A Celebration of Fire and Food
Badan sat before The Fire as it loomed large before everyone in the Herd, he was observing the crowd, his people, all celebrating the successful hunt. The successful passage for Baku. Baku’s first kill. And what a kill it was. Word had already begun to spread about the wild boy who took down a saber by himself.
The mood was jovial, easy, friendly as the saber was large and everyone would eat some hearty meat instead of the usual fish. They threw on some extra wood to make the Fire burn even bigger than usual. The warmth of it kept everyone’s spirits high as it roared gloriously above everyone. He looked over his many friends who had come to find a home in this place he and Truset and Gunthry and Drea found all those years ago.
Dhiig and Farin were laughing about a prior hunt they had gone on as Baku looked on barely able to believe he was accepted among them as an equal. The difference in demeanor between how he was treated before and how he was now, the esteem he was greeted with by the best hunters of the Bone Herd. It was something that his brother had never achieved, yes, he went on his hunt and they were successful, but he had heard the story from Yavin. He knew that G’an’n needed another to finish off his prey. He didn’t have the killer instinct that Baku had, and Baku relished in knowing the perceived superiority he had over his brother in the aspect of hunting.
Badan rose to his feet and walked before the Fire in full view of the Bone Herd. “We gather tonight to celebrate Baku for providing us with this feast! We also must celebrate this beast giving its life so we may live, we honor the sacrifice it has made for us as it strengthens us towards another day.”
Badan takes a knife and cuts off a piece of cooked meat. “To Baku!”
“To Baku!” Everyone in the Bone Herd follows along with Badan.
Badan hands the cut meat to Baku who takes a large bite out of it. The rest of the Bone Herd cheer wildly in celebration. Hesits down beside Baku, draping his arm over his shoulder and begins to tell a story.
I. The Forever Freeze
It had been a long time ago, well before the establishment of the Bone Herd. Badan was preparing for his morning trek into the wilderness. Truset and he were running low on wood and if he could not procure more they would surely freeze to death. He cared for nothing more than to ensure his wife was comfortable as she was pregnant and expecting to birth their first child in the coming weeks. He was strong willed and vigorous, never having met a man he couldn’t best in combat, or a woman who could deny his charms until he met Truset.
Truset was strong willed and uncompromising, unlike any woman Badan had ever met. She spurned his advances on more than one occasion. He tried to impress her with his skills of combat, it failed. He tried to show her how he could provide for her, it failed. He continued trying and the only reason she didn’t outright reject him was because she knew he was genuine. From the moment he saw her, he had eyes for no other.
They had grown up together, decades before the formation of the Bone Herd. They were a small tribe, but very close. They recalled a land before the ice, before the snow, before the forever freeze had come. They recalled the warmth, the lush landscape, the vibrant colors, the sheer abundance that was there before, not everyone had to hunt. For a time it looked as though their tribe would be continue growing, but it was not meant to be for once winter came one year it never left.
It was during this time Badan had shown her his compassion, his heart, his leadership, his courage and how he fought to keep their tribe together that finally allowed him into her embrace. He fought for the tribe, he fought for the family he had come to know, he hunted anything he could find to feed, he gathered wood, he kept the fire going for the tribe and in their hearts…until there were none left but them. It was only then when they decided they must move on if they are to survive. This land they lived on was inhospitable. They were landlocked and needed closer access to fresh water. They only stayed to help the others, but being the only ones left there was no point…they just hoped they weren’t too late in leaving. They abandoned their home taking one last look at it before moving forward towards their new lives.
Their journey was not without peril.
They fought through the elements, the harsh and unforgiving weather and terrain, keeping a fire burning when they , always seeking cover when the wind grew too strong, relying on each
They managed to find a home that wasn’t completely frozen, an area where they could see a lush forest in the distance and snowcapped mountains, even a river that provided them with fresh water. The land was inhabited by numerous mammoth carcasses, and while others may have seen this as a place of bad fortune, they saw the potential of this land. It wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as they could imagine perfection to be, it was their new home. It was where they would plant the seed to their future tribe. A home for their unborn child and any other wanderer looking for a home and to build a community.
II. The Journey
Badan had left Truset behind in order to gather the necessary materials to keep the fire going. There was not much wood lying around so he had to go deeper into the forest than he normally would. He thought to himself, “if only I had a weapon that could dismember a tree”, a thought he would revisit later in his life. He was cautious as one must always be when venturing out into the wilderness alone.
He gathered as many twigs and sticks he could carry and bundled them with a skin wrap. He had been out for longer than he had intended, but he was hopeful he could find their next meal while he was away, unfortunately there was little else other than a stray bird. Nothing he could kill with his spear.
Still, he hunted.
The forest always brought a certain calm to Badan, he was able to take in the scenery and absorb it, and while it could not sustain him it did nourish him. He continued his journey as the wind swirled around him, occasionally he would feel a slight reprieve from the cold winds as the trees gave him cover. He had found himself in an area he had never been before, an area with actual plants and not just trees.
Badan observed the area, in part to make sure there was no one around but also because he had come across a moderately sized hare who had been snacking on some leafy plants. Badan thought to himself about how lucky he was to find such a location, it wasn’t much, but these plants could also sustain Truset and he. He slowly raised his spear and took aim at the wild hare. He was quite skilled when it came to aiming it at motionless prey. He threw it with a mighty heave and impaled the hare through its heart. It was a quick kill.
Badan had begun to approach his kill, but he felt something in the air…a stillness that gave him pause. He stopped…all was silent. There was no wind. There were no birds. There was nothing except the hare and him. He continued and grabbed his weapon, then placed the hare into a small pouch on his hip.
He felt the plants with his hand, feeling its texture, its coarseness…he thought to himself ”the hare was eating when I first saw it, it must be safe to eat.” He plucked some leaves and walked around in the opening, studying the rest of the fauna. No berries. No tubers. Just leaves. It would have to suffice. He plucked a bit more and placed it inside the skin wrap with the branches and twigs.
He took one last moment to mark the area in his mind, “perhaps there will be more to find if the temperature would get a bit warmer”, then he continued back through the woods the way he came. Once he had reached the dense area of trees the bitter cold snapped back.
“I need to get back to Truset, I’ve been gone too long as is.”
Badan picked up the pace and continued on his way. He had come to the entrance of the forest and it was then he had seen a plump deer in the distance. The deer had seen him as he exited the forest and bolted away. Badan had no time to react, he just ran as fast as he could and launched his spear at it as best he could while at a full run and encumbered with various supplies on his body. For a moment it looked as though his aim had been true once again…unfortunately it missed by a step.
The deer for some reason had stopped, almost as if it could sense how close it came to its own death. It circled Badan’s spear then looked back in his direction as if to say “it was a good try, but today is not my day to perish.” Badan seemingly acknowledged his defeat to the animal as he knew it would be out of range by the time he retrieved his spear.
He slowed to a walk as he prepared to watch the animal stride away.
As the deer turned to gallop away another spear from the opposite side had become visible to Badan and it entered into the animals throat and protruded out the back of its neck, severing its spine. It fell to the snowy tundra and spent its last few moments bleeding out…it was such a great throw the deer was dead before it could even realize it was dying. It was a quick death, one that Badan admired. He was grateful that such an animal did not suffer, but he wondered “what am I walking into?”
Badan needed to retrieve his spear, but doing so would bring him towards an encounter with an unknown stranger. He knew he needed to be swift but light-footed as well. He dropped the sticks, plants and hare into the snow beside where he was standing. He rushed towards his weapon, hoping to secure it before the other person or group secured theirs. It was not to be…
III. An Unknown Stranger
Badan is confronted by a brute he assumes is a simple barbarian. He had reached his weapon but the barbarian had reached his kill. They grabbed their weapons an retrieved them simultaneously. The stood opposite one another, everything was silent…the snow was thick…except for the men and the dead deer between them, everything was gray and white…
The distance between them felt as though it grew.
They stared at one another judging whether or not they could trust the other…
They both postured defensively…almost at the same second.
As the distance shortened the Stranger grew larger and more imposing.
Badan began to circle with his adversary almost instinctually.
Cautious.
Each man moving slowly, observing the other’s every move. The idea of fight or flight fills both their heads, they assume the worst because strangers are rarely kind and in this world, they have no choice to play nice.
They close the gap between them. Badan anticipates the first strike from his opponent, parrying the blow away although he doesn’t choose to follow up on the opening.
His adversary takes this as a sign of weakness, assuming he is too scared by his might and uses this to try and overwhelm Badan with a flurry of strikes and jabs.
Badan clearly has the speed advantage and manages to dodge each strike, though the blows from the stranger are in fast succession and quicker than he would expect from such a large foe.
The Stranger pulls back as if expecting Badan to return the attack, but Badan does not. Badan remains in a defensive posture as the Stranger readies himself for another flurry.
IV. The Resolution
“Must we fight?” Badan asked.
“You kill me or I kill you.” The Stranger replied.
Each takes their time as they feel out the other, trying to get a grasp on how far away the other is without leaving an opening to a killing blow from their foe. The Stranger thrust his weapon but Badan parried it away and pushed his opponent backwards, creating some distance between the two.
It was only a momentary separation as Badan was soon on the defensive once again.
The Stranger continued attacking.
Badan kept dodging as the Stranger pressed the attack.
“I’d prefer we not keep doing this.”
“Quit dancing and fight ye fool!”
“As you wish.”
Badan dodged another blow by the Stranger but this time rather than push him away or move away he took advantage of the opening he was given and smashed his opponent with a stiff shoulder thrust to the chest.
The Stranger felt it as it staggered him, though Badan did not press his advantage.
“You’ll pay for that one.”
The wiped the blood from his lip and spread it on his face then let out a roar and rushed at Badan in a rage. While Badan had managed to maneuver out of the way of the prior blows, he was unprepared for the berserker rage that was unleashed.He was taken to the ground and both men had lost hold of their weapons. It had become a fierce fight, hand to hand combat where each was ripping, pulling, punching, grabbing whatever they could.
The Stranger managed to land several clubbing blows to Badan’s ribs and face, each one that landed on his ribs took his breath away and the one’s that managed to land on his face and head left him somewhat hazy, though he was hurting, he was still in the fight. Reaching for anything Badan grabbed the man’s beard and slammed the top of his head into the bridge of the man’s nose causing him to fall onto his back.
The Stranger could only see black for a moment. His nose was broken, blood gushed out of the shattered and crooked appendage. He tried to breath through it but was unable, so he heaved through his mouth as he pushed himself up to a knee as he gained his bearings.
Badan took his opportunity to regain his breath while his opponent was out of the fight. He sat up and looked at the Stranger who had already risen to his feet letting out an exasperated sigh as he prepared to continue the fight. He looked in his left hand and noticed a torn piece of fabric, it was not his so it puzzled him for a moment until he saw the Stranger steady himself and turn back towards Badan.
Unbeknownst to the Stranger, the piece of fabric was from his waistband and as he turned to face Badan they slipped down around his ankles.
Both men stopped.
“I give up.”
“WHAT?!”
“I am unarmed, and , heh…you clearly have unsheathed your hidden weapon.”
“BAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!” The Stranger bellowed out as the blood continued to pour from his broken nose.
“Maybe I won’t kill you funny man.” He reached out to Badan, extending a hand which Badan accepted, standing up and greeting him.
“I’m Badan.”
“Gunthry. You broke me fuckin’ nose”
“Sorry about that.”
“S’okay.” Gunthry grabbed his nose and snapped it mostly back into place. He exhaled through it then inhaled once more. “All better now.”
“So…care to tell me why you attacked me?” Badan asked.
“To be honest…ye can’t trust anyone can ye? Everybody has to lookout for hisself. Like I said, kill me or I kill you…” Badan looked at Gunthry with pause, “eh, at least it’s normally like that. You hear stories about people out here. Wild bands of savages roaming all round. There ain’t exactly a place for folks to be safe, is there? Every time people get together, someone bigger takes them out.”
“There aren’t many bigger than you or I.”
“That is true.”
“Can we agree to peace amongst us?”
“Aye” Gunthry extends his hand outward to Badan.
“Um…care to put that away first?” Badan gestures to Gunthry’s swaying weapon before them.
“BAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Gunthry looked around until he found the fallen fabric that kept his trousers up and put himself into a more decent state. “Now, as ye were saying, there aren’t many bigger than ye an me eh?”
“Something like that.”
V. Returns
“And from that moment, we have made all of this” Badan gestures towards the habitat. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with defending yourself when there is no other choice, but sometimes there is another choice. I’m glad we made that choice my friend.” Badan extends his hand outward towards Gunthry.
“Ye bastard.” Gunthry takes his hand and pulls him in for a large embrace.
“Now, we feast!” Badan announced through laughter as Gunthry hug turned into a wrestle and before long they were having a friendly tussle in honor of their friendship and their first battle so many years ago. Yavin after grabbing his cut of meat sat beside Baku, G’an’n and Cora.
“I’m proud of you little man.” Yavin offered.
“Thanks Yavin.” Baku responded looking upon Yavin with joy.
“Yeah, you little puke.” G’an’n prodded his younger brother.
“Shut up.”
“I’m just messin’ with ya”
“I don’t care. Shut up.” Baku looked at G’an’n with a look so cold that is instantly shut him down.
“I didn’t mean anything by it” G’an’n offered weakly.
“You two are brothers. You should be kind to one another.” Cora interjects. “And Yavin, you need to stop encouraging G’an’n so much. You’re part of the problem too. You need to be adults.”
Cora after saying her peace got up and went grab her own portion of food and joined the other members of the tribe.
Baku looked off in the distance, the words not even entering his head as Yavin and G’an’n actually reflected on the words they were just given.
“She’s right. We have to grow up.” Yavin patted G’an’n on the shoulder as he stood up. “I’m gonna go find Dreanna, you good?”
G’an’n sat there as he thought to himself. He nodded at Yavin as he walked away to find Dreanna. As he continued to sit there silently as his thoughts intruded on him, about how he needed to grow up and be an adult. That he needed to stop playing games and actually contribute. G’an’n knew he didn’t have a glorious kill of such a beast as his younger brother now had. He was in fact jealous of his brother. He wanted nothing more to have the admiration of the tribe like he saw Baku receive, but when the moment came for him, it was not a Saber, it was a Giant Nandi. There was no shame that he could not take it down. He did in fact try, but he needed Dhiig, Farin and Badan to take it down and save him from being its meal. His hunt was successful, but no one toasted to him. No one sung his praises. It was just another hunt. Yes, he was accepted as a man of the Bone Herd, but he never felt he was. He wanted to prove it, he always wanted to prove it and tonight he decided that he would.
VI. The Quest of Remembrance
G’an’n observed the celebration, he was completely alone and everyone else was seemingly occupied. Even Poli was off playing with wolfpup. This was his moment. No more being thought less of. No more being a joke. No more being an afterthought. He would become someone to the tribe. He sneaked away and grabbed a spear and a small round wooden shield and made his way out of the front entrance. Even the sentries had abandoned their post as times had been peaceful ever since the Patac battle from several years back had been resolved. The Bone Herd had gotten comfortable in their lot, they had not been on the defensive in a long time. Even food was bountiful as of late. Things were going well for the tribe, G’an’n, on the other hand did not feel these gifts, he felt he was a detriment to everyone and aimed to prove himself wrong.
As he exited the front gate a gust of wind blew hard and fast stopping him in his tracks, almost as if to warn him not to go on, but go on he did. He pushed his right foot forward, then his left, and then it was as though he never stopped.
“G’an’n the fearsome!” he thought to himself.
No, that wouldn’t work. “G’an’n the Great!”
No. Too easy.
As he pushed into the darkness and the unknown, there wasn’t a sound of anything beyond the crunching of the snow beneath his feet. He had wandered into the pitch black forest by himself, far from the safety of the confines of the walls of bone that created the enclosure for the Bone Herd.
G’an’n found himself in a clearing from the tree line. He stopped walking and observed his surroundings. He was alone. There wasn’t another living soul out there. He looked up to the starlit sky as tears streamed down his face.
“IT’S NOT FAIR!” he screamed to the stars above him as he collapsed onto his knees. He sobbed for a moment to himself as he fell forward and held himself up with his hand.
“No…it’s not.” He heard come from behind him, a slithery voice that gave him chills.
G’an’n was scared as he fell onto his back and crawled backwards away from the voice he heard. When he looked up he couldn’t make out much other than he was covered in black furs and his skin was pale. His face was covered by the skull of a man. He was crouched down observing G’an’n, seemingly amused. He slowly rose to his feet. He wasn’t a large man, no, in fact he was barely larger than Yavin, but his presence loomed large. He imposed on his surroundings.
G’an’n knew fear. He recognized the man. He didn’t know his name nor his face, but he knew him. He was one of the people who made his family orphans. He was one of the men on horses who destroyed his home and left everyone for dead, or so they thought. G’an’n and his siblings would have died too if not for a secret underground hiding spot his parents had made up. The man was not fearful in the same sense of the Nandi he once faced which was primal, in it for survival…there was something about this man that was colder than any wind or snow, blacker than any night. It was only when his back hit a tree did G’an’n realize that he dropped his weapon and the man was standing above it.
The man looked down at the spear realizing that G’an’n was helpless.
“It’s not fun this way.”
He kicked the spear over to G’an’n.
It fell right in front of his feet. For a moment he hesitated, the fear overcoming him. Why would he give him his weapon? The man had weapons, but they were in his belt. He was unarmed. It didn’t matter to G’an’n. He knew the moment he met this figure, that only one of them would walk out of here.
G’an’n stood tall. Proud in the moment. He pushed down his fear and found the courage inside him that he always knew he had. He gripped the spear with both hands and thrust forward with the tip trying to pierce through the body of the man before him. Each strike with the spear was expertly done, G’an’n under the adrenaline of the moment became the best warrior he had ever been in his life, he was lost in the moment in a dance between life and death, but with every strike he made, the man had almost effortlessly dodged. Some came close to finding their target, and in fact one would find the target. G’an’n had managed to strike the face of the man, or rather, the bone skull covering his face. He broke off a piece of the cheekbone from the skull and the spear cut through the mans ear eliciting a grown of pain as the man gained some distance between himself and G’an’n.
“Oowwwwwwwooooooooo” the man howled, but it wasn’t so much a howl of pain as it was a howl, as if to rouse the pack.
G’an’n stood his ground, bracing for the man to begin his attack. He was slightly winded, but he did have youth on his side. Whereas he told himself the man was older than he and carried many scars, he would walk out victorious and tell of the story of how he killed the man in black.
As he readied to defend himself the man stopped and paced back and forth.
“It’s been a while since someone gave me the warm embrace. I’ll tell you what. One time offer. Come with me. I won’t kill you. Before they arrive. It’s your only chance.”
The words rang through G’an’n’s head as he pondered what he meant. How could he join him? He knew this was not a good man. And who was coming?”
“They’re almost here. Time’s almost up.”
“No! I can’t!”
The man signed in exasperation as he shook his head in obvious disappointment. It was then that a group of five others in similar attire as the man covered in black furs and skull covering his face arrived and surrounded them.
“I tried to save you kid. Now it’s too late.”
“I’m no kid. I am G’an’n of the Bone Herd! And I will defend my home against you!”
G’an’n charged once more, thrusting the spear with expert precision once more, but it was not good enough. The man had dodged the blow, stepped aside while grabbing the weapon and breaking it in two. He held onto the broken tip of the spear in his left hand, turned it and plunged it into G’an’n’s side.
As they stood there in that moment, this dance of death was fast coming to its conclusion. G’an’n gasped as blood shot down his chin and spilled onto the man’s face.
“…it’s…not…fair…” he weakly got out.
“It never is.” The man pulled the spear out of G’an’n’s side and embraced him.
G’an’n had tears streaming from his eyes. He didn’t want to believe this was his final moment, that each breath was becoming more laborious, that his blood was escaping and his body was slowly becoming numb.
The man had laid G’an’n down against the tree he had previously backed into then sat beside him.
“I want you to know, G’an’n of the Bone Herd, I will remember you. Your name will be remembered by each of us here. We honor your spirit.”
“G’an’n! G’an’n! G’an’n!” The group surrounding them chanted.
G’an’n again looked up at the starlit sky. He saw his breath rise above into the heavens. Escaping him for the final time.
The man stood up and turned away from his men. He took off the skull and had tears running down his face. He took the moment to remember G’an’n. Their battle. The gift he had received. It was as though all the coldness that he personified was gone, in this unseen moment his humanity had broken through the veil into the world of reality. He exhaled and steadied himself as he reattached his skull fixture to his face.
“You know I never wish to kill.”
The group remains silent but nods.
“But you know that when I kill…” the man walks around the group, patting them on their shoulders “…I am giving them the greatest gift. We are giving them the warm embrace of blood and death.”
They stand in a circle looking at their leader for a long moment. Before taking their leave each one walks over to G’an’n’s body and leaves a memento to honor him. And then they are gone to the darkness of night. All that remains is G’an’n and the twisted trinkets adorning his body.
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