Months in the Frozen North

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Alioik
Posts: 28
Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2018 5:53 pm
Guild: Barbarians

Months in the Frozen North

Post by Alioik »

It is the last day of Alioik’s extended stay in the frozen north. He looks different than before he left. The blood patterns on his face, while still there, do not seem clear. This is most likely due to the beard that he grew during the three hard months. Overall he seems shabbier, but he moves with newfound confidence; a confidence born through surviving the hardships that the original Barbarians faced. He finds a rocky outcrop and settles in for his last night of sleep. He pulls out a book of blank pages and begins to write…

When I left Devardec I wanted to replicate what the ancestors conditions would have been so I chose to only bring with me the skins on my back and a dagger. I learned many things during my journey and I will tell the tale in these pages of some of them. For a few of these lessons are not to be shared, but are for me only.

Month 1:
My first impression of the area I came to for my exile was cold. There are many different types of cold, for northerners do not feel it the same way southerners do. I would describe the cold as the deepest cold I have ever felt. I felt my marrow freeze! This barren land was free from trees to even the lowest kind of scrub grass, so I knew that this cold was something I needed to adjust to or perish. This was the first hardship that I shared with the ancestors: how cold their lives must of have been. I came across a dead wolf that must have succumbed to the cold. It was almost entirely preserved; it was not a bleached skeleton you would see in the desert. I took my knife and skinned the corpse, and added the fur to my current armor. This would help keep me alive in the bitter cold. I also carved the meat from the bones to use at bait. I did not need the meat, but I would need it to bait creatures for their blood. I took my dagger and applied it to breaking down the bones. I made spikes from them, and dug a pit in the ice using the pelvis. I learned how important bone working was to our ancestors at this point, for this type of tool making helped them to survive. I left trails of meat leading to the pit and managed to catch several polar bears and arctic wolves with my traps. I took their fur for warmth, their blood for sustenance and their meat for bait. This is how I survived my first month in the harsh wastelands of the North.

Month 2:
In my second month I came across another hardship that the ancestors must have dealt with. Up until this point my biggest concern was the cold, and getting the blood I needed for my ritual. This lulled me into a false sense of security. I went to one of the pit traps I had been using for fur, blood and meat. I was not paying attention to my surroundings, as it is sometimes hard to when it is so cold, and almost lost my head. A Kelanax Devil had found my trap and was feasting on the corpses I had been too lazy to clean out. I hadn’t thought of the consequences of becoming predictable in my trap placement. I moved away from the devil and decided that I didn’t need to expend the energy I would need to kill it. In a survival situation, sometimes the best thing to do is move to easier prey and save precious energy. I learned also that keeping your traps clear is wise. Two things the ancestors must have used in their own survivals.

Month 3:
The third and last month of my exile was perhaps the hardest month. I had a steady supply of blood to keep my life going, and the furs were enough to keep me warm. However, it was for lack of a better word, boredom that almost killed me. I had no kin to talk with or spend time with, I had chosen to go alone; even Reint my mastiff had stayed warm in the guild. It was during these times I applied myself on carving bone to keep my mind alert. It would have been very easy just to slip away into slumber and never wake again, but the work kept me active and alive. Also I would tell the stories of Barbarians past to the wind. It was then that I realized the importance of telling stories. Not only did the Barbarians of the past use stories to keep up their history, but it was a survival tool. It kept their minds active! This was the best lesson that my exile taught me.

Ali put his book back into his pack and settled himself deeply into the many furs he had collected. Tomorrow he would head back to the Barbarians. He reveled in how close he felt to the ancestors after his time in the frozen North. First however, he needed to make a quick stop by Devardec…

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