The Outlander

Whispering quietly, I chanted and drew an invisible sigil of comfort on my dying wife's forehead, and turned to add a log to the low burning hearth. Our small wooden home was situated near the banks of a small lake, opposite of the main tribal settlement. We chose to settle here, away from the others, for privacy.

Donning my trusted axe, I set out in the late afternoon sunlight to check the traps, in hopes of an easy, fresh meal of meat. I have been a bit busy lately to hunt; over the last three moons I have watched all of my children die of the Scourge, which now pains my beloved wife. There is no time to mourn, only to survive; life out in the northern lands is far too unforgiving for long goodbyes. At least that's what I tell myself.

Crunching through last night's snowfall, I headed north along the trails, towards the Settlement. Or rather, what's left of it. When searching for the shaman to heal my children, I traveled to the settlement only to find half the townspeople to be dying of the same mysterious infection my children suffered. The shaman told me that only the Blessing of the Phoenix can save our people, and many of the healthiest men were sent out to seek the Phoenix. None have yet returned. I was unable to go myself, so long as my family remained ill themselves. I must stay with them.

There was nothing in the first traps, so I continued on. Closer to the settlement. Sometimes when I am alone, like I am now, I would find the time to shed a tear for my friends and my family. But only here, when only the owls and squirrels were near to see my pain. What can I do? I am but a simple man. I built my home with my own hands. I fought hard in the tribal wars when I was young, and earned the powerful axe that I still use. None of that is of any good, it cannot bring back my children. The Runes taught to me since childhood were of no use, either.

Why am I spared? Am I spared the faster death of the Scourge only to die a lonely old man with no heirs?

I passed the last of the traps, and found myself running the final mile to the settlement, and wasn't surprised to find the streets empty. Groans of the suffering wafted from every tent, every hut. My people were dying, and I stood alone. A simple man with an axe, veteran of wars, standing before an enemy I cannot understand or fight. I saught the shaman's hut, and found him gasping, but awake. He was surprised to see me alive and healthy.

"Young warrior, I do not have much time left in this body. Soon I must pay my respects to my ancestors." Wheeze, cough "While you are yet healthy, leave this land, travel to the lands of the south, and find the Phoenix. Nothing but the blessing of the Phoenix will save us now..." This time his cough brought up blood, and the strange black fluid characteristic of the Scourge. "Go....."

I gripped my axe hard, "I cannot leave my wife while she yet needs me, there must be another way, the others may yet return!"

He did not hear me, his eyes now closed as he slipped in to pain-induced sleep. I drew upon his doorway a Rune of Heat, to keep his home warm, and left.

The snow was beginning to fall again as I walked up to my home. I stamped my boots on the ground to knock off the snow, and entered as softly as I could. It was of no matter; my beloved wife lay dead, in a pool of black blood, stricken dead by the scourge at long last.

I burned her on a funeral pyre that night, cutting the wood not with my wood saw, but with my battle axe.

Without setting foot in my home again, or looking back even once at the settlement, I drew a sigil of protection on my door and immediately traveled south.

I did not mourn. There is no time for a simple man like myself to mourn his own losses, this I know. Only time to survive.

I must find the Phoenix. My people need me.