[Nexus] The Hunting Grounds 2: Murdering is Magic

[Halae]

The goddess of the hunt watches with anticipation and a grin. The hunts progress as she wills. Across all her territory, warriors and beasts fight in her name.

The Plains, both Snowy and Grassy are where large beasts lumber along. many wary creatures, all dangerous in their own right, give wide berth to others. but always, always, you see a hunt occurring. Or you don't, if the attacked is striking from the shadows.

The Forest, like the plains, becomes snowier as you go north, though it's clear of such things further to the south. Be warned; dangerous creatures stalk these woods; shadowy beasts willing to tear apart enemies if given half a chance.

West of the forest is a set of Mountains, at least one of which is volcanic. Flying creatures often roost here, and the dangerous things that can survive both the altitude and the other beasts that call this place home. Deep, dangerous Caverns exist beneath the mountain range.

In the rain shadow of the mountains is a wide Desert. Creatures of the sand make their home here, even going so far as to have developed land sharks ready to destroy unwary intruders. In the center of the desert lays a massive Marble Tower, apparently made from a single solid block of marble. There are no apparent entrances, but it stands there all the same.

To the the East is the Ocean, and who knows what lives within its sunless depths? Nothing safe, that much is assured.

And finally, though it's hidden from view below and above, by obscuring clouds, there is a Floating Island, out above the water. Nobody has ever been there, so what horrors exist upon this island are unknown... right now.

Spoiler: Huntside

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Huntside

So reads the sign posted outside of this small but bustling community, driven into the ground with a rather large stake and built of thick wood, as if expecting trouble for such a simple furnishing. Under the name reads "Keep your Weapons Holstered" in red.

The town looks like it could barely hold a hundred occupants, but those that are there are certainly capable. A small but defensible wall tightly surrounds the town, with a gate at each cardinal direction. These walls are mostly concrete and stone, although some bits seem to have been repaired or reinforced with metal. Each gate is made of thick wood and metal, as stone is a bit heavy for doors. The buildings, few though they are, all seem to be either made of or reinforced with non-flammable materials, though several instead seem to have been reinforced with rubber or more exotic materials instead. Many seem to be made from salvaged materials, and the few that are made from more sturdy bricks have colors that don't quite match, as if they'd been built alongside existing walls and no one had bothered to hide it. On one side of the town is a number of small fields, the largest space thought sustainable with the place's location. The risk is likely still great, but to such an isolated place resources can be scarce if trade slows. A dedicated team of Felyns, (small antropomorphic cats) dutifully maintain them.

Also outside the walls is a small station on the east and west side, including a large platform with a crane and a number of small structures. These are used in the hoisting and butchering of hunts of tremendous size, which are uncommon but not enough to devalue such things.

The fields are noticeable from a distance, but two other things are equally as eye-catching. The first is a great tree, stretching at least fifty meters in height, which dominates the center of town, its broad branches extending over the entire central square. A small wooden building, squat and round, is built around one side of it, acting as the meeting place of a small circle of druids and the temple of the Hunting Ground's patron goddess, known simply for her role: The Huntress. She has been ever mysterious, so much so that few act as her clergy, as no one knows quite what that would entail. As such, there is simply a modest but well-built altar of the finest wood in a prominent place at the heart of the building, against the trunk of the great tree. Behind it on the walls are six plaques: One depicts a perfectly round hill in the forest. One depicts a dead caldera. The third, a floating island over a tower. The fourth an island in the ocean. The fifth, a seemingly out of place mountain in the middle of a desert, and the sixth a shrine in the tundra.

Around the Tree and the Temple is the town bazaar, covering almost half the town and employing a very solid chunk of its population. Three circles of booths and stores surround the Tree. Closest and smallest are the weapon and armor vendors. This is mostly because the town's dedicated artisans have their own permanent shops on the streets proper, so the small vendors are usually temporary, small-time, visiting, or employed by the masters. The second circle is for food and other essentials, and the third is effectively everything else; jewelry to backpacks to books.

But even in front of the enormous spread of the Bazaar, the town hall dominates the landscape. Constructed from the bones of some leviathan, its ribs arcing over into a roof after being covered in the strongest wood, scales, and leathers possible, it is certainly an imposing structure, even if some would call it a bit gaudy or unnecessarily complicated. It is here where Clans and hunting Guilds go and register themselves, and where most official business is conducted. It is easily the most recognizable part of the town, even compared to the size of the Great Tree. On a board outside the town hall itself is a number of bills posted for various monsters seen in the Grounds. Each has a hand-drawn picture. Apparently the idea is to inquire inside if you require more information, want a requisition, or other things the town would care about.

Spoiler: Huntside Mess Hall

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The Huntside Mess Hall is a long, sturdy wood building running north-south with a few bricks for its chimney and such, and a lot of opened windows, which is nice to keep the place a reasonable temperature but the smells have a tendency to make everyone hungry. The staff aren't complaining. It's mostly an open cafeteria, with its cooks stationed on the west side at a number of grills, spits, ovens etc. behind a number of counters. Many are laden with empty plates for the wash, but many are still active.
Because you know what's the best thing about missing breakfast?
You're just in time for brunch!

Most people can't afford to wake up late enough to catch the Huntside Brunch special, which has a rather small window before the lunch menu starts, but that doesn't stop head chef Duzur from making it every day. Or so he claims, in reality he hasn't been doing it that long, he just felt like cooking waffles about a month ago and started doing it since without really telling anyone.

Duzur himself is a very portly blue Seeq of middle age (although it's hard for most people to tell, since he doesn't have a head of hair, he's the same size he's been for years, and his voice is always gravelly due to his face and mouth structure), and that's portly by their standards, which is to say that a human his size would likely not be merrily walking around with a spring in his step. He is doing so now, dressed in his usual attire. Which is to say, he's wearing an apron that was probably white at some point, and not much else besides the minimum to cover his modesty, having apparently subscribed to his race's normal fashion sense coupled with "it's hot in here." It's something most people don't care about. After all, between the Druids and Hector being animals half the time, the felyns wearing what they feel like and nothing else, and the reptiles like Hector not caring about mammalian definitions of modesty, the people are pretty loose about that sort of thing.

It's worth noting that anyone of a normal lifestyle would be appalled at the amount of calories (and frankly everything else) this fellow puts in his food, but he'd respond to any hypothetical accusations of serving unhealthy food by saying that if a Hunter can't burn off what he serves, they're not doing their job. And knowing the Hunting Grounds? He's pretty much right. Those who are only merchants tend to stick to the subordinate chef's counters. These other chefs consist of three humans, two Felyns, one other Seeq, an Ogier, a Twi'Lek couple, and an ifrit (his specialty is flame-broiling ), in addition to three halfling boys from town who work their family's stand but help clean up the place after meals. And every last one of them is a bit round, because no matter what Cielnoir sets as a limit for Duzur he always ends up making more food that's needed, and he adamantly refuses to throw away good food. In the end, they don't complain.

Spoiler: Important People and Businesses

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Roran Highwind- Huntside's chief courier. The town has a few dedicated couriers, although none compete with their leader's efficiency. The seven-foot bipedal dragon might not be as fast as a griffin or harpy, but few can match his endurance. He's also a complete workaholic, which means that he has his own staff to cover the actual mail-processing duties when he's out doing deliveries (read: most of the time).

Hector Lon- This fellow runs the only library in town. It's a rather modest little brick building off in a corner but still rather valuable, as who wants to go on a hunt unprepared? He also doubles as one of the few dedicated mages in town. He's also the first to see if you were bitten by any strange animals, as he's a werewolf. Of course, no one's ever seen him as not wolfish, so some debate that label. He doesn't seem to care much.

Reorx- this stout dwarf works the town's main forge, placed just outside the Bazaar circle. It's an open building mostly of reused bones and leathers forming tents, but the forges themselves are all stone. Despite the heat of his work he's never been seen without his steel helmet. He rarely talks, and as he's never told anyone his name people refer to him by the god whose holy symbol his helmet bears. No one is more skilled in arm and armor-craft than he, with any materials.

Hound- this tall, imposing Yautja acts as the leader of Huntside's hunters, those dedicated both to its defense from roving monsters and continued raids into the Grounds for resources. He is strong and capable as both a leader and a fighter, but he is often irritable with outsiders.

Gearhead- If Reorx can't forge it, it's probably impossible. If it's impossible, ask Gearhead. This tall, barrel-chested ork is named such for his distinct skull, which has a very large portion of its back and left side replaced with a brass cap with several gears sticking out, eternally spinning and clicking. His head was impaled by a Retriever years ago, but he assured his comrades it was a flesh wound and shot it dead before finding himself some replacement parts, ignoring all claims that his brains were splattered over the ground, that gears were not a suitable replacement for brains, and that they have no actual power source keeping them spinning.
Oddly enough he has proven time and time again an extremely competent engineer. Most of the buildings he designs stay standing when build by ordinary architects, and his methods of maintaining guns involves actual tools and logic. The ones he makes though, most people don't bother to really inspect besides asking how to aim, shoot, and keep from exploding. All in all, his stuff is incredibly reliable, as long as you don't think too much about what's going on in that head of his. His workshop is a ramshackle affair covered in every bit of metal imaginable across from Reorx's, and of course painted bright red.

Cielnoir- The Chief and leader of Huntside, he's been largely credited from turning it from a tiny outpost into a functioning community, even if it is still mostly a trade outpost. He's been described as intimidating, shrewd, subtle, and cunning. He has been called a master hunter and unrivaled with a firearm. He has been rumored to have once beaten a pit fiend in poker, and tossed it out on its ass when it accused him of cheating.
He's also been described as an irritatingly cute little winged bunny-man, because he's a Moogle.
Do not make fun of his pom-pom or his "Kupo." They are very effective ways to get shot. Still, the "fuzzy little leader" as Rory calls him has proven time and again his competence, and defended his title over many challenges. His home and office are in the Town Hall, within the skull of the beast used in its construction.

Huntside is a trading post first and foremost. It's a place people pass through as a stop on their way to the Hunting Grounds, but slowly it developed into a small town built around preparing people for its hazards and the hunting business in general. Although its size is small, there are few places that could be called so incredibly specialized and so well-prepared in that field. But for this reason, its defenses are mostly only to protect against monsters. All are welcome if they follow the rules are the town, which are largely basic logic save for the one on its sign.

Enjoy your stay, and happy hunting.

Spoiler: Job Board

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While there are currently no Monsters to be hunted right at the moment put up by players, there are always ones being put up by NPCs. Ask in OOC if you want a beastie to hunt down.

Let the Hunt continue.

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2
Rules and Notes:

Spoiler

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So, here's the skinny, partly stolen shamelessly from other threads.

1. This is an open thread. Anybody can stumble across the hunting grounds if you want them to, but keep in mind that anybody here is fair game to be attacked by the other players, including with their monsters.

2. Anybody can introduce a new monster without consulting me first. If you want a lightning unicorn? Go for it. Just remember that anything made here has to have a way to be killed. That isn't to say it can't be extremely difficult, but it should be capable of dying.

3. This is a high lethality thread. Fights will happen here constantly, so don't complain if you get eaten by some terrible monstrosity. However, this leads us into the next point...

4. If you character (or monster) proves themselves, they will be resurrected a few days later in a relatively safe location. To prove yourself, you need to show the goddess that you are a hunter. Creatures of humanoid intelligence will find their minds degrading slightly every time this happens, though this is eliminated if you prove yourself once more. Weaklings however? Die without the goddess resurrecting them. They can be raised by other means, but the goddess will not support a weakling.

5. Every time a character or beast makes an impressive kill, they are rewarded in some way. Perhaps a swordsman is given a sword made from the bones of the dragon he just killed, or a wolf that kills a bear is given saber teeth to hunt larger prey. The rewards are always personalized, and I'll work with you to decide what they'll receive.

6. If you have a Monster you want hunted, go ahead and place the monster on the job board outside the Town hall. Chances are, someone will pick it up.

[Halae]

[The Plains]

Among the grasses is what appears to be a large two-tailed scorpion-crab thing. For now, it's just chewing on the leftover bones of an old corpse, it's incredibly strong teeth breaking down the rib with surprising efficiency before ingestion.

Something may stumble upon it during its meal, however...

[Rebonack]

[Plains]

Not too far away a pigeon lands on a old, twisted stump that was once a tree in bygone ages. The landing comes with that fluting sound so typical of birds of its type and it quickly settles itself on a gnarled snag of a branch.

It gives a small coo.

But otherwise doesn't do anything.

Meanwhile high above...

"Little feathered rat accursed of Enki..." mutters the power armor clad griffin soaring through the clear sky following the broadcast trail of a certain bird. Not that long ago one of his scouting drones had been turned into a pigeon by an intense storm of chaotic magic and clashing potentiality. And despite this it is still fully functioning as a drone.

Except of course for the fact that it seems to enjoy flying off to remote and dangerous areas for no readily apparent reason. Gerra could really do without that feature. But all the same he's loath to lose one of his four drones...

[Halae]

[Plains]

Is that?

It is.

Prey small enough to strike at and kill for food. Mm. It would be so nice not to be eating bones. Or at least, not just bones.

Slowly, it starts moving towards the pigeon, creeping along in the tall grass, its tails held low to the ground so that they don't alert the bird to its presence.

[Rebonack]

[Plains]

The pigeon continues to sit on the old snag. It doesn't seem to be at all aware of the impending doom and horrible death that awaits it.

That poor, stupid bird.

Poor poor stupid bird.

Meanwhile!

Gerra's HUD informs him that something large and alive is currently creeping towards his pigeon/drone. This doesn't tell him for sure that said creeping thing is intent on devouring the poor bird. But given the wild nature of the area he's been flying over he isn't about to press his luck.

The griffin tucks a wing and begins diving toward the surface.

"I swear if you get yourself eaten..."

[Halae]

[Plains]

It's not really large. Like the size of a medium sized dog, really. Still, that's plenty large to a pigeon. Once it's up close, the devourer's pincers will strike, trying to spear the pigeon.

[Rebonack]

[Plains]

The pigeon gives a little hop and lands neatly atop one of the gribbly critter's pincers. It doesn't seem terribly spooked by this turn of events and just sits there staring at the creature with its googly pigeon eyes.

Silly googly pigeon eyes.

Aaaaaand here comes the griffin.

The devourer's only warning will be a sudden shadow looming over it as Gerra swoops down out of the sky and aims to grab the creature by its tails in his talons. Should he manage to catch the thing he'll haul it through the air a short distance and then simply release it to allow momentum to do the rest.

If he misses?

Well.

He's moving pretty fast...

[Halae]

[Plains]

The devourer would have used one of its tails to kill the bird, if not for the sudden darkening of the sky. The devourer remembers a griffon that once scooped it up and them dropped it from really high. He'd been lucky to survive.

Memory plus instinct to dodge means that the devourer will dodge out of the way seconds before it would have been squished! it jumps to the side, its spiky legs carrying it surprisingly far.

And, acting on instinct and panic, it moves back over to whatever just landed and tries to stab it with its tails.

[Rebonack]

[Plains]

The sudden movement finally seems to have dislodged the pigeon. The bird takes to the air once again AND!

...lands on the devourer.

Really?

Really?

Anyway...

Who said anything about landing?

Gerra sees no compelling reason to land and engage the creature claw to talon. He has the advantage of flight and failing to take advantage of that would be foolish. All he's trying to do is to get his pigeon/drone clear of the strange monster.

No reason to kill it even. It's probably just some dumb animal doing what comes naturally to it. No, he'll just-

There comes a loud sputtering sound from the electric blue arrays on his armor and the griffon drops to the ground like a stone.

*thud!*

"Oh. Wonderful. A complete array-matrix shut down. Impeccable timing, too."

Without any power the armor clad griffin is completely immobile. Just a bit lump of ceramic and plastic sitting there in the grass.

[Halae]

[Plains]

The devourer will creep over to the now stationary griffin, and then tap it on the head with a claw. Like poking someone who's unconscious to see out of it he is.

[Rebonack]

[Plains]

The inert vaguely griffin shaped thing doesn't move when poked. It doesn't smell like food. Not even a little bit. It smells like... stone. And other less identifiable things that wouldn't be found in the context of the wild.

This...

Is a problem.

Gerra can reboot his armor. But that will take time. And it would also mean he would need to remove his armor and work on it. While he's quite a bit larger than the obviously predatory animal he rather doubts that it will just leave peacefully.

So...

It seems he'll have to fight it in the way of the ancestors after all. Gerra triggers the emergency release on his armor-

-and it flies apart almost explosively.

The griffin rises from the disjointed remains clutching his Caster. Without the armor's astral engine he'll have to rely on his own innate thaumaturgy to power it. Gerra spreads his wings and lifts himself up, looming large and intimidating as electric blue geometric arrays shift about him. The cannon-like weapon reconfigures into a long staff ending in a vicious blade of cold starlight.

[Morty]

[Snowy Plains]

The thing is cut in two and stops moving, from what they can tell it appears to have died considering it's starting to melt as well. It's not the only one though, the entire field is right now bathing in the silvery liquid. It appears to be slowly sink into the ground and the snow surrounding them much like oil.

Wenomir looks up too see how Hill's doing.
"Alright, what now?"

[Darkcomet]

[Snowy Plains]

"Got the one I distracted. Was that one of the demons you were talking about?" Hill asks, even as he retrieves his other gear-his sword, if it's still intact, and the assault gun he used to shoot down the missile swarm.

[Mr. Moon]

Ocean

Tail-Chaser paused, letting momentum carry her canoe forward. She holds a paddle in both paws, the flat of it just above the water. She'd separated from her pack a day ago, after hearing about it. The Hunting Grounds. Only the best, greatest hunters came here to prove their mettle. Here, she would prove herself among those ranks by slaying a great beast and taking a prize back with her to earn her Name.

The wolfen female was young, still between her First and Second Sheds. Her coat was a light grey, tipped with black at her ears and paws. She wore no clothes, save for a coarse leather guard on her right forearm, decorated on the sides with salmon jawbones - teeth and all. On the floor of her canoe lay a leather satchel, filled with smoked meat and flint for starting fires. Next to it, a long stone-tipped spear lay within easy reach, with three smaller javelins in a bundle further away. Also an extra paddle. Never go out with just one paddle.

Excited and full of foolish young pride, Tail-Chaser lowered her paddle back into the water and pushes forward. Should nothing stop her (hah), she'll reach the shore within a five or so minutes. As she paddles, she sings softly to herself.
"My paddle's keen and bright,
Flashing like silver
Follow the wild-bird's flight,
Dip dip and swing"

[billtodamax]

Ocean

A hideous four winged monster might be seen by Tail-Chaser off in the distance and approaching quickly. It has four long twice-jointed arms hanging from its relatively small body, each ending in a fierce talon. It has a group of four eyes on the bottom of its body that madly swivel back and forth as it approaches.

It has a coat of dark brown fur covering its body - even its wings, although it has a thick coat of feathers over the fur.

A deep, rumbling moan is heard from deep inside its body. Tail-Chaser should get ready.

[Mr. Moon]

Ocean

Fur and feathers? That's an odd mix.

Tail-Chaser glances up, ears perked, as she first hears the wing-beats and far-off growl of the... weird... flying... four-winged... thing. What the heck was it?

... It was ugly, whatever it was.

As it flies closer, Tail-Chaser sets down her paddle and picks up her javelin bundle. She rises slowly, knees bent and balance carefully spread to avoid tipping her canoe. Once the ugly flying thing was close enough, the wolfen cub will hurl the javelin at its centre of mass.

[billtodamax]

The... thing is making a really loud rumble now. It's not loud enough to disable or anything, but it sure is annoying.

When the javelin is thrown, the thing raises one of it's arms and swats at it. It gets most of it, but because of how awkward it is for it to swat at anything that high, it still gets a long wound along its body.

This seems to make it angry (I guess? It's kinda hard to tell) and it throws itself at Tail-Chaser, flailing at it with its arms, trying to grab, rip, and tear Tail-Chaser.

[Mr. Moon]

Ocean

After Tail-Chaser throws her javelin, she drops the bundle back into her canoe. Ducking down after it, she scoops up her spear. It's not the best spear in the world. Heck, it's not even in the running for the decent-est spear in the world. It's a particularly sharp rock tied to a whittled branch that fit well in her paws. But it's a serviceable spear. And that's what mattered, really.

By the time the flying ugly weird thing reaches the wolfen, she has it clutched in both paws, her feet braced against either side of the canoe. Trying to tackle Tail-Chaser results only in a spear in its face, which she tries to thrust into one of the eyes on its underbelly. "YAH!"

[billtodamax]

The thing jinks slightly to one side, slowing down on its approach and getting a long gash down the side of its body and up into one of its wings. The rumbling from deep inside it only gets louder as it falls, swatting with its arms now at the spear. It's no longer falling directly towards Tail-Chaser however, it's peeling off to the side - this is causing it difficulties when it tries to grab at the spear.

[Mr. Moon]

Ocean

Bluh, dodgy thing! "Grr! Hold still and let me stab you!" the cub growls. One of the thing's talons clips her side, but doesn't get through her thick fur. It'll bruise later, though. It does knock her off balance, though, the canoe rocking dangerously as she struggles to remain standing and not get a face-full of wing. Fortunately, its attempts to remove her of her spear are just as clumsy, and Tail-Chaser manages to hang on to it. Barely.

Nearly about to capsize, the wolfen does the next best thing to having ground to brace against. She stabs up hard at the thing and hopes her spear will impale deep enough to give her something to hold onto.

[billtodamax]

The spear drives right into the beast, just to the left of its cluster of eyes, and its thick blood starts flowing freely from the wound. The rumbling starts to sound strained and forced.

In a fit of anger, the thing flings its arms forward, trying to seize Tail-Chaser by the arms and legs, and start pulling them apart as hard as it can on them.

Its wings are barely beating, and Tail-Chaser will be holding a significant part of its weight.

[Mr. Moon]

Ocean

"Ow! Hey, let go of me!" At this close range, with both of Tail-Chaser's forepaws occupied holding onto her spear and her hindpaws braced for balance, the flying thing won't have much trouble wrapping its talons around her ankles and left wrist. But when it starts pulling, Tail-Chaser's hindpaws slip out of her canoe. She's falling. Which is actually fine by her, since she'd planned to do something like this from the start. With the last moment of her control over her own momentum, the wolfed cub grips her spear tightly and heaves her weight and the flying thing's weight to the side. This will result in the pair of them about to hit the water.
Who has the bigger lungs?

[billtodamax]

The thing flaps its wings madly, but without the strength of its fourth wing it nevertheless pitches straight into the water.

While under it lets go of Tail-Chaser and starts flailing its wings and arms as wildly as it can, trying to resurface. It is not a water thing, it is a flying thing!

If Tail-Chaser isn't careful, she'll get a talon or two clawing into her as it flails, but eventually it will start to flail less and less as the combination of blood loss and air loss overcomes it.

[Mr. Moon]

Ocean

Even though the flying thing let go of Tail-Chaser, she isn't inclined to return the favor. Ignoring the clubbing and scratching of its talons, the wolfen cub grabs on to it with one paw. Using her teeth and the sharp claws on her other paw, she bites and tends wherever she can. Even her own body weight becomes a weapon, as she forces it further down into the water.

[billtodamax]

Eventually the thing stops struggling and goes limp, the combination of blood, air, and stamina loss too much for it.

Sure seems dead.

If Tail-Chaser has the strength, she'll be able to pull it back onto her boat with no resistance.

[ThirdEmperor]

The Desert


Here again.

Couldn't really say why. Boredom probably. Maybe their adrenaline-crazed, wired-for-violence neanderthal brains couldn't take normal life. Maybe being rich got old- Buy this, buy that, no struggle, no need to fight for it.

Still, for whatever reason, the brothers three have wandered back to their old stomping grounds, plus a few new toys since they last visited. A silvery thermal tent sits pitched under the shade of a rocky overcropping, twin autoguns turning side to side as they stand guard. They wear powered armor, buglike exoskeletons that gleam painfully bright under the desert sun, loaded down with rail rifles, harpoon guns, tracker darts...


In fact, they seem to be under the impression they're topping the foodchain in these parts... Maybe something would care to try challenging that assumption.

[Mr. Moon]

Ocean

Finally.

Tail-Chaser attempts to drag the thing's corpse back up with her - not because she wants to keep it or anything, she just wants her spear back. Unfortunately, she's lost too much air in the fight. She was going to have to swim up and then dive back down. So she does that! Releasing the beast, the cub pushes off against it and ascends back to the surface. Wolfen from her pack are adept at swimming, thanks to their costal lifestyle. Webbed paws and strong lungs both help them to dive for the big tasty fish that live well below the surface.

Breaking the surface, Tail-Chaser pauses just long enough to catch her breath before plunging back down to swim after the flying beast and her spear.

[billtodamax]

Ocean

If Tail-Chaser can catch up with the rapidly sinking body then she is free to it. The thing is definitely dead.

((A.k.a. Godmod permission given over the corpse.))

[Mr. Moon]

Ocean

Well, flying creatures aren't really known for their weight. So a rapidly downward swimming mammal shouldn't have much trouble keeping up. Bringing it back up is something of a struggle, since giant bleeding four-armed flying-thing carcasses aren't known for being super streamlined. But sooner or later, Tail-Chaser brings it up, dragging it by her spear. Once she breaches the surface she'll work on pulling the spear out of the monster, re-locating her canoe, dropping her spear back in the canoe and climbing back in the canoe herself. She'll try to drag the carcass into the canoe after her, but knowing the Goddess it might not be very substantial anymore.

[billtodamax]

Ocean

There is a great churning of the ocean waters near Tail-Chaser, as from the depths of the ocean rise a large island.

The water streams from the island as it rises, and clearly visible in the middle of the island is a spear, point down in the island.

Its tip is clearly crafted from the talon of the beast, still retaining the same distinctive curve, while the base of the spear tip has a few feathers hung from it. It appears to have split the island when it was embedded into it.

When held Tail-Chaser will find she is able to hold her breath for longer. The spear is also unnaturally sharp, and will retain this sharpness through repeated use.