Wake of the Ravager

“So you need to raise Hunting?” Aoehe asked, looking at Cal. All he could get from the old Maje with Feel Intent was cold calculation.

“Or else my magic will bottleneck.” Cal said. “That and I could really go for some meat.”

Aoehe raised a brow but didn’t comment.

“All right. The village is running low. You and Ella will be escorted by Chuela.”

“Who’s-“

Aoehe raised a hand and green mist formed, creating his Chained Spirit.

The big man lumbered forward, his eyes scanning the environment, he glanced back at Aoehe with a questioning look.

“Hunting trip. Escort my daughter, and keep an eye on her pet.”

“I resemble that remark,” Cal said with a scowl before Ella gave him a noogie. He couldn’t exactly act like he wasn’t smitten, or else the old man would probably kill him in his sleep. That and he kinda was.

Cal was starting to think the old Maje had a blind spot in regards to his daughter, though, because Ella had been rather clingy, and Aoehe’s eyes seemed to slide away from the two of them whenever she acted familiar.

Wait, could it be a Skill of hers? Cal thought, glancing over at the towering Genosian girl. Overbearing dad? Restricted freedom? Maybe…

Aoehe raised his hand again, and another identical Chained Spirit stepped forward, then another, and another.

Aoehe made seven more, bringing the total of hulking chaperones to eight.

“You have until nightfall,” He said, waving them out of his yurt and returning to his sewing.

The eight chained spirits marched out of the tent and went around the camp gathering weapons.

“Are they…being controlled by him?” Cal asked as they watched the men arm themselves while exchanging conversation with the villagers. One of them was even holding up a little girl and swinging her in circles while she giggled madly. He was curious how the Chained spirits worked, having the skill.

“Chuela can be controlled, but when he is not, he simply does what is in his nature. It is in Chuela’s nature to work for the Iron Skin tribe.”

Humans can think, meaning you don’t have to control them directly. Convenient.

“Who is Chuela?” Cal asked.

“He is a legendary figure. One of the founding members of the Iron Skin tribe, some hundred and sixty years ago, and its greatest warrior to date, an Eohea.”

“what’s a-“

“What you call a veteran.” She answered before he finished. “Five Breaks, from a time when war between tribes was common.”

Five breaks, huh? That would put the man’s physical strength at somewhere between bone-breaking and demigod…wait a minute.

“How’s your father have him if he’s a hundred and sixty years dead?” Cal asked.

“He ate the previous owner,” Ella said with a nonchalant shrug that raised the hair on the back of his neck. “I imagine he’ll will him to Melau on his deathbed.”

“Well, that’s one way to keep the talent around,” Cal said with a shrug before he began preparing his own tools for hunting.

Three obsidian tipped darts, a ten-foot rope studded with obsidian flake and ivory fishhooks, an obsidian knife, a hundred feet of twine, a bow and fifteen arrows, a waterskin from the ice-cold stream beside the village, and a satchel full of flatbread crackers that Cal had been subsisting off of for the last couple weeks.

Damn, I need some real food. I’d even eat vegetables.

In a matter of minutes, they were ready to go, trotting down the mountainside with four Chuela in front of them, and four Chuela behind.

I wonder what the duration is on the summon? Cal thought as they walked down the mountainside, following a well-worn path to the jungle. Had to be over twelve hours if the Maje only expected them back by nightfall. The Genosians lived a short walk from the deep forest, where Warped horrors were common, while Calvin’s home town required one to walk for hours before reaching the edge of wild country.

The forest opened up and swallowed them in a matter of seconds, the stunning contrast between stony mountain and sudden jungle was disconcerting.

Once the canopy was above them, the eight Chained Spirits hunkered down and began creeping through the woods, so quietly it was difficult to hear them at all.

Calvin and Ella followed suit.

Chuela was the quietest, likely having a stealth skill and significant amounts of practice. He flowed through the forest like a ghost, his eight bodies forming a loose ring around the two of them.

Cal was a little louder, just barely better than Ella, who likely didn’t have a Warped Skill for it.

Together, the ten of them stalked through the forest, turning left at the bottom of the mountain, heading southeast into the deep jungle.

Eventually Chuela motioned for them to stop, smelling the air with a frown. He crept towards the two of them and whispered into their ears. “There are fire worms nearby.”

“Whats a fire-worm?” Cal whispered back, earning a frustrated look from their chaperone.

“They are a grub that eats the Sweating Trees,” Ella explained. “When frightened, they spit burning oil. Very dangerous.”

“….Sweating trees?” Cal asked.

Chuela ran his palm down his face in the universal sign of tired frustration.

“I hate teaching,” he said, then grabbed a nearby leaf that was slick with moisture, smearing it on his palm and holding it up for Cal’s inspection. The big, bearded warrior’s hand was slimy with oil.

“When you see these, smell for worms. They smell like tangy smoke.” He said, wiping his hand off on a nearby bush.

A moment later, he stopped them and pointed at a tree covered in foot-long white maggots that seemed to be happily munching away at the leaves.

“So can we take them down from a distance?” Cal asked, raising his bow before he was stopped by a firm hand.

“When Fireworm guts meet air…” Chuela made an explosion noise and spread his hands apart. “We go around.”

When the guts meet air, huh? Cal thought, storing that little nugget of information. Something was tickling the back of his mind. An idea for a way to further advance his style of Splitting.

They passed by some kind of dead rat, about three feet long with shaggy fur. Its body  was swarming with large buzzing wasps busily disassembling the body.

Cal’s heart skipped a beat as he spotted one of the things he’d been looking for.

“Prey of the Fever Wasps. They won’t bother us while they’re busy with their prey.” Chuela watched the corpse for a moment. “The hive is that way. We go around.”

As they passed by the corpse, Cal swiftly snatched one out of the air and stuffed it in his mouth, crunching down on the creature with his teeth and swallowing before it had an opportunity to sting him.

Bleh.

Entire creature eaten, would you like to assign it to a slot in the Chained Spirit ability?

Yes.

All Slots filled.

Fever Wasp: Aggressive carnivorous flying insect with highly venomous sting.

Summon 1 Fever Wasp, 1 minute.

“Brainless Aihue!” Chuela whispered, dragging him bodily away from the Fever Wasps. “You’re lucky they didn’t massacre you. They can smell when one of their own is attacked. Get out of here.”

“Understood, I was just curious.” Cal said as he was dragged away by the collar of his shirt. Ella watched him with a perplexed expression, shaking her head. He could feel exasperation and concern from her gaze, not suspicion, which was good.

A few minutes later the found what they were looking for, signs that a small herd of Bueya had passed by. Bueya were low to the ground, flat, fifty pound herbavores that dug shallow holes in the ground to eat the soft roots of trees and bushes.

They came across the creatures rooting through the ground in stand of trees, placidly munching on roots torn out of the ground by their sharp claws. They were brown and white with wide chests and long fur. They almost looked fluffy, but that fluff served to disguise the spines on their backs.

“These things are faster than they look,” Chuela whispered, pointing to the animals nearly sixty feet away. “After the first shot, they’ll scatter, and we won’t be able to track them down again.”

“Why don’t you just shoot eight of them at once?” Calvin asked.

Chuela grinned. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t die or slip your collar, boy. Show me what Ella’s pet wizard can do.”

“You’re carrying them,” Cal whispered, unslinging his bow. The view here was bad. More than half of them were hidden by trees. He knocked one of the rough Genosian arrows and sighted on a Bueya, drew and released without too much care.

Mass Splitting.

10/11 Bent Remaining.

The air around the Bueya became seething with speeding arrows bouncing off of each other, pinning each and every one of them to the ground. A few of them twitched pitifully for a moment or two, before going still.

“Whaddya think about that-“ Cal turned to see a fist come down on his head, hard. He hissed in pain as the warrior’s knuckles sent searing pain along his skull.

“I think you ruined the hides and most likely punctured the musk glands, making the meat nearly inedible.” Chuela said. “In addition to wiping out the entire herd, so there is no possibility of more Bueya being found in this area for a long time. We can’t even carry it all, so we’ll have to leave some here to rot. This isn’t all out warfare, you child, this is hunting. Think about that while you chew on musk-flavored Bueya penis tonight.”

“Got it,” Cal said, wincing. Bueya penis did not sound appetizing, but Chuela was right; he hadn’t been thinking. The self-reflection must have triggered something, because Cal got his fifth level of Hunting right then and there.

Hunting has reached Level 5!

Level 5: Boosts locating and tracking prey, 25% correction

+1 Will

“Now help me find which ones have unpunctured Musk glands,” Chuela said, motioning for him to follow.

Please choose an Ability or mutation.

Abilities:

Agent of Natural Selection: Know which animals to kill and which to keep, raising the quality and health of game over time.

Harvester: Hunting Bonus now also applies to butchering prey. 1 Bent: Instantly Dissassemble a creature into its useful materials.

Clean kill: Applies a correction to shots fired upon prey animals, steering them toward their vitals.

Camouflage: 1 Bent/6 hours. Blend in with the environment, lose your scent.

Mutations:

Predator’s senses: Pick a sense, (Sight, Sound, Smell, Touch, Taste). That sense becomes heightened to match a predator that uses it to hunt.

Blood Compass: after tasting something’s blood, know its exact direction for 24 hours.

Prey’s Body: You run good. A substantial boost to reflexes, cardiovascular strength, lung capacity, and leg strength.

Damn, those mutations look good, Cal thought to himself as Chuela watched him with irritation.

I choose Harvester. Cal thought.

There was a mental squiggle, and the technique for the ability lodged itself in his mind. Abilities didn’t require a period of sleep to readjust the body, since they were more techniques than changes to the body itself.

Oh yes, this is perfect, Cal thought, studying the details of the ability.

Now I should be able to butcher those Bueya no problem…among other things, Cal thought, following Chuela to the clearing where the fifteen Bueya were pitifully skewered to the ground.

As he approached, the smell turned awful, like some kind of burnt…asshole, had been tied to a string and batted around by sweaty teenagers.

“I’ll, um… I’ll stay over here, and leave Calvin to his punishment,” Ella said, her nose wrinkling.

“That’s fine.” Chuela said.

Once Cal stood in the middle of the disgusting smelling mess, he dismissed the copied arrows and retried his one from the loamy earth. He’d missed.

“Help me figure out which ones have undamaged Musk glands,” Chuela said, pointing around them.

“how am I supposed to do…nevermind,” Cal said as he watched Chuela bend over and sniff a Bueya’s crotch.

“Well, I’ve sniffed worse things, but not recently,” Cal said, getting on his knees and sniffing the animal’s junk.

Immediately he felt like some cosmic force had travelled up his nostrils, singing all the hairs on the way up before punching him in the face.

Cal turned away and retched, barely keeping his lunch down as Chuela laughed.

Seems like a good target, Cal thought, sneezing and coughing as he pulled out his twine.

“I want to try something.” Cal said, imagining the creature skinned, its meat cut into neat packages bound with twine, its hide removed and whole, its musk gland closed and unperforated.

Cal Bent down to touch the creature.

Harvester

9/11 Bent remaining.

Cal felt the ball of twine shrink in his hand, and suddenly the animal was gone, replaced with scraped bone, a tidy hide wrapped around a twined together package of meat, and a pile of guts topped with two little round balls, cinched at the top with twine, sloshing full of musk.

“I see you took Harvester.” Chuela said, watching him impassively.

“Thought it might help.”

“It’s an extravagance…but it’s your Bent, boy. I appreciate the thought.”

I don’t know if you saw what I saw, Cal thought. The ability had repaired the hide and the scent glands, allowing him to take them whole. That was exactly what he wanted.

…something like a fire-worm’s flammable guts, safely sealed inside its own stomach? Or the poison of a Joyaga without risking death from handling it improperly? Or a spider’s web drawn straight from within its body? There’s more to this ability than convenience.

“I can do four more, I want to save the rest for an emergency.”

“Mm,” Chuela nodded and pointed out four more badly mangled Bueya.

“Salvage those,” he said as five of his other copies began cutting poles to carry the meat-filled hides between them with.

Cal slipped one of the scent-glands into his pocket, moving on to the four prey animals that Chuela had pointed out.

8/11 Bent remaining.

7/11 Bent remaining.

6/11 Bent remaining.

5/11 Bent remaining.

Cal was packing up the last of the meat, his twine halfway gone, when he felt someone looking at him with…hunger?

Cal glanced up and spotted Chuela very slowly reaching for his club, his eyes fixed on the canopy.

The hungry gaze was coming from the canopy. Cal looked up and wished he hadn’t. Bulbous, pitch black eyes of an insect whose entire head was about the size of a yurt stared back at him. Its mandibles twitched.

The creature was huge and segmented, each segment the size of a building, with ten foot-long legs for days. Cal couldn’t even see the end of it, since it faded off into the distance.

It was the thing Aoehe had pointed out from the mountaintop.

“Children,” Chuela said, gathering Ella’s attention from where she was tying the packaged meat to poles. “Set the meat down and slowly walk away from it.”

Macronomicon