The Death of a R’ikarth

[Snow1770 247]

Deep in the woods of Elvenesse, where the Old growth trees were centuries old no doubt, the trees were spaced apart, giving each other room is seemed. Through these gaps massive creatures tread. As well as a single Ker, whose face was obscured by her mask, the rest of her body hidden in a similarly fashioned suit of plate and cloth. A style worn solely by the R’ikarth clan. She strode through the forest, a crossbow in hand, passing by a cave the entrance of which had a path leading out but was darkly shadowed by the overhang of the roof. She thought nothing of the cave and continued on, searching for a boar or perhaps a stag. She finally spied one after many moments of walking quietly through the trees. She took position and fired a bolt, it landed where she intended, her decades of skill never failing her. The Ker went to the carcass and began dressing it, her mind became lost to the task at hand. 

 

From the cave came a snuffling sound. One only produced from a great beast, it were a large lumbering beast. Out from the cave walked a massive Morko Bear. One hungry from the great cold sleep. It could smell the blood of something, it wasn’t sure what but it was sure it could eat whatever it were. Off it went, a great snuffling thing following the scent. Soon it came upon the R’ikarth, who seemed to have stilled, as it sensed the movement behind them, perhaps they had heard the leaves on the ground rustling as the bear approached. 

 

Fyre slowly stood and turned to face whoever had come up behind her, her honey yellow eyes widened behind her mask as she took in the sight of it. She had never seen a bear so large before. She did not know they could be so big. She reached for her crossbow to nock another bolt, but the bear’s paw swiped out knocking it from her hands and sending it flying a few yards away. She cursed, knowing her fate was sealed. 

 

The bear let out a thundering roar, one that would’ve been heard for miles. If any one had been around. The Ker flinched at the decible of it before turning to attempt to run, the bear took only a few lumbering lopes after her before smacking her down with a massive paw. It could feel her break beneath its weight, the plates compressing and bending as well. She did not scream, nor move after that. Help would never come. And so came the death and final hunt of Fyre R’ikarth. 

[Kumoko600 90]

[!] After days of searching Anerian would eventually happen upon the body. Wordlessly she would wrap a large cloth over the now decieced R'ikarth and take her niece back home, gaze stiff and grief stricken.

"What a rotten world this is," 

[ThatFunkyBunch 2036]

A Lutaumancer pushes herself up from the ash sea of Gundar Broshan. Lofting, from the ashes a simple lantern. So begins the Kers walk, to start searching section by section to help guide Fyre to Kors Gate.