It was early morning in Rorom and Dana’s yurt. The hearthfire had long since expired, in spite of the occasional stoking that Rorom did every other hour during which he woke. By the time the suns were coming around the horizon, and the moons fading from sight, smoke billowed from the tube-like chimney of the yurt, signalling the flame’s expiration.
Rorom hadn’t been there for an hour or so, content to leave the girl to her own for at least a break, while he stalked the rob and sea lions on the northern icefields of Havardr. He returned before the suns lifted their faces over the horizon, leaving the shores of Havardr bathed in pale bluish light.
He swept aside the hide curtain that separated the Yurt’s internal area from the outside. Dana was covered in meager furs, rat and wild mongrel mostly, stuff they’d gathered while scrounging the coasts of the eastern continent’s northern coast. They’d need serious blankets for the villagers if they wanted to help keep them warm during those cold Cylus nights. It was this purpose that prompted him to bring her along, in order to teach, and also learn a thing or two.
He had never bothered her about her magical abilities, whether hey still persisted, or were some kind of quirk of fate, a temporary and passing thing. He didn’t know much about magic in general. He was happy for it to remain the case, but even so he couldn’t deny that it might be beneficial for those around him to use those powers for good, as he did know some positive uses for arcana already.
His only concern was that it would change him, and twist him into something else. Something worse.
“Dana,” he whispered softly, lifting the corner of her blanket. She growled in her sleep, but then rolled over to look up at him. “We’re going to field, to see what we can find. I’m bringing you with me.”
She squinted, and then nodded, sweeping aside the blanket, and taking her coat off of its hanger on the side of one of the yurt’s supports. “Beasts?”
“Yes,” Rorom grunted, “Beasts.”
So they stalked ahead, going along on their own, as Rorom had no wish to betray his mystical abilities to those that surrounded him. Although many on Scalvoris were progressive and pragmatic in their view toward magic users, a society was only one generation removed from pogroms and mage burnings. Case in point, Viden, and by reputation Rynmere, although he knew less of that fallen Kingdom.
It would be best to keep a lid on their capabilities, or at the worst leave it to the realm of rumor. It was unlike Rorom to not be forthright about things, but this one subject felt right to be avoidant of.
Their feet took them softly over the foothills of Havardr, which were already covered in snow. Over the stoney fields and through to the ice flats that lay just to the northwest, where the climate grew somewhat balmier a few miles north, toward Almund.
He noted the marks on the ground, and Dana did the same, looking at him after taking her own observation of the surrounding tracks. “These aren’t feet.” She said.
“No, we’re tracking rob and sea lions. Fins and long stretches of their bulk across the fields, into the ice and the waters… They’re made for swimming, but congregate in great numbers for safety.”
Dana nodded, and then her brow darkened. “Crowds of beasts… no safety from people, though. They have nets, and weapons.”
“Smart girl. But we’re not hunting them to extinction. We’ll be breaking them up some. Taking down a big male, close to his peak, with a harem that would be better served divided into more groups.”
Dana nodded. She wasn’t squeamish about killing beasts, though she had a soft spot for them. She could understand the concept of custodianship over wildlife, at least.
“There’s a big old sea lion king.” Rorom told her, “Boasts a voice like a devil trumpet, and flippers heavy like ashwood oars.” He licked his lips.
Dana looked thoughtfully at Rorom, noting his expression. “You’re going to keep him, aren’t you?”
Rorom didn’t answer, but stalked ahead, forcing Dana to scramble after him on her snowshoes.
A few breaks of stalking through the snow and stoney fields, into the ice fields, they spotted them on a icy inlet. At first, it was difficult to spot, given the way their hides blended with the rocks and water and ice. One couldn't deny they had a natural camouflage. But eventually the eyes adjusted, and movement was spotted in those large rocks in the distance, given them away for sea lions and seal herds.
Rorom frowned, as he spotted his chosen quarry.
Dana tugged at his jacket, and whispered, "Too many."
"We won't be killing any of them today, we're just observing, seeing when they dive into the waters, their habits, their schedule." Rorom's eyes gleamed with interest as he saw the large mountanous sea lion alpha. Its bark trumpetted across the ice fields, shouting a warning to any of the sub-males, to keep away from his harem while he dove and hunted. It was far from the mating season of summer, so Rorom wouldn't have to worry about him being guarded by a harem of females, and hemmed in by rival males. But now there was the distraction of bulking up fro the coming winter.
He would catch him isolated out in the hunt, or bring around more Havardeens to corral them into herds, and send them back to the village for slaughter.
Dana followed his eyes to the animals, and a dreamy look came to her face, "They're so... amazing. I like them."
"Aye, noble animals to be sure. But it's their skins, their bones, their fat and meat that will bring prosperity and subsistence to the village." Rorom said, disabusing her of any notions of keeping strays or taking them on as chattel. "They ain't sea cows to be domesticated, girl. These are wild animals, and we'll give them a quick and dignified death in the slaughter at the village, when we corral them."
Dana nodded, and sighed, as she lowered herself in the stoney ground, so as not to be spotted by those largely docile giants.
After a few bis of observation, Rorom looked at her, and then tilted his head, signalling that thtey should move away from the herd presently.
He took a few articles he was carrying, his cloak, his spear, and the sea wolf amulet around his neck. Finally, a small sturgeon totem that he kept as a lapel pin. These he set in front of him, and grimaced.
"What is it?" Dana asked, looking to the items. Then she realized what the two totem objects were. "Oh!"
"My... the thing living in me... It's trying to tell me something about these keepsakes. I bring them everywhere with me, but there's an urge... I can't quite place."
Dana nodded, and touched the fur of the sea wolf cloak. "I think I understand."
"Do yer?"
"It wants to own these things. There is a way... You focus on it, like you would a totem, only it takes only a few moments for objects you know good."
Rorom followed her hands, as they grazed over the artifacts. "Is that... some kind of witchery then? From the devil inside?"
She looked at him, giving him a twisted look, like he had asked the most stupid question. "It's what it is. Try it, think on the objects, their shape, and bring their being into you."
Rorom snorted, and shrugged. But then he took her direction, grazing his hand over the objects, feeling out their physical being as a manner of meditation.
He began to feel something a stirring of that inner devil, drawing the objects to him. His attention toward the sea wolf amulet and the cloak in particular seemed to give rise to a stirring of the Sea Wolf inside. It snarled, and trumpeted its ire at its demise. It grew more intense as his focus drew in the sea wolf amulet, that was its totem object. To his surprise, he found the small trinket flew toward his hand within moments, and began sinking into his flesh, assimilating with his very being.
"What...!" he flew backward, onto his backside, and then the cloak itself wrapped its way around him, by way to protect him from his fall on the ground. The shock of it all made Dana giggle, as she admired Rorom's antics.
He huffed, and clambered to his feet once again, and buoyed by his apparent success at this new technique, spell, ability, whatever witchery you'd call it, he tried the same process on the sturgeon's totem object. The sturgeon's jeweled pin began to respond to his touch almost immediately, and quickened to him, sinking into his flesh as the sea wolf amulet had. This time he was well prepared for that strangeness, as unsettling as it was.
Finally, he looked to the trident short spear he'd brought with him. "Dare I?" Rororm muttered, sardonically.
"It won't hurt, trust!" Dana said, and Rorom wondered if this was some other witch mischief she meant to inflict on him. Especially having learned of his plans for the poor and 'helpless' sea lions to the north.
Rorom took a breath, and held his hand over the trident, remembering the battles he'd fought, the hunts he'd undergone with it at his side. This took a bit longer, but eventually the trident acclimated to his soul, and became a part of him as well, rising to his hand with a single leap. Rorom quirked a brow, and looked to Dana, seeming actually pleased with himself, and the devil inside for once. "That might come in handy, sometime."
Dana rolled her eyes, and then fell in step as they made their way back to the village, to inform the residents what they'd be doing for the next five days, hunting those sea lions for their skins, meats, fats, bones, teeth and all.
