Darn hippies - Samheen 27th (Late MT) - Ardal

[Brytan]

Samheen 27th - Late Morningtide

Valarian, White Mist and Sleepy Head.

Gannas Hawkeye was the shaman of the Goldenback tribe. Every so often, when a group of kit showed they had sufficient promise to start their trials, a festival of Awakening would be organised to start them off on their adventure and their road to become part of the awakened. It was his task to lead the ceremony, but this yahr, due to the recent upheaval, he hadn't had sufficient time to prepare.

"Hrm. To think that I of all should lack preparation. Yahren of my life this is costing me. I hope Oni picks the right magpie for the job." Pacing through his tent, a cauldron brewing on a large fire, a wooden table cluttered with all sorts of herbs, tools and containers he looked into the bubbling concoction which had been stewing there for tides. "Just the final ingredients and it'll be done..."

Ardal found the village was all setting up for the festival as he arrived back from the Festival Grounds. Left and right he could see people preparing food, decorations and the traditional weapons used in the Awakening ceremony. The last time a festival was held had been over fifteen yahren ago so everyone was looking forward to Eveningtide when the celebrations would commence.

"Hey Ardal! You back here aswell? You just missed Niamh, she left for the woods to hunt. What're you upto? Oh, come on, tell me, tell me, tell me!"

Rianna, a youngster, barely in her teens came up to Ardal and tugged on his kanthar. Ardal couldn't remember the last time he had seen her sad and even with the recent fear that had taken a foothold in the minds of some of the older villagers, Rianna was her own upbeat self as usual.

"You preparing for the festival huh? I can't wait to come of age and awaken. Sleeping is boring. What are you doing? Something exiting right? I can tell. Oh please can I help? Please, please, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease..."

[Guest]

Ardal walked at a brisk pace back to village, his arms relaxed and dangling by his sides. The smell of the fresh air, the sight of the great blue sky, and the feel of the grass touching his toes when it peaked over his sandals almost made him forget the recent troubles on the island and the incident with Niamh before. He reached the village in due time and saw that the others were busy preparing the Festival. Such was their interest that it seemed that some of them were even more excited about it than the participating kits.

As Ardal entered the village, his eyes fell upon Rianna as she approached him. The elder kit sighed to himself. He was not a sluggish personality, but Rianna's upbeat attitude sometimes got under his skin. He bore no ill will towards her, however. She was still rather young and inexperienced. He looked down at the girl when she tugged on his kanthar, enduring her chatter with a slight grimace upon his face.

"Alright, Rianna, don't whine!" Ardal chastised. "Oni sent me to gather some plants. I doubt that you will find that very exciting. Why don't you go help the others with the decorations?" he continued.

Ardal looked up and over at his tent. He hardly needed a weapon as much as Eidelon and Niamh, but one never knew what one might find in the forest. The last thing he needed was to be mauled by a wolf on whose territory he had stumbled just hours before his awakening. He glanced down at Rianna once more, then left her and went to his tent. Once inside, he retrieved his staff. As he left, he looked over his shoulder at the old bow and quiver in the corner of his dwelling. Every time he saw them, he was reminded that he should learn how to use them. However, there wasn't any time for that at the present moment. Ardal looked forward once again and pushed his tent flap aside as he stepped out. In front of his tent, he leaned on his staff as he searched his memory for the common locations of the plants he required.

[Brytan]

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawh, can I please help? Decorating is such a bore. I could carry stuff for you, I'm really strong and fast." Rianna pouted and oogled Ardal with her big, yellow feline eyes.

"Fine, I'll go do the boring decorating stuff." She didn't sound dissapointed or angry, more like stating a basic fact. She raced off through the village, towards several other children weaving beads. She hopped over them agily and disappeared between a few tents. The children who were busy didn't even react to Rianna racing through the village. They were used to her speeding around.

Flickers later, as Ardal left his tent and leaned on his staff he tried to recall where to find the herbs Oni had requested. Valerian would be easily found, as the green flowered plant grew abundantly around the edges of Gnilwoh forest. Sleepy Head was known to grow in the Goldenback Fields, it's yellow flowers lending it's colour to the fields which gave name to the area. White Mist would most likely be the hardest herb to find. It grew in rocky areas, sometimes found near the ancient burial mounds deep within the Gnilwoh Forest, or in the Skymyst mountains.

All in all it would be quite a hike.

[Guest]

Ardal scratched his chin absent-mindedly as he tried to decide which plant to retrieve first. The one that grew closest by was Valerian, so he thought that would be the best with which to start.

Another thought soon came to the kit's mind. Oni had not specified how much of each plant she needed. She would obviously be needing more than a single sample of each if they were be used for the Festival. They would be difficult to carry in his hands, especially considering that one hand would be occupied by his staff. Ardal rubbed the back of his neck as the thought occurred to him. He turned back around and re-entered his tent. Looking around, he spotted a small satchel lying wrinkled on the floor. It was a little dirty, as he had used it before when collecting plant samples. He stepped over to it and bent over to pick the bag up. As he stood, he shook it out before sliding the shoulder strap onto his left shoulder. He reached forward with his staff to push aside the tent flap before stepping out once again.

Ardal looked around once more at the others as he stood outside. It seemed a pity that the Festival should have to be overshadowed by the island's troubles. Still, one had to carry on. With this in mind, he looked to the forest and began walking.

[Brytan]

Ardal began his walk towards the woods. From the village a well trodden path led into Gnilwoh forest, used often by the men and women who tended to the Goldenback Fields to the north. The path made it's way through the woods, curving and winding it's way around the ancient trees, snaking along the brook which flowed through large sections of the forest towards the depths of Paw Lake. The weather was good. Had it not been for the particularly nasty events of the dawn the island seemed totally serene.

[hr][/hr]
"But, if that is so. What will happen?"

"I do not know, but the damage will be incomprehensible."

The Akanthan of the tribe paced through his home, listening to the reports from the Eyes whom had just returned from their scouting mission through Ursa's Heart.

"We must inform the people Gannas, we must warn them of the inevitable."

"Yes, we should. But the trials, they have started. Oni and Petran have already taken the kit out to prepare for the festival."

"Then we must get them back to the village now, the wild is unsafe. If they trail too close to Skymyst who knows what might happen?"

A worried frown appeared on the otherwise powerfull and trouble-free features of the Akanthan.

"Bring them back."

[hr][/hr]

The forest's creatures did not seem to notice any of the worries in the Akanthan's hut. As Ardal progressed the forest grew denser and darker, passing alongside the dark heart of Gnilwoh, the path traced the western edges of the forest to make it's way to the fields. He estimated a mark or less to reach the forest's far edge to continue his search for the herbs.

Somewhere in the distance, vague sounds of drums could be heard.

[Guest]

Ardal walked at a relaxed pace along the path, holding his staff horizontally in one hand at the side of his body. He rubbed his toes against his sandals and wished that he was near a stream so that he could wash his feet. He had always hated the feeling of dirt mixed with sweat on his skin.

Ardal looked into the forest and observed the various plants and animals within as he passed. He wondered to himself if the animals had sensed the island's troubles, for they had surely felt the quakes. Perhaps in some way the plants could even feel such disturbances.

He soon began to hear the sound of beating drums in the distance. At first, he thought that he was imagining it. As he continued, however, he realized that the sounds were definitely there. He slowed as he wondered where the sounds originated, but then picked up the pace again and continued on his way.

OOC: Just to clarify, should the drums mean anything to Ardal?

[Brytan]

The sun moved in the sky as it had done for countless ages. Peering over the empires in the east, gazing out late during the day over the shores of the western kingdoms, passing the mysterious Seven Isles on it's way. It had seen countless things. Wars waged, peace treaties signed. Beaming in through windows untold it had lit up countless rooms where people slept, waking them to the task at hand. It had made countless couples happy as it disappeared behind the horizon to lend them the shadows which followed for them to ensue in their courtship and love making.

This day was different however, the lands were not as they were. For countless yahren had it passed over the island floating peacefully close to the clouds. It had watched generations of Kanthrop grow up and leave as they came of age, it had even seen the first generation come to the island and most likely only the sun knew their most prized secrets, having witnessed them first hand. But now, as the sun rose up to it's highest point it could see change in the making. The island which had hovered peacefully below him, above the mystical island of Pan had now sunk down, veering off heavily to the western shores of the island below, dropping segments off it's hard rocky outer shell as it tumbled into the depths.

The sun was the onlooker of the most tragic of events and the most blissfull. Now, it watched the kanthrop on their island prepare for the festival of their most recent generation of kit to be awakened. It watched Niamh stalk the boar the sun had seen slip into it's den but burns earlier. It watched Ardal make his way through the forest, browsing the plantlife as if shopping a market square for the proper herbs. It watched Eidolon and Catherine go about their assigned chores around the village. The sun watched the drums in the village roll, a warning for what was about to happen for all those on the island.

But it was too late...

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

A deep rumble gripped the island, shaking it's foundations to the core. Beyond any tremor the kanthrop had felt before. Wildlife wimpered and hid. Birds flew up from their nests. The drums in the village went silent as the deep ominous terror shook the very core of the stone mass making up the flying isle.

BWAM!!!

A terrible noise, like an explosion of rock gripped the entire isle as it impacted on the island below. Splicing the waters around the coast of Pan's Isle in a massive tidal wave, drilling it's pointed edge into the ground making up the pristine western shores. The island shook, cracked and broke. Everywhere enormous shards of rock shot up from the ground like needles being stuck upward through a pincushion, the ground spliced and ruptured as the mountains on the eastern border of the isle crumbled and disappeared in massive clouds of dust and gravel. The pressure from the collapse swept the dust upward in a vortex of sand, sweeping over Ursa Etheria like a cover, a blanket of destruction.

Everywhere trees fell as the surface of the island sank and rose at will, like the ripples of the ocean would swallow a swimmer so were trees, animals and kanthrop alike engulfed in an ocean of rock and insanity. The four kit felt their Inner Animals surge within them, not in anger but in a massive panic attack. All their instincts shouted "RUN", but there was no where to go. The village of tents and cabins crumbled before the eyes of their onlookers, the forest screamed and the fields wept as all were torn asunder in a terrible rage of sound and dust.

The Etherial Isle was no longer Etherial...

[Guest]

As the first massive rumble came, Ardal gripped his staff and leaned on it to keep his footing. The feeling of the ground under him made him almost sure that the island was about to fall apart completely and crash piece by piece into the ocean below. His Inner Animal screamed within him, urging him to flee. There was nowhere to go, but he suddenly felt the urge to get away from the trees. If the island remained intact, he might still have a chance if he wasn't crushed by falling trees. He turned as best he could and started to run away from the forest, but he didn't get far before he felt the crashing under him and tumbled to the grass.

Ardal shut his eyes as chaos broke around him. He was certain that the noise would deafen him. His hands gripped the grass below him. His Inner Animal continued to rage, making the kit feel as if his mind was about to be ripped apart. He shut his eyes even tighter, somehow feeling that he could prevent everything from being real if he didn't see it. All he could do was wait, wondering if he would wake up in the spirit world.

[Brytan]

Samheen 27th - Tradetide

The noise stopped. The earth stopped moving and the dust settled eventually. Were Ardal to open his eyes he would find out he had been very fortunate to fall when he did, for several large trees had been uprooted and fallen over, covering him with only centimeters to spare. Several fallen branches and rocks had bruised him, but no permanent damage appeared to have been done.

From his low vantagepoint the world was in shambles. The forest around him looked like it had been touched by the Mother's wrath, crushed and broken by massive amounts of rock sticking out of the ground, some sections of the island surface having been pushed up entirely to form plateaus meters up into the air, trees still standing on top.

The brook which ran through the forest still sounded in the background somewhere, but it's original bedding was shredded and the water was already seeking a new route to it's lowest point.

Somewhere above him a few birds dared a carefull chirp in the remaining trees, those that had withstood the earthquake. It was almost impossible to see very far because there was still dust lingering in the air between the trees.

The tremors had come to a complete stop.

The eagle had landed...

[Guest]

When the tremors had stopped, Ardal opened his eyes and starred blankly at the grass. He was completely still, vaguely aware of the sound of his breathing. He was afraid to look at the damage, but he knew that he had no choice.

He turned over and sat up. He immediately spotted the fallen trees nearby. He knew that he was very lucky that he had not been crushed, but that knowledge did not do much to cheer him. The kit brushed his black hair away from his eyes before he looked around to survey the destruction. His mouth fell open slightly. He stopped breathing for a moment, though he as not aware of it.

Ardal felt tears forming in his eyes. He had not cried since he was a very small boy. He damned himself in his own mind for the show of weakness, but he could not stop the tears. His home had been destroyed, and for no reason that he knew. For a few moments, he just sat and looked at the ground, tears falling onto the grass below. He was unsure of whether he felt more anger or sadness.

Eventually, he forced himself to get to his feet. He had started to feel numb. He looked around for his staff, his eyes blank with shock. After retrieving his weapon, he started to walk back to the village, his heart empty.

[Brytan]

The ground was steady, but the air was heavy and laden with dust. It was hard to breathe and harder even to see as Ardal started to walk in the supposed direction of the village. The area was entirely different, landmarks were either wiped clean from the face of the earth, or replaced by spires and pinnacles of rock, jutting out through the ground.

As he walked, sounds started to return to the forest. The wind picked up and carried with it the scent of salt and sea, a scent Ardal had never before smelled. Several birds dared a carefull chirp, as somewhere in what remained of the woods trees were still falling over, the earth having stopped moving, but they still settling in, having been caught in branches or vines of other trees.

How long it took exactly was hard to tell. Burns, marks? But at some point the treecover lessened and Ardal could see a bit more clearly across the field where once the village had stood. Voices of familiar kanthrop sounded, and he could see shapes moving through the dust, looking, hunting.

He was home, but home was gone.

OOC: Feel free to jump into other threads at your own discretion, fitting your characters actions.

[Brytan]

Thread locked and skilled.

Awarded:

Inner Animal + *
Conversation (basic)