What are you doing in there little red mouse? Best not let Moraath find you in there. She doesn't tolerate anyone messing about with her herbs
Wyk is a slight young man, shorter than average for his age, but fit and tan from years of nomadic life on the plains. Unlike the tanned hides and furs worn by most of the tribe, he wears simple rough spun trousers, loose and baggy so as not to impede movement and tied about the waist, and a simple cloth vest covered with strange symbols and pictograms. While he normally goes about barefoot, in colder seasons he begrudgingly deigns to wrap his feet in simple oil-cloth moccasin boots, and wears a long cloth wrapped and bunched about his body. His jet black hair, unkempt and often unwashed, is cut short unlike the long hair and decorative braids worn by others of the tribe.
Wyk is a boy far too serious for his age. He very rarely smiles and often seems distracted, as though he were listening to some silent conversation in the background. Yet despite his serious demeanor he's not morose or gloomy, and often after quietly studying a situation for a time will make a comment that hints at a wisdom far beyond his years. When he's apart from people he can often be seen to be muttering quietly to himself, though he's learning to stop that based on Mortaath's admonition that it makes others uncomfortable. Normally quiet and aloof, he becomes an entirely different boy when he's out on the plains, racing with a hare or whistling back at a bird. Rarely does he play with Moraath's other apprentices though, and he vocally complains about studying the clerical rites and rituals she teaches them to honor and appease the gods. Despite his aloofness he does not dislike the company of others, he has simply become accustomed to being alone after a lifetime of ridicule for being different. He is an avowed pacifist, and refuses to wear the skins, furs, and bones that the other Hulun adorn themselves with. He will however defend himself and the lives of others, violently if necessary.
Wyk is fourteen years old.
"Even as a baby we knew he was different." The woman shrugged a fur from her shoulder as she leaned forward to stir the small fire that provided the only illumination in the simple aurochs hide tent. "He would never cry, and would stare off into the distance when we would play with him. Timot, may his spirit ever ride with Raad, feared the boy was touched. It is told that my far distant blood-sister once birthed a child who was touched, and threw herself and the babe from a cliff in despair."
"I told Timot that the boy was special, and perhaps it was the will of the gods that his first son should not be the great warrior he envisioned. I think he was dissapointed the child could not mount a horse and throw a spear his first moon from the womb."
"He was never a fussy baby, nor did he grow into an unruly boy. Never did he get into the trouble that the other boys sought, and he was always content to play with the dogs in the camp or to go exploring by his self on the plains. I encouraged him to play with the other children, but children can be cruel. To his credit Wyk never lost his patience with them. Once he came to me, bloodied and covered with filth, and after cleaning him up I asked him what had happened. He only replied that the boys didn't know any better because they couldn't see. I thought it a strange comment, for we have no blind children in the tribe, but he wouldn't say any more."
"That fight made Tik'kot very angry though, and he vowed that he would teach Wyk to be a man and to defend himself like a warrior. This was shortly after Timot had died in the Raven clan raid, and Tik'kot was still furious over his brother's death. Tik'kot is a good man and has provided for us ever since Timot died, but I fear he tried too hard to be a father to Wyk. The harder he pushed the boy to learn the ways of a warrior, the more distraught he became. It finally came that, while out on a hunt we cornered a wolf in a box canyon. The beast was crazed with fear and anger, and in that state it had broken it's leg and was suffering. Tik'kot thrust a spear to Wyk and insisted that he kill the creature, and he raged when the boy refused. I explained to him that the animal was in pain and he must do it the mercy of killing it. Reluctantly, Wyk took up the spear and with one sure stroke drove it into the creatures chest."
"He was disconsolate for days after that. He would not eat or sleep, and simply sat beyond the edge of the camp, staring off at the end of the world. We called Moraath, fearing he was sick. She walked out to the boy and came back shortly. When questioned all she would say was that his sickness was not of the body but of the spirit. I pleaded with him to come home and eat. I pleaded with Moraath to drive out whatever evil spirit had possessed my son. But she told me there was nothing she could do."
"Finally the poor boy became so weak he collapsed and we had to carry him back to the camp. Moraath took him into her hut and began to nurse him back to health. Still he would not speak or acknowledge me. He just stared off as though watching some distant herd. Gradually his strength returned, though I feared his wits had forever left him. The tribe was preparing to move on and I resigned myself to stay behind and take care of him."
"Never was I so relieved when he came to me suddenly with Moraath at his side to say that he would be joining her as an apprentice. I questioned them both about what evil spirit had made him so sick and about his sudden recovery, but neither of them would speak of it."
"For many moons now Wyk has studied with Moraath, and he's returned to being the same quiet boy he ever was. He seems somehow stronger now, though, and he's growing to be a young man. He refuses to go on the hunt to secure his place as a man in the tribe. I tell him that he's no longer just a boy and he must stop playing with the dogs in the camp and the prairie dogs in the plains. He needs to grow up and find a nice girl to make a life with. But why should he listen to me, I'm only his mother."
Role in the Story so FarEdit
Wyk had enthusiastically assisted the shaman Moraath in her preparations for the feast , but when there was a lull in activity he raced off with the shamn of Da, Bolen, to see if they could eavesdrop what was going on inside K'harg's . Wyk heard a little more than Bolen but elected not to reveal what he heard. The pair were accosted by Daromir along with Amond , who had followed them, and ordered to return to the feast.
Wyk was distracted during K'harg's speech by a small crow, just as Grimach had been. As Grimach yelled to the chief that the bird had been spying on him, Wyk merely followed the creature before losing it to the night. He wandered awhile before arriving at Wernek's ascension, witnessing a brief exchange between Grimach and Lugana before resting atop the great boulder.
Sensing a strange animal presence amongst the camp, Wyk ran to the entrance in time to see Bolen and Eyg slay Lomnu's panther. The boy was again disconsolate to see a wild beast slaughtered so brutily; despite Eyg's attempts to soothe him, he would not be comforted and retired to bed.
The following day Wyk joined the majority of youths on the foraging expedition with Bundu towards the forest south of the Ur.
Beyond the Fourth Wall...Edit
Wyk was a PC in the inaugural chapter of Warriors of the Plains created by Uroboros. . The background and description of this article were lifted from the original application for the game. After the first chapter, Wyk was NPCed pending Uroboros' return.