User blog:CapMARVELOUS/Downfall Preview 001

K O

A snowfall was coming. Of that, Norn was certain. He could see it in the clouds that shadowed his view of the horizon, hanging so low it seemed as if one could touch them. As the old phrase went, “Low clouds bring white grounds.”

The Ko-Matoran Lord of the Hunt lifted a fist, halting the progress of the hunting party. One by one, they ceased their trudging. Some muttering broke out between a few of the hunters, wondering why exactly Norn had stopped them. Snowfall had never been a problem for them before, so they did not understand why it would be now.

“Einthor!” Norn called, summoning his lieutenant forward. A younger Ko-Matoran wearing a white Akaku stepped forth from the rear of the pack, crouching atop a stone next to the Lord.

“What can you see, Einthor?” Norn asked quietly.

In reply, Einthor shadowed his brow, peering out into the distance as far as his Kanohi would allow him, which was quite far. He was renowned across the Ko-Matoran territories for having the furthest and most accurate observational range of any Akaku wearer on Metru Nui; as such, some folk called him Farsight, others Cloudreader. “What I can see is a blizzard coming,” he replied. “The clouds are too low, too thick, for it to be anything else.”

Norn sighed. A blizzard would hamper their progress even more than it already was.

“It starts picking up steam around Belkadan’s Ridge,” Einthor continued, pointing to the portion of the mountain range in question. “At the rate it’s approaching, and at the rate we’re traveling, we’ll get caught in it right about… there.”  He pointed to another spot on the range, one that was pockmarked with caves. “Which is about where we’ll end up come nightfall.”

“At least we’ll have shelter,” Norn mumbled. “Thank you, Einthor. Your eyes are always appreciated.”

“No problem,” Einthor said, and returned to the rest of the hunters, Norn’s gaze following him. He liked Einthor, and was glad that he was as efficient at reading clouds and discerning storms as he was.

He turned around to address the rest of the hunting party, who had begun to grow antsy. They looked expectantly at him.

“A blizzard is coming,” he said. “Einthor has told me that it will hit us by nightfall. We make for those caves there-” he pointed at the cluster of caves- “and set up shelter until the storm passes. We may end up having to spend the night.”

This announcement was met with some grumbling, particularly from those who had started muttering when first they stopped. It was clear that they did not approve of the idea of having to spend another night in the elements. Norn picked each grumbler out; the most vocal were the new hunters. They had better get used to the idea of staying out here, he thought.

“Forward,” he called, making a goading gesture. Reluctantly, the hunting party trudged on.

The Ko-Matoran had made it into the caves, and taken up shelter inside a particularly large and deep one. A fire crackled near the front, providing some degree of warmth; several hunters huddled around it. Outside, the blizzard howled, occasionally tossing gusts into the cave that threatened to put the fire out.

At the cave’s mouth, Norn stood gazing into the wall of darkness, snow, and wind, next to Einthor and another hunter, Vagnus. The latter two were discussing their next course of action.

“All I’m saying is, it’d be pointless for us to carry on any longer,” Vagnus was saying. “This blizzard’s just the first one; it’s the herald of the Season of Deepcold. And all the Rahi will have fallen asleep or gotten well away from here because of it. Leaving nothing for us to hunt. We should go home.”

“We can’t go home!” Einthor protested. “Never once has a hunting party returned to its city emptyhanded!”

Vagnus scoffed. “Never once has a hunting party set out this close to the Season of Deepcold,” he said.

Einthor blushed. “Regardless, we have to go home with at least something!” he said. “The city’s depending on us to bring back meat and furs! And we’ve always delivered!”

“We’ve also always acknowledged when it was time to give up on something pointless, lad,” Vagnus muttered around the pipe he was trying to light. “Face it: we’ve been out here, in this same part of the mountains, for a week, and we’ve found nothing worth bringing back. Absolutely nothing, aside from a couple of malnourished gukko.”

“Which is better than nothing!”

“Which is worse than nothing.”  Vagnus took a pull on his pipe.

Norn had been quiet for the duration of Einthor and Vagnus’ argument, but in the silence offered by the former’s flustered silence, he interjected himself into the conversation. “You two both have good points, but you forget that your opinions are not the final decision. I’m in charge of that.”  He offered a meaningful look to Vagnus, whose eyes dipped back down to his pipe. Norn resumed, in a louder voice so that all could hear. “We continue the hunt for one more day, and if we find nothing by the end of it, then we go home, and make do with what we have.”

Surprisingly, this statement was met with less grumbling than he’d been expecting; sentiments had likely been softened after the fire had been lit. Warm fires did tend to also warm the soul.

Norn returned to the circle of hunters around the fire and ordered another one to accompany Gro, the hunter who was currently probing the depths of the cave. One of the newer additions, one Selja, offered her assistance; grabbing her long-handled axe and removing an alight branch from the fire, she scurried off toward the rear of the cave, to catch up with Gro. For his part, Norn sat down on the seat that Selja had previously occupied, next to Baldr and Haldr. The Twins, they were called; the only distinguishing feature between them was the chipped left cheek fin on Haldr’s Kakama.

Of a sudden, a strange sound filled the cave, followed soon after by a noise that sounded like several strangled screams. Then it was silent, save for an odd rumbling. Norn’s hackles rose, and his grip on his spear tightened. Around him, several other hunters also reached for their weapons.

Selja came hurtling out from the back of the cave, torch abandoned, a look of abject fear on her face. “It got Gro,” she stammered. “It got Gro.”

“What got Gro?” Norn asked.

As if in response, the strange sound came again, much louder this time. It had a definite bestial timbre to it.

Slowly, Selja turned to face the darkness in the rear of the cave. Her hands shook.

“Muaka,” she whispered.

Through the blackness, a hulking shape lumbered forth, its features indistinct in the flickering firelight. As it drew nearer, certain things came into view: its catlike ears, its dark pelt, its paws heavy with chipped claws, its green eyes reflecting the campfire with a malicious glow. And dangling from its mouth…

Norn’s heart sank, and he almost gagged. Dangling from the muaka’s mouth were the half-eaten remains of Gro. His belly had been torn open, his guts had been lacerated, his legs had been chewed off, and he had died with a look of terror on his face to rival Selja’s. His one visible arm swung limply with every step the muaka took.

“Are we blind?!” Norn shouted. “Get it!”

As one, the Twins drew, nocked, and let fly several arrows, aiming for the beast’s face. Some met their mark, and the muaka roared in pain, dropping Gro’s remains. Other hunters darted around to its sides, stabbing and jabbing at it with their spears but failing to deeply pierce its hide. The stabbing only served to enrage the muaka further, and in retaliation it swung its mighty paws at the Ko-Matoran, knocking them against the cave walls, where they slumped.

One of the Twins’ arrows- Haldr’s, judging by the white shaft- made it into the muaka’s eye.

Mistake.

The muaka roared even louder and flew into a frenzy, no longer simply content with standing in one place and swiping at its assailants. It charged forth, trampling the two Ko-Matoran unfortunate enough to be standing directly in front of it. Its slavering jaws snapped at whoever was in its path, its paws swept and slashed the same. Several hunters only just managed to get out of reach, but others weren’t so lucky. Blood splattered the floor, pained screams rang out. Einthor’s cry in particular sounded loudest as the muaka’s claws scored a row of neat gashes across his chest.

Yet still they fought on.

Norn had an idea. It was crazy, it was improbable, and it was likely that it would fail, but it was an idea. Gripping his beloved spear tightly, the Lord of the Hunt aimed it carefully- no small task when the target was a giant, moving muaka- at one particular spot on its side, and let it fly with all his might. By the Great Scholar’s own luck, the spear sank into flesh, causing the beast to halt momentarily and let out another roar of fury and pain that threatened to bring down the cave.

“Selja!” he called, forming his hands into a foothold. “Jump!”

She met Norn’s eyes, and silently cottoned on to his plan. With a running start, long-handled axe in her grip, she leaped into his hands; he pushed her up to increase her jump height. She grabbed onto the spear dangling from the muaka’s side and used it to hoist herself up onto its back. The constant motion of the muaka made it extremely difficult for her to scale its side, but scale it she did.

Raising the axe above her head, Selja swung the blade down as hard as she could into the muaka’s neck.

The sound was enough to pierce eardrums. Through the beast’s horrible yowl, Norn gestured to Baldr and Haldr to fire another volley of arrows into its agape mouth. A flurry of black and white shafts sprouted from the muaka’s upper palate, and the Rahi began to sway. Selja now had even more trouble staying on.

“Vagnus! Throw your spear!” Norn commanded.

Though he was old, Vagnus was not weak. The force with which he hurtled his own spear into the muaka’s maw was enough for it to sink halfway down the handle; the blade had definitely pierced its brain.

The muaka’s eyes went dark, and it toppled forward, dead. The force of the floor clamping its jaws shut caused Vagnus’ spear to fully penetrate its skull. The blade and handle glistened with blood.

Selja tumbled to the floor of the cave, hard. Something snapped; the impact had broken her arm. She let out a cry of pain.

Aside from that, all was quiet. The shock of the fight and the utter relief that it was finished permeated the cave, and soon after, silent horror at the injuries and death that the muaka had inflicted on many of the hunters. Norn silently retrieved his spear from the muaka’s side, and silently offered a prayer to Mata Nui that those whose lives had been lost here would be welcomed with open arms into the stars.

On the other side of the carcass, Vagnus rushed to the side of a fallen Einthor. “I’ll- ah- I’ll be fine,” the latter moaned, clutching at the wounds on his chest.

“All that red on your coat begs to differ,” Vagnus quipped darkly. “Come on, let’s get you patched up. All the injured, come with me,” he added, gesturing to the pack of medical supplies he had dropped near the wall of the cave. A small cavalcade of red-stained hunters followed the old Ko-Matoran to receive treatment of their own.

Selja made to join them, but was stopped by Norn laying a hand on her uninjured shoulder. “Good job,” he said simply. The emotion in his voice was nonexistent; he was too tired to express properly.

“Uh… thanks. It was… it was no problem,” Selja replied, her voice quavering, still recovering from the ordeal.

Norn let her go, his eyes following her as she joined Vagnus and the others. Some vague feeling told him that this hunt would only be the start of a string of great deeds she would do. The small, insane part of his mind took that to its logical conclusion…

He was brought back to reality by the seemingly faraway sight of Vagnus’ spear sticking out of the muaka’s skull. This beast was dead, and by the size of it, it would definitely bring plenty of meat and warm pelts back to the city, not to mention nigh immeasurable glory to his pack. Not many could honestly say that they had killed a muaka.

But the glory would not be able to lift the heaviness in his heart. So many had died or been gravely wounded under his command. He had known some of the dead, liked them, even. They had friends, lovers, back home, who now would never see them alive again.

The mourning once they returned would be great.

He did not look forward to that.

Nobody ever did.