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« Last post by sjk on April 23, 2024, 12:20:09 AM »
I've gotten back into this game after years of being away, I was on the old forum under the name "Fen of Seal-Tribe" and it felt appropriate to name a character after that once I was back into the Unreal World. It turned out more successfully than I could have ever imagined. This is her story.
Fen of Seal-Tribe was rejected by her community; bad luck, they said. Her uncle was the start of it, blaming her for poor fishing harvests. Isolated, alone, she felt like a stranger in her own home, an outcast who never brought anything good to the world. She wanted to be on the waters, and she wanted to be helpful, and she wanted to be accepted, but these things never came. Bad luck, the spirits didn't want her around. Some of the crueler folk even whispered about 'dead weight,' as though a real, living, person was a burden to bear.
She was sixteen when she ran away. Stealing some nets, an old rod, she ran. Deep, deep, into the South of the Unreal World, until she couldn't run anymore, until she was almost out of supplies. It was almost spring and there was hope for her yet, but she was cold, and hungry, and scared. She found open water, some rapids, in a coniferous forest to the North of the Driik's lands. This would do, at least for now.
She fished every day, and her 'bad luck' seemed to melt away. Salmon and roaches and pike seemed to jump into her rod, and when she lashed together a crude raft of birchbark rope and pine logs, her nets were soon full. The rumors still ate at her, though, and she was diligent, sacrificing the largest fish she caught each day, asking the spirits to forgive her transgressions - whatever they had been so long ago - and allow her to live. With a handaxe, she felled dozens of trees over the course of a few months, and she even managed to build a trap-fence between two narrow passages. A cabin began to form, and then a fenced off area, and she even got elk and reindeer in the fence from time to time, supplementing her diet of fish and foraged berries and leaves.
Sometimes, she went down to the Driik lands, and hired people to help with her cabin. A hunter, wounded from an encounter with a bear, begged her to help him find his father's spear. An adventurer, lost in the woods, found safety with her and was brought to the nearby Driik to recover his strength before he went home. Whatever she could do to help, to earn favour, she did.
By winter, she had enough food to feel at least...somewhat secure. Enough warm clothing that she wouldn't freeze to death. But winter was still hard. Frostbite ate at her hands, and food was scarce towards the end, but she made it out. Using her leftover furs, her smoked salmon, whatever valuable goods she had found or made, she bought seeds and set to work clearing land, until she had a few plots set up. Broad beans, barley, the basics. She bought a dog, even, a companion for her in this cold world.
One day, while she was checking the traps, robbers approached her. She refused to back down. Tipa, her loyal companion, rushed the robbers and took an axe to the neck. Fen rushed, trying to save her animal, but the men overpowered her, stole everything from her, left her dumped alone and cold in the middle of the woods. She crawled, tending her wounds and washing them as best she could, and cried. Her dog was gone, her clothes were stolen off her back. Gathering her things, she went to the Driik village and traded for new linen to wear, but the injuries were intense and the pain made fishing, hunting, everything difficult. The world couldn't let her have too much luck, it seemed, and over a year of successes on her own were too good to be true.
But maybe she could recover. A reindeer in the traps was good luck. Salmon in the nets were good food. She started to recover. It was still summer, she had time. She could survive.
A few days later, at the end of Seedmonth, a bear and her crossed paths. A bear that was aggressive, and charged her. She had no chance, though she fought, slamming her handaxe into the bear as it descended upon her. But she had no chance.
Her last thoughts weren't of home, or of the spirits, or of luck. Her last thoughts were terror, primal human fear of a predator far larger than her, far bigger than her, teeth and claw tearing her flesh like butter. She died alone, far from civilization. The Driik villagers she had befriended would wonder where she went, and maybe went to her cabin, finding only an abandoned place, the nets still in the water, the fields overgrown, projects never to be finished.
Fen of Seal-Tribe lived 419 days alone, travelled nearly 4000 kilometers. All in all, she had a life that defied her home's cruelty. She did so much alone, did so much on her own merit, achieved so much. She was not unlucky, nor disdained by the spirits. She was simply a victim of circumstance, and more often than not, made things work for her. If she was truly a source of bad luck, she would have died months ago, alone and starving in the cold.
But she didn't. She survived far longer than she should have, alone, with only her own knowledge and her best guesses to guide her. She rests now, and may the world be kinder to the next character brought into the Unreal World.
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