Flashback A Ride in the Countryside

[Fallan Windchaser]

85 Winter, 507AV

Fallan sat easily on the back of Stormdancer, the pad between him and the sensitive spine of the horse, the fingers of his right hand resting easily upon the yvas. Behind him lay the family pavilion and the herd, whilst ahead of him lay only the empty plain. The city of Endrykas had now moved further West and the family had allowed it to drift onwards without them, saying goodbye for now to other members of the Clan and friends, some of whom they might not see again until the at least the following Fall when the seasons brought the city back around the Run once more.

For the moment the terrain that Fallan rode over was familiar for he retraced the route of the Run, and in part this was deliberate for although just at the moment it meant that they, and it was they for the family would follow him shortly, were heading over an area which was partly foraged out and where the better areas of grass had been grazed off short, that would soon change, especially with the grass which would be starting to sprout out fresh green stems with the coming of Spring. For plant foraging then yes, it would mean longer forays out and it was in part that Fallan now had as a purpose for his journey.

The web provided his father with some information about the route that lay ahead of them but it did not tell them everything. More than that though, there were other reasons for assigning Fallan with the role of scout and forager. Their route would not follow exactly the path of the Run back, indeed it would be strange to do so all things considered. Some of the time the family would be out with the herd or moving the pavilion and all of these allowed time for the experienced foragers of the family time to forage. The herd moved slowly and the family knew what plants were edible, what they looked like and they had plenty of opportunity to keep an eye out for them. Small prey animals were the same, either with traps overnight at the camp or pavilion as well as chance encounters out in the grasslands especially with larger prey all of which were easily run down with the striders.

In truth then the foraging part of Fallans current mission was somewhat unnecessary, though it didn’t hurt if he happened to see something of interest off the path of the families progress such as bushes coming into early flower that were suited to harvest either for their scent or to infuse into drinks and the like. He wasn’t unaware of the spurious side of the assignment but then most of the family at some time simply wanted to get away and to have some time to themselves. The better part for him, and the more real, if still somewhat spurious reason was for him to practice his self reliance, his ability to survive without the family and this was a serious and necessary need. The real reasons for his assignment were not verbalised by anyone in his hearing and if he was aware, and deep down he was, no one was arguing.

[Fallan Windchaser]

Regardless of however spurious and unnecessary his journey was, the incontrovertible fact was that Fallan was out riding on his own with only the most tenuous links back to his family. In truth though the lives of the family depended to a lesser or greater degree on information. There was a base level of skill which allowed them to forage, to know what should be available in a particular terrain at a particular time of year. However, successful foragers knew more than this, for it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for it implied a random search in the countryside, no matter how much skill might guide that search. Of course the family was at a disadvantage here as they shifted constantly and so they lacked the intimate knowledge that resident foragers would build.

It wasn’t quite that bad though for typically the family were in the same places at the same time of year, so whilst they lacked the ability to see plants and grazing marks which would then allow them to come back another time, even another time of year, to harvest, they could still build up the same information over the years. Putting aside the questions over how that information was retained to be used, given that they would be roaming these lands for generations, what Fallan did now was to roam outside of the normal paths and add information into the pool. Or at least gather information that the family would add to the pool. Significant finds and places would shift the families path and even be added into the family webs.

But such were the serious side and for now Fallan was young and away from his mothers control so such things were very far away indeed from his mind. What he saw was the ending of Winter and the coming of Spring, for all that it had yet to really make itself known, especially North where the snows likely still laid thick and the dreams of sun and warmth were still only that.

He guided Stormdancer along a small valley, natural caution making his avoid the hill tops though that was very much a difficult choice. Breaking skylines was one way to very easily catch the eyes of others, be they potentially hostile people or predators and he really didn’t want to attract the attention of anything like a pack of glassbeaks. On the other hand the skylines provided a good way to see ahead himself and to avoid the potential risk of ambush which a valley brought with it. Survival wasn’t clear cut and he’d been told often enough that knowledge was only a part of the whole, what counted most was the experience in how and when to apply it.

The valley tapered out, becoming absorbed by the hills around it, but even the ridges were lowering around him in general and it seemed that he was coming to a higher level plain. Before he reached the top, he slipped off and started to lead Stormdancer on foot. He waved her to a stop just below the crest of the hill and made his own way to the top of the rise, choosing a point where some bushes softened the sharp edge so that his shape was obscured to anyone who might have been looking. It seemed that caution was unnecessary in this case and he whistled his strider to him, remounting and moving on to the plain, angling towards a darker area in the distance that promised some sort of scrubby growth that might allow a sheltered camp for the night.

[Fallan Windchaser]

There was a bit of wind coming up now and it carried with it the feel of distant snow and ice, but softened as though it knew that the battle was lost, for this year at least. Mixed in was the scent of grass and growth along with the sharp and slightly overpowering smell of damp soil, of peat and slightly stagnant water. Fallan shivered a little as the wind played with his hair and found a gap to leak down his collar and onto his back. He twitched his collar tighter and shrugged his shoulders whilst Stormdancers hooves sucked free from the wet peaty soil.

It was the wind that drew him towards the scrubby growth ahead as much as anything else for he hoped that it would provide some degree of shelter, as well perhaps as yielding some firewood to supplement the dried chips that he carried. Riding light as the Drykas did was all very well when they were accompanied by their waggons which held the Pavilion and all of the associated gear, but when out on their own then it required a very different skill set from the average rider whose horse would be laden down with bags containing all sorts of useful but rarely used items.

Fallan was more akin to a traveller who moved with just his own two feet to carry him and for whom every last item that was carried needed to be judged, assessed and reassessed to ensure that it really did earn it’s place each and every day. Things that were nice were not essential. Things that made life comfortable were not essential. Of course there were things that were essential that were also nice and made life comfortable, but each thing had to earn its place and justify being carried.

In a small oilskin pouch that hung around his neck and under his clothes were the various things he collected as firelighters. The pouch kept these as warm and dry as it was possible for anything that he carried to be, ensuring that they stayed able to catch and light from the smallest of sparks. Again, in the waggons, firepots ensured that fire as always available and even the loss of the flame in a single pot was rarely critical.

The grasslands were on the whole poor as a source of fuel which was why nomads such as the Drykas relied to some degree on the one easily available source which was the dried dung of grazing animals which consisted of the parts of plants which did not easily digest and it was those parts which burnt the best. The smell wasn’t something that Fallan really paid much attention to any more though he noticed it more when visiting other peoples for trading and the scents of wood smoke were exotic and sour.

Winter was a bad time for drying dung and Fallan looked forward to the Summer when the need for fires were less and the dung burnt more cleanly. At his knee rode another small oilskin pouch containing his small reserve of dried dung. It wasn’t something that he could afford to dip into except when really necessary and so one of the foraging tasks that made up any day included keeping an eye out for anything that might burn cleanly. One day he had thoughts of becoming a Stormwarden who could create stormgems to light and heat without the inconvenience of a small and smoky fire, but that was a distant dream.

[Fallan Windchaser]

It was at the tail end of winter and though the days were still getting brighter and warmer, Fallan was not attempting to cross the maximum distance in the least amount of time. Such might be necessary in an emergency, but that sort of travel was most likely to end up creating its own emergency if done for more than a day or two at a time.

Striders could be very fast when drawing from the webs, but even so they were horses and shared all of their other needs. One of those needs was feeding and since Fallan was not carrying a large supply of feed with him this meant that Stormdancer needed to graze. Grazing animals spent a large part of the day doing just that and horses were little different. If they were ridden all day then they either needed feeding a good quality feed and have some time to graze or they would graze into the night and that was simply not sustainable for very long. Since Drykas would rarely be interested in abusing their horses, they paced their journeys accordingly and Fallan was no different in this.

Thus, even though the day was still bright and the darkness some way off, Fallan was already thinking of where to set camp. This would allow him time to get the fire set up, including time to find somewhere to put it and to find the firewood and get his meal cooking. Then he could consider the actual setting up of the camp itself. Of course this was his plan for this day, circumstances often altered how he chose to camp, in particular if the weather wasn’t good as then he would be considering shelter first, but such choices were quite automatic now since he had spent so much time during his life in doing just this.

Riding was on the whole a very laid back affair, at least compared to walking, or so Fallan imagined since he had hardly done that at all and not for any distance. Because so much of the journey revolved around the needs of the horse the breaks were extended, no kit needed to be carried by himself and all he needed to do was sit there whilst the landscape slowly moved past him. Riding had some disadvantages and it would be all too easy to allow himself to get out of shape whilst being conveyed from camp site to camp site, but on the whole Fallan could not complain of it. Rarely then was Fallan actually idle for all of that. When riding he was considering routes, foraging and simply being aware of the land around him. There was more that he wished to do in that time for he felt that he was missing something, a something that he had yet to understand what it was. He suspected that it was related to the webs for he could almost feel the information tingling in the air around him, and yet he could not access it properly on horseback. In camp there were always things to be done, scraps of wood to be carved into pot holders and such, leather to be repaired or worked and the same for clothes and so forth.

[Fallan Windchaser]

As with many travellers Fallan carried his essential kit in a small leather bag that could be either worn around his waist or attached to the yvas. This kit along with the knife on his belt contained everything that he needed to survive out on his own. This kit was never spread out into other bags, and if he carried other things, like leather work in progress then they were kept separate for in an emergency they could be abandoned.

As with many travellers Fallan was extremely scrupulous with his camp discipline. Something was only removed from a bag if and when it was to be used. The bag was refastened and the item returned, cleaned, when it was finished with and again the bag refastened. These were basic lessons that most learnt very early and generally by experience with misfortune. It was easy to lose things that were put aside in a camp; small items were covered by grass or trodden into soft earth and only at the next camp were they missed. Sometimes it was necessary to break camp in a hurry, sometimes in the dark and again it was only too easy to miss something then. When that something was the firelighter and a snow storm had come up then it threatened a solitary travellers very survival. Fallan, like those before him had learnt the power of habit and now he was meticulous with it even when he was back in the pavilion his kit was always packed and stowed neatly with only those things in use at that time out.

By now the scrubby patch had become closer and Fallan guided Stormdancer around it so that he could assess it carefully and decide if it was a good place to camp and if so where would be best. The ground sloped gently which he approved of as it would help to ensure that any cold air which formed in the night would tend to slide off downhill and it should be reasonably well drained. The soil was firmer here and drier than it had been back at the edge of the plateau. The bushes were low but woody and looked able to break some of the wind as well as provide something to burn and something to pitch to. Just as important the visibility was good here and there were no signs of glassbeaks or similar predators. If he kept a reasonable watch then it should be safe enough, for some risks could never be avoided especially at this time of year when prey was harder to find and the predators were still hungry.

He made his choice and steered Stormdancer to it, slipping off then removing what kit he had from her back. He spend some time with her, but she was eager to graze and not overly interested so he let her go and quickly arranged the kit into order before setting off in the hunt for wood and for the signs of anything that he might be able to trap. For that reason he did not blunder about but walked slowly, his eyes carefully checking for sign, but still collecting some of the dead lower branches for these would be drier. He would collect some of the dead wood from the ground later; he knew only too well that anything from there would be damp and would need either a hotter fire or to be dried before burning.

[Fallan Windchaser]

He kept an eye on Stormdancer as he moved around, for she was as, if not more, alert to predators than he was, but she seemed comfortable enough so he brought what firewood he had found back and stacked it carefully. Selecting the more promising candidates he used his knife to shave them so that they lit more easily then sorted the wood into when it could be added to the emergent flames. With his knife he cut into the turf and pulled it aside so that the fire would not create a burnt patch which was a poor practice for a number of reasons which included leaving trace and because he needed to check if the soil here was peat which could smolder from the heat of his fire and then after he had gone burst into flame.

Taking the tinder pouch from around his neck he took some out and created a small nest along with his flint ad steel. These tools were expensive imported items but the most reliable by far way of making fire. A few strikes and there was the tiniest tendril of smoke from a spark and he carefully blew it into life. When the flames burst forth he laid it in the small fire pit and covered it with the first layer of twigs, then as the flames took hold he slowly built it up. The flint and steel were returned into his tinder pouch, resealed and slung once more around his neck.

Cooking did not need a large fire, indeed quite the opposite for a large fire produced too much heat for a small pot, so the available supply of burnable brush was adequate for what he needed. As it happened he had nothing that needed cooking for his rations were dried with some fresh vegetables that could be eaten raw, so his use for the fire was purely to heat water for drinks. After that he would bank the fire down so that it just produced a little heat and that would be reflected onto where he would sleep to keep the chill of the late winter night.

He planned to set some snares on where he had seen some animal pathways and if they produced anything during the night then he would take the time in the morning to prepare them and perhaps even to cook the meat on skewers made from green wood branches. When he was finished with the pot, ash would be added to the small amount of remaining water and the resultant mix used to remove the soot that the pan had gained from the fire. The remaining water and ash mix were poured carefully back into the edge of the fire and the outside scrubbed with grass. Another rinse and the pot was packed away into it’s leather bag, the bag serving to keep the rest of his kit at least somewhat clean because the pot was always a little dirty and greasy out in the wilderness. Water would be restocked in the morning once he had identified a clean source.

[Fallan Windchaser]

With the fire lit it was time to consider getting some water heated and for once he had the luxury of having some wood available which was not at all the case out in the grasslands, though these were not trees nor was the wood of constructional quality but it was quite good enough to be able to find some short stakes to be making a support for the fire. He had over the years used a number of ways of supporting pots over heat and in truth the method was often driven by the means at hand.


This time the scrub had yielded the wood to make two uprights with a side branch at approximately the same place along the stem so that when the base end was sharpened and thrust into the ground it left a ‘Y’ shaped fork. Another branch yielded the cross branch, the ends of which he shaped into a triangular profile which then locked into place in the fork of the uprights.

With a cord threaded around the cross piece turning the cross piece allowed him to raise or lower the pot at need to alter the amount of heat that struck the bottom of the pot. Leaving the water to boil, he cleared the ground under some shrub nearby so that he would be able to lay down on his saddle pad, which would keep the chill of the ground off his body. He didn’t think that it was going to rain and in summer would not have bothered with any more protection but now though it could still be warm during the day, the nights lost their heat quickly and several times in recent nights there had been a heavy dew in the morning. For both of these reasons he used some cord from his gear to rig up his tin cloth above the bed so that it would both serve to keep some heat in and to prevent the dew from settling on his and his things. The cloth itself would dry quickly in the morning from the warmth of the morning sun if he laid it over one of the scrubby bushes.

With shelter prepared, a fire lit with water heating and with spare firewood laid ready there was little more that he needed to do. If there were some stones available he would try and make a reflector so that any heat from the banked fire overnight would help keep him warm, but that could wait until he had seen to Stormdancer who still grazed nearby. He took the comb and brushes from his gear and used the time when he was grooming him to make a careful inventory of any injuries he might have picked up, checking especially his legs for cuts and running his hands along them looking for any swelling or unusual warmth which might indicate an injury or infection. The hooves as ever he took special care over as the ground had been wet in some places and stony in others, but all seemed well and turning loose the horse to carry on grazing he returned to his camp and made good for the night.

[Taylani]

XP Award!

Fallan Windchaser:

XP Award:

• +5 Riding
• +1 intelligence 2
• +1 land navigation
• +3 wilderness survival: Cyphrus region

Lore:

• Tensions in the family
• Intelligence: Gathering information off the beaten paths to add to family knowledge.
• Each thing had to earn its place and Justify being carried
• Desire to become Stormwarden
• Wilderness Survival :Building a fire
• Wilderness Survival: Boiling Water

Comments :

I really enjoyed this solo. Feel free to PM me if you have any concerns, and don’t forget to edit/delete your grade request. .

TAYLANI