Chosen of Kyrathos.

An Azurnaylian coming of age story.

     Hunnel and one other Chemmekin from her village have been paraded in front of the ork and goblin congregation who’ve gathered for the spring holiday. She and her childhood friend Kitt weren’t the first to be brought to the community long house. Five others were brought in chains and housed with the first three.

     The goblins and orks showered their parents with gifts and praise for the honor of being chosen by Kyrathos. Neither she nor Kitt offered their names to the other's, nor had they offered theirs. They were Kaulka now and alway will be until their death. They will be set free tonight at sundown and at sunrise they will be hunted.

     Voices could be heard from those approaching the longhouse, it was either another Kaulka or food. Despite being locked away from the others they were treated well, they were given blankets to ward off the nights chill and plenty of food. The door was being unlocked, Hunnel and the others sat and looked dejectedly at their feet, they wouldn’t have to worry about being attacked before tomorrow but why chance it by making eye contact.

     Penka the ork warlord who’s hosting this year’s celebration unlocked the door and enterd the longhouse. In turn, goblin and ork warlords entered the longhouse to observe that no undue harm had come to this years tribute. Penka proudly stood as the others gawked at the largest collection of Kaulka in living memory. Once all were satisfied by what they saw the door was then closed and relocked.

     Hunnel and the others were the smallest of Kyrathos’s children, growing only at three feet in height, Chemmekins were either used as spies in the orks and goblins endless wars against dwarves and humans, or their communities were swallowed up to grow food for their larger cousins. The brutish Jotunn ignored them unless hungry even if the chemmekin has reached the age of adulthood and their hair turned red, designating them as kaulka.

     Despite the red hair they had the same light gray skin and large oval eyes that helped them see better in the tunnels as they spied on enemies or ferreting out various animals both dangerous and potential food sources. She and the others were brought to Penka’s village after their change. This was the greatest fear of all Chemmekins before entering adult hood. Luckily for most the change is extremely uncommon.

     It wouldn’t be long before their executioners meal was served, afterwards they would be strutted out in front of all who gathered. Each would be given a dagger to defend themselves and when the sun had fully set they were turned loose to flee in which ever direction they had chose.

     Hunnel looked at each and every one of her ‘companions’. With the exception of Agaun with whom she grew up with, the others were utter strangers to her. No one dared to speak, they couldn’t afford friendships in this stage of their life. Even she and Agaun had to pretend they didn’t know each other, this and missing her family hurt the most.

     One of the late comers continued to sit on the ground with their back to the rest. He seemed to be writing or drawing something in the dirt, he would then scratch it out and muttering something under his breath. Between drawings he would rock back and forth or rhythmically tap on the wall he sat in front of. Hunnel wondered if he had been trained as a spy before his change.

     No one else seemed to take much notice in what he was doing, Hunnel only hoped that if he was trained as a code talker he wasn’t found out. If he was caught, warlord Penka could by his right, claim his pelt as his own. For his sake Hunnel hoped she was reading far to much in to it.

     Hours passed that seemed to stretch in for days before their ‘honor’ meal was brought to them and set on the table in the center of the room. The door would remain open albeit heavily guarded to ensure they ate and made no escape attempts. Everyone looked about nervously to each other and the food that was brought in.

     Ork women, presumably Penk’s wives brought in platters of cooked fish, chicken and or duck, a variety of roots and tubers. A cast iron pot was even brought in and held what appeared to be a meat laden stew of some kind. The last of what was brought in appeared to be a variety of salted meats. Once done the women left the long house.

     The one who sat off to himself turned to the table and helped himself to a drumstick from either a chicken or a duck. He bit in to the flesh quite vigorously as he tore a mouthful off the bone a with his teeth and a rivulet of grease ran down his chin. He waved to the food and told everyone to eat after he swallowed his food.

     “Eat what you can,” he started then pointed to the salted meats “divide those and put in pockets for later.”

     Hunnel’s suspicions were correct, an uncle of hers was once a spy for the goblin armies and he often told stories of not finding food and surviving on what he could carry. Her stomach growled reminding her she hadn’t eaten since this morning, like the others she did what she was told.

     As they ate, the one who spoke to them grabbed his thread bare blanket and began ripping it in to fairly equal strips before passing them out to the others. Taking his shirt off he began putting various tubers and salted meats inside. He folded the blanket before knotting each end as close to the food ‘pouch’ before thing it around his midriff and putting his shirt on.

     The others quickly did the same, Hunnel hesitated out of embarrassment and didn’t wish to expose her breasts to strangers. There was one other female in the group who didn’t hesitate doing so, no one stopped what they were doing to simply ogle over her body. Not knowing how long she would survive being hunted, taking rations of food seemed quite logical. Hunnel followed suite.

     Once all were done squirreling away some food they continued to eat what was brought before them. It was almost possible to ignore the cheers and celebrations going on amongst their kin and cousin races. Thankfully there were no Jotunn, they were not only too big to feed properly there was always that chance they would mistake the group of chemmikens as food.

     One of the warlord’s subordinates entered the hall and calling everyone to attention. It was now their time to be presented to the others and the ork commanded them to line up in single file. He then ordered them to march, he watched them all leave before falling in behind them. There was no need for the goblin and ork ‘honor’ guard, it wasn’t asmif they could be killed before dawn.

     Hunnel and the others were marched out in between the crowds who have gathered and the dais where warlord Penka sat with hers and the other parents. For the last seven days celebratory games were held and prizes awarded to those who won them. Once they stood were they were commanded to, the sun had mostly set in the west. Three sharp notes blasted from an ork war horn that brought silene along with all eyes upon the row of Kaulka’s.

     Penka stood, adjusted his half dozen red scalps that hung from his hip, and raised his hands to the sky as he praised Kyrathos the god of death and creator of the four races, Jotunn, Ork, Goblin, and Chemmiken. He thanked their creator for honoring him with such a bountiful year of Kaulka. He then praised and thanked their parents for the sacrifice of their children. He then exempted them from one year of service as was customary to do so.

     Once the last rays of the sun winked out of the sky, Penka commanded the crowd to make a path. “Kaulka! You have until sunrise to make your way as you see fit before you’re hunted, killed, and your pelt is added as a trophy for the one who slayed you.”

     The palisades gate was opened, Hunnel and the others jogged towards their last few hours of freedom to the cheers pf all who congregated for this moment.