The Books of Blutora

17 : Saving Seventeen

129-A, the Macabre people found the settlement of Milora, the-from that point onward-acting home to the Aristol - leader of their people. For many years the early Macabre of the north faced constant uncertainty and fear from the deadly Viik that roamed the lands. It had become seemingly impossible to settle into an area permanently, as it was only a matter of time before a wild Viik would happen across the village and leave its citizens dead or scattered. This was of course until the founding of Milora at the base of the Emeri mountains.

Milora was founded by the Macabre of the Northlands in the year 129-A as a last effort to remain in the north of Blutora. They had gathered the whole of their people to come together and build a settlement capable of withstanding an attack from the Viik that had plagued the Northlands and cursed their people for years prior. The Viik are aggressive creatures standing in some instances as tall as trees, covered in white fur head to toe. They are predator to almost all life in the north of Blutora thanks to their immense size, dagger-like teeth, and unrelenting aggression. The Macabre people had decided that instead of attempting to simply up and move their villages over and over after each attack, they would instead bring all of their folk together in a common area to build up and fortify a single stronghold safe from the seemingly unstoppable beasts. This was done thanks to their positioning at the base of a mountain range, and the extremely fortified walls guarding the opposite end of the settlement. More important than the walls even, was the discovery of just how fearful of fire that the Viik were. In small amounts, it made little to no difference, but when in large scale the Viik would often turn back and leave rather than attack. As a result of this discovery, the Macabre placed large piles of wood along the top of the wall to light if ever needed had a Viik approached.

Fortunately for the Macabre, it would be a year before the first Viik approached the ever expanding Milora. They had plenty of time to prepare and practice in case of an attack, and they were ready, lighting the fires atop the wall in time to scare off the fearsome creature. A complete turnaround from the many previous incidents of villages being destroyed and people killed. This success proved to the Macabre that they didn't need to leave their home of the Northlands, and that if they could beat the Viik, they were truly worthy of remaining in the north. A couple more years passed, and by the year 124-A, Milora was running low on resources and sustainability was looking less and less obtainable. As a result, they would send an expedition north to attempt to settle upon the coast and open the option of trade by sea to aid their people. This group consisted of merely seventeen citizens of vastly varying professions and skillsets, their task was clear, survive the harsh north long enough to settle upon the sea.

Early in the year 124-A, the group set off from the stronghold of Milora. They were led by one of their peoples best warriors, and one of the few who were expertly skilled in melee combat, who was simply known as Greil. Over the first days of the expedition, few hiccups halted their progress north towards the sea, minor incidents such as arguments and mild injuries. On a couple occasions the group were happened upon by bloodthirsty wolves, fortunately for the seventeen the wolves were easily dispatched by Greil who towered above the wolves making them look as mere dogs. After just over a week of travel, the group reached the coast, and a peninsula that extended from the mainland well out into the sea. The majority of the group agreed to attempt to settle the new village upon the far end of the peninsula as it would be as far from the inland Viik as possible.

For the first weeks after reaching the desired location at the far reach of the peninsula, the group built up the first houses with ease, all things considered. There were the occasional snowstorms, bear attacks and wolf scares, but nothing the group couldn't handle. Things wouldn't remain ideal however, as over the course of a week distant sounds of a Viik eventually grew closer and closer slowly each day. The group of settlers were largely unprepared for a Viik attack, as they had no real means of creating a large enough fire to scare off the predator. Knowing this, they hoped for the best and tried to remain as quiet as possible while attempting to expand the village further. Despite their efforts however, a Viik did eventually make it's way onto the peninsula and into sight of the settlers as it stood atop a hill overlooking the group from afar. 

Upon spotting the creature, Greil took to his feet as their best chance of survival against the Viik. Unlike previous instances of attack, the people had nowhere to run with their backs to the freezing waters, and a such they had to fight, it would be the deadly creature, or the settlers to come out alive, but not both. The Viik began making its way hastily towards the village upon spotting the people, and Greil met it a distance away from the rest of the group, jumping out of the way of the first attempted bite at the large warrior. He quickly planted his feet and swung his axe at the leg of the beast, drawing blood. Unfortunately, before he could react, the Viik turned and swung his large tail at Greil sending the warrior through the air and across the ground like a ragdoll. After coming to a stop, he didn't get up, or move for that matter. The Viik shook off the pain of the leg wound and turned it's attention to the rest of the group. 

As the deadly creature approached the rest of the Macabre, an arrow whizzed through the air and pierced the beasts neck. A short distance away holding a bow was one of the seventeen settlers, a hunter named Icrif, a quiet natured, hard working Macabre citizen, known only by a few. His shot angered the Viik enough to turn its attention to the archer and begin pursuing him. Quick to react, Icrif turned and began to run towards the water on the opposite side of the peninsula. Every few seconds he would turn and fire another quick shot back at the quickly approaching beast, landing only a couple. Shortly after the first shot, the Viik reached the man and went to bite at him, however Icrif had been paying attention to the sound of the steps and shaking of the ground enough to anticipate the attack, and jumped to the side just in time. Another couple of arrows were shot into the side of the creature as it recovered from its failed attempt at catching its prey. Now they were at the shore, and Icrif spotted some scattered up and broken chunks of ice atop the freezing water, thinking of the impossible. With the deadly predator approaching yet again, the hunter jumped onto a slab of ice, and then to another, and another, further and further out into the water away from shore. The Viik trudged through the water and was slowed just slightly, but standing still well above water level. The agile hunter was able to make up enough distance to take more shots at the creature, that was until he ran out of arrows. Now he was standing upon one of the last slabs of ice a good distance from shore with the Viik slowly approaching with blood on it's mind. All of the arrows shot into the creature made little difference, and Icrif was out of options. He was helpless as the rest of the group watched from afar within the village, sure of his perilous fate while attempting to save the expedition. It was right before the Viik reached Icrif that, perhaps by the will of a deity, or perhaps just a case of blood in the water, the surface of the water was broken by jaws the size of a ship, snatching the Viik whole, and returning to the depths from which it came. 

When the water returned to its settled state, Icrif was nowhere to be seen, and the broken slab of ice he had been stranded on consisted only of marks of red. The settlers stood in awe at what they had just witnessed, and rushed to the aid of Greil who hadn't been killed, only knocked unconscious. 

For the next few weeks, the village resumed it's building and eventually managed to create an outpost at the connection of the peninsula to the mainland, where a large wood pile awaited being lit if needed to avoid another attack. The village would grow to a steady enough state to send work back to Milora of their success, and official founding as a settlement of the Macabre. 

Existing and surviving thanks to Icrif in his quest of saving the seventeen, they wanted to remember the hero - or valon as the Macabre terminology has it, and the village was officially named Icrifivalon.