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The Riling - Riling the Cubs [Special]

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Job Name: Riling the cubs
Job Rank: B
Job Location: The Tundra
Job Reward:15,000 Huang and 200 EXP.
Job Prerequisites: Finished a sabretooth's den
Job Overview: Voda has now reached probably the hardest tasks given to him by Asisiak. The first of these three labors were for Voda to see out raiders or vikingrs who would take up arms and work as a fighting force underneath the elite sabretooths. He could do this with flyers, talking to a crowd or how he sees fit so long as he gets out the word to a large audience.


The huntsman had been successful with his burn, disposing of the creatures body and hopefully preventing the creature from spreading its affliction. His return would be a few days later and from there he was able to head out on hunts and observe the efforts being made by the Imuchakk to construct the Saber Grounds.

It would be a while later before he received another missive from the Chief that would demand more of the huntsman. Though he had to have another read her writing, due to the huntsman's own inability to understand the vast majority of the written tongue.

The High Chief's instructions were rather complicated for the rather simple man. He wasn't a man of charisma rather a man of the hunt and the Chief desired for the huntsman to set out recruiting those that would assist and serve the Sabertooth Warriors, the Imuchakk's strongest and most capable assets under the High Chief herself.

He however was not someone capable of such work of words. He struggled to talk more often than not and language both spoken and written was not something he had ever taken much time to study. Rather the huntsman worked with simple words in both written and spoken verses and pictures supported much of his "written" work.

The huntsman had only a few choices ahead of him and at the very least their was one individual that sat in his recent memory that could very well assist the huntsman in this matter by being able to use their reputation and Vodarara hoped an ability to speak to their fellow Imuchakk.

The young shaman adept that had healed the hunters injury that he had suffered at the maw of a cave stalker and would have left him arguably somewhat crippled for the rest of his life. To walk and hunt with a limp would have been quite the challenge, though the huntsman always knew that one day he would keel over and die in the snow.

He honestly believed that when such a thing happened that he would be swiftly forgotten, he did not see himself as a being of ballad and rather secluded himself away from such things the vast majority of the time.
Fear or dread of his first proper contact with the Imuchakk still remained within him. After all, she took his shoulder from its socket with just a simple action.


The huntsman only had to track them down, he hoped that they had remained behind to work on the grounds otherwise it would be another hunt that the Huntsman didn't exactly know how long the Chief's patience would last for.

The last thing that Vodarara desired was to get on the wrong side of Asisiak after all.


WC: 456/1500




Over the course of time, he had grown stronger. His ability to reform to the power inside of him was balancing out. Out of every vessel he had possessed, this body was the most accomodating. It may have been owed to their exceptional control over the flow of magoi within themselves. While unable to form their technique for himself, his usage of magic was lent as an excuse. As frustrating it had been for the phoenix, the feat seemed far from possible.

The construction and organization of the settlement had been going as planned. Rameses was one to expect many possibilities. Though he had to admit, a herd of very lazy yak passing through wasn’t one of them. After trampling some foundations, it set them back a few days. Even with the few kinks, they managed to work them all out.

At times, he would think of the strange human he had healed prior. There was unspoken respect for the man. He had hoped the next time they met wouldn’t be where he is in another precarious situation as he were. A life with such injuries could not be pleasant. But such was the life of a hunter.

A pair of white dogs stride at his heels, their maws painted red with blood. The corpse of a large boar dragged behind them, tied to their harnesses. He beckons them with slight taps of his spear as they make their way inside the settlement.

“Ah, you’re back.”

Rameses turns his head slightly, bringing the Imuchakk into view. She was a member of his village who had been helping with the project. A capable butcher but even more so as a warrior when the situation called for it.

The dogs clamor to the woman, staining her furs with the blood on their snouts. She laughs, giving their heads a playful shake before turning her attention back to the phoenix. “I think they’ll feel better with this boar off their hind.” He smiles, leaning down to untie them. Only to find her hand in his face, halting him. “No, no. I got it. Go rest. You’ve been gone for two nights.”

With a chuckle, he nods, “Sure.” It was not his place to complain. This body of his had grown quite sore. If there were springs, he would bathe. Alas, something less luxurious would have to do.

As for now, he decided to do what he always did after a long hunt. Seating himself in front of the pyre, he clasps his hands together, eyes closed in meditation. The sooner he regained his true strength, the better.



[b]Name:[/b] Talon of the Phoenix
[b]Tier:[/b] C
[b]Type:[/b] Spear
[b]Material:[/b] Gold-Plated Rampaging Unicorn Horn
[b]Appearance:[/b] A well-crafted spear made from a rampaging unicorn horn and dipped in a layer of gold. It is 426 cm ( 14 ft ) in length.


The Riling - Riling the Cubs [Special] 7rvaACd



While it didn’t take long for the huntsman to find out about the location of the Shaman-adept whom he desired to procure the services of. It took far longer for him to prepare himself to interact with an individual whom he was intending to request the services of to deal with a situation that he rather hated and had little to no skills with.

That was interacting and speaking with people. He was just a mere huntsman and while he plied his trade, a shaman would one day be an individual of greater reverence much like the sabertooth’s that Asisiak had requested Vodarara to work on. The huntsman never really saw himself as much of an individual to be worthy of memory after all.

The huntsman would find the Shaman-Adept near a pyre, his keen eyes had already observed the young adept with a woman of the village and her hounds whom had seemingly either brushed him off or had sent him off to relax, though it wasn’t like the huntsman generally worried much in regards to the matter of mated pairs or rather the intracosys of relationships beyond understanding that they had very close family environments, sort of like what he had with his companion beasts.

The huntsman approached the lad and sat himself down near the toasty pyre that broke the chill of the frigid environment that he felt. He wasn’t exactly sure if the Imuchakk used it for warmth given their ability to tolerate the frigid cold with ease but rather maybe it was simply light and a way for them to cook. Fire however was a source of life for the hunter whom without it would have either a really hard night or be a ice cold corpse without it.

The huntsman would eventually say to the youngster, “This one requires your voice…”
He glanced around as he was sure that the female would eventually return or rather if she did, he had no intention of getting in the way of her prey, if that was what you’d call it.

Vodarara’s mentality in regards to dealing with the female members of Imuchakk was mainly forged from his experiences with Asisiak, that was don’t get in their way.

Continuing after his glances, “For Sun Rise”

That huntsman hoped that the adept’s abilities would prove useful for recruiting, where he was without skill or talent.

WC: 398

TWC 854/1500




Vodarara would sadly not be blessed with the assistance of the Shaman-Adept whom had other duties that took them away from the Huntsman’s assignment. Thusly to fulfill the request of his Chief, his Patriach, Asisiak.
The huntsman, Vodarara had to come up with a different scheme and methodology to aid in the recruitment of warriors to the ranks of the hands of the Sabertooth Warriors, he was no speaker, he was a hunter and thusly he had to rely on others like he had first intended to make use of the Shaman-Adept to fulfil the trial that he had been set upon.

The Village Chiefs and Elders were the greatest port of call to the huntsman as he would begin to journey through the tundra, across the snow wastes, through the mountain parses and under the limited canopies of the few species of trees that could survive in the harsh wilderness that was Imuchakk.
Town by town he would go, fulfilling requests of Elders and Chiefs to hunt beasts, bring offerings and a number of other miscellaneous tasks that were required of him to gain their services to speak with their people and send off hands to become warriors.

Such an “adventure” served as a way for the Huntsman to hear word of individuals that would be worth travelling into the Hamlets and Homesteads away from the more major settlements that the Imuchakk had set up and would prove as targets for later individuals to seek for the Sabertooth’s themselves but that was a later part of the story.

Days would turn to Months as the Huntsman trudged through snow to fulfil the request, the man’s muscles and bones always feeling tired and worn but that was the test of the wilderness, the cold of this land.
It wasn’t built for his kind and for one like himself to survive in the harsh wilds was all too rare.

He couldn’t exactly know why the Chief had given him such a mission, speaking with people wasn’t his expertise and neither was working with others. Maybe she intended him to gain some new skills but that didn’t cross the huntsman’s mind after all he was an old dog and it was rather hard to teach an old dog a new trick.
Thus he’d pursued this route, travelling across the icepac seeking out Chief’s making use of renown of old or fulfilling duties. From the Chief of the Tribe where Vodarara encountered the Dragon whom’s burrow mates were now forged into his gauntlet.

It did at least somewhat enlighten the rather dense hunter to the relationship he had built across Imuchakk during his years as a member of their tribe, since Asisiak by what Vodarara viewed as force had pressed him into “joining” them, he had the opportunity to trade and recover. Such a thing would have not been possible in the past as the huntsman lived alone and from there his “family” had grown, he was now joined by a pair of companions.

He’d survived a number of relatively deadly encounters, had to fight foreign invaders and been forced to travel outside the land in his time. However, he always preferred to be back here, even if it was painful, taxing, it had become home and he didn’t exactly know where his true home was and he didn’t care.

The Chief’s request that he had delivered would be in the hands of Elders and Chiefs now and it solely relied on the actions of the Huntsman’s past. After all, whom would have expected the Chief to ask the one that hardly spoke and when he did it was almost in riddles to be sent on such a challenge by the High Chief.
Word would spread like it always did for the Imuchakk, the word of the people, the word of their Elders around the Campfires, where every generation would one day tell their stories.

The Imuchakk had seen much loss when their First and Second-born Sabertooth’s had died but now was the possibility of a new age for the young. Vodarara’s job had been to set out the opportunity for that to happen and such actions were likely moving towards the last major acts of the Huntsman’s life.
He was fortunate to have met the Shaman-Adept, his healing had honestly restored quite the vigour to the Huntsman but it had brought into stark contrast how weary his body had become. He was sure that it would only grow more challenging with time.

He wondered how he would die, would it be a beast that killed him, disease or would he just fall over in the snow, one day.
The next letter from the Chief sat in his hand, the young would make way for the old. Someone may take his mantle one day, just like the Sabertooth’s were now and Asisiak herself would also one day have the same fate but the Huntsman felt that would most certainly be after his time.

WC: 832



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