Tales of the Hunterborn, Vol 1 by Revenavar the Wanderer
In my travels I have heard many stories from many a traveler but truly the tale of one I have come to call Hunterborn stands out the most. The following series of 5 volumes recounts the tale of how the Hunterborn and I came to meet and in turn how I came to learn the tale you are about to read.
Our story starts, as most good stories do, in a small village of no particular note where our Hunterborn was but a child, youngest of two. Whose parents were both soldiers in the Imperial Army. As it so happened the four of them had taking up lodging with one Halfigar, a gamesmen who made the family bread and broth by the hunting of elk and rabbit. As it so happened Halfigar was married with a single child, a devilish troublemaker who on the night before kept the Hunterborn awake through the most devilish of mean, the vilest of which was the soaking of the Hunterborn's clothes as they slept by dragging him partially into the near river, but only after keeping the Hunterborn up all night by superstitiously slipping chicken dung into their mouth whenever she managed to nod off to sleep. By the time the Hunterborn was dipped into the river they had long passed the point most men could stay awake and thus awoke several hours later shivering and in quite a mood.
"I'll skin you little brat and mount you head on the wall!"
Alas it was not to be, after getting the Hunterborn a fresh set of clothes and a warm meal Halfigar's wife suggested, since the Hunterborn's family had left a few hours ago to enjoy a long walk in the forest, to instead meet up with her husband and help bring home the game. You see it was taking longer then normal for Halfigar to return and she was beginning to worry he might have lost track of time or bagged a large elk that was slowing down his return.
Grudgingly the Hunterborn agree and began to look around for their walking stick, you see while the Hunterborn was not lame they did have a mild, persistent, case of Rock Joint and oft used a walking stick to sit or stand. But as it would turn out the devil of a child had tossed the handcrafted staff craved with the head of a wolf into the river and it had washed away which only further rose their ire toward the child. Still Halfigar's wife was able to diffuse the situation and quickly the Hunterborn found a sturdy branch to use as a replacement and headed off to find Halfigar.
But once into the wood the Hunterborn face their first great trial as they soon came upon a wounded hound being beset upon by a pack of wolves, and with the stray they also saw another victim, their querry Halfigar!
Now you must understand that the Hunterborn was still but a child, still chilled from the bath in the river, and not trained in combat, however they never the less charged in using the branch to disorient and stun the wolves while avoiding as much of the attacks as possible. And when the wolves did close around the Hunterborn they discovered a great hidden strength as they were able to help open the jaws with bare hands, and even counter with enough force to dislocate the jaws of the attackers until finally the pack, including their grizzled old alpha lie dead by the Hunterborn's hand, starting them down their future path as a master of unarmed combat.
Still the three did not escape unscathed but Halfigar knew a thing or two about survival, cleaning their wound with some wine and the clear water of a near river as he bound their wound in linen wraps.
"Seems like such a waste to leave such fine meat and pelts to the scavengers," Halfigar mused as he looked over the fresh kills with nary a cut on them. Nay they had all be felled though blunt trauma at the hands of the Hunterborn! "Tell you what, help me bring the our prizes back home for field dressings and I'll split the profits with you, maybe even impart a few tricks of the hunt as well."
The Hunterborn was sore, tired, and worn but agreed none the less and they mad the trek home, but that is a tale for another time.