A Short Story by Gav Thorpe (part 1)
almost 9 years ago – Tue, Feb 09, 2016 at 02:46:55 PM

Throughout the campaign, we will be giving you an original short story written by Gav Thorpe, titled, "A Fistful of Dirt".  This multi-part story will be included in its entirety in the rulebook, but you can read it here first - it will give you a great flavor for the world and the "Personalities" it contains.

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A Fistful of Dirt

A Parallax short story by Gav Thorpe

Birdsong and a shift in the wind woke Vidius. The black-furred cayad rose swiftly from his bedroll, alert, eyes scanning the small clearing dappled by the first rays of the sun. His nostrils flared to detect the slightest alarming scent on the breeze. He smelt Orcus before he saw him. The war pack’s sentry squatted on a rock not far away, eyes sweeping the forest, ears pricked, tail twitching. Sensing his Prime awake, Orcus turned a long-muzzled face toward his leader. He slowly nodded in greeting.

“Virbius! Letum!” Vidius kicked the other cayads’ slumbering forms. “Bellona!”

Sniffing and growling, the war pack roused at their Prime’s command. They strapped sharp dewblades to their forearms and dragged on pauldrons and broad belts.

“No time to for lounging lose, we have far to run today,” Vidius told them as he moved into the bushes to empty his bladder. He worked his way from one tree to the next, marking each. This land was no-bounds by tradition but there was no harm in taking it for the tribe.

Completing his circle of the camp he allowed himself a moment’s solitude, enjoying the space away from his tribe-kin. It was also good that they could not see the shake that trembled his limbs when he thought of the task at hand. A great duty, but he had never been so far from the tribe before.

A snarl from Bellona brought him running back to the others. Her hackles were up, fangs bared. The others responded likewise, catching the same scent, their ears flattened with fear, eyes wide. Someone approached.

A feline smell.

They turned west as one and bunched together, forming a tight line across the centre of the clearing.

The sicarius emerged from the trees, three of them appearing suddenly from the green and shadow. Yellow eyes glittered in the dawn gloom, sparks of residual magic fading as they neared. Vidius swallowed a nervous pant and stared down the approaching warriors.

They were about the same height as the cayads, though they stood straighter. Two wore greaves, vambraces and breastplates – more metal armour than Vidius had ever seen in one place. They seemed identical, their dark grey manes and skin streaked and mottled the same. The third was clad in hardened leather dotted with hexagonal studs. Her arms were bare, revealing an intricate tattoo of green and red knot patterns that weaved from wrist to shoulder like sleeves.

They wore swords at their hips – short stabbing gladii with triangular blades. All three carried longbows, a barb-headed arrow nocked to each, half-drawn.

Were there only three? Vidius could not move his eyes away from the strangers though he craved to check to the left and right. He had to trust Letum and Orcus were wary on the flanks.

For several long breaths the two warbands looked at each other. The tails of the cayads sagged;, the sicarius twitched their whiskers in agitation.

“You are from the Blood-That-Runs-Swift?” Her voice was soft, restrained. There was something strange but entrancing about the way she rolled her ‘r’s. The female lowered her bow slightly. “I am Ersa, lair-warden of Mau Arrer. These are my lair-watch, Kalkas and Sithon.”

“There are no more of you?” said Vidius.

“A scout party, no more, as was agreed by our leaders.”

“Good.” Vidius relaxed a little. “I am Vidius. These others... They are my war-pack. Their names are not important. You know where the pools lie?”

“I do,” said Ersa. She flicked a glance at her companions, who turned and disappeared into the greenery. “Follow us.”

*****