Orlanth and Yinkin

Orlanth decided to visit his mother, Kero Fin, the great mountain of Dragon Pass. The walk was pleasant, as it was a beautiful day in Fire Season, and the world was peaceful and calm. As Orlanth reached the base of the mountain, he prepared to call to his mother, but the peace and quiet was shattered by the cry of a deer.

“Help me, I am sore set upon,” cried the deer, as it burst from the forest surrounding Kero Fin’s feet.

Orlanth was struck by the grace and agility of the deer, and resolved to help her. “Stop,” he called. “I, king Orlanth will protect you.” The deer came to a skidding stop, her wide eyes damp with appreciation.
“Thank …” she got out, before cruel claws tore out the veins on either side of her neck. As she feel to the ground, a large Alynx-man mixed creature ripped out the front of her throat, drinking in her very life blood.

Chewing and swallowing the bloody flesh, the cat-man gulped down his piece of flesh, then sat up and smiled at King Orlanth. “Thanks for that,” he said. “She was a fast one. Never would of caught her if you hadn’t distracted her.” He held out a bloody hand-paw to shake.

Orlanth was overcome with shock and anger. “I had placed the deer under my protection, and you KILLED her, and ate her throat!” he screamed. “You will be punished, for you defy the Chief of the Storm Tribe, Husband King of the Earth Tribe, he who humbled and laid low the Sun.”

Yinkin cast a quizzical look at the god. “Seriously? Um, she’s a prey animal, I’m a hunter, and from the belly and size of your muscles, I’m willing to bet you don’t live on grain like a cottar,” he said. “Some animals live, so that they can die, and other, stronger smarter faster animals may live.”

Looking down, and bending forward so her snowy head was lower than the surrounding clouds, Kero Fin saw that her sons had met each other, and the egos were in full force. “My sons, you have both come to visit, and now my two precious men meet each other! Happiest of days!” Orlanth tilted back his head and looked up into his mother’s face. “THIS beast is my brother?” Yinkin licked his paws clean of the deer’s blood, and simply stated, “I visit mother daily, as I am the better son.”

Orlanth’s wrath grew. To be defied was angering, but to be called an undutiful son incensed him beyond reason. “So I shall be the most dutiful son when I have killed you, foul murderer, and am my mother’s only son!”

Kero Fin grew worried; Umath’s child was young, and hot headed, and too much like his father, without growing into the wisdom needed by a king. Orlanth’s threat to slay his own brother, in sight of their mother, would bring kin strife, the wound that can never heal. “Both of my sons are precious to me, and neither son has done anything but bring honor and fame to his mother,” she declared. “To fight and kill your brother, even cousin, is dark, troubling and feeds Chaos, so recently defeated. You must find another way.”

Orlanth proudly replied, “Violence is always an answer!” Yinkin replied, “A hunter with spear and bow doesn’t know his prey. Let us fight, then, but with the weapons our parents gave us, not the tricks stolen from Sky People or the demons of the Darkness Tribe!”

Kero Fin knew she must think fast. She remembered the stories of her son Orlanth’s contests with Yelm… the end was dark, true, but she could find another way. “Each of you have the powers given you by me, and your separate fathers. Violence can be some of the contests, but you were also given skills other than to kill or die. There will be contests for those skills and gifts, as well.”

Both of the impetuous young gods perked up at this; being young, and male, they were emotional and eager to prove something, even if they had no idea what they were trying to prove yet. “Contests? And who will judge, and what are these contests?” The brothers spoke the same words, at the same time, and then lowered their heads, slightly ashamed that they were being so alike.

“I will judge, since to a mother, her sons are always hers to protect and guide. The first contest will be a contest of dance. Yinkin, my wild boy, has the grace of a leaping cat, with the subtle power of a stalking killer. Orlanth, my royal child, remember that your greatest contests, with Yelm the Emperor began with a dance.”

Yinkin easily won.

Orlanth saw that his brother’s skill exceeded his own, and peevishly asked his mother, “OK, now violence?”

“Next shall be a contest of Song, since like all mothers, I love the voices of my children when they are not whining and complaining all the time,” Kero Fin said.

Yinkin easily won.

Scowling, and settling his helmet low on his brow, Orlanth said between clenched teeth, “OK, now violence, right?”

“I am a mother, and a mountain, and don’t get to see much of the world. We will have a contest of stories, next. Each of you will tell a tale, and the round will be won by he who tells the best story.”

The deeds of Orlanth were well known; the deeds of Orlanth was how the world had become as it was. There was nothing new to his tales, and so Yinkin easily won.

With grim determination, Orlanth asked, “Is it time for the violence yet?”

Kero Fin replied, “I am your mother, and gave you both the gift of life. We will have a gift contest. Each of you will give a gift to the other, and judge for yourselves who gave the better gift.”

Yinkin taught Orlanth the subtle tricks of sneaking, hiding, waiting in ambush. Orlanth offered Yinkin the gift of Oratory; Yinkin said he knew how to brag. Orlanth offered to teach how to seduce, as he had used to win the hand of Ernalda. Yinkin laughed… he had kits across the face of all Glorantha. Finally, Orlanth in desperation offered Yinkin shelter in the tula of the Storm Tribe. Yinkin smiled and accepted, “I concede, a place in your home is the greater gift.”

With a heavy sigh, Orlanth asked his mother, “Can we have the contest of violence, now?”

With a solemn nod, Kero Fin conceded it was time for a contest of violence. Orlanth grabbed Yinkin around the neck, and threw him to the ground. “Concede brother, for I am Orlanth, who slew the Sun, and I am King of the World!”

“I concede, you are king, and I will help in your hunts, and live on your stead as loyal companion,” Yinkin replied, before slipping his furry head and next from between Orlanth’s fists. “But I am companion, not subject. I hunt not herd, and will feast on the flesh of any dog found in the homes of they who make their home with the Storm Tribe.”

Seeing the wily, sneaky, and perhaps even cheating ways of his brother, Orlanth realized her would get no better deal with this trickster. “Agreed. You will hunt with me, and my subjects will tend herds. You will be honored in our homes, and we will forswear dogs in your honor. You will accept me as king, as I will accept that no king rules a cat.”