The last two days had been filled with a sense of urgency as Long Grass strove to cover as much ground as possible. He was being tight lipped as usual, but Salen Dustchaser had managed to find out that an important ritual was about to take place where their clan was now meant to be …

The Bison Khan and Rain Main Grasslands, a powerful area, good for Sea Season grazing and a place where Khans were made, or Broken.

Despite the incessant rain Kohana found the pace easy, and it took all of the black haired brave's skill to keep him from overtaking Sky Soarer, his Shaman's own mount.

After riding through a particularly difficult section of large boulders, Salen coming to the edge of a rise and looking down and across the Wastes, spied in the distance the oddest thing. Reaching up to the clouds, about a mile away, was a giant twister…..Made of water.

Stopping for a moment he could hear it's roar, and was that the shouts of people too?


Long Grass Stopped at his side, taking in the view….
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:05, Sat 09 Nov 2013.

"The Wicked Writher…It is here already…Come we must ride to offer our assistance.

Be on your guard for all sorts are called to disrupt the ritual…"

Two days. Had it really been two days since he had awoken in the cave, brown feather in hand? Salen looked down on it, where it hung from the Impala necklace around his neck.

Condor.

Foundchild and Brother Dog had watched him go, and then he had found himself sat in a huge nest opposite a huge bird - the Condor itself. A loner. Condor had pushed him over so he had fallen, fallen so very far and so close to oblivion - and yet he had known no fear. Somehow he knew Condor was with him. So, this would be his path. An important path, a vital path...and yet one to be walked alone. No matter. He had been chosen, and he would follow.

Long Grass had been waiting for him when he emerged from the sacred cave, and after that...after that there was travel, and fights, and scouting, and tests. But all paled into insignificance once he had scaled King Condor's home, and met the King himself. What he had witnessed there had changed him forever, and now he had a purpose, a promise to live by. Others he had met then - Crane Man, Tamarisk Man, and Manul the Praxian Cat, who unlike the others would not be his friend. No matter, for not everyone would, but it was important to know where the line was drawn.

Now he saw the world in a new light, and not just for the helm he had won from the Tusk Riders. No, everything was different now.

------------------------

The Wicked Writher had come, and they had barely made it. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, but he was ready. Long Grass had said little - he was hardly the greatest conversationalist, mused Salen - but he had said enough, which was ever his way. The roar of the storm was tremendous, but...above it, he could hear something else. People? Shouting? It was not cheering of the joyous type, that was for certain.

Beside him Long Grass had stopped. Salen looked his way, and knew what he had to do.

"Something is wrong. We should get there with the utmost haste."

He did not wait for the Shaman. Instead he urged Kohana into a full gallop, trusting Long Grass would follow close behind.

Long Grass does in deed follow, charging in the wake of the galloping Kohana.

Ahead the sky is filled with clouds, lightning arcing across their underside, the air below a constant sheet of rain.

As he gets closer he spies black forms dropping downwards on to what looks like a small group of Bison riders….And one Rhino? It could be either one of his friends Amara and Greeshar, Sky Watchers under the protection of his own Clan.

Then they vanish in a heavy squall, the wind whipping up sand and dust, dust which is fast turning into a clinging mud.

Behind comes a shout….one word from his Shaman…

"Gagarth!"

It's all he needs to know…The Wild Hunter has arrived, intent on killing his kin. Outlaws and other murderers with one thing on their mind.

The Wild Hunter was at the height of his powers, raging away before Salen as he and Kohana charged the storm. The wind and the rain immediately began lashing their faces but on they rode. Out of the stormy sky fell small black forms, apparently attacking...Bison riders? And one Rhino rider - could that be Amara? Was that Greeshar near her? As soon as he had looked that way the storm raged once more and his vision into the area ahead was obscured. Sand now merged with the rain causing sheets of mud to be thrown this way and that, causing further troubles.

Salen continued on regardless.

OOC: casting protection 1

The magical charm ripples across Salen's body and then he's there, charging out of the scrub towards people of his Clan!

A half dozen or so Bison riders and Greeshar, outnumbered by men on foot, dropping from the sky, hacking and slashing at anything that moved. He spied a Bison dragged to the ground his rider already dead, just as four other mounted braves come out of the rain to the North, a fierce angry storm at their backs.

Straight ahead is Greeshar the Rhino brave, brother to the red headed Vingan Amara, who leads the four riders rushing to their aid. Both Greeshar and Kaonu are fighting for their lives….

Go ahead and post in the other thread now and use the main OOC, make sure you describe yourself. Welcome to the game :)