Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Conjurers of Familiar Spirits II

Those Akin to an Animal Spirit

Fantasy equal: Ranger

You are fascinated by how one side of a mountain could be so different from the other. For years you have hiked up the northern slopes of the Misty Mountains, but today you decided to venture forth into the unknown; the southern slopes. The majestic Misty Mountains casts its shadow to the south. Here the soil is moist, the air is damp and trees grow much denser. The plant life in general seems richer. A multitude of different kinds of tiny ferns and mosses can be found here. Mushrooms and toadstools are bountiful and pop up almost everywhere. You find your surroundings enchanting and expect a fairy or faun to reveal itself at any moment.

You use your trusty walking stick to ascend up your new favourite hiking trail. The terrain is diverse. So far you have climbed multiple steep hills, rested at an even grass field then just to find yourself in a grove a few paces farther. Up ahead you take notice of a cluster of large jagged rocks jutting from the ground. It’s as if the gods have practiced their archery kills here, using the mountain as the target. You need to get onto one of those. It is a prime perching spot to have a quick snack.

You choose the tallest of the rocks and start climbing. Its jaggedness makes the task easy and in no time you roost on a step close to the top. You pop a couple of apples from your backpack and start munching away as you marvel at the natural beauty that is the valley below.

You have a long way to go still and decide to cut your break short. You steadily lower yourself down from the rock. About half way, as luck would have it, you lose your footing. You’re caught off balance, unable to save yourself from falling. You land on your left leg. At first you believe you are unscathed from the fall, but as you place weight on your leg, you realize something is wrong. The pain is excruciating. Your heart sinks as you realise you are now in serious trouble.

You skip on one leg down the way you came. The impact from each skip causes your hurt leg to throb. The grovelling earth makes the task of heading back down even more daunting. You sit down, hoping you would think of something to get you out of your predicament. You poke at your ankle and assess you must have broken your ankle.

From the corner of your eye you spot an enormous bird swooping down from the sky. It spreads its great wings to decelerate its dive. With a few forceful flutters of its strong wings it perches itself at the top of one of the protruding rock. It is a majestic creature armoured with bronze feathers that glisten in shades of green as it moves under the gaze of the sun. It talons and beak looks both powerful and sharp. He silently peers at you with his piercing eyes, examining your every movement.

“Mister Eagle, I don’t suppose you would go find me some help, instead of eyeing me like I’m snack?” you mockingly ask of the Eagle.

The eagle immediately launches itself into the sky and within moments it swiftly speeds from sight.

“Some company would have been nice,” you think to yourself.

You decide to remove your shirt to fasten it around your ankle. Fortunately you have a blanket and one ration of food in your backpack for such unplanned disasters. You were a fool not to let anyone know of your plans however. It will soon be dark and it seems like you’ll have to spend the night here. I better find some firewood and cover for the night. Tomorrow then you’ll attempt the descent down the mountain.

As you lift yourself up you witness the return of the eagle.

“You’re back, my fine feathered friend! Came back to help me find some cover?”

The eagle cocks it head in a different direction. You follow its glance. In the distance you notice a dark figure approaching. It is a man sprinting down the grassy slope! You are saved! He nimbly manoeuvres through and over obstacles at great speed. His great mane of dark locks dangles and swings from side to side with each swift stride he takes. Within seconds he comes to a halt in front of you, panting slightly.

“I don’t suppose this man is your master whom you have summoned to aid me?” you ask the eagle yet another rhetorical question.

“Indeed she has,” the mysterious man responds in her stead. He reaches his arm at the eagle. She in turn hops gradually from his forearm up until she perches herself at her rightful spot; the shoulder of her master.

You watch the pair with great admiration and ask, “how did you manage to train such a majestic wild animal?”

“She is no wild animal. She is my Animal Companion; my equal in the animal spirit realm. Her name is Sylvane and I am called, Thorne,” the man says. “You hurt your ankle. Let me help you.”

Thorne removes a dagger from the inside of his left boot. He then jogs to the edge of a forest nearby. This is when you notice the great longbow strapped to his back and the quiver of arrows his mane of hair has hidden from sight. He returns with a few wet branches. He crouches in front of you and gently takes hold of your leg. You take a whiff of him. Strangely enough his scent is of fragrant ferns. Almost like how a forest would smell like after rain has fallen. You look at his face. He avoids eye contact. From within his keen, dark eyes you observe gentleness and kindness along with his timidity and mystery. You find it peculiar how his brushes of eyebrows are shaped like the wings of a bird. He has a sharp, majestic nose, cracked lips and wears his unkempt beard rather well.

He unties the shirt you’ve clumsily wrapped around your ankle. He touches your ankle at a few pressure points and steals glances of your facial. He nods. You guess he has now realized you have a broken ankle. You think to yourself he could just have asked. He rips your shirt to shreds. He could have asked before doing that as well. From one of the many pouches on his leather tunic he removes a clump of a plant with tiny green leaves and petite white, star-shaped flowers. He places this in his mouth and masticates it to a pulp. This he spits onto fingers of his right hand and gently massages his personal medicine into your ankle. You do not know whether to find this a bit on the gross side, or a bit on the remarkable side. Your thoughts tilt to the latter as you feel the herb easing your pain.

“Does that feel better,” Thorne asks you.

“Indeed!,” you respond.

“Good,” Thorne says, smiling faintly.

He wraps some of the shreds of clothing around your ankle. Next he measures the branches he had fetched against lower leg. He cuts two branches at this length and ties it to your leg with the remaining shreds. He does a much better job with the wrapping than you have done.

“I’ll take you to my cabin. It’s perilous to head to town so late. Dangerous beings emerge in this area at night,” he says.

“I would appreciate that, and thanks for your help thus far.” You say.

Sylvane, who has sat on his shoulder all this time, dives from his shoulder and ascends into the darken skies. Thorne helps you up and suggests you lean on him. He removes his weather-beaten cloak from his being. As he does so you notice the tufts of chest heir emerging from beneath his tunic where his cloak had been tied. He wraps the cloak around you to shelter you from the early evening chill. You mention not you have a blanket in your backpack, for you much rather want his cloak around your naked torso.

It takes you hours of uncomfortable hiking before you reach his cabin. Of course his cabin had to be on higher ground, so you are absolutely exhausted. You did not speak to him, for you were unable to due to your embarrassing panting and heavy breathing, where he is as silent as a mouse. Even his striding is absolutely inaudible.

His quaint cabin is at the edge of the forest and overlooks the entire valley. The breathless moon watches over the valley and illuminates it in its silver embrace. In the far distance you notice the flickering lights from town. It would have been a long way down. Thorne almost carries you up the few stairs, swings the door open and lowers you down onto a pile of pelts covering the floor in the one corner of his cabin. Your eyes shut and refuse to open again. Fatigue consumes your wakefulness and almost instantly you plunge into a deep slumber...

Later that evening you were awakened by the door opening. With weary eyes you watch Thorne place a lantern on the only table in his cabin. Carefully he removes his tunic and the green shirt he wears underneath to reveal his upper-body. In the blink of an eye Sylvane comes diving through the front door and you can swear she has just dived straight into Thorne’s chest. Where a mat of hair covered his chest in natural manly fashion, his chest hair now forms an eagle. The eagle’s head proudly peaks Thorne’s sternum, its wings reaches beyond his nipples and its body and ultimately its tail descend down his ripped abdomen. Did Thorne and Sylvane become one? With the image engraved in your head fatigue consumes you and you fall asleep once more. Soon Thorne stripped down to his loin cloth, locked the door, extinguished the light and rolled himself up in the remaining pelt next to you...

Dawn breaks in an array of golden colours. One by one these colours stretch across and illuminate the vale as the sun creeps up from behind the majestic mountain. Nocturnal beasts have returned home and birds and critters awake for their turn of foraging in the vale. You are awakened chirping and scuffling of these critters from outside. You get up and walk out the open door. Much to your amazement you find the clearing in front of the cabin to be swarmed by a great number of birds, tortoises, rabbits, badgers, squirrels and even several small antelope. You rub your eyes to make sure your eyes are not deceiving you. Nope, they’re still there. The racket has gone silent as every single critter peers at you.

You only notice Thorne in the midst of the chaos as he whispers several words in an unknown tongue. With his words spoken the chaos resumes. Thorne tosses the last seeds and berries he had with him amongst the animals and makes his way towards you. You are reminded of what you had witnessed the previous night as you notice the hairy eagle extended across his torso.

“Glad to see your ankle is better,” Thorne says. You have completely forgotten about your hurt ankle. You lift your foot and twist and turn it in different directions. It has healed wholly with no signs of being twisted the day before. “Come inside. I have saved us some nuts and berries for breakfast,” Thorne says as he touches your shoulder and leads you inside.

“Thanks for all you have done for me, Thorne. I have no idea how you have managed to heal my ankle so quickly. It is absolutely remarkable. There is something I need to ask you. The things I have seen... you are no mere woodsman, aren’t you? There is definitely something mystical about you. No man can tame a whole forest of animals you have done. And then there’s the incident with Sylvane and the peculiar shape of your chest hair. It’s in the shape of an eagle! Who or what are you exactly?” you ask of Thorne with a somewhat shaky voice.

“I am one of very few practicing rangers left in these lands. Our magic is somewhat limited, yet still my kin, like all other magical beings, were driven from society for being mystical, for being different. I have taken solitude and refuge here in the woods, high up in the mountains. Here is the only place I can be with nature, be safe and be myself,” Thorne says.

“We were told all magical beings are dangerous and there were quite a bit of emphasis placed on the power of druids and rangers, yet I have only experienced kindness from you thus far. I suppose not all magical beings are evil as the king proclaims?” you ask of Thorne.

Thorne smiles. “I knew you would understand. A friend of nature would! All rangers are trained and sworn to protect nature and all who dwell in her bosom. Yes, we have had our differences with humans, but that was only to protect Mother Nature from their destruction. It was one of the triggers for having us all exiled from civilization and even hunted. Not only was I afraid when Sylvane and I crossed paths with you, but my heart lifted as well when I sensed your spirit is not at all malevolent. It is our duty as rangers to help humans in need, but with all that has happened the last age, we of course are very cautious at revealing ourselves. I hope I have not scared you. I was planning on establishing you to who I really am by introducing you to my woodland friends. You were not supposed to see how Sylvane and I become one. It is rather heavy magic usage and I apologize that you had to witness that,” Thorne says.

“I find everything about your life as a ranger, your magical powers and your bond with your animal spirit fascinating. I’m somewhat frightened; I have to admit, but only due to the unknown and unfamiliarity towards magical people and beings. I sort of wish I could do some of what you can do,” you tell Thorne.

“It is customary that rangers train their sons and sometimes daughters as well the ways of nature. Fathers and their sons protect the same land as they pass the knowledge from one generation to the next. I don’t see myself ever taking a wife. There isn’t even one to be found for many a kilometres. I am rather desperate though, for our numbers are dwindling, which would leave Mother Nature at the mercy of destructive human kind. I would be willing to be a mentor to someone like you, were you interested in becoming one of nature’s allies,” says Thorne.

“Wow, someone like me?! But isn’t one born with magic? There’s no way I’ll be able to be a ranger. I suppose you could teach me how to hunt. Make use of a bow and maybe mentor me on some herb lore,” you say.

“You are correct; one needs to have a Mark of Magic to be trained in the schools of magic and the abilities gifted by a given mythical class. You may friend, have such a mark. I can sense it. You are a Servant of Nature, like me! And thus you have the potential to become a ranger or even a druid!” Thorne exclaims excitedly.

You are dumbfounded. Is it true? Are you really a magical being?

“There is a simple test you may perform, if you don’t believe me. Here is a seed. I place it on this sacred earth. For now it is but a mere, tiny seed, but with your help, it would grow into a healthy plant,” says Thorne. “A true Servant of Nature has the gift of being able to nurture both flora and fauna. Using a generous amount of mana, a druid or ranger is able to rapidly grow a plant from a seed. With the use of any of your bodily fluids, really and a rangers touch, you should be able to germinate this seed. Go ahead and spit on it and push it into the earth.”

You do as Thorne says. You reluctantly spit into your left hand, and with your right hand’s index finger, you swirl your spit a bit, scoop some of it up and firmly drive the seed into the soil. As you withdraw your soiled finger, the seed sprouts almost instantaneously. A slim green stem twirls up from the hole. Slowly grows taller, shoots out bare branches at first and next came leaves and ultimately the cycle is complete with a blooming shrub between you and Thorne. You marvel at it and the means by which this plant has been cultivated.

“I’ve done it! I’m a ranger!” you exclaim.

“All in due time!” Thorne responds giggling.

So follows several wondrous days of Thorne tutoring you, the budding ranger, on the ways of Nature. During this magical time you have learnt and achieved much, but were told this is but a drop in the ocean of what a ranger is capable of and with Thorne being young still himself, what he can teach you is rather limited. Soon, however, and much to Thorne’s amazement, you were able to cast powerful Druidic spells with little effort. Some of your favourites include the spells named Barkskin and Camouflage. Both these spells draw magic from Nature to alter the body. Barkskin alters your skin to become bark, which dramatically boost your resistance to all external elements other than fire. Camouflage, on the other hand, transfigures your being to mimic your surroundings and thus aid your stealth skills. Few have the natural vision to detect a skilled ranger aided by a powerful camouflage spell.

During your time spent with Thorne you have grown fond of him and how he has taken you under his wing. There have been times you wish you could simply embrace and kiss him, from sheer contentment in his presence which you now cherish so. You have decided to forsake your lonely existence in town and defend nature and all magical beings by Thorne’s side. Thorne has accepted your offer with open arms, literally as well, for that is the first time you have embraced each other. In his arms you feel utter bliss and hope more would come from this promising friendship.

Soon came the day where you need to put what you have learnt to action. The ancient winds carry murmurs of the king’s men infiltrating the forest on the quest of eliminating any magical beings they may find. As Nature’s servants, you and Thorne must both help. Upon casting your two favourite spells on both you and Thorne you make your way to the outskirts of the forest. Sylvane scouts ahead of you. Without any sign from Sylvane, Thorne knows she has found them and guides Thorne towards their location. You spot them in the distance; a party of ten mercenaries cutting down brushes and trees as they destructively make their way into the forest. Your eyes widen as you witness how one of the men cuts down a shrub to reveal a fairy circle. Some of the fairies escape, but you hear the faint cries of some trapped and cowering in the corner of their home. Instinctively both you and Thorne spring to action. Swiftly Thorne falls the immediate threat to the fairies as his arrow pierces the man’s throat. Soon the man closest to you collapses to the ground. Thorne does not have a clear shot of the rest of them, who now are alerted and enraged by the fall of their comrades.

You tap into your surroundings and knowing exactly where the remaining eight men are you call on the ancient trees to root, entwine and trap their foes. Like whips vines lash out at the mercenaries, bring them down the earth where the magnificent roots of the trees engulf and bury them in the earth.

“Well done!” Thorne exclaims. “In time Mother Nature will put their energy sources to good use. May their spirits be spared and reborn for the good of this earth.”

The fairies rejoice and bestow you with a fair amount of fairy dust. You are told with this amount of fairy dust you and Thorne will be able to levitate themselves for at least 5 minutes. You cannot wait!

On your return Thorne speaks of the rite you should perform to conjure your familiar spirit; “You have proven yourself to be a true servant of nature. The greatest gift bestowed on a Ranger is the companionship of his alter ego in the animal kingdom. I’m, of course, akin to the eagle and so Mother Nature has bonded my spirit to that of Sylvane, my familiar spirit. Her vision has greatly improved my skill with the bow and her swift flight has made me swift on foot. I already have an idea what animal you are akin to, but one never knows what Mother Nature has planned for us. I cannot wait to see how your appearance will alter as well. You look way too tame with your human appearance.”

“I cannot wait to become a full-fledged Ranger! Evildoers beware, or face the wrath of Nature’s Servants!” you shout aloud!

“That’s the spirit!” Thorne responds. “The rite though is a bit of a sensitive area and a bit unconventional. I’ll prepare you for what needs to be done, but since it is such a personal act, you should venture to a secluded area and perform the rite alone. I insisted to do it alone, for there was no way I would have let her guide the rite... you are required to take a tonic of various herbs and other earthy ingredients, which I’ll prepare. After taking the tonic you need to masturbate and ejaculate precisely at midnight. You’ll know it is midnight as soon as the local pack of wolves howls. You’ll need to time yourself to get it perfect, or the rite will fail and you’ll need to wait for the next full moon. I know, it probably sounds strange, but it is the natural way of conjuring your animal spirit for the very first time. Where your semen is sowed on the earth there your animal spirit will emerge and bond with your being. From then onwards you can become one or two separate entities at your own will by simply thinking of it. Are you up for it?”

“Of course I am!” you answer. “It sounds amazingly pleasurable meeting your animal spirit in such an erotic way. I cannot wait!”

The day of the rite is a day of meditation and self reflection. As you and Thorne gather the ingredients for the tonic you are to consume prior to the rite, the two of you make guesses as to what animal is to be your equivalent in the animal kingdom. You both agree upon a black wolf, for you resemble it the most to your reckoning. You too are somewhat hairy, are alert, loyal and have great endurance when it comes to the chase of the hunt.

That evening Thorne starts preparing the tonic and adds a multitude of ingredients into the cauldron mounted above a crackling fire. Each of these ingredients represents some magical association with that of the ranger, his magic, his bond to nature and his animal companion. A reptile scale, a bird’s feather and a tuft of fur is added to the concoction. Some soil, water, a petal of a fireflower and the seed of a dandelion is added next. The rest of the ingredients are unknown to you. With the drop of the last one into the cauldron, the mixture starts to bubble and glow in faint green. The bubbling soon subsides rendering the potion ready.

Thorne pours most of the potion into a phial and fastens the cork lid tightly. He places it in your hand and smiles as he asks “Are you ready for this, comrade? No getting cold feet, eh?”

“Certainly not. I’m ready to become one of Nature’s Allies,” you reply with a smile.

Near midnight you venture forth into the forest. Moonbeams gleaming through the canopy of the forest lights your path. You hear the faint noise of a wet twig snapping in the distance. You peer at where you believe the noise comes from. You sense no malevolence, only the creatures of the dark going about doing what they do. Soon you reach a forest clearing and deem this to be a good enough spot to perform your rite. You remove your boots, next your tunic and lastly your pants. You sit down on the soft grass; your legs stretched ahead of you and taking a deep breath as you look up at the radiance of the moon. Utterly sky-clad you almost bask in the moon, reflecting on what you are about to perform. You take your first sip of the potion, savouring its surprisingly pleasant taste before chugging most of down...

Almost instantaneously your pommel gems lift as your blade rises to glory. The potion must be some potent aphrodisiac! You grasp your and squeeze it, quite enjoying its hardness. You imagine you and Thorne together as you stroke your blade. Soon enough you can feel the nectar voyaging from your pommel gems to your blade. You almost fail at keeping your nectar within; the wolves have not howled yet. Moments later you clearly hear the lament of the local pack of wolves. Vigorously you stroke your blade now to reach the dramatic finale...

The delightful sensation of your climax is amplified tenfold. You shudder from sheer pleasure as volumes of steaming nectar are launched from your blade. Every stream of nectar splatters and amalgamate with the earth it comes in contact with. Finally your supernatural resources are spent. Breathing heavily from the ever satisfying experience you stare at the artwork you have created on the ground in front of you; the fusion of your seeds with the earth glows faint blue in the moonlight. Soon the glow augments and your seeds start to sprout in vines and leaves of a beautiful blue and silver colour. It forms a bud, which blossoms in a radiance of blinding light. You open your eyes as the brightness subsides. In front of you an owl peers at you with its massive, hypnotic eyes. You smile at her and you know she is smiling back. Instantly you agree you shall call her Athena.

You sense that Athena’s feelings and instincts are enmeshed with yours as the thoughts of “need to go hunting mice”, “find a hole in a tree” and “there’s something behind me somewhere” flashes through your mind. Your animal companion turns her head and suddenly swoops up in the air. You rapidly lift yourself up and together you investigate what is lurking nearby.

With her keen night eye she spots him almost immediately; it is Thorne! She pounces on Thorne as you literally tackle him to the ground, so glad are you to see him. On top of Thorne you at first unknowingly kiss him, so enchanted are you from the recent events. Only moments later you realize what you are doing. Slowly and embarrassed you release the lock of lips and ashamedly look Thorne in the eyes. Your heart lifts as he smiles after a long pause. He reels you in for more kissing. He caresses your bare back and soon fondles your butt cheeks. You feel his blade rise as you enjoy his manly taste...

Let us give our two rangers some privacy then. This theme is yet another one of my favourites. The loving relationship between a man and his animal companion is exceptionally attractive to me. My heart skips a beat every time I come across an image like the ones below, for I know it would form part of one of my favourite themes I create posts about. Below you shall find men who have found their equal in the animal kingdom. Have you?

"The ranger is a hunter and a woodsman, skilled with weapons and knowledgeable in tracking and woodcraft. The ranger often protects and guides lost travelers and honest peasant-folk. An above average strength and wisdom are needed to be a ranger."

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