Sins of My Fathers - Jorin

[Cloudspeak]

What makes us who we are? Is it something born into us? Is it the will of the Earthmother or some random cosmic happening? Is it the influence of our Sire and Mother? Is success or failure bred into us despite their teachings? Is it our actions today or in the past? Or perhaps is it the actions of others who walked this world before we were ever born? A combination of all?

My Sire and Mother - then Greatmother - did their best to instill on me the tenants of honor and faith as their parents taught them based on the influences of the world during their time. My family line had a long history of success until the betrayal. It then fell into a long history of failure.

Jorin Cloudspeak, clan Speaker and one of many Greatfathers I never knew, had a profound and lasting influence on me. I have tried to forgive him for this burden he placed upon my shoulders, but have been unable too. Perhaps this why the Cloudspeaks continually failed to reclaim their honor. I know my father was unable to let go of his anger and he - like the others - failed at the most crucial moment when redemption for the tribe was in his grasp. And I have been able to forgive him no more than I could Jorin.

This is the tale of Jorin's betrayal as passed down through the generations of my cursed ancestors.

[Cloudspeak]

Jorin Cloudspeak grabbed the Tauren as she began to rise from the bedding. He pulled the blanket back up and rubbed his muzzle against her neck. She pushed him away and started to rise again only to have Jorin pull her back.

“I have to go.”

“It is still dark,” he complained sleepily.

“Yes. But it will be light soon and I have much to prepare for. So do you.”

“Ah, Lyra,” Jorin said with a chuckle. “It is your fault I am so tired.”

Lyra snorted and slapped him playfully, then stood to pull her wrap if skins and cloth about her. Jorin sighed and rose as well following her to the entrance of his hut. She pulled back the kodo skin covering the entrance and looked about. It was indeed still dark although the fading stars bathed the village in a faint blanket of light. Jorin touched her shoulder and nuzzled her again. She patted his cheek.

“I love you,” Jorin told her.

“And I love you.” She turned and stepped out into the night, dropping the flap behind her.

The morning had been busier than even Jorin had expected. As a member of the war chief’s council and lead advisor to Karn Two-Fires, it was his duty to assist in the preparations for the war chief’s journey. Even though much has been done over the previous weeks, there were still last minute details to work out. He had used his few hours of reprieve to spend with Lyra and exhaustion was upon him.

All the while, here and there, he caught glimpses of Lyra as she walked among the people. Giving reassuring words to worried parents and mates, speaking with kindness to young and old, thank those busy packing the last of the supplies. Jorin was always stunned how amazing she was. Quick witted, lovely and kind to all she met. He found himself wishing he could sneak away with her for a few moments, but he brushed the thought aside. There would be time for that when the work was done. And great work it was.

The Cloudspeaks and Eaglclaws had long ago joined forces to form the Two-Fires Tribe. The Eagleclaws were powerful shaman and warriors, while the Cloudspeaks were skilled hunters. They were also readers of the Sign. The clouds could see much from their great height. Their vision extended beyond the horizon of mortal eyes. While most Cloudspeak bulls could read the sign, it was the women of the tribe who interpreted the reading making sure the reader understood their vision and to ensuring the reading was not clouded by personal feelings.

It was Jorin’s reading which had prompted this expedition. It was a time of relative peace. The Tauren villages were thriving everywhere. The quillboar had not yet become a nuisance and mostly kept to themselves and their own ways. But lately there had been seen a gathering of strange creatures. They ran on four legs with cloven hooves. They had bare torsos, with two upper limbs and bearded faces. Meetings between the Tauren and these new beasts were rare, but always deadly. They were savage and vicious and killed everything they saw with no chance of barter.

Jorin’s reading had caused much concern with the elder Two-Fires. The clouds told the story of these creatures at war with the Tauren, their great numbers flowing unchecked into their lands and killing all Tauren they saw. Warriors, hunters, the old, the young and the sick. They showed no remorse. Just as disturbing to the war chief was the tale of green-skinned warriors entering the lands of the Tauren. The clouds would not reveal their purpose – for good or ill – nor would they tell when this would come about. But Karn was not one to remain idle. He immediately sent emissaries to the largest tribes of the land. Although the abilities of the Cloudspeaks were known among many of the Tauren it would take all the chief’s persuasive power to get the peaceful Tauren to bolster their defenses against an invasion which may or may not happen. But Karn Two-Fires had not become war chief by being a creature of inaction.

Jorin stood on one of the many village rises watching the party disappear over the horizon. He glanced up at the smattering of clouds wondering about the weather, when something caught his attention. His eyes widened and his breath came in gasps as he read their story.

“Are you all right?”

Jorin jumped at the sound of Lyra’s voice behind him. He shook his great shoulders and turned toward her.

“I am fine,’ he said with a hesitant smile.

“I thought perhaps you were making a reading,” she commented with concern. “You don’t look well.”

“It’s nothing,” he assured her. “You know how it can be. Sometimes you think you see something, but really do not.” I am just tired, he told himself. “Will I see you tonight?

“No. But do not fear,” she said placating him and his look of disappointment. “I will make it up to you tomorrow.” With that she turned to go.

He watched her walk away for a moment before turning back to the sky. He shook his head. No, such a thing was not possible. There were no creatures of such he had read for many weeks travel form here. With a great sigh he turned from the horizon and walked back to the village.

[Cloudspeak]

Karn Two-Fires was nervous. A feeling the shaman had rarely encountered. It was nearing dark, but instead of making camp for the evening, he was detailing more scouts to locate those who had not reported back at the appointed time. He was about to order a halt and the building of a defensive camp when yelling and sounds of battle began filtering down the line. Karn stood up in the stirrups of his kodo trying to see. What he saw terrified him. Hundreds of the cloven-hoofed beasts came running over the rise crashing into the small expedition’s half-formed lines.

Two-Fires called upon his warriors to form defensive lines, but there were very few left. Many shaman had fallen in the initial attack and the few left were exhausting themselves keep their remaining tribesmen alive. He dropped his own weapon as a spear pierced his lung. He broke it off at the shaft and shoved its splintered end into the throat of his attacker. The Two-Fire tribe fought well, their small band slaughtered five times their number, but there were too many. As Karn lie dying on the bloody ground watching his people fall around him, his vision blurred. But he was not dying yet. Karn Two-Fires of the Eagleclaw Tribe was not only a powerful shaman, but a seer in his own right. Occasionally he was visited by vision of the past. Seeing what had gone before and learning from the mistakes of his forebears.

As he lay dying he could see his friend and advisor, Jorin Cloudspeak, speaking on the hill to his mate, Lyra. He could not hear their words, but he could see the affection in their eyes. He saw the reading Jorin made as the war chief’s party crossed over the hill. The reading of the attack on the Karn’s party. He saw the two – Jorin and Lyra – rutting in the reader’s tent the night before the expedition was to leave. A night Karn had spent seeing to the final details of the venture.

Karn struggled to hit feet. Lifting an axe near him, he ignored his pain and began to cleave his way through the enemy’s ranks. Fueled by anger unlike any he had ever known, he seemed a being possessed. He opened a hole through the lines and screamed at his remaining tribesmen to flee. They hesitated, unwilling to leave their chief, but he screamed at them again and they ran. Their fear of him and his anger was as greater than that of their foes.

Several spears struck Karn as he bellowed his curse upon Jorin. So great was his anger, it struck all the Cloudspeaks. Back in the village many paused in shock as the Cloudspeak bulls cried out in terror, holding their hands to their eyes while falling to their knees. When the pain subsided and they pulled their hands away from their faces, they found their eyes covered in a milky film. And while they could see clearly, they were suddenly struck illiterate when it came to reading the sign. He cursed them with blindness to the sign, to be won back only through unwavering deeds of retribution and honor. He also cursed their hearts to falter when redemption was near. When restoration of honor reached its pivotal moment, when they could see it and feel it, they would fail at the crucial moment.

It wasn’t until later when the survivor’s returned to the village, the reason for the sudden blindness to the future was revealed. Although they could not repeat the words of the war chief’s curse, it was obvious Jorin was the target of Karn’s venom and spite. Soon the Two-Fires Tribe was split. Many on both sides had suspected there was more than friendship between the reader and the war chief’s mate. Now suspicion and turned to anger and the Eagleclaw’s called for Jorin head. The Cloudspeaks could not give up their leader so easily, no matter the reasons. Soon open war upon the two tribes. Although the Cloudspeaks had suffered the worst of the battle, both tribes were decimated.

The Cloudspeaks retreated into the high mesas where they lived in shame and dishonor, even though they exiled Jorin from the tribe for his treachery. There they have strived for generations to restore the honor stolen from them by Jorin’s deceit and Karn’s anger.

The Eagleclaws tried to rebuild their life in the village. But their depleted ranks and inept leadership lead to their defeat against the invading centaurs. They were wiped from all existence except for memory.