Earning Your Stripes [Siiri]

[Cayenne]

TS: 55th of Winter, 509 AV

Tigers were part of everyday life in Taloba.

They roared to greet Syna. They roared to greet Leth. They were companions, friends, defenders, and hunters. They were partners to their savage riders in every way that mattered. They were Navre's gift to the Myrians - vicious predators that didn't hesitate to defend what, and who, was theirs. Myrians were meant to be fighters - that was what they were born to do, taught to do from a very young age. But becoming enough of a warrior that you had earned your stripes... proved yourself worthy of a Tiger... that was a real accomplishment. Some warriors, hardened from campaigns throughout the jungle, said it was more of a ceremony than anything else - that the so-called Tiger Trials depended more on the Tiger and the rider-to-be, because the skills that were required to be considered for a tiger were what each and every Myrian was supposed to have. But for a young warrior working towards earning their first... it was a far more daunting task. With the terrain and the vegetation, and the beasts that hunted the Myrians as much as the Myrians hunted them, a Tiger moved a lot better and a lot faster than a Leopardbred... with none of the fears that came from the spotted equines.

There was always at least one Tiger attached to every household, usually more. Siiri had grown up with a few of them - older Tigers that were retired, but still had tooth in them yet. It wasn't unusual to see these older cats accompanying the hunters and fishers out to gather food, or to find one keeping a lazy eye, along with a half-dozen colourful Riamm, on a pack of dirty, exuberant, and often bloody kids. Like their riders, because their ages were getting up there didn't mean that they were excused from work.

The first step to getting a tiger was to go and talk to one of the officers with their own, and that was where Siiri was going now... in hopes of convincing her to put her forward for a recommendation to begin her Trial. And the best place to find Kash'jiya was in the training yards. If she wasn't outside of the city, she could usually be found torturing trainees and students and soldiers, or sparring with other officers. It was just a matter of checking her various haunts. As the young woman approached the open training fields, she could see various groups - in one corner, there was a group of youngsters brawling, another, new trainees were being tested on their basics of blade work under the watchful eye of one of Siiri's old instructors, Ackaris of the Slitted Throat. He was on the shorter side of the Myrians, but even on his burly biceps were the dark stripes of the tiger. He may have been male, but he sure as hell wasn't afraid of throwing his considerable weight around. You didn't get anywhere in Taloba by being timid.

The woman she was seeking, Kash'jiya of the Jagged Blade, was indeed busy. Standing at 6'5", nearly, she was a tall woman, and had the hardened body of a warrior. Her skin was almost copper under the sun, gleaming with sweat from the heat of midday as she fought with two blades, one of them a more normal sword, almost as long as Siiri's leg, made of Tskanna tusk, and the other equally as long and even more fearsome - it had three prongs on it, made for catching other weapons, ripping them out of their wielder's grip, and goring their opponent, all at the same time. It may not have been made of steel, but the thing was just as powerful. Her Tiger was lounging nearby, chewing on a massive, dense bone what must have belonged to some monstrosity, because it was huge and giving the massive cat's jaws a good workout as she gnawed contentedly. Kash'jiya was squaring off against Zhevris of the Hidden Path, almost as tall as Kash'jiya, and no less fierce, wielding a double-ended scythe. It was a tall weapon, with a menacing, curved blade half its length jutting out, both edges sharp enough to split a hair. And at the other end of the scythe was a similar blade, pointing in the opposite direction.

The frenzied pair had obviously been at it a while. Those who didn't think battle took very long had never watched a pair of Myrians work it out. Duels could take quite a while. And these two weren't taking it easy either, Siiri could tell from the way they were actually trying to injure the other. Such battles were necessary - not only to keep instincts, mind, and bodies sharp, but to maintain the respect of their warriors. Playing it safe was pathetic. Respect wasn't earned and kept because someone said so - respect was earned and kept by what they had done, and what they able to do. They had gathered an audience who ringed around them now, watching with acute interest, some of them hitting the ground with the butts of weapons, or striking a shield as they watched, the frenetic rhythm accompanying the harsh clashes of steel against tusk. Kash'jiya caught the end of the scythe in the pronged weapon, and was working to wrench it, to force it away and against Zhevris, to use her own weapon against her while reaching with her other blade as Zhevris was forced into a dance, trying to avoid the other blades, one of them being at the end of her own weapon while trying to untangle it from the grip Kash'jiya had on it. She had broken out of the hold before, and was trying to again.

And then it was all over, as Zhevris froze, the tip of Kash'jiya's sword embedded between her ribs. She could have twisted it or plunged it in, but there was no need - the battle was over. Zhevris had no choice but to yield, her pose relaxing even as sweat dripped from her limbs, blood trickling from various slices to her skin from near misses. Kash'jiya removed her sword, and adjusted the pronged blade to allow Zhevris to remove her scythe before putting her swords into her belt, and reaching to clasp Zhevris' forearm, and pull her into an embrace, words being exchanged that the others couldn't hear, murmured from one ear to another as the women grinned at each other, clapping their opponent on the back before letting go, and going their own ways. The crowd drifted apart - while it was thrilling to watch, they had battles of their own to fight.

Kash'jiya whistled for her Tiger, then, her long, heavy braid, composed of thousands of tiny little braids swinging with the movement as she stretched and rotated her shoulders, one hand on a hip as the Tiger stretched and made his way over to his rider, his prize still in his jaws. Now was her chance, and fortune favoured the bold.

[Siiri]

Awed but ultimately undaunted by the display of combat prowess, Siiri tossed her head as she strode purposefully towards Kash’jiya, the sharp tips of the crocodile teeth tied at the ends of her braids making soft plink-plink-plink sounds as they bumped softly against the metal part of the greatsword sheathed behind her back. She eyed the Tiger coming from the other direction admiringly before saluting to her fellow warrior and superior. The crocodile tattoo on her left arm seemed to come alive at the movement, the tattooed snake on her wrist seemingly suffering anew from it.

“An impressive fight,” Siiri said, calling Kash'jiya's attention to her. Not one to waste time on small talk, she barged on, “I don't believe I've had the chance to serve under you since I started here all those years ago but I am Siiri, of the Snapping Jaws. I've come to ask for your recommendation to allow me to take the Tiger Trials.”

Siiri stood at attention, schooling her facial muscles to relax, though the slight tightness on her brows told her that one of her eyebrows was threatening to arch up to its favorite place on her forehead. It couldn't be helped. She just hoped she presented herself confidently without appearing haughty. Her mates at the barracks always told her she gave that impression with her sharp features. She couldn't let such a minor thing affect her chances of taking the Trials. She wanted her own Tiger, and badly.

[Cayenne]

Kash'jiya nodded at Siiri's approach, and raised a hand in greeting. She had no cause to salute to the younger woman. "Well met, Siiri of the Snapping Jaws." She returned the greeting as she stood, stretching her muscles, and listened to her request, studying the other woman as she did so. Sharp eyes took every detail - right down to the crocodile teeth, and the gigantic blade on her back. The massive tiger, devoid of tack and anything else, approached, pressing his massive head against the tall woman's leather-clad hip, rumbling a little. Clearly, the big male was a talkative one, neither purring nor growling, just rumbling to voice his presence. He turned his attention from her, then, to eye Siiri, his gleaming eyes checking her over. It wasn't like he remotely considered her a threat - she was Myrian, after all - but he continued to rumble, as if demanding to know exactly who she was and why she was delaying his rider, until Kash'jiya reached and took one end of the bone with both hands, wrenching it a little, as if to initiate a game of tug. He quieted down immediately, giving it a jerk back, and the warrior let him have the bone, but not before thumping his shoulder with a fist. "Knock it off," she warned him. "The Tiger Trials, huh?"

She returned her attention to Siiri, and jerked her head in the direction of the garrison. "Walk with me and Riv," she told the young Myrian as she started towards the buildings at the far end of the training fields. "I've heard of you... Eena of the Swooping Talons, wasn't it? How long have you been enlisted, Siiri? How old are you?" There was thousands enlisted at any one time, after all - superior rank though Kash'jiya may be, she couldn't be expected to remember everyone. She grinned at her. "Do you already ride a Leopardbred or some other horse?" While riding a horse was different from a tiger, still... some skills were somewhat applicable. Riv looked up at her as Kash'jiya spoke, still gnawing on the bone as they walked, his piercing stare almost a dare, as if to ask her, 'are you seriously ready for something like me?'

[Siiri]

Siiri returned Riv's stare with equal intensity, one eyebrow raised. She could sense the strange intelligence in its eyes, almost judging her, weighing her worth. Had she been anyone other than a Myrian, she knew the creature would most likely have ripped her face off or disemboweled her with a single swipe of its enormous paw. Holding its gaze a few moments more, she bared her teeth at the Tiger in a caricature of a toothy grin, as if to imply that they were cut out from the same mold, before turning to Kash'jiya to reply.

“I turned twenty-four last fall, and I've been in the army since I was old enough to be allowed in. Been here ever since.” She turned once more to the Tiger, considering the girth of its broad shoulders and general musculature as she continued. “I've no previous riding experience. Personally, I would rather run into battle by myself that ride on something I might have to defend in the midst of combat. If I will have a mount, it must be one that's able to hold its own against our enemies.” Siiri paused, as if suddenly realizing something. “Of course, if I ever do get one, that would mean I have to compete with it for kills,” she muttered in mock concern. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “At any rate, that's why I came to you.”

[Cayenne]

Kash'jiya watched the silent interaction between Siiri and Riv, judging, considering. The Tiger stared right back at her, and Siiri's thinking was correct - if anyone but a Myrian had dared to stare at him like that, the tiger would have traded the bone he was carrying for the offender's skull. But she was a Myrian, and Myrians learned to respect their fierce mounts while earning and keeping the respect of their Tiger... not necessarily an easy task. Riv rumbled some more, but was content to turn his large head away when Siiri did, eying an older tiger-- one that was doubtless retired if the faded fur on its muzzle was any indication--as it followed a scout clad in the green and brown leathers of the jungle as he came out of the armory, carrying two leather quivers of arrows.

The other woman listened to Siiri's answers, even as her eyes swept over the training yard, nodding. "Horses. More of a nuisance than they're worth," she shook her head. The Leopardbreds were always antsy around the Tigers, though they had good reason. They made a good snack for the vicious predators. "I only ask since the basics of riding the horses and our Tigers are somewhat alike... but fair enough. With a Tiger, you're not worrying about looking after it," she laughed at Siiri's comment. "You'll have to work harder to keep up your own head counts," she grinned.

By now, they had reached the armory, attached to the garrison - essentially the Myrian army's headquarters. Many of the officers shared an office here, and it was where plenty of planning and information was shared. It was a big stone building, the walls lined with skulls and skeletons. "But you were right to come to me," Kash'jiya led the way through the open hall. "Twenty-four... good couple of years, haven't you?" she was musing aloud. Eena had mentioned her, and Kash'jiya would ask around later to see what the others had to say about the soldier. Eight years, nearly... It was towards this circular office in the center that they went to. In the mean time, Kash'jiya thought as she made her way towards one of the bone desks, the young woman could damn well get started. A few other officers were in there in a heated discussion, but they greeted Kash'jiya before going back to their debate.

She picked up a carved wooden disk, holding the smooth, painted thing in her hands before nodding and holding it out to Siiri. "Take this to Iami of the Painted Skies. She'll know what it means." The disk was embossed with a picture of the same three-pronged weapon that hung from Kash'jiya's hip, and on the other side was a pair of crossed, jagged blades that dripped blood - Kash'jiya's family emblem. "Good luck on your trials. I expect to hear good things about you, Siiri," she reached for Siiri's forearm and clasped it before clapping the younger Myrian's shoulder.

Iami of the Painted Skies... "You'll probably find her in the leathers room," the officer told her as she released her. Siiri knew well where that was - she'd had more than one run-in with Iami, who was half-blind from a fight with a Dhani. She and her Tiger had killed the snake, and the child that had been taking during his coming-of-age trials had been rescued, as the stories went. But it had not been without cost - Iami could no longer see in one eye, and the tiger had gotten a broken leg in the fight. She was dismissed, but Siiri's objective was achieved. Now, she could go and find Iami.

Iami was where Kash'jiya predicted her to be. The Myrian didn't do much by way of scouting work any more, but she was sharp at organizing and coordination... as well as being an utter nightmare when it came to leather armor and making sure that it was in good condition. Determined not to be rendered useless by the fact she couldn't see from her left eye any more, the middle-aged woman had set her hand to what she could do at home. She was busy when Siiri found her way through the armory to the big room filled with leathers to fit every size. She turned her head to look at her with her good eye, as the useless one seemed to stare emptily at nothing - Iami never covered it. A large bloodbill, its crimson beak vivid against its black and white plumage, squawked a greeting from where it was perched on a stool beside the warrior. Iami was seated on another, repairing a torn breastplate. Her dark hair was tied in a series of warrior's knots as she worked, keeping it well out of her way, and her right arm was lined from shoulder to wrist with the tiger's stripes - she had earned them by completing the same trial that Siiri now sought to challenge herself. Once she was finished... she'd have her own tattoo of the stripes etched into her skin, announcing to everyone that she had earned the Tiger.

"Siiri of the Snapping Jaws. Haven't had anything torn that you're hiding from me, are you?" she said with a mock glare by way of greeting. "Needing something?"

[Siiri]

Siiri stared at the disk Kash'jiya gave her as she made her way towards the armory. She wondered briefly when she would reach officer level in the army, and, if the opportunity came, if she would even want such a position. It would provide her some degree of prower and prestige, two things she found quite attractive, but ultimately, she knew it would become more a prison for her than anything else. She craved for freedom, adventure and new experiences; being stuck as a Fang leader would not give her these things. It would not help her find the means to cure her sister's leg, and most likely, her mother would use that to strengthen her case in making Siiri the heir of their clan. No, she decided, she certainly did not want to take a step in that direction. Better to remain a warrior among the rank and file, being sent to different parts of Falyndar to scout, raid or engage enemies in combat. She will not be tied down by the army; having served the mandatory duration in it, she could come and go as she pleased. Who knows, she might even have the chance to venture out of the jungle to see what new challenges and opportunities the rest of the world offered.

Siiri didn't realize she's arrived in the leathers room until Iami spoke. Her musing disrupted, she greeted the older woman with the warrior's hand clasp. “Don't worry, I left my armor in the barracks this time,” she laughed. Her role as a front liner in the army often left her armor damaged, a fact that Iami never failed to chastise her for.

“I trust I find you well?” Siiri asked politely. She flipped the disk Kash'jiya gave her between her fingers before handing it to the woman. “I'm actually here for something else. Kash'jiya bade me give you this. Said you'd know what it's for.”

[Cayenne]

Iami gave her a prompt thump on the back with camaraderie, having stood up and put things down for the moment to do so, and stretched. Time flew when you were hard at work, and Iami was a woman of industry. She was good at what she did, and people were constantly tearing their leathers, or tarnishing them, or getting something on them... It was a never-ending job, and often a thankless one, but it had to be done. Occasionally Iami had an apprentice or two in here with her, but today, she was by herself, not that she seemed to mind. While she was a good teacher, she'd once taken a breastplate from an unfortunate recruit who had tried to mend it and whacked them in the head with it for doing more harm to the leather than good. "Just as well," the scout sighed. "Someone thought it was a good idea to wrestle with an older Tiger cub, and this," she held up the tattered remains of what Siiri recognized to once have been a perfectly good chest piece, "is all that's left. It'll have to be taken apart for scraps." She tossed the ruined armor onto the stool that she had been sitting on.

"Well enough," Iami allowed as the bloodbill was creeping off of its perch towards Siiri, its dark, beady-looking eyes glinting with ill-meant mischief, the massive, elongated beak open slightly, the ridges clearly visible in the sunlight illuminating the room. Siiri had seen the results of others grabbed by a territorial bloodbill before - one had lost a finger, another had lost the sight in one eye, not to mention numerous scars and wounds obtained from the avian menaces while harvesting the mikmik trees. This one, tame though it may have been, looked like it was going to attempt to claim a new victim.

Iami turned her head to regard Siiri with her good eye before reaching for the disk. "I do, yes," she held it up. "This, Siiri, is Kash'jiya's recommendation for you to begin your tiger trials." the older woman grinned at her. "Which means, warrior, that you're in for the ride of your life. Well done." By now, the bloodbill was reaching for Siiri's hand, beak open intently before it made a final lunge for her. "As you may well already know, this is how it works," Iami held up the disk. "A superior officer gives their recommendation to a warrior that they feel has considerable skills, leadership ability, and strength, and is ready for a Tiger." She turned the disk with her fingers. "Which you've got. So the next step falls to me, which means I arrange your trials. They follow the same format as your Coming of Age did... combat, obstacles, and the hunt," she listed them on her fingers before swiftly snatching at the bloodbill's feet and turning the bird upside down, holding it by its toes as it squawked with likely indignation.

"Two mornings from today, you'll begin your Tiger trials," Iami told Siiri over the displeased calls of the big bird. "Use your time wisely. Prepare well. A sacrifice to Navre may not go unnoticed." It was clear she was dismissed - Iami had plenty to set up now in preparation. Her time was her own now. Siiri knew that two days would come and go quickly - whatever she wanted to do, she had best get started.

[Siiri]

Siiri stood outside the barracks, pondering Iami’s words. Two days, the older woman said. She had two days to prepare for the actual Trials. Combat, obstacles and hunting – these things she had already expected, from the tales told by other Tiger riders of their own experiences. Physical challenges were so much a part of Myrian culture that it was almost a given in any test. But a sacrifice to Navre… now that might prove a little difficult. Siiri did not want to give just any sacrificial animal to the God of Felines.

The Myrian warrior gauged the position of Syna’s orb in the clear sky. It was an hour or so past midday. Most of the warriors would be sitting down for their meals, and those on post would be itching to get relieved to take their turn in filling their tummies. It was not a good time to disturb people, and she doubted two days were long enough to organize a Dhani hunt to give as an offering. Besides, she wanted to hunt by herself, to make the act more personal. She might not be able to offer one of the snake people to Navre, but she could give the next best thing.

Decided, Siiri stopped by the trading square for a rather expensive purchase before making her way to the city gates. She hoped to find a scouting party returning from one of their forays into the wilds, to inquire about the location of any serpent they found, preferably of the constrictor type. Nocturnal hunters, she knew such snakes would be slumbering in the heat of the day.

While snakes of any sort were not permitted within the city walls, the Myrian allowed, on occasion, real snakes to live and breed in the wild. They provided valuable training for children as well as served as the subject for small hunts. The Myrians also respected Caiyha too much to upset the balance of nature by hunting one of Her creations to extinction. At least that was the general consensus. Some warriors just killed snakes on sight, Dhani or not.

Siiri happened to be one of those. She approached their slaying with such zest that others found excessive. Some have said (behind her back, for fear of upsetting the volatile woman) that she saw that act of killing them as a sort of vindication for not being able to save her aunt all those years ago. Whether true or not, Siiri always ignored their whispers. If someone asked, she would say she just wanted to rid her corner of the world of such vermin. That they made excellent sacrifices to Navre right now was just a bonus.

Arriving at the gates, Siiri asked one of the guards if any scout just came in.

[Cayenne]

The Myrians were avid respecters of Caiyha. Generally they were careful with their hunting, but, as many of Siiri's teachers had cautioned, when it came to letting snakes live, the Dhani could blend in. Smaller ones? Not quite a big deal. But any time you saw the long ones... you killed them if you were able to. If you weren't, for whatever reason... you communicated to the others, stayed with the snake, used a tiger roarer, and got together some friends that could help kill it. Even if you had to chop it into pieces, you took it apart. Any snake that went with a Dhani, or was near one, or near Zinrah... it died, no questions asked. You didn't risk it.

The guards would be switching shortly from their position on the walls when their replacements arrived, and some were already switching now. The changing of the guard was always staged to make sure that some were watching and settled at the time as others finished their shifts. It didn't matter that most interlopers were caught well before they ever reached the sprawling city... those that came had the privilege of seeing the painted and decorated faces of the sentries staring at them as they entered Taloba, armed to the teeth with bows and blades and slings and other such menacing implements of death. It made for an image one did not forget easily... if at all.

The guard Siiri spoke to was a youngster of the Lost Grove family, if the tattoos over his eyes were anything to judge. He seemed to have just finished his shift, a knife at his hip and a bow in his hand, having dropped down from the wall, from ledge to ledge, and nodded in greeting to Siiri. "Scouting fang led by Lani of the Tiger Eyed is on the return," he told the older soldier. "Should be coming through the gate any time now." He pointed down with the unstrung bow at the group coming in. "Right there." When that was all, he waved, and headed for the armory.

Luckily for Siiri, she knew Lani. Lani of the Tiger Eyed was only of average height and build for a Myrian, with hazel eyes and a pair of braids lined with teeth and feathers. She wore the tiger's stripes on her exposed arm, matching the tattoo of the tiger that was on her breast, like all Tiger Eyed who had passed the Coming of Age. The Tiger Eyed, Siiri knew, came from Myri's blood lineage way back when, the offspring of her second daughter, Tika, not that it gave any of them any special standing. The group had clearly had a good run, considering their good humour, and by the look of them, they were on their way in to Scout's Roost. She could certainly go catch her, though, if she had a mind to do it.

[Siiri]

Siiri jogged towards the group, waving to catch Lani’s attention. She nodded in greeting to each member of the group but eventually focused on their leader. While Siiri stood taller than her and was perhaps a little more muscular, she knew one should never judge a fellow warrior by looks alone. Lani would not have reached the status of fang leader if she lacked skill and strength.

They clasped arms, Siiri nodding in deference to the higher ranked woman. She noted the tiger stripes on Lani’s arm; the woman was another tiger rider.

“You seem in good spirits. Had a clean run through your route, I take it?” Siiri smiled, carried by the group’s infectious mood. She continued to explain to Lani her desire to find a suitable sacrifice for Navre, as she would be taking her Tiger Trials in a few days. She expressed her hopes that the group had run across any slumbering serpents and if they did, would kindly point her to the right direction?

“The bigger, the better,” she quipped. She showed off her latest purchase, wrist bracers with three long blades attached to each of them. She was determined to pay Navre the highest respects by fighting like a wildcat in his honor. She would dispatch her sacrifice to him as one of his Tigers would slay and devour a Dhani.

“I hope you left a live one for me.”