July 26, 2018
Word count: 3608
Prompt #26: Describe the time when a Beastclan tribe is spotted on your clan’s territory.
This story introduces created characters from the Talonok Beastclan. The Skyline dragons are unnamed in the story, but they are Providence, Pyrrhia, and Embyr the Sunspot Clouddancer.
This is by far the longest piece I've written for this challenge, and will have at least one more sequel. This is the backstory to an ongoing alliance between the Skyline Clan and their Beastclan allies: The North Cliffside Talonok Chapter.
The North Cliffside Talonok Chapter were a proud bunch. They considered themselves to be fine warriors, hunters, and foragers, eking out a comfortable life on the slopes of the cliffside territories, which the dragons called the Zephyr Steppes. But when yet another hunting party failed to return from their trip, Kar’aak knew something had to be done, and fast.
“It’s the third time in as many days,” he pointed out, to anyone who would stop long enough to listen, “at the same time, the dragons speak of harsher measures against our kind. It’s clear what happened to them.”
Most talonok chose to remain optimistic.
‘They got lost,’ they’d say.
‘Perhaps they’re tracking bigger game.’
‘You think too poorly of our finest prey-runners.’
But Kar’aak knew he was right, and though he was a lowly scribe, he was determined to take matters into his own wings.
As part of his job (compiling event logs from the raptoriks’ patrols), he had access to maps of all their regular routes. He sketched out his own copy on a piece of parchment, stashed it in his robe, and set off into the wilds of the territories.
Kar’aak decided to follow the shortest hunters’ route: Along the cliffs, up to the steppes, a short foray into the edge of a bamboo forest, then back to camp. He flew alongside the sheer rock walls, checking for the usual patrol markers, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He rose with the afternoon thermals to the Zephyr Steppes, steering clear of the budding clans that set up their lairs across the mesas.
Could they have run into some dragons? he wondered. But he found more patrol markers, little strips of ribbon inconspicuously tied around trees or bamboo stalks, in knots that indicated nothing out of the ordinary. Not here, at least.
That left one place to search: The bamboo forest.
Kar’aak wasn’t a big fan of bamboo. Their leaves and stalks blocked out the sun even in brightest day, and they grew so close together that he was always afraid he’d get stuck between two of them. But walking was out of the question; too dangerous.
He kept flying, albeit slower. The markers continued as usual, weaving through the widest gaps between the stalks.
But then, they just...stopped.
Kar’aak swung out his talons to perch just below the last marker, visually sweeping the area for the next one. None of the other bamboo stalks seemed to be marked. It was as if they’d ended their patrol right where he was standing.
He was about to take off again when he saw it: The next ribbon, seemingly floating in the air.
What?
Kar’aak watched it for a few seconds. It seemed to bob with the wind, though it didn’t move too much. He tilted his head, and saw it at once.
The ribbon wasn’t floating at all. It had been tied to a net, its mesh so thin that it was almost invisible under the light.
By shielding his eyes with one wing, Kar’aak could see that the hidden netting had been strung up between multiple stalks, forming an unbroken line as far as he could see. Between each net, he caught glimpses of feathers, arrows, and even torn strips of talonok cloth.
He could see the pattern tied into the patrol marker now. It meant
‘Danger!’.
There were half a dozen of them tied across the length of the netting.
He had to warn the Chapter, fast.
“They’re gone!” Kar’aak shrieked. “All of them!”
A few talonok snapped their heads up as the corven half-flapped, half-crashed back into their cliffside camp.
“What?”
“Who’s gone?”
“Be still, youngling! Catch your breath. Whatever news you bear can wait.”
Kar’aak staggered to his feet and coughed in a breath, then froze. “Wait. Did the hunters just leave by the forest route?”
“Yes, a few minutes ago. Why—”
“They’re in danger!” he shrieked. “Please, send someone and tell them to turn back!”
A pair of peregrine raptorik nodded to each other. The larger of the two took flight and zipped off in the direction of the patrol, while the other came to lay her talon on Kar’aak’s shoulder. “Skritch is the fastest bird I know. He’ll get there in time, don’t you worry. Now, what’s all this about?”
The corven spoke through gasping breaths. “Saw...nets in the bamboo forest...the patrol markers said danger...dragons kidnapping our hunters!”
Some of the listeners gasped.
“But why?”
“What do the dragons want with us?”
“So my sister’s been taken?”
“What’s going to happen to them?”
“Questions can come later,” the peregrine raised her voice, “for now, let’s wait until Skritch gets back. Then we can figure out what’s going on.”
There was plenty of mumbling all around, but the crowd eventually dispersed.
“We’ll have to hunt on the cliffsides now.”
“Maybe the other chapters can send reinforcements.”
“Will we have to abandon this outpost?”
Kar’aak sat down and fretted. The raptorik brought him some water to drink.
“What if he doesn’t get there in time?”
“He will.”
“But if he doesn’t— wait! I forgot to warn him about the nets!”
“By Talona! I’ll go after him.”
“Wait. I’ll come with you.”
The peregrine sized him up. “To be honest, corven, I’m not sure if you can keep up...”
“I know one section we can cut across. It’ll halve our travel time, easy.”
“Fine. Let’s go, then.”
Skritch was a raptorik of action, not words. If someone told him to do something, he did it, no need to think further. That being said, he was having a pretty hard time convincing the hunting patrol to do the same.
“You have to return to camp,” he repeated for the fifth time. “Kar’aak says it’s not safe.”
The team of five hunters hovering at the edge of the bamboo forest weren’t impressed.
“Kar’aak? The scroll-scratcher?”
“What’s the trouble?”
Hmm, good question. The young corven hadn’t given any actual details when he crash-landed into camp screeching about ‘all of them’ being ‘gone’, but with that language, it had to be urgent, right?
“I don’t know. But Kar’aak will explain when we get back. Come on, follow me.”
“Why should we listen to you?” some belligerent youngster asked. “For all we know, you could be lying about the whole thing.”
A few other hunters murmured their agreement.
“What? No! Why would I ever want to lie about something like this?”
“Then why can’t you give us a reason?”
“I— uh...”
Words were hard.
“That’s what I thought. Come on, let’s keep going.”
The patrol flew on ahead. Skritch caught up to them in half the wingbeats, and flew in front of and alongside them.
“Wait, if you would just listen to— ack!”
He crashed into some sort of invisible barrier. Thin cords of some sort wrapped around his wings, and the more he flapped, the more tangled up he got.
The hunters pulled up short, their eyes wide.
“What is that?”
“What’s wrong with him?”
One of the older raptorik inched closer, reaching out to feel the cords with his talons. “It’s a bird net. A strong one!”
“Look!” Another hunter pointed out the troubling markers strung up along its length. “The other patrols were here!”
“That’s what happened to them!”
“That’s what would’ve happened to
us!”
“Skritch? Hold still. I’m going to try to cut the net.”
“No!” the peregrine said, as one of the corven approached with his hunting spear. “Fly back to camp, quickly!”
“But you’re—”
“I don’t know what Kar’aak was so afraid of. But the camp needs that food you’re carrying. We can’t afford all of you getting caught, too.”
“He’s right,” the youngster said, not so belligerent any more. “We’ve lost three patrols to this thing. If we don’t get back, the Chapter’ll starve.”
The patrol muttered amongst themselves. When the point raptor turned to Skritch, his golden eyes were sorrowful. “You’re right. Talona be with you, peregrine. We shouldn’t have been so stubborn earlier.”
With that, the talonok turned and flew back to camp, bearing their precious kills with them.
“So you say the nets were strung up in the bamboo forest?”
“Yes.”
“Exactly along the stretch that our patrols would take?”
“Correct.”
“So that means the dragons have been watching us. They knew where to set up. This is a targeted attack.”
“So all we have to do is change our patrol routes.”
“What if they just move the nets again...”
“Hmm, what if we swapped routes every other day— hey, wait! Is that the patrol?”
Kar’aak pointed to a formation flying towards them from the direction of the forest. He waved a silk-sleeved wing at them.
“Hey! Over here!”
The point raptor broke off and swooped down to meet them. “Kar’aak,” he greeted. “And Ski’cha. So you’re the one who sent Skritch after us? We’re in your debt.”
“Yes, that’s right. So you figured out about the nets already?”
“Yes. We’ll be changing our route this very evening.”
Ski’cha was craning her head around to inspect the patrol. “There’s five of you. Where’s Skritch?”
The hunterbird squirmed in mid-air, which looked a little like a shiver wracking his wings. “Well, uh...”
“He got caught,” a youngster blurted out.
“What! You left
my brother in that net?! Why, you brown-beaked...”
Kar’aak placed himself between the peregrine and the patrol. “Forget it! It’s not their fault. Makoti, bring that food back to camp. The two of us will go get Skritch.”
The point raptor bowed his head. “Wind buoy you, friends.” He whistled to his patrol, and they continued on their path back to the Chapter.
Ski’cha shot off in a thundering of wingbeats, and Kar’aak followed her, trying not to think of all the things that could go wrong.
Skritch didn’t know what this blasted net was made of, but it would probably make excellent talonok clothing. He’d been sawing away at it with his knife for minutes, and at the rate he was going, the blade might actually break before he made any significant progress.
“How’s today’s pickings?”
The raptorik froze. That sounded like Draconic, and it was coming from far below him.
“Terrible. Only one today.”
“Can’t be. Search along the perimeter.”
More rustling of bamboo stalks. By tilting his head, Skritch could see a few dragons, mostly the big scary armoured types, stalking around through the forest far below.
“’Fraid so. Just one bird.”
“They’re on to us, boss.”
“We all knew this day would come. Come on, let’s just get this one down.”
Skritch felt a force tugging down on the net. He screeched a warcry, flapping his wings as much as the tangled cords would let him, and generally made a nuisance of himself as they pulled him in.
Some stalks rustled, then a new voice cut through the commotion.
“Hey, what— HEY! What are you doing?”
Strangely, the net stopped at the sound of this new voice, followed by growls of surprise. Skritch twisted his head around yet again, and saw two of the thinner, feathery type dragons leaping out of the undergrowth.
“What’s going on here? Why are you in Skyline territory?”
“Wait, ma’am, we can explain—”
“Our land is clearly marked. You couldn’t walk six paces without tripping over a trailblazer. And as far as we can see, none of you are Skyline Clan.”
“Please, just let—”
A sunspot clouddancer appeared out of nowhere, snarling at the larger dragons. Strangely, the way it was standing made it almost look like it was protecting one of the feathery dragons. But that would be ridiculous. Right?
“Get out. Now.”
“At least let us take our—”
“Those nets are Skyline property now. Get. Out.”
Muttering and snarling amongst themselves, the larger dragons released their hold on the net and flew out of the forest.
“Trappers,” the female feathery dragon spat.
“No morals to speak of.”
Skritch was under the impression that all dragons had no morals to speak of. Maybe they just had different degrees of immorality?
The clouddancer had trotted over and was ripping into the net with his beak. The feathery dragon clicked her tongue, and to Skritch’s utter surprise, he backed off. What happened to the proud predator he’d always read about? Was this what the dragons were going to do to
him?
“Here,” the female dragon said, passing a talonful of net to her male partner,
“and be careful. These are yuccaweave cords.”
The other dragon nodded, and between the two of them, they began to lift and untangle the expanse of netting.
Skritch watched them both with a wary eye, keeping one talon wrapped tightly around his weapon. If only he had one of those fancy spears that the warriors always carried. Somehow, a pocketknife wasn’t as intimidating when your target was ten times your size.
The clouddancer came over and sat down beside Skritch’s head. Though his accent was off, he spoke decent talonok. “Put away your weapon, raptor. They’re only trying to help you.”
“Dragons? Help? Proud brother, I don’t know how they’ve brainwashed you, but—”
“No brainwashing at all. I am this Skydancer’s loyal familiar. Trust me: They don’t wish to harm you.”
“They’re dragons. They’ve been slaughtering our fellow beastkin since the dawn of the Fourth Age.”
“Not these dragons. The Skyline Clan is peaceful. I know: I didn’t believe it either at first. But with time, I realised that not all dragons are as brutal as we’ve been taught.”
Skritch felt the net slacken. The clouddancer stood, and with graceful picks of his claws, began to untangle the raptorik’s wings from of the cords. “Disbelieve me if you wish. But know this: If you lay a claw on my mistress, I will fight you to defend her.”
“Effective brainwashing,” Skritch muttered, and just then, he felt the weight of the net lift as the dragons tossed it away.
“You’re free to go, talonok. My mistress will not stop you.”
“Tell him they should change routes,” the male dragon said to the clouddancer.
“Until we nab those trappers.”
“Already done,” Skritch told them, his knife still tightly clenched in one talon. He kept his eyes on the two dragons as he took flight, but then, with great difficulty, he acknowledged them with a nod. “Thank you.”
The dragons nodded back. They almost looked earnest about it. But Skritch wouldn’t be fooled.
All dragons were evil. These ones were just...down with the flu, probably. No need to think further than that.
“Careful,” Kar’aak said. “Here’s where I saw the nets.”
Ski’cha tilted her wings to slow herself, hovering at the very edge of the bamboo forest. She couldn’t really see any nets, but then again, it wouldn’t be much of a trap if so.
“Alright. Let’s do a perch-and-dash. My brother won’t be hard to find. He’s always squawking his head off, you could hear him a crow’s flight away.”
The two of them landed on their own separate stalks of bamboo, checking the area around them before half-leaping, half-gliding to the next.
Then Kar’aak whistled two sharp notes: Talonok code for
‘look down’.
Ski’cha did so. Far below them, a trio of dragons stumbled through the undergrowth, cursing and spitting amongst themselves. Could they be the dragons who’d set up the nets?
She clacked her beak back at him.
‘I’ll check,’ it meant.
She shimmied down the bamboo stalk, clinging almost sideways, like a woodpecker. She was terrible at Draconic, worse than even her dolt of a brother, and she cursed herself for not letting Kar’aak (the actual scholar) do the eavesdropping.
“Next time...before...”
“Sky clan...know they were here?”
“Rest of talonok...price...”
With claws and beak in tandem, she clambered her way back up to the corven. “Sounds like the culprits. But they didn’t have Skritch with them.”
“Oh no,” Kar’aak fretted, “what if they’ve killed him? Or eaten him? Or broken his wings and left him to die all alo—”
“Hey,” said a familiar voice, “don’t jinx it.”
Ski’cha took flight so suddenly that her bamboo stalk rattled from the impact. She tackled Skritch mid-air, and the siblings wing-embraced for a second before gravity forced them to retreat to perches one more.
“You’re alright! What happened? Did those dragons hurt you? Just give me the word, I’ll gouge their eyes out myself...”
“Well...” Her brother turned back to look into the forest. “Kind of the opposite, actually.”
“Wait. Just to clear things up for the records. Some dragons were about to kidnap you, but then some other dragons freed you?”
The setting sun far overhead did an adequate job of lighting the camp clearing, where the talonok of the North Cliffside Chapter were having their first full meal in three days. Kar’aak and the peregrine siblings sat together around a small bonfire, sharing a fillet of bamboo rat while the former wrote his incident report of the day’s happenings.
“Yes. Oh! And there was this clouddancer calling himself a ‘familiar’. If it matters, the net dragons were the big ones. Lots of armour, big wings.”
“You mean Guardians? Ridgebacks?”
“Yeah. Probably. And the dragons who freed me were the feathery ones.”
Ski’cha rolled her eyes. “Skydancers.”
“Yeah, whatever. And get this: The male said they were going to ‘nab the trappers’.”
Kar’aak tilted his head to one side. “Are you sure you heard that right? The Skydancer dragons are going to stop the trapper dragons?”
“I think so...”
“But that would mean the Skydancers...are on our side?”
“I know. Didn’t make sense to me, either. But that’s what I remember.”
“That’s...interesting.”
Ski’cha yawned widely. “I’m too tired for this level of moral complexity,” she declared. “Come on, brother. Time to turn in for the night.”
“You two go on ahead. I’ve got to make my report to the top talon.”
Skritch twittered a farewell to Kar’aak, before following his sibling up to the roost.
The corven wrapped up the rest of his report, tossed some ashes onto the fire to smother it, then set off to meet the Chapter head.
Tikitak’s office was a simple mud hut stuck to the sheer cliff-face, with open windows that overlooked the entire camp. He’d been leader of the Chapter for as long as anyone could remember, by virtue of his decisive planning, combat prowess, and crystal-clear foresight.
The old greenwing looked up as Kar’aak placed his scroll at his desk. “Evening’s tidings, Kar’aak. Makoti told me how you and the peregrine saved today’s hunting patrol. On behalf of the entire Chapter, we thank you for your actions.”
“Just looking out for my fellow beastkin,” Kar’aak replied. “Do you have a moment to talk?”
“Of course.”
“Skritch told me that the Skydancers in the bamboo forest freed him. They also said they were going after the dragons that took our hunters. I think it might be...beneficial— I mean, would it be possible for us to maybe form an alliance?”
Tikitak laughed, in a deep, harsh squawk. “Dragons, on our side? Have you been reading too many storyscrolls?”
“Well...”
The raptorik leader picked up the incident scroll and unrolled it. “Today was most fortuitous, and I don’t deny your involvement in that. But we
do not, have not, will not associate with dragons, no matter what the reason.”
Tikitak skimmed the report, but as he reached the midway point, he frowned. “Kar’aak, do you know what a familiar is?”
“The clouddancer was one. Skritch said he was loyal to the Skydancer.”
“Trained loyalty,” Tikitak muttered. “D’you know how they do it? They beat it into you. They use punishment and intimidation to turn proud creatures like that clouddancer into simpering pets.”
“Skritch said the clouddancer looked happy. Obedient to the dragon, but still happy. I don’t think—”
“Oh, but that’s not all. They make you fight their battles for them. Against overwhelming odds, you’re expected to die for them. When you’re limping away from a wartoad with a broken wing, only to have them throw you right back into the fray, your perception of dragons tends to shift.”
“But surely some of them could be decent!”
Tikitak shrugged his parda-skin robe off his shoulders. His breast and upper back were lacerated with scars, bare patches where the feathers would never grow back, strange runic burns snaking black lines across his skin.
Dragon claw marks. Dragon magic.
“I’m sorry,” Kar’aak murmured.
“So now you know. This is what dragons do to our kind. I won’t hear any more talk of an ‘alliance’ with these monsters. Dismissed.”
Kar’aak bowed his head, cawed a goodnight to the greenwing, and flew off to roost with his fellow corven.
“Good evening,” his neighbour, a greybeak ritualist, said as he settled down beside her. “I heard about you rescuing the hunting patrol. This Chapter needs more brave talonok like you.”
“Thank you. But there’s still the matter of the other three patrols that went missing.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Talona will guide their path home.”
“Maybe.”
The greybeak tucked her beak into her wing and went to sleep. But Kar’aak sat wide awake in his nest bed, the image of the net and its fluttering patrol markers burned into his mind.
15 good talonok were still missing. And though they were clearly on everyones’ minds, the entire Chapter was collectively pretending nothing was wrong. To them, it was just another peril of living so close to dragons. Burying their heads in the sand was easier than trying to do something about it.
But Kar’aak knew he was right, and though he was a lowly scribe, he was determined to take matters into his own wings.
Bonus: Each of the talonok main characters are based on existing talonok familiars. Kar'aak is a tengu, the peregrine siblings are raptorik ringmasters, and Tikitak is a greenwing razorclaw.
