Hunter Generations (Original)

So it was that you set out with two of your cousins in two. Both younger than you, although you're only eighteen yourself. Niitra is only sixteen, Asahlin is fourteen. They'll prove able assistants for now and, within a couple of years, may even be able to actually join you. With any luck. They're mostly coming along in case you happen to die on your first hunt. It would be a shame for wherever you end up to be without a Hunter.

The path to the ocean from Citadel is a long one. Plenty of time for introspection; interspersed with moments of fear when you see wild Beasts in the distance. They don't particularly mind you, though. Anything smaller than a village is generally beyond the notice of the mid-sized creatures, and upwards. All eyes are peeled for Runners; the most dangerous kind of Beast for travellers to encounter.

It seems a curiosity of your world that animals only really come in two scales. There are the pack-animals and riding-creatures that you frequently utilize; sized in a way men can deal with and comprehend. They're universally plant-eaters. Docile, not particularly bright, and possessed of flesh as toxic as the plants on which they dine.

Then there are the Beasts themselves. Citadel's smallest Runner on record, the lightest and most agile breed around, was still so large that its skull was difficult to get through the gate. Even now, on the cusp of adulthood, you're still not as tall as its largest fang.

The smaller the Beast the more of a direct threat it poses. Those ones are better at noticing when a Hunter has boarded them. They tend to be more active in their assault on your kind. Runners are the most frequent cause of a settlement being abandoned or destroyed; once the people have split up and fled the creature tends to lose interest. Nobody understands why this is; it is simply a known fact.

These things bother Hunters still, however. Others have a comprehension of the Beasts as being no different than the animals they tame and keep in their home. Merely larger, more incidentally destructive. You know this is not so. Beasts are not nearly so stupid as that. Their intellect cannot be compared to a man, of course, and yet...

Such thoughts are banished from your head. Your days of wondering will not continue. The journey from the coastal city you're heading towards will take some time. Ships that try to cross the sea are fairly rare, and few return. Those that do generally turned back once their supplies were half-depleted and never saw land.

Your father was sad to see you go, of course, but everyone knew it was coming. He gave you a fine set of well-fitted leathers. They move and stretch well, the Runner-hide showing its worth, and are strong enough to protect you from incidental scrapes and cuts. The lesser parasites found upon the backs of your prey might still prove harmful, but Hunters will always favour agility over protection.

Of course your dear Aunt, fierce as ever, made sure you had a sturdy set of climbing gear. You double-check your gauntlets again. They're more stiff than the leathers. Burrower skin with clawed tips. Good for gripping, and climbing where there are no handholds. Your boots are the same; spiked on both front and back. Care must be taken not to get caught, but they're instrumental for scaling the side of a massive tower of flesh.

Finally, your Uncle outfitted you with all the incidentals. Pack with Leaper-gut rope, and lots of it. Plenty of sharp little daggers and hooks made from the limbs of parasites. Your supply of cured meat and dried fungi for the trip. But, most of all, your weapons.

There were almost as many different types as there were individual Hunters. Some Hunters, particularly the Plainsmen, prefer long straight blades. As good for stabbing into the sensitive spots of a Beast as they were for warding off the blighted things hanging to its backside. Mountaineers tend to take a supply of barb-tipped javelins. They build up their muscles enough to turn their weapons into secure holds for dealing with the more precarious creatures they face.

Coastal Hunters are an esoteric lot. Harpoons are common, especially for the diving creatures, but also hook-tipped knives for hauling oneself down an undulating mass of meat as fast as possible before it hits a depth that causes your skull to pop like grape. Those that hunt across the deserts like picks and hammers. Preferably both together so they can breach the tough hide or scales of a Beast and then tear into its soft points.

In short, there's a plethora of potential options. Your Uncle chose to load up your wagon with one of everything and then some. Most quite well-used, admittedly, but still. He'd probably call them 'trustworthy', or 'reliable' instead. Still, it was generous of him.

Your journey passes without incident. There were a few Beasts seen off in the distance, but none ever came close enough to threaten the caravan. Much to your relief. Fighting one without proper preparation, on an open plain, is tantamount to suicide. Your timing of arrival at the village is fortuitous as well.

There's a massive creature laid out across the tide markings. A huge furrow dug out along the silt flats and into the ocean indicates where the Hunter responsible for taking it down drove it in towards land. He'll have gotten up on to the head and forced it around until it beached itself, then killed it. The entire town is hard at work butchering the carcass.

It's very impressive. Practically nothing is wasted. Meat is sliced out at great speed and passed down the line to the huge vats of preservative oils that are used to help cure it. You watch their technique with great interest. Getting the flesh out is the first priority; a creature that size will feed the village for a good three years if they can get enough food cured and stored fast enough.

Beasts take a good few weeks to start rotting properly, so they have time. Even so; they'll work around the clock. Your escorts get stuck in as soon as all of your things are loaded on to the ship for your voyage right alongside the townsfolk and your crew. As soon as the locals get a look at you and your partners and realize what you are they send you down to the problem area.

You spend the next week working alongside the local Hunter clearing out the creature's stomach. He's obviously a seasoned veteran; standing a good head and a half over you with a half a dozen fine scars from his exploits. His son, much younger even than you, works alongside him. Even without having reached his majority yet he's still as strong as any man in the village.

Hunter blood breeds true. Always has. Nobody else would be crazy enough to go after the Beasts. More than that; nobody else could do so successfully. Your reach and strength are what allow you to bring the things down. Although, for the time being, they're being spent on the parasites inside the thing's stomach.

All Beasts tend to possess some form of hanger-on that inevitably cause various issues in hunting them. Runners are the best, as theirs are mostly insect-like things the size of a head that suckle on the blood of their host and die quickly without that food. Fortresses are the worst; some of their parasites can be close to Beasts in their own right.

Swimmers parasites are almost unique in that they're more dangerous after the creature is dead. They live inside its various stomachs and seem to feed off whatever the Beast consumes. Whenever one of the cavernous expanses is pierced you Hunters are called to the area to kill the things inside. Once they're dead you set to tearing them apart for their own valuable resources until the next one is located.

Finally, some three weeks after your arrival, the frenzy of dissection dies down. You've barely rested in that time. Everyone pulls their weight when a Beast is brought down, and then some. You sleep in shifts, work in shifts, and don't get to rest until the decay starts to set in. At that point it becomes a matter of securing the bones with ties and working together to haul the much-lighter carcass out with the high tide.

The water will slough away the remainder of the rotting meat and then the bones will be dragged back in for use. In the end your estimate was about right. Three annual storehouses were filled with cured meat; giving them four years worth of food total. A respectable amount. That gives the Hunter some time to bring his son up to speed. Perhaps they'll have two proper Hunters working together on the next one.

You're thanked for your help with some of the supplies. It'll certainly help with the trip. Now that the Beast has been taken apart you can also get a good look at your ship. Until now you'd barely had time to eat a quick meal, scrub yourself clean and then sleep.

Saying it's the largest ship you've ever seen would be a waste of breath. After all, the only ships you've ever seen are in this village. Still, as compared to the rest of the ships that the village has available it's certainly equivalent to a Beast of sea-going vessels. To your amusement that assessment is even more accurate than you thought.

The frame is Flyer-bone; light but incredibly tough and fairly pliable as well. Leaper-hide is stretched across that around the outside to make the hull itself. Their skin is some of the best for that purpose, even when cured, because of how much it needs to stretch around their massive muscles. More importantly, though, are the carefully attached Swimmer scales along the underside and even up above the waterline.

They're very, very tough and move through the water quite well. The speed of the vessel should be top-notch, despite its size, and the heavy sails confirm that. You might even be able to outrun a few Beasts with a good prevailing wind. Of course, you'll be at the mercy of the weather to a certain degree.

In order for the expedition to make it as far as possible the Captain has decided to make a ship that takes as few people to crew it as possible. Even when not actively training you still eat enough for five fully grown adults with your companions needing only slightly less. So, really, it's all meant to accommodate the three of you. With yourselves, the Captain and his crew there will only be sixteen people aboard; although, obviously, that counts as twenty-five as far as supplies are concerned.

Still, he's rather proud of himself as he shows you the tools for straining salt-water into fresh-water and gathering dew and so on. Not needing to carry as much fresh water will certainly help. Then most of the cargo is the food. The furthest any ship before has managed to go out is three months; then they turned back because half their food had run out.

That won't happen this time. You're bringing nearly enough for nearly a year's travel, and won't be turning back. Recouping your supplies won't be very easy but it may be possible if you can attract some smaller Beasts and take them down... without sinking the ship.

You leave the coastal settlement at first light on the fourteenth day of the seventh month and set out for parts unknown. The journey will be long and harsh. It's entirely possible you may not survive. But, if you do, then you'll create a proud new legacy for your family.

Spoiler: Voting Options

Vote for; Gender, Name, Best Trait and, optionally, Worst Trait

As far as Hunters are concerned, both genders are just as good as each other; but men are generally preferred simply because they can breed and hunt at the same time.

Male Hunters start their name with a consonant sound and end with a vowel sound.
Female Hunters are the reverse.

The Traits are; Feet, Guts, Hands, Brain and Face.

Feet: Moving your body, kicking shit.
Guts: Toughness, breathing, general health.
Hands: Fine dexterity and stabbing things.
Brains: Think good. Remember and observe.
Face: Charm, communicate, intimidate and teach.

If you pick a Worst trait then one of the other four traits at random will get an extra boost. It's probably super tempting to dump-stat Face.

Voting is resolved as follows; Most desired gender wins. Then most desired name wins. Most desired Best Trait wins. Then, if half or more of you voted to have a Worst Trait the most desired one wins.

[X] Savaro
[X] Male
[X] Best Trait: Brains

 

Life on the ship is dull for you. Apart from training, and light sparring with your cousins, there's not a lot to do. You end up spending much time in the Captain's cabin and speaking to him about your self. It seems he's a veteran sailor, pushing twenty years now, and, as such, hasn't had a lot of experience with your kind. The two of you share a few drinks of an evening as you tell him of your history.

Your Mother was Anathis the Winged, sister to your Aunt Utenin Crawhand, and your father was Kyrthi Hammer-Breaker, brother to your Uncle Khirre the Coated. You were born to them eighteen seasons ago after your mother lost most of her right leg to a Runner. She couldn't hunt any more but she could certainly breed and bore many children to your Father and your Uncle over the next few years as her sister forwent having children to focus on the Hunt. With the help of some excellent metalworking she was even able to walk again.

Unfortunately, she died to a small Runner some four years back. Your Father, Uncle and Aunt had all gone out together to tackle a juvenile Fortress that had settled in the rolling hills to the North-East before it grew large enough to be able to threaten the Eastern Tradeways. As the most senior Hunter she'd taken up the task with one of your cousins and older brothers.

You do not need to complete the story for him to understand. Rather, he offers his consolation; which you're happy to accept. Apart from the pleasant company, however, it's a fairly dull time. Up until the inevitable occurs. It's a month into the journey by this point and you've not seen land for three and a half weeks now. Supplies continue to hold even if water could still be a concern in the future.

When the lookout calls you awaken instantly. Hunters are well-trained in the art of waking and sleeping quickly. You can drop into slumber within minutes of laying down and awaken just as rapidly to the slightest unusual disturbance. This is definitely one of those times. A man calling out that he's sighted something. He sounds panicked.

After a brief moment to sigh heavily you slide out of bed and fumble around until you can pull the curtain. Back in bed Captain Jastor grumbles and rolls over in an effort to get the light to go away. You chuckle and head over to shake him awake. It's barely light, anyhow, and he'll probably be needed.

You've already managed to dress yourself by the time he's stumbled out of bed and pulled on some pants. Although he is doing his best to hurry now he's heard the cries of alarm as well. You slip out through the door and effortlessly scale the mast to haul yourself up into the lookout's post on the top. He looks quite startled that you didn't use the ladder.

There, on the horizon, is a dark shape sifting across the water. In terms of size it's not a small one. A mid-sized Runner equivalent, certainly. What's concerning is how it moves. In terms of locomotion it isn't below the water. Rather, it moves on top of it. You can make out some eight long, spindly legs delicately touching the surface as the thing races back and forth; moving in zig-zag patterns.

The body is long and segmented. Likely to possess many eyes. You can't make out the jaw from here but you're imagining a long, pointed beak type instrument. For snatching prey from the just under the surface water, perhaps. Or for punching holes in hulls. Either its eyesight is highly directional or it hasn't seen you yet.

Considering the timing of it then it's barely dawn. It moves quite quickly, just as fast as your ship with its massive sails, but is a decent distance off. You might still be able to outrun it before it gets too light. Otherwise... this could be a problem. At that size it could definitely scuttle your ship if it got too close. So the best thing to do would be...

[X] Turn at a right angle to it, and avoid confrontation.
[X] Plan your engagement and prepare to attack.

 

The ship turns and moves towards the Beast in the distance as you eye the line of its body. You begin to get a better idea of its makeup as you get closer. For as much as you can see the legs are probably the weakest point. Or the strongest. With creatures such as this it's hard to say.

It's a Runner variant of some sort. Must have a light body; perhaps air bladders similar to a Floater? Reducing overall weight to enable it to... to skim across the surface of the water. Skimmer will do for now. If you see any more you can start properly figuring out precisely how to define this new type.

The overall motion takes it in a side-to-side pattern following the rolling of the waves. Every now and then it dips its maw beneath the surface but you don't see it bring anything up. Excluding their devouring of humans nobody has really seen a Beast actually 'eat' as such.

Finally you spot your opening. Eyes. Or, rather, lack thereof. Whether that's usual or not you can't say; most likely it has other sense of some sort. The dipping may be how it perceives the world? Some sort of sound propagating underwater or, perhaps, a scenting mechanism.

Best choice would be a light canoe. As little touching the surface of the water as possible. You eye the lines of the body and try to take estimates of the size. Seabirds and ripples and the waves allow you go gauge a decent estimate. As large as your ship... no, much larger. The same waves that come halfway up to the deck of your craft, the most massive vessel ever built by the hands of men, do not even reach the first joint of its many-segmented legs. It is small for a Beast.

Air bladders, then. You can think of a few choices here. Likely it will be weaker in the joints of the body and you may be able to get some damage done with a spear or hookblade. If you pry one up the flesh underneath will be soft. Assaulting one of the limbs where it joins with the body may be your best choice. It is difficult to say.

The biggest concern for you is the strangeness here. This Beast has yet to take notice of your craft. Their senses are not so poor; Runners, which this creature seems related to, are aggressive and territorial. Ah, of course. The water is not land. This much is obvious, but it cannot claim territory in the same way. Perhaps it will attack if you get too close, perhaps not.

Cousin Asahlin has already laid out a selection of tools for you. There is a long, thin-bladed bonesword that looks serviceable; you strap it to your back along with a selection of hooked knives for climbing and a bag containing a ten-section spear with mallet. If the thing does not notice you upon its back then you may be able to get up near the nape and begin to assemble and hammer the tool in. Mostly they're good for Fortresses; so you have little practice with it.

After some thought a throwing hook goes in as well; you make sure to rope it properly and Niitra helps you secure it to the harness in the proper method. Captain Jastor would prefer if you did not do this thing; you cannot oblige him, even with a pout as cute as that. This will be your first Hunt alone, and potential to learn something new if you are forced to return.

The ship passes through the path of the creature well before it reaches it and releases you in a small leather boat. You lay on your stomach, motionless, as your ride home slinks away and your tiny craft bobs in the water. Now all that remains is the kill.

This Hunt will take place in three stages; you must first get on to the creature. That will be difficult in its own right. Once you have done so you must then find a weak point on top of it; or a weaker point, at least. When such a place is identified you must finish the beast off; at least you have options for this.

Spoiler: Hunting

When engaging in a Hunt you must figure out the best combination of tools and talents to use in order to bring down your quarry. Hunts occur in a number of phases based on the difficulty of the creature and each phase will require a minimum of two ability tests.

Failing a test may damage the ability used for it which may make your plan later harder; however, changing a plan in the middle of a hunt is equally disastrous and, as such, will only occur if an ability is rendered completely unusable by repeat failures.

Using an ability will place temporary strain on it; however, this will not affect performance as long as the ability is not used consecutively.

Generic tools enable a Hunter to do their job, and are considered functionally impossible to damage; even if a specific item is lost or damaged a Hunter is very capable of adapting. Specific tools may be designated for use during a particular phase to improve the chance of success but using them will run the risk of breaking them.

Coming up with a unique application of an ability will grant bonuses.

The winning plan will be for all phases; not individual phases.

First Phase:
[X] {Brains + Hands} Continue to adjust your path to match the Beasts and then grapple its body.
[X] {Feet + Guts} As the creature passes, swim out to it and grab hold of one of its legs from below.
[X] {Feet + Hands} Paddle rapidly towards the Beast and attempt to grapple it as soon as it gets within range.
[X] {Brains + Guts} Attract the creature closer and then seize hold of it when it wrecks your canoe.

Second Phase:
[X] {Brains + Hands} Identify the most likely weak point and carefully climb to it.
[X] {Guts + Hands} Hang from the Beast's underside and look for a soft spot.
[X] {Feet + Hands} Conduct a thorough survey of the creature's body to find the best point of attack.
[X] {Brains + Guts} Allow yourself to be swallowed.

Third Phase:
[X] {Brains + Hands} Use the ten-section spear to penetrate a critical point.
[X] {Feet + Guts} Irritate the creature's body and allow it to damage itself in retaliation.
[X] {Hands + Guts} Hold on for dear life and then just start stabbing.
[X] {Brains + Feet} Attempt to hit multiple critical points in rapid succession.

 

You've been closer to larger Beasts in the past. Even so, the reality of having this creature pass nearby is... staggering. This is the first time that the life or death of the target, and other people besides, is relying solely on you. Still. You push off from your vessel and hit the water smoothly; there's barely any ripples as you slip under.

Swimming wasn't a skill you had great practice at due to the simple reality of Citadel not being on a lake or coast. There was a watering hole, however, and so your Uncle Khirre ensured you had at least the capacity to propel yourself through the water. It comes very naturally to you, as do all things physical, and you glide through the ocean toward your prey.

Behind you there's a rupture in the surface of the sea as a long, spindly limb smashes your craft into tiny chunks. Whether it detected the small boat itself or your exit from it you cannot say. Turning around underwater you look up and consider the thing above you. Your eyes sting a little from the salt but you pay it little heed; focusing on counting heartbeats.

With this level of exertion you can remain underwater for perhaps another two thousand heartbeats, maybe even half again that much; there is no rush whatsoever. So you wait for one of the limbs to come nearby and then relax; allowing yourself to float up toward it. The legs split into multiple points that delicately rest on top of the water; there is no way this thing can support its mass with that alone. You have seen tiny insects operate upon the same principles, of course, but the sheer size of this thing...

Still. Your hands gently grasp the limb and you feel yourself jerked away; it hasn't noticed you yet, but is merely moving its limbs in a natural fashion. The force is tremendous but your grip is strong and you're taken along with it. You could not tell how it moved before; but it seems to propel itself forward lightly and almost glide the distance; barely touching the surface until it comes to rest. That confirms your suspicions, to your mind; internal gas bladders must be present.

You grip the limb carefully and pull yourself slowly out of the water; your arms straining slightly as you spin yourself up and over until you can properly straddle the limb. Now you are officially upon it. The easiest part of the hunt is complete. Still, you must hurry.

After a moment to regulate your breathing you begin to climb. The chitinous surface of the limb is smooth, firm and damp from the ocean spray. There are no handholds. Your legs dangle uselessly for a few moments as you haul yourself upwards one arm length at a time. At first you attempt to brace with your feet but even your remarkably dexterous toes can't gain purchase; instead you wrap them around and attempt to use the leverage thereof to improve your pace.

Thankfully the thick carapace means it cannot feel you working your way up its limbs. When you reach the spot whereby the legs meet with the body you take a few moments to examine the joint. It's too tough for you to affect without a heavy pick-hammer combo. Sighing, you move up to the top.

Still good so far. So long as you watch your step up here it'll take a while more for it to realize that you're there. That won't help with finding a proper weak-point, though. Now that you're on the back of the Beast it's quite plain to see that it's much more vast than your vessel was.

In your head you run over the likely points. The joins of the limbs to the body have been ruled out. TIme to find out if it has any sensory apparatus. You move on all fours along the top of the body, carefully supporting your weight. It's softer up here. If you put too much weight down it'll be able to feel you.

After some time you find yourself nearer the neck. This is good. It's softer here. You'll have more difficulty... with... ah. A familiar tremor runs along the length of the beast as it lifts itself up. You immediately whip out your two hooked knives and dig them into the flesh as deep as you can.

It leaps. The speed is intense, as is the rushing of wind threatening to haul you off the back. In the space of a few seconds it glides forward maybe a thousand paces in a single motion. The main downside to all of this is that it quite definitely knows you are here. It twists and writhes in ways that let you know that such is definitely the case.

Time to move then. This is when things will start to get hairy. You begin your sprint up along the neck of the Beast as it rears up and tries to twist. The spikes in the tips of your boots dig into the flesh as your flat plane rapidly becomes a vertical wall of flesh that your clawed gloves dig into. Your hooked daggers come out again and you spread your arms as wide as you can to dig in.

It's lucky that your pattern-recognition skills are just as valid here as they were at home. The Skimmer slams its back into the water with incredible force; you feel a rib crack. Oh well; you have twenty-seven more yet. The sharp pain is easily shoved aside. Your heart is pumping hard, every beat resonating in your ears.

As soon as it rolls back over you yank your daggers out and begin moving again. Now it is laying on its stomach and attempting to swipe you off its back with sweeping scraps. You take care to gouge as much flesh as you can with your steps and every time you do a spindly limb comes swinging up and over in an attempt to strike you.

Caution causes you to dodge out of the way a little early, but your strength carries you clear of each hit. The thing attempts to check its strikes, apparently not quite bright enough to realize it would hurt itself in the first place, but nevertheless gouges out bloody tracks in its own back.

Shortly you find yourself near the head; having left a path of gore behind you. You finally have a good look at the thing's head now. There is a beak, you were right about that, and no eyes. The aggravation you've caused it is quite real, however, and it's unwilling to let you escape.

It strikes itself directly in the face in its attempt to get at you. Really, for as effective as it is, this method is not fast. The Beast rocks in place as its remaining limbs quiver and before long, give out. You briefly hang in the air for a few moments as it drops suddenly drops out from under you but, quite shortly, stick a proper three-point landing.

Seems that it's stunned. You draw your bone blade and start jabbing sensitive spots; feeling the quivering under your feet as you do so. This technique was taught to you by your father. Pain transitions instantly through a body, or close enough that a person cannot tell. With a Beast of this size, however, a skilled Hunter can. You move the length of the body and count out the timing compared to your heart.

It takes a few moments, which is quite nerve-wracking as you need to work quickly, but you start to detect differences of about a heartbeat for every few paces you take. You need to repeat the process at another angle once you've found the rough midpoint, just in case.

You're glad you did; the brain is off-centre by half a body length. A quick stab as deep as your bone blade can go and a quick count tells you that you're still some... right now... seven heartbeats above it. Just out of reach of your blade. Thankfully, you brought the sectioned spear. That's pretty easy to work with. Screw together four sections and drive it into the stabbity-hole, then use your hammer to knock it down to knee-height.

The Beast begins to buck violently once the third section has vanished below the flesh. You screw the fifth into place and then grasp it tightly and start sort of... swirling it around. It's imprecise, certainly, but the Beast spasms for about another minute as you grasp tightly until it finally twitches its last twitch and drops fully flat again.

Dead.

It's dead.

You killed a Beast. On your own.

Heh. Hehehe. Hahahahahaha! You killed a Beast! More than that, a kind your family has never seen! Fantastic! Excellent! Ah, you feel so... good. The rush of combat starts to leave you and exhaustion begins to set in, but you are able to extract a large green cloth from your bag and wave it back and forth. Your cousins wave back one in return to indicate they've seen you.

Good. Very good. You flop down on the back of the carcass and look yourself over. A gentle press confirms that, yes, at least one rib is cracked. There's a number of scratches along your back as well... geez, those were some closer shaves than you though. Plus your skin feels raw from all the dragging through air and water it got up to. Still, you came off quite lightly. No parasites to fight, and no direct hits.

By the time the ship pulls up beside the body you've already cut into your chest with a clean knife and carefully set the rib. Can't have it healing crooked. Your cousins are first off the boat; leaping the dozen paces or so from the vessel to the corpse from the rigging. They're happy to congratulate you for your success. It must have been quite a show for them.

The ship is attached to the Beast with hooks on pikes that connect to the side of the vessel, and planks laid to make a path. It ought to float for some time yet. The sails are lowered and you all get to work. Well, almost all. Even if you could harvest all of it there isn't nearly enough room belowdecks for it. So, as the actual Hunter for this one, you get to take a breather.

Most of a breather. As they cut into the side, passing chunks of meat to the barrels of curing solutions that have been laid out on deck, a cavity is opened up. First there's a rush of foul air and then a rush of flesh as some horrific thing leaps out. It knocks down Niitra, sidesteps Asahlin, tears a nasty gash across the Captain's chest and then your hands are around its neck.

You obtain a few more scratches in the process of crushing it's windpipe, but are far more concerned with cleaning out Jastor's wound afterwards. He makes a token protest about continuing to help until you quite calmly pick him up, carry him into his cabin and dump him on his bed.

From that point on both you and your cousins carry actual weapons and stand aside in readiness for any further parasites. Thankfully, all the empty barrels you have are packed up with meat before you breach any other stomachs. You gather some of the contents of the stomach as well. That has to be done a bit more carefully, as it's unpleasantly caustic, but when properly distilled and mixed it will be useful for a number of purposes.

There's also a nice bounty of bone and chitin; one of the legs is fully levered out of the socket and your cousins put in the effort needed of hacksawing it into manageable chunks. Plus the body of that parasite as well. Finally, as is right and proper, you remove the beaked head and carefully secure it to the back of the ship. Fish and other marine creatures will pick the flesh off and leave the skull behind.

You'll decide what to do with all of it during the rest of the journey.

For the bone... {Five units}
[X] Craft some items {Hands}

[X] Weapons (1-5)
[X] Climbing tools (1-5)
[X] Protection (1-5)
[X] Story sticks (1-5)
[X] Other tools? (1-5)​

[X] Gift some to the crew (1-5) {Face}
[X] Gift some to the Captain (1-5) {Face}
[X] Leave some to your cousins (1-5)

For the chitin... {Ten units}
[X] Craft some items {Hands}

[X] Weapons (1-10)
[X] Climbing tools (1-10)
[X] Protection (1-10)
[X] Story sticks (1-10)
[X] Other tools? (1-10)​

[X] Gift some to the crew (1-10) {Face}
[X] Gift some to the Captain (1-10) {Face}
[X] Leave some to your cousins (1-10)

For the stomach juice... {Six units}
[X] Mix something {Brains}

[X] Healing salve (1-6)
[X] Light salve {1-6}
[X] Burning salve {1-6}
[X] Preserving salve {1-6}​

[X] Gift some to the crew (1-6) {Face}
[X] Gift some to the Captain (1-6) {Face}
[X] Leave some to your cousins (1-6)

For the skull...
[X] Keep it as a trophy {+Face Sub-skill - Glory}
[X] Give it to the Captain {+Bond}

Voting is now open