[CAG] Tormal

[Tormal]

Here's the history behind the academy and how it was formed. For those of you who are interested!


The Island itself is located a significant distance south and west of Stormhaven and sits, not too far, off the shore of the great deserts – the island is unable to support a large populace. The entire island is situated around a small inactive volcano spread out like a hand placed palm side down on a table. The wrist and fingertips the edge of the island and the volcanoes’ peak just 2 miles off the northernmost shore roughly where the top of the hand would be funneling into the wrist. This portion of the island, of course, drops off in shear cliffs and steep drops straight into the ocean making it highly inhabitable. The rest of the island sprawls out, works its way from a little over two thousand feet to just above sea level. In any case the monks built a complex just a mile off the shore.

Long ago when the Human leaders had made the decision to expand their empires across the mainland and onto several nearby islands they sent several military expeditions out. One of which, under Dormal Qumar’s lead, had been sent here, to Crene, both as an exploration and a colonization force. When they arrived they quickly realized that they were not the first to have adventured to the island. A large monastery, built into some hills, overlooked several acres of farming that sprawled out over the plains. A small road snaked across the landscape to the shore where several small shacks and a makeshift dock had been built. A small amount of people could be seen, spread out across the fields and docks, leading all the way back to the large, stone complex. The complex itself looked ancient, made from charred stone and brick, but it seemed as if the monks had been doing what they could to restore and simply upkeep the monastery. It was cloistered around a large courtyard and, in the center, there was built a large well. The monks themselves it seemed had been on the island for quite some time, possibly several centuries… or more.

It was quickly learned the monks had ventured to the island long ago, even before the Necromancer wars. They explained that their ancestors had not ventured to the island, but instead they fled. Several elders, during this time, had claimed they could sense the darkness coming. They sensed the malevolent magics that pulled and strained on the world and decided to flee from the mainland. Hoping they could avoid the terror the small boat of monks sailed to Crene, their home now. They further detailed the fact that they believe they are the last of their order “The Guiding Light.” They spoke of nameless secrets and believed their purpose was to preserve the secrets of the. They spoke of a portion of their own, personal history, when they first ventured to island and their problems with the inhabitants then. The small humanoid tribes that littered the island at the time began their own small war. The monks, for nearly a century struggled with countless attacks and invasions. They had to learn, since there was a serious lack of resources and an inability to make metal weapons on the island, to fight with their bodies and other “weaponry.” Although they had already known how to fight, their technique was centered on the use of swords and other unavailable weapons. So a deeper, more refined, unarmed combat technique was developed from the technique their fathers had used. This technique is probably the oldest recorded, as far as Crene is concerned it makes up one of the schools of combat in the academy today.

The Monastery elders although rather unimpressed with the new comers dealt and cooperated with their efforts to build and maintain a decent port at the time for expansion efforts. Not long after, immigrants and human refugees began flooding into the island. The small port began to expand into a small port town, and quickly into a small city. It was around this time the monk elders, feeling pressured by the nearby city, began closing in on themselves, refusing any request for help, or even trade (as little as there was) for fear that their beliefs would be swallowed by the world to come. However, Gobadan, a powerful monk in the order and next in line for the Elders council believed the town was profitable, in the least, to the order. He was not a true believer in all of the orders teachings or even actions on the island and politically with the new comers. Like most monk orders, or even monasteries, the members of the group tend to spend little or no time dealing with outsiders and had little need for raw currency or trade. Gobadan, born at the monastery and the son of one of the three elders petitioned his father, and the council alike, with his plan to possibly spread the influence of the guiding light and make “friends” out of the new comers.

Simply, the plan consisted of little more then trade and support agreements that would be made between the new comers and the monastery itself. The elders protested that the secrets must not spread, and that such an agreement would surely violate that law. Bewildered but not shattered Gobadan tried time after time to unite the two groups even as the elders cut all ties and the nearby city grew. Just a few years later, however, to Gobadan’s luck and Qumar’s dismay, the eastern human empire, under distress from a nearby kingdom attacking and raising its outlying towns, withdrew the military forces from the island leaving only the civilians (which, by now, made up most of the population) to protect themselves. City leaders quickly scrambled together a small militia. It was apparent however, after pirates began to nit-pick the city with small attacks here and there, that the militia could only do so much. Desperate for a greater and more adequate protection Qumar’s council requested help from the mainland and never received a reply.

Meanwhile, Gobadan, seeing the rising problem began to plea and soon demand that the Elders protect the city for a greater good then guarding the ancient secrets. He claimed that the monastery and the city, whether the elders liked it or not, were now stuck together. He argued they form some sort of symbiotic relationship with the city. They hoped that relationship wouldd preserve the order and their secrets. Eventually the elders agreed to assist and after several long meetings with Qumar’s leaders a sort of alliance had been formed. The elders would offer Qumar protection in exchange for supplies, food and general economic support. However, the move in a sense was the Orders undoing. The pirates cared little for the agreement and attacked the city regardless. Although adept warriors, the monks had little experience with water combat and large numbers of enemies and as the combats raged their losses began to show up with empty sleeping quarters and the almost weekly fresh grave or two. On top of that a greater threat loomed over the small island – Starvation. Without the support from their mother kingdom the islanders would have to feed themselves as well. Bound by their alliance the monks agreed to provide a temporary solution and allowed Qumar to have access to their farms. The agreement would mean the end of both sides if it had been allowed to persist. During the same time Gobadan’s father and mentor had passed on, leaving him in the seat of power at a rather young age. Unable to go back on their word the Elders and Qumar’s council devised a radical plan. The monastery, with its own stability faltering, would become apart of the city’s infrastructure. It would become an academy for its inhabitants. This way the city, in a sense, could protect itself and the academy would not have to worry about supporting itself. The monks would teach the applicants how to fight for and defend themselves. With the introduction of a small amount of imported metal weapons (the Crene settlers were not about to give up) the first combination of Qumar’s and the monks fighting styles had begun to materialize. Several well-trained fighters were formally brought into the monastery as instructors for those who preferred other fighting styles. Although scrutinized by the monks these fighting styles were rarely contested.

Dante Gobadan had, on many occasions, stressed that the council was blind in their moves. He claimed their solitude would eventually be their destruction. But in order to satisfy the remaining elders, applicants who were not apart of the order would be halted at a certain level, unable to learn beyond what they had. Applicants that wanted to continue would have to go through the trial of judgment and devote their lives to the order much like any other monk or continue with their own training outside of the order. The cooperation flourished and a sort of new way of life had developed between the city and the monastery itself. Even though it was not originally part of the plan, a new export had been discovered. Crene Island began to export mercenaries to Umal, in exchange for food and supplies. Umal is a large port city situated southeast of Crene and is a distinct trade port in the area. Qumar and Umal started their relations through a formal trade agreement not long after Qumar was founded. Umal traded its food for Crene’s mercenary support, and thus, the ability for Crene to grow and thrive was not just a simple dream.

Before the contract had been made the control of power within the order had been severely disrupted when the sons of Elder D`hanth and Jormani were both killed in an attempt to protect the town. This meant the chain of power between them and The Elders had been broken, ultimately leaving Gobadan in control. When Elder Gobadan died, it, in the end, meant Dante` Gobadan was left as the last known remaining elder of both the Guiding light and the monastery. Women in the monastery were too allowed power, but neither remaining elder had a spouse. Dante`s mother was in fact alive but resigned the control to her son and rather advised him until her death some time later. Dante continued the tradition, married and had children which he hoped would continue the power.

Several years before Dante Gobadan’s death he took countless trips to the mainland and returned only saying that the Order’s secrets would remain safe until the time came. Each time he had taken several books from his personal library and returned without them. He told his wife that someday when the time was right the secrets would be revealed. He never did pass on a shred of the knowledge and when the single battle of the Crene War broke out (a nearby kingdom tried to reinstate control over the island) both Dante and his wife were slain and the Elder’s knowledge was lost. The library was void of all knowledge and left with just a handful of bland clues. The order had fallen, but in its place stood the beginning of Gobadan’s Military Academy.

At last, seeing Crene’s military prowess and capability, Crene’s longstanding trade partner Umal, offered Crene an alliance and requested they develop a more formalized military school. Its leaders saw an untapped resource and hoped an alliance would allow Umal access to a significant portion of those profits. Crene accepted, of course, under the condition that the complex was built on the island.

Now decades later and generations past the academy and island have become a totally different place. The city has almost shifted away from the shore and around the academy itself. The Port and city connected through a well traveled road and a stretch of houses and other rugged buildings. Although the academy still follows the old code of ethics, given out by the elders, it has become a near business rather then a monkish order. The academy is run, once more, by a council but in a far different way. The council is composed of 3 Umalian leaders and 3 Qumarian leaders that are shifted out on terms of 6 years. The academy, although indistinguishable from the city is still, technically, a separate entity bound by the contract formed by the elders long ago. The city itself completely relies on trade, and without it, the city and academy alike would fall. Crene is lucky to have an export not so sheltered away by Stormhaven that it can make a small profit. The academy itself protects the city in all aspects and offers assistance to Umal when it is called for. The academy takes in a small amount of local applicants each year for the city’s protection and uses the rest of its compound for the training of outside or mercenary forces. The foreigner applicants are usually sent to the mercenary branch and hired out to nations as mercenaries, if they so choose. Such students are paid a percentage of the payment from the contract and are allowed, in specific, situations to plunder. Such contracts are formed for entire divisions (100 – 250 men at a time). With such a unique export Crene is able to import much needed resources and other supplies. With the introduction of those metals and a sizeable span of time the academy had further been broken down into several schools of combat.

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The Academy is broken down into several “Specific schools of combat.” Their titles have changed over time, but the technique, has always been consistent.

The first and most common is the “Movar” or Mighty school that trains its students in both Armor and Weapon usage, how to physically take blows and is a direct descendant of the fighting style brought by Qumar’s Settlers. It doesn’t, however, allow the student to excel in areas outside of direct combat. This school’s emblem is a clenched fist.

The second is a near opposite of the school and known as the Ventulga or “Guiding Light.” Obvious as it is this style comes from the Guiding light order, and taught by Gobadan’s son to the other inhabitants. This school is probably the second smallest – requiring a strict code of ethics and a strong willpower. It teaches the students that their bodies are weapons in themselves. IT also delves in the art of KI. Its emblem is the sun.

The third is a rough combination of the two, known as the Sa Nacht, teaches its students that they don’t need the burden of Armor to use heavy weapons in combat. Using some of the Techniques taught in the Ventulga, and combines it with the idea that the use of weapons can be highly beneficial using some techniques used in Movar. The largest sub-school in this school is the Belgandi or “Blade Art.” These students are focused on swords and other assorted blades. The second sub-school, Herro is focused primarily on spears or javelins and the third Gathar is probably the most exotic.

Gathar itself is almost a school of combat simply because of the shear intensity of both training and combat it’s members must go through. A technique had been documented from Tribal Zealots when the monks first arrived. It wasn’t first practiced, however, until the academy had formally been established a while back. It’s students are taught to fight, near fanatically, with specific weapons preferably maces or hammers. This schools is known the shed fear in both enemies and allies alike. The emblem of all three schools is the Dragon. Each sub school has a different color Sa Nacht Belgandi – White, Sa Nacht Herro – Green and Sa Nacht Gathar is Red.


The fourth is known as Serran Dium but its applicants are known as “slithers.” This school focuses on more so on the student’s physical abilities, but teaches them that stealth is the key in nearly any situation. Their gracefulness in combat should be their focus. Followed by their ability to adapt to nearly any situation making these trainees’s are highly looked for as assassins. Rather then a combative art form this is a simple combination of nearly all art forms rolled into a comprehensive academic package. Their emblem is the Viper.


The sixth is a school that was transferred here from Umal and some of their most adept warriors. Known as the Domoni Ko or “Demon Kin”, these members are few in numbers but boast a rather intriguing skill. Their ancestors used chains, laden with spikes, as their primary weapon. That technique was passed on to the academy when Umal offered it’s assistance in the academies creation. The students are taught much like the Wolf Order, but focus in chain expertise. They are widely known for instilling a sick fear in their foes, Their emblem is, simply enough, a chain rolled over a sword.

The Final school, known as the Olfen Dahr or “Wolf Order” is one of the most intriguing to watch. Its members are focused on the use of staves and their bodies as fierce weapons. Their combat style is extremely fluid and swift. It’s members are taught how to use both a weapon, speed, common tactics and KI to their fullest advantage – even through the use of a large stick. It’s members are feared simply because of their “fearless” combative technique.
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The physical academy itself is rather not that large and rarely has more then a few hundred students or mercenaries on its compound at one time. However the control and influence the academy has is rather extent. Boasting an admirable local military and mercenary control outside of the island Gobadan’s academy is moderately influential.

Included in the academy is a small specialized group of mercenaries hired out by the academy’s council to find at least one of the hundreds of lost books. Since the group was first formed a little over 30 years ago there have only been 23 whole books and a small set of scrolls that have been found. The group, known as Gobadan’s enlightened, wear a special gold inlayed emblem of their school, and the academy alike.

The Academy’s emblem is commonly known on the battlefield. A half circle open end up, tapering off on each side rather then abruptly ending, surrounds a large sword pointed blade down. The sword seems to pierce the half circle –midway in-between each end. A muscular hand grasps the sword at the hilt and a large embroidered cloth wraps around the hand and hilt and spirals down of the blade hanging motionless off its tip.

 

[BSF]

Brandon, please give some thought as to whether Tormal is going to pursue Wolf's offer to train him in the true techniques of Olfen Dahr. It is a departure from what the Academy teaches and Tormal will need to relearn a thing or two here and there. Otherwise, he can continue on his own, and the Academy's course. Neither option is right or wrong, just give some thought to how Tormal will pursue it, if chooses to.

 

[Tormal]

It is pretty obvious to everyone that the visit of the Wolf had some impact on Tormal. The question is what kind of impact was it? For the days after the encounter Tormal stays quite about the situation even avoiding it if it comes up. But the night after the incident with the golem he finally cracks. He tells everyone that as soon as he is able to he will try and persue Wolf. He states " When we are done hunting these gnolls I will attempt to find the wolf and learn the true ways of the Olfen Dahr. While I don't understand what that may mean yet I am willing to learn. The only problem being I don't know how to find him." After some time he approches Ceru and asks him for assistance if he is able.


OOC: Yes, Tormal plans on persuing Wolf as soon as we are done. He will begin by asking ceru for assistance or any ideas as to how he may find him.

 

[Tormal]

The air begins to settle as Belmay’s blessing descends from the brightly lit sky. In the distance a careless shuffle of leaves and branches can be heard and is quickly followed by the murmurs of conversation. After a few moments Kynd and Tormal blindly step into an open clearing on their short march back to the manor. Tormal almost stumbles upon the last bits of untamed trail but recovers before any serious damage is done. In the distance the manor can be clearly seen. “I assure you it would have gone much better if I actually knew how to communicate with the wolf.” Tormal argues “I… I just feel that could have been done a bit less… forceful” He raises his shoulders in question. Kynd laughs and the two continue through the brush back to the manor.

Back at the manor Tormal is quite obviously happy with the conclusion of the expedition. He states that it could have gone a bit better though he cannot argue with the results. It’s apparent that he worries ill word of the situation may reach Wolf. However, if it were a true concern of his that fact was easily overshadowed by his now “livelier” persona. He seems a bit less stressed now then he was just a few days before. Although quite talkative, Tormal takes only a small amount of time to reflect before he retires for the night. He stumbles into the nearest bed chamber and quickly drops into a deep sleep.

….

A note is posted on the door that reads:

“I must now wait for Wolf to answer my call. I do not know that the outcome of what I have done will be for better or worse or whether there will be any at all. I ask that any word of what I am doing in the forest be kept to this group for I fear Greerson may look upon me with ill intentions if they were to find out. If you need to contact me I will only be across the stream a ways. Otherwise I will no doubt return in a few days time.

Tormal “

A fresh morning breeze flows through the trees whispering a silent song along its path. A cool crisp feeling overwhelms the forest as the dew crowned leaves shine under the rising sun. With the earth beneath his feet soggy and chilled, Tormal carefully steps in between two large trees. The song of a bird and the soft gurgling of a stream can be heard in the distance. Tormal takes his time gliding through the forest because although he’s not far from the manor any mistake out here could be fatal. Tormal came prepared and carries a small backpack filled with some salted pork, a bit of cheese, some bread, nuts, dried fruits and various items for simple survival. Hanging from his pack is a plucked chicken and a black skillet you may have seen back at the manor. In one hand he carries a tent and in the other his trusty quarterstaff. Stuck in his belt is a newly sharpened dagger, two large pouches and a water skin all of which are partially covered by his blackened sash, the only noticeable connection he now has to Gobadan’s Military Academy.

For most of the beginning of this excursion Tormal is, at best, uncomfortable with his surroundings. He keeps himself busy meditating and he even took a short walk without getting too lost. It’s during the evening and night when the world closes in on him he feels the worst. The sounds of all the night life fill the air around him and a bitter chill floods the forest. Often he can hear…. Things… in the distance he cannot make out. Needless to say the nights are spent tightly wrapped and with quarterstaff nearby. Throughout the first couple days Tormal had managed to setup a decent camp site, for him at least. A small, partially dug out fire pit lay in the center surrounded by some large stones. There lay a smoldering tree branch cooled by midnights touch and several large logs nearby to resurrect the fire when needed. A couple feet from the fire lay a small tent but the wildlife gave no leave and still overwhelmed Tormal’s space.

It’s obvious after the third night that Tormal would have to find something… more to do with his time. Perhaps he would just give it a try. Perhaps he could contact Wolf just out of his will. If Ceru can, why shouldn’t he be able to in some abstract way? This was something that would have to be done in the morning however. Tormal couldn’t hope to meditate properly in a setting he couldn’t even concentrate. Tormal simply questions “How could it be done?”

On the morning of the fourth day Tormal awoke and managed the campsite. It was particularly cold that evening so he rushed to make a small fire. He stumbled to his pack to grab a bit of meat and some dried fruits for a quick breakfast and noted that he should have brought more food. He may have to take a trip back to the Manor and pick up some more supplies pretty soon. Before taking the short trip back Tormal manages to clear a small area that lay in between several trees and had very little under brush. After taking a bit of time to clear his mind Tormal places the small wooden wolf Ceru had carved on the soft soil in front of him. Like always he runs through his same routine.

“Ohm-deh-sah-naschohm….”

He begins with what is referred to as the cleansing, a combination of syllables or a small chant to clear the mind for full concentration. After an hour’s time has passed he has completely lost the world around him. All sound, feeling and distraction of any sort has faded into nothingness. A sense of floating endlessly through time and space overwhelms him. This is the point of true meditation, of course, at which point the individual has the ability to focus on what ever it be he wants. In most cases it would be his Ki but today, Tormal is reaching in the opposite direction for answers. In a sense it is the only way he can relate to what Ceru has spoken of. “Perhaps this is what it feels like?” he wonders.

An impenetrable white fog swirls around Tormal. The echoing sound of nothing, dull and bland, fills his ears. But he brings his thoughts upon Wolf instead. He calls out to him in any way he can. He demands Wolf’s help. While he knows Wolf will probably get the word eventually it would be better, in Tormal’s opinion, if he can get the message to him personally. “Visions are not uncommon when an individual has triggered something within, that their Ki may react to….” Tormal recalls an instructor saying roughly two years ago back at the academy.

Everything could be seen for miles! Tormal found himself standing upon a cliff edge and the sun raged down upon his already sweaty face. A small breeze glides across the ground taking some leaves and pine needles with it. Below him a shining river cascades down a valley surrounded by a lush forest which abruptly ends against a golden wall of stone. Huge pines tower into the sky all around Tormal covering the land in a thick carpet of all shades of green and brown. He stands confident upon the cliff edge and stares over the land for several minutes. A hawk takes flight from a nearby tree and swoops effortlessly down the cliff side. The sound of a breeze can be heard whistling through the trees. “Complete Serenity….” Tormal whispers and the trees around him give way to the sound of his voice. He can see the trees sway like a ripple through water, until the horizon takes over miles and miles away.

For several minutes Tormal feels unlike he ever has during any meditation. He feels a presence of something greater, something far out yet so near… or better yet omniscient. At best, this is the closest thing to a supernatural feeling Tormal has ever had. Warmth fills his body as complete comfort and serenity overtake him. He feels more whole, protected and even powerful then he ever has, almost as if he had died and returned to a place of pure untainted happiness. Individuality and uniqueness fill his heart and mind. Yet this is something from the outside and not from within. Tormal is certain something has reached him even if he doesn’t know what it is. After much time and without any hesitation or fear Tormal dives off the cliff as if accepting a welcomed fate.

He finds himself back at the campsite standing and holding the wolf figurine straight in front of him with its flanks braced between both of his flattened hands. It would seem he wanted to protect wooden beast in any way he could. Tormal recoils in confusion and quickly looks around. The joints in his knees hurt badly. “How long had I been standing there?” he wonders to himself and quickly hobbles back to his camp. Everything is quickly accounted for. Tormal takes an extra minute to tuck the figurine safely into his backpack and sets the pack in his tent. It couldn’t be to late, the sun had just recently passed overhead. “Perhaps it was an hour after noon?” In any case he realizes the time and hastily takes off toward the manor to replenish his dwindling food supplies.

It’s near dusk before the calm forest scene had been disturbed again. “I almost took time from these lands I did not have. Any more and I may have gotten lost out here.” He reaches up and reties the piece of cloth tied to the tree above him. “I’m lucky that fire still smolders!” he laughs to himself. Something has changed with Tormal this evening but even he cannot figure it out. There was a new sense of confidence that laid over him like a shell on turtle and an even greater sense of purpose under that.

This evening was far better then the last few. Tormal sat outside for a good part of it staring through the gaps in the trees to the stars above. To him the sound of night was now as welcome as that of the day. In his hands Tormal twirls the wolf figurine around. The fire in front of him danced wildly. It cracked and popped, sending small beads of light into the darkened sky. An owl calls out into the night far behind as he lays back and shuts his eyes.
The next day is spent preparing his campsite. Tormal takes several hours to gather numerous large logs and stones. While it may seem mundane to some, Tormal takes great pride in the fact he doesn’t lose track of his campsite. However, the problem is found when Tormal mistakes some purple flowers for something less then they were. He slowly walks down a half way cleared path and stops. Off to the side he notices a large stone resting between several large plants and carelessly walks over to remove it. It wasn’t until Tormal began to walk away that he started feeling the deep burning in his legs and arms. He quickly drops the stone and pulls back his sleeves. Several large red dots littered his arms and legs. They swelled up like cherries upon a tree literally covering his lower body and forearms. The pain, although bearable, greatly slowed his progress. After some time Tormal decides to take a quick swim in the nearby stream. “Purple flowers are no good” he thinks to himself.

By the end of the day the clearing right next to Tormal’s camp is filled with unnatural oddities. Logs hang suspended in the air by rope from tall trees. Stones stand stacked at different heights all around and any wildlife in the area had certainly evacuated for now. Tormal’s training camp had been completed. He wasn’t about to let time rob him of his skills or strength. If wolf was going to come, then good, if not his time out here wouldn’t be spent doing nothing!

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The next three weeks can best be described by a dancer in the month before she gets the chance to present a lifetime’s work. A divine sense of devotion and dedication, discipline and shear determination crept out from the clearing. Often the calming sound of a cleansing meditation could be heard. At times it complimented the sound of the forest in its magnificence. At other times the sound of dedicated battle could be heard. The thud of flesh against wood the crunch of stones and the hiss of cloth surround Tormal.

Many times one could find Tormal standing atop a branch high in the air for hours at time. There he would dance his kata along its winding path back and forth much like a warrior on the horizon painted against the settling sun - A demonstration of pure grace and focus. At other times one would catch him aggressively engaging the space in front of him. He would spin, move forward, step to the side step forward and continue. The idea was not the movements but their speed and precision. Braced against Tormal’s flattened palms were single blades of grass held in place only by the speed of his movements and position of his hands. If at any time he lost the blade he failed and tried, not just the movement but the entire kata again and again – A demonstration of devotion and determination. At the end of every day he would sweep aside the shattered logs and flakes of stone and set fresh logs anew for the next – A sign of strength. With the rising of the sun day after day tormal could be found sitting like a statue atop several stacked stones meditating and chanting to the world around him – A demonstration of purity.

If there was one thing he learned from his time in the forest it was that perfection, in the sense many think of it, is unattainable. With the conquering of any goal there is already another that has risen to challenge.

An image of a god towering above the mountains below comes to mind. Benevolent light shines down all around him. Clouds part, mountains form and fall all at his will. An overwhelming sense of clarity, purity and benevolence floods out. The gods are as close to perfection any can think of. But even they, the gods, are not perfect. With all of their power and strength they often let their affairs get in the way or stop them. Perhaps perfection meant the continuous pursuit of itself?


Suprisingly the only real distraction Tormal suffered was toward the end of the third week. By this time he had already felt far more confident in his abilities then he ever had. The day had gone well. He was actually taking it easy for the most part just sitting around enjoying the day. He had just finished his meditation for the morning and was eating what was left of his bread and cheese. He sat there enjoying the warm sun and several squirrels could be seen wrestling the trees above. Tormal opened his canteen and finished off the water inside before laying back to take a short nap. The fire in front him had nearly burned out by now and a long poking stick he had found a few days back lay with its end under the embers.

He lay there thinking he may go back to the Manor in the next day or two. If Wolf had not come yet he could only hope he would find him some other time. At the same time though, there was no true reason for him to return. Well, except for food and some company. But the quiet was welcome break too…

Tormal quickly sat up something scraping against the undergrowth could be heard nearby. It was almost dark and the forest was unnaturally silent. Tormal suddenly felt uneasy and reached for his quarterstaff. It was quickly getting dark and the only noticible sign of life were the few moths flying randomly above him. The smell of smoke still lingered and he took note of the now shorter poking stick left in the fire. He may not be as smart as ayla or kynd with their survival abilities but he knew silence was a priority in this situation.

After several minutes the source of the disturbance is revealed. With a sudden rush large beast came storming out of the nearby bushes. It looked like a solid black bear but far leaner and a bit faster in Tormal’s opinion. But there was little time to think. In a flash the snarling beast was atop him. A flurry of razor claws and sharpened teeth had nearly manifested themselves on top of him. The beast roared and tried to tear into Tormal’s throat. Lucky for him he had managed to squirm out of the way just in time. For what seemed like an eternity Tormal struggled for his life. He used every resource available to try and dismount his foe. Not before he had several bite marks on his arm and a nasty gash on his chest did Tormal finally maneuver himself to a position in which he could get up. He tried desperately to keep the beast at bay with his legs and finally got a good kick to its face allowing him time to get up.

The encounter was far from over. Tormal had already been hurt pretty badly. Blood trickled down his arm and dripped off of his finger tips. He held his chest with his other arm and took stance. The beast stood there, low to the ground, on all four as if it were going to spring on him again. It was obvious tormal would have to end this encounter in some way.

He took a split second to envision it as the scene flashed across his eyes. He would jump over the fire and land a kick on the beasts back then roll off to the side. By now, he imagined the beast would be back in his face snarling and slashing. At this point he would cart wheel over it, grab the poking stick and thrust it into the creature’s flank. And he did just that.

The plan was executed nearly perfectly. But even at that the creature was not bested. The smoldering stick stuck deep into the thing’s back leg hindering its movement but not its will. By now, Tormal felt he could finish the situation. With more ferocity he had ever felt he smacked the creatures claws away grabbed its head and spun it straight over his shoulder. A crunch and snap rippled through its body just before it landed a hollow thud on the earth at Tormal’s feet.

After a few minutes have passed Tormal is finally ready to take a better look at the creature. He kneels down over it’s corpse and maneuvers its now twisted head to a better position. “Ahhhh” he proclaims “it’s some sort of cat! I’ve never seen a black one before. Looks a bit like the ones in the mountains back on Crene…. But they were golden.” He stops and looks around noticing that it was abnormally dark. He stands back up and walks to his tent and grabs the flint and steel. He takes a bit of time to start a fire and then walks back to the feline.

Tormal sighs “Thank you”, and bows his head to the cat. A sort of respect for nature and his opponent, never seen before, flowed out him. He some how felt in debt toward the cat, after all, it was he who had invaded its home. He wasn’t at all sure what to do. He certainly didn’t want the cat to lay out rotting both because it didn’t seem right and because it would attract that unneeded attention. After a bit of time he finally decides to cremate the corpse hoping he was not invading someone’s or something’s unknown belief. It is far more difficult at night to find anything in the forest, let alone dig a second fire pit large enough for the cat.

It takes an hour or two of shuffling and wondering around before Tormal has completed the half decent fire pit for the cat. Several large logs are stacked under and around the cat. Tormal has to lift the muscular beast onto the pile – which takes some time. He then litters the pit with what was left of the tinder he had and some of the wood chips he created over the weeks. Before he ignites the fire he uses his dagger to remove a single claw from the beasts paw and tucks it away into his pouch.

The fire burned hotter then he had expected. The smell wasn’t in any way pleasant but it was a sort of “last retaliation for the cat” he laughed to himself. He stared into the fire for a long time pondering the irony of what occurred earlier. “The cat was certainly acting naturally. On a literal level it was just protecting its territory I’m sure…. But on a deeper level I see more.” He thought to himself. “The cat was my complete opposite in a form of pure and raw strength. It was a battle between good and evil, wolf versus cat, instinct vs intellect.” He envisioned a great battle between a wolf and a lion for a long time and then nodded in appreciation. He leaned back grabbed the blanket and sat there in his own silence for a long time. He began to feel a certain level of doubt about wolf. To Tormal chances are it would take him a long time to respond and even that depended on how far Wolf actually was. “He could literally be anywhere… well… on this side of the river at least. Perhaps I’ll return to the Manor tomorrow. I’m quite tired of the silence for now.” He nodded off….

~ The heavy breathing of running surrounded him, he felt as if he was running along side or in the midst of a wolf pack. It was dark yet he could see perfectly. Trees blurred past him on either side as he ran tirelessly to… what? He ran and ran. Behind him a pack, two white wolves, a grey and a speckled one follow closely by. The chilled wind of night blew by his ears. Something drove him, pushed him to continue on…. ~

Tormal is again back at the camp. The fire in front of him is still burning strongly. He must have been startled awake. In the distance a faint howl can be heard.

Tormal wakes the next morning and decides to hang on just a bit longer. He might as well continue to try and hone his skills until the group is ready or until wolf finds him. He was certain that he heard a wolf last night but it could have been any. For now he would continue to wait and practice.

Several more days had passed and Tormal again began to lose hope. It was again at night. Perhaps it was the night that had that affect. The dark closeness and chill have a supernatural feeling to them sometimes. A sort of overwhelming veil filled with confusion and loss. “That is certainly why Belmay had given us the second moon” He thinks. “I understand that feeling now…” He would be returning, in the morning back to the manor. He felt he had done enough for now and yearned to speak with the group again. He was running low on food once more anyway and tonight may as well be his last out here. He tosses the last log on the fire before dozing off for the night….

Once more he is startled awake but nothing seemed out of place. He stared into the sky amazed by the number of stars he could see. He’d count them if he could… but then again he would go insane. Something shuffles out of the corner of his eye and he quickly looks over. A wolf sits quietly starring into his eyes. Tormal sits up and a second and a third can be seen on either side of him. He even feels another behind him. They sit quietly, panting, pacing and waiting….

 

[Tormal]

In light of the most recent events Tormal's goals may be changing.

Soon or Smaller Goals:
Tormal would like to get out of this dungeon alive and with everyone who still stands living in the group. However, Tormal probably doesn't realize Li is dead :\

Second, Tormal would like to escape his physical situation (whether it be torture or cell hold) generally undetected and without the assistance of somone else.

If possible tormal would like to locate and "remove" a goblin leader.

Long-Term or Big Goals:

Continue to train w/ wolf until he has mastered the true form.

Somehow find all the components for and complete the ritual needed to "bind" Wolf to himself.

Locate one of Gobadan's Lost secrets.|

 

[BSF]

The ritual itself is a Totemic ritual. Revering a Totem will allow Tormal to embrace Wolf a little more than he is otherwise capable of doing. Minor strengths can come from that.

Whether that is truly something Tormal wants to do is a completely different issue.

A secondary question for Tormal would be: What does it take to locate one of Gobadan's lost secrets? Does Tormal even know what one of the secrets looks like?

 

[Tormal]

Tormal has yet to decide whether or not joining forces, so to say, with wolf is what he wants. That's just what he wanted to find out in the first place. He certainly likes what Wolf has taught him thus far but fears Wolf's teachings may pull him away from those he considers his friends and civilization. Despite humanities wrongdoings against nature and Wolf, he can't help but feel Wolf is a bit one sided on the fact. Then again he expected as much. As for whether or not he'll continue to persue Wolf's teachings is unknow to even Tormal as of yet....

"Gobadan's Secrets.... Secrets... What does it take?" Tormal repeats as the question pops into his head almost out of the blue. "The Gods know I have put this task aside. I haven't even thought of it in months! It seems i've devoted myself to other tasks for now. But.. what does it take?!" Tormal stops and ponders for a moment. "Well, I know this much. They could be anything... I could have passed over one already" he grimly thinks to himself " never the less the one's i've heard about have been books and scrolls. But how... where and... when do I start looking? I feel I must start soon unless I wish to forsake my part in the task of their finding...."

 

[Tormal]

OOC: Ok there are a few mechanical things I had some questions about. First off and you may have answered this before but does following Wolf's secrets lead to a PRC?

Second, As a martial secret @ 7th level Tormal has a couple of EXTREMELY tempting options. But the one I can't help but think would be the best is Uncanny dodge. Am I correct in stating that w/ UC I can, unless disabled, NEVER lose my DEX bonus to AC? What about in conditions like Feint? My other choice, of course, would be evasion!

Third, Would Tormal qualify as good enough for the exalted path or should I look @ some other paths? I'm looking more for you're opinion on this. To me it still sounds like a great idea, but i'll miss out on a ton of feats and I will not be able to use magic later on of course. I'm not to sure...

Finally There was another PRC I was taking a look at. I feel it fits tormal's aspirations pretty well. Take a look @ it if you get the chance in Beyond monks. The tanterist. Anyway, let me know what you think!

 

[Fists.o.Fury]

Setting: Just after returning to the Ternell Complex after running from Nockmort
Perspective: Real Time

This is a little story about how Tormal trains before departing to Mt. Korliss. This Story may not yet be valid so don't take everything to heart yet!


It was apparent as soon as the group returned to the Ternell complex that Tormal has things to get done. For the first few days in town he tried to get everything organized. He spent a large amount of time speaking with the group, trying to figure out what is wrong with Oceas and assisting Tyrm and anyone else trying to get SOL’s financial situation organized. Nearly every morning you notice Tormal wake far earlier then normal and often spends much of his time meditating outside in the courtyard, in his room or even just outside the walls of the complex. He sits motionless and in complete silence for hours at a time. You could even catch him unhindered and still meditating in busy parts of the complex at the busy times of the day. Never the less, things had started to get routine again when some excitement had finally stumbled into the compound.

It wasn’t something that was unlawful, destructive or corrupted but merely playful in nature. Tormal awakened just as he had the last few days; bright and early. He prepared himself for another trial of rigorous training, conditioning and even some new techniques he had been trying to develop as he often does. He quickly got dressed in his finest robe and stumbled down to the meeting hall for some breakfast. It was oddly busy and talk of a few additional merchants arriving into town buzzed about the room. Perhaps it was instinct or maybe just his training in action, but when Tormal just managed to move out of the path of an incoming dart he was lucky. It was a solid bulls eye, and he quickly realized his mistake.

“Heeya, get out uh’ the way! You’re infronada’ dart board!” A rugged voice called out from the other side of the room.

A surprisingly well dressed (not well spoken obviously) lad stood there with an unmistakable expression of frustration. He was likely no older then sixteen or seventeen, carried a bastard sword and some impressive chain mail to boot. As Tormal stepped out of the way the lad smiled and shared a drink with the rest of his table’s occupants continuing about their business. Tormal ordered a drink and some eggs and sat down.

As he ate and glanced about the room he noticed a figure somewhat concealed in a corner on the other side of the room staring in his direction. Several times Tormal caught the same pair of eyes in his direction. Just before he decided to confront her the figure gets up and stepped out of the shadows. It was a young woman, maybe the age of Tormal but probably a bit younger with shoulder length brown hair securely tied back. She walked confidently to Tormal dressed in an extravagant yellow robe with white and gold trimmings. Held firmly in her rope belt a kama rests easily accessible and several pouches sway around with her movement. As she nears the table Tormal catches a faint scent of roses. Yet instead of sitting at the table she veered toward the door while looking back at Tormal as she stepped outside.

Both intrigued and some what flattered Tormal slams the rest of his drink, leaves the last few bites of food on his plate and walks out after the woman. Just as soon as he clears the door way a dulled dart of some sort hit him in the face. Caught off guard he tumbles out away from the door and brings his quarterstaff to bear. The woman stands not twenty feet from him laughing then motions Tormal over with her finger.

As Tormal approaches the woman takes a stance of some sort. Tormal does the same and they sit there for almost exactly a minute staring deep into each other’s eyes. With the speed of lightning the two storm each other in a flurry of fists and legs. They wrestle about for several minutes trading fists with feet and elbows with knees before breaking apart.

“I’ve been watching you for several days now. Your Technique is interesting. It is far more aggressive then those that I have trained with but highlights your weaknesses.”

The woman jumps, flips and spins her way to Tormal firmly planting her foot into his chest. Tormal reacts by trying to kick her remaining leg out from under her. She anticipates the move and spins Tormal to the ground. Before Tormal could get up she was on top of him, and pinned him there with her knee.

“ It leaves you vulnerable here…” she motions to the sides of his body “…and here” she motions to her back. Exploiting this mistake Tormal overturns the pin and presses his quarterstaff into her chest. She sighs and smiles.

“And That is why I have come to you. I seek a mentor to train with and to teach me more techniques. There is much I have to learn.”

The woman somehow pulls Tormal off of him with her legs. He goes to stand up when she kicks him to his knees. Before he can react she plants a palm into his back and pins him again.

“There is much I can teach you as well!”

Tormal breaks the pin and stands up. She stands there smiling.

“So what do you say? Will accept my offer… a trade of ..services so to speak.? My name is Mona”

“Aye, and mine is Tormal”

The conversation continues and the two walk into the tavern. After talking for some time it is agreed they will train with each other until SOL decided to depart. Tormal learns much about Mona and Mona much about Tormal before the night is over. From that point on the two wouldn’t been seen without each other hardly ever.

~
Apparently Mona had arrived at the Ternell complex a few days before SOL had returned bruised and battered. Mona traveled with two others, Sera and Harror the one who almost planted a dart into Tormal’s face. They had just returned from what Mona described as being a “Successful adventure. But she had greater ambitions. Perfecting ones self is always an admirable goal” she would say. Mona had only been training for a few years instead of since she was a child like most others of her background. She had come from a small monastery far to the west in the Great Plains. She knew of and figured the gnolls had destroyed the monastery already but shared little feeling for the matter. It almost seemed as if she had been hurt by it. Instead of going into details she explained that she had ventured to a vile town called Two Forks. It was there she was introduced to the cruelty of humanity and vied to destroy all such evils. Not long after she joined with a an adventuring group by the name of the Dangerous Dozen. It’s odd they would call themselves that considering there was only ever four members but Tormal didn’t push the matter. Mona mentioned another whom they traveled with but he was slain in his sleep. That was only a week ago.

~

Every morning Tormal and Mona could be seen on the sparring grounds practicing and conditioning with each other. On top of sparring Tormal would stop to readjust her moves, straighten her blows or point out her weaknesses. He would let her know when she should engage or when she should attack. He pointed out dozens of vital spots on a body, and how to utilize those weak points. Mona would show Tormal how to block and roll with blows better. She would often hit him where he was vulnerable and wrestle him to the ground when possible. When they engage each other it is apparent Tormal has more skill and experience then Mona but isn’t as effective at blocking and dodging hits as she is.

On top of the regular sparring Mona would attempt to catch Tormal off guard throughout the day. When he was meditating, eating, or for some reason not paying attention she would drop in behind him, sneak up to him or jump out in front of him and spar for a few seconds. This was an effective way to teach Tormal how to anticipate attacks and consistently be on guard.

In the last week before SOL was going to depart Mona surprised Tormal on the Sparring grounds. As he approached the field three figures stood about talking with each other when Mona steps forward.

“Rise and shine! This is Sera and Harror their going to assist me in teaching you the last of what I have to offer.”

Tormal Bows “Yes… I believe Harror and I have met.” He looks to Sera and bows “Nice to meet you”

Mona smiles “The one thing I have noticed when in combat is that you tend to focus on one opponent and disregard the rest of the battle field. When I was in training I was taught to embrace my surroundings and understand that threats come from all directions not just the one I’m engaging….”

Mona continues talking for a few minutes before everyone takes positions around Tormal. For the next couple of hours Tormal is overwhelmed and beaten by the three. Sera had a way of making agonizing attacks at Tormal’s blind spots while Harror distracted him from another direction. Harror would dance around effectively distracting Tormal for many of the attacks. Mona… Mona just got in the way. A number of times she would move in and pin Tormal while Sera and Harror beat him into submission. It was a rough day but there was a point. When Mona and Tormal switched spots, Mona was far more adept at dealing with the attacks. She blocked and dodged far more of the attacks the Tormal could have.

After the session was over and Sera and Harror departed Mona and Tormal went back to the tavern. By now they had gotten comfortable with one another and obviously shared an attraction. They talked and joked late into the night. The patrons started to depart as Tormal and Mona ordered their last drinks and departed upstairs for the night.

In the morning the two walked out of the Tavern together for their daily meditations. Mona had planned to continue the sparring with Sera and Harror but took the time to teach Tormal another form of meditation. It was through this she believed she could open Tormal’s capabilities up. It allowed him to clear his mind and focus in combat far more effectively then he could before. Yet, it was not apparent at first. The sparring that day went as badly, if not worse, as it did the day before. But that quickly changed by the end of the week.

The day before SOL planned on departing to Mt Korliss Mona, Tormal, Sera and Harror sparred once more. It was apparent Tormal had learned something, as he dodged and rolled in between attacks. He danced through and around Mona and effectively landed blows in between each move. It was inevitable that he would not win, but he lasted far longer then he would have a month ago. He was able to anticipate and dodge attacks with flawless efficiency. Mona was pleased.

Mona too had learned much. She hit and dodged more effectively as well and was able to land blows that were far more effective then before. The sparring ended early. Mona and Tormal departed to Tormal’s room. They weren’t seen again until the next morning….

 

[Fists.o.Fury]

Setting: Just after reaching Mt. Korliss when the group splits up for training.


Not much after dawn while the night’s chill still clings onto the air Tormal hears something rustling through the brush. Understandably startled he stands and prepares himself for what ever it may be. Out here in the wilderness and away from the group he must take caution to protect his life. To his surprise however, a number of wolves step into the clearing peacefully making their way around Tormal’s camp site. Behind them a large deep-grey wolf with deep white eyes steps out and sits prideful before Tormal. It shakes the newly acquired morning dew of its back and sits bobbing its nose about sniffing the air in front of Tormal. There is an awkward silence for a moment as Tormal sits patiently awaiting the creature’s next move. Finally, In a deep growl the creature speaks.

“You stink. I could smell you from miles away. Why is it you bother me again? More of your selfish demands no doubt!”

Tormal is taken back for a moment and quickly realizes the nature of what he is dealing with. Wolf had finally returned.

“Wolf? I..” Tormal stutters.

The beast snaps and barks at Tormal before growling out.

“Of course! Don’t act like an ignorant pup! Have you forgotten already!? Are you as doubtful as the rest of your kind? Why have you asked for me?”

Not wishing to make the same mistake as before and to show respect to his prospective mentor, Tormal bows to Wolf.

“I wish to continue my training. I wish to be one with the wolves.”

Wolf pushes Tormal to the ground growling into his face.

“Is that so? Why has it taken you so long?”

He steps off Tormal’s chest and leaves him lying there for a moment while he paces about the camp site investigating his surroundings. The has begun rising over the hill and a number of birds can be heard singing their songs in the forest. Tormal is about to answer when Wolf interjects.

“Have you already forgotten what I taught you? It took you this long to call for me once more – Why should I waste my time with you again?”

“I have not forgotten!” Tormal yells out as he stands to his feet and brushes off his clothes.

Wolf charges Tormal and barks “Then show me!”

As wolf runs by, Tormal plants his foot on Wolf’s side while sliding his quarterstaff in front of his front legs trying to trip him. If it weren’t for Wolf’s unimaginable speed this maneuver would have worked. But instead, Wolf jumps over the quarterstaff, bites Tormal’s foot and with sheer strength alone, pulls him to the ground.
Once more Tormal is lying on the ground, bruised and winded. A number of other forest creatures hear the commotion and silence themselves. Tormal lies there for a moment trying to catch his broken breath then sits up and crawls to a kneeling position facing Wolf once more.

Wolf laughs through a growl “You are pathetic indeed. But you are true to your word – You have not forgotten. You still show promise, but have yet to build upon that. Perhaps there is something I can teach you after all – if you can handle it.”

Tormal seriously looks to Wolf and says with confidence. “I can and will…”

Wolf laughs again “We shall see. I will return later in the day – be ready for when I do. I have no more need for delays. For now, it is time for this pack to hunt.”

With that Wolf and the rest of the pack fade back into the forest’s underbrush. A number of birds fly away in reaction and by this time the sun has managed to finally crawl over the hills and spills bright light into the valley. A number of creatures can be heard in between the fire pit’s cracks and pops. Tormal gets up and gathers some fire wood to start his day occasionally wiping dew droplets from his clothes. When the time comes Tormal makes his way back to the rest of the group’s camp and informs them of what had happened. He wastes little time in packing his gear and preparing to depart with Wolf, if that’s what’s going to happen.

For the most part the day is unentertaining. Tormal continues his training and waits for wolf’s return. He finds a large clearing where he performs his kata as usual and takes a bit of time to work on some of his newest moves. Tormal also takes the time to try and meditate but finds himself abnormally distracted. He can’t stop thinking about anything, especially Mona. He wondered to himself if he would get to see her again or if such luck was only a dream. Of course she said she would be there upon his return but things change. Things happen.

“Are you ready? We must leave this area and go where we can focus better” Wolf had been sitting there for some time starring at Tormal. Tormal jumps to his feet and gathers his gear. He rounds up his food and puts the fire out with a bit of water and dirt. As wolf walks out of the clearing Tormal follows hesitantly behind.

The crunch of leaves and sticks can be heard as Tormal steps through the underbrush. On either side of him a number of wolves try to stay hidden as they scurry about. Walking at the front, as expected, is Wolf. He slowly makes his way over a hill revealing another large valley below. By this time the sun has already begun to fall from the sky and dusk quickly becomes darkness. Its well into the next morning before the pack stops atop a large rock formation over looking the valley below. Tormal sits and tries to relieve his aching feet when Wolf finally gives the word to rest.

“We’ll stop here. Get some rest we have a long few weeks ahead of us. Nol, will accompany you. The rest of the pack will hunt again soon.”

Nol is a younger female wolf from the pack that stays behind with Tormal. She has grey and white patches covering most of her body and large grey tail. As Tormal sits she paces back and forth impatiently. Occasionally she takes the time to lay down for a bit but something amongst the forests’ many noises usually catches her attention. Often she whimpers as if scared. Tormal tries to comfort the creature but it’s not long before he falls asleep.

“You even sleep like a pup. Get up, it’s time” Wolf Growls into Tormal’s ear.

It’s not long after midday and the sounds of the forest can be heard for miles. A slight breeze brushes through the trees above. Tormal stands up and begins gather his equipment when wolf stops him. “No, we stay here; you won’t have much of need for that junk anyway.” Tormal hadn’t yet realized how rough the experience will be.

It was noted quickly that Wolf was strict; as strict as he was before at least. He was even more focused then Tormal’s mentors at the academy – by a large amount. But this was something he needed. Tormal had surpassed the academy’s teachings long ago and if he were to learn anything now it must be in such an environment and from such a tutor anyway.

For the first few days Wolf attempts to get Tormal’s physical skills up to par. He wakes Tormal well before the rest of the pack and spars with him. He takes invaluable time to point out weaknesses and strengths alike but rarely passes up the opportunity to ‘show’ Tormal where such weaknesses are. Even after the first day Tormal is covered in bruises, scratches and even a few bite marks. If there was anything to be learned yet it was that Wolf didn’t plan on treating Tormal any different then he would another wolf. Even in the pouring rain Wolf demands that Tormal practices, meditates and even performs his kata.

Wolf would tell Tormal that this was just the beginning; it was not the true extent of what he had to teach him. It was merely a way to get Tormal broken into his surroundings and the environment he will be living in for the next couple of weeks. More importantly though this was Wolf’s way of teaching invaluable skills for Tormal to have for hunting for and defending the pack and preserving his life. After just the third day Wolf decides to intensify some of the physical training aspects.

“You will hunt with the pack in the morning. With this comes the basis of what I want you to know.”

This could have easily been a mistake on Wolf’s part. Tormal wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t good at hunting either. In the first day alone he cost the pack a deer, a rabbit and a ton of hunting time. He often made the mistake of being seen or being too loud. But this was something that could be learned as well. Wolf had taught him the basics before and now was his opportunity to help Tormal perfect those skills. Eventually, after several hours, the pack finally manages to fell a rather large deer. Wolf takes the time to show Tormal where some of the best meat is before devouring it. When the rest of the pack is finished Tormal is allowed to take some meat for himself.

When the pack returns to the camp, if that’s what it can be called, Wolf takes the time to explain a few things to Tormal.

“Listen well; I’m not going to repeat this again. The existence of a wolf is cruel, as it is for any of nature’s creatures. Each of the creatures you see about you, whether it be wolf, deer, bird, insect or anything in between has a role in this world. Each of these creatures understands and fulfills that role. They honor it. Our role as predators is no greater then that of our prey. Because if it weren’t for our prey we, the predators, would die. If it weren’t for us the deer would run rampant destroying the land around you. Just as if it weren’t for the owl the mice would overrun all and if it weren’t for the mice certain insects would run rampant and certain plants would not exist.”

Wolf stops a moment to insure Tormal is listening.

“There is a balance, yes, but more importantly there is an order, a way things are supposed to be. There is a way things are designed to be. This is what you must understand if you are to learn anything more from me or your surroundings. You must insure that your part, and that of your species, is honored in this world. If you learn to peacefully coexist with the world around, if you can embrace this fact and there is much that can be offered.”

Wolf stops once more and paces around Tormal’s fire a bit.

“Keep one thing in mind. I was failed long ago by the two leggeds and look what is has come too. You’re kind consistently dishonor nature’s order, disrupt the balance and take what they want instead of what they need. If you wish to be one with the wolves you must also be one with nature’s design. Do you understand?”

Tormal take a moment to process what Wolf had just told him. After really thinking about it Tormal begins to quickly understand what Wolf is saying. He thinks of the cities where the corruption of nature overwhelms all else. He thinks of Greerson and it’s lack of respect for such balances. After a moment Tormal finally replies.

“I do…”

It may have not yet truly sunk into Tormal’s skin but he had at least begun to understand what was going on. He had also learned that Wolf was an aspect of wolves everywhere. He was a sort of Spirit that embodied all wolves. If he truly wanted to, Wolf could be anywhere any wolf is. This would also explain why wolf looks so much younger now then he did last time Tormal saw him.

As the days pass Tormal learns more then he could have imagined. He continues to hunt with the pack nearly every morning, continues to spar and Wolf continues talking about the two legged’s role in the world and nature’s design. To Tormal this concept was quickly falling into place, he even began to embrace that fact.

Wolf often talks about many of the gifts nature offers humanity. Much of it is what has allowed them to prevail as a species. The fish, for example, feed many, where as the cattle do too. Yet the cattle provide their hide for leathers and protection. Most of these understandings have been abused by the two leggeds out of greed. They often abuse these gifts and take more then what they need to survive. This is why wolf is the way he is. He’s frustrated and angry at the fact that we can so easily forget.

He also makes mention of many of the two-leggeds role from nature’s perspective. Two leggeds are supposed to be the caretakers of nature both living off of and supporting its very existence. This is something that has long been changed and forgotten but it was the original idea. When wolf periodically tests Tormal of what he has learned it’s apparent there is a change. Even Tormal’s beliefs and ideals have shifted noticeably.

It isn’t long before Tormal begins to fit into the pack just like another wolf. He is able to act and hunt like any other and even begins taking on some of their traits. But the greatest change of all comes about the third week out with Wolf.

It was just before midday and the forest had long been in motion. A wood pecker could be heard in the distance and a small trail of ants march past Tormal’s foot and up a nearby tree. A number of clouds pass over spotting the land in a gentle shadow and pulling a refreshing breeze through the valley. Tormal walks about slowly following a small set of tracks.

Wolf had taught him how to track by prints. This was something vital to Tormal if he is to survive in the wild at all. As Tormal makes his way through the forest a number birds in a tree flutter away. And just for a moment Tormal hears “Fly!” whispering out of the flutter of their wings. As he continues in the distance he can see some sort of pigs bustling about in the underbrush. As he approaches, one of them seems to catch notice and stops abruptly in its spot. When Tormal takes another step the pig panics and squeals “Preedatooor! Runnnn!” and runs away with a number of others behind it. Squealing “runnn!”

Tormal is shocked, overwhelmed even, at what he heard. He falls to his knees trying to comprehend what was going on when a bird lands on a tree branch above. As he listens Tormal is relieved to hear a normal chirp several times. When he stands up the bird flutters away. As Tormal watches it he somehow seems to comprehend its movements and interprets them as hunting. The bird was hunting! This is something he couldn’t have guessed before.

Tormal decides to return to his camp. A number of wolves lay in the open atop a rock sun bathing. Wolf can be seen sitting and staring about the valley and occasionally pacing around the site. As Tormal nears he can hear a number of things…

“We’re hungry….” He overhears a whisper which is lost to the wind

“Hot, me move…” as one of the wolves gets up and moves to a nearby shade tree.

Wolf barks like he would to the pack but Tormal can understand.

“The two legged has finally returned”

When Tormal gets to the campsite a number of various conversations can be heard around him. He stands there a bit stunned before wolf says anything.

“What is the problem?! You have returned with nothing I see – I cannot feed you any longer.”

Tormal looks about before saying anything. “The animals… They speak! I can hear it…”
One of the wolfs behind him seems to laugh a bit. While saying “No food… eat two legged maybe?” Tormal looks back almost scolding the creature for such a remark. Somehow noticing the change a number of other wolves sit up and bark at Tormal.

Wolf sits there in silence a moment before addressing the change.

“Hush!” he growls to the pack. “Then understand this you can?” he asks Tormal without truly saying anything outside of growls and barks.

Tormal shakes his head

“Interesting. It seems you have finally begun to understand nature. It has granted you an invaluable gift. Look.” He motions to a mouse scurrying around the camp site almost certain of its safety.

Every few seconds when the creature stops he can faintly hear it speak “Food?... no…mmmm…ack!... er… mmm food….” As it jumps around investigating a number of plants.

“Everything has a voice. If you can understand this then you have come further then I though you would. You have been granted a gift by many of nature’s spirits. They believe you have come to an understanding of your part in this world. This is good, there is not much more I can do for you now. Do not forget what you have learned.” Wolf warns Tormal.

For Tormal the rest of the day is spent resting and speaking with the wolves themselves. He has a number of simple conversations, as much as he can, with a number of the wolves. The most interesting is with Nol, the wolf that had accompanied him in the first few days out here. He quickly learns that Nol has gained a sort of affinity for Tormal and wishes to join him when he leaves. Wolf protests at first but eventually comes to the realization of the situation. If Nol were to join Tormal she could not only guide him and keep him on track but she can also help protect him and him, her.

To Tormal it’s something he had never before even imagined would happen. After some time the two begin hunting with each other, playing and even sparring. Wolf also takes the time to make sure Tormal is ready for such a change. But to Tormal he had gained another friend and in an odd sense of the meaning – a companion. It didn’t take long for the two to get close and comfortable with each other.

In the eve before they decided to return Wolf confronts Tormal once more.

“You have come a long way. You have also learned much but it does not end here. You must remember two things from our last encounter. The first was a promise you made to me. Can you remember?”

Tormal thinks for a moment “Yes, I remember.

“Good, do not disappoint me. You must rise above those that have failed me before. And the second was something we had spoken of. A ritual spell – do you remember?”

“Yes”

“If you continue to pursue that goal you can still benefit from its gifts. Do not forget. Do not forget like the others…”