The Balochian Crisis

[Flo]

Ten kilometers south of Posio, Balochia
Near Arl Lappa
10 Dosa, 1583
Late Afternoon

Biede Brekke pulled the parka tighter over his face as the wind whistled above him. The wind was a constant this time of year. The ancient Saamojedi would blame Biegkegaellies, the diety of the winter winds. He was an angry god, and constantly punished the world for his frustration at his banishment to the skies. He was especially frustrated near the solstice, the anniversary of his banishment. Brekke knew better but cursed the diety nonetheless.

He had been hunting caribou for most of the day with a few of his comrades. They were several meters in either direction. They had followed the beasts to one of the few rivers deep enough to run in winter. The beasts sloshed greedily at the edge of the river, filling up for the rest of their journey. This was a particularly good place to hunt, as the river was deep enough to slow them down, making for easy killing. Furthermore, once dead, the beasts would be easy to catch with large nets further down the river. It was very narrow, but deep, and the dead beasts would have to be caught quickly before they sunk.

As they watched the caribou drink, he identified his target, a large female. He heard a small whistle, similar to a bird call. That was the signal that they would fire soon. He set his rifle, his hand gripping the cold weapon.

A second whistle, that was the signal that, in ten seconds exactly, they would all fire. He waited.

The shots rang out in deafening fashion. They were old rifles, and small clouds of smoke erupted from the barrels. The bellowing of the beasts was loud. Two out of the three had been hit, judging by the injured beasts. In the chaos, the hunters dove into action. They moved down the hill quickly, not wanting their targets to escape.

The two that had been hit were clearly struggling with the current, and were easy to point out. The hunters stood on the shore and threw ropes out to catch the beasts. It was difficult work, but the hunters were trained. Soon enough they had ropes around the necks of the two unlucky beasts. The others made it to the far shore, where they bolted.

The remaining two, exhausted from the struggle, were dismissively being dragged along the river. When they reached a narrow point, where nets had been set, the caribou could hardly struggle as the hunters aimed their rifles a second time, for the killing blow.

A second set of shots rang out. A good haul. The carcasses were pulled ashore and hoisted in the air. The hunters waited for several minutes before they could hear the sound of engines in the distance. A large snowmobile suddenly burst into the clearing where they had hung the animals. The men who brought the vehicle were pleased, the meat would feed the village for a few weeks at least, on top of the current rations from the south.

The beasts were slung over the back end of the vehicle and strapped on with cords. After they had been secured, the driver offered a congratulatory goodbye and drove off in the direction of the village. The hunters had already gathered the ropes and carried them on their backs and began their own trek back. Their snowmobiles were a bit closer, but still about an hours walk away.

---

They could see the smoke from a few kilometers away. Large black columns of smoke drifting lazily into the night. Above the sky, the northern lights could be seen, making for a macabre sight as the plumes appeared before them. It was not a good sign. When they saw it, they rode even faster. It could really only mean one thing. As they grew closer their hearts sank. Great fires in the village. Nearly every home was burning. Wood was the primary building material so there was plenty of fuel.

The caribou they had only so recently killed were among the blaze as well. The waste was monumental. Brekke was unsure if he was crying from the smoke or from the tragedy. The three hunters moved through the village, searching for anything resembling a living person. Oh, there were bodies, both burned and unburned. The snow was stained red. Women, children, and men lay prostrate and cold, their lifeblood spilled.

Brekke did not want to find his home but found himself unwillingly drawn to it. It must have been one of the early ones, as the flames were nearly finished. He peered inside to see two forms that were at one point his mother and sister. This time he knew why he felt tears.

---

The hunters camped outside the village, in the forest. They were unsure if the vagrants would return and didn't want to be in the village when they did. Brekke could not remember a colder night, even while the embers of the village warmed the entire area. They couldn't have been more than an hour late. If they had even been an hour sooner they too would be in the snow.

The next morning they awoke to see the last dying embers of their homes fizzling out. The day would be spent burying the dead. It was heavy work, in more ways than one.

When it was finished, they grouped together. They would leave for the city tomorrow. There was nothing left here for them. Someone had to be held responsible. Above them, Biegkegaellies continued to bellow.

OOC Thread: http://board.eternityrpc.com/showthread.php?tid=366