See, polar bears are expert lurkers. The word "sneak" defines them. You'ld think that on a bare ice pack, you'ld be able to be able to see a 500 kg animal coming for hundreds of metres, no? Not true. The bears are adept at slinking along under ridgelines, ridgelines that don't appear to be there at all. They have to be; their main food source are harp seals who can flop into the water and be away in an instant. Bears routinely get within ten metres of their prey before they attack. The Rathori will surely have magic to supplement this too. To recap: Polar Bears==Big White Sneaks.
Bears are a CONSTANT problem in the high Arctic because of this. Could they raid the Char-Un? I don't think so; large numbers would be too difficult to hide in the steppe. Bears are solitary animals anyway. Could they make life difficult for Char-Un outriders and scouts? You betcha. One-on-one, who would you pick: a 500 kg bear that can outrun a horse (for a couple of hundred metres) or a light lancer?
Remember, a bear's coat is pretty good armour. Unless the Char-Un scout gets one hell of a good shot off, he's hamburger. Heck, a bear will shrug off a shotgun blast, unless you get it in the face. I bet that it's a status symbol for a young Rathori brave to have a horse tail and scalp or two.
Image: A Char-Un camp, as Father Sun dies. Kalikashi is by the yurt, preparing her little ones for bed. She looks out over the steppe, reassured by the distant sight of her brothers and uncles, scattered over the plain. All is quiet, the wind gentle.
It comes, as always, with no warning: the cry of a man, the shrill scream of a horse. Kalikashi turns, seeing only the last struggle of hooves and one horrible flash of white. Then, for the briefest of moments, she sees it, ruddy in the last light of the day. Bigger than a man, bigger even than the horses of the moon people, it rears on its hind legs like a gopher. It looks so improbable, almost comical. Kalikashi gasps, half-way between a laugh and a sob. For an instant only, then the beast is gone, slipping below a low rise in the rolling plain.
She gathers the little one and young Bekar, watching her brothers charge to where her uncle last stood, knowing, as ever, that they will find only the mauled bodies....
Also, polar bears have been observed to swim a couple of hundred kilometres or more in a single stretch, in very cold waters. Therefore, it seems only reasonable that young Rathori swim the sweet sea every year or two and go a-viking. Of course, they'll mostly raid for food and small valuables, but I'm sure some bear of unusual brain has figured out that towing a coracle means that you can bring back more loot.
Doing my bit to promote the grim and terrible north in SoCal
Glorantha (great line!), I remain,
Bruce Hollebone: hollebon (at) cyberus (dot) ca
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