The Wildling Way

Two Men Enter...

A true Weirwraith is our chief after all, as Zhusuela has defeated Ishtfan in one on one battle. I am conflicted as to this Chief’s rising, as he is not the man I would have chosen, but it is good that we are not led by a stranger. The wise woman was so sure of Zhusuela’s defeat, and though I advised a contingency plan in the case of Ishtan’s fall, my words fell on deaf ears. Though I pointed out that according to our dreams we would be foolish to name who the Chief would be, as we all dreamed a different one, it seems that to some, I am still unworthy to counsel. She is vulnerable now, as the Dream-Chief she claimed has fallen. I fear that the tribe will soon ferret out her madness as those of us who were closer to her now have. I tried to help, but I can no longer; we have more important matters to now attend. All of our dreams contained a great battle against the undead, of that, and only that, can we be certain. We need all the leaders we can muster, and it is good that Zhusuela spared Ishtfan, as though I may not trust him, I do realize what resources he can bring.

Mordin and I will confer with Honovi and her people. The “crowning” of the new Chief, as with all Chiefs, will cause some unrest. We must work together to contain it and ensure our subchiefs will be ready to lead and rule. Among other things, Mordin and I spoke in the privacy of our tent. I haven’t yet taken a family name, as I came here as a slave, but he feels that my actions now warrant that I am given a title, much like Ishtfan, who was given a new life today with his Name.

Though some try to deny me, I rise to help lead this tribe to glory. I am Tali’Zorah, The Next Dawn.

Season One Epilogue 10/11/2013
Canowicakte Akule

I am Canowicakte Akule, The Son of Yiska Akule & Meda Akule, I am of my mother’s Tribe Weirwrath.

The People make their choice on who is or isn’t worthy of respect and like me Ishtfan you are a pariah to the People.

I mean no offense I speak openly of the truth of things.

My last words to you before the ceremony was that if you live it would be will of the Gods. By Their will your life was spared, and for that you should be found worthy. The People have their chieftain, rightly earn according to the tradition of the freefolk.

There are those of the weirwraith that have wait long to see their chief and that is why we are here.

(sinister look) Is that strange to hear?

Look around you, can you not see them… Yes now you see… my Fangs. They have come to pay their respect to Ishtfan, The one chosen by the gods. Let CanowicakteI Akule and Awenasa be the first of the Fangs to pledge ourselves to the Wolf Chieftain.

The people remember the old ways, but the Fang are born knowing the ways. The People will underestimate Ishtfan, but the Fangs will venerate the Wolf Chieftain. A war comes and the old gods have selected their champions. At its conclusion the People will remember what the Fangs of the weirwraith already know.

<<ishtfan name="true">> is of the weirwraith and <<ishtfan name="true">> is worthy.

(baying of wolves)

The Fangs have speak!

The Legacy of Buchongahelas
Canowicakte Akule

I am Canowicakte Akule, The Son of Yiska Akule & Meda Akule, I am of my mother’s Tribe Weirwrath.

The free folks former glory lies beneath a distant hill and our future glory fills my dreams, but I see only cowardice and deception before my eyes.

Old Chief Buchongahelas may accomplish in death what he failed to accomplish in life. Buchongahelas faced with the threat of Blood Tear scattered the tribe to the winds. A greater threat… No. The greatest threat looms before us and with his final hours he flung the tribe to the wind yet again.

Most of Buchongahelas’s chosen are either weak or shy away from the Mantle, an honorable warrior is denied a chance to lead us, and a outsider is deemed worthy because of a trinket and words spoken by a dying fool. I am angered by Buchongahelas’s deceptions, but a chief decides how he picks his successor and it is for those chosen to seize the title of chieftain. Traditions must be abided by, the mantle of chieftain can’t be diminished because of the foolish notions of an addled man.This is the right of the chief, to deny it to a fool is to deny it to the wise. That is why my angry must be set to the side. The title chieftain must remain strong for what lies ahead.

I have no fear of death at the hands of my enemies, but to see the weirwraith destroyed by its own hand is a burden that is impossible to bear. I fear that the next few hours will not just decide if the weirwraith returns to its glory, but decide the tribes existence.

I feel disappointment, about these things and a and others that I wish not speak of. for these reasons my words go unspoken.

Power and Control
Time Passes Slowly

I have felt this often, when there is stress and danger, as on the hunt or in battle- or, really, during any conflict. My senses sharpen, my body readies… and time passes slowly.

But today, there is no hunt and there is no enemy yet at our door. No, on this day, there is power and control up for grabs, and it seems to be human nature to seek it. The instinct seems so strong it can overcome “survival” itself- look at Akule, who’d rather die than allow another to sway his actions- he’ll never surrender that power and control.

People are busy giving reasons why others should surrender power and control over themselves. For some reason, the gods and prophicies and family heritages never seem to conclude “treat others as they wish to be treated”. It is, however, what I have concluded and, even if it means the end of me, it is what I shall work towards.

Time passes slowly, but, finally, I am at peace.


I will not stand for this. The gods have sent me dreams and portents. It is the strongest they have ever spoken to me and the spearwives coming to me have only confirmed it within my mind. A great battle lays ahead against monsters with blue glowing eyes. I will lead my tribe to victory against them. I do not wish to make children for this tribe. I have more important things to do and only after this charge is laid aside shall little ones be in my future.

I only wish the best for my tribe, though not all of the tribe may not see it now. I must cool my head and think about this. Silje is my friend. Heated words may have passed between us and I did not agree with what she said. She kept the chief from us all and the policies of the tribe were not clear to us all. I did not take a comment of the chief as his final trial to his sub-chiefs as his final rite of passage to them.

This tribe needs leadership that will lead us to victory into the battle ahead. A stranger from another tribe is not the leadership we need. We are not the splinter group. We are the Weirwraths. Tali has convinced me to stay, I was reluctant but agreed. Sometime with Garris will help. We shall discuss these matters in private. He has always helped me center myself.

This I know to be true though, Gods have spoken to me through my dreams. I shall listen even if I must wait to take my place. I just hope the battle shall wait as well.

A Game of Factions

The wise woman continues to befuddle the tribe. She who had assured us that the chief needed to die, she who was so certain that Attika would lead us to a new, prosperous age, met a usurper with some pretty jewelery and now fights us, bending the rules to suit her new purposes. Honovi is visited by the Spearwives and through their urging, elects to become a subchief. My Mordin returns steeled for the fight ahead, but both are denied thier right by this schemer. She sleeps with this shapeshifting usurper and suddenly decides that to become chief, he must only defeat the most cowardly of subchiefs, and yet I am the one called a whore! Or perhaps this is some sort of hidden love? Did she steal away when we were with the Bloody Tears to be with him? Perhaps this is where the necklace was “found” in the first place. My mind wanders to determine her nefarious purposes; what brought about this change?

Honovi and I challenge her on her trickery, but she will not listen to me, deeming me “unworthy.” Does she not understand that as Free Folk, we are all equal? Then, she refuses Honovi, setting her and the Spearwives into a fury. They want to leave, and though I try to talk her into staying, she is filled with too much wrath to listen. I leave her, but promise to send an envoy to retrieve her, should things change. The wise woman then says she will talk only to Mordin, and not to me, saying he would only have “a woman speak for him.” She would besmirch her own sex to twist things to her will! Has this usurper not been in her care, sheltered from the tribe this entire night and day? I know Mordin can hold his own, and he comes back to me and our loyalists. He tells me thier talk went well, but he must think on things. I cannot trust that woman and her people, though, so I have our men stand guard against spies and traitors while we make love.

When we have finished, we speak with Honovi, and are able to convince her to stay, for the good of the tribe. We cannot be fractured by the madness that has overtaken Siljie. The Spearwives and Honovi agree to stay, and we lend her our opulent tent for their own stress-relief while Mordin and I stand with ours. Mordin breaks from us to approach the madwoman and her whelp. I fear what may happen next, but he tells her he will do as she wishes and stand down. He returns to me after a bow, strikingly symbolic, as we Weirwrath bow to no one. I hope the point is taken throughout the tribe. He returns to us. And we watch. We have patience, and we will Wait.

Lost In Pain

My heart breaks because I understand now. I see too clearly.

The smoke was a sign after all. It was not just the sign of the fire of the bloody tears in our territory, it was a foretelling. It was warning us that the chief would die, it was warning us that the urgent need to burn our bodies was once again going to fall upon us. It was the sign of the end of peace. That another long night is to be upon us.

When mother told me what she saw she misunderstood. It was not that Little Chief would be the next Chief, it was that he would be one of our war leaders against the Walkers. Oh, how I wish she or I had seen the next Chief sooner. The Chief destined to be. Even Bael the Bard would be inspired by what he will face. Oh to have the freedom to tell everyone everything would be so nice, to tell them what I have seen and what I know will be but then they will feel they have no freedom or choice. I wonder now what freedom even is.

I think back to the bad feeling I had on the way to investigate the smoke. How could I think there was no knowledge of a curse upon our tribe. The answer lay in my arms last night. Yes, his grandmother was a deceitful hag, but I see where part of her story comes. We need to be one again. It is harder for the women in our tribe to conceive than it is for women of other tribes and yet the bloody tears seem to have so many running around. We simply lost our magic in our violent past, we lost us. Yes, we have those with gifts like Akule, but it is rare compared to who were and who we need to be for the great war before us. We are cursed with sick and weak children so often that do not make it to name day, we must not be splintered. By the old Gods I pray the skills I learned from the Maester and Old one will help once the curse is removed.

I also stand here and recall how sickened I felt at seeing the oath breaking kneelers. It was not just that they betrayed oaths, it is that they disregarded rules and traditions, that they put themselves above the whole and did not have faith and trust … much like some of my friends have acted today. The crone, I fear she knew some of what was to come and dreaded to tell the whole truth. She may even share an older medicine woman in my line, they did try to keep traditions, and she must have also seen. She had my blue eyes, the eye of Eir. She must have been so desperate and scared to get her grandson into place as a sub-chief, before it was too late for us all.

Mother did not even get to see the Chief off today. She is still in hiding with all our people and supplies, the ones meant as a gift to the Chief. If today continues how it has I do believe we may simply leave with all of these things and band with the tribe the crows said were already fighting the White. I feel guilt for these feelings; I know I love all of these people, even those I cannot stand I still love. My cubs. Do they not know I would have died to help them, to heal them? The healing they need is deeper though. May the old gods help us.

I still think the Chief was a Jack but when We All talked of killing him, and wondered if others had planned the same I was not sure of what I know now. Honovi does not even see, and that really hurts. Did we not all ponder why he would send us away in groups and wonder what the test was. It is so sad and funny. He said it plainly with the whole tribe around us. “And report directly back to me.” Well only two little chiefs did that. Even if the others came later, it was too late, they did not report directly. It is so simple, if one cannot obey, one cannot lead. And of the two who did as told only one now lives.

This was his way to control who would and would not be able to compete, only those who passed and Ishvan who passed by merit of the chiefs mouth. It was also symbolic of us all coming back together as one flock even after bad times, he actually gave us a gift, one that people cannot seem to see past themselves. Very Kneeler of them.

I do not understand why my friends and others, well other, feel I kept the chief from them. He himself said he would be there, right where he was, waiting for them. He was in the exact center of the camp, by the fire. I was lying near him should he need me, as I often do for anyone dying. Other people seemed to know they could come up, and they did so. I never asked anyone to leave, though I did suggest to the sub chief he get rest for his big day the night before. The only time we were even alone is when he wished to speak alone and then we went right back to the whole of the tribe, until it was time for his last walk to the lake. That was a very long walk.

I know that what I do I do for us all and I do for my friends, though they do not see it yet. I wish I had time to show Little Chief the cave, to tell the others of my last dreams, to explain every sign and omen. Everything is finally falling into place. Trying to simplify it did not work, as the talk with Little Chief showed clearly and that hurts so deeply. If Honovi, Akule, Attika, Beltibil, or any of my friends asked me do you have my back I would say yes and then ask how I can help. If they asked do you support me I would say yes without needing to know anything more than that they needed me. That is what friends do. They would never have to even ask “Please, trust me.”, and still be expected to go on. Perhaps I give my loyalty too freely to them. Perhaps my heart is too large.

Yes, we are free and proud but if free and proud means we treat death requests as nothing and tradition as If it were not there then this is not free, nor is it where I want to be. I will drink the kings cup before I see more fall apart and then fall to the Walkers. If we respect the wishes of the enemy, then why not the wishes of the Chief. I do hear Attika’s words ring in my head but where has the honor of last wishes gone, regardless of how one died? An enemy on the field would be respected, why not one in the field of leaders? I also hear those of Tali, and I simply could not stop to teach her the gifts of my family and that yes we can see the future. This has been known before but as often happens in daily life I feel I am not really there or seen.

Yes, part of me looks out and wishes I had hours to explain to them and part of me feels so betrayed, alone and humiliated that I … these thoughts do no good and only make me cry more. At least the people think the tears are for the dead.

I am glad that Mord did not report directly back. He is not a man, he is a puppet. We need a leader who thinks on his own and is not owned by a woman who, how did the whores across the wall say it, shell him. If a leader is owned it should be by claiming his heart, not rutting with tricks. If I stay I will be sure to talk to the new chief about this half man quarter chief. I almost regret stopping some of the others from ending this situation earlier, when they offered. I know she broke my mother’s heart and the hearts of many others whose only crime is not being as gifted as she is.

The weight of the necklace weighs heavy upon my flesh and my soul. I know the time is almost here and yet I do not want it to be. At least Mother knows to run with the goods if I am not heard back from or spied upon and seen to be safe. We need all of those supplies to go to great warriors, like the man in the cave. Like the man I held. I am trying to take deep breaths and remind myself that this is what I have trained my whole life for and that for now I am chief, though it is hard to feel that confidence when even your dear ones like Honovi fight with you and disrespect you to your face in a way they never would a chief. I stand all alone.

I may explain one last time about the necklace to everyone when I lay the rules of the battle. When I explain the Great Chief will wear the necklace. I raise my hand and touch the gem, I wonder if it is made out of the same blackness as the weapons, if it has the same power that I saw, read, know and remember, the power to kill the White, or if it simply protects the wearer from the white. In the old stories, the stories of when they were worn were a time much like we will soon face and I pray to the weir tree that it will protect Ishvan.

I know he wore it in my dream as we stood side by side killing the same monsters that were killed in the story in the cave, and know it was not by chance that that is where Beltibil lead us. He led us in part to our salvation. I know that those I call friends will be great leaders and have many warriors listen to them and follow them into our battles, if I can just keep their hides and heads upon them this day.

My mind wonders and I know this as I contemplate how the stories of Akule will resound throughout time for this day; if he will tell the tales of the day Ishvan reunited our people and began our path to victory against the long night, if he will tell of my death or if I will be forgotten in death as it feels I sometimes am in life.

I shake my head, bringing myself back to here and now. Gently I wipe the tears of pain and loneliness from my eyes as I look out upon my friends and my people and remind myself of things as I get ready to speak. I remind myself I am the chief; that though I do not always see, what I see is never wrong; and most importantly that I am Siljie Eir, The Great Blind Healer of the white line of Eir “The Blind” the old great wise woman whose crystal blue eyes foretold the end of many chiefs and the birth of many children, as mine now do.

So it was, so it is today, so it will be tomorrow.

The Circling Vultures
Canowicakte Akule

I am Canowicakte Akule, The Son of Yiska Akule & Meda Akule, I am of my mother’s Tribe Weirwrath. We returned from our triumph in the south to see the vultures circling the old chief. Even old Buckongahelas is worthy of more respect.

The wise one, Silje, was offended as well and struck one of the vultures to show her disapproval. This wasn’t however the depth of their disrespect as one “Would be Chief” struck Silje, and displayed to all to see his craven ways!

The old gods deliver their retribution through Honovi as she laid low the fool, scattering the rest of the vultures. I am saddened by the cowardice of the sub-chiefs. Attika meditates in preparation for the challenges that he will face in becoming chief. Yet… Yet there is no worth challenger to face. Respect can not be earned, Honor can not be displayed.

Great tale can’t be told of triumphs over the unworthy!

Under Buckongahelas, weakness has been breed into the weirwraith. I sought the solace of the old gods, asking them to make this whelp of the Bloody Tears a worthy foe. I hope.. I pray for strength for a child from a tribe that is not my own! I am compelled to do this because Attika must be tested; a strong chief must triumph over a worth challenge.

Let the cast out deliver that which the wierwraith have failed to provide.

I am Canowicakte Akule. I have spoken. Now I listen.

Return to Camp

After our scouting mission was done and Beltebil had found strange black bladed weapons for us all, we returned to our temporary camp to find the Chief on his deathbed and two of the subchiefs arguing over his dying body. A highly offended Siljie spit on one of the arguing men and was immediately punched in the face. She didn’t even attempt to block it, which leads me to believe she does this for political gain, no doubt. Of course, any gain was lost as a furious Honovi put any analysis of the situation aside and delivered a neck breaking punch of her own. My inner joy that one of our favored subchiefs now had a much better chance of winning the upcoming game of thrones was soon diminished as a new challenger from the Bloody Tears appeared demanding a spot in our trial. How did he even know? There must be spies in or around our camp. As the tribe was in an uproar, I gathered my most trusted associates and promised favor to the one who killed this man. As the entirety of the tribe had voiced their displeasure at his appearance, I thought this to be a simple endeavor, but unfortunately, the wise woman found that he can change his shape, and for some reason feels the need to defend him near the fire, as if this suddenly makes him less of a threat. Wise indeed. I can only hope our subchiefs realize they must remove this threat before removing each other on the morrow.

Lost but Confident
"Lost! I can't wait to return to the calm of the tribe."
I really need to learn more about the ways of the woods- having been separated from the others, I have once again become lost. Fortunately, I’ve made it back to familiar ground, and I should be nearing camp soon. Thankfully, I’m sure the fight with Morgan Tyrell and then making peace with the Crows should see the end to violence for some time.

I look forward to returning to camp and having some peace and quiet.



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