses pack again as a pillow and curls himself up into a ball under his cloak to keep most of the weather out and sleeps for a bell or two while the storm rages around him.

Taren wakes to find himself soaked to the bone, muscles sore, his leg has stopped bleeding but is stiff, and the storm is still going. Lessened some from the worst but still storming horribly, his cloak is as wet as the ground so he starts the last bit into Riverfall. Luckily he made it further than he thought last night and within the bell he is entering the gates to Riverfall. The guards barely notice him except to wave him through the gate but immediately go back inside to watch as Taren limps his way home.

ledger-2 days rations

Thanks to Gossamer for the boxcode
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Taren Coballon
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Survival on the Sea of Grass

Postby Ruvya on October 10th, 2018, 4:48 am

GRADE ON THE WAY
 
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