Atian stood out on a rocky ledge, looking over the huge expanse of grasslands before him, in the center was the camp of the enemy tribe. No fires were burning this morning, odd. There was a small wooded area just south of the camp that was sparsely populated by trees and bushes. No doubt the camp was being used as a decoy so that the enemy could strike from the wood in a quick surprise attack.
He hollered for his braves to follow him, and they galloped along on their horses, towards the wood. About twenty yards from the wood, they scattered, and rode in beneath the eaves of the wood, spread out thinly, bows at the ready. But no attack came, no enemies were found. They rode back to the camp, wondering if the enemies had prepared to stage an ambush here. But no attack came.
"Search the village! Find Magis' tribe!" Atian yelled loudly, his men began to bustle around, searching tents, until they decided to finally enter the longhouse. There was a startled yelp from within, and the rest of the braves including Atian ran inside. Atian pushed past the whispering men and looked up to the rafters of the longhouse, constructed from heavy timber brought from a distant forest far north. Atian felt his stomach turn, the entire male population of the tribe hung there, some skinned, others still bearing their tribal markings.
Atian looked into the dead eyes of the chieftain of this tribe, Magis. He was still unskinned, as they stood there, conversing on this strange turn of events. Atian was thinking more about the future implications of this event, he realised something suddenly. The women and children were not here, they must have escaped.
Several hours later, it was dusk, and Atian was back at his camp, speaking with Chaske, his tribe's shaman. Chaske told many old stories, one of his favourites was the tale of the spirit hunter. The legend went that a tribe had angered the spirits by slaughtering innocent women from another tribe, who had been harvesting fruit from a wood when they attacked. So angered by this dishonourable action were the spirits, that one of them made for himself a body of flesh, in the likeness of the offending tribe's chieftain, only a thousand times more terrible to behold. he descended from the sky one night, and over the course of a week, he hunted down and killed all the braves who had taken part in the slaughter. He left those who had not been involved or did not take up arms against him. Then, instead of scalping them, he took their heads as proof of the spirit's power.
Chaske was now comparing what had occurred to Magis' tribe with his story.
"But you see, young Atian, that what you and your braves have told me matches the story almost perfectly. The women and children probably fled or were taken by raiders, the men were undoubtedly killed by the spirit hunter however. Did you notice the thunderstorm two nights ago? No doubt that is when he attacked them. They say in the most harsh of conditions the spirit hunter will strike. I only pray that he does not believe our tribe to be guilty of the same crime he punished Magis' braves for."
"Are you suggesting that my father has been dishonourable?" retorted Atian.
"No, not at all," replied Chaske, "I am saying however, that your father has not been as strict in his upholding of the tribe's honour as some chieftains have been."
Atian would take no more, he was hotheaded, and full of rage and fury, he would learn to listen in time however. Chaske just shook his head, and returned to his chanting over the slowly cooking mushroom powder...
Note: I'm creating a storyline back in ancient times about a predator that gets involved in an inter-tribe war, wiping out one side, and later discovering a far more sinister enemy than the braves of Atian's tribe..
