So I claimed to be a writer of some sort, and in lieu of a rant tonight I decided to post a little piece that was inspired by both the White Wolf game Exalted and the style of Robert E. Howard. I warn you, this is a little long.
Blue's Story
Blue was born in the winter, and he was named so because of the color of his eyes—as blue as an icy lake in winter.
When every boy in the tribe came of age, he must go out into the wilderness on a vision quest. So on the eve of his eighteenth birthday he set out armed with only a pair of tiger claws and wrapped in a leather vest and pants. He packed no food. The vision-seeker was expected to provide for himself. It was the way of the tribe, and had been since time out of mind.
He lay with the Sky-Girl, the priestess in training, and promised he would come back to her. She felt a stab of fear as she ran her hands over the old scar that ran down his rib. It told the story of his first hunt. But to be a hunter was not enough, one also must possess the power and wisdom of the vision quest. She didn’t want him to go, but she didn’t dare to say it. It was the way.
Afterwards he left, and said no goodbyes. Most young men would come back after a few days, and sometimes weeks were not uncommon, and would return with some new vision of a god or totem, and would be welcomed as a man. So no one thought it strange when he did not return after a month. Winter turned to spring, and still they did not worry. The longest vision quest had taken almost two full seasons.
But when summer came they accepted the sad, inevitable truth. The Sky-Girl’s heart sank, and she dutifully continued her study. Everyone returned with a vision, or not at all.
***
Blue set off from the village at night while the snow fell and walked until morning. He trod across the snow without a sound. His senses, so finely tuned to the forest that he could find his way even on a moonless night such as this, warned him of danger before it would have befallen him.
And the first revelation that came to him in the forest was the secret foolishness behind this ritual, which was this—they didn’t tell you where the hell to go!
At dawn he dug a burrow in a snowdrift, and slept for a few hours. When he woke the sun had come out from behind the clouds and he got his bearings. The world outside the valley was largely a mystery to him. What little he knew came from the tales of the traveling fur-traders and the occasional pack of raiders. All of them had come from the south, so South he went.
He only stopped to look back as he came to the very edge of the valley. He could no longer see his village. The great northern forest was old, covered in a blanket of white and possessed an ancient grandeur. But the wide world stretched out before him was so much more dangerous and strange. He didn’t dare to turn back and go home with some made-up story about having a vision—the old shaman was very good at separating the liars from the truth tellers. So he walked out of the valley and into the wide world.
He walked for days, slept in burrows, and hunted small game. He saw no signs of human life and wondered if by some strange accident he hadn’t walked into the world but instead some uncharted wilderness that knew nothing of the beast called Man. Time passed before him as though he were a beast, moving to follow the prey and to escape the bitter cold. The trees were unfamiliar to him, but he kept his chartered course, and each day moved a little further south.
It was after some time that he realized he was being hunted. He hadn’t seen his pursuer, but as the snow fell around him a creeping chill ran up his spine and through ancient instincts long forgotten by other men he knew he was being hunted. He could feel its presence as he trudged through the cold. It watched him as he ate and while he slept, waiting, biding its time.
He got a look at it when he stopped by a stream. He’d come far enough south that the winter snows were starting to melt, and the stream ran clear and cold banked by high rocks. He found a passage between the rocks and knelt at the stream’s edge where he scooped up handfuls of water.
As he knelt there he saw a reflection in the water—a great tiger with a pelt of black stripes on white watched him from atop the rocks on the other side. He looked up and it was gone. He stood and let his senses take in the forest. The breeze rustled the branches of evergreens and shadows moved slowly with the sunlight, but the tiger could not be seen or heard.
He calmed his breathing and continued on his way but moved with more speed and purpose. He caught glimpses of it out of the corner of his eyes. It would flash between trees on his right and disappear only to be seen again darting between the bushes on his left. He heard its snarl as if from far away but looked ahead to see it only a few yards in front of him, waiting.
He turned and ran into a grove of twisted, fallen trees. His heart hammered in his chest and his legs burned but fear and the rush of the hunt spurred him on. The tiger was circling him, trying to drive him into a trap before it sprung for the kill.
He laughed at himself and stopped in the center of the grove. The trees around him were warped by winters of heavy ice so that their great trunks bent near parallel with the ground and their branches jutted out like the spokes of a wheel.
With a single great effort he leapt and grabbed a thick branch, and hauled himself up onto one of the bent trees. He had no bow or spear, but he didn’t care. He climbed further into the tangled branches of the trees until he found a large branch to perch on, and then he waited. The stillness grew into a pressure that seemed to fill the entire grove as he waited. But he would not move or make a sound until the tiger came for him.
He waited for hours while clouds moved in over the sun and snow began to fall, and finally as twilight approached the tiger entered the grove. He could hardly separate its sleek form from the play of the shadows across the snow, but for its great blue eyes. They were the color of an ice-covered lake in winter.
It strode out into the center of the grove and looked up at him. He felt his heart pause as the hunters gazed into each other. He knew this was no ordinary beast, but now he could see its cunning and wisdom buried deep in its primal soul. It had been waiting for him, and now they would test each other.
It moved across the grove and hopped onto a tree trunk and began to stalk towards him. It swiftly leapt from trunk to trunk with sure-footed grace. He watched its powerful muscles roil beneath the sleek hide as it drew closer to him.
Suddenly he acted. He leapt from branch to branch and began to lead the tiger higher and higher on a great chase through the web of branches and intertwining trunks. Slick ice and snow did not impede either of them in their chase. Fire burned in their lungs and their hearts beat in rhythm to their leaps and bounds.
Finally the tiger came around as he climbed onto a wide trunk and landed in front of him. Their breath steamed in the air as they stared at each other and every muscle in their bodies tensed. The light shifted between flakes of falling snow, and the bloody twilight air seemed to throw their silhouettes out across the grove.
Then they leapt at each other and clashed. Claws tore through flesh and cries of pain and the smell of blood filled the air. In one brief moment the world was violence, and when it was over Blue opened his eyes and realized his tiger claws were shoved into the beast’s heart.
The scent of its blood filled his head and following a compulsion he didn’t understand as a man, but felt as ancient as the land; he twisted his claws and tore open the tiger’s chest. He savagely cut out its heart and as the last of its lifeblood pumped through it he lifted it over his open mouth and squeezed the steaming gore into his throat and drank it down.
He climbed down from the branches as a strange feeling overtook him. He felt more alive than ever. He looked up and saw the full moon break through the clouds, and as if possessed by the tiger’s spirit he threw his head back and roared at it.
A savage change had come over him. His blood charged through his veins and the strength carried in it felt heady like the smoke from a shaman’s lodge. He could feel the wind through his hair and the drop of each snowflake on his skin. He was part of the night and in this moment he felt as though he would fight the entire world.
***
At dawn he awoke and realized that he’d slept in the grove. He stood and as the previous evening’s events came back to him he wondered if it had been a strange, twisted dream or some kind of vision. Then blood dripped onto his cheek. He looked up and saw that the ravens were already picking at the tiger’s corpse. It had not been a dream.
He decided to keep walking. Some drive filled him now to go out into the world. As he loped through the forest he could feel a new strength in his limbs. He leapt from stone to stone and raced between the trees with speed he didn’t know he was capable of. The air filling his lungs was sweeter than any he’d breathed before and he shouted with exultation.
He continued walking for several more days and nights, until one day he stood on a hilltop and could see the edge of the forest. And there was smoke. He raced through the trees, his heart’s blood pumping through his limbs, and when he came to the edge he looked down. On the plain below him was a village in flames.
The sound of battle had reached him long before but now he could see that it was under attack from raiders. Women and children ran screaming from burning huts only to be cut down by arrows while the men tried to fight them off with spears. The raiders laughed and struck them down with sabers and arrows.
It was not his fight. But the screams and flames make his blood rush and the call of battle filled his mind. He leapt down the hillside and ran towards the village. Villagers who saw him assumed he was one of the raiders and turned to flee.
A raider spotted him as he cleared the village fence in a single leap and landed beside a burning house. The man raised his sword and with a ferocious yell charged him. Blue ducked beneath the first sword swing with ease and tore his tiger claws across the man’s gut. Gore spilled out of his belly and he collapsed beside the hut.
The scent of death and the rush of the kill surged through him. He turned at the sounds of screams and ran towards them. Two of the bandits were trying to hold a woman down to CENSORED her in the middle of the street. Blue leapt onto one’s back and tore his claws across the man’s throat. The woman scrambled away as the other raider forgot her and picked up his sword to face Blue.
They circled each other for only a moment, and Blue could see the fear in the man’s eyes when he looked at him. The raider struck two weak jabs at him, and he moved easily around the blade to shove his claws into the man’s gut and tore at him. When he was dead he flung the gore from his claws and looked about for more foes.
Villagers were starting to notice this strange man among them who fought like a tiger. They cried for help, for salvation. He knew little of salvation. The fight was what drove him on. He could feel the tiger’s spirit inside of him. It smelled fresh blood and wanted more.
He ran and found the largest group of raiders near the center of the village trying to kill as many peasants as they could. He leapt over their heads and landed in the middle of the raiders snarling and tearing. His claws tore through their armor and scraped the bone beneath the flesh. Two raiders were down instantly before the others knew what was happening and backed away.
They spread out and circled him. He growled and watched them with the look of a raging tiger in his eyes. They jabbed at him with their blades and he moved gracefully between their blows before he tore his claws across their face and necks. In a blur of action three more went down. One struck from behind and cut a gash across his back. He snarled and whirled around, and as he did so he felt a surge of power move through him. When his claws came down they struck the raider with such force that his head was torn off his body and went rolling through the dirt.
A roar filled the air and the raiders grinned and backed away. Blue flexed his fingers and felt his muscles burn. He felt ready for anything they could bring to bear. The roar came again, and then a huge figure crashed through one of the huts and stood before him.
It was a hideous amalgam of man and beast, standing at least ten feet tall. Goat legs supported its broad, black-furred torso and a wolf’s head topped its body. A pair of horns curved over its brow. It carried a huge hammer in its hands and wore patchwork pieces of metal and leather for armor. It looked at Blue with yellow eyes and screamed at him.
The raiders backed away as the ogre stepped from the rubble of the hut and lifted its hammer over its head. Blue pulled his lips back over his teeth and snarled. As the hammer came down he darted forward and leapt on the ogre’s leg. He dug his claws into its flesh and it roared with pain.
A single strong kick sent him flying across the village square and he hit a wooden post. It snapped in half under his weight and he slid along the ground. The world was spinning when he opened his eyes and he felt blood running down the side of his face. He shifted his weight and felt a stab of pain in his side—two of his ribs were broken.
He heard the raiders laughing and the ogre snarled and stomped towards him. It lazily twirled the hammer between its hands as it was in no hurry to finish the job. He looked up through blurry vision and saw the twisted smile on its snout.
Something deep inside of him growled, and he remembered the heat of the tiger’s breath on his face and felt its blood flowing through his veins. As the ogre raised its hammer to strike the killing blow he leapt to his feet and nimbly stepped aside as it came crashing down and cracked the earth.
The ogre snarled and suddenly balked. The raiders’ eyes filled with fear as Blue felt the tiger’s power surge through his body. A sliver glow came off his skin and he felt himself growing stronger. His muscles stretched and warped as his body grew. White fur marked with black stripes sprouted over his skin. His weapons popped off his hands and large, heavy talons sprouted from his fingertips. The shape he now wore was part man and part beast, but the strength that filled him was immeasurable. He pulled his lips back over feline fangs and roared.
The ogre snarled and picked up his hammer to swing it again. Blue ducked beneath the hammer’s blow and pounced on the ogre. His talons slid easily through its flesh and hot blood spilled out across the ground. The ogre screamed and flailed as it tried to beat him off. He ignored its fists and rent his claws up across its chest and tore through its throat. It gave hoarse, pathetic cries as it fell back.
The raiders stood in stunned silence as Blue rose off his dead opponent and threw his head back to roar. Two raiders mad with fear and bloodlust charged him and with a single swipe Blue’s talons tore them in half. The other raiders turned and ran.
Blue felt his body shrink and change back to his human form, but the silver glow remained. He felt power like he’d never known before moving through him. His wounds ached, but were closed and now seemed as little more than scratches and bruises.
The villagers slowly came out of hiding and seeing the boy standing over the dead bodies of their enemies came to the obvious conclusion. They cheered him and approached him with reverence and calls for mercy and thanks for saving their village. Blue was too stunned with everything that had happened to argue or try to convince them otherwise.
As night fell, and the villagers had buried their dead and begun reconstructing their homes, Blue sat on the edge of the village and stared at the moon rising over his head. The glow had left his skin, but it reminded him now of the moon’s own shining brilliance.
Suddenly his senses warned him that he was not alone. He leapt to his feet and turned—he could feel the claws just beneath his skin ready to emerge and tear through new flesh. Standing on the forest’s edge was a tall, powerfully built stranger covered in strange silver tattoos that shined in the moonlight.
The stranger raised a hand and bade him peace. He called him brother, and said that they were both sons of Luna. He asked him to walk with him, and everything would be made clear. Then he turned and disappeared back into the forest.
Blue looked back at the villagers. The fresh graves of their dead were nearby, and the bodies of their enemies were now being burned in the center of the village as a celebration of his victory. He could hear singing and laughter. But never before did he feel so distant and strange to such sights and sounds.
He turned and followed the stranger into the night, and they walked through moonlit glades, and talked of the gods and of his destiny.
Two Years Later
No one saw him as he watched from the thickly wooded hill.
Tepet Kanu, Righteous Arm of the Everlasting Pillar, hefted his impressive testubo over his shoulder. It was a solid shaft of white jade, covered in hexagonal knobs sharpened to fine points. Prayers to the Immaculate Dragon Pasiap fit between the knobs and the hilt was wrapped in animal skin. A fine weapon for an Immaculate monk, to be sure.
His white jade armor glistened in the northern sunlight and he stood tall and proud. At his back was his sworn brotherhood, each one a distinguished member of the Wyld Hunt. With them was almost a full scale of legionnaires. The banner of the Realm and the Wyld Hunt fluttered and snapped in the breeze. It was truly a fine day to wipe such a dark stain from the face of Creation, he reflected.
For only fifty yards ahead lay the small, stick and mud village of the barbarians that dared to harbor a vile, monsterous Anathema. The village’s warriors, or what passed for such amongst the low-bred rabble, were massed at its gate. They huddled behind wooden barriers for cover. Most of them were armed only with bows or spears. Only a handful carried an axe or a sword.
“Look at them,” said one of his companions, Ledaal Ourobo. “Huddled like rats.” She caressed the edge of her black daiklave and Kanu recognized the hungry look in her eyes. A child of Danaa’d with no sense of patience could be… disturbing to the less enlightened.
He turned to the third member of the brotherhood, Quiet Inferno.
“Give them a taste of what they will suffer for their heresy.”
The Fire Aspect obediently knocked an arrow on his red jade powerbow and took aim. There was a blur of motion and what had seemed to be one shot was actually many. A volley of burning arrows hit the barricades and set them alight. The villagers shrieked and backed away. They knocked a couple of the barricades down in their scrambling.
The legionnaires howled with laughter. Quiet Inferno readied another arrow and took aim at a youth among the villagers who’d been thrown to the ground in the panic. The boy was furiously back peddling along the ground like a frightened squirrel. The Dynast smiled a little before the tip of his arrow lit up and he released it.
“Enough!” The sudden voice cracked like thunder and there was a golden flash of light. Sky Girl stood over the youth and the fiery arrow lay shattered in the dirt at her feet. Armed with her golden direlance, she strode forward to the head head of the rabble.
She couldn’t have been more than twenty, yet she carried herself with the grace and self-assurance that Kanu had only seen in his Immaculate elders. Her long, dark hair flowed down to her back and her face was a flawless, alabaster beauty. Her clothes of red and gold silk fluttered slightly in the breeze. The weapon she carried was longer than she was tall, but she whirled it over her head with astonishing grace.
Kanu quietly muttered a prayer to Pasiap and remembered his studies. “Do not be seduced by their beauty.”
When she spoke her voice carried a weight and power that couldn’t possibly be held in such a small and delicate frame. “Leave these people alone. I’m the one you’ve come for.”
He glared at her. “Listen, demon-witch. When we wipe your stain from Creation we will destroy with it all those miserable souls you have damned!”
She shouted, “They’ve done nothing wrong!”
“Except give their weak hearts up to an Anathema’s embrace!” He whirled the goremaul around and leveled it at her. “Prepare to be sent back to your dark gods, you—!” Something stopped his words dead.
Sky Girl turned to look and her breath left her, and she felt the world fall away beneath her. A figure had appeared from the forest’s edge and now strode closer to the center of the conflict. As he passed the villagers stopped and stared with awe.
It was Blue, the young man who had left their village those two long winters ago, but not as they remembered him. He looked stronger, and more imposing. His face hadn’t aged a day but was set with the grim gaze of a seasoned warrior. He wore a buff jacket dyed blue and reinforced with plates of moonsilver, and left it unbuttoned at the chest to display the silver tattoos covering his skin.
He moved with the grace of a hunting cat, and his eyes had the look of a hungry tiger. His hair had turned shock white and his body was solid, supple muscle. The Wyld Hunt stood very still, as though one of Creation’s foremost predators had entered their midst and they dreaded drawing his attention.
Blue walked forward until he stood between them and Sky Girl, and stopped. He faced them and Tepet Kanu felt an icy chill grip his gut as he looked into those fearsome eyes.
He spoke clearly and plainly. “The woman and the village are under my protection. Try to harm them and I’ll kill you.”
The surety with which he spoke made Kanu grind his teeth with anger. “Do you know who you’re dealing with, boy? The Wyld Hunt will not be deterred by some savage Lunar Anathema! I’ll drape your skin over my standard!”
Blue spread his feet to put one leg forward and one back, and raised his fists. “Have it your way.”
Kanu’s companions readied their weapons and stopped when he raised his hand. “No. He’s mine.” He roared and charged. His goremaul spun over his head leaving a trail of blazing white.
Blue stood his ground until the last second. When the goremaul would have crushed him in a single blow he deftly stepped back and the Immaculate’s weapon smashed the ground like a falling boulder. He moved again as Kanu lifted up, spraying chunks of dirt through the air, and swung it around again.
“Hold still, damn you!” His body burned with essence as he swung the weapon back around only to find that his opponent was too fast to be hit. The goremaul hit the ground again and too late Kanu realized he’d overextended his reach.
But instead of a blow from a fist, he watched as Blue’s body warped and flowed like quicksilver. It changed shape from a man into some horrible amalgam of man and beast. With a tiger’s head and fur atop a more powerful body and hands ending in wicked, glittering silver claws, Blue turned to face his opponent. He roared and swung his scythe-like claws.
White and silver essence flashed and Kanu heard his armor crack. The blow lifted him off the ground and he landed on his back several yards away. Creation was spinning around him. Ourobo raised her daiklave and screamed, “Kill them!”
The Wyld Hunt surged forward. Blue roared at them—several turned and ran. He grabbed Tepet Kanu by his feet and lifted the Immaculate over his head. He swung him around and then hurled him at the legionnaires. He heard Kanu scream before he smashed into his own troops and they scattered like flies off a carcass.
Ourobo leapt forward with her daiklave lifted over her head and a sudden clash of steel found her face-to-face with Sky-Girl. She saw the golden disk burning on the girl’s forehead and felt a temor of doubt before being shoved back. Sky-Girl whirled her direlance around and a sudden cascade of golden blows rained down the Terrestrial. Ourobo staggered back under the assault and felt several blows slam into her armor.
Quiet Inferno readied his arrows as the Lunar charged at him. He sent one burning arrow towards the beastman and it burst into the shape of a fiery dragon with it mouth open in a mute roar. Blue twisted around the shot with fluid grace and his anima of silver-blue streamed behind him as he reached the Dragon-Blooded archer and slashed at him. Blood and flame flew through the air as Quiet Inferno was rent across his body and tumbled into the grass.
Kanu had gotten back to his feet and looked around. His troops were scattered and simple barbarians armed with sticks and rocks were taking down the few that remained. He saw Ourobo on the loosing end of a duel with the golden Anathema. He turned and roared with rage when he saw the Lunar standing over Quiet Inferno, its claws stained with his sworn brother’s blood.
He charged and screamed, “Damn you!” He’d taken the Lunar by surprise and slammed his fists into the monster’s back. “You killed my brother!” He scored another hit. “I’ll see you in hell!”
He clasped his hands together to bring them down on the monster, when suddenly they stopped, caught in Blue’s grasp. He held the Immaculate’s strength back with one hand and glared at him with cold, ice blue eyes.
He said in a very human voice, “I don’t think so,” and slashed at him again. His claws ripped through the jade armor like it was paper and Kanu looked down to see his blood staining the grass.
Kanu fell to his knees as he felt his body going cold. “But I… am righteous. Blessed. Immaculate.”
The devil-tiger looked him over and shook his head. “No. You just talk too much.” He turned away from him and left him to flop over and bleed into the earth.
Sky-Girl knocked the weapon from her opponent’s grasp and leveled the edge of her blade against the other girl’s throat. “Yield.”
Ourobo lifted her chin and held her arms wide. “I will not beg for mercy from your kind.”
“I don’t expect you to.” She whirled the spear around and slammed the blunt haft against her head and knocked her to the ground.
Ourobo was dazed for a second, and looked up at the girl with hatred churning in her eyes, but knew she was powerless to do anything against this creature. But why didn’t it just kill her?
“Take whatever men you have left and leave, and don’t come back. If you do, the Sun help me, I won’t be as merciful.” She turned her back to her.
Ourobo scrambled to her feet and called the retreat, leaving her dead comrades where they lay.
Sky-Girl looked and saw Blue change back from the beastman into the man she knew. She ran to him and leapt with her arms outstretched, crying for joy. He caught her and hugged her tightly.
“I knew you weren’t dead. I knew it in my heart.”
“I told you I’d come back.” He gently held her head and kissed her.
Suddenly the villagers surrounded them, and their names were being chanted over their heads. They sang praises to the Sun and to Luna, and tried to lift them up on their shoulders.
Blue felt a sense of peace that he’d thought was just a distant memory, and knew that the Devil Tiger had come home, but his legend was just beginning.
The End... for now.
Tags: Exalted Story Fanfic Writing
