RTPro-Serenity and Devestation

There.  She saw it.  A beautiful stag that looked like it could provide enough food to last the tribe a couple of weeks.  If they dried some of the meat, it would last longer.  The pelt could be made into shoes or clothes for many tribesmen.  The antlers would be good for trade, especially with the Summerset Tribe.

"Do you see it, Sylvie?"

"Shhhh!" she hissed at the man next to her.  His name was Naoru and had been her best friend since childhood.  He had golden blonde hair and eyes as blue as the stream before them.

"But Sylvie!  It's beautiful!" Naoru whispered excitedly.  A couple of the other elves began whispering too.

"Everyone be quiet!" Sylvana whispered harshly.  "We do not want to lose this!"

Immediately the other elves quieted.  The forest was quiet as well, as if in anticipation.  There was a slight breeze, but the elves were downwind of the stag.

Sylvana pointed the directions they should split up.  The elves followed her silent commands.

She watched the stag.  It was in a sunlit clearing, near a stream.  She could smell the forest around her and the water from the stream.  Everything was fresh and alive.

Sylvana gave the signal for the archers to let loose a volley.

Twang

Two of the arrows hit the stag, while another two ended up in a nearby tree.  The stag went down heavily.

Sylvana and the elves slowly approached the stags, bows armed and swords raised in case it was still alive.  But the stag was quite dead, having been shot through the eye by one of the arrows.

"Thank you, Qual'Thok, for this precious gift," Sylvana whispered her prayer reverently.  Naoru overheard her and nodded his agreement, silently offering his own.

One by one, the ten elves gathered around the stag, a small hunting party.  Sylvana had volunteered to lead them, despite her mother's misgivings.  Sylvana felt that as Chieftain's Daughter, she had to lead by example.  She did not like letting others do what she very well could.  This mentality often lead to arguments with her mother.
"Alright boys, let's get to work," she ordered.  The others began the process of dressing out the stag and packing it away for transport.

When nightfall came, they set up camp, continuing to work until well after the fourth moon had risen.

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It took them three days to return to the vicinity of the village.  They were excited to return and show off their kill, and to see their families.

They came out of the woods on a bluff overlooking Hawk's Peak Canyon.  The village was a ways off and they could see the cooking fire's smoke rising above the trees into the evening sky.

Sylvana called a halt.  Something did not feel right, but she couldn't place what it was.

"What is it, Sylvie?"

She glanced irritably at Naoru.  "I've told you to stop calling me that," she replied.  "And I don't know.  Something is not right."

"Why should I stop using the nickname I gave you when we were young?" he asked in a hurt voice.

Sylvana decided no to argue with him.  They'd had this same argument often since she had turned fifty and gotten the outlines of her tattoo-a crescent moon around the corner of her right eye.

"Let's take it slow.  Don't want anyone catching us off guard," she said.

She appointed the elves the would be the guards for the ones carrying the stag.  Everyone had arrows knocked and bows drawn.

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It took them another two days to reach the village.  The forest had smelled like death since lunch time the previous day.  It was eerily quiet too.

They reached the outskirts of the village.  Everything was charred black, as if a great fire had come through.  There were bodies laying around like discarded dolls.  Everyday items had been left where they had fallen, broken and shattered.

Sylvana stopped in her tracks, the other elves coming to a halt behind her.  They looked around, devastation greeting them where ever they turned.

"What happened?" Naoru asked in hushed tones.

"I do not know," Sylvana answered in a voice barely above a whisper.  "Let's spread out.  Search for signs of survivors.  Leave the stag and any unnecessary gear here."

The elves followed her orders, splitting off into pairs.  They left their packs and the stag near a post that marked the border of the village, with a couple of elves to guard them.  Naoru paired himself with Sylvana.

"Let's move out," Sylvana said quietly.  "If anyone finds anything, give the hawk call.  Otherwise, we meet up in the village center."

The other's nodded agreement and slowly began moving out in separate directions.  Sylvana and Naoru headed in the direction of the Chieftain's Hut, hoping to find that Sylvana's parents had survived.

Everything around them was destroyed.  People had been slain in their tracks.  Men, women, children; all were dead.  Mothers had died protecting their babies; husbands protecting wives.  No one had been spared.  Some heartless bastard had murdered everyone Sylvana had ever known and cared about.

"Who could have done this?" she asked in a quavering voice.  In all her one hundred and twenty-one years, Sylvana had never seen such devastation, such carnage, such wonton disregard for life.

"I do not know, Sylvie," Naoru replied quietly.  He was horrified by what he saw around him.

They reached the village center.  Sylvana's hut was not far away.  She was scared to enter; scared of what she would find.

Then she saw him, lying face down in his own blood.  Sylvana raced over, giving up caution.  Naoru was right behind her.

"Papa!" she heartbrokenly cried.  "Papa, please be alive!"

The man in her arms did not move, he did not even breath.  The light had left his clear blue eyes.

"No, Papa!"  Don't leave me!  I am not ready to lead them yet.  There is so much left for you to teach me!" she wailed.  The man did not respond, although his spirit was nearby and sadly watched his only child wail.

Sylvana clutched his body as raid began to fall.  Naoru stood nearby, tears streaming down his cheeks.  He slowly walked over to the crying woman and placed his hand gently on her shoulder.

"Come," he said quietly through his tears.

"No!  I will not leave him!" she vehemently cried out.  Tears had made long tracks through the dirt on her face.

"Sylvana, we need to find your mother.  She may have survived."

"How can you ask me to leave him?" she asked angrily.  "You're not even a part of this tribe!"

Naoru looked stricken.  It was like he had been slapped in the face.  He knew that she did not mean it, that the anger and pain were talking.

He tried again, "Sylvana, please, we will come back for him.  We will bury our dead!  For now, let us search for survivors."

Slowly, Sylvana released her father's body.  "Don't worry, Papa, we'll be back," she said quietly, brushing wet hair from his forehead.  Her hand brushed across a nasty gash, most likely the cause of his death.

"Let's go," she said as she stood.

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The hut was silent.  The door hung on it hinges, swinging in the slight breeze.  Rain fell through a hole in the roof, falling on the precious possessions strewn about.  The smell of death hung thick in the air like smoke.

The woman was barely breathing.  She knew she was going to die at any moment.  She could feel the skeletal hands of Sasori closing around her.  She wanted to live a moment longer, to see her daughter, to know that she lived and that there was still hope.

She should have known that the attack was coming, but lately, the goddess Tashori had been quiet, denying her visions.  She was a priestess and her tribe had always been faithful to the gods of good.  How could this have happened?  Had the Mooncrest Tribe been forsaken?

Creak

The woman cringed as she heard the door slowly swing open.

"Mother?" a tentative, but very welcomed, voice called out.  "Mother, are you here?"

She could barely speak, but was elated to know her daughter, her Sylvana, had survived the horrendous attack.

"I am…." she gasped.

Sylvana just barely heard the words.  She looked around for the source.  It was so gloomy and dark.  She just barely caught some movement out of the corner of her eye.

"Naoru, stay here and guard the door.  I think I saw some movement over there."

Naoru did as he was ordered, while Sylvana moved further into the room.  He was worried about her, so he watched her progress more than he did the surroundings outside the door.

Sylvana moved through the debris towards where she had seen the movement.  The kitchen table was overturned and she saw her mother's sacred beads strewn across the floor.  Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks.  She had heard a low moan and some of the debris had moved.  Sylvana wanted to rush over to the spot, but could not with the table in the way.  She carefully made her way around it.  The sight before her made her gasp.

There lay her mother, High Priestess of the tribe, barely breathing and no longer moving.  Debris from the ceiling had her pinned.  Sylvana rushed over, heedless of the danger.

"Mother, I am here," she said in a hushed whisper.  "Do not worry, we will get you out."

Sylvana was about to call for Naoru when her mother's hand lolled towards her and the woman opened her deep brown eyes.

"My darling child, you have come," she said brokenly.  Sylvana could hear wheezing and a rattle.  "I am not long for this world.  Already, Sasori's hands cup me.  He has granted my last wish to see you…" she coughed.  Tears again streaked down Sylvana's face like tiny rivers.  She gripped her mother's hand, feeling the coldness of it.  Her mother took a deep, gasping breath., "You must leave this place, Sylvana.  They will return to finish the job.  Go and warn the other Tribes!"

Sylvana looked confused, "They?  Who are they, Mother?"

"They are evil.  They are…" Sylvana's mother trailed off as the light faded from her eyes and her hand slipped from Sylvana's grasp.  Her last breath rattled out of her like the wind through the trees in winter.

"No!" Sylvana wailed.  "Don't leave me!  I don't want to be alone!"

But, alas, the greatest woman in Sylvana's young life was no longer among the living.  She had joined her beloved husband in death.

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Sylvana emerged from the hut.  Her cheeks streaked with tears.  To the others, she appeared lost and forlorn.  She was neither though, a deep burning anger having formed in the core of her soul.  She was determined to not only rebuild her tribe from the few that remained, but also find those who had performed this horrendous atrocity and make them pay.  She joined the others as they gathered in the circle that served as the center of the village.  It had once been used for celebrations, now it was a place for mourning.

"What did you find?" Naoru asked, although he suspected he already knew.

"My mother," Sylvana simply replied.

"What now?" another asked.  They had all seen the body of their Chieftain lying nearby.  Now they had learned their High Priestess had died as well.  It appeared that the whole village had died since no living sign had been found.

Sylvana thought for a moment, "You will remain here and bury our dead.  How?  I leave that in your capable hands, just make sure to give a place of honor to my mother and father.  I leave Naoru in charge in my stead.  Follow his commands as if they were my own."

Naoru noticed that she had left herself out.  "And what of you?" he asked.  "You are Chieftain now."

Sylvana looked at him with sad, yet determined eyes.  "I am going to search for those that did this," she answered, holding up a hand to stave off protest.  "As Chieftain, I must lead by example."

"But…"Naoru trailed off, knowing that he would not change her mind.

"I must discover who in Chelnoth's name would do this!"