Dar'ru Aeolamen

The Dar'ru Aeolamen is a species of Aeolamen Raptorhound bred for climbing and flight. They have vast amounts of energy, though once they fall asleep they cannot be roused for many hours. Their temperament is known to be energetic and exciteable, and often too smart for their handler's own good. They require constant attention and training for the first year of their life, and are fiercely loyal to their trainers as a result.

Dar'ru Aeolamen are are traditionally bred and raised by outlander tribes of Faecha, who use them to travel between the high crags of Dar’ru while avoiding the valleys where predators (and historically Malisyk) pose a greater threat. Due to the nature of their loyalty, their driver must also be their trainer — loyalty doesn't transfer easily, so someone cannot train them on your behalf.

Their arctic adaptations make them ill-suited for many other purposes outside of Dar'ru except as luxury pets. As a working beast, however, they are considered exceptionally difficult to house train. They need lots of stimulation and an open range.

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Summary

Other Names

Northern Gryphon

Genetic Ancestor(s)

• Aeolamen Raptorhounds

Geographic Distribution

• Dar’ru

Related Ethnicities

• Eiuka

Selected Adaptations

Dense Coat

They have a dense undercoat of furlike, downy feathers for keeping the heat in. They are able to maintain their core temperature by burrowing into the snow — Mushers trapped in a storm will take refuge in their Aeolamen's burrows for warmth.

Heavy Talons

Dense, and typically rounded off from scratching against the hard stones of the cliggs. These claws are built to hook onto narrow ledges and to support their own weight.

Feather Lashes

Their Outer Lid has soft downy lashes which essentially zipper together when they lower their brow, allowing them to keep their eyes protected even in the driving snow. Natives will collect these features to create snow goggles of their own.

Phama looked out over the crisp, unforgiving landscape of Khytask's Crown: a jagged sawtooth of peaks crowning the northern pole of Jhoutai. Mounted halfway up each of the crags jutted out great stone dais with foundations wide enough to balance a city on. Atop each was a plinth for flame, though fires hadn't burned there for over a thousand years.

She stood at the edge of one of these and regarded the nearest — nearly four kilometers out. To reach the next, she would need to guide from here to the foot of the next, landing as close to it as possible before making the trudge up to the next and continuing. Carrying on at this rate, she might cover 20 or more kilometers a day, traveling just far enough for the first plinth to dissappear entirely behind icy haze and interloping mountains.

Two of her Aeolamen flanked her, the third was already harnessed to her back. It gave a curious chirp, and was rewarded with the heel of her bread as she capped off her can of flame, rolled it in the snow to cool it, and stowed it in its place at her hip. She checked to make sure nothing was dangling or jangling, then tested the straps of her harness, glider, and bags.

Guess that's that, then," she muttered. The two hounds already standing next to her danced around in excitement, ever-eager to get the wind under their wings and the kilometers at their back.

She situated herself close to the edge — standing with her toes just a wiggle away from a sheer drop of hundreds of meters into ice and snowpack. She imagined the dense hive of Gravedigger Worms might've taken up residence at the root of the column, relying on the strength of its support. She imagined the ground giving way as she collided with it, sending her plunging into the dark maw of the Subnivean.

Her skin crawled. She took a careful breath and looked outwards. A glider must look where she's going. Looking at the ground when you leap is the fastest way to get there.

She looked out across the horizon.

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With a sigh of recovery, Phama extended the wings of the glider across her back. The Aeolamen on her back clucked in excitement, and extended its wings in a stretch as Phama produced a wand fan in each hand and spread them out. She raised her arms in preparation to dive as the Aeola stepped up alongside her and the one at her back closed its wings.

She took a small step forward, bracing the arch of her foot on the ledge of the stone, a fulcrum to swing around as she leaned forward into gravity, and fell.

The cold air rushed past her face in a blistering rush, nipping at the tender parts of her face even through the thick wraps of cloth protecting it. Flecks of snow skidded across her goggles. She heard nothing but the roar of her blood and the wind.

Channeling her Soul through her arms, she extended her will out into the shape of a great, unseen wing. It caught her, pulling her out of her short dive and instead transferring her weight along the support of spell, wing, and glider to send her shooting upwards again, climbing rapidly higher than her starting point before she leveled out into a careful outwards glide.

Her flanking aeolamen caught up to her as she angled the fans to pull them into her draft winds, and she let the spell wane to its lowest setting to hold formation as the icy, rippling landscape passed by below them.

She could move across two or three more leaps before her next rest. There was no night for another week, and she only needed two days to reach her final destination.