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    Calling Upon the Stalker Clan

    Cinnamon Tiefling

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    Calling Upon the Stalker Clan

    Post by Codex on Thu Jun 18, 2015 7:43 pm

    Scents had a particular way of sticking to one's memory; Vida knew this well. While her nose was not as strong as others', she got by rather well, she liked to think. She'd managed to recreate the herbal mixture Ásbjörn had used to calm himself, after all. Sure, it seemed to turn out a bit too strong for her two pack brothers, sending one into a light sleep within minutes, but she'd done so.

    And it wasn't the first time she'd worked to replicate a scent. As it turned out, her family's ability to mimic was not entirely restricted to sound. She learned the ability from her father Valdi, who had taught her while hunting how to throw her voice or imitate other creatures in the wild. It was one of the few lessons with her father that had shown successful results. She'd taken that and applied it elsewhere many times.

    She was only lucky that when it was absolutely needed, she seemed to be able to replicate what she needed by scent - at least closely enough to be effective. However, it took effort (or at the very least focus) and it could only do so much: she needed to act. They all needed to act.

    It was not ofen that the Silent Shepherd of the North answered distress calls for one of the Stalker Clan in person, but the feeling of desperation in this call had surprised him, in a way.

    Morven came down from the mountains within mere hours and arrived at the campsite described in the letter. He eyed the Floating Tavern and Merchant Docks mere paces away with apprehensiveness, but he stayed where he was.

    By then, it was the dead of night. Nocturnal creatures were out en force, their noises pleasant to his ears, but not enough to drown out the sound of boisterous laughter and loud voices of the few who still sat in the tavern.

    From the shadows came the auburn-haired Spirit Walker, her piercing golden eyes outlined in black paint that had been heavily smudged, as if wiped at numerous times. She was covered entirely from the neck down, a determined gleam in her eye. This had to have been her, but he was not about to give away his identity so easily first.

    "You are the Shepherd, are you not?"

    ... Unless she guessed it first. It must have been the trophies that decorated his clothing.

    "You are the Spirit Walker?"

    She nodded. "I am Vida of the Frost Fang. I'm glad you've decided to speak with me..." Something about her was oddly tense and maybe even troubled at first - but this was mere intuition coming from him. Something seemed wrong, though he did not press it. Besides, it wasn't like he cared much for the personal matters of others; he was only there to answer the call.

    "Of course..." He regarded her with a good-natured smile despite her tension, settling down on a log at the campfire and gesturing to her. "What can one of the Stalker Clan do for you, Vida of the Frost Fang?"

    With reluctance, Vida seated herself across from him before she said anything else. One gloved hand rubbed at her face; she was carefully planning her words. "I wish for you to deliver a message to the Blood Clan; a possible trade offer."

    "Go on..." He waited expectantly for her answer, scratching at the shaved half of his head as he did.

    She contemplatively stared toward him for another moment before she said anything else. "I would ask for the cure to blood sickness, as well as the composition of the cure, if possible."

    "And what would you give them in return?"


    Morven blinked a few times in confusion. He stifled a laugh by pretending to clear his throat, though the incredulous look on his face remained. "And just why would they want you enough to provide the cure to their blood sickness, Vida of the Frost Fang?"

    "Because I am the daughter of Edda and Valdi, the Betrayers. I am a defector. I am Blood Clan by birth, but I fled as a child." She paused to stare toward him once more. Vida was not often one for words, but lately, necessity called for it in abundance. She leaned forward, her elbows braced to her knees. "They do not take too kindly to something of that ilk regardless of age; they would be pleased to finally end my life the way they should have to begin with, especially if they came to find I survived for much longer than they probably thought I would."

    His eyebrow raised. "And if they see that as a right, rather than a fair offer?"

    "There is more to the offer."

    Morven stared back toward her intently as he awaited the answer... but then the scent began to hit him: that sweet scent that he frankly didn't come across often in his travels. He couldn't put his finger on it; what was it?

    "I am sure they would see it as a boon and rightful retribution if they were to repossess a defector who is with child."

    His stomach turned uneasily as he stared toward her in disbelief. His head suddenly shook, and he rose to his feet. "Are you mad? I will not walk an expectant mother to her death, Vida!" This insane, tiny woman was oddly calm and accepting for someone who practically asked for their own demise; it unsettled him greatly. "Why are you so willing to do this?"

    "Two of my pack brothers are afflicted with blood sickness - possibly my sister as well. One is very, very ill; the other is early in the stages, but has begun to show signs of change. I have felt responsible for them for quite some time... and have failed them. We did not search for our brothers when they disappeared; we assumed they had left. I do not want this to cost them their lives, and I would offer mine in exchange - especially if it meant we would know how to cure it, should it infiltrate our clan again." As she spoke, she too rose to her feet, moving toward him and reaching out to grasp him by the arm in case he moved to walk away. "I am fully aware of what I am asking you to do..." It was then that she used her other hand to retrieve parchment from a pouch at her belt, words written clearly upon it.

    This statement absolves the Stalker Clan of all fault. They are merely acting upon my own request. I, Vida of the Frost Fang, have made the call to the Stalker Clan, and the Stalker Clan responded, as is their code.

    "... But should you choose not to aid me, I will have to call upon the Corax. So, you can break your code and refuse to help us after you've answered your call, causing me to turn to the ravens... or you can help me sacrifice one - or two - to save a clan."

    Her name was signed below the words in blood that had already begun to turn brown. As Morven took the paper offered to him, he let out a heavy sigh. This didn't feel right... but he had answered the call. He felt he had to help.

    Looking to her in defeat, he had lost his good-natured appearance long ago. "What would you have me do?"

    "Contact the nearest Blood Clan member you can find and arrange to meet them, but not on their grounds. Wherever you can convince them to meet you would work. I will remain nearby, but not within sight until the arrangement is made. Obtain their end of the deal, and then I will come forth. You are to take the cure and any information you can obtain about it, and take it directly to one of my pack brothers or sisters; I will insure that each of them are marked with a protective rune upon their foreheads before the arrangement is made. After that point, you are free to go. Whatever you hear, smell, or see, do not turn back or look back - and never speak or ask of the ordeal once the exchange has been made. Forget it entirely by then."

    Morven stared apprehensively toward Vida, and he spoke sternly and simply to her. "It does not please me to turn a blind eye to a mother with an apparent death wish. I am only doing this since you appear to be of sound mind, even if I think you are damned insane. But should you change your mind before this exchange..." He narrowed his eyes at her. "I will wait until midday tomorrow before I send for one of them. Should you change your mind before then, tell me, and I will forget any of this ever happened."

    Vida simply nodded at first before one of her hands reached out to meet his halfway, shaking it before withdrawing and looking toward him. If Morven didn't know any better, he'd say she was on the verge of crying. Still, he did not ask; he simply looked toward her and withdrew into the woods to sleep for the night; resting at another's campsite did not sit well with him.

    Meanwhile, the Spirit Walker returned to the den for the comfort of another's presence as she slept, what little she could. She would have to be up early to discuss her plan with Arianna - a merging of ideas, greatly inspired by one little phrase spoken by the alpha earlier that day...

      Current date/time is Fri Feb 22, 2019 11:26 pm