Stepping out of the glimmering portcullis Sage found himself looking around a forest, beautiful and lush, the smell, and gentle sounds hit his ears. Bending down running his hand through the dirt and grass reverentially. Sage felt... peace as if this is where he belonged, the trees and nature around him, closing his eyes and taking in the ambient sounds, he breathed deeply.
That void in his stomach, that longing, he long since stopped noticing seemed to be satisfied looking around.
Abruptly a voice melodic and filled with warmth booms:
Trial 2 - survive for a week in the forest
Frowning Sage scanned the surrounding tree line looking for movement, squinting his eyes he didn’t catch any movement or notable landmarks. The tension in his shoulder holding him taught a discordance in the peace he initially felt, standing in the clearing he experiences thirst and hunger, frowning not seeing a source of water he begins running towards the rising sun, the East, he thought. While he did his light run, he checked the local plants, and rocks looking for flint, for water, edible plants, medicinal plants, or small game. Running and walking in alternating cycles, he sees a few small creatures, and plants he doesn’t recognize; he eventually comes across a stream approximately two or three of him in width running perpendicular to the sun. Stopping he bends down and tests the water with his pinky, fresh water.
Smiling he recalls one of the most important lessons for surviving this trial, filtering water, not having a cloth, he rips a sleeve off of his shirt tying one end he uses it to scoop water allowing it to strain through the porous material, frowning and realizing he has no container to boil the water, desperate and willing to take his chance he brings his homemade filter to his mouth and drinks slowly.
After having his fill of water Sage begins looking for palm sized flint rocks, finding a few suitable and a large rock to work on he begins, edging away the rock to make a serrated edge around knapping the flint.
With a roughly suitable shape he breaks a two finger diameter branch off of a tree, and edges out a notch to fit his stone blade head. Using the stone blade head he trimmed a smaller strips off a sturding plant stock, collecting several long fiber strips, fitting the stone head into the notched branch where he used the intertwined plant fibers to bind it in place.
Admiring his handiwork he takes a few practice swings, in wide loping awkward arcs, realizing he's not really sure how to use it in combat. His knife, truly closer to a small spear, he thought with a slight grimace. Testing its sturdiness, it seemed fine knowing it is not as good as it could have been if he had proper tools or found better material.
Admiring his work and making slight adjustments, he feels a grumble from his stomach, a frown on his face. When training he didn’t learn to find the plants only to identify and harvest them, and how to skin and prepare game but not how to hunt it. Sighing heavily, Sage realized the training and knowledge, while valuable he still had a large amount to learn.
Taking his knife, and turning back to the river, Sage felt it best to travel parallel to it, explore the wooded area around himself in hopes to find some harvestable food while keeping his access to fresh water. The rich smell of dirt and leaves on the tree reaches Sage while running in line with the river, a smile creeps along his face, a sense of belonging.
Truly something felt right about the area around him, the greenery, the peaceful rustle of the trees, the soft wind, and rush of water, the red of berry bushes against the green, the loamy soil beneath his feet, and the soft chitters of wildlife.
Abruptly stopping Sage realized what he just passed, turning toward the berry bushes, leaning down he studies the berries and finds he does recognize the berries, unfortunately he recognizes them from his medicinal herb training, these would just empty his stomach more, poisonous but useful.
Harvesting a few incase Sage consumed something he shouldn’t he continued searching, a fair way down the river he spotted a rabbit eating some clover, eyes widening, Sage takes out his stone dagger and approaches, a twitch of the rabbit's ears gives him pause, the creature raises its head and looks at him. Sage, stopping in his approach, locks eyes with the rabbit, dark and glossy like pools of brown; he puts his knife away and sits down. The creature is peaceful, no malice in its eyes, just simple survival.
Letting out a long breath, he slumps, his gurgling stomach letting him know it didn’t agree with his morals. Slowly Sage began to pick a clover offering it to the rabbit, after some time, curious it approached him, and Sage began to feed it, losing a sense of time Sage began to pet the rabbit smiling contentedly.
After some time the creature had eaten its fill and left, he stood once more in his quest for food, continuing farther down the river, finally to a plant he recognizes, a large blackberry bush. Sitting down and eating contentedly he removes his torn and tied sleeve and approaches the river once more to drink deeply. Looking at the sun above he estimates he has about 3 hours till sun down.
Sighing he gets up, “better build somewhere to sleep for the night, stretching, feeling full and hydrated Sage begins collecting cutting large branches each about his height in length, and searching for a suitably large fallen tree closer to his location and the ever precious black berry bush. After a few minutes of searching he finds a small tree trunk looking like it is nearly chewed through at the base of its trunk leaning about 45 degrees.
Not seeing any better replacements Sage begins to pull, the tree small snaps the only motivation he needs to keep going until, pull downward making use of his weight and bouncing to pull the tree more and more until a large snap. Falling eyes wide, Sage screams as the tree lands on his left shoulder, pain radiating from the spot he manages to squirm out of the freshly fallen tree. He left arm sore, but fortunately not limp. Hefting one of the fallen ends to his right shoulder, he begins to pull the tree until he gets to his scouted out area earlier there two stocky trees he found in his earlier search stand proud and short, slowly methodically he begins to trim back smaller branches and leaves until a clear large fork in the branches is clear on both trees.
Periodically having to re-knap his knife, or replace the flint all together, his shelter slowly came together. The two stocky trees placed a little more than his height apart; he props the end of the fallen tree into where the branches fork on the stocky trees only about as tall as his shoulder above the ground.
After setting up the main support of his lean to, he begins to bring over the longer branches he gathered earlier, slowly digging them shallowly into the ground and leaning them against the main support he begins to see the start of his home, while not perfect in size and shape like when he trained, creating this structure the craftsmanship still gives him a sense of pride, and accomplishment feeling both for the first time,
Hours past the dusk light, Sage looks down at his knife and frowns, “tomorrow, tomorrow you are getting an upgrade.”
After setting up 8 branches leaning on the main supports on both sides of the lean to, he begins to add smaller fronds still equipped with leaves and pine needles. Grabbing a few reeds from the nearby river he shaves off strips with his knife to allow him to bind the fronds to his lean-to frame. Slowly, the walls of his structure fill out adding protection from wind and rain. Now truly dark, he takes the leaves he has left and places them on the floor of his lean to and lays down for a much needed rest for the night.
Falling asleep quickly he awakes after what seems like minutes, rain pouring his body shivering he curls into as small of a ball as possible and closes his eyes tight. Fading in and out of sleep most of the night, his chill so true he can feel it in his bones.
Truly entering sleep at some point in the night he finally awakes, sun shining once more, his clothes still damp, he emerges from his structure. While it kept out much of the rain it still let too much in his opinion . After quickly eating some more black berries, and burying a few, maybe my brothers and sisters will enter this same trial, best to have food for them as well.
Removing some of his cloth clothing, he began looking up at the sun appreciating the warmth, he slowly began to break off a few more fronds from nearby trees adding to the walls and floor of his lean-to until he is satisfied, after upgrading his living situation he pulls out his shoddily made stone knife, “Now your turn” finding a rock about the size of his face but thin and another the size of his palm in the river nearby he begins to slowly chip the face sized rock into a blade shape grinding it on the wet rocks of the river, using his existing knife to notch the palm sized blade nearer the base.
After spending about 30 minutes, minutes… time, shuddering at the knowledge entering his mind, and the implications of such, Sage shuddered and continued to work, getting the shape correct and finding a stick with a fork about two thumbs in diameter and his forearm in length he soaks the wood into the nearby river softening it, he begins to notch the fork a little more with his shoddy knife, after prepping the handle and blade, he looks to the reeds by the river, once again shaving the reads for binding material he does several wraps and passes until the snuggly fit blade and handle don’t have any shake.
Looking at his new knife, and admiring the work he made, he was beaming. Nearly as good as during the lessons he thought. Broken from his idle fancy, he heard a rustle in the bush behind him, startled, he spun, holding his old blade in his right hand and new blade in his left hand.
The tension returning, feeling coiled, ready to strike, his breath catches staring at the bush near the river. Comes a knee high creature, nearly round, thick brown fur and beady eyes, claws held near its chest and nose sniffing, its front teeth large and curved, and a large flat tail slapping behind it. The look in its eyes holding even more malice than the goblin caused him to step back, the river to his back. The creature stepping forward after him, a low grunting growl escaping its lips, this brown ball of hate and anger began charging and jumping at him, its low growl crescendoing into a large growl, it’s tail slapping not ceasing, only with slight hesitation Sage shoves both his knives forward the crazed animal impaling itself on his large new blade the other smaller blade sliding to the side and wrenching out of his hand. The creatures momentum carries him back another step, slipping on the river rock and falling back into the river, landing hard on shallow rocks, punching and twisting the knife trying to get a hold of the creatures as it claws and chews his arm, its fur too slick upon entering the water, his knife the only thing to give it purchase rolling they end nearing the center. Sage finds himself standing in the river, water up to his chest, putting both hands on the knife still lodged in the creature and pulling upward with all the strength he could muster the knife slashes through the brown furred monster, and it finally stills. Grabbing its large flat tail and pulling it to the nearest river bank and rolling it on the shore.
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His breath heavy and body bruised, Sage sat, his arm bleeding profusely where it bit, his back sore and bruised from landing on the river stones, the creature was impressive it weighed likely more than the goblin, slowly he dragged himself upon shore as well, his bare arm, shredded and still bleeding.
Realizing his blunder, Sage curses; his smaller old dagger nowhere to be found made him even more thankful he created his larger one. Washing his bloody arm in the river he gets up stiffly, with a wobble. The pains in his back and arm, now even greater after taking a moment's respite.
Dragging the creature with him down the river he made it back to his shelter, deciding to make a fire, he gathered a small kindling, carved some bark, scraped wood shavings and a few larger pieces of loose dry wood. Attempting to recall the lessons he began notching a piece of wood, setting a long stick in the notch and some of the wood shavings; Sage began to rotate the stick back and forth between his palms as quickly as possible, the same way he was shown in his training session.
After several tries eventually smoke begins to pour from the notch and the shavings catch. Using the bark to scoop the smoldering shavings and some loose foliage, blowing on the embers to keep it stoked he starts a small fire. Ignoring his several failed attempts he keeps an eye on his fire, adding wood and moving the lit pieces with a stick.
After being satisfied with the state of his fire, he began the arduous process of skinning the brown fur devil that attacked him, still shuddering at the viciousness it held in its stare, Sage begins to skin, slitting down the stomach with his stone knife, scraping around slowly and carefully to keep the skin in one piece pulling where he could.
After soaking the furs for some time, he hung the fur over a tree near his lean-to, and looked at the meat he’s left with. Trying to apply his butchering knowledge to this unknown creature, he only gets about four and a half fists full of useful meat from the creature. Planning to cook it on the fire and hoping it is safe to eat, he pats the poison berries in his makeshift pouch for reassurance.
Sage looking at the tail wondering what to do with it, the texture already reminds him of finished leather, and finer than any he created during his time training at creating leather. Carefully he slices an edge of the tail, and skinning the fat away. Surprisingly nearly the entire interior of the tail is fat, setting it aside and carefully scraping away the tail leathers and keeping it as one piece he ponders what to do with it. After skinning the fur, and tail, washing them in the river, and hanging them to dry, Sage stokes his fire once more, prepping it to cook his hard earned meat, his mouth already watering.
Cutting the majority into thin strips, washing off dirt and grime, Sage set up a spit to hang over the fire. Draping the thin meat strips over, while waiting for his jerky to be made. Saving a thicker piece of meat from the creatures flank, he sets it on a stone nearer the center of the fire, mouth watering Sage waits, slowly deburring and whittling a larger branch down to a point for future hunting since letting creatures with large teeth get close to him has treated him very poorly so far.
Laughing Sage sighs “I’ve been bitten by more creatures then I’ve talked too” his laugh ringing hollow in his ears Sage stared into the fire, feeling loneliness for the first time. Taking his piece of meat off the fire and slowly eating it after it’s cooled down some, he sits contentedly looking at the hanging meat strips while eating, enjoying the simplicity of the action.
Stirring and adding more wood to the fire he gets up and heads toward the river, removing his clothes and hanging them, washing his face and arm off once again in the river, Sage breathing out a shaky breath, looks West to the setting sun, sinking in slowly, resting down up to his neck, in the cold flowing water, looking to the Tree canopy above.
As he relaxed, and fell in tune with his surroundings, more and more wildlife made itself known. The sun setting and his eyes adjusting prompted him to see small creatures; squirrels he thought to himself, the critter’s name coming to his mind unbidden, birds fluttering in the sky above, clouds moving slowly. He smiles once again while lonely, he has to admit he enjoys his current environment, he feels relaxed, and at home. After washing more of the grime of his rough day off of him, he leaves the river to sit by the fire, removing the now dried jerky he sets them aside and into his lean-to.
While returning to the fire, with the animal skin and tail he positions them suspended tightly between sticks using his river reed strips and close the skins around the fire to treat the skins. Looking at his dirty clothes he decides he should wash them as soon as possible, as his once pristine white shirt and pants were now, a motley brown and green, ripped and torn. Crouching beneath the skins, he prods the fire once more, not noticing the predator watching him from the forest, a quick snarl all the warning Sage had as another creature lands on his bare back, the hot breath on his neck lets him know it was inches away from clamping its jaws onto him.
Landing hard on his chest beside the fire, his anger turning unbridled, and his vision turning red, he snarls back at the creature twisting violently; the creature nimbly jumping off, not before raking its claws down his back. The smell of iron and his hot blood dripping down his back permeating the air, Sage looks at the creature, no at the monster that just attacked him. Larger, fur darker, eyes the most vicious and vindictive he’s seen.
Another of the brown furred demons with the large flat tails have come to attack him. Grabbing his spear from near the fire, eyes never leaving the evil beast before him Sage screams a roar in challenge, the blood dripping down his back fuel for his boundless wrath.
“Leave, leave me alone,” gritting his teeth and his eyes hard he finishes his statement “I don’t want to kill you.”
The monster, uncomprehending or just uncaring, perhaps a mixture between began a familiar low growl and bark showing its large front teeth and charging toward him, no hesitation in his movement Sage points his spear tip at the creature's rushing form and stabs out with a mighty yell. The thrust while bringing him forward was unready for the creature's weight and momentum and glances off its skull, leaving a thick gash across its face.
Still charging the monster charged into his left leg, still off balance from his thrust Sage lands hard, his spear trapped beneath him. The creature unhesitatingly turns and sinks its teeth deep into the right leg gnawing, pain unlike any of his previous wounds wracks Sage and he kicks out with a force he didn't know he had launching the monster back into the fire. A scream unlike anything he had heard before or wants to hear again erupts from the creature as it scampers away back into the woods.
Standing unsteadily, weight propped on his left leg and spear, Sage limps toward the river to wash his wound, in the river, looking down at his calf, a large puncture wound, heavy amounts of blood still pouring Sage winces. His kick, though effective, looks to have torn the wound large than it originally was. Looking back to the fire, he gets up and limps toward it, setting the end of a stick into it and raising his bleeding leg high and waiting. He recalled witnessing this in his training, but hoped never to use it.
After several minutes he removes the now flaming stick, breathes heavily and rapidly, knowing this is a pour option and hoping he does not infect his wound, knowing from his medicinal method that's as good as death, he pushes the stick hard against his leg wound, 1 second then 2, them 3 agonizing each more so then the last he loses consciousness. Upon awakening, the fire was still going.Only out for only a few minutes then; the sickly smell of burnt flesh in the air.
Looking down at his calf he winces. The wound is closed and stopped bleeding, but the burn left behind isn’t much better. Hobbling once more to the river he washes his burned leg, relief nearly instant. The pain radiating out, nearly unbearable, punching his fist into the water he screams, too weak.
Knowing he needed some medical herbs to cover to protect the wound. He gets up, takes his pants and washes them in the river, scrubbing the fabric with itself, eventually clean enough he does the same with his shirt, ripping the left sleeve off the shirt he fashions a bandage and ties it tight around his calf. Putting on the pants and his now sleeveless shirt, getting his spear and his knife he searches up stream once more this time, in the dark, a flaming stick his only bastian of light. Recalling the lesson he knows the plant he needs for a salve broadleaf, traveling for what by his measure must have been long he comes to a strange site. The forest seems to come to a hard delineating line, and beyond, the sky seems to blend to a black starry void. The river seemed to enter the void through the barrier, escaping into the nothingness, the nothingness he so craved. The site of it is beautiful, the stars having some unnatural pull on Sage, one in particular seemed to sing to him, walking carefully towards the spot where the world seems to cut off into the starry void, he reaches his hand out carefully, a large smooth like barrier seems to separate him from the void, his movements halted by it.
Resting his hand on the strange barrier, he looks to his right, then his left, spotting what looks like a small patch of the broadleaf plant he was looking for; he smiles. Grabbing the broad leaf, Sage begins to chew it vigorously, unwrapping his wound, he takes the chewed leaf and applies it carefully around the tender area, sucking in a deep breath and leaning his back against the invisible barrier, as he rests, breathing slowly, he re wraps his wound, his broadleaf poultice applied, and looks to the small bushel of broadleaf, growing right along the barrier, carefully he digs up the roots, and takes out the plant and awkwardly carries it while trying not to put weight onto his right leg.
Making his way back to his camp much slower then he left, he replants the broadleaf plant near his berry bush, grabbing a few more leaves and eating them knowing it will assist in preventing infection, a few feet away he also plants the poisonous berries he found earlier. Sage smirks, while his second day surviving in the forest had been rough, if he continued to collect plants for his small garden and improve his tools and shelter he should be able to thrive for the foreseeable future.
Limping back to his lean-to he adds a few more fronds focusing near the top, after adding all pieces he had collected, he looks to his water filter or his former shirt sleeve and frowns, while not the best filtration method, the river is fairly clean, but now that he has fire, boiling the water would be best, if only he could find a container or something to use as a container.
Looking at his surroundings he sat stumped, after sometime his eyes looked to the creatures skull and large teeth, taking his knife and carving away he frowns, the skull much to angular and small to effectively hold water, but the large teeth seem to seamlessly mesh with the skull, for whittling wood and fiber cutting it would likely make a better tool then his knife, no matter how carefully he made it.
Washing and defleshing the skull in the river to remove the last of the viscera, he sits by the bank, the sun beginning to dusk, he thinks back to where he found the broad leaf, the strange barrier, the starry void in the distance, the calling deep within himself. Unconsciously touching his stomach, a hunger, not the hunger of lack of food but a lack of something, something deep and fundamental.
Breaking his introspection he looks back down at his calf once more, the wound he took was deep and its throbbing pain still had not cease, hissing as he removed the bandage, he washes off the poultice and rinses it off in the river once more, looking down at his wound angry red and scabbed over. Hobbling over to his broadleaf plant and taking a few more leaves he chews a few up and reapplies the poultice, wrapping lightly, and consumes the others raw. Deciding his plants needed some water, he grabbed some with his cloth and hobbled to and from the small river as quickly as possible. The day passed by quite slowly and uneventful, the throbbing in his leg making all his actions take much longer than they usually would.
Stoking the fire once more, and setting his skins once again around it, he thought of the other brown haired creature that attacked him, looking back to the bush where it must of attacked from, Sage tightly grabs his knife and roars in the direction.
Some primal part of him pushes the fear into anger, into almost hope of it returning, daring it to return. Breathing heavily, still gripping his knife tightly he hobbles back to the lean to and lays down eyes flicking to the bush from time to time, until sleep slowly takes him. Sages dreams seemed strange, three faces watching him each distinct, but each the same, one smiling warmly, one looking on curiously, and one frowning; his fight with the large brown furred creature replays once again but this time the spear missing, this time the creature chewing through his leg, up his waist all the way to his throat, awakening screaming knife lashing out, Sage pants heavily, heart pounding so hard it thunders in his ears, head whipping around his camp, the fire burned down to ash forrest still and silent.
Getting up on shaky legs he limps over to the suspended skins, looking at the curing process from the smoke, one more day of smoking and they should be ready. Remembering his wound, oddly not throbbing he looks down, unwrapping the homemade bandage, and washing it once more in the river removing the poultice, the wound looking much better, strangely better. Seemingly days of healing happened over night, though his training only briefly covered recovery time, burns were usually a lengthy process, pinching his eyebrows, and studying it a little more closely.
In amazement he realized it was only slightly swollen and washing away much of the puss and blood that accumulated overnight a healthy if fresh scab had formed where he cauterized the original puncture. Still tender and small, he limps over to his broad leaf plant and frowns once more the plant appears to have re-populated with more leaves overnight, and the other black berry, and poison berry bushes he had planted already sprouted.
Not enough knowledge to explain the plant growth, or his healing but enough to question if he is in a normal forest, both these strange occurrences benefit him, still pondering it, he gathers more wood searching around for fallen branches, loose kindling shaving some plant fibers with his new skull knife, and gathering dried foliage, he restarts his fire once more, after stoking it and ensuring it has a healthy blaze, Sage goes to the river washes his body.
The cold water sobered him, the bounds of this trial seemed strange, what was the purpose of all this? Simple survival? He supposed perseverance and surviving was a strength in itself, and the creature, perhaps his true test was the brown furred monster who stalked him.