The air was frigid, and it howled through the branches of the towering evergreens. Snow covered grounds grew darker as the sun began to set upon the land. Wildlife was scarce, the occasional arctic hare scurried along the edge of the forest looking for its burrow. A snowy owl swoops down and snatches the rabbit within its talons, a pitiful squeak echoed out upon the otherwise silent forest.
When Nedai finally came to, he was alone and disoriented. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. He looked around and saw nothing but endless expanses of snow and ice. The bitter cold was almost too much to bear, and he could feel his fingers and toes going numb. Though he pushed himself and started moving. The wind howled through the trees as Nedai trudged through the snow, his fur-lined cloak flapping behind him. The sun had set hours ago, and the only light came from the moon and stars overhead. He had been out in the cold for days, and his supplies were running low. His goal was simple: survive the elements and make it home. Nedai knew he had to keep moving if he was going to survive. He searched for shelter, but the snow was too deep, and the trees provided little protection from the bitter cold. He pushed on, his breath fogging in the air in front of him. He could feel the cold seeping into his bones, and he knew he had to find warmth soon. As he walked, Nedai remembered the lessons his mother had taught him. He searched for any signs of life, but the cold had driven all the animals away.
Days turned into weeks, and the harsh cold began to take a toll on Nedai's body. But he never lost sight of his goal. He knew that his survival was not only about proving his worth, but it was also about protecting his loved ones. As the weeks went by, Nedai began to feel the toll that the harsh conditions were taking on his body. He was losing weight, and his hands and feet were constantly cold. But he refused to give up. He knew that his survival depended on his ability to stay strong and focused.
One day, as he was crossing a frozen lake, Nedai heard a loud crack. He knew that the ice was about to break, and he quickly tried to make it to the other side. But it was too late. The ice gave way, and Nedai plunged into the freezing water. He managed to grab onto a piece of ice and pull himself out, but he was soaked to the bone and shivering uncontrollably. Nedai knew that he had to find shelter and build a fire to warm himself up. He quickly gathered some dry wood and built a fire, but his wet clothes were making it difficult for him to stay warm. He realized that he would have to take off his clothes and dry them by the fire, even if it meant exposing himself to the harsh elements. Nedai stripped off his wet clothes and huddled by the fire, waiting for them to dry. It was the most difficult thing he had ever done, but he knew that he had to do it if he wanted to survive. The fire slowly dried his clothes, and he was finally able to put them back on and warm himself up.
A few more days went by before the 'ker decided to keep moving forward with his journey. Supplies were running low and he needed to keep himself active. As he trekked through the snow he found numerous traps and pools of ichor. Steel bolts embedded into trees, chains and traps littered the forest floor. "Poachers..." the 'ker whispered to himself with distaste. A scowl formed on his face as the vein like tattoos slowly cascaded down his countenance. He fashioned together a crude dagger made of stone and followed their trail as the moon began to rise.
Nedai crept through the dark, snow-covered forest, his senses on high alert. He knew he was getting closer to the poachers' campsite, and he could hear the sound of their laughter and the sharp cracks of their crossbows in the distance. The moon was hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds, casting the forest into complete darkness. Nedai moved slowly, feeling his way through the trees, using his heightened senses to detect any signs of danger. He could see their campsite now, a small clearing with a few tents and a fire pit. The poachers were gathered around the fire, drinking and boasting about their kills, completely unaware of the danger that lurked in the shadows. Nedai drew his crude stone dagger, feeling its weight in his hand. He took a deep breath, then charged forward, his dagger glinting in the firelight. The poachers turned, startled by the sudden attack, but the Arvellon was determined. He slashed and stabbed with fierce determination, moving from one target to the next with brutal efficiency. The poachers were caught off guard, but they were also skilled fighters, and they quickly regrouped and began to fight back. Crossbow bolts whistled past the 'ker's head, and he dodged them as best he could. Nedai fought with all the strength he had, but the poachers were relentless. One of them swung a heavy mace at him, and he dodged the blow by the skin of his teeth. He spun around, lashing out with his crude stone dagger, and managed to wound his attacker. But another poacher was already moving in, swinging a heavy ax at Nedai's head. Nedai dodged the blow, but he knew he couldn't keep this up forever. He was bleeding from several wounds, and he could feel his strength beginning to wane. The forest was alive with the sound of steel clashing against steel and the grunts of men locked in deadly combat. The fire cast flickering shadows over the scene, adding to the sense of chaos and danger. Nedai fought on, using his wits and his survival instincts to stay one step ahead of his attackers. He felt another sharp pain as a crossbow bolt grazed his shoulder, but he pushed through the pain and managed to take down another poacher. In the end, Nedai was the last one standing, but he was battered and bruised. He looked around at the carnage he had wrought and felt a sense of satisfaction. He had taken lives, but he knew that he had done what he needed to survive. As he stumbled away from the clearing, he wondered what other horrors the forest held in store for him, and whether he would be strong enough to face them. The night seemed to stretch on forever, and every shadow held the potential for danger. He moved through the forest with a sense of urgency, knowing that he needed to find safety before it was too late.
After the brutal battle with the poachers, Nedai stumbled away from the scene, his side searing with pain. He knew that he needed to tend to his wounds before he could even think about making the journey back home. With shaking hands, Nedai pulled off his cloak and examined the wound in his side. It was deep and bloody, and he knew that it would require careful attention if he was going to avoid infection. Using his own clothing as bandages, Nedai worked to staunch the bleeding. He winced in pain as he applied pressure to the wound, but he knew that he had to be thorough if he wanted to avoid further injury. Once he had wrapped his side tightly, he took a moment to rest and gather his strength. The night was quiet around him, and he could hear the sounds of the forest stirring in the darkness. Despite the danger that surrounded him, Nedai felt a sense of calm wash over him. He knew that he was alive, and he was grateful for that. As the night wore on, Nedai continued to tend to his wounds, using the limited supplies he had to clean and dress the wound as best he could. He knew that he needed to be in good shape if he was going to make it back home.
Finally, as the first light of dawn began to break through the trees, the 'ker rose to his feet and began the long journey back to The Vale. The pain in his side was still sharp, but he was determined to make it home. As he stumbled through the forest, Nedai felt a sense of gratitude for the skills he had learned during his journey. And as he thought of the warm embrace of his loved ones waiting for him at home, Nedai felt a sense of hope and determination that carried him through the long and difficult journey back to The Vale.
After several days of rest and recovery, Nedai felt strong enough to continue his journey back home to The Vale. Despite the physical pain and trauma he had endured, he felt a renewed sense of purpose and determination. With each step, he felt his connection to nature grow stronger. The sound of the wind rustling through the trees, the scent of pine needles and fresh earth, and the sight of the stars twinkling above him all served to remind him of his place in the world. As he journeyed through the forest, he encountered many challenges, but his time spent surviving in the wilderness had taught him how to overcome them. He navigated treacherous ravines and slippery cliffs, fought off wild beasts and avoided dangerous predators. Through it all, he remained focused on his goal of returning home to his loved ones. His mind was filled with thoughts of his family, his partner, and the community that awaited him in The Vale. He longed for the familiar comforts of home, the warmth of a fire, and the embrace of his loved ones. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the forest and saw the familiar outline of The Vale in the distance. His heart swelled with joy and relief as he approached the village, knowing that he had overcome incredible obstacles to make it back to where he belonged.
As he reached the bridge of his settlement, he stumbled and leaned against the railing. Labored breathes and a shaky view was all that was left before he could close the distance. While his wounds were crudely treated, their pain still overcame his senses. "Just a few more steps.." he would think to himself, his legs weakly holding his form up. He took a moment to gather himself before taking another step.. then another.. up until he reached the rooted gates of his home. Placing his fingers in-between the cracks of the roots, his forehead against the gate, he had finally done it.
Home, at last.
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The Arvellon would look over the missive with a sigh. "Suppose the valah are getting too old anyways..." he would murmur. Perhaps a bit skeptical that anyone could fill in the prior kings shoes.