It was one at first and then they came in groups. Though initially wary, we welcomed them in peace, fed them our food and offered our shelter. Creatures smaller than us bearing strange garments proclaimed they came in the name of religion and despite the difficulty in communicating, with open hearts, we listened. But then, they searched our land and found a rock. A beautiful rock of shining blue.
- Translated from an engraved tablet of the third elder shaman .
“Get up!”
A mighty roar, vibrated throughout the vast expanse of white.
“I said get up!” the gravelly voice repeated.
You cried to protest but it was only met with a strong punch to the gut.
“How do you expect to defend yourself?”
The youngling dwarfed against the massive body of his father tried to get up in vain. Your body was covered in cuts and bruises. Every muscle screamed in pain. The training you were put into for over a year still had no visible improvement.
Gifted with a great physique for a youngling, albeit smaller, you never saw yourself as a fighter. Improving the tribe’s livelihood through proper living conditions and healing medicine was what you always yearned for. Time and time again, these wishes were always brushed off.
“That is a coward’s excuse! As long as I am your father, you will always be a fighter!” He reprimanded.
For hours, the intense regimen continued amidst the plea to stop. Jaha was a champion and a breed above the rest. He was by no means the smartest among the village but when it came to fighting, everybody respected him. It was his belief to pass on the greatest gift he could give to you his son, a fighting chance.
Roaming around the village always gave you a sense of comfort. It was a mixture of tents surrounding a nearby cave in the deepest parts of the southern forest. The cold wind blew harshly at your face and even though a large bonfire was set up in the middle of the village, the freezing atmosphere never bothered you too much. Everyone in the tribe had thick fur covering their body. To fend off any outsider, all of you were gifted with incomparable strength and to top it off, three protruding horns on the head that stood tall to intimidate any nearby foe.
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Your kind was known as the Algox of Al-Shuma, a sect who worshipped the wind god who bore the same name. It was he who protects the tribe from any harm by creating the harsh winter climate of which only your race could thrive; he is the representation of endurance and strength. It was said, that a deep faith to Al-Shuma would render one immune to the cold while gaining enhanced abilities.
“Start preparing our dinner.” Your father ordered as he passed by your side. “I must attend to the chief. Our scouts have reported that humans have fortified the sacred land once again with wooden barricade. Damn these creatures! I won’t let our brethren’s sacrifice end in vain!”
Jaha headed to the cave where the elder shaman lived. From afar, one would think that your father was the chief but in the Al-Shuma tribe, wisdom was valued a little greater than brute strength. Therefore, it was the village’s elder shaman who held the final decision for everything.
You sniff the air filled with the scent of cooking meat. The Algox were once a wild group who acted like savages but with the teachings that started from the third elder shaman, your tribe learned how build a civilization akin to the humans. Because of this, your tribe was shunned by the other sects of Algox.
“You don’t mind me getting a piece of that, don’t you?”
A large figure sat beside you. His weight shook the ground beneath you as he sat by the campfire. The logs shifted and cinders scattered like fireflies. You recognized him. It was Jaha’s second in command, Bolur, known for his proficiency with the bow. You gave him a leg piece of the carcass to which he wolfed down in a heartbeat.
“Tell you what! Next time I catch one of those humans, I’m going to bring it to you so we can have a taste.” He laughed. “I’ve never tasted a cooked human before. Those I took a bite off smelled bad and those hard shiny shells they wore always got stuck in between my teeth.”
The kind offer sent a shiver to your spine. For years, war has been waged with the humans and other races who sided with them. Occassionally, even your distant cousins, the Inox, became mercenaries who hunted down your people. Losses were always inevitable on both sides. For you, both your mother and your sister never returned from their usual hunt.
“I hear you haven’t improved on your fighting skills.” He teased as you nodded to agree. “You have done well providing healing ointment for our fighter’s wounds but you must also learn to fight, If not to go to war to reclaim the sacred land, then for the sake of defending our tribe.”
His kind words revitalized your dampened spirit and as a reward you handed him another piece.
“These creatures look at us condescendingly! You can see it in their faces. They think we can’t understand them and just degrade us as dumb creatures. My blood boils every time I see them.” He punched the ground leaving a mark of his fist. The logs were about to crumble but managed to hold its shape. “What good is it to coexist with them? It is better that they fear us. That way-“
“GRAAAAAGGGGHHH!!!”
Jaha’s roar reverberated throughout the village.
Bolur’s irritated face was replaced with suppressed but concentrated fury as he stood up. He reached for his bow and ran to Jaha’s side.
The quiet evening was replaced with unified roars intermixed with the cold wind. Fighters gathered in the mouth of the cave along with the shamans and archers. Their stomps caused the bonfire to collapse and the fire turned to a small flame until it eventually disappeared, snuffed from its fleeting existence.
This only meant one thing. They were going to raid that certain outpost once again…
Frosthaven.