Private Tales The Shape of All Things

[Hanuman]

Aberresai Savannah


The Dead Men Free Company camp was a murderous place where only one law presided; only the strong eat. Numerous tents of various shapes and sizes were scattered unevenly across the encampment, and the uninitiated would question how such a seemingly chaotic group could function, especially when its numbers grew by the day.

The many faces of the Dead Men were flies on the earth, and when the Warchief called for it, they set upon the lands a terrible reckoning, leaving nothing but blaze and corpses in their wake. For this, the Dead Men were feared and hunted, but none thus far could match their cruelty.

At the camp's center was the largest of all the tents, and in it, resting atop a pile of cushions, was the four-armed Warchief. Surrounding him were many offerings brought to him by his followers, but he had little need for worldly things. The tent was dark and lit only from the sunlight that passed through narrow slits in the ceiling.

"Warchief," a bespectacled man with sunken cheeks and dark circles around his eyes stepped into the camp. Tucked under his arm was a ledger, and he pushed the frame of his eyeglasses up his beaked nose. "A guest has arrived bearing your emblem."

Hanuman silently waved one of his four arms. The bookkeeper stepped out, and a girl replaced him. The giant leaned forward, his four red eyes gleaming through the shade. How unexpected.

"Welcome," said Hanuman; his voice was a dreadful timbre, like drifting ash.

 

[Visha Sofka]

"Aha! There you are!"

Visha entered the tent after the guy with the seeing glasses left. Was that Idrix? Alright, which one of these divvies was Idrix? Because he deserved to have his nose hairs singed off, yeah, all of 'em, so he'd have the smell of burnt hair stuck in there ALL. DAY.

But enough about Idrix! She didn't come walking all the way out from Alliria (stillnotonfireyetcoughcough) to this stinky old Savannah for him.

The four-armed man! Hanumaman. Shit. Hanuminaman. Double shit. Ha...nu...man. Hanuman, yeah, that was it, that sounded right. And like she said, she found him! Here was right there! No escape now!

Visha grinned as she came forward, teeth glimmering once she reached one of the few shafts of sunlight coming down from the ceiling slits. She stood before Hanuman, the butt of her staff planted in the ground. By Great Maho, there were things to learn TODAY!

"Hanuman! I see you've just been getting taller! That's GREAT! You know what I've been doing? Guess! And you can't say making shrines to Geladryx, that's a freebie and I just said it. Hey, were your eyes always red or are you just itching to burn something?"

The best possible answer to that question:

YES.

Hanuman

 

[Hanuman]

There had been promises of worthy combatants in these lands, yet all he had come across were men too occupied with the image of their nobility rather than genuine warriors. As of late, the Warchief had grown far too listless.

But to the girl, he leaned forward off his mound of pillows. Perhaps a month, even a week ago, he would have cleft her from nape to nave, but now? Her energy was welcomed, daresay almost contagious.

"They are always red," he patiently responded, leaned back, and thoughtfully stroked his chin. "And... always itching to burn things."

From the reach to the savannah, Hanuman had come upon many beautiful and unspoiled lands. This had offended him greatly, so he had ravaged the land and its people by channeling his dread powers and venoms of the night.

"Girl. Do you also feel this itch?"

 

[Visha Sofka]

He said it.

Visha's shoulders ascended in a slow rise as her chest inflated, a large and steady gulp of air drawn in. Eyebrows arching, smile spreading. Gaze locked onto Hanuman.

He said it.

It's what she needed. It's what she always needed. She couldn't get enough of it. When she wasn't burning things she was thinking about burning things and when she was burning things she was thinking about what to burn next. The embers were there before Great Maho and then Great Maho IGNITED those smoldering embers into a glorious bonfire! She wished she could have been there when he took on the ancient dragon Drakormir and ascended to heaven in a most magnificent fire...fire...FIRE!

HE SAID IT!

"YES!"

Her Impassioned Blaze sparked torrents of flame from her eyebrows, from her shoulders, that roared bright and powerful for a few seconds before tapering down and dissipating.

"I want to burn things! I want to burn all the things! I want to learn everything I possibly can about pyromancy! I want to finish what Great Maho started and DESTROY THE COLLEGE OF ELBION! I'll set the entire campus on fire and then NO ONE will have any underwear--take that, MISTER AMBERSAND! And then I'll go and make the whole world my signal fire! GREAT MAHO WILL KNOW THAT IT WAS ME! ME! MEEEEE! AH HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAAH!"

And after her bout of belting laughter, she added while looking up and away in minor musing, "I kinda wish my eyes were red too."

Hanuman

 

[Hanuman]

There was very little Hanuman understood about what the girl had just spat out. If there was one thing, anything at all, that resonated with him, it was that he too wished for the world to burn.

"What you seek from me cannot be compared to petty magics," Hanuman rumbled, "What I know is not pyromancy. You will not find the art in any manuscripts or on the pages of any book."

Then, he leaned back and sized her up from his shade. Four red irises flashed at her. Could she, even? The art had never been passed to any but his people, and none but Hanuman remained.

"You will not gain red eyes," he said and held up one of his left hands. A cold, white flame swirled in his hand and took the shape of a rigid hand fan. "But you may learn how to do things such as this."

 

[Visha Sofka]

The white flame in Hanuman's palm got Visha to gasp and--momentarily, at least--stay silent with a wide grin and just watch the flickering of the rare flame.

Not pyromancy?? What else could it be then? Better pyromancy? Of course, no pyromancy was better than Great Maho's pyromancy, but it was something that she didn't yet know. The flame and all of its secrets (all of its colors!) could be hers--NO! WOULD be hers!

"Welllll...," she said. Slowly, at first, still a touch entranced by the rare flame Hanuman held. "There's four things I'm good at. Pyromancy, baking, and whatever that is! You'll see!"

Red eyes. Ha! She could worry about that later. She didn't come all the way out here to the stinking Savannah to get red eyes. Okay, well, maybe. And those extra arms would be nice--who didn't like double the fun?? But those things weren't so important! It was the secret flame that Hanuman held! YES! That was the sausage to her biscuit, the maple to her syrup, the orange to her juice, all right!

"What can I do? What can I do to learrrrrrn~ this?"

Hanuman

 

[Hanuman]

Closing his hand over the fan, it dissipated into nothingness.

"Perhaps I will see," he rumbled and stood. Hanuman drew his fine robes up over his shoulders, which had fallen loose from lounging. He approached and circled Visha, who stood in the sunlight at the tent's center, his four arms folded behind his back. The Kha'atari's expression was veiled in the shade, but eyes that burned with an insane and hungry red glow remained fixed on her as he walked around the edge of the sunlight. One would be hard-pressed to find crueler eyes, for his possessed the sparks of a dark flame that, given kindling, would grow to consume the world. They possessed a dread flame of destruction that would shine at the end of the universe.

Hanuman stepped out of the shade at last. His skin was ashen, and he had the wicked face of a tyrant.

"First, I will instill in you discipline. Then you will learn all the forms of channeling," he grinned with white, pointed teeth, "then you may levy your wrath upon the world."

 

[Visha Sofka]

Now there was a face that commanded respect! You know what the big problem with the College is, hmm? Hmm? Most of the so-called "professors" there looked absolutely like what they were: soft little bookworms. That's right! They had their noses buried so far into the pages of some tome or another that you could read the latest paragraph off their tips--if you could get them to look up! Fire didn't want to be commanded by the likes of them! NO! Fire wanted someone powerful! Someone like Great Maho, of course, that just went without saying, but also! Also, also, also!

Someone like Hanuman!

Visha snapped her posture up rigid and straight. Though it was more of a mockery or a poor attempt at some kind of military-like pose than anything else, evidenced by the unimpeachable grin on her expression.

"Discipline? I'll show you discipline! I'm the most disciplined person in this whole camp! Idrix can eat his heart out and jump into a deep latrine, not necessarily in that order!"

She looked up to Hanuman with eager anticipation.

"I am so...fucking...READY!"

Hanuman

 

[Hanuman]

"Idrix Vale has his uses," the behemoth flatly responded, then broke a small smile. It was a terrible expression.

Hanuman strode past her towards the tent's entrance. "Enthusiasm is good. Follow."

The warlord ducked out of the tent and into the camp, which bustled with activity. Just outside of Hanuman's tent was a pack of hyena-faced marauders hunched around a smoldering fire pit. As the unlikely pair walked past, their heads peeked up from whatever it was they were doing, and they cackled at the girl, and one made a beheading motion with its hand. That one laughed, too, with its tongue lolling out in the dry savannah heat.

"Ignore them," Hanuman said plainly without sparing a glance their way. "Senseless beasts."

On the western side of the camp, where it was noticeably organized compared to where they came from, colorful banners flew above tight groupings of tents. Hanuman took Visha past these tents to a large fighting ring, its perimeter lined with stones.

"Stand in the middle."

 

[Visha Sofka]

You know what? Visha did follow. And yeah, she saw all the sights on the way, like those cackling marauders over there. First they were eyeballing her on the way in, and now all that cackling mess. Look at those idiots! Look at the one who dragged his hand across his neck. Decapitation was such a lame way of solving any problem. Didn't he know he was sitting right next to a fire? Duh! Then again, how would you go about gesturing lighting someone on fire--without it looking like you were possibly being attacked by a swarm of bees instead? That was something to figure out for later! So, in the meantime, she just stuck out her tongue and pulled down her eyelid at them--a College classic!

They came to the ring.

Visha looked around, up at the banners waving and flapping in the Savannah breeze. Okay, so she really didn't keep track of all the details: where were all of the orcs, and Geladryxie, by the way? Maybe they were faffing about somewhere else. Understandable! Visha did that all the time. Without a good morning wildfire to get your day rolling, it was easy to just procrastinate--and it was even easier if some stupid thing or another was due for some stuffy professor. Just Hanuman and the Dead Men kicking up dust around here!

Stand in the middle.

"Oh? The middle, huh? Alright! Toss me a crown, because I'm king of the hill!"

Visha stepped into the ring and pranced over to the center and faced Hanuman once there. She proudly declared while stamping the butt of her staff down into the ground, "It doesn't get any more middler than this!"

Hanuman

 

[Hanuman]

"Your skills of orientation are commendable," Hanuman said plainly. Then, he assessed her. "Two things are necessary." He raised one of his hands and a finger. "First, we must build upon your body." Another finger. "Second, you must learn the proper forms of breathing. Without a sturdy body, the breathing technique I shall teach you will kill you. With certainty."

And without the breathing technique, she wouldn't channel the flame of her soul. Even if she never manifests the Atman, the breathing techniques will still vastly improve her physical capabilities for as long as she can maintain it.

"Sorcerers of this land are weak of body. In you, I see this also. Why limit yourself, I often wonder." Hanuman stepped over the line of stones into the ring. "Say, girl, have you ever taken a life with just your hands?"

 

[Visha Sofka]

Build upon your body.

Visha, seemingly caught off guard, glanced down at herself, inspecting her arms with a turn here and a turn there, her legs with a pivot on the balls of her feet and a twist of her waist. Huh. Looked alright to her! She didn't need to be big to pyromance the shit out of things! Fire didn't need to be lifted like big stone blocks.

Breathing? BREATHING?? HA! Well, there were four things Visha was really good at: pyromancy, baking, and breathing like she owned ALL of the air in the Savannah! Hanuman was gonna be impressed! Still, she couldn't help but to giggle a little bit when he said that the breathing technique would kill her. Says him! With Great Maho on her side, she could confidently say 'Only I can kill me!'

Why limit yourself, I often wonder.

EXACTLY! Those College pansies were all about that. Pfft, go read another book and write a report on it, and don't forget to scratch your bedsore!

Then Hanuman stepped into the ring. And had a question! Visha LOVED questions!

"Just my hands? So we're not counting feet, thighs, teeth, and fingernails?? That's no fair...but it doesn't even matter! HA! I take ALL of the lives with just my hands! I strangled a dragon, armwrestled an ogre, an punched a hole in a golem before! There's nothing these hands can't do!"

She grinned widely. Held it. Shifted her eyes left. Then right. Then back to Hanuman.

"Okay, so that was a bunch of bullshit. But! It's only bullshit right now! I haven't done any of that--yet!"

Hanuman

 

[Hanuman]

Four eyes blinked at her.

"In due time."

One of the first things Hanuman, or all his kind for that matter, learned was the sensation of taking a life. For the warchief, it had been by strangling. Watching the light of life fade from the eyes did not haunt him, however. He grew accustomed to taking lives quickly until it felt as natural as drawing air.

"Hm," Hanuman crossed all of his arms across his chest as he continued to study Visha. "Soft. Fragile. When you are not learning from me, you will follow a regimen that I will give you."

The burly warrior would carry boulders up steep mountain trails to train his body. Neither were present in the savannah.

"While under my tutelage, I forbid the use of your spellcraft and sorceries. You shall take up the sword and spear until you learn to mantle the Atman. Only when you master the Art will I allow you to use your scholarly magics." He glared down at the girl. "Do you accept these terms?"

 

[Visha Sofka]

An interesting look came over Visha, her head cocked to one side: a mixture of shocked perplexation, calculations in progress, and grinning excitement. A similarly volatile mixture of thoughts went through her mind. WHAT?? No spells? No pyromancy?? Oh, it's a challenge then, HA, joke's on you, I love challenges! But wait, how was she going to burn things? Atman, Visha knew something better, Thereman! My fireballs, though, I love casually juggling fireballs! We're going to go back to the old-fashioned way, the good ol' days as the white-bearded professors would say, before she saw Great Maho attack the College with his magnificent fire. Candles, torches, flint and steel, friction, glass lenses, stealing fire from a lightning strike, oh ho ho ho, we're gonna get creative around here!

But...my...PYROMANCY!

Visha looked to be undergoing a massive internal struggle. Mostly because she was also undergoing a massive external struggle. She hugged herself and rocked from side to side, bounced on her heels and the balls of her feet, twisted her torso this way and that, pursed her lips and let out a rumbling, "HmmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMM!"

But! MY! PYROMANCY!

She pinched her eyes shut. What would Great Maho do?

"...AHHHHHHHHH! HA!"

She stood straight again and pointed a finger up at Hanuman.

"Nobody beats me but me, and I'm gonna beat me to prove I'm better than me! Therefore, I accept! The challenge is ON!"

Hanuman

 

[Hanuman]

The behemoth dispassionately regarded Visha as she dealt with her inner conflict. Despite his pastime of reducing villages to ashes and grinding men's bones to dust, Hanuman was skilled at smiling and did as such to Visha's answer.

"So it is!" He clapped his hands and roared with jovial laugher. The warlord crossed his forearms and, with his favored posterior left arm, pointed to a nearby rack of weapons. They were old, well-worn tools unfit for the battlefield but useful for training.

"Take up a weapon of your choice, girl, so that we may begin."

 

[Visha Sofka]

"A weapon!? Just for me?? You shouldn't have! No, no, no, actually you should have, I love gifts!"

Visha pranced over to the rack of weapons just outside the ring, hands held behind her back and with each step she bobbed to the left, then to the right, left, right, peering all the while at the selection available. She stood before the rack. Tapped a finger against her chin.

"You know, I did beat up a housekeeper servant in the College with his own broomhandle once." Hey, he started shit with her, saying, oh, I just mopped that floor, and here you come with muddy shoes. Well of course her shoes were muddy, it was raining, duh. And also she jumped in a pit of mud, but that's beside the point. "So how about this?"

Visha selected a bladed staff from the rack and, feeling fancy, twirled it around herself in a series of flourishes that would have been impressive...if she didn't smack herself in the nose midway through.

"Ow!" A hand shot up to cover her nose. "I menth uu do dat!"

Yeah! She meant to do that! To throw her opponent off! Lull them into a false sense of security! Or something!

Hanuman