Diaman's DnD Diary

Chapter 7: Ice Lands' Tragedy Forgotten In Snow part III

There were lots of local Shaman oddities. For example, there was a strong tradition of keeping their own form of Spirit Companion. Usually, as you gain more power, you decide which direction to take and so your Spirit Companion might take on a different shape. The shape of the Earth Snake, the Warding Bear and so on... Spirit Companions of the people in the village, however, never changed their shape and even the spells they used came from the original shapes of their Spirit Companion. Grisha called it the "Personification of a Spirit", a way of better understanding ourselves and the Spirits who'd decided to intertwine their destiny with ours. Thanks to the Clan people having a close connection with nature and the Spirits for decades, maybe even centuries, their relationship with Spirits and the closeness to them had always been all around them from a very young age. So the children were able to call onto the Spirit Companions as soon as the age of 10.

It is very common for the Spirit Companions to take different shapes at the beginning of one's Shaman route, mostly depending on the person's character. This form is especially strong when you call onto it as a youngling and might have the tendency to stay preserved as it originally was, maybe with few changes.

For example, Mami's Spirit Companion was originally a sparrow. Now, 20 years later, it's a flock of sparrows.

I have to say, I was quite taken back how variable the shapes and forms of Spirits are. I've never read about squirrels, foxes, song birds and such. Maybe it was due to the fact that not every person with Shaman abilities actually went to battle monsters and their Companions then didn't have to be all scary looking and sometimes they were actually needed for various tasks in the village, both the small and the big ones. Besides it was common for the kids to play with their or their older friends' Companions.

...

I was given a chance to stay with Mami's older brother Far'mer. He was a Shaman/Hunter with a big long-haired dog as his Spirit Companion.

Right after my arrival, I was abducted by local children and stripped of all that I could spare, especially my food supplies from the South. But Far'mer Haarlaar was a very nice and welcoming host, so I didn't fear hunger. He let me settle in his hut on the Western outskirts of the village. He lived there by himself ever since his wife died while giving birth last winter. Far'mer was a quiet fellow, calm in nature and an almost miraculous archer. It didn't matter whether there were abundance or not enough prey to hunt, he always brought home something. Nevertheless, he'd never hunt for sport. He made sure both him and his sister's family had enough to eat and sometimes he'd sell a few pieces in the village.

I felt lucky that Far'mer was interested in the stories of Narradia and further South, at least, I didn't have to feel too bad about me imposing on him this much. I have to say, the story of a Cannibal-Librarian had become quite the popular one wherever I went. Though sometimes, I had to explain what a librarian is...

To ne true, Far'mer was my dream man. When I woke up, there was warm breakfast waiting for me and him greeting me good morning. Then I made tea that I'd brought with me from Narradia. He seemed to have come to like it very quickly. The conversation was scarse, but if I asked anything, I always got an answer.

"Tell me, Far'mer," I asked one day, while warming up my feet by the fire, since until then I was out the whole day in the forest with hunters to observe their customs. "Why does every hunter here have such colourful flight-feathers? I haven't seen any parrots around here." I raised my eyebrows, confirming that I do know that parrots live nowhere near here.

"Well, several reasons, really." Far'mer tied up his long blond hair in a ponytail and rolled up the sleeves of his green tunic, stirring venison stew in a pot.

I shifted myself for a basket of berries and started cleaning them one by one of stalks and bits of dirt.

"First of all, since there's snow everywhere, it's easier to locate the arrow if the flight-feathers aren't a natural colour. Secondly," Far'mer sat down next to me, joining in on the cleaning. "There aren't many birds with feathers good enough for the arrows, so you protect every arrow you have. Every hunter dyes the arrows a specific colour or colour combination, showing which arrow belongs to whom."

"There's no fighting over the arrows then."

"Exactly," he nodded.

"You said, you dye them. How? Yours are blue..."

"Well, we use everything that makes colour, really... But my flight-feathers aren't dyed. Some time ago, I went with the others to look for work in the South. I never went as far as your country but the place where we looked for job had birds with blue feathers. I simply stacked on those. Their meat was good, too."

Yes, Far'mer was always practical.

While talking to him and the others or joining the kids on their knowledge walks with the Chieftain, I managed to get to know the Clan and their customs a bit better, writing everything down for future references.

...

Lily was a sweet big-eyed Elvish girl who wore her long black hair in twin tails. She was two years younger than me and we understood each other quite well. As Grisha's granddaughter, Lily inherited great talent for Shamanry. However, at an early age, it was the Spirts who found her first. Being a very sensitive medium for spiritual powers, she attracted very strong spirits who kept attacking her and being very powerfull, her physical body was unable to contain them well.

Such a condition had a name. People in the Shaman village called such children Spirit Children and not many of them lived past the age of 18, constantly suffering from intermittent fevers, progressively weakening body and sometimes even actual attacks of spiritual posession.

The only way to save someone like that was to recapture and properly bind the Spirits' power to a Spirit Companion form during an Initiation ritual. However, this method only helped once in 3 children. The rest could even die if the ritual were to be done too forcefully.