A Pacific Northwest Tribal Tale

Duncan McDaniels Journey

The journey was long, very long. Months of traveling had made an exhausted body and mind. But Duncan needed to keep his mind sharp and wits sharper, for his presence was not welcome as he traveled across the land. He was constantly followed by shadows in the distance. This was unsettling of course, but two things held Duncan's courage. The first, his journey was ordained by the church, and by proxy, god; and if god did not want him to succeed then why send him? The second, Duncan was not alone on this quest as he was joined by two other men along this journey. Brother Watts was a man of few words, but an intense gaze. Duncan was not sure if Brother Watts had any particular skills in magic, but took solace that he would not have been sent if he didn't. Brother Watts also had a peculiar cross that he seemed to have an abnormal attachment to. Duncan would swear that from the corner of his eye Brother Watts would speak to it. When Brother Watts did speak, it was in wheezes or whispers, but he did display a deep breadth of knowledge. Duncan recalled plenty of times that Brother Watts helped the group in dangerous situations that had he not known a particular weakness to a savage beast, or how to get around a natural disaster, the group would not have made it was far as they have. The other man, a bit more jovial, was Mr. Toad. Aptly named, Mr. Toad was the merchant in the group. He made sure that in each town they were well supplied, and an almost unlimited amount of contacts. Mr. Toad was a portly man with a toothbrush mustache. Surprisingly, his best skill however, was the ability to tell well timed jokes. Especially since their journey frequently had them trudging through truly terrifying terrain.

The small group of three had seen a lot on their journey across the continent. Werewolves, possessed trees, herds of spirit bison, monstrous snakes, and even a creature that none of them could identify. Duncan shivered remembering its soul shaking howl one night in a forest they camped out in. Brother Watts assured Duncan and Mr. Toad it was just another werewolf, but when Duncan had to take a bathroom break in the forest, he saw something that stopped him in his tracks. It was a monstrous form massive at least 10 feet tall. It was shaggy, with what looked like two antlers sticking out of its head; but the thing that still haunted Duncan was its eyes. Great round yellow orbs that seemed to stare into your soul. Duncan knew that this creature was surveying him as a meal. But for whatever reason, the creature disappeared as fast as he had appeared.

The less monstrous, but just as savage Tribal survivors were just as troublesome. The local holdouts from Tribes whose strength had long waned, stalked the trio across the great planes. Duncan heard about the churchs land fleets being attacked and destroyed in the early days of traveling west, but those days are long gone. Although, Duncan and group were occasionally reminded that although greatly diminished, the Tribes were not all gone. Alongside the trails they would see burned out or abandoned wagons of various builds and sizes. Some of them even baring official church markings. But Duncan and his traveling companions were finally nearing their destination.

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"Duncan McDaniel" shouted the overstuffed pontiff. "You may approach the council", he still shouted. The acoustics in this place were overwhelming, Duncan thought. "Yes my lord" Duncan responded. He stood in the middle of a round chamber, it was more opulent than he could have ever imagined. The council room was carved of fine marble, wonderful scenes covered every surface showing the triumphs of the church. Duncan was particularly fond of one scene that showed a church wizard fighting off several monsters and driving out the Tribal peoples who once infested the colonies. Truly epic. Duncan had to snap back to why he was here. Apparently there was an opening to a new post in the northwest corner of the continent. The pontiff puffed out his chest and continued, "Duncan McDaniel, you have been found worthy by the council, to carry our will to the godless heathens in the Northwest. Do you accept this posting?" Duncan straightened his back and took a deep breath. "With all my heart and soul, if the church will it".

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The heavy sea salted air awashed Duncan, and brought him back to the present. The northwest was cool, and drenched in trees. There was something pleasant about looking at all the little waterfalls trickling into the ocean. The natural shade was an excellent contrast to the great planes travel that took so much of the journey. The trio had been on an overland trail next to the coast for the past week. Duncan was sure that in his readings he remembered somewhere that the eastern coast had had similar areas of dense foliage, but they were gone now. Along with the original peoples. "We have arrived" whispered Brother Watts. Duncan exited the ethereal carriage, patting the phantom mares as he passed by. What greeted Duncan was something he didn't think possible. An anthro-mage by trade, with Duncans historical readings on Tribes he thought his posting would have been in, as his mentor put it a "god forsaken land". But he was greatly mistaken. What he saw before him simply left him agape.

Magic done in the church, and even by free wizards and witches in the colonies were done typically with wands. Pontiffs or other important figures in the church would sometimes use staffs, but the majority of magical folk used wands. A technique brought over when the first, brave settlers made the journey across the Atlantic. Duncan had heard of some places using different items or objects as magical conduits. Like some of the south west schools of magic using, of all things, pistols as their magical conduits, but never had he heard of a people making magic happen without some kind of focus.

Before him the Tribal peoples were doing things Duncan had not thought possible. As he looked across the bay, he saw children running on water playing some sort of shell skipping game with seals and a few otters. He saw older children deeply engrossed, sitting in a half circle listening to the caws of a raven. Or is that an eagle? Old women sang to trees, and their bark slowly peeled down to their baskets as neat as a tightly bound rope. All of the people here were wearing what looked to be woven tree bark; and In the distance in some high clouds, Duncan thought he saw lighting and a large shadow, but as soon as he started to focus on the cloud, a great stir began happening in the bay.

A deep wail started to drown out the ambient noise in the village. Duncan snapped his head back to the water again, and to his amazement a man was shot into the bay on the back of a massive whale. They were both singing the same deep haunting song in near perfect unison. The man beaches the whale, and the entire village celebrates. The children playing with the seals seem to have scored the winning point because they were jumping in the air for joy before they skipped to the beached whale. The children listening to the raven were so intensely focusing that they were the last to notice the ruckus, but they too ran to make their way to greet the whale.

Duncan doesn't notice at first put when the sad whale song stops his eyes have been streaming. Shame burns through Duncan. How could he not have noticed the effects of magic in the air? Duncan strengthens his resolve and discreetly wipes his eyes. The man on the whale points up to Duncan and his group and shouts "Oh hoh Kluksa Babuchlid!" Duncan is startled to see Brother Watts next to him. He is remarkably quite thought Duncan.

"He says hello and welcome to our village" wheezed Brother Watts.

Duncan gave him a quizzical look. "How can you understand them?"

"Oh this isn't my first time making this journey my boy." Croaked Brother Watts.

"Well, this will be a whale of a tale when you return to the church Dunc' " smiled Mr. Toad.

And oh boy would it. Duncan didn't know it yet, but this would be his greatest adventure.