Rintar Intro

RINTAR: -



The dwarves were astonished by the first glance they had of the boy.  Hunt Master Koira had dropped to the ground at the first sound of movement.  A silent motion of his hand froze his hardened hunters into immobility.  The hunting hounds fell into a crouch, their broad heads and low slung bodies caught into stillness by their master’s hand.  Arching trees vaulted overhead, the dense underbrush flicking slightly aside to show scrawny arms wrapped around a sunken frame.  Rays of light filtered through the trees, dancing dangerously across the capricious green of the bushes. 

That the boy was feral was never in doubt. Koira  watched through narrowed eyes, seeing the small frame shaking with an ever present tension that seemed to engulf the boy.  It was like observing a volcano that seemed likely to erupt at any moment.  The darting eyes counter pointed the trembling that vibrated through the child’s body.  Ragged remnants of clothing clung to the child’s form, scratched and shredded and filthy.  The boy’s hair was matted around his head like the great vines of an ancient tree, and the haunted eyes were full of fear and anger.  He held the look of a wild beast, facing it’s own extinction.

How he had come to be there Koira  could only guess.  Grimly he reflected to himself that he had a fairly good idea – the banishing of children from the villages down the valley of the humans by the ocean had long been a custom he abhorred.  Hunt Master he might be, but Koira on could never bring himself to leave any cub or injured animal behind.  Even one as ill favoured as this child – but taking him would be a feat in itself.  From the look in his eyes, he would flee instantly from any attempts to approach him.  Gesturing in the silent language of the hunt, he moved his party into position to surround the boy.  There were a dozen at his command, powerful in the shoulders, muscular frames, hide jerkins hardened into armour-like plate.  He waved away their weapons, motioning instead for them to grasp the child with their hands. 

At his signal, the dwarves moved swiftly from the shelter of their hiding places.  This was no ordinary hunt – they certainly did not have leave to run his through with a spear as they would a true prey.  Koira wished no harm on the child, only to find a way to subdue him until they could have a chance to examine him.  He looked gaunt at the very least, the mark of the wild was on his face.  Karju and Villisika were instantly into position, leaping as silently as only trained hunters could, to clutch at the body of the terrified child.  Vallisika lept in front of the boy, reaching out to grasp him.  Karju came in from behind, his dull hunting garb blending in with the greenish brown of the mighty tree trunks around them.  It was like trying to capture a (….) snake.  In a flash, the child had dodged the hands of Villisika.  Karju managed to lay his hands on one of the boy’s arms, clenching a fist convulsively around the slender flesh in an effort to restrain him.  Instantly the boy twisted and tried to roll his body in Karju’s grasp.  The slight breath of sound from his lips could only be pain, but he did not cease his struggles even though anchored by the dwarf’s hand.  As warmly as he could, Karju stretched his lips in a semblance of the smile favoured by the river folk.  He stepped closer in order to strengthen his grip, but found himself off-balance by the boy’s struggles.  His foot slid helplessly across the root of a giant Hati tree, and to his annoyance Karju found himself flailing inelegantly in mid-air.  Astonished, he released his grip on the cub’s arm as he struggled to keep his balance.  Hoots of dwarvish laughter echoed through the air as the child raced forward and flung himself between Villisika’s legs, escaping from the enclosing circle.  Having found this gap in the circle, the child fled like a frightened deer into the woods, and quickly vanished from sight. 

Koira let a choice curse fly from his lips as he scrambled to see where the boy had gone.  The Hunt Master was unimpressed, as fleet as the boy was, there was no excuse for such laxness from his kin. 

“What would the ancestors say?  Two full grown dwarven hunters, and you can’t even catch a mere child?”  He shook his head in disgust, watching the usually reserved Karju struggling to regain his dignity.  His dramatic tumble had landed him on his backside among the litter on the forest floor, and now he muttered crossly to himself as he attempted to brush himself down.  “Perhaps I should send you back to camp to fetch your own children to capture the child.  How old is your little one now, Villisika?  At barely 30 years of age, I think even he could do better than what you two just displayed.”

Villisika pretended great interest in the binding strapped around his hunting spear, twisting the weathered leather between his thick fingers.  Koira could not contain his outrage; in close to 200 years as Hunt Master, he had never seen such a farce.  He heaved a sigh as he fought to contain himself with the dignity required of his position.  The hounds had not taken their eyes from him during the entire exchange, their piercing gaze waiting for his signal.  The second he motioned them the signal for ‘track’, they leapt after the boy on silent paws.  Pride stiffened Koira’s spine again.  There was no question that the hounds that he bred were the finest in any dwarven camp.  Their fleet paws would follow the boy until they pinpointed him and trapped him into position for their masters to locate.  How to capture this cub once they had him cornered – now that was going to be a challenge. 

“Would that we had a net to toss over the top of that little fish.” Muttered Pad.  He slipped one sandal off one foot, rummaging around until he triumphantly emerged with a sharp pebble.  “Hah.  Got you.  A couple more leagues on that thing, and it would start to remind me of my wife.  All sharp, and constantly nagging.”

Koira’s eyes narrowed at the offhanded comment.  “A net….” He mused.  “A worthy idea, Pad.  All of you, spread out and gather some vines.  Quickly, we will not have long before the hounds tree our little quarry.”

The hurridly made net showed neither skill nor finness, but at this point Koira could not bring himself to care.  It would be sufficient as a snare, at any rate, and none of them had the time or the energy to spend on one small feral boy.  Once the net was slung alkwardly across the shoulders of Hiiskaus and Pad, Koira gave them the signal to follow the hounds.  He gestured silently to his party; each gathered their composure and focussed on the hunt.  It was more than just a simple hunt, this had become a matter of pride.  The broad shoulders of the dogs had broken a path through the floor of the forest.  The hunters moved with surprising swiftness for ones so short and powerful, their feet quickly found the path that lead them towards a series of large boulders where the hounds had the boy trapped.  Had it not been for his previous actions, Koira would feel sorry for this trembling child, flattened out now against a bolder and struggling for purchase to pull his body higher.  His grasp slipped, and he slid down backwards towards the waiting dwarves.  Disbelieving, Koira watched the boy flip his body even as he slid, his feet struck and ground and he was running before any of them could draw breath.  At Pad’s shout of warning, Hiiskaus surged forwarded and tried to fling his end of the net over the boy.  He managed to snare the boy’s arm and head, but his feet remained free.  Competely paniced, the boy continued to run.  Both Pad and Hiiskaus managed to keep their hold on the net, and the boy finally found the end of the vines.  The force of the net snapping back tore him off his feet, and fell heavily.  Flinging his body from side to side, the boy tried to free himself from the trailing vines.

Hiiskaus’ low, gravely grumble seemed not much more than a whisper.  “Be still now, little beastie.  Old Hiiskaus doesn’t want to have to run no more this day.”  Ever so carefully he extended his hands towards the net.  If he could just get a grip on the child, he could ease him out of the bindings that were threatening to constrict the child.

“Careful Hiiskaus, we don’t want to have to be chasing him again.” Karju shouted.  His sudden yell started even the solid Hiiskaus, who hissed back at him in frunstration.

“Well, if you hadn’t let him go in the first place, I would be doin’ this now, you sottin excuse for a gnome.”  He reached forward again carefully, then let out a scream in pain and surprise.  Before any of the other dwarves could react, the child had made one last, vicious roll and had managed to rip the poorly made net free.  He was on his feet in an instant, diving under outstretched hands and fleeing towards freedom.

“Nyr doch!” spat Hiiskaus.  His hand drew back, then moved explosively in the direction the boy had taken. 

His vision obscured by the backs of the dwarves gathered round, Koira felt a cold dread clutch at him.  The ancient dwarven battle cry could be both anger and curse, and he feared for the safety of the boy who had led them on such a grand chace.  If a quiet and solemn dwarf like Hiiskaus had felt the need to utter such profanities, then this child was trouble indeed.  The dread was eased by the accompanying sounds of laughing, as he pushed his way through the crowd to find his oldest friend holding up a bleeding hand.

“He bit me.  The little runt bit me!”  Spluttered Hiiskaus in disgust. 

Koira felt the



to go through a thicket when Hiiskaus yells “Nyr doch!” Koira cringes as he can not see what is happening he fears the boy is now dead Nyr dock is an ancient dwarven Battle cry used also in anger as a curse. He comes upon the seen to find most of his hunting pack their laughing at Hiiskaus who holds his bleeding hand up to Koira “he bit me, the runt bit me.” Koira looks to the others “is he …” “no replies another unconscious but not dead. Our quiet friend here knocked him on the head with a good stones through.  If you tend to Hiiskaus grave wound ill grab the lad, and bring him over here.” Koira nods “we might as well eat as well Villiska get the rations out Karju go fill the water bottles there is a creek near by I can smell it. Salama (bastard) after u put the human down see grab ur rations and see if u can find any tracks we need food now we have the boy.” Salama nods “It was a waste of time grabbing him in the first place” He dumps the lad behind were Koira is tending Hiiskaus grabs a ration of Villiska and heads into the forest. Villiska moves on to the other dwarvesall looking in the direction Karju went waiting fo him to return with more water as this lot of dried meat was particulary salty. As Koira finishes tending Hiiskaus wound he turns around to check the childs wound only to notice that the child was no longer their. “ This time he was urs Huntmaster calls another noticing koira’s stern face. Do we chase or wait.” Koira “We hunt, as soon as Salama returns the rest of u go get what u can while we still have light. Villiska and Karju u two will come with me and we hunt the child bring plenty of water and what ever fresh food we have.” They set of after the boy with two of the dogs in lead Koira the other 3 to find fresh game.

It was not long before the dogs again found the boy hiding up in a cave in a dead end valley it was one that had often been used in the past by dwarves as a rest spot in times of intolerable weather. Dwarves by their very nature are sure and steary hardy people able to with go the worst of weather, but even they sometimes get fed up with forcful and torrential downfalls and days wear the sun makes the forest smother you in oppressing heat and a wet sticky form of rain. It is not so much a rain but the falling of the heat mist from the leaves above and sticky with the plants coating. Here on days such as this they had waited for the worst of it to pass. It was here that the boy had gone to rest to hide possible to sleep. They waited out the front of the cave with the dogs closing ever more in. Koira, karju and Villiska sit outside and wait. Koira “Get a cookfire going and we’ll try to half smoke half lure him out with cooking, the smell of roasting meat should help.” Koira pulled out his pipes and bargain a slow solemn tune.











         It took the Dwarven boar hunters many hours and many struggles before they finally managed to subdue the boy, via ropes and nets. As not even music seemed to adhere to this savage beast. From here they pursued to calm him with voice and tune, alas it was to no avail. In the end it was food that satisfied him laced with a dose of sleeping powder from the stores of Daroon Healer of Lilliputian. Before venturing back to the great hall they decided to bind the boy, as they do all fledges to the hunt, they bound them as though they were a wild boar themselves. They tied his hands and feet before sliding a long pole between the bindings; this is how they carried him the few miles home. After all they could not leave him out in the wild not with the coming of the cold season, surely not with such little meat on his bones he would not last a week in the cold mountain winter.


-          -  -

After much deliberation and discussion the Elders council decided that the child could and should stay. “At least through winter and the autumn thaws come. We believe he is a child cast out, and more than likely Raider scion. Berserker Brood, that at least would explain his abandonment and possibly his survival. The humans of the villages between the valley and the ocean have been raided for centuries now, as many of you know but more and more there are children being born of raider blood and some as the y age start to show signs of their fathers heritage. They are berserkers or rage warriors with a lust for blood. We know most of these are killed out right by other villagers as soon as signs arise, but we have also heard of families that notice it first taking the child away and leaving it in the forests to fend for itself so the poor mother doesn’t have to see the child killed before her eyes. This one's mother must have prayed hard to have him survive alone so far up the valley.’ Stated the elder Bonte the one known affectionately as Grandma by the entire Dwarven village of Lilliputian for her long-lividity, wise council and affection to all. “As long as he is no threat to any member of the village or our peaceful way of life it is deemed he can stay with us past the wintry months and from this time forward you are to treat him as if he were a born member of Lilliputian, with perhaps a little more tolerance till he is used to our ways. It would be nice if there were a family he could stay with or house to stay in. If no one will take him in then for now he will pass his time in my care.” She followed with “it is true his body is scrawny by our standards. But from our understanding of his own peoples young he is thin but fairly healthy and his body is actually well developed muscles on his small frame, he looks as if he will be a strong large human. If, we help him to live that long.” That was the last thing that was to be said by Bonte about the subject with that she turned and went towards the hearth and served up a bowl of stew she brought it back and sat it in front of the boy. Who was still tied at the hands Bonte motioned for of the young warriors to come over and cut the binds. As soon as it was done the boy grabbed the bowl and slurped it all down in one motion. He looked around for more and another dwarven lady brought over another bowl full she placed it on the table and no sooner had she released the bowl than the same thing happened the bowl of broth had been consumed. That’s when Futtern said shed take him in as she turned to her husband ________ and said “wont we dear.” He grunted an “If we must, she tries to feed most of the village anyway might as well feed this new cub as well, give me a reason to clean out the attic room as well.” He said in a ruff grumbley voice. To any who did not know him he would have sounded uset but even for a dwarf he was a gruff sounding man but of warm as warm can be was his heart.
         That evening after another meal in the great hall Futten and her husband took the child back to their place their son would be home in a few days so until then the unnamed child would sleep in his room. “Well have to name him” Futton said “I cant just keep calling him boy.” ________ nodded “You decide dear ive got to go start on that attic before Musuko gets back.” She said something but he didn’t hear he was already up stairs and heading for the attic.