Meanderlin » Lair » Oiseau

Oiseau

(#68127156)

Level 1 Imperial

Familiar

White Rot Deer

Energy: 43/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

31.32 m

Wingspan

17.06 m

Weight

7256.38 kg

Genetics

Umber
Jaguar

Fire
Constellation

Chocolate
Glimmer

Hatchday

Mar 20, 2021
(3 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Light
Uncommon

Level 1 Imperial

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Caviar
Roe

Offspring

none

Biography

O I S E A U

BARGHEST LORE AND LINEAGE PROJECT

GENERATION II
ROE | CAVIAR'S LINE

"Don't look, don't listen, don't follow. Run."

F rom the Red River to rumoured hound-like creatures wandering the land- Here, the territories of Arrowstone has seen its share of cryptic anomalies. Tales told by villagers to travellers have become one of its biggest exports. But now there's dark gossip floating about, of phantom beasts that wander Arrowstone's woods; wispy forms that dole out ill omens to the wretched that lay their eyes on them. First, the famine, but now the hunting grounds are no longer safe as well?

This is the tale of the barghest, Oiseau

Once a year, a dark well is rumoured to materialize in the gardens of Lord Caviar's forgotten manor. The villagers of Arrowstone stay inside, far away from the rim of moss-laden rock and the beckoning depths within. There are rumours about the strange well. Stories of a voice whispering from deep within the maw of stone. "Come closer", it says, "make a wish". Inevitably one of the townsfolk goes missing by morning, footsteps imprinted into the soft soil alongside the marks of some great beast that lead up to the well.

Yet tonight, the well is silent. The moon is but a waning crescent, yet it shines brightly down through the open maw of stone. In the darkness, the eyes of a great beast stare back at the light. Her form is curled tightly around a nest of golden coins and two luminescent eggs. They pulse softly, casting a pale glow onto the stone walls as the first dark cracks mar their surfaces.

The beast helps to free the newborns from their shells, nudging them up the stone walls and out into the moonlight. The well vanishes behind them and the hatchlings are left alone to wander off towards the looming manor. . . or deep into the woods.

The first child chooses to walk towards the abandoned stone walls of the manor where a beast with red fur finds her. He regards the child with an expression of deep sorrow before lifting her by the scruff and carrying her to a nest of shredded crimson silk. He sets off to search for her sibling. . . yet Caviar's second child is nowhere to be found.

The moonlight shines down upon both twins, offering its blessing to both the child draped in red silk and the one who wanders the darkness alone.

lore by awaicu

Morning arrives with a rare peace in the territory of Arrowstone. The manor stood as watchful sentinel and even the Red River seemed to flow gentler down than usual. Beyond the river, dawnlight filters through the branches of Arrowstone's woods, casting faint shadows on the loamy ground. A great, red stag emerges from the vegetation and saunters towards a nearby brook to draw a drink, but...

Something about the way it moved seemed...off, too investigative, too intelligent.

Suddenly, the stag looks up from its supposed drink and bolts. Moments later, a guardian wanders by, a hunter, or someone geared for hunting. Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched from a distance with steely intrigue. As the hunter examines imprints left at the brook, crunching leaves catch their attention. The hunter slowly stalks toward where the sound came from, bowstring taut and arrow ready to fire. As soon as they reach their destination, they leap sideways, ready to catch their prey unaware...only to be met with nothing but a faded pelt of an old stag. They gingerly picked at the crumbling hide, puzzled.

They would never know that their prey was already bounding deeper into the woods, rust-red fur rippling in the wind, claws digging into the soft dirt, heavy breathing revealing sharp ivory teeth.

Hemlock moves deeper into the forest, searching for anything out of the ordinary. For several weeks the hunters' numbers had thinned and he had a good idea why. He had heard of them, the rumours- they were enough to put fear into the townspeople's hearts though some still were foolhardy enough to venture into the woods. But that was not the only reason why he was scouring his domain today.

In truth, mixed feelings still burrowed in his heart about the matter of his half-siblings. The disappearances during the spring equinox had stopped but as a direct result of that...

"Dalliance in exchange for the townsfolk."

As his father puts it. He did not expect new siblings, much less with the circumstances for their existence. As much as he respects his father's resolve to protect Arrowstone, his willingness to agree to such a deal surprised even Hemlock. He picks up his pace, racing past the great oaks of Arrowstone. It's been only a few months since Hirondelle trotted into the dark halls of their home, but it's no coincidence that the rumours of phantom creatures started happening around the same time she was old enough to hunt. He had narrowed down where the reported appearances were at their densest in a bid to find their source.

Because he knows whom it would lead him to.

Almost as if answering his thoughts, a wispy shape of a deer springs into his line of sight. It stares at him with empty eyes for a brief moment before prancing deeper into the forest with Hemlock at its heel. Knowing full well he could tail it with his current pace; Hemlock could let his mind ponder about other things. Of course, it drifts once again to the subject of his family- it's not that the thought of his half-brother debased into feral monstrosity never crossed his mind; he only resolved to put an end to it. That would solve the problems plaguing the village and woods, and that was his duty. The trees close in, the woods darken, the apparition a faint flicker. He keeps moving deeper.

Deeper, deeper…

He stops- he is now at the heart of the woods; the morning light scarcely seeping through the oak trees, the deer nowhere to be found. He slowly padded towards where the trees were the least dense, his senses on edge in anticipation. If this was where his half-brother had been lurking-

The hair on his neck suddenly stands. A loud snarl rings out as he quickly moves out of the way of his assailant. Dried bits of leaves and debris sent flying as a hulking beast lands hard on the ground. Hemlock quickly switched into a defensive stance as his attacker turned to confront him. Auriferous eyes sized him up; the form embraced in fur dark as the foundation of the forest.

"Oiseau."

No response. Of course not. Why would there be? It was a name uttered to the wind, in hope of finding its bearer.

Evidently, it never did.

His opponent abruptly howls before lunging at him. Hemlock easily sidesteps, causing Oiseau to tumble several feet away from him. The young hound gets back on their paws with a vicious snarl, twigs and leaves tangled in their coat. For all the plans to subdue his half-brother, Hemlock hesitated to return the favour. They were currently incapable of reason; he was sure of it, but could they be brought back? Hemlock initially had no intention of leaving them alive, but if he gets Oiseau to stop fighting for a while...

Why? He wasn’t sure himself. Was it simply because they were family? No, it can’t be that simple. Such deluded notion. Hemlock had a duty to uphold and, kin or not, his duty demands him to stop Oiseau.

And yet…

The two beasts begin to circle each other. There was a standstill, the tension thickening, the anticipation of the other's next move. Neither dared to break the mounting silence that permeated every inch of the dark woods. But someone will, all they needed was an opportunity. Then, a long, baleful howl.

No, not a howl. A voice that didn't belong to Oiseau. A wail, a sound so unnatural, so chilling, the tenebrous forest seemed to dim even further, the air surrounding them rapidly densifying into fog. Hemlock suddenly sensed several presences rise around them as Oiseau retreated far into the shadows. From the corner of his eye, he watched as a ghoulish emaciated boar shambled out from the shadows as more aberrations followed behind. Ah. Hemlock is not stupid- even if he could dispatch them quickly, there were only so many foes he could face all at once. But retreating would mean defeat or worse. His best option was to confront Oiseau head-on and subdue them as fast as possible. There will be no more hesitation. And on that note, he charges.

Everything happened- the ghastly mass moved forward as one as Hemlock bolted to close the gap between him and his mark. A half-rotted stag futilely leaps at him only to be sent flying with a body slam as he sidesteps a boar’s incoming charge, its form dissipating into mist as it crashes back to the ground. The horde arrived seemingly from every direction but he held as he steadily cut a path through them. At the last few meters to his target, he lunges forward, tackling Oiseau and interrupting their preemptive strike. He violently pins the juvenile down as they snap at his forelimbs, their breath coalescing in the freezing air.

"Be still Oi-"

The wind is crushed out of him as a sledgehammer blow forces him off his opponent. As he struggled to get his bearings, he found himself face to face with the huge silhouette of a bear. It gives out a guttural roar as it swings at him; searing pain of claws connecting with his hide, the scent of sanguine now heavy in the air. He snarls as he struggles to escape the embrace it was now attempting to put him in. Oiseau used the opportunity to sprint towards the pair, teeth bared ready to strike. Hemlock just managed to shove away the ursine creature as he turned to see the half-brother's maw inches away from him.

Time seemed to slow as Hemlock scrambled backwards. His left hindleg catches on an exposed tree root causing his body to lurch sideways abruptly. In a flash, Oiseau's jaw snapped shut, full of fur instead of where Hemlock's neck would have been. Hemlock regains his balance as the whelp spits out wet fur from their mouth. But now he's cornered, backed against packed oaks, surrounded by Oiseau's thralls with nowhere to move.

Nowhere but forward. He will either triumph or die trying. The adrenaline coursed even faster through his veins. Blood was quickly painting his russet hide a brighter crimson.

He sees a faint bead of light float above the sea of chaos.

Immediately he shuts his eyes and turns away as a blinding flood of light suddenly ignites the battlefield. Sounds of the phantoms dissipating with an undignified *poof* as a startled yelp rings out. Hemlock eventually opens his eyes, still seeing stars, just in time to watch Oiseau bolt away to a darker part of the forest. He begins to pursue them...only for sharp pain to flare up from his side. The hound limps and falters. Hemlock steadies his heavy breathing and sighs, turning his attention towards the source of the flashbang. And from an unassuming bush... tumbles out a young sandy English Shepherd.

The dog shakes the debris off itself and trots towards Hemlock, who dips his head in gratitude. It points with its snout at the deep bleeding gash inflicted upon him. Despite the sinister visage of dark scleras and scars, the hound's expression was kind and concerned.

"I will live, Nylian."

Nylian gives Hemlock an aggravated huff before yanking him by the fur and motioning to follow them.

"Cease, I will return to the manor as you wish."

They nod, satisfied, before bounding towards the way home. There will be enough time to nurse his wounds. The atmosphere was warmer now that Oiseau retreated, but the woods still were fraught with windchills, a vestigial reminder. And as Hemlock begins to follow Nylian, he thought he heard the faint and distant cry of the whelp echoing across the dark stretch beyond. He stops to glance toward where the young barghest had retreated but there was nothing but a tense silence.

I shall find you again, half-brother. And when I do...

Deep in a forgotten corner of the Arrowstone woods, tattered crimson fabrics litter the soil, strewn among broken bows and rusting hunting knives. The area is not quiet, however, for there was a sickening harmony of chewing, ripping, crunching; bones and scales shattering and something trickling into the ground and seeping into undyed rags. The source of it all abruptly halts its meal. It lifts its stained head towards the canopy-stifled sky as if it had an epiphany. Perhaps a short burst of clarity? Or maybe a scent in the air? Whatever it was, it opened its mouth and out from it was a whisper, though inaudible to anyone but itself.

…I will bring you home, I swear.

Layout and artwork by awaicu

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Exalting Oiseau to the service of the Windsinger will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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