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Cri'ru - Story Gallery Folder
ferroth.deviantart.com/gallery…

The sun sank below the glowing horizon, leaving the forest air damp with mists. The cliffs of Nahali cast long, great shadows, and everything beneath the forest canopy drew dark. Nocturnal birds cawed ominously in the distance, and insects chirped in the shadow's, breaking the tense silence.

After hunting amidst the ferns and shrubs for any sign of the Rikiti people, Kameilo's sensitive eyes spied a peculiar painted sign on the trunks of the one of the pine trees. She knew she was close now.

Moving fleetly and quietly as she could, she sprung to the side of the tree and examined the symbol. It was very similar, if not identical to the markings on the War Garune she had killed this morning.

“There must be a connection,” she thought. “This sign is cleaner and fresher than the one on the War garune.”

Kameilo had a faint memory from years past since she settled on Neako. The Rikiti used the sign of their claws to mark their passage through any given territory. Further more, they used the pigment in the vines of a bright red plant and mixed it with bird's eggs to make the paint.

“This looks like their claw,” Kameilo thought to herself. “But somethings different about it.”

Remembering to watch her surroundings on all sides, she asserted that she was alone and continued studying the sign.

“It's surrounded by a semi circle,” she noted in his thoughts. “The other half of the semi-circle is broken into seven dots. They didn't always used to do that.”

Out of curiosity, she lightly touched the dried pigment.

“Blood,” she noted mentally.

Her sensitive ear twitched at the most subtle brush of ferns from close by.

Quickly, she hid low under the cover of the ferns and of the twilight dark.

The silhouettes of two feathered rikiti moved quietly along her path, both wielding crossbows. They did not seem alert of her.

Kameilo held her breath. If these Rikiti truly where hostile, and if they caught her spying on them, she knew she wouldn't have long to fight or flee. So she laid low in the ferns, her eyes reflective in the dark, waiting for the right time to stalk them from afar.

When they had moved some distance, she crept to keep up with them, moving on all-fours ambidextrously.

After stalking them well into the end of twilight, she watched as they suddenly regarded each other and split their ways. Confused by this gesture, Kameilo quickly decided to follow one of them.

“Hopefully, they haven't become wise to me,” she thought. Again, she checked her surroundings...and finding no one close by, she continued to stalk only one of them. He seemed to be heading toward the cliff wall.

The longer she followed him, the more Kameilo wondered if she was making a mistake. The Rikiti were crafty ones. What if they had become alerted to her? Briefly, she imagined sneaking forward just a few paces more and suddenly flanked on both sides by Rikiti scouts. Or perhaps the one whom had split off from the other was going to return and ambush her from behind. She vacillated between going back and continuing forward.

Suddenly, she watched as the Rikiti she was stalking check his surroundings briefly.

She lay especially low.

After he seemed content, he passed through a soiled, dusty sheet—camouflaged to look like it was part of the wall of the cliff!

Kameilo's eyes opened round with intrigue. She began to hear speaking from behind the sheath.

Ever so carefully, she edged forward to the fake wall and listened. The Rikiti were speaking in Kalikinik—their native tongue.

“Any sign of the Krahn?” asked one.

“No,” said the other. “We last tracked him to a clearing close to the southern most part of Nahali. Our Garune was there too, slaughtered by knife.”

“Strange. Of what make?”

“Most likely Lacoan. We weren't able to track the Oca's pet Krahn any further. Two Lacoan scouts arrived and we had to take cover.”

“Then he is in the Lacoan village?”

Kameilo felt a tightening in her stomach.

“We're not sure yet. Evek said the Krahn's blood trail went further south, away from their village. He hasn't returned yet, but he may find out more when he arrives.”

Kameilo realized one of their scouts had tracked Nukoo to her home. She shifted her eyes warily for any sign of anyone else coming, but didn't have long to check.

“Let's go further down with the others,” one Rikiti's voice said. “The Exarch is going to make contact within the hour.”

Dare she follow them in?

Kameilo waited a while and peaked through the sheet into the mouth of a dark cavern. She could see the crimson glow of a torch where the cavern turned left, and also where the cavern forked right.

Her wild senses resonated with a disturbing vibe, and again, she thought of going back. Regardless, she knew this was her best chance to see what these Rikiti were doing. Boldly, she passed through and entered into the Rikiti cavern.

The aromatic scent of dry stone flooded the cavern air. Torches lit the walls beyond as the cavern descended down several steps. Keeping to the shadows and out of the torch-light as best she could, she proceeded down the cavern, ensuring no one saw her. At least not yet.

The cavern branched up ahead—one passage leading into the dark, the other lit by torch-light. Scrutinizing the way, she took stealthily to the darkened path—when her eyes adjusted, she found herself in a circular atrium packed with wooden crates on one end, and stashed weapons on the other.

“Those are more weapons than for a single Rakiti tribe,” Kameilo noted to herself.

Getting a closer look at them, she found spears with extra long spear heads. The poles of each spear had a wider reach and were reinforced with leather and husks. Next to the spears she found slings—a preferred weapon among the rakiti. Instead of rope, these were fashioned with chain. Beside them, she found hundreds of arrows—each with a barbed head.

Kameilo's ears drooped. “So it was a rakiti who shot Nukoo,” she moaned in her thoughts. “Who is influencing these people to make such horrible things?”

Turning around, she checked the other half of the atrium. The wooden crates were filled with smooth stones which had a creamy gray color. At first she thought the stones were for the slings, but they seemed too big to fit in them. Were they for construction? Because if they were, they seemed yet too small.

A shadow passed by outside the atrium and several Rakiti entered therein. Kameilo dashed behind the crates, curled up in a corner and kept vigilant.

“Place them in here,” said one Rakiti to the others. “Gently, and don't chip the stones.”

Kameilo heard the clatter of several stones being deposited in the crates close to where she hid.

“The Exarch was right,” another said. “It's all working, just as he instructed. The change of wind—the migration of the birds being thrown asunder. This wisdom is strange and wonderful.”

“I can only imagine what it will be like when everything is finished. Imagine, we'll be face to face with them.”

“That enough dawdling,” the instructing Rakiti ordered quietly. “The Exarch wants to see us, in the back.”

They took their leave, leaving Kameilo unnoticed, curled tightly in a little ball and pondering their words to herself.

*****

(Been a while since I continued this story. Thought I'd return to it, since it's one of the main ones I'm working on).

Description

Cri'ru - Story Gallery Folder
ferroth.deviantart.com/gallery…

The sun sank below the glowing horizon, leaving the forest air damp with mists. The cliffs of Nahali cast long, great shadows, and everything beneath the forest canopy drew dark. Nocturnal birds cawed ominously in the distance, and insects chirped in the shadow's, breaking the tense silence.

After hunting amidst the ferns and shrubs for any sign of the Rikiti people, Kameilo's sensitive eyes spied a peculiar painted sign on the trunks of the one of the pine trees. She knew she was close now.

Moving fleetly and quietly as she could, she sprung to the side of the tree and examined the symbol. It was very similar, if not identical to the markings on the War Garune she had killed this morning.

“There must be a connection,” she thought. “This sign is cleaner and fresher than the one on the War garune.”

Kameilo had a faint memory from years past since she settled on Neako. The Rikiti used the sign of their claws to mark their passage through any given territory. Further more, they used the pigment in the vines of a bright red plant and mixed it with bird's eggs to make the paint.

“This looks like their claw,” Kameilo thought to herself. “But somethings different about it.”

Remembering to watch her surroundings on all sides, she asserted that she was alone and continued studying the sign.

“It's surrounded by a semi circle,” she noted in his thoughts. “The other half of the semi-circle is broken into seven dots. They didn't always used to do that.”

Out of curiosity, she lightly touched the dried pigment.

“Blood,” she noted mentally.

Her sensitive ear twitched at the most subtle brush of ferns from close by.

Quickly, she hid low under the cover of the ferns and of the twilight dark.

The silhouettes of two feathered rikiti moved quietly along her path, both wielding crossbows. They did not seem alert of her.

Kameilo held her breath. If these Rikiti truly where hostile, and if they caught her spying on them, she knew she wouldn't have long to fight or flee. So she laid low in the ferns, her eyes reflective in the dark, waiting for the right time to stalk them from afar.

When they had moved some distance, she crept to keep up with them, moving on all-fours ambidextrously.

After stalking them well into the end of twilight, she watched as they suddenly regarded each other and split their ways. Confused by this gesture, Kameilo quickly decided to follow one of them.

“Hopefully, they haven't become wise to me,” she thought. Again, she checked her surroundings...and finding no one close by, she continued to stalk only one of them. He seemed to be heading toward the cliff wall.

The longer she followed him, the more Kameilo wondered if she was making a mistake. The Rikiti were crafty ones. What if they had become alerted to her? Briefly, she imagined sneaking forward just a few paces more and suddenly flanked on both sides by Rikiti scouts. Or perhaps the one whom had split off from the other was going to return and ambush her from behind. She vacillated between going back and continuing forward.

Suddenly, she watched as the Rikiti she was stalking check his surroundings briefly.

She lay especially low.

After he seemed content, he passed through a soiled, dusty sheet—camouflaged to look like it was part of the wall of the cliff!

Kameilo's eyes opened round with intrigue. She began to hear speaking from behind the sheath.

Ever so carefully, she edged forward to the fake wall and listened. The Rikiti were speaking in Kalikinik—their native tongue.

“Any sign of the Krahn?” asked one.

“No,” said the other. “We last tracked him to a clearing close to the southern most part of Nahali. Our Garune was there too, slaughtered by knife.”

“Strange. Of what make?”

“Most likely Lacoan. We weren't able to track the Oca's pet Krahn any further. Two Lacoan scouts arrived and we had to take cover.”

“Then he is in the Lacoan village?”

Kameilo felt a tightening in her stomach.

“We're not sure yet. Evek said the Krahn's blood trail went further south, away from their village. He hasn't returned yet, but he may find out more when he arrives.”

Kameilo realized one of their scouts had tracked Nukoo to her home. She shifted her eyes warily for any sign of anyone else coming, but didn't have long to check.

“Let's go further down with the others,” one Rikiti's voice said. “The Exarch is going to make contact within the hour.”

Dare she follow them in?

Kameilo waited a while and peaked through the sheet into the mouth of a dark cavern. She could see the crimson glow of a torch where the cavern turned left, and also where the cavern forked right.

Her wild senses resonated with a disturbing vibe, and again, she thought of going back. Regardless, she knew this was her best chance to see what these Rikiti were doing. Boldly, she passed through and entered into the Rikiti cavern.

The aromatic scent of dry stone flooded the cavern air. Torches lit the walls beyond as the cavern descended down several steps. Keeping to the shadows and out of the torch-light as best she could, she proceeded down the cavern, ensuring no one saw her. At least not yet.

The cavern branched up ahead—one passage leading into the dark, the other lit by torch-light. Scrutinizing the way, she took stealthily to the darkened path—when her eyes adjusted, she found herself in a circular atrium packed with wooden crates on one end, and stashed weapons on the other.

“Those are more weapons than for a single Rakiti tribe,” Kameilo noted to herself.

Getting a closer look at them, she found spears with extra long spear heads. The poles of each spear had a wider reach and were reinforced with leather and husks. Next to the spears she found slings—a preferred weapon among the rakiti. Instead of rope, these were fashioned with chain. Beside them, she found hundreds of arrows—each with a barbed head.

Kameilo's ears drooped. “So it was a rakiti who shot Nukoo,” she moaned in her thoughts. “Who is influencing these people to make such horrible things?”

Turning around, she checked the other half of the atrium. The wooden crates were filled with smooth stones which had a creamy gray color. At first she thought the stones were for the slings, but they seemed too big to fit in them. Were they for construction? Because if they were, they seemed yet too small.

A shadow passed by outside the atrium and several Rakiti entered therein. Kameilo dashed behind the crates, curled up in a corner and kept vigilant.

“Place them in here,” said one Rakiti to the others. “Gently, and don't chip the stones.”

Kameilo heard the clatter of several stones being deposited in the crates close to where she hid.

“The Exarch was right,” another said. “It's all working, just as he instructed. The change of wind—the migration of the birds being thrown asunder. This wisdom is strange and wonderful.”

“I can only imagine what it will be like when everything is finished. Imagine, we'll be face to face with them.”

“That enough dawdling,” the instructing Rakiti ordered quietly. “The Exarch wants to see us, in the back.”

They took their leave, leaving Kameilo unnoticed, curled tightly in a little ball and pondering their words to herself.

*****

(Been a while since I continued this story. Thought I'd return to it, since it's one of the main ones I'm working on).