A Wild Prayer (Pax, Chyril 27, late TT)

[Guido Cercatoro]

As Craghley suspected, it was impossible to discover anything more about the berries without closer inspection. However, it was now clear that the stag was slowly consuming the berries and few now remained. Both Vernon and Baltimus were ontent to merely observe the events in the small clearing.

The hunters had been extremely fortunate for the slight breeze that penetrated the forest blew across the clearing. There was little chance that the stag would smell the newcomers. The only danger of detection would be any sudden noise. If Craghley could creep a little closer without detection, he would have an easy shot with his spear into the rear of the animal. Not a noble kill perhaps, but a potentially highly effective strategy.

[Craghley]

Craghley nodded to himself in satisfaction. And yet, he felt uneasy about the task he had set himself; in his time on the farm any butchering had mostly been left to his brothers, while he had, for the most part, cared for the animals. Perhaps it was also his Adhiel parentage which frowned upon sporting for this creature when food was readily available at camp. With a deep breath Craghley gently raised himself and moved, with as much care as he could muster, along the clearing towards the stag.
With each step he eased his boots down softly upon grass, avoiding the crunch of sand or fallen debris from the trees. When the wind whistled stronger he quickened his pace ever so slightly, and should it lapse altogether he would stand stock still for fear of alerting his prey. He moved closer...

[Guido Cercatoro]

The hunter moved slowly and carefully towards his prey, the stag still unaware of his presence. He was now within striking distance of the beast which had demolished all but a few of the berries. There was now no impediment to striking at the rear of the beast but it might need to be done quickly, lest the beast depart once it had finished its meal.

This close to the stag, Craghley could see that it was a proud-looking stag with long, elegant antlers. It had a smooth, well kept coat and an unsual dappled pattern on its legs.

[Craghley]

This close to the stag, Craghley could see that it was a proud-looking stag with long, elegant antlers. It had a smooth, well kept coat and an unsual dappled pattern on its legs.

These attributes captured Craghley for a flicker in simple appreciation. But he shook his head. On his approach to the beast he had reconciled his doubts. If he could not take the life of this animal at possibly the only available opening, especially in offering to his Goddess, how could he strike his enemies down? The animal would go into the embrace of the Mother. A better fate for one's spirit that many others, Craghley presumed.

For a flicker his spear hovered in the air as Craghley paused, the slashed down to cripple the stags' hind quarters. A stab in the flank might leave it wounded but able to flee; slashing the tendons in the back leg would hopefully leave it unable to gallop at such a pace, and deny it the a powerful leaping start to its' escape. He hoped.

[Guido Cercatoro]

Craghley's plan worked perfectly. The slashing spear carved into the tendons on the back of the beast's leg. The proud beast struggled for a flicker to stay on its feet but then the leg collapsed and its rear end fell to the floor.

The stag's head turned to gaze at the hunter. A pair of large, sad eyes regarded Craghley for a brief moment before the beast turned to nibble the remaining berries, as if it was determined to have one last meal before its impending demise.

A brief, warm breeze blew through the clearing as if the forest itself had given a quiet, mournful sigh.

"Best finish it," came the voice of the giant woodsman. "Shouldn't leave such a beast in pain."

[Craghley]

Craghley knelt by the stag, laying the spear flat upon the grass his knife whispered a pure, high note as he drew it from its' sheath. Craghley listened to the wind, understanding its' melancholy. He could not have held the gaze of the animal for long. But he let it take another mouthful while he wondered how best to take its life with the least fuss, mess, or pain.

Unwilling to come too close to its teeth, he moved swiftly. The dagger hovered, tracking along the stag's spine and stopping just at the hollow in the skull. Craghley angled it with care and struck with as much force as he could muster, to drive the dagger through the opening of the skull and into the brain.


(ooc: just fixed some grammatical errors)

[Guido Cercatoro]

The stag continued eating the berries and finished the last of them before Craghley’s knife entered its skull. The beast gave a small murmur before falling silent. A few drops of blood slithered down the stag's hide and landed on the small bush that was now barren of the berries. As he saw the blood, the hunter was reminded of the blood of the Hunt nourishing the land and the words of the Mother that had followed. And, as the blood hit the leaves of the bush a vision flashed before his eyes…

...the blood of the stag nourishing the bush and berries growing once again in a cycle of birth and rebirth…

...the eyes of a young stag gazing at the hunter from the edge of the forest….

As the vision cleared, Craghley thought he saw the ghost of a quick movement at the edge of the clearing, perhaps even the glimpse of a beast…..and before him, the leaves of the bush were now stained dark red and the first signs of a new crop of berries were on the bush…

Vernon was suddenly at his side, a smile on his face. “You have been granted a rare thing,” was all he said, before bending down to inspect the kill.

“A fine kill,” said the halfling. “The meat goes well with ale, I always find.”

[Craghley]

Rivulets of blood shifted upon Craghley's dagger to drip down to the earth in the time he knelt by the dead stag. Then the vision cleared, leaving him little wiser as to what had just happened but not untouched by some meaning of what he saw, and how he saw it. Craghley slowly stood himself up once Vernon had approached and walked over to the tree. Using the foliage he wiped down the knife and spear tip, rinsed them with a little water from his skin, then dried them off as best he could with the leaves again. All the while he examined the new berries, matching them to his memory of the ones the stag had eaten.

Vernon was suddenly at his side, a smile on his face. “You have been granted a rare thing,” was all he said, before bending down to inspect the kill.

"P'raps so... how dae ye mean, though?"

He offered Baltimus a nod of agreement to the halflings statement, then looked back to Vernon. Craghley was curious as to what the other two had witnessed when he'd had those visions... or if the woodsman was merely referring to the kill. Craghley had yet to conclude what it was he himself had seen, and the why of it.

[Guido Cercatoro]

The hunter cleaned his knife and spear and then bent to examine the new berries. They were small and bright red; miniature versions of those that the stag had eaten.

“The stag is somehow bound to this part of the forest,” explained the woodsman. “It protects it through the seasons, challenging any who would harm it. Yet, it cannot escape the passing of time and must be reborn. It must die and pass on its role to a younger beast. I was present at the birth of the stag you have just killed… and the death of its father. That is all I know: its true nature is a mystery to me, for I follow the Father and not the Mother. And this is the Mother’s work; perhaps that is why you were allowed here.”

Baltimus chortled. “Still, whatever the tale, the meat looks fine. We should celebrate tonight with a feast.”

“Aye, it is time we returned,” murmured the woodsman. “We should leave this place to its new master.”

[Craghley]

With a nod Craghley stood. Vernon's words rang true - and it made him think of things he had yet to learn about the Mother. Recalling the visions, he looked to where he thought the young stag had been watching from - though he could know no such thing - and, as a final gesture, made a small cut on his own palm with a grimace. He let some of the blood sprinkle upon the base of the tree - hoping that with this offering, he would be able to give something to the young stag.

Unwilling to take anything but his quarry, Craghley determined to leave the berries as they were and assist Vernon transport the old stag.

"Ai agree. Wi' both of ye. Let us be gone - we all hae wha we cam for. Vernon, ye tak however much ye reckon be yours. And Baltimus, Ai think ye need tae be guided tae a guid brew after danglin' all that time."


(Fin?)

[Guido Cercatoro]

As the blood dropped from the hunter’s cut, it appeared to float down to the ground in slow motion. It soaked into the soil at the base of the tree and the earth rippled for a flicker. Remarkably, within half a burn a small, green shoot with a closed red bud had grown from the spot where the blood had fallen.

There was another disturbance in the nearby bushes and Craghley once again caught sight of the face of the young beast. A pair of dark eyes fixed themselves on the hunter for a brief moment; they were proud eyes, young and yet deep with some inner wisdom. The instant before they vanished a strong thought washed across Craghley’s senses: your blood has joined you to this forest… And then, the young stag was gone…

With some effort, the three companions carried the dead beast back to Pax. The cook at the Gate tavern prepared the flesh and a fine feast, accompanied by much ale, lasted much of the night.

“Yer’ve taken the first steps to be a hunter,” said Vernon, raising his mug in salute to Craghley.

(OOC: fin and locked for skilling etc).

[Guido Cercatoro]

Skilled