DbD Thirty-One: Togoria, Part Three (Patreon)

As anti-climactic as it sounded, the return trip was as much a part of the First Hunt as the actual hunt itself. There was no point in a hunt that one could not return from, after all. Fortunately, Ali’ya was not required to bring back the whole kill--not that she could have, given her ribs--just proof. For her, that proof was the head of the Tyrannosaur. It was rather unmistakable, after all, and unlike scales which were regularly shed none could claim it was false proof.

Returning to Caross was more of a trek that Ali’ya would have like. Needing the Force to hold her ribs in place, she was no longer able to make the same swift and long journeys that brought her there, instead keeping to a (relatively) sane pace of fifty-five kilometers per day. It didn’t help that avoiding the Swamp of Vapors added some three hundred kilometers to her journey, nearly doubling it. The five days it took to arrive turned into eight, then twelve, then finally thirteen as Ali’ya stumbled into the city, carrying her prize. She was met at the central square, somewhere the Force guided her despite having seen it only twice. The ambassador of the Margrave was there, as was the Smith and her master, a large crowd of people gathered behind them.

“Have you completed the hunt?” the ambassador asked.

“I have,” Ali’ya answered.

“Do you have proof?”

“I do.” Ali’ya winced as she hefted the head, struggling to ignore the strain on her ribs. She handed it to the ambassador, who ignored the bloodstains in favor of examining it. She then passed it to the Smith, who examined it once more.

“It is done,” the Smith decreed. “Ali’ya of Clan Tyran has proven herself worthy. She has gone forth with nothing but that which nature gave, and returned with proof of her success. Are there any here who would question her?”

Silence reigned in the square.

“Let it be known that Ali’ya of Clan Tyran, Citizen of Togoria, has succeeded her hunt!” The crowd erupted in cheers, and Sora stepped forward, carefully guiding her to the side.

“You are not the only one to return today,” he explained. “Eight ventured east after you, and six before we arrived. Ten of them have returned, including two today.”

Ali’ya sighed in relief. “Good,” she said, wincing as the use of her voice, unheard for the past few weeks, pulled at her ribs. “I was worried we’d need to stick around. I broke a few of my ribs.”

“Such things are common when hunting Tyrannosaurs,” a voice called from behind. Ali’ya startled, then yelped in pain.

“Smith,” she managed, spotting the newcomer’s robes.

“Indeed, I have that honor,” the Smith stated. “The Wind has spoken to me. It speaks to me again, that the descendent of lost fur must learn the old arts. The galaxy calls to you, but for as long as you stay I shall teach.”

Ali’ya blinked. Her mind, fuzzy with pain, struggled to process. “I--thank you,” she decided, having at last reached the end of the sentence. “I will be glad to learn all that you are willing to teach.”

“Ha!” the Smith exclaimed. “You would be, perhaps, but that is not your fate. The galaxy calls to you, as it does the other Jedi. You will not remain long, though you will learn much in that time. I will ensure it.” In a billow of silks the Smith turned, leaving them to their own devices.

“Well that wasn’t creepy,” Ali’ya muttered. “Any chance we can go to a hospital now?”

“Yes,” her master agreed. Perhaps another time he would have corrected her, but in that moment he couldn’t help but agree.

*

Quest: First Hunt Completed!

Complete a Togorian rite of passage by hunting and slaying a creature on your home planet.

Rewards: Physical Abilities now capped at 60. 4,500 experience points.

Bonus Quest: Hunt one of Togoria’s famous predators.

Bonus Rewards: +1 each to Strength, Agility, and Vitality, impress hunters, warriors, and Togorians

Bonus Quest: Completed the Hunt uninjured Failed.

Age: 14

Level: 20 → 21

Experience Points: 23,490/20,000 → 3,490/21,000

Strength: 18 (+8 Togorian) = 26

Agility: 21 (+7 Togorian) = 28

Vitality: 21 (+9 Togorian +2 Underdweller) = 32

Intellect: 27 (+10 Learning Prodigy +2 Improved Memory +1 Technology Adept) = 40

Will: 35 (+10 Force Prodigy) = 45

Charisma: 29 (+1 Noble Lineage) = 30

Luck: 20 (+5 Lucky) = 25

*

The Smith was true to her word. After only three days to recover--two of them spent inside a bacta tank--Ali’ya was rudely pulled from the hospital and thrust into a forge.

“Three things go into the forging,” the Smith (who refused to give her name) stated. “The Smith, the Winds, and the materials. Though crudest and least of the ingredients, it is the materials that keep the Winds in the world, and prevent the Smith from floating off in them. Though they are the least, they are also most important. We begin with bone. Bone is dead, but it was once alive. Wood is the same, only less so for the plants live calmer lives. Bones are vibrant, if one can pull upon its memory of life.”

Ali’ya did not start with carving. She started with observing. She watched as the Smith carved bone. She felt the items afterwards. She felt the bone items of others who gathered in the forge, repaying favors owed by helping with Ali’ya education. Just when she was getting it, the life-that-was-that-will-be of bone, they moved on to wood.

“Time is a luxury,” the Smith explained. “One you do not have, not now. Later, you may return, and we shall work again on bone, yes?”

Wood felt the same as bone, but weaker. No, not weaker. Different. Shifted. Where bone felt, wood knew. Where bone was full of experience and resistance, wishing deeply to be attached to the uses it had in life (a claw or a tooth for a weapon, a leg for a cane, a spine for protection) wood was young and eager to shape. It was all too easy to lead wood down the wrong path, for the wood knew nothing of right and wrong, of natural or unnatural. Wood would realize something was wrong only after it broke and would never protest its malformation. Two weeks were spent on wood, until Ali’ya could successfully craft a spirit-borne cane that she gifted to a Togorian her own age, who lost their leg during their First Hunt.

After wood came metal. Metal has never lived, the Smith said, so it knows nothing. Yet it thinks it knows all, and one must learn to convince it rather than beat it into submission. Beating it is fine for lesser objects but the Winds would not touch beaten metal. Metal had to be coaxed into shape, gently and caringly. It was not the blows that mattered--those would need to be strong, for metal was tough and resilient--but the spirit needed to be calm and guiding. That, at least, made sense to Ali’ya. She could be calm, could guide the metal as the Force guided her. Working with metal seemed to her a kind of moving meditation, one where the metal soaked in her presence and she soaked in the presence of the Force and the Force touched the metal as it touched her as she touched the Force until at last the three became one. The objects she forged were far from perfect, both in their Presence and their physicality, but the Smith said they were good for a beginner, and the Smith was never one to mince words.

Unfortunately, she was also not one to be wrong. As the galaxy’s sixth month wound down (and her true, if not official, birthday passed) Ali’ya’s master received a message. Someone was undermining the agreement between Brentaal IV and Denon, using a mixture of propaganda and sabotage. Master Bulq would be handling the latter while Ali’ya, posing as a student at the Brentaal Commerce Academy, would handle the former.