#to emotional vulnerability she would have snapped up that ice cold babe so fast. Mailen rebound for Ikrie too.

[one-of-many-journeys]

Day 34

Ourea's Retreat

I left the retreat as the sun rose. Would have been nice if you’d told me about this open path up the mountain, Naltuk. I guess the whole rite was meant to test me. I made my way down the mountain, moving as fast as I could to keep warm, then picked up another mount from a Charger site on the way.

Stopped in a small camp at the base of the mountain and changed back into my warmer furs, cleaned off the paint. Then I overheard the hunters there discussing two missing among their number, wondering when they might return. I asked the Chieftain and Shaman of the Werak about them, and they told me that the hunters were participating in some sort of initiation ritual for their Werak, the White Teeth.

The hunters were tasked with surviving alone for four days and nights with nothing but the clothes on their backs, their weapons, and whatever they can find out on the ice. The two missing hunters should have returned at sunrise with the rest, but there was no sign of them. The others wouldn't even consider searching. When the ice melts, the Chieftain said, the water would wash the bodies downriver to be spotted by the sentinels and dragged out. That's all the effort they were willing to spare.

They told me that the hunters wouldn't accept my help even if they were still alive, as the ordeal had to be weathered alone. Either way, I have to try. These people are so wrapped up in the value of their own deeds...their pride is everything to them. And I thought the Carja were bad.

Snow storm kicking up as I rode to the ritual grounds.

One of the hunters was still standing strong, surrounded by Lancehorns, holding her own. I helped her take out the last few by catching three in a chill water canister explosion. The two of us speared them to scrap once they were brittle. Her name is Ikrie, and she seemed more than well enough to make her way back to camp. She said something about fighting against Banuk tradition—it was starting to get interesting, when a pack of Scrappers and Glinthawks came to scavenge the Lanehorn carcasses.

Ikrie favours frost, which suits me fine. We make a good team. Once the machines were downed, she told me of the other hunter, Mailen, her friend and hunting partner since childhood, who snapped her leg when descending the ice and refused all aid since. Mailen believes deeply in the tribe's laws and was willing to die in pursuit of a place in the White Teeth. Apparently it's a well renown Werak, though I'm not sure why that makes it worth dying for.

Ikrie only stayed past the end of the ritual to protect Mailen, but knew she wouldn't survive much longer without proper care. I agreed to help Ikrie save her friend, no matter what useless death she was set on dying.

I followed Ikrie to the place Mailen had carved for herself in the ice, waiting to die. Two Longlegs and a Scorcher; frost came in handy, but I had a couple of close calls.

Fire kiln root potions are essential against these things. Once I tore off its mine launcher and had it tied down to unload its ammunition, it was dead before long. Taking out its blaze canisters did a lot of damage too.

Unsurprisingly, Mailen wasn't happy to see us, but I could see in her eyes that she didn't want to die. She begrudgingly accepted my help in fashioning her splint, but she got up alone, walked away, stumbling, alone. Ikrie hoped for her forgiveness, but Mailen responded coldly. There's no forgiveness coming. Mailen chose the tribe.

These Banuk, they keep themselves as cold as the ice they endure, as if only closing their hearts will make them strong. I hope Ikrie will be okay.

I climbed back down the ritual pass and picked up my mount, heading back to the camp. For a moment, the road was higher than the swirl of the storm. I stopped on the way to hunt goats and badgers—for the meat, and to pay for a map of sites where Bluegleam is known to gather. If I'm going to afford something warmer to wear, and some of the Banuk's powerful weaponry, I'm going to need to scrape up as much frozen machine fluid crystals as I can get.

Mailen was back at camp when I returned. I told the Chieftain what Ikrie bid me tell, that she was the one who died on the ice, and Mailen alone prevailed. It was obvious to the Chieftain that I had helped Mailen, but by the laws of the ordeal she succeeded: four days, four nights, alone. She gave up everything for the White Teeth, but it was only because of that technicality in tribal law that they accepted her. I'm not sure what Mailen would've done if they hadn't.

She thanked me, in an indirect, frozen way. Not that I care; I did this for Ikrie. I hope that someday Mailen can see how foolish she was to cast Ikrie aside for a Werak who wouldn't even search for her corpse.

I journeyed up to the Hunting Grounds nearby in the Snowchant mountains. The keeper there was about what I was expecting. Grizzled, reserved, and lamenting the fact that she didn't die young with spear in hand, for some reason. She and Mailen would probably get along great. She was surprised to hear that Ourea had sent me to compete against the fastest times set at the grounds, though she didn't show it much. It was clear she didn't think I was capable, but reserved her judgement, unlike the Carja keepers tend to.

I went for the Onslaught trial—still haven't got a handle on the Stormslinger Ourea gave me. The trial was tough, far tougher than any Carja trials. I suppose I should've expected that, given that the Hunter's Lodge is more a parade of nobles than elite hunters, at least historically. The Banuk attending the grounds released gates to different stone-enclosed arenas as I took down wave after wave of machines. Mostly Watchers and Scrappers—easy enough to take down in groups with my blast sling, a few well-placed spear strikes and hardpoints if not. The Longleg I tied down and set off its power cells with my war bow, taking out the Watchers following it with the ensuing shock blast. In the final arena there was a Ravager, the final challenge, along with a swarm or Scrappers. I tore off its canon and tied it down while I picked off the others, and finally let loose with the canon to destroy the Ravager itself.

I didn't even beat the fastest recorded time first try! Take note, Carja keepers. I had to give it a second go, of course, and used the same strategy, just better executed. Beat the fastest champion by nearly thirty seconds.

Night was falling by the time I finished off the final challenge. It was around then that Ikrie arrived, keen to try out a challenge of her own design. She assured me that she was okay after everything that happened to Mailen but...let's just say if I was spurned like that the first thing I would do would be to set myself an extremely difficult hunting challenge and train until I dropped too.

My body was done for the day, so I declined Ikrie's offer, but promised to return. Slept in the tent at the Hunting Ground. That's one great deed for the Werak down, but I'll have to do a bit more than show up their greatest machine hunter to gain Aratak's attention.