• Solo • Nock, and the door will be opened to you

[Oram Mednix]

17 Saun, Arc 720

Oram woke to find his left hand itching insistently; that may have had something to do with the several mosquito bites that had appeared on it overnight. Remembering his father’s warnings not to scratch such bites too much, the hunter spent most of the first break of the morning keeping both his hands as busy as possible, tending to his animals, making breakfast, cleaning up, raising the bear bag once more before he set out to check on his seeps.

Of course, he could not keep his hands busy nonstop, and during pauses in his tasks the fingers on his right hand invariably went, seemingly with a will of their own, to the back of his left. There were salves and ointments, he knew, that could lessen his torment, if only he had some. Since he didn’t, he would have to make his remedies from scratch. From scratch. The last thought brought a smirk to Oram’s face. It was the sort of pun Osric might make, were he here. Grasping his boar spear pointedly in his right hand, and driving all further thoughts of puns and scratching out his mind, Oram set out for the ravines.

The cat, whatever sort it was, had definitely returned during the night. There were fresh tracks, and when Oram came to the seep itself, he found that the branches he had used to cover it had been disturbed, thrashed aside to get at the water. Grumbling, he began to scoop the soiled water out and dumped it aside, waiting for the hole to refill with cleaner water before drinking from it. Oram could find no scat around the seep, so the cat hadn’t staid long after it had had its drink. He was sure, however, that it would come back.

He checked the second seep and found it still undisturbed. The cat had clearly decided it liked the first seep, so Oram decided not to replace the covering branches there and to instead use it as a lure. After taking a few passes up and down the ravine, he picked a spot right in front of the seep itself. The site offered ample overhanging trees to power the snare, and the cat had already accepted the other scents it had found there, which Oram was sure included his own.

Setting the net trap took time, and even more rope. The trigger and bait were quick enough work; Oram had done it countless times before. But the hunter had learned that a proper net snare needed to be secured at more than just the four corners; one had to weave the rope along the entire edge of the net if one wanted it to close firmly around its quarry.

He set the bait firmly on the trigger stick, and seated the trigger so that it would take some effort to dislodge. There was a chance that smaller vermin would get to the bait first, and Oram didn’t want them springing the trap. Even if they ended up nibbling all the bait, the cat might very well try to take the stick because of the taste. At least, that was the hunter’s guess.

[Oram Mednix]

It really is a bitch; the more I scratch, the more I itch

Oram’s hand itched. With the trap set, all Oram needed to do was wait. Getting water for his animals from the second seep, he went back to the camp. The itching on his hand was driving him to distraction. Washing his hands with water did little to help. He had read that certain salves could sooth the itch, but Oram did not have any salves, let alone certain ones. Desperate for relief, he tried applying the sap of the pine tree he had tried to tap earlier. The sap irritated his skin, and did nothing to relieve the itch.

Oram’s hand itched. An old woman in his camp had once told him and his brother as kids that scratching poison ivy would actually spread the itch. Oram didn’t know if that was true, but apparently it didn’t hold for mosquito bites; otherwise, his whole arm would probably be itching. Still, he knew that he shouldn’t scratch, at least not too much, and in the end, the only thing that worked was to sit on his hand, while pointedly thinking of something else.

Oram’s hand itched. The next few breaks were some of the longest in Oram’s life. Their endlessness was made worse by the fact that the trial was so uneventful; the most dramatic thing that happened while he had to stop his goats from eating pine needles. More than once he thought he might have seen a feline silhouette slinking about, or heard the roar of a panther in the distance, but that was nonsense; he could not possibly see or hear anything happening in the ravine from here, as much as he desperately wanted to.

Oram’s hand itched. At long last, the suns set in the west, the evening shade appearing in the lowlands and then creeping up the west face of Oram’s ridge until it overtook his campsite. He made himself some dinner and then cleaned up. and then went to check on his trap. In the hopes that he would find a reason, he took his spear.

Oram’s hand itched. As he had hoped, he found fresh large catprints at the entrance of the first ravine. Like many creatures, it was active in the evening. Carefully now, his boar spear lowered at the ready, the hunter stalked down the narrow channel between the high stone walls. His eyes scanned up those walls. He knew that panthers could climb, and some actually liked to ambush their prey from above, sometimes from trees.

Oram’s hand itched. Even before he reached the seep, he could see the net hanging overhead. It swung and heaved spasmodically as the creature inside tried to fight its way out. It was quiet; it didn’t roar as the hunter had imagined it might. Only when he got close did a noise come from inside the net: a low, warning growl.

Oram’s hand itched. He realized, looking up at the swinging, convulsing net, that he had caught his quarry. The pelt looked light, buff-colored, without any stripes or spots. A cougar, then. He also realized that he didn’t actually have a plan for killing the animal. He could stick it with his spear, but that was bound to be slow and messy. Why had he not thought this through better? Perhaps he had been preoccupied with something.

[Oram Mednix]

Gross profit, net loss

Before he had dragged himself and his team up this ridge, Oram had considered purchasing a bow, but had not actually done so. He had considered fashioning a snare stick using one of the bamboo tubes he had, but had not done so. He had considered picking up a belay pin to use as a cudgel, perhaps asking Darius for one. He had pondered getting some poisons, and learning something about their use. But had not done so. In short, he was unprepared for the success he had created for himself here. With a groan, the hunter realized he had little choice but to stick the cougar with his spear through the mesh of the net. It wouldn’t be difficult, but it would be needlessly messy and cruel, not to mention hard on his equipment, and the pelt he had hoped to harvest.

The creature trapped in the net had already started hissing and growling at him in ineffectual menace. Gritting his teeth, he stepped forward and looked for a place to aim. The creature flicked its ears and bared its teeth at him. Seeing those teeth made Oram realize that yet another alternative to what he was about to do probably wouldn’t work: simply leaving the cougar in the net to die. With those claws and teeth, the cougar might well be able to scratch and chew its way free, and even if it didn’t, waiting for it to die would be both time-wasting and cruel.

As opposed to stabbing it to death with a spear, the trapper thought ruefully, as he proceeded to do just that. He stepped forward and aimed a jab first at the cougar’s side. The blow landed and cut flesh, but not cleanly, only drawing some blood. The cougar let out a blood-curdling shout that took Oram by surprise; it sounded uncannily like a woman screaming. Gritting his teeth, he jabbed again, aiming for the neck. With the creature thrashing about, this was not easy to accomplish, and his first attempt caught the creature on the shoulder, the second gashed its eye. But Oram persisted, redoubling his efforts. He *had* to silence that terrible, human-like cry. He stabbed and stabbed the creature screamed and screamed. Then, suddenly, Oram connected with the artery in the neck, and also, he though, either severed wind-pipe or cut through vocal chords. The screaming gave way to a high-pitched gasping, gurgling sound, not loud, but for nearly half a break quite insistent.

Oram paused, stepped back, surveyed his carnage. The beast from the neck up was a red mess. Blood now dripped copiously from the net, and enough of it had started to ooze down the hunter’s spear that it had reached his lead hand. Some of the blood was dripping into the seep, Oram realized, and perhaps more importantly onto the stones around the seep. This one probably wasn’t useful anymore. He was just thankful he had had the foresight to dig two. Even in its death throes, the creature tried to break out of the net. Teeth gnashed at the strands; claws plucked at the mesh. But it did so now with steadily less energy. Eventually this stopped, and the creature’s motions were no more than weak twitches, jerks, and flops. Then it was still.

It was fully dark by the time the cougar was dead, and Oram opened the hood of lantern to let the yellow light of his lightstone pour out. By this light, he pulled the net snare down, retrieved the net from it, and cut it open to harvest the pelt. The blood looked black and surreal by this light, but it was still quite visible, indeed hard to miss: the entire top of half of the creature’s pelt was smeared and matted with it. Oram would have to clean it off, along with his spear. And himself. And the only water he had for this was in this seep.

Lack of running water for cleaning was yet another reason Oram would not be coming back here, he thought. Going up into the hills where it would be a bit cooler in Saun had sounded like a good idea when he had set out, but it had created more new problems than it had solved. It took forever to wash out the blood, and when the hunter finally stopped, it was not so much because he had managed to clean all of it, but because the water in the seep was so bloody that he could no longer use it to get things any cleaner.

Already feeling weary by this, Oram took out his skinning knife and began the tedious process of skinning the cougar. This was more time consuming than for, say a rabbit. First one had to cut around the base of the neck, then along each of the limbs, then finally a long ventral cut to the animals groin. And removing the pelt from the carcass took time and patience even after the cut was made. By the time he had finally removed the mangled, blood-smeared pelt, it was late, and he was tired and disgusted. Gathering his net, his gear, and his pelt, he got up and walked away, not even bothering to get rid of the carcass. He was sure he looked atrocious. He stripped off everything except his loincloth and his boots, and washed his clothes as well as he could, then splashed the blood-reddened water over his body to at least get it cleaner than it was. In this state, damp, mostly naked, and pink, carrying his spear in one hand and his dubious bundle of pelt, clothes, and mangled net under the other arm, he made his way back to camp with only one thought: Never again.

There was one bit of good news, however: his hand didn't itch anymore.

[Doran]

Oram:

Knowledge:
[Discipline] Killing an animal with unexpectedly human-like traits can be traumatic.
[Discipline] Even a minor distress can impair your ability to think clearly.
[Fieldcraft] Blood is hard to clean up, and can foul a water supply.
[Hunting] Skinning a cougar is time-consuming.
[Hunting] Cougars can make an uncannily and upsettingly human-like scream.
[Trap-Making] Making a net snare large enough to catch a large cat.

Loot: A cougar pelt
Lost: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 10

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Comments: Even though Oram didn’t purchase the bow by the time this thread was started, I still appreciate the pun in the title. Your thread titles are always quite entertaining in my opinion!

I can definitely empathize with the itching from the mosquito bites. It reminds me a bit of a holiday in Sweden a couple of years ago where there were mosquitoes everywhere!

You described that annoying itch and how hard it is to resist the urge to scratch (and how distracting it is) very well!

I couldn’t help but be a bit amused when he ended up sitting on his hand to avoid scratching it.

Poor Oram!

The scene where Oram killed the cougar was a bit graphic, but well-written in my opinion. I didn’t have any idea that cougars can sound like a woman screaming when you stab them!

The ending where Oram walked back to his camp was great in my opinion, by the way! His hand didn’t itch anymore!

All in all, I really enjoyed the mixture of humor and bloodiness!

You requested the following knowledge: “[Hunting] Cougars can make an uncannily and upsettingly human-like scream.” I can definitely see how that might help when it comes to hunting cougars, but you could have made it clearer how it relates to the Hunting skill in my opinion.

I also noticed that you requested 1 WP for the cougar pelt. In order to get those extra WP after you have completed your Wealth thread, you should demonstrate how you gained wealth. Skinning a cougar doesn’t automatically lead to nels. You should at least have made a brief mention of Oram going somewhere in order to sell the pelt or something similar in my opinion.

I’ve awarded the pelt as loot though so that you can sell it in a future thread if you want to!

Enjoy your rewards, and let me know if you have any questions, please!

P.S.: I might have added a "mature" tag to this thread as the description of Oram killing the cougar was graphic.