Noct Yaegir The Remnant [Tundra Monster Hunt]

[Sigrith]

Frostpeak Keep
Eretejva Tundra
Frostpeak Mountains Southern Pass

"It is a Tuskier" Warden Heragrim Froskir leaned over a map of the eastern mountains of Eretejva.

"One of the Tusk?" Darkstride asked, a curious hint of alarm in her tone, "are you certain?"

"I would not mistaken it for anything else," Froskir shook her head, the red ash over her eyes pinching in a furrowed brow, "there is nothing else up here like them."

"Aggression is not their nature," replied the direwolf, "I have known their kind well. Unless the victims threatened its herd circle, this is not normal."

"Then be it on your heads to find out why," the Warden grimaced, "something is wrong with it."

Darkstride issued a tense sigh, ears pressed back in thought before rising to all fours and turning to her party. It was one of the few times she was grateful not to be taking a mission as a lone-wolf, pun intended. "Those Of the Tusk are dangerous on a good day. We cannot hope to take it down with brute force. Gather supplies for distance. Their hides are too thick for normal bodkin arrowheads. We will need something...bigger."


Voe Marisa Thalren

OOC - For reference, Of the Tusk is a race developed IC several years ago. Here is an NPC example (not our target) formerly written by Vand : https://chroniclesrp.net/Folklore/Doggrave
It is perfectly normal for someone not from Eretejva to not know about this race. They only occur in the tundra, are fairly secluded and keep to themselves, and do not have a large population.

For the Keep aesthetic I use Castle Black from Game of Thrones. Google it to get an idea of what it looks like, there's no wiki for it yet.

 

[Marisa Thalren]

Marisa leaned forward, one hand braced on the edge of the map. The other idly adjusting the strap of her quiver.

She always spoke with a bright voice and a polite tone, but there was always a practical edge. Despite her smiles and pleasantries she didn't mess around with monsters. She always carried a heavy steel crossbow and a at least one spear and coatings for both that could put down monsters.

"A Tuskier? Not in the books but I do suppose that makes sense if they're not normally dangerous!" she declared. They had rules about harming sentient creatures.

She glanced over the marked attack sites, her smile softening into something more thoughtful.

"I wouldn't expect them to waste energy."

Her finger tapped the map once. She frowned.

"Unless it's...herd was under threat from all these settlements...or they were pushed to steal supplies to survive..."

Marisa straightened, rolling her shoulders as if the cold barely touched her.

A grin crept back onto her face, undeterred by the grim work ahead and the bite of the cold.

"Well I look forward to meeting one. So what's bigger than a bow? A catapult?"

 

[Hersh Mento]

Hersh took turns feeding a piece of bread to their drake and to themself. They stared at the map, remembering the layout of their home country with a partial fondness. It had been years since they'd been here, but years couldn't make one forget the Tusk.

"Frightening" They said with a gentle smile . "I have only seen them through the haze of the blizzard."

Their miniature Kesh Drake settled down on Hersh's head, but they remained unaffected, simply looking up to their fellow Nord. Their eyes weren't quite all there.

"I have heard mixed tidings on their disposition. Do they even speak Fiirevik? Or should we forego diplomacy to have the element of surprise for a trap instead?"

Their gaze dropped slowly back onto the map, light of the candles in Frostpeak dancing in their eyes.

"I would certainly like some of that strong hide, but we're not to hunt those with a conscience..."

They sighed

"Apparently"

 

[Voe]

Voe had listened and waited until he had something to add, he did not like to waste time with idle words. He had let Otho loose to get him warmed up and the Drake Hound bounded about them, pretending not to want to play with Sigrith and instead be interested in smelling a patch of nothing near her. Swinging his legs off the table onto the straw covered stone floor Voe hunched his sitting posture.

"I don't like it."

Opening his hand he toyed with his whistle, a tool for calling and instructing Otho, which had become a nervous habit of his lately. Yellow eyes tracked the room as if following some invisible prey he was about to pounce on but in reality he was thinking about how they did not yet know the why of the attacks.

"If they aren't normally aggressive then something is wrong."

He'd tracked with Sigrid before and found her to be honest if a bit guarded at times.

"And Marisa proposes some viable answers. This might not be our business. We are here to hunt monsters, not settle land disputes or local feuds."

He ruffled his cloak and had the thought that perhaps he had better not be too hard set against this adventure.

"I'd go for a long spear personally but I recommend we try to lure it into a pit if we can. If they are as big as I've heard then it should break its legs with even a ten foot drop. Then we can finish it off in whatever way is best."

He spoke casually, as if recommending spices for a cooked ham and Voe had another thought that perhaps he was being a bit too cool about speaking of ending an intelligent creatures life.

 

[Sigrith]

The great wolf sat in silence while the others debated. In her time living and traveling across the tundras, she'd given the Tuskiers a respectable berth, as did the Nordenfiir and others who called the frozen lands home. The Tusks, to their credit, made rather little trouble of their own. Aside from the rare dispute between males during mating season, even the separate herds would come together peacefully.

Hunting these tundra kin did not sit well with her either and the wolf's mismatched eyes settled on Voe as he voiced a similar opinion.

"I only know of one that spoke Fiirevik," Darkstride replied to Hersh Mento, her skull turning toward them, "and it was two words: eat and shit. Usually before he threw his boulder at you."

Doggrave had not been a particularly ornery Tusk, but he had his opinions and made them pointedly. Or roundly, as the case were.

"They have their own language but all those I have met spoke enough trade tongue to get by. Language will not be among our main concerns..."

Back to Marisa Thalren with a shake of her head, "Catapults will not work in that territory...several spears may be enough to get its attention. We will not be able to dig a pit deep enough this time of year."

"The ground is stubborn," the Warden nodded as she glanced across the group, "but the snow is not." She moved her hand to point to the main pass through which they would need to travel to get to the epicenter of attacks, "you could lure it to a false shelf and collapse the snow beneath it."

"Or on top of it," Darkstride offered, though warily, "there is great risk in that. For everyone."