LatzMomo

The snow was thick that morning and the wind was brutal, it felt as if it could cut your skin right off your body. Talim laid in the snow, unconscious, drugged, and defenseless, though not for long. Talim’s eyes suddenly jolted open, pain, though from where it was hard to tell, his senses were not working properly thanks to the drug. Talim scanned his body and quickly found a massive white tiger tugging at his right arm, it had meant to make a meal out of him. The Elf lurched his left arm forward and sent his fist to the neck of the beast. The striped creature cried out in pain and retreated to a safe distance. Talim shakily stood to his feet, the bag of seeds, the lapis and the bear femur fell into the snow, he hardly noticed save for when the femur dropped onto his toes.

 Talim scanned his surroundings for the threats, uttering an elven curse as he tried to identify targets, he counted six... no... he rubbed his eyes, now he counted three. The massive elf bent down to pick up the bear’s femur; it would serve as an excellent weapon against these beasts. Yet, as he bent down his knees buckled under his weight and he collapsed onto the ground. Crimson stained the white snow as he desperately clutched the femur, he could hear the tigers sprinting to him now and he had to get up, but he could not force his body to work. Talim launched a desperate attack from the snowy floor, but it found no purchase.. And yet Talim was not being torn to shreds, after a moment, he pushed himself up to his feet and looked around, he saw nothing, no beasts, at first he had thought it a hallucination of the drug, but the wounds from the attack remained.

Talim’s luck continued like this for the month, anything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Talim’s wound became infected and he became gravely ill, the snow blinded him and burnt his skin, every home he could find would be occupied by another, Talim was too sick to fight over the territory. The massive elf quickly lost weight, his once impressively muscled form began to dwindle along with his energy, the mal lived off of the occasional rabbit whenever he could manage to strike them with rocks. Stew was what he ate most nights, still his weight was already dropping dangerously quickly and wherever he could stop to build a shelter was where he got the few hours of sleep he could for the night. 

    Talim’s priority would be to return to health, he was in a desperate struggle right now, if he did too much or too little then it would undoubtedly result in his death. Talim first worked to sharpen the chunk of lapis he was given, yet the Elf even kept the shavings, nothing could go to waste now. He gathered a long stick and shaped it into a spear shaft and using a string made from his hair, he attached his spearhead to his weapon. Hunting rabbits became significantly easier with his newly crafted tool and he would slowly begin to regain some of his strength. Using clean water and various herbs, Talim’s infectious wound also began to subside, and it would heal in time. Still, he was vulnerable, weakened by the harsh environment and he knew just how fragile he was out there. Talim continued with extreme caution, he knew that he was not the apex predator of the snowy territory, and the creature who was made that very clear.

    That same tiger, now donning a bloody circle on its forehead seemed to loom, always in the distance, watching Talim, perhaps it was curious or unsure of exactly the threat Talim presented to it. Regardless of the tiger’s intentions, Talim always felt uneasy about its presence, even when he could not see it, Talim could feel it watching and observing him. Talim always proceeded with extreme caution and never put himself into a vulnerable enough position where he could not fight back should the tiger desire to strike. Looking to the distance, Talim spotted something that could be majorly helpful to his survival efforts, and as the snow became thicker and the winds grew louder, it was as if the aspects had wanted nothing more than for Tali’mordu to take advantage.

    A moose was exactly what Talim needed now, his health was recovering, and taking this beast down would ensure that it would continue in this direction for some time. The elf followed behind the moose, stalking as he had many times in the past, though he did not have the luxury of his paddfoot boots, he very quickly learned he had to keep a larger gap between him and his target. They hiked for miles, occasionally the moose would look back and Talim’s heart would sink, but it never seemed to spot him and continued unawares. Eventually, they stopped and as he peered through the snow he saw three more moose, though they weren’t even half the size of the first one. Talim trudged forth and threw out his spear, it embedded itself into the moose's neck and it ran for a few steps, but then quickly collapsed into the snow, crying out in pain, its young also crying out for their parent. Talim loomed over the young and in a hoarse voice that could barely be heard over the strong winds he said. “How tragic. The Wilds know ne honor.”

    A feast, it was Talim’s birthday, after all, give or take a few days, he was not exactly sure because the tallys he had drawn onto his shirt with lapis had begun to blend together. Talim started a fire immediately, using his makeshift shelter to shield the fire from the harsh winds, and as the meat cooked the Elf’s mouth began to water. As time passed, his stomach felt as if it was tightening. The blacksmith had so much food now, but he had run into another problem as he gorged on the meat. Talim was full but he was still hungry, it was a sensation he had never experienced before. Still, he could not help but smile, the moose would bring him so much, warm clothes, a waterskin, enough food to fully regain his health, and best of all, it would return his strength. 

    Outfitted now with new warm garments and best of all, a wonderful new moose fur hat, the blacksmith could venture out into the snow much farther from his shelters and for much longer. Soon the Elf’s strength would return to him and with that, he could finally force his way into the territory of another. The blacksmith approached the cave of a beast he had observed many times, it was the den of a wolf pack, he knew he didn’t need to kill them all, just make them decide it was not worth the risk.

WHOOSH as the elf struck his flint it sparked onto his torch and it immediately burst into flames, he brought himself into the dark cave, all was quiet and vision was obscured to an arm’s distance. Finally, a pair of eyes lit up in the darkness, then another, another, and finally the last pair, four wolves, he could do this, he took in a deep breath and backed up slowly, he would not allow himself to be surrounded. Tali’mordu retreated to the entrance of the cave, it was an excellent choke point where only one or two could slip through at a time and as they squeezed through he hurled a spear at one of them and it cried out in pain, limping away from the fight. The Elf drew his bone knife from a sheath around his neck and made himself appear large, arms outstretched as he yelled to the creatures. The Wolves surrounded the snow-covered elf now, slowly circling but keeping enough distance so they could run, they observed him intently and then they struck. One wolf jumped forth and bit on his arm, the force was so much that it caused Talim to turn his body with the attack, and then another bit down on his calf. The wolves had coordinated their attack well, but Talim was strong, he gritted his teeth through the pain and brought his knife into the neck of the one clamped onto his arm, dragging it along, it cried out and then fell limp. Tali’mordu turned to the one on his calf, but it had already retreated, the remaining two wolves decided it would be best not to risk their lives or waste any more energy on this endeavor.

    “Finally.” he said in a raspy voice, though it was more of a whisper, he had no reason to speak these past few months with nobody else around and so it sounded quite harsh. Tali’mordu was relieved, he was finally able to rest comfortably, the wind no longer kissed him at night and now he had pretty much everything he would need to not only survive in the wilds but thrive. Talim continued to feast on the three moose and he could feel his muscle returning to his form, still, he didn’t sit idle, he continued to hunt, forage and scavenge what he could. The tiger continued to stalk him, Talim could hardly even see it, but one thing always gave it away, the blood-painted circle on its forehead. Talim had figured the mark had saved his life at least a dozen times because that tiger was determined, it constantly observed Talim. The Elf respected that beast, it was a hunter, the same as him, it was studying him before it would make the kill and Talim knew that when it finally did choose to strike, it would be a battle.

    Things were significantly easier for Talim now though, he continued to hunt rabbits, elk, and moose. Talim had learned very quickly that he was not as skilled at sneaking as he had previously thought, his precious wonk skin boots had been coated in the oil of the paddfoot flower and compensated for his lack of skill. Out in the tundra, he didn’t have them, he had to learn how to sneak properly and he knew that the skill would make him even more deadly when he was finally reunited with his boots. Talim learned to climb as well, he had always left it to his friends in the Vale to climb trees for him, but now he was alone, it was another skill that would serve him well. He was beginning to learn so much now that he could not rely on others, he began to apply the lessons his mentor Ahng Gulr had taught him about alchemy and herbs, using them to benefit his life out in the harsh environment. Tali’mordu even crafted a rudimentary alchemy lab and a potion, flash powder as he was taught by his master, if it would work though, Talim had no clue.

    Talim continued to excel, he had learned many new skills and he had even built a forge from clay and began to smith, he started with a hammer, and then tongs. The smith did not stop with tools, weapons followed, and then even armor, it was not the fanciest work he had ever done, but it would serve him well. A daemonsteel blade at his hip and a steel breastplate lined with the leather of a great moose adorned his torso. The Elf had thought to make more armor, but ultimately he knew that too much metal would restrict his movement and eliminate any element of surprise he wished to gain. As the elf finished for the day, he looked to the mouth of the cave he had made his home, a red light shone through and it was intoxicating, Talim found himself entranced by it.

Talim wandered out the mouth of the cave, what normally would have been a snow-white mountainscape was now blood red, the entire world seemed red in fact, even the sky. Brightest of all was the moon, but something was wrong. Tali’mordu had seen blood moons before, but the moon was literally bleeding, the viscous liquid dropped down to the earth and pooled, and at his feet was the tiniest trickle of a blood river. The Elf, entranced by the resplendent moon followed after it, his thoughts could not seem to dwell past that brilliant moon. As Talim’s body followed along the river, he noticed he was not the only one who had been following along the path laid before them, the marked tiger’s eyes were locked onto the bleeding moon and it paced ten steps ahead of the Elf. It was hard to think, even when he tried to resist the pull of the moon, he found it was not possible to alter his course, his body would not stray the path. As the Elf traversed the blood river it grew thicker, the waters rushed harshly. Talim had been walking for weeks at this point, and curiously, he had not once grown hungry or thirsty, as the days passed by he could feel himself growing closer and closer to his destination.

The moon was so big now that it covered the entire sky, the sound of the blood falling from its wound was deafening, Talim had reached his destination. The cave before the Elf was massive, the doors opened at the arrival of the tiger and him, and within was a massive deposit of glacial kuila. As the doors closed behind the duo the spell seemed to break, the tiger turned about and roared out while the Elf drew the daemonsteel blade from his hip and readied himself. The tiger sprinted forth at the warrior and then pounced out at Talim, and though he braced for this, the force was overwhelming and it knocked the Elf to his back. Struggling on the floor, the beast fought with tooth and claw, and the Elf’s blood leaked to the cave floor. Talim struck the Tiger in the eye with his flash powder potion, it stunned the beast for a moment, he used that opening to throw it off his body and clambered back to his feet. The pair stared at each other, slowly encircling one another until the Tiger ran at him once more and pounced, Talim was prepared and swiped his blade across the Tiger’s front, leaving a nasty scar on its face and torso. The tiger roared out in pain as its blood stained the warrior’s breastplate, that wound was enough for the tiger to decide it was not worth the risk, it ran, leaving a trail of crimson behind.

Talim once again felt the pull, it was not as harsh as before, but he decided to follow it further, it led him into the massive pool of blood within the cavern. When Talim emerged from the pool, his wounds had been healed, and held in his hands were a collection of massive glacial kuila, they were stained red for the moment, but even after they had been cleaned, red crystals remained within. Talim looked to the moon, it was still bleeding into the pool below, reluctantly, he spoke. “What are you?” He asked. “A titan.” It replied. “Are you a mani?” the Elf asked in shock. “No.” it replied. “Are you an Aspect?” he guessed once more, and then there was a long pause. “You do not even know your own nature, Tali’mordu, do not begin to presume you can understand mine. It is time for you to return home.” It said, and then Talim had found himself outside of that cave, the doors were shut and the moon was as it should have been again.

    Talim wandered in the snows, he was unsure if what he had just witnessed was real or not, but still, he felt as if the moon bleeding was an ill omen. The Elf continued to wander, he chewed on a piece of moose jerky until he found a lone cabin in the snows, civilization had to be nearby now. The Elf began to search in grids and as he did, he continued to see more signs of civilization, tents, camps, and even more, cabins, as he followed the signs of life, they became more frequent. Finally, Talim found himself stumbling upon a great fortress city “Alisgrad” read the sign in the tongue of the Valah.

    As the Elf approached the city, they asked him for his passport, of which he had none, four hours did he sit between those gates until he was allowed within the fortified city, still, he had not spoken in many months, and he did enjoy the conversation, he told stories of his adventure to the populous and sold some of his moose jerkies to the people. With the Norlandic marks, he bought postage and hastily wrote a letter. Talim reached into his satchel and retrieved the claws of the wolf that had lived in his den prior; he fashioned them into a necklace and sent the package off; it was bound for the Vale of Naveahlen ahead of him.

    The only thing left now was to arrange passage back home, he spoke to the merchant ship captains at the docks and was able to arrange passage. Talim traded his sword away to a captain who fancied it and it was all set, only the ship was not bound to leave for another month, for now, the Elf would enjoy sleeping within a bed for the first time in almost a year, it was like heaven to him. He even washed his body, months upon months of filth fell from him and even though he used soap, the smell lingered, perhaps it would come out with time. Talim decided to keep the beard, it was cold in Norland, and his clothes still treated him well, though they also received a thorough washing, which he also paid for. Talim simply waited in the inn room for the ship to depart, he could have perhaps rode home, but the journey still would have been long, he decided it was his best option to wait for the moment.

Talim boarded the ship, he was bound for home now, the merchant ship was to take him as far as the docks of Urguan, then he would have to hike the rest of the way home on foot. He mostly rested in a hammock, but when the ship needed help, he helped where he could. He had been sailing before, but it was vastly different than the last time, he was a different sort of passenger now. The winds were mostly calm for the first few days, but that fortune quickly spoiled as one day, it began to rain and did not stop for the rest of the voyage.

As the storm grew louder and thicker, the crew seemed to be on high alert, they had told Talim that it was perhaps the worst storm they had ever seen in over a decade. Some of the sailors even told him that he had brought strong omens with him and that he would be the death of the crew, they did not know it, but they were right. The Elf rushed to the top deck, he began to help the crew secure ropes, throw out buckets of water, anything that he could do with his limited experience, the storm did not relent still. Talim began to worry that he might not make it home and so he knelt down to pray, it all seemed so hopeless, it didn’t change the condition of the storm, but they all made it safely to the Dwarven docks.

Talim quickly departed from that boat, he took a moment to dry off and then marched straight home, skirting around the voidal hollow until he found his way to the gates. He was so close now, he could see his home, and in fact, it brought tears to his eyes, he hadn’t seen his family in so long, a full year. He wiped his eyes, straightened his new hat, stroked his beard, and strode forth, entering the gatehouse. “Karin’ayla.” he said in a hoarse voice.