Tiguaak skillfully dodged the strange metal blade of one of the invaders as they made a fighting retreat back to shore and their strange little canoes that had poured out from their much larger, demonic one that spewed fire and death from its side, before shoving his wooden spear up and into the gap in the beast’s strange, hardened leather armor. The point struck the ferret in the neck, causing her to go down gurgling on her own blood, with some of it spraying across the shrew warrior’s face, which he promptly wiped away. He cared little, however, for her suffering, hard brown eyes watching as she died without granting mercy, before moving on to the remains of the village, once called Amarok. After all, they had not granted the same to him or his own people, betraying them in the negotiations and then mercilessly killing not only the local village chief, but most of his friends, relatives, and clanmmates. Even when offered peace by the high priest, they had simply shot him dead in cold blood. They were evil creatures, through and through, and whatever corpses they left would serve as good meals at the victory feast.
I need to find Amka and little Pana...they might still be alive…
While the other shrews yelled and yelped at Ulog’s head being revealed, scattering into the wind, Tiguaak continued forth, driven by the love he had for his wife and daughter. His god might be dead, but maybe he had protected both of them before he was slain by the demons. Spotting the ruins of his home, he rushed in, hoping against hope he would find both of them alive, the desperate love of a young father fighting against all known reason. His heart sank and he choked up as he saw poor Amka, impaled by the support beam of the hut, bloodied and broken. He let out a pained, primal howl as he rushed over and hugged her, looking at her sweet face and warm blue eyes that hinted of a place much warmer than any beast had ever experienced on their island, before closing them softly. He could not wait here, could not, she would have wanted him to find little Pana, their daughter, rage, guilt, and concern swirling in him like one of Urk’s famed snowstorms. He had only been dragged from his village by his father and cousins, who had told him maybe both had escaped and that once the invaders had been defeated or some accord had been made with them, he could find them. But he had the sinking feeling he would get neither.
Try as he might, he could not see little Pana anywhere-but Amka would have never left her alone, and he had not seen her among the few rescued from the village. Then, he spotted it. Strange pawprints in the snow. No. No! Disregarding his safety, the shrew warrior sprinted out of the shattered remnant of his home, running with all his might towards the beach, following the pawsteps in the manner only an expert tracker and hunter like him could. A few of his brethren shouted at him, calling to retreat, that it was too dangerous, that these beasts had killed their god and that it was futile, but he did not care. All he could think of was his infant daughter, the one who had his mother’s eyes and her father’s fur.
Just as he ran through the strange camp of the beasts, who had left behind so much in their hasty retreat, he spotted the last of their strange canoes just taking off from shore, hurriedly paddling back to their much larger ship. He ran to the edge of the water as fast as he could, the lone shrew to do so, dozens of eyes looking at him as he did so, but his own were looking for his daughter, scanning the boats as best as he could. And there, he saw it. Pana...wrapped in the swaddling Amka had given him...being taken away from him, held by some foreign femme. They were taking her! They were taking his daughter! They were taking Pana!
Snarling, he ran back out of the water, and then doubled back, gripping his spear as hard as he could, then made a running throw. The spear arced out into the air in a masterful arc, but it fell far short of the retreating boats, as a strange song, a lullaby, echoed across the water. Were they mocking him? They stole his kit, and now, they were singing a lullaby to comfort her? Hate blazed in Tiguaak’s eyes, and as the last of the words faded and as the beasts began to go up into their larger ship, he let out a single, loud howl of grief that could be heard across the bay.
"PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
He then dropped to his knees in the icy water, sobbing. They had killed Amka, stolen Pana, and there was nothing he could do about it. Through his tears, he fixed his gaze on the flag blowing in the fading light of the day. The skull and bones flag, embroidered in gold and red. He fixed the image in his mind. This was the symbol of the demons...and the one he would hunt to the ends of the Earth. He would find a way to make a canoe that could go further than all others before him, and he would rescue his daughter from these hellish abominations. He swore it with a blood oath as he took open a knife and cut open his paw, letting the blood mix in with the icy saltwater, not to Ulog, but to the darker gods the wolf had held at bay. He was a beast of theirs now, and these creatures had made him this way.
Urk Expedition Service Badge
