004 : Serenity in the Storm

The barkeep placed the drinks in a row on the bar, glancing between Serenity and the door, as if expecting a large party to arrive to join her. She paid him little attention and filled her travelling flask with glass after glass for the journey, drank one to remember absent family, another for friends lost and finally left the last glass standing alone on the bar as she left to find lodgings for the night. Always a lonely glass for the Abbot. A toast left un-drunk for all the good in the world.

The Storm

The Snowflake Mountains were vast, slicing upwards through the clouds. The monastery, carved into the rock face of a nameless peak, sat just above the cloud layer. On a calm day, the clouds lapped against the stairs leading to the monastery entrance like a layer of foam. To descend the mountain was to submerge into the clouds as if disappearing under the sea.

On the days that were not calm, black storm clouds would envelop the peak; the windows and doors would be bolted closed and the monks would chant in harmony with the battering storm until it passed. It was on one of these days Serenity in the Storm was born, to the sound of thrashing winds and the rhythmic chanting.

Life in the monastery was ordered, much of the day was spent ensuring the monks had enough food and fuel to sustain through the harsher storms where venturing out was not possible. Spare time was spent training, for self-improvement, to help repress the inner curiosity common to most Tabaxi and to keep warm. Serenity chose combat, it kept her blood circulating and warmed her up quicker than meditation or some of the other choices and it kept her mind focussed on the task at hand.

All the monks were Tabaxi, the families had lived in these peaks for generations and acclimatised to the mountain terrain; their fur was thicker than their ground-level dwelling cousins and their diet had changed beyond recognition from a carnivorous nature to relying on sustenance from various plants and lichen unique to the mountain range. There was hardly any contact with the outside world and even in the harsh conditions the monks were mostly self-sufficient.

The Abbot, who appeared ancient to Serenity’s youthful eyes (she presumed him to be at least a thousand years old, although truthfully he was likely around his 80th year), was strict, stoical and pragmatic, but overall a deeply good individual. In his teachings he instilled a deep, lawfully good interpretation of the world and its inhabitants. Serenity was enthralled by his stories and longed to travel in the world to experience it for herself.

The Visitor

It was not unheard of for visitors to reach the monastery. On occasion a Tabaxi from a distant clan might arrive through the mist, having followed the long forgotten path on a pilgrimage to reconnect the clans. Often curiosity brought them and the cold sent them on their way again.

This time the visitor was an old human man, how he climbed the stairs up to the monastery, let alone had the agility to traverse the treacherous mountain paths, Serenity couldn’t comprehend. She had never seen a human before and wondered whether they all looked this hairless and cold. She listened at the door to the great hall as the Abbot talked with the visitor over food and warmth.

His village needed help, their harvest was failing and they had heard the monks had knowledge that would help. This was true, the Abbot was certain of it. He addressed the monks and explained it was their sworn duty to help those in need. Faith in the Mist and Aurora at Dusk both trained in botany and volunteered to travel with the man to help the village. The Abbot looked across to Serenity in the Storm and tasked her with assisting the two on their journey as there were a great deal of scrolls and supplies to be taken and her training meant she would have the stamina and strength to support her two friends in the task.

They left early the next day. Serenity said her goodbyes to family and friends, excited to be venturing into the world of the Abbot’s tales. Faith and Aurora were equally excited to finally be putting their training to use and bringing blessings upon the monastery for their good deeds. The three friends, all in their early 20’s, strode swiftly along the almost hidden pathways, eager to descend the mountains as swiftly as possible. They had played together as children in the monastery, grown up together and were excited to be having their first adventure together too.

Serenity was surprised at how much stamina the old man had to keep pace with them. She also found it strange that he had chatted so warmly with the Abbot, but now said very little at all, only gesturing the route to take to his village, but Serenity had heard that humans were very different culturally to Tabaxi. The three friends chatted almost constantly, they imagined they would have many of their own tales to tell when they returned.

The Village

It took nearly two days to reach the foothills of the mountains. As they descended, the rocky paths became wider and more well travelled, but they did not pass any other travellers. The old man led them East into the forest. Eventually, Serenity saw a clearing ahead with what appeared to be a small village of thatched houses. As they approached she felt something was wrong. She glanced to her friends, who were both distracted looking through a scroll with drawings of strange plants Serenity had never seen, she looked to the old man, who did not appear to look concerned, walking swiftly forwards.

As they arrived at the edge of the village, another human stepped out into the path ahead of them. This one was taller, wearing a dark flowing cloak and held in his hand a staff that looked as if it were carved from a single giant piece of bone. His eyes seemed to glow faintly and he looked straight at the old man, who dropped to his knees and lowered his head to the ground. The new figure’s voice was deep and somehow jagged as he addressed the old man, ignoring Serenity and her friends “I only require one. No matter, you have served well”.

What happened next was a blur - sensing danger Serenity dropped everything and bolted to her friends, only to see the expression of horror on Faith’s face as the life drained from her and she dropped to the floor like an empty vessel. Aurora screamed out as hands came out of nowhere dragging her into the darkness of the forest where the stranger with the staff of bone strode after her. Serenity gave chase, but creatures emerged from the trees, lifeless corpses lurching forwards, Serenity fought them back, but there were too many. She had to run, it was run or die.

--

A day later Serenity sat at the base of the mountain, looking at the path leading back to the mountains and her home. She was shaking and broken. Images of the previous day flashing through her mind. She kept seeing Faith's face and hearing Aurora's screams over and over. More than anything she wanted to run home to her family, but the guilt and shame were so strong. She was the fighter, she was there to protect her friends. How could she return to the monastery and face her friend's families? This was not how it was supposed to be. This evilness, this cruelness. The Abbot spoke only of good in the world, Serenity was not prepared. She blamed herself, but she also blamed the Abbot. She could not return.

Serenity felt lost. She knew she was not strong enough to fight the evil that had taken her friends and she was certain that no one at the monastery would be able to train her to fight these monsters. She decided she would travel into the world and she would find someone to teach her, or she would teach herself. Serenity rose unsteadily to her feet and took one last look up at the distant mountains. Then she turned and walked away.

Wandering from town to town it soon became clear to Serenity that the Abbot's tales of a good and just world were only make believe. Each town she visited she saw the reality of the world she now roamed, survival of the fittest, bandits, thugs and robbers. To start with, Serenity kept a low profile, keeping to the shadows, watching at a distance. She would watch the street fights and muggings, far more brutal and underhand than anything trained at the monastery. Then, at night, she would practice. She did not sleep well now, her friends were often in her thoughts at night, practicing kept the nightmares at bay.

Eventually, Serenity began to intervene to help people. She would step in to fight off the would-be muggers or break up bar fights. It did not always go well, but more and more often she was able to help people.

After a while of moving between towns in the wilderness, Serenity came across a larger settlement, a small city. She saw the fighting here was different again and then she discovered the pit fights. She would watch the trained fighters each night fighting to earn their next meals. She saw how they would fight, drink and fight some more, then drink some more. She watched their fighting stances change as they became intoxicated, saw their bodies move more fluidly, but without discipline. One time she saw a man hit so hard she was sure he would snap in two, but as the blow fell on him, he was so intoxicated and appeared so calm and relaxed, his body moved effortlessly with the blow absorbing it.

Serenity was obsessed, she felt this was the place she could learn what she needed to know. She began to drink more and more, she told herself it was to develop her fighting style and focus on mastering the state of drunken relaxation that seemed to make people absorb blows and move with such fluidity, but in reality she found the drink helped to cloud her mind and sometimes even bring her moments of peace, before the faces of her friend's and their last moments returned again.

Combining her focus and discipline with this new drunken boxing technique, Serenity was able to achieve feats she had never thought possible. She began to enter the pit fights to practice and her movements became swifter and her hits became stronger. She used the money she earned to eat and find shelter and anything extra she gave to those more needy.

So it was in Daggerford, Serenity found herself in the local Pit fight, she was to fight second, but was not too concerned as she had only really come as she had heard the final fight of the night would be pretty spectacular and she was looking forward to seeing if there was something new to learn from it.

The first fight passed quickly and was rather dull. Serenity was glad to be in the ring as the Pit Boss called the second fight to start. The crowd here were mostly human and it was clear they were looking forward to seeing this unarmored ‘cat’ beaten out of town. Serenity finished the last of her flask and began to sway. The fight was over fast. Her opponent, a cocky bald man with a big axe, mostly injured himself as Serenity moved around him like wind around a mountain. She took one nasty hit to the shoulder, but the alcohol was more than enough to dull the pain. In the end the bald human fell on his own axe, which did not please the crowd. But Serenity was still paid by the Pit Boss, who told her the final fight was not going to happen after all, so she left.

Serenity found a quieter tavern nearby, the barkeep looked at her like he had never seen a Tabaxi before, but he had certainly seen gold before and that seemed to stop him staring as she threw down some coins and ordered ten quadruple whiskeys and sat down at the bar.