The clouds were clear, allowing the moonlight to shine upon the Murderous Island. One steep cliffs overlooking the Wrecker’s Bay, Nilda sits quietly, book in hand. The evening was far too early for hunting. However, she was patient. She breathes in the warm air, casting a look at the sea. The way the water caught the light and crashed on the cliffs was relaxing. Beauty in the turbulent way of nature. Deadly, but mesmerizing.

After taking the scene in, she opens it up to a spot midway through. The saga was from Berserk Island. It followed the story of a man, sailing into Blood Spit Bay to take on the dragons there. The prose flows like honey, sweet and slow. However, she fails to understand the idea of losing all control like that. To be too much in a rage to not understand that one is injured. For her, fighting was thought-out and calculated. One didn’t make a swing without knowing their next move afterward.

The sound of rocks tumbling and the scraping of claws could be heard not too far below where the tribeswoman sat. It was faint almost like the pitter pater of a rodent of some sort. Water rats were common on the island; big as cats some of them were…and nasty. Two more sets of claws fallowed it. A little head soon popped up over the cliffs edge; round and bulbous with large yellow eyes. A small chortle like whistle chirped from its mouth. Its head delicately tilted to the side as it stared at the two legged bonenapper.

Nilda sets down her book as she hears something similar to a rat scurry up the cliffs. Silently, she grabs a dagger and gets up into a squatting position. Despite having a bad bite, rats could be easily handled though. Quickly grab the nape, and then bring the dagger swiftly across the neck. Then she would have bait for bigger game. As the creature pops up and looks her straight in her eyes, she holds her stance, motionless except for her breathing. It was most certainly not a rat, but a terrible terror. Well, it was not much of a dragon, but a dragon nonetheless. Stupid thing should know by the corpse on her head what she is. She explodes into motion, attempting to grab the thing by the snout to keep the mouth closed, before dragging it closer to her, so to secure it underneath her arm. She makes sure to mind the claws.

It let out a shrill squeak as the two legger dived for it, it scurried down the side of the cliff avoiding her hand. While the big one was distracted another had taken the opportunity to jump up and grab hold of the book which was left aside, and proceeded to rip the cover off with its jaws and make sort of a book jerky of it….knowledge tasted delicious. Another chortled nearby; coughing up a small spark or two of amusement. The one that was chased down the cliff jutted its head up to take a nip at the nasty two leggers fingers. Two leggers always seemed to forget terrors traveled in packs.

The unpleasant sound of ripping makes Nilda’s eyes grow wide. She wasn’t done with that book, and there was no worse offense than destroying literature. She brings her hand back before the thing manages to bite a finger, and focuses on the beast that has chosen to wrong her. Not just her, but the world by removing a source of knowledge and history.

Three terrible terrors. Curious creatures, she wonders if they will fall for a feint. She had a coin or two somewhere. She sheaths her dagger and reaches into a pocket, producing a metallic object and throwing a short distance away from her. If the creatures are sufficiently distracted, she would take out a blowgun and three darts.

The one enjoying the tastes of knowledge looked up when something shiny was pulled. It chortled and darted out towards the shiney bauble. The one on the cliff darted up and through the two leggers leg, grabbing the book once more and took off flying back over the cliff with its tasty new treat. Its wings beating fast as the chortling one fallowed it. The one that had eaten the book however was fully distracted with its new shiny.

Nilda looks down and narrows her eyes at the beast that runs past her, steals the already ruined book, and heads out over the water. The book eater deserved this more though. She loads a poison dart, and shoots the one staring at the shiny object. She loads another dart, and aims at the one holding the book. It was a bit of a distance, but it was worth a shot. The book was doomed to a terrible fate no matter what though. That was unfortunate.  However, falling into a beautiful landscape was a better death than being ripped apart by tiny dragons.  Whether the dart hit or missed that one, she would go to check on the book-eater. The chortling one was lucky this day.

The one playing with the shiny let out a squeal as the sharp object pierced its hard hide. Within moments it was on the ground twitching as froth formed in its mouth; slowly causing it to die of asphyxiation. Not a pleasant way to go, but the process took about a minute. The dragon flying off with the book, hearing the squeal looked back. It chirped in alarm and dropped the book narrowly avoiding one of the sharp pointies. It and the chortler chose to retreat as fast as their little wings could carry them. The book fell down to the sea below.

Inter-tribe relations….always a fun task….She was still running damage control caused by the previous leader. This was his old tribe; and frankly he had not left on the best of terms; considering he tried to oust the clan leader before he had left. But this tribe kinda had the enemy of my enemy is my friend thing going on. Aria was determined to strengthen that relation; after all the Murderous clan was not one who you wanted as your enemy.

So on to a boat she went to sail across the sea to her close neighbors on the Murderous Island. Oh how she hated boats; she loved the water but hated the rhythmic ups and downs and back and forth of a boat. It always made her a little green around the gills. So it was safe to say she was grumpy for most of the day long sail it took to reach the island. The island itself was within site on the horizon just a prick upon the open sea. The tall island looming high above all else. They would reach the island in a half an hour or so. Which meant it was time for another unpleasant process of looking pretty for the neighbors.

Aria went below decks to get changed; the simple oversize well-worn tunic and short legged breeches just weren't going to cut it. When she emerged her wild garnet locks were brushed into soft waves in a half up style tied with small braids. Small gold beads and charms decorated the ends of the braids. The rest of her hair was left to tumble down in soft braids down past her tiny waist. Her clothes consisted of a stiff collared black dress with gold embroidered hems. Long slits went up either side of the dress up to the top of her hips allowing free movement. Under that she wore tight fitting black leather pants that had numerous straps to them. A dagger was clearly seen being strapped to her upper thigh. Leather knee high boots topped with black fur was also seen. On top of the dress a fitted black leather jerkin with gold accents sat in a corset like fashion. Leather pauldrons were worn on her shoulders as well forming half of a leather collar around her neck. A leather belt lined with daggers and pouches was wrapped around her waist, she forwent the usually ones that crossed her chest as a sign of peace. Upon her shoulders a large black bear fur cloak clasped with her clans insignia in gold. Underneath the cloak a large red jewel could be seen clasped on a gold chain. On her back a large sword hung, the only thing on her that bore silver. Its hilt could be seen stretching out in angelic wings, with a large sapphire set right in the middle of the hilt. The rest of it was sheathed away in a leather scabbard that was strapped to her back.

The finery was a bit much for her; however as clan leader she was expected to represent her tribe. At least on trip visits…..rest of the time she was permitted to dress as she wished. As she had emerged the dock was in site. She waited as her guard exited off first and went to fallow. As she was stepping off the ship something large and heavy …and frankly a little slimy hit her head.

”By Casters twisted tails!”

A curse that was often muttered by sailors when something unexpected happened; usually taboo to use a god’s name in a curse however Aria was well known for her foul mouth at times. Her blue green eyes blinked as the slimy torn object fell into her hands. It was a book…that definitely seen better days. She glanced up the tall rock face to see two terrible terrors fleeing for their lives…The moon light illuminating the blazing scar across her face. Her eyes narrowed at the fleeing duo as she realized what probably had taken place.

As soon as the creature stops moving, Nilda reaches down to pick it up. She could probably take the hide and fashion it into a belt or pouch. Use the bones to decorate her armor somehow. Brushing the frothing saliva of its mouth, she tucks the body underneath her arm. She walks back to where she lived, walking over rope bridges that sway a little in the breeze.

As she walks back, she spots a ship headed their way. An unusual sight. The Murderous Tribe didn’t entertain outsiders that often. And few felt like venturing Wrecker’s Bay. Their tribe wasn’t the only thing that claimed lives. For those who didn’t know these waters, they were likely to head straight into the rocks. These crew seemed to be navigating the bay fine, however. She looks at the insignia on the sails. Three changewings in a circle. Bog-Burglars. Allies for whatever that meant. They would need help travelling the difficult and confusing cliffs.

She sighs and looks at the tiny dragon and then back at the boat. She had just enough time to skin the thing and begin curing the hide. She quickens her pace back home. At home, she carefully removes the hide before placing it into a saltwater bath. Done with her work for now, she thinks about getting dressed up. She had her headdress, hide armor, decorative skulls, blowgun, darts, daggers, and longsword. Her hide armor wasn’t the best in the island, being a work in progress. She had decided to cured all of the skins herself. However, all suits of armor were constantly worked on and perfected. In many ways, the suits were a display of one’s experience. For her own armor, dragon bone vertebrae line the back of the armor, and rib bones covered her sides. There is a zippleback skull surrounded by black feathers over each shoulder. She supposed it was one of those times that called for gold jewelry, putting on a few necklaces and cuffs.

She checks herself over to make sure is not missing anything, and then heads down the coast to where boats could dock. She keeps to the dark shadows created by the cliffs’ jagged edges, watching what the crew does. She makes sure to keep some distance between her and the Bog-Burglars.

The book was in bad condition however it was nothing she couldn’t fix, so she tucked the broken piece under her arm and stepped off the ship. As she left the ship Aria looked around….well the Murderous tribe wasn’t known for their hospitality towards outsiders. The docks were relatively empty; she watched as her crew looked around confused. Arias directly went towards the shadows, and listened for any odd splashing in the waters below…a quirk of a smile appeared on her lips as her eyes locked with a young woman. Aria herself remained silent but winked as she went to the end of the dock closer to the water and hopped up on to a post where she sat. Just waiting for her crew to realize they were not alone.
Aria was patient; and knew her crew would eventually figure it out. But until they ‘scouted’ the area she wasn’t allowed to go forth. Plus it was good for them to learn. But it was time like this that she preferred to travel just with her second or third…things went faster between the three of them. It wasn’t long before one of them spotted what she had and gave the nod to move forward.
With that Aria stood and walked over to the younger women; a larger smile on her face as she stopped a few feet and bowed.

”Ello, I didn’ see you there, you blend in quite well. Aria Wurud of the Bog Burglars come to pay our respects to de Chief of the Murderous Island. I believe they were expecting us.”

Her tune was cheerful and lighthearted; with thick accent of a Bog Burglar.

Nilda cannot determine the leader of the group. All of them seemed well-armed, but only one of them carried a trophy with them. And that trophy was only a single bear skin. She had brought her pride to greet them, but they did not do the same. Her eyebrows furl. In books, she had read that others wore more jewels and gems to express their station in life. If she went by those standards, the woman with redhair would most likely be the leader of the group.  It was a hike upwards, and the rigid corset would inhibit her movement though. At least, the red-haired woman brought warm boots and seemed to be carrying her book.

She tilts her head, trying to hear what the Bog-Burglar Leader is saying through that thick accent. The sounds seemed off and emphasis seemed to be put in the wrong places. No wonder Bog-Burglar poetry was always strange. She doesn’t quite know what to do with compliment that Aria gives her. She should probably return the gesture. “Your pelt looks of worthy game. I am Nilda Ochoa, heir to chiefdom. Daughter of Adela and Garaile Ochoa. I will lead you up the cliffs.” Her own accent is probably just as thick to the outsiders. Pointing at the book, she adds, “Also, that belongs to me.” She doesn’t entirely expect to get the book back from a Bog-Burglar. Thieves were coming to visit, so she expected a few things to go missing.

Arias eyebrows arched with amusement when she commented on her large pelt; she took the corner of it and inspected it….bits of the fur was still singed from when she got it. Aria chuckled and shrugged.

”Actually not really….however there is an interesting story attached to it that involved a couple of dragons and a paint brush…and unfortunate location of a family of bears….BUT HEY I got two boots out of the incident to”

Aria beamed proudly at the fur lined boots, her toes wiggling inside them. The boots now indicated that they might have been made out of two younger bears. A couple of her older entourage face palmed as they too remember the exact story that accompanied that cloak. Somewhere in the crowed there was a mutter of ‘damn forest fire took all day to put out’. Aria just stood there with the beam still plastered on her face. Her smile left when Nilda indicated towards the slimy book that was tucked safely under her arm. She pulled it out and held it up.

”This? Why in Sadens grace did you let it become dragon fodder then? Dragon spit doesn’t exactly wash off ya know.”

Her voice was slightly stern as she held the book; it was a good think she knew it had been dropped by a dragon. After all…wouldn’t look good for the girl to go chucking things at a visiting chiefs head. She brought the book up slightly and examined it a bit more carefully, her long slender fingers flipping through the delicate pages. The book would need a new binding and some of the sewing would need to be redone…and a page or two replaced..

”Usually I have a rule if something is chucked at me I keep it…. However considering the circumstances”

She held out the book to the girl with a smile etched on her face.

”You can have it back or I can take it with me and have it repaired. We have a fairly good library on the island.”

Nilda looks down at the fur-lined boots and back up at Aria. The random deaths of a few bears due to dragon flames was not an interesting story in her opinion. It was a happenstance not worth mentioning. Her expression is neutral, attempting to mask the fact that she could not care less about it.

She closes her eyes as the other woman berates her over the book. The claim to ownership was not worth the exasperation. “What happened has happened,” she said, having moved past the incident since punishment had been served. The story was not worth reliving either. She looks surprised as Aria’s willingness to hand the book back over and the offer of repair. As much as she did wish to finish it, it would be better to see it repaired whether it was returned to her or not.  She probably had the largest book collection on the island, and she lacked the tools to restore it properly.  “I would be grateful if you could do that.”          

She nods to the crew, “Is everyone ready to go? I do not plan on coming back down here.”  She was being nice by playing the guide once.  This was more of a welcome than most of the tribe ever gave.

Aria smiled knowingly when the girl decided to let the book come with her, she was a lover of knowledge based on that. That was something they could both share. With that Aria unhooked her large bear skinned cloak and wrapped it around the book to help protect it from further damage. She then turned to her group and handed the wrapped parcel over to one of the others.

”See that this gets back to my father; he’ll know what to do with it.”

A group of them nodded and turned to re board the ship; taking the book with them. Only three older members remained with Aria. She worked better in a smaller group anyhow. She watched them board the ship then turned back to Nilda.

”Only these three will accompany me up the island; I am aware that your people do not host guests often. I do not wish to overextend your hospitality.”

She motioned for Nilda to lead the way, indicating they were ready to go.

”So Miss Ochoa; tell me more about the game to which you decorate yourself in. I have been told they are something of great importance to your people.”