1: I Am the Alpha
The icy wind wound its way through the snow-covered branches of the trees as the low-hanging winter sun reached its apex in the sky, its rays mostly blocked by the woods. Within the dancing shadows of the forests moved creatures, both small and large, some walking on four legs, and others, two...
A black bear tore at its kill, a caribou, ripping the skin to reach the precious meat underneath, unaware of the other creatures quietly approaching it in the shade. It took another bite of the muscle and swallowed when suddenly a roar rang out and a strange white beast with long black hair and icy blue eyes clambered into the clearing. The beast wore the pelt of the bear's brothers and roared their cry, challenging the bear. Unyielding, the black bear reared back onto its own back legs as well and shouted back, demanding the beast leave it be. But there the answer came back louder, and in multitudes. A dozen of the beasts joined the first, clothed in the pelts of other animals, roaring. Fearing defeat and death, the black bear decided to retreat from its kill, scrambling into the brush.
Four of the men latched onto the dead caribou and lifted it up, preparing to bring it back to the camp. Bear-pelt grunted something to the others and they formed up together, disappearing into the brush in the opposite direction the black bear had run. Their families would all appreciate the meat back at the settlement...
Rarshed wasn't much. A small assembly of huts on a nearly barren tundra, surrounded by plentiful game and fish in the sea. But it was home to Bear-pelt, otherwise known as Grrum. He held no formal title, for the people had no concept of formalities, but he was the de facto leader of the settlement. The Alpha, his people looked away from his gaze in submission, for he was a brutish, muscularly lean man. Though, they were not many people.
There were some smiles as the men brought the scavenged kill to the center of Rarshed, though no cheers. Times were hard. They were always hard in the tundra, where Man had to work tooth and nail to survive. The soil was unsuitable for crops. Consequently, the people of Rarshed relied entirely on hunting and foraging, and it wasn't easy to hunt the game of the tundra.
They were hard, tough people, even the women and the children. Most of the children died early as well, either from exposure, starvation, predators, or disease. Their strength would become extremely important later on, but for now, it merely helped them to eke out what little life they could from the barrens.
Grrum grunted to his men to begin skinning the beast. They would use every single part of it, the skin, bones, meat, everything. The people of Rarshed had little choice. It would be cooked and prepared for the whole village by that night, but in the meantime, Grrum had other business.
He made his way towards his hut, no larger than the others, keenly aware of the bitingly cold wind blowing between the shoddy structures. It was not uncommon for the buildings to collapse. But he did not fear this, for he feared very little as he entered the hut. Within, a small fire illuminated and warmed the inside. A woman cried out in pain as she clutched her belly, drawing Grrum's attention for a moment. His second wife was in labor with his third wife and a few of his daughters attending to the woman.
The brute grunted. The matter did not concern him, birth was not a man's job. Grrum hoped for another strong son to come of the wife as he walked over to his firstborn son who was watching the ordeal with fascination, "Do not watch. Not woman. You, man. Come." The boy barely had any of his father's thick black facial hair as he got to his feet and followed the man out of the hut, "Yes?"
"Shhum, man now, must learn, must take place." Grrum briskly walked towards the central firepit, snow crunching beneath his feet. Villagers passed and looked away from the pair as the boy simply followed his father closely. They quickly came upon the pit. The caribou was surrounded by men working on it, men brushed aside by Grrum who snatched a stone knife from one of them and held it out to Shhum, "Cut heart. Eat."
The boy knew better than to refuse an order, though he did not wish to cut the dead animal, he took the knife and set about it, cutting through skin, doing his best to crack the ribcage and move it out of the way, until finally, he had the heart in his hands. The men were already cooking the rest of the meat on the fire as the rest of the village had assembled. Night had fallen and the stars had come out, the brilliant Milky Way strewn across the sky. In the south, the aurora danced its beautiful dance.
Grrum announced, "Today, Shhum Grrumdun, not boy. Today, man." The brute motioned to Shhum, his eyes ordering the boy to eat. He did as he was told, quickly forcing himself to take a bit of the raw heart, chew, and swallow. The rest of the village let out a few roars and shouts as Grrum yelled, "Eat!" They set about it immediately, tearing into the rest of the animal.
Shhum, meanwhile, sighed and took another bite. As he chewed, he watched the aurora's dance, mesmerized by it. He wished he could dance along with it...
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The sun beat down on the Shhum's brow as he crouched and traced out the footprints of a man he was tracking. It was much hotter here than at home in Rarshed, and the grasses grew thicker as well. The yellow brush swayed in the wind as the man got to his feet. "Close?" asked Daruum, one of the pair Shhum had brought with him on their journey. "Close."
The trio of men took off after the tracks, Shhum watching them closely, changing direction when they changed direction. The steps were close together, meaning these men were walking. Eventually they would catch them. They'd been tracking this group for almost a week as they ran quietly across the savannah.
Half an hour later, they found them. Six men, walking together with clubs and other equipment. They had to be scouting, as there was no settlement anywhere nearby that Shhum near of. Daruum whispered, "Too many fight. Die." Shhum motioned him to relax, "No fight. Track. Follow. Find home."
They followed the men another three days before they finally returned to their home. Smoke in the sky told them they were close, causing Shhum to order his men to stand back on the hills and wait. The foreigners crossed a river and made their way through a field of white bush-plants before finally disappearing in the horizon. The three men remained lying on the hilltop as Shhum thought back over the path they took before finally deciding this these people lived to the east of Rarshed. He decided he would have to investigate closer later as he stood, "Come, go home. Tell brother." The trio ran down the other side of the hill, eager to inform their home of the possible danger.
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The wind whipped at Shhum's grizzled face. It had been many, many years since the night he'd eaten the caribou heart, and how far he had come in his adventures. Plainsmen to the east, small clusters of men throughout the tundras. But this was not a normal wind, no. It was a hot wind. A damn hot wind, with incredibly annoying pieces of what Shhum could only assume was some strange dirt. He tried to spit some of the grit out of his mouth, but found no saliva to use. Grumbling, the tundrawalker took another swig from the waterskin and looked across the deserts and patches of green at a city in the distance. The tundrawalker could see people tending to small gardens and other patches of land along the river.
This one was to the north of Rarshed, nestled in a hellishly hot land and full of this annoying dirt. It had been incredibly difficult to find, as the unusual dirt combined with the wind destroyed most of the tracks in the area quite quickly. But Shhum had done it. Daruum walked up next to him, clothed in the same thin skins, cape, and hood that Shhum was wearing and had designed for this journey, "What now?"
"Go home. Cannot trust. Sandwalkers north. Plainswalkers east. Sea west. Ice south." Shhum swiveled about on his heel and began walking back to the river to restock their supplies of water. Daruum and the others followed closely behind, "So?" The grizzled veteran looked back for a moment at the younger man, "So?? Nowhere else go! Much land taken!" Shhum grumbled. His brother wouldn't like this. Their people were beginning to ache for more land, better land, land that could actually yield crops and other sources of food. Their people were growing quickly. No doubt the sandwalkers and plainswalkers were growing even faster with their better land. Shhum didn't doubt that things would come to a head eventually. His people tired of the tundra...
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