Sunday, February 1, 2009
Slaughtering the Marshes (second post)

The grizzled Gonding opened his mouth to yawn, shut it with fits of coughing as he inhaled wind-blown dust, choking and pounding his chest as he slumped to the ground. He wondered why there is too many dust floating in the air, on a windy day on a forest with coarse loose soil, looking wet and healthy as if fresh from rain. His nose told him that it hasn’t rained for days. Too old for his position and his duty, and maybe for his nose, the old Gonding take considerable effort in lifting the branding iron from the make-up forge, dug on the ground as is kept hot by layers of coal, and made visible wince everytime hot sparks meet flesh. Old age has also dimmed his wit, making obvious mistakes that should have not been made had he had the quick wit he has had when he was younger. Red-eyed and catching his breath, he scanned the camp for officers that might have noticed his slack, saw none, not with the number of trees obscuring him from the main gathering in the camp, and sighed audibly. Sometimes Gonding officials are not too forgiving with mistakes, not from an old fellow with grizzled hands and failing eyesight. He straightened from his slump beside the forge a considerable distance from the bustle of the camp, far enough for the rest of the Gonding’s nose and ears but close enough for the scouts up in the trees to give warning, and reached for the tongs from the hot coal, the third since midday, and probably the last. It has been years since his service was called upon and no amount of alibi can convince his recruiters that he is past age and could no longer work with tongs, not in these times of trouble they say. Despite the heat of the metal, and the smell of burned flesh, he grinned as he moved closer to the spread-eagled Naguk,a rat-faced creature with eyes wide with fear, hands and feet struggling to pull freefrom the ropes that left him danglingtwo spans from the ground.

He moved closer to the Naguk with a wicked smile, blowing the hot branding iron and wiping the sweat that glistened on his forehead. His hands reached for the red band tying his hair, untying the simple knot he made on it earlier this morning. His instructions were clear – inspire fear but do not hurt the Naguk officer, marked by the three deep slashes on his bald head. He can kill the two Naguk soldiers still tied spread-eagled at the trees beside the officer, just within his line of sight to ensure that he sees his fate from his men's screams. At whim. But his skill is not meant to kill. To maim, yes, and maybe to scare, but he could not force his gut to kill anyone, even the cross-eyed two-footer Naguk.

The Gonding is a very sensitive race. In their Natural form, they look like grizzled men with broad shoulders, even the women are broad and fat to allow them to bear up to five children in one conception. Men and women have gray hairs, unusually long, and have long faces. Those who can transform to the Higher form resemble wolves set to hunt - thick hair covers the body, sights, scents, and smell enhanced, and movement can be as fast as wolves can. Unlike wolves, they do not have sharp teeths to bite enemies down, which is a good thing because he is not a wolf. not yet.

His smile turned from cruel to grim as he moves the tongs above the head of the Naguk, heat touched the skin of the Naguk's head andthe creature’s thrashing abruptly stopped.A snarl formed in the Naguk's lips, eyes never leaving the white hot iron brand a hand away from his head. Two of the Naguk's soldiers have been unconscious already, a cruel burned patch on the bald head of one while the other has his scalp burned deeper, exposing white skull beneath flesh and blood, and hair.

“No chance he’d talk?”

Green mails on one hand while the other held a piece of cloth, Kirmin made it to within ten paces without a sound. The newcomer placed his mail down, pulling thefoot-long daggerfrom his back, placingthem on the groud as well. Kirmin's presence surprised him as much as it surprise him knowing that he did not notice the presence of the Nadini. Not that he expected he would make one, not with the howling wind. Besides, hunters just don’t make a sound unless they want to be heard, yet Kirmin’s sudden presence made him flinch.

“One is almost dead, barely have the strength to take in air, the other one, I made sure his movements will be badly affected unless his friend here talks.” Nodding towards the Naguk officer, he slowly lowered the tongs towards the top of the head of the suspended little man. The little man didn’t flinch, he noted, but eyes filled with rage now burned with hatred.

Kirmin nodded and leaned casually on the tree that held the Naguk. Away from the officer's line of sight.

“You would not want to end up dead, do you?" Motioning the old Gonding to hold the tongs in place. "Or your soldiers here".

The captive tried to look at Kirmin's way but his neck could only stretch as far. Besides, the big trunk obscured his view and any bobbing would definitely have his head in contact with the branding iron.

Posted by Armien John Samson 2009-02-01 20:14:19

Sunday, February 1, 2009
Slaughtering the Marshes (First Post)

Round and round the wind goes around the earth, disappearing on the horizon only to appear again somewhere ahead. The wind carries the heat and the heat moves the waters, and the heat that moves in the water balances the coldness of the deep. And waters changed the face of the earth. Water becomes air and air becomes wind taking another cycle around the earth, until it touches another land, transforming it painfully slow. The land has changed but the cycle remains.At one part of the cycle, wind howledwith rage on a particularly sunny morning, dimming the sky with dark clouds coming from thetheeast, where the Sea of Solami lay a good ten miles froma small clearing in the thick forest.

The winds howled with rage and the trees bent towards where the wind blew, never in one direction. Dead twigs snapped from branches and leaves left the trees in great mass. Leaves flew and branches snap, even the big ones, as the trees whipped the canopy, showing five or six men clad in green mails made of nets, instead of iron, some wearing deep green shawls to hide themselves in the dense canopy, ducking low or pushing themselves against big trunks, never moving more than necessary but eyes continually searching the thick forest for any movements not caused by the wind. Fifty paces below each men are boys half Kahluah’s age, but three times his height when standing straight, watch the Gonding on their bellies in thick bushes, lwaiting at nothing else but the hand signals from themen in the trees. Working in fours, the boys are armed with foot-long daggers tucked neatly on their backs, barefooted and ready to jump at the slightest hand signal from those in the trees watched in silence.

The strong winds did not bother Kahluah as he scanned the trees twenty feet directly above him, noting the positions of the Gonding and at the same time keeping an eye on the other watchers spread on the west side of the camp. The wind is blowing against his face sending him the smell of burned flesh from the camp two hundred paces from his position, screams of pain drifted with the wind too . He wrinkled his nose and moved deeper into the shadows of the tree trunk. Obscured by the shade of the hollow, the rat-faced Naguk puts on his goggles and moved slowly towards the inside of the tree. Only about two foot when standing straight, Kahluah has no problems staying away from the sharp eyes of the lookouts, more so moving from one place to another, the very reason why he was chosen by the Guild to observe.

Convinced that the Gonding did not notice his presence, Kahluah transformed to his Higher form, human muscles shrinking, visibly moving towards hands and feet at the same instant his leg and arms became bones attached with rough flesh. His chest puffed larger, pushing every organ in his body towards the cavity in it as his stomach shrank as if starved for a month, shortening his tail for about two hands. His face contorted as well, moving muscles passing through his eyelids budged his eyes, as if to pop, but then moved flatly in the forehead, reinforcing the natural muscles. The transformation took only an instant but the process seems too slow for him, even deadly should he be caught by surprise. With an effort not to wince in pain, Kahluah strained to listen to his surroundings, hoping that the howling wind was able to cover the sound of his transformation. Nothing stirred. He felt the same though he know he look different from his Natural form. The breeze felt light on his skin and the sound of the leaves above him did not changed a bit. A good sign. He waited longer to move to make sure nothing has noticed his transformation. Nothing.

Pushing his naked body on the far side of the hollow, he felt his way to the soft earth he came from. In his Higher form, Kahluah is blind, even with the goggles, but his other senses are enhanced, as with other Nadini, ordinary creatures that have the ability to manipulate their body to specific forms determined by their race, acquired through various means. He was able to recognize his at ten years old with his father's guidance. Feeling his fingers, making sure that they are as strong as they should be, Kahlua dug the earth in front of him and pushed himself inside a small opening, arms dragging the body in the small hole, squeezing his small frame into it with ease. With the last effort to have his whole body inside, he pushed soil up the whole where he came from and started moving into his tunnel. The Gonding scouts did not notice a small bump in the ground moving away from the tree trunk as the wind blew even harder.

Posted by Armien John Samson 2009-02-01 12:17:36