Date: Thu, 26 May 2005 23:12:41 -0700
From: The Satyr <the.satyr@gmail.com>
Subject: The Stag & the Bear, Chap 3

Hey, all. I've gotten some fantastic feedback from this series, which
I greatly appreciate. Some of you have asked some questions about the
background of this setting, which I have shared with one or two folks.
But, in order to do so, as well as to update you when a new chapter of
this Cycle is available, I have created a group at the following
address:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/stag-god-cycle/

Join for updates, as well as the occasional short essay on parts of
the world, as well as a place to discuss the Cycle. I'd love to hear
from all of you, and perhaps get some ideas where you might like to
see these cycles go. Any good mythology is built to the needs of the
people it serves, and you are the people this Cycle is written for.

As usual, involves adult situations, with all that entails. No actual
sex this time around, but there are only two constants in the world of
the Stag God: sex and violence. You've been warned.

+++++++++++++++++++
This story is (c) The Oaken Satyr, 2005

The Stag & the Bear
  - A Continuation of the Cycle of Ashlan
++++++++++++++++++++

CHAPTER THREE: Thunder and Lightning

Ashlan strode toward the mountain, as he had for perhaps a week since
leaving the young orc brave at the foot of the unraveling tree-top
bower. The Stag God smiled at his memory of the young orc -- perhaps he
should have taken him along on the journey. There were several
mornings and nights he could have used the company, whether to please
his cock, or for simple speaking. The orc brave had a way of speaking
that reminded Ashlan of how humans spoke. Idly, Ashlan wondered if
there were human blood somewhere in the brave's ancestry.

In a short time, the setting sun stained the western horizon a bloody
hue, just as Ashlan reached the foothills that were the bottom of the
Mountain of the Bear God. Ashlan stopped, and in the crimson twilight,
craned his neck upward, sweeping his mighty antlers back to look up at
the Thunderpeak.

>From this vantage, he thought its tip looked like the head of a bear,
and as he watched, lightning flashed on its slope, and a mere
heartbeat later, thunder cracked like the roar of that mighty bear.
Ashlan arched a brow -- this place had been the home of a god for a
long, long time, it seemed.

He sniffed as he began climbing the mountain. Gone were the familiar
scents of normal animals in the mountains. This was unmistakably the
domain of an orcish beast-god, and his scent overpowered the place.
Most animals had fled, though not the bears.

As he journeyed, he saw bears several times, wandering over the wooded
slopes, turning over fallen logs and tearing up berry bushes. They
often stopped and looked at him as he passed. Ashlan wondered if the
Bear God was perhaps capable of seeing him through the eyes of these
bears, but dismissed the idea.

Not because it wasn't possible, of course, but because it didn't
matter -- the Bear God knew he was here. Ashlan could sense the Bear
God of the Thunderous Paws at the peak of the mountain, so surely that
much older god could already sense him.

After several hours, Ashlan became aware that he was being followed.
He was sure that some of the bears he kept spotting were actually the
same bear. He grinned, and broke into a slight jog. His powerful frame
carried him far in short order, and behind him, he heard the sound of
a great bulk begin crashing through the underbrush. He glanced over
his shoulder to see the bear loping along after him. He noted that it
wasn't trying to catch up to him -- it was simply pacing him.

It was then that he noted the skies overhead had become quite dark as
he moved up the mountain's face, and the smell in the air was of
lightning-rich clouds, heavy with rain. More than that, however, his
keen senses picked up something else -- his progress was being followed
by yet another bear.

He glanced to his left, where he could glimpse the tawny red-brown fur
of another bear. He stopped for a moment, and the beast pursuing him
came into view. No, that one was grey-black, with a light grey muzzle
and face, and similar marked paws. It looked at him, skidding to a
halt and roared at him.

Ashlan's eyes narrowed. The things were trying to herd him. He leapt
upon a stump, the remnants of a tree struck by lightning, and roared
his defiance at it. It looked at him, and then looked beyond him, to
where the second one was now just emerging from the cover of the
trees.

Together the two roared, their cries echoing off the mountainsides
like thunder. Silence lay heavy behind those echoes, and for a moment,
it seemed as if the whole world held its breath. Ashlan watched the
two of them come nearer, and being circling, keeping their distance.
He maintained his distance from them, watching to see which of the two
charged first.

These were no stupid beasts. They moved like clever warriors, trying
to lure him into a position where one of them was at an advantage to
attack him, where he must ignore one in order to deal effectively with
the other. He tracked them, however, countering their movements with
his own maneuverings.

It wasn't until the two of them roared, and were answered by a roar
behind him that he realized they were setting him up to be attacked by
a third.

The snow-white bear charged him, launching itself down the slope at
him. Quickly, he saw that the two others were a little too far away to
reach him quickly, so he turned his back to them to face the onrushing
pale bear. It closed on him on all fours, but reared up, flashing
terrible fangs and claws the moment before it hit him with the power
of an avalanche.
He dove at it as it reared, and drove his hands, clenched like claws
deep into the fur on the thing's underbelly and threw himself back. He
landed on his back, but in doing so overbalanced the white bear,
pulling it down with him and onto the tops of his lower legs.

With a roar, he straightened his legs and pulled with the clenched
fistfuls of pale fur, and the bear sailed over him, directed by
Ashlan's assault, but propelled by its own charge. It tumbled several
times uncontrollably, rolling clumsily down the embankment, just
slightly past the other two bears, who skidded their own charges to a
halt, to watch their paler brother slide past.

They padded silently over to it, as it rose to its feet and shook
itself angrily. It roared, then, and a crack of thunder answered it,
and the heavy rain began to pour down in sheets.

Suddenly the two forward bears, the grey-black one and the reddish one
began to change. At first, Ashlan thought that they were simply moving
oddly, twitching and shaking themselves, but soon, he saw that their
actual forms were warping. He blinked once, and then again, unsure
what he was seeing in the grey haze of the heavy rain.

"Shifters," he whispered to himself. He walked several steps towards
them, close enough to see that the third one, the pale one, was
likewise changing. Where the forward two were growing in size,
becoming powerfully built humanoid-ursine creatures, monsters built
for war, the white one was transforming itself into its human form.

Or rather, its orcish form, for the beast became an older orc, with a
shock of long braided hair the same hue as its bear-form's fur. It
bore powerful iron bracers, limned in copper decorations in the shape
of lightning bolts, around its wrists, and at its thick leather belt
hung a huge copper-headed hammer.

The two others, in their massive nine-foot war forms began to circle
around him, each of them moving in opposite directions. He stepped
forward.

"Peace to you, shifters," Ashlan called, and the two circling him
paused, their terrible fanged heads turning to see what the orc did.
"I hold you and your god no quarrel. I seek only to speak with him,
and learn from him."

"Go from this place, stag-god," the orc bellowed, reaching down to
brandish the hammer at his side. "This is a holy place, and you
profane it with your presence!"

Ashlan narrowed his eyes as the orc raised his fists skyward. The
felt, rather than heard, the first peal of thunder, and then the orc
levin-caller pulled down a bolt of lightning into his huge bracers,
arcing lightning playing over the copper inlay.

"Begone!" he bellowed and pointed at Ashlan, who was already in
motion. Lightning struck the spot where Ashlan had only just been
standing, turning it black and filling the air with the stench of
ozone. The shaman's warriors bellowed their challenges at Ashlan and
closed quickly.

Ashlan lowered his head a split second before he struck the darker of
the two shifters, and he felt the impact in his neck as his powerful
antlers buried themselves deeply in the werebear's gut. It roared, a
cry of agony, and fell backward. Ashlan tackled the thing to the
ground and whipped his head sideways, tearing a horrible gash into the
massive creature's abdomen, and blood spattered to the ground around
them with the rain.

He planted one foot on the slightly upraised head of his downed
opponent and leapt into the air, though it seemed the rain and winds
tried their best to keep him on the ground. He crossed the distance
between himself and the shaman quickly, and came down foot-first,
kicking the shaman soundly in the chest. The blow would have shattered
the breastbone of a lesser foe -- as it was, the shaman gasped and flew
backward several feet, slamming his hands into the ground, where the
arcs of electricity fled him.

Ashlan turned just in time to see the tawny shifter bearing down on
him. He braced himself as the beast slammed into him, cracking his
ribs as it wrapped mighty limbs around him, hugging him. The beast
drove its claws into his back and only an arm, raised just before the
beast wrapped him in its embrace, prevented that terrible maw from
biting into this throat. As it was, the bear-muzzle bit into the
muscle of his powerful arm, which bled freely, but did not break.

With all of his strength, Ashlan inhaled, expanding his mighty chest
and then quickly exhaled, allowing the beast's strength to collapse
his ribcage, giving him just enough room to maneuver. Planting a foot
in the massive torso of the werebear, Ashlan kicked outward, freeing
himself from the embrace. With his free hand, he pushed himself off of
the creature's shoulder, while it continued to bite down on his other
arm.

In one smooth motion, the Stag God swung himself around the creature's
neck. His captured arm quickly turned into a choking one, soon joined
by his other to throttle the beast. His weight dragged the monster
backward, toppling it, and when his feet hit stone and mud, Ashlan
quickly jerked upward with all his strength.

He was rewarded with the terrible sound of snapping bone, as the
creature's body tried to fall in one direction while Ashlan forced its
skull to go another. The werebear made a small choking sound and then
was silent, and fell to the ground.

Ashlan looked around for the shaman as he noticed that the beast at
his feet was beginning to transform into a naked orc. Its broad
muscular chest was marred by scar tissue and ink, where the bite of
the Bear God had transformed it into a skin-shifter, and those marks
were tattooed around to highlight the honor it had been chosen for in
the eyes of his tribe.
He looked around and saw that the other he'd killed had already
likewise changed back into an orc. Unfortunately, he didn't see the
shaman on the outcropping above them raise his copper hammer high. The
flash of lightning above him pulled his attention upward, but it was
too late.

Ashlan's world became white heat, ozone and terrible, burning pain as
the shaman called lightning down on him. He fell to his knees,
convulsing, trying to stand.

The shaman called a second bolt of white-hot levin down on him, and
sent him sprawling. The shaman looked down and smiled tuskily,
enjoying his victory as the form of the Stag God didn't move, save
where whisps of smoke rose in the lessening rain.

He looked upward. It was a good thing, too -- he'd had to pull too much
power from the storm, smothering it. Most storms had only so much
power to give a levin-caller before they died out, and he looked
upward as this one did just that. The winds had ceased howling and the
rain became a simple, steady drizzle, rather than the sheeting
downpour it had been.
When he looked down, Ashlan wasn't where he lay just a few seconds ago.

Panic gripped his chest as the shaman whipped his head from side to
side, looking for the horned god. He spotted him, but not quick enough
to do anything about it. The burnt and blackened form of the muscled
god leapt up at him from beneath the outcropping, slamming his fist
into the shaman's face, shattering teeth and crunching bone.

The shaman howled in pain, a wild sound that was quickly cut off as
the horned god's fist found the orc's throat. The orc fell, sprawling,
and the change was upon him. He began to sprout fur and his flat face
began to distort, growing the muzzle of a mighty bear.

But the change took time, time Ashlan had no intention of giving the
bastard shaman. He leapt on the prone orc, lowering his head, and
drove the Seven Tines of Godhood deep into the orc's bowels, killing
him. The transformation stopped, and then quickly fell away as the orc
sounded his death rattle and then slumped.

Ashlan collapsed next to him and wept from the pain of his seared
body. He knew that he couldn't afford to sleep, for fear of what the
Bear God may send against him next, but he was denied the luxury of
that choice as he passed out.