Zane had to admit—he was skeptical at first about the mud bath. Especially when he first got thrown in.
But it turned out like a hot spring back home, only thicker. The mud was a wealth of essence. It massaged in smooth, forceful whirls, bubbling as it went. It churned violently, sure—but he just floated there, and he was perfectly fine.
Everywhere he looked, he saw the lumpy shapes of Rhinos floating about, most with their eyes closed, just relaxing.
Nearby he saw a boar-creature with molten porcupine spikes dip a foot into the currents. It went under almost instantly, thrashing as it fell—but the more it moved, the stronger the currents wrestled. Until the beast was plunged all the way under. It barely managed to pull itself out after burning half its essence—by how it panted, the look in its eyes, it was like it'd been through a life-or-death struggle.
The Rhinos, meanwhile, just floated. Islands of calm breaking up the churning chaos.
The more you moved, the more you drowned, it seemed to Zane—but if you weighted your body and held your ground, moving only when you meant to, you could forge your way straight through, unbothered. There was a strange magic to the place.
Even the little Rhinos were floating about without a care.
He wondered if that was why the Rhinos were so calm all the time.
He lay back too, closed his eyes, and let the churning sweep through. Massaging away the tightness in his muscles. He began to smile.
It made for a peaceful few hours.
***
Afterward he'd soaked up a great deal of essence; when he went over to the clearwater river, washed himself off, and took a sip for good measure—
𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕦𝕡!
𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟜𝟠𝟚 -> 𝟜𝟠𝟛
Nice.
The Barbarian Sage said, "Good work today—big one, eh?"
Zane nodded.
"Well, hold that thought—it's only getting bigger tomorrow!"
"Looking forward to it," said Zane, which got a toothy grin out of the Sage. Then he yawned. He took a gander at the dimming skies.
"Right—time to turn in, I figure. It's about that time."
Zane looked around. There weren't any tents that he could see—the Rhinos didn't use those, he recalled. But the Rhinos' territory was clearly marked out, if only by how flattened it was compared to the rest of the Plains; there was evidence of lots of trampling about. Flags marked out a few chunks of the camp—he saw a flag with an herb symbol over a stack of giant bowls. Another—a cracked horn—for the healers' wards.
Nothing for sleep, though, as far as he could tell.
He asked the Sage about it.
"Make yourself at home," said the Sage, sweeping out an arm. "Find a spot—look!"
He pointed to a few Rhinos settling down, dropping under their bellies, closing their eyes. He even saw a few forms rising and falling a few dozen feet out. Little snores rumbled out of them.
More and more Rhinos were having the same idea—settling down on a nice patch of grass, and dozing off right next to each other. Slowly shaping up one great herd.
The Barbarian Sage settled down, dropped his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes, still grinning.
"'Night! Bah—tomorrow'll be damned great. Just know it."
He was snoring within half a minute.
Zane shrugged and dropped down too. All around him, Rhinos were filling in the empty spaces, settling in, bulky forms slowly rising and falling just a few feet apart. A tail tickled his nose—he turned a little, and looked up.
The stars were clearer and brighter here than any he'd ever seen—lots bigger too. Thick white twinkling streaks shot across the sky, a constant shower.
The sky was purple, shifting to blue, the colors of ice and auroras—never fully dark. The days here dimmed and brightened a great deal—the Everfrost Glacier seemed to have much brighter and dimmer sides to it as it fed light to this world. But it never got fully dark at night, nor fully sleepy. Even now he could hear hoots and distant howls—the creatures of the night gearing up for their own fights, maybe.
He yawned; something about being in a herd made him sleepier, it felt like. He dozed off soon after. Just another bulky form, rising and falling.
Next morning they had grub stew. Dozens of pots feeding ten or so Rhinos each, gathered 'round—there was much slurping.
The Barbarian Sage took him aside for a little briefing after that.
"You got the job done last night," he said. "Made a strong impression. It'll be the war council first thing this morning—but after that… should be time. If all goes right, Nog'll be granting you your Bone."
Zane nodded.
Sure enough, not long after breakfast a Rhino trotted to the now-burnt-out bonfire, and blew a horn. It was the same referee Rhino, Zane realized—he seemed the designated horn-blower. A Rhino of many talents.
"This'll be the most talking you'll ever see a Rhino do," said the Sage.
The Council of Elders convened around the smoking bonfire, shaped in a loose crescent. At its center stood Old Nog. To his left side sat Ronk, and to his right was Shaman Guri. There was another half-step True God and four peak Minor Gods—one of them was Elder Thom, who saw Zane and gave him a tail-swish. Zane gave him a wave, which was, he thought, really just a tail-swish with the hand.
He also saw Mook—the big young Rhino he'd crossed horns with yesterday, who gave him a hearty tail-swish too.
The war council was convened right in the middle of the tribe. Zane had wondered if it'd be in some hidden spot, or if there'd be noise wards.
"Nah. The Tribe's one big herd; they fend for each other. Whatever's said here, every Rhino should know," said the Sage, and that was that. "Besides—it's not the Rhinos' way to keep secrets."
It'd mostly be Ronk giving updates, as the War Chief, said the Barbarian Sage. Chief Nog was also there, but the big fellow was yawning—looking a bit sleepy.
"He's still got that fire in him—old bastard can pull it out when he needs to, you can count on that!" said the Sage. He paused. "All that talking, though—it does get to be a lot. You get to his age, you've got to save your waking hours."
Ronk gave a stomp. Everyone came to attention.
"For our new friend, and our old friend come home," Ronk started. "First we will go over the war situation."
Swishes all around.
"Before the Monsters came, we fought a war with the Suneater Lions over the latest icefall—the purest in a millennium. They lost two True Gods, and we one—a good lad named Frog, who fought bravely. But our watering hole is secured for at least the next century."
Ronk nodded to the giant slab of ice feeding their stream and watering hole, sitting near the edge of camp.
A handful of Rhinos stomped at that.
"Then there was a battle with the Mambas, where we lost another True God—old Domm. That makes two in only a century."
Ronk said it gravely, but there was still a note of pride in the big guy's voice.
"Their spirits have joined the Ancestors in the great Watering Hole, the well where all souls go. They fought bravely to secure the future of the Rhinos—it is as good an end a Rhino can have."
The Rhinos swished their tails in agreement.
"Old Nog decreed that it would take a few thousand years to rebuild. We were ready. Then… they came."
Ronk snorted.
"The Monsters… at first they were no threat—we easily drove them off. But they must have reported to that Malzareth. Their next wave was much stronger. And the wave after that, even more. They found a Plains weakened by wars."
"They hit the Mambas first—and nearly wiped out the clan, which was still recovering their strength, like us. The next few waves hit all of us hard. Since then the Great Tribes of the Wilds have made peace, so that we may first rid ourselves of the scourge."
Ronk said all of this plainly and deliberately.
He turned to the Barbarian Sage.
"Once every week, at midnight, when the Corruption energies are strongest, they strike. They bring hordes of Lords and Princes—but they also bring Monster Kings. Some, peak True God."
"That what gave you the scar?" said the Sage.
Ronk looked at his rump, where a faded white streak ran through the skin, and nodded.
"The Chief helps fend them off," said Ronk. "And our Elders help him make the stampede. We can hold them."
A half-step True God Rhino—quite an old Elder—nodded. He had a giant bandage over his flank where True God Corruption energy still smoldered underneath, although dulled.
"Then—most troublesome—there are the Scourge Princes."
"They've brought damned Scourge Princes?" The Sage cursed.
"What are those?" said Zane.
"Think of 'em like elite disciples of a Great Sect—like Chosen, but for Monsters. The most promising of all the bastards."
"We know little of them," said Ronk. "Only they are strong in the Heavenly Demon Bloodline—and well-geared, holding good Bones."
The Sage crossed his arms. "In time Malzareth'll let 'em drink of his blood—and make them Monster Kings. Best take care of 'em before then."
"The rest of the Horn fights the Scourge Princes off," said Ronk, nodding to the rest of the white-horned warriors standing about. Mostly Low- and Mid-Minor God Rhinos.
"They hold strong. But their numbers dwindle. Last week we gave Rok and Poal to the Ancestors."
All the Rhinos—especially the ones with white-streaked horns—dipped their noses at that.
"I see the trouble," said the Barbarian Sage, crossing his arms. "Can't spare any True Gods to help out, can you?"
Ronk shook his head.
"So while those Monster Kings come at you from the front, these Princes hit at you from the rear—while your strongest folk're all tied up!"
"That's right," said Ronk. He rumbled it pretty calmly, but Zane sensed an undertone of annoyance. It seemed rare for the big Rhino.
"One of the Princes is particular trouble."
A younger Horn Rhino piped up. "Scourge Hive," declared the Rhino. "Giant... group… colony of…"
The Rhino struggled for the word. "Bees," it rumbled. "Each sting, not hard. But… fast. Much. Hive-mind. Queen kill: hard."
Zane got the gist of it.
Off to the side, Mook gave an angry hop. "Bird," he declared.
All the Rhinos in the circle had a grumble at that.
Zane looked around, blinking.
These really were his people.
Then Guri padded up.
"In three days the next wave comes," she wheezed. "By then, our wounded'll be treated and ready. My bone runes'll be done carving by then, too—that ought to weaken the Corruption aura some."
Her eyes took on a faraway look. "I've gazed into the Fire," she said. "And asked the Ancestors what comes. They showed me the rising glacier. Day is coming for the Eastern Rhinos... Fate has sent us good tidings—good things are coming."
She gave Zane a kindly look. "We only have to hold strong."
The other Rhinos swished their tails. They seemed to take her visions quite seriously.
"That is the war news," said Ronk. "Now. The next thing."
He looked over at Big Nog, who had started to nap.
The Rhinos looked around awkwardly.
Then Ronk charged up an Annihilation Charge and plowed straight into Nog.
Zane had seen that thing delete a half-step True God.
But it bounced right off Nog's side.
This seemed to do no visible damage to Nog. But it did wake him up. Nog yawned.
"Eh?" he looked around, orienting himself. Then looked to Ronk, who told him the news was done.
"Yes, yes!" He turned to Zane—it was a slow, wheeling effort. But he got there eventually, and when he did the old fellow looked pleased. "It's time for your Bone Rites."