singillatim | once I knew I was not magnificent.

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once I knew I was not magnificent.

THE HUNTED, PART THREE

A hunting party in Lakeside with Young Bill for company ends up being cornered by Old Bear, a deadly game of cat and mouse within a caving system and a fight ensues.

WHEN: Late-April.
WHERE: Lakeside
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural creature; themes of hunting, being hunted/stalked by an animal; bear attacks; potential gore/maulings; potential injuries; claustrophobic sitations; themes of terror; themes of peril; eye injury; neck injuries; mentions of blood/gore; NPC death.

THE HUNT

Having lived in the Lakeside area for years and being native to Milton, Young Bill is a wealth of knowledge of the deeper parts of Lakeside. It’s provided invaluable when the wildlife has been scarce and usual hunting trips have ended up with poor results to return to Milton with. He’s accompanied Interlopers before on these hunting trips, using the knowledge of the land and his hunting and trapping knowledge to help Interlopers finds food in a world where everything is certainly less bountiful.

With the Old Bear’s hauntings and attacks still very much in full swing, he continues to join Interlopers on their hunting parties and when they travel through the region. An extra set of eyes, ears and hands isn’t a bad thing, and of course — when it comes to Old Bear, things are personal.

With the recent revival of quake activity into the month of April, things are definitely being a little more precarious. There’s been nothing too bad as of yet, but the ground has shaken and one’s footing can’t help but seem a little more precarious than usual. But there’s mouths to feed in Milton, and hunting trips can’t be put off by Old Bear or quakes.

A light fog hangs in the air, biting and clinging. It’s quiet. Until it isn’t anymore. The party will get that familiar feeling, that prickling at the back of their necks that makes them all pause, peering into the fog with apprehension. And there it is: the thuds of its paws in the snow approaching you, low grumblings of a great, angry beast seeking you out.

“We’ve got company.” Young Bill says quietly. He’s already swapping out his hunting rifle for his own spear. “Keep your spears ready. Looks like our ‘friend’ wants to say ‘hi’.”

With a furious roar, Old Bear storms into the group — scattering the party. Previous encounters have been particularly fearsome, but there’s a fresh kind of vitriol from the beast this time. Move quickly, or Old Bear’s claws will soon fight the softest fleshy parts and tear it open. Or worse yet, without a spear planted ready for a charge — there’s a risk of being sent flying and viciously mauled. Hopefully someone else can manage to fight Old Bear off before it’s too late.

Even Scout and Nova will quickly and desperately nip and swipe at the beast, trying to help the hunting party the best they can. And while Young Bill might not have the gifted abilities like the Interlopers, he fights with a careful fury to help defend the Interlopers best he can.

But despite the spears and numbers, Old Bear can still inflict serious damage. The party will fare better than most, at least — managing to fight the beast off.

And then there’s a rumbling to quake, and it’s not just the thundering noise of the fight.

The ground quakes hard, and there’s an odd sense to one’s feet. The whole fight is thrown off balance. Old Bear isn’t frightened off, still trying to take swipes where it can. Something gives way from beneath, and with a strange groan — the earth opens up and sends the party below.

The drop isn’t far, and the snow cushions the landing. Tumbling down into what appears to be an old caving system, there’s potential for further injuries in the fall. There’s little time for property recovery, the Old Bear is stalking straight down into the pit after them.

HIDE AND SEEK

The way out is climbable, but there’s no way of getting out without facing Old Bear head on. Scout and Nova buy precious time for the Interlopers and Young Bill to get themselves on their feet again, trying to keep Old Bear’s attention on them. But the bear won’t dwell long as it clambers down. Young Bill hears the snarls and barks from above and stares with wide-eyes as the two dogs trying to follow.

“No—! Stay—!” he roars, trying to help an Interloper up to their feet. “C’mon, we need to move now.”

Scout and Nova heed his warnings, but continue to whine and bark from above. Young Bill’s glancing around them. The air is cold and damp, not stale as one might think. It means one thing: there could be other openings to this place to allow air flow.

“We can’t fight it in this place, it’s too confined.” he yells, “Come on, we need to try and find a way to get around it.”

He leads the way. Sure enough the system isn’t as closed off as one think: in places above one’s head, there are small openings that allow light to filter through — along with a soft, strange glow along the rock walls. There’ll surely be another way out, or at least some way to circumvent the creature.

The system itself isn’t entirely huge, a few short tunnels all seem to loop back into a large, main atrium — a small half-frozen stream trickles through part of it. It’s big enough to try and lose Old Bear in. There’s ledges to climb up to get out of the way, and even spaces to crawl into. Large enough for Interlopers to squeeze themselves under to get out and away from Old Bear’s jaws and claws, but small enough that Old Bear can’t squeeze through.

And while large enough for people to move around the space with ease, Old Bear is much slower down here. But it doesn’t make it less determined as it chases after the Interlopers. Hopefully no one gets separated. Even with the light and air, one might get disorientated.

Old Bear can still catch you, but maybe if you’re quick and smart enough — you might just make it.

Or not, and find yourself in close quarters with the beast who will do anything to destroy you.

WHAT ONE MAN CAN DO

The Interlopers aren’t the only one who might find themselves trapped and attacked. Perhaps you see it, perhaps you might only hear it: the air fills with a man’s screams. A struggle. Young Bill finds Old Bear upon him too, and he will fight as furiously as he can to keep the beast back.

In the main atrium of the cave, under cold half-light, Young Bill fights against Old Bear in a deadly dance. Old Bear charges and Young Bill drops to a knee, spear ready — piercing the ancient bear’s softer underbelly and wrestles against its heavy weight. Old Bear still tries to swipe and bite at Young Bill — the man growing more and more exhausted as the fight goes on but he’s certainly holding his own.

Interlopers can try and help, giving Young Bill a little breathing space as he staggers back to catch his breath. He’s bleeding, his brow slick with sweat and gore, but he’s standing — eyes alive with adrenaline and determination. Even when he catches his breath, he’ll throw himself back into the fight with Interlopers. He doesn’t have the strength or the stamina like the Interlopers might do, but he’s a formidable force in his own way.

But a fight cannot go on forever.

“Get out of here!” he yells to the Interlopers. “I got it, just get out of here. Circle back and head out the way we got in here!”

The words barely leave his mouth and Old Bear charges for him, knocking him off his feet. He yells for Interlopers to go, Old Bear’s jaws closing down the man’s shoulder and neck. Young Bill roars, his spear twisting and piercing Old Bear’s eye.

The sound is deafening — shrieks and moans as Old Bear and it tries to dislodge the spear from it, crashing and staggering around. Young Bill rolls to get on his feet, heavily injured, one last burst of energy as he moves to drive the spear deeper. With his injuries, he manages to grab the spear, and screams as he pushes with all his might—

but Old Bear shakes him and the spear loose — sending him flying. He crashes against the stone, blood pools around him.

Young Bill struggles to get up again, he pulls himself onto his hands and knees with ragged, shallow breaths. There’s a look on his face, a strange one.

It’s the look of a man who’s going to die.

But there’s something else, too. Something almost indescribable. Understanding. Old Bear, half-blind and furious, comes to a strange calm.

Young Bill was a young boy once. He lived with his parents in Milton and grew up on stories of how his great-grandfather hunted down a ferocious bear who grew angry at the settlers upon the land. How he chased the great beast through the woods and snow, out onto the muskeg — never to be seen again.

A young boy who grew up listening to his father and mother arguing on long summer days. How his father would disappear for weeks at a time, chasing ghosts he was so sure would catch him when he wasn’t aware. A young boy who returned home as a young man to find his father, reclusive and paranoid of those ghosts.

His father had been right. Magic was real. The Old Bear was real. His father said it would come for him, and so it did. Young Bill looks to the Interlopers around him, wherever they may be — perhaps watching from the way to get out of this place.

They were all interlopers, of a sort, in this place.

“Alright.” Young Bill utters.

He twists the spear in his hands and places it gently but decisively upon the stone. With laboured breaths, he sits back, hands resting on his knees and lifts his head to the Old Bear’s drooling maw. Young Bill stares the beast in the eyes, sweat dripping from his face and expression wan. Blood continues to blossom outwards from his injuries, clawed and bitten — staining the fabric of his clothing dark red.

Surrender.

“You win.” he whispers. “It’s done. It ends with me.”

Young Bill bows his head. Old Bear stares, motionless. There are only sounds of breath, man and beast. Even wounded, the creature doesn’t look any less ferocious and or weak. It stares at a dying man, recognising something there. Old Bear had always watched them all with a keen intelligence that seemed almost inexplicable.

There’s a strange shifting in the air. A wind from nowhere blows and flecks of the beast begin to crack and peel away like a soft drifting of snow up into a sweeping breeze. By the time Young Bill lifts his head again, Old Bear has gently filtered away, the flecks dissolving into a dance of dust and then to nothing.

Young Bill stares into the empty space for a long moment before his body slumps to one side with an exhale that sounds like relief, collapsing in a heap upon the cave floor.

By the time anyone reaches him, he is gone.

In the spot where Old Bear stood are five, singular bear claws. They shimmer with a strange mother-of-pearl sheen: The Old Bear's Claw.

FAQs

GENERAL FAQS

1. Interlopers with Old Bear's Blessing will fare much better compared to other Interlopers and will be less critical injured compared to other party members. Teaming up with fellow Interlopers with Old Bear's Blessing will prove a particularly ferocious fight that will eventually have Old Bear giving up on you — but may turn on attacking someone else instead.

2. This mini-event marks the end of Old Bear, along with the end of Young Bill. Old Bear will not be seen again following this event.

3. Young Bill cannot be saved or brought back to life.

4. There will be a final letter from Young Bill in due course detailing his last requests and a final message to the Interlopers. Scout and Nova will now become ownerless.

OLD BEAR'S CLAW

Congratulations on surviving the final encounter with the Old Bear! You have been gifted with a unique item: The Old Bear's Claw!

1. The Old Bear's claw grants the ability Armoured, a form of protection. Old Bear was known for its particularly thick hide which couldn't be penetrated by arrows or bullets in its story. With its Claw, while not completely immune, the Interloper will find themselves less vulnerable to projectile weapons and puncture wounds, along with any slashing injuries. What might be a fatal wound sinking deep into the body will be only shallow thanks to the Claw. In addition to this, any wounds sustained will less likely to bleed, meaning they will survive wounds which can potentially cause a huge amount of blood loss and keep standing for longer until they can find medical assistance.

2. The Old Bear's Claw must be kept on the Interloper's person. They may choose to fashion it into a pendant or bracelet, or simply keep it in their pocket for it to work.

3. The Old Bear's Claw can be given to anyone and they will receive that ability as long as they keep it on their person.

4. The Old Bear's Claw can be lost or destroyed.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Levi has had no such dreams, but he's not surprised by it. Had Young Bill enjoyed Milton, he would have spent more time there. This might pose its own challenges -- although the ground should be easier to dig by now -- but it's the least they can do.

"Yeah," he rasps, staring at the spot where they last saw the bear. In some way, it makes sense, with how it kept disappearing and sneaking up on them. But this is -- so much more in their faces. "Like it was a ghost made flesh for a while."

“It was a spirit of this land, I think.” That's what the story at the camp office had sounded like. “Once Bill faced it directly, there was only one way that a story like this could end. I hope they are both at peace.”

"Maybe." He's never believed in spirits before coming to this place, but he might just end up doing so before he ever gets the chance to leave.

Was it really the only way? He still thinks they could have helped the man, angry at the situation, at Bill for taking up this sacrifice, at himself for getting dragged away like a sack of potatoes when maybe he could have done something to protect the man's life. But there's no use thinking about all that now; there's no changing what happened. Best they can do is try to learn the lesson and move forward from there.

No regrets, he repeats to himself, biting the inside of his cheek.

"I hope so, too," he mutters. "He seemed like a decent guy." A bit pigheaded at times, maybe, but as far as Levi knows, he's helped them more than he's gotten them in trouble.

“So you say.” There are things to admire about Bill: his passion for a cause as well as for his land, the care he had shown to Scout and her children, the courage at the end to face up to the weight of his family’s history; but Randvi is still angry at him for the ways in which he had harmed their community by attempting to use interlopers to fight his battles, and for bringing bears to their door and not explaining what it was about until it was undeniable.

“He had a great conflict in him, I think. And seeing his own world come to this must have been difficult.”

Levi doesn't think his battles would have stayed his own for much longer even if he hadn't brought the Interlopers into it, so he feels no such resentment. The bear thing he's not entirely sure he quite understands. Has it truly only been after Bill from the start? Why go after the others, if that were the case?

He's not sure if knowing what he does now would have helped him to not get mauled in any way, either.

"...Yeah." He can imagine it well enough, his own world on the brink of ruin that often felt helpless, but this... somehow, this place might have just been worse.

“He would probably hate that we’re discussing him.” Despite the sombre moment, the thought makes Randvi smile a little. “He didn't have much time for sentimentality.”

"Or need, I suppose," Levi considers. "But he too was sentimental about some things."

His dogs and his father come to mind, along with the cabin he refused to leave to the point he made it everyone's problem. A lunatic, some would say, but there's a certain charm to it.

"...Should we... make a stretcher or something?" It would probably make the body easier to carry.

“A sledge might be a bit easier.” None of them are in great condition right now, and it isn't as if Bill’s condition will worsen if he's jostled a bit.

"Right." He doesn't really know much about sledges, but after doublechecking what kinds of materials he should be picking up for it, he'll excuse himself to scavenge around for anything he can use. He doesn't mind continuing the conversation while at it, though he's not sure if there's much more to say.

Still, Randvi's words provide some sense of relief for him. If this was truly one of those things he didn't understand, magical things meant to go a certain way, then perhaps it truly was not possible to save him.

Then perhaps it's not yet another failure of his.

It's a relief to be working on this with someone like Levi. He's focused and efficient, and doesn't expect her to manage his emotions for him. She can just work alongside him in silence as she tries to process her own complicated feelings about what has happened here.

A sledge is built, or some approximation of it, and Bill's body is taken home. The Interlopers find his letter, and honor his wishes. It perhaps takes some days, to let the word spread and let everyone who wishes to attend the burial do so, but in the end through all their efforts the man's last request is fulfilled.

And that leaves them -- slowly departing, each returning to what they've made of their lives. Levi lingers, however, part of him still melancholic about everything that went down that day, the fact that people keep dying around him with him unable to do anything about it. When he sees a well-familiar face doing the same, he naturally ends up gravitating toward her, though he doesn't say anything at first.

The silence stretches for a bit, then he clears his throat, looking at the ground.

"It's done," he says, perhaps to himself, but loud enough to hear.

“Yes,” Randvi agrees wearily. “The story has reached its conclusion. It's difficult to be pleased, with so much death.”

The Old Bear had killed four in town, including one of her young Forest Talker charges, and injured many, including Shaw and Levi. Other bears had killed Francis and Ragnar.

“Though now with luck we will be free from death for a time. How are your injuries?”

After her own attack she’d been in nearly constant pain for months.

"...mm." Being pleased hadn't even crossed his mind. It's not the first funeral he's at that is also, in a way, a celebration, but he hadn't really connected to that part then and he doesn't now. There's maybe a small sense of relief, having done their duty, making the territories a safer place, honoring someone's last wishes. That's about it.

Too much death. All good people, too, as far as he knows.

"I don't know if we're that lucky," he mutters gravely, and sighs a little. "I'm well enough. Got a bit jostled, but none of the stitches reopened."

The gashes are healed solid by now, though it still feels tender where it had been particularly deep, and his ribs appear to persist in the correct positions. There's still aches and itching, but he doesn't consider it to be of importance.

“I am pleased to hear that. Svetlana’s skill cannot be overstated.” An infection here could have killed him.

“Have you noticed the strange properties of the claws the bear left behind?” She had strung hers on a cord as a trophy, but it has other effects. “I seem to have tougher skin while wearing it.”

"It really cannot." He lifts a hand in what's becoming a reflex now, running fingers over the scar marring his cheek. It feels both alien and like it was always supposed to be there. "I would probably be short an eye without her. That or dead."

He's still somewhat surprised he'd managed to get medical attention fast enough not to bleed out to death, too. It's a bit blurry and he's missing chunks of what happened after, but it looked pretty bad, he thinks. He's ought to find the guys and thank them too.

He frowns slightly, reaching into his inner pocket. He'd kept one of the claws too, though less as a trophy and more as a memento -- something he used to do back home with the regiment patches from fallen soldiers' uniforms when he had the chance. Something to remind him that Young Bill had been alive and fought for them, and that he was among the ones who witnessed his demise, the ultimate proof of someone's existence. He deserves to be remembered.

"I had not noticed," he admits, running a thumb over the sturdy material. Though if he really thinks about it, he may have been feeling a little less fragile lately, injuries nonwithstanding. A bit more like at home. "How do you mean?"

"Sometimes when I am anxious, I carve small figures from wood to occupy my hands and calm my mind." He can likely guess why she might have been doing this lately. "Yesterday evening, my knife slipped and sliced across the pad of my thumb. The wound was very shallow and did not bleed at all."

Perhaps now she can shrug off injuries as that bear had before the final battle.

He has some ideas.

"...Could've been luck," he suggests, but the way she says it, the way she seems certain implies that perhaps it was not a regular shallow cut. Perhaps it was supposed to be much worse if she used enough force on it. "Have you sharpened the knife recently?"

“I always sharpen it before I work, or the quality of the figure suffers.” She had been deeply concerned about the injury before realizing it didn't exist.

"...Huh." That does sound like the blade ought to have cut deeper. "Have you tested this since it happened?"

“No, I -” She had been too afraid that she’d imagined it. “Do you believe me? I can make a second attempt.”

"Of course I believe you," he says like it's a matter-of-fact, as if the alternative is simply unthinkable. "But it's good to be sure. And if it doesn't work, I can fix you up."

Is he planning to use his potentially costly gift just to do a silly little experiment? You'd bet. Hange would be proud of him.

Perhaps this is a strange thing to be doing at a funeral, but somehow Randvi doesn't think that Bill would mind.

She draws her whittling knife from a leather bag on her belt, holds it up to Levi for inspection, then drags the blade across her palm.

It leaves a light mark, barely a split in the skin, but no blood at all.

It's not like Bill wasn't a pretty strange guy himself. It's probably fine.

Levi checks the knife, watches Randvi slice her palm, then leans in to inspect that too. It's not even something he feels the need to heal for her at this point.

"And you think this is because of the bear's claw?" he doublechecks, reaching into his boot to retrieve his own knife. There's one way to be certain. Unless of course it's some new ability they haven't discovered yet similar to the likes of her fire powers and his healing. "You haven't had another one of those dreams or anything?"

“The last dream I had was the one about the bear, and I have injured myself since then.” Not severely, but enough to know that at that time she could not do this.

“I have always felt different when I wear the claw, but I had assumed that it was the figurative weight of it.” They had all been through a lot.

"I see."

He exhales slowly and peels a glove back, pressing the tip of his knife to his palm. Nothing happens, and Randvi can see how he frowns with some confusion and puts gradually more force into it. When it finally looks like it started sinking in he stops and pulls the knife away, but it seems he still hadn't drawn blood; there's a slight imprint from the blade, but that's it.

He looks at it, then at Randvi. "...I'll be damned." It seems she's right, though that probably raises more questions that it answers. "What about when you take it off?"

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timeskip!

Re: timeskip!

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Cw attempted self harm

just casually at a funeral nbd

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