Help me brainstorm my custom chapter

[space wolf]

So since I have some significant down time, I thought I would work on this chapter fluff a bit. Below is how the Void Panthers recruit new aspirants. Additionally, this is where they complete the first spoke in the Wheel of Pain.

 

 

The Great Hunt: Held every years the Great Hunt is a festival celebrated across all Tuganda. The festival has a wide variety of rituals depending on which community is celebrating. However, in all communities the Great Hunt culminates in one simple rite. Those young hunters who seek to become one of the “Chosen,” the “Warriors Supreme,” of Hemperator, will travel to the great mountain located near the geographic center of Tuganda. Traveling alone, they must find along the way a trophy worthy of their skill as hunters. Once they reach the mountain, they must scale its heights to the offering site, with their trophies. A difficult climb without carrying the dead weight of an animal, once at the top they will present their trophies. If the Hemperator is pleased with their offering, it is said they will be whisked into the sky to become one of the “Chosen,” never to be heard from by their families, again.

 

It is known by the people of Primordus that only offerings showing the youth's skill and valor have a chance of being accepted. Pelts of Tugandan Panthers are known to be prized most of all, as to hunt the hunter, requires the highest of skill, if one is to survive. Other offerings such as mail and weapons of steel won through battle, and Terrorbird feathers are thought to be of value to Hemperator as well. Even so, showing up with these trophies is no guarantee of acceptance. Most die in the endeavor, while a handful of others, return home with tales of a terrifying masked warrior, who insulted by the meagerness of their offering, rejected them, and “cast them off the mountain.”

 

Tars' breath came in deep gulps as he pitched himself over the side of the cliff face he had been climbing for the better part of 3 hours. As he lay there at the top gasping for air, he pulled on the rope that was dangling around his waist. At the end of the rope was a tied package, covered in waxed linen, that he dragged up hand over hand. Once he had the package in hand, he stood up and surveyed his surroundings. The bare rock of the ledge gently sloped upwards into a crested hill. With a quick breath, Tars loped up to the crest of the hill, and noticed that the peak of the mountain was actually a perfect half sphere depression. The rock was unnaturally smooth, like volcanic glass, and the depressions was approximately fifty meters in diameter. As he looked into the depression, he could see several alters arrayed in a circle surrounding a raised platform. On that platform sat a lone figure. Tars noticed several staircases carved into the rock leading down from the sides of the bowl to the center of the depression, which was, in turn, covered in pure white sand. Walking along the edge to the nearest staircase, Tars began to descend.

 

As he was doing so, he noticed three other figures, all young men like himself, at three of the other alters. As Tars' foot touched the last of the steps, he loped towards the nearest alter, untied his package and placed a thick blue black pelt on the alter. As was tradition, Tars spoke, “I have hunted and won my trophy. I have braved the mountain, with my trophy intact. Great one, I dedicate this trophy to you, in the hopes of being one of Hemperator's Chosen. I await the final challenge.” As Tars finished the words of the ritual, he took a good hard look at the figure on the dais.

 

He was seated crossed legged, on a large dark skin, very similar to the one Tars brought. The man was a giant, with corded muscle bulging as if it was about to tear out of his skin. He was bare to the waist with a thick leather girdle topping his hide breeches and his left hand was covered in steel gauntlet. Curious metal like discs were embedded in his flesh at regular intervals in his chest and arms and neck. The Warrior wore a pelt covering the top half of his face, head, and back of this neck. The pelt was of the face and head of one of the great panthers. Its eyes had been removed and their place Tars could just see the whites of the Warrior's eyes peaking through. The mask ended just beneath his nose, where the jagged teeth of the panther pointed down to the permanent scowl that was painted on his unreadable face. It was clear to Tars by the expression on the other youths' faces, that the warrior had sat motionless, as they completed their ritual, as he had with Tars. Now they were all just waiting for something to happen—and at last something did. The Warrior spoke.

 

“You have traveled a great distance to come here. You have scaled the jagged crags of T'Chara, to bring me an offering of your bravery and skill. Very well, your offerings are accepted. But take heed, I am watching you. Every action you take, every word that you speak, will bring you credit or disgrace. I can see inside the hearts of men. Every emotion you feel, every pain in your bodies you endure...I know them. You have been warned. I have but one question to ask of each of you, and your answers will prove your worthiness. I will approach each of you, and you will whisper the answer to my riddle. As with all great mysteries, the one true answer should not be known to those who have not earned the wisdom to know it.”

 

Tars' eyes widened as the hulking warrior, stood. He was even larger than expected, a true giant, standing close to double his height. Tars watched as the warrior approached the first alter on the right. The warrior paused as he looked at what was offered, it was a headdress of large greenish feathers. He picked up the headdress and examined it. The young hunter offering the headdress, gulped visibly, this close to the inhumanly large warrior. The young hunter was smaller than than the rest. Clearly, the Spring of Youth had not fully bloomed, even though he had reached the Age of Trial. The warrior, towering over the hunter, asked in a booming voice. “What is the Riddle of Steel? I would have your answer.” The warrior knelt on one knee, as an adult would, to hear a secret from a small child. The hunter leaned in close and whispered his answer, and the warrior nodded and stood. “When you awake, get off my mountain.” Faster than Tars could see, the warrior backhanded the young hunter into the sand. The hunter was unconscious.

 

The warrior then stalked to the next alter in dangerously powerful yet graceful strides, and gazed down at the next offering. It was five mailed hauberks. The hunter who offered these was covered in battle scars, clearly a young but very fine warrior. The giant moved the chain shirts around with the tip of his index finger, lifting them up, flipping them over; discovering the various holes in them. Clearly a sign of what happened to their last wearers. “Before you give me your answer, I demand another,” boomed the giant. With a small amount of awe in his voice the pelted warrior asked, “Did you single-handedly slay all the warriors who wore these?” Encouraged, the hunter nodded in the affirmative. The giant replied, “very well....liar!” and he punched the hunter so hard in the chest that he flew backwards thirty paces and collided with the interior edge of the bowl. The hunter crumpled over, with his chest caved in, clearly dead. The warrior turned towards the remaining aspirants. “To be a great hunter one must possess cunning, and deception is a part of that. However, in the hunt, as in battle, if a deception fails, the deceiver often pays with their life. I have no time for someone who is too stupid to understand when to rely on cunning, and when not to. I see inside your hearts, lies will avail you nothing!”

 

He then approached the next offering. It was a Rhinodox hide and horn. Standing behind it was a youth sporting a black warrior's mohawk with a shock of red through the center. The warrior spoke, “I would have your answer,” as he knelt. The youth answered, and the warrior stood. “OH SO!” bellowed the warrior with mirth. “If you are right, tell it to my gauntlet.” The youth was doubled over and vomited, as the warrior swatted at the youth's midsection with his gauntleted fist. The warrior looked as though he was doing nothing more than batting away cobwebs. “Begone. If flesh were stronger than steel, you wouldn't be in pain!” the warrior exclaimed. Slowly the young man collected himself and started hobbling towards the nearest staircase.

 

Tars tried to still the racing of his heart as the Warrior approached his alter. The giant didn't even seem to care about the T'ugandan Panther pelt, that Tars had almost died to acquire. “I would have your answer.” The Warrior boomed as he knelt close to Tars. Tars, staring into the almost inhuman grey eyes of the Warrior, swallowed, and whispered. “I do not know.” Before, he could even inhale another breath, Tars felt a vice grip around his throat as he was lifted off his feet. He was caught in the clutch of the Warrior's massive fist. The Warrior stood holding Tars out outstretched as if he was doing nothing more than examining a doll. The muscles in Tars' neck strained from the exertion, the fight to get any air a pure agony.

 

“You don't know!?” exclaimed the Warrior. “You dare to come here without an answer! I can see the fear in you boy, coward!” Clawing at his throat, Tars fought down the panic rising in his chest, as he heard the Warrior dishonor him. Urgency was upon him, but the fear was being burned away, burned away by hot searing defiance. Tars let go of the Warrior's wrist with one hand and reached down for his knife. With all the force he could muster, he drove the knife point deep into the giant's forearm. The giant's brows narrowed. “Do you think such a paltry attack could release you from my grip?” Tars' vision began to blacken at the edges as he was running out of oxygen. He pulled the knife out and plunged it back in, over and over again, the wounds almost instantaneously clotting as he pulled out the knife. Tars was weakening, but he kept stabbing. He was moments from blacking out, when he felt himself drop to the hard packed earth, air flooding into his lungs. He wheezed in gasps of air through white hot lungs. Only a second or two had passed, by the time Tars' mind raced back to the threat at hand. As quickly as his weakened body could, he settled into a fighting crouch, knife pointed at the Warrior.

 

“I tire of you, little thing. Go back to your people,” spat the Warrior, “or die here!” Tars remained where he was. Amidst gulps of air, Tars managed to croak out a response. “It is clear, I cannot best you, honored Chosen. However, I would sooner die here, than leave in disgrace!” Tars exclaimed. A resigned smile settled on Tars' face. One that spoke of a pure resignation of purpose and coming consequence. With his free hand, Tars beckoned the giant close, “Let us end this, you and I.” In a blur the Warrior had slapped the knife out of Tars hand and had knelt to meet the youth at eye level. He placed his massive hand on Tars' shoulder pinning him in place. The grip was firm but gentle. “You are truly seen, young warrior. Your struggle this day has ended, your answer is accepted. Say nothing, and wait for me over there,” the Warrior said pointing at the central dais, “There is still one more that may be in need of further testing.” A flood of emotions flooded Tars all at once in a massive adrenaline dump. Relief, elation, curiosity, trepidation, almost overwhelmed him. But he managed to control his demeanor and calmly staggered over to where he was told to wait.

 

Tars watched as the Warrior, examined his wounds or the scabs that were already forming on his forearm. His struggle complete, Tars noticed The smallest youth was slowly regaining consciouness. As minutes drifted by the Warrior stood where he was, watching the slowly awakening young hunter. The young man, blinked and looked around to get his barrings. When he realized where he was, the look of disappointment covered his face, as he realized what had happened to him and remembered the giant's words. He sunk his head in shame for but a moment, then he slowly climbed to his feet, widened his stance and stood, not like a defeated dog, but as a proud young man. The Warrior addressed the young man, “I told you to get off my mountain. You told me your answer, 'you cannot trust living beings, but steel you can trust.' A clearly false answer, as that steel you carry, will not stop me from killing you, should you not tuck your little tail between your legs and scurry away.”

 

The hunter stared placidly back at the Warrior. “I don't know what happened to the others, but do what you must, I...am...not...leaving.” Tars watched as the warrior brutalized the young man, and time after time, the young man kept getting up. It was then, that Tars understood the game being played here. The Warrior had such overwhelming strength, he could have killed all of them with one blow at any time. He had proven that, and yet, he hit his latest victim with just enough force to keep him alive. Every time, the youth struggled, and stood back up, just to be knocked down again with the unstoppable force of the Warriors blows. “I've broken six of your ribs, and your left arm at this point, how much more can you endure?” The youth glance towards Tars, then back at the Warrior, and replied, “As much as I have to, to stand next to him.”

 

“I can see in your heart, young one. I know the pain your body, and the conviction in your heart.” He stepped back to be able to address both aspirants. You both, through hardship and pain have discovered the answer. Steel is not strong, it cannot be trusted. Neither is the hand that wields the steel. What is strong is the force of will. The will bends the metal into the shape the forger desires. The will, forces the hand to practice over and over to develop skill in weaponry. It is the force of will that changes this galaxy. You two have shown a will stronger than steel. You have proven yourselves worthy, and your struggling ends for today. But understand this, while this trial is over, the real tests have just begun.

 

Edited December 23, 2024 by space wolf

[space wolf]

Decided to mock-up a little Chapter Approved graphic

Edited December 24, 2024 by space wolf

[space wolf]

...and organization chart