Flying Bears of Nurastan

Nuristan, our neighbors to the far north represent, for many, a land of mystery. Though our shared border runs for over a hundred leagues, little is known of this vast and desolate country. Its geographic isolation makes travel there a grueling and difficult odyssey, due mainly to the immense Ragstaad Mountain range that separates our two countries. Once there the landscape of Nuristan is frigid and uninviting. Only our most intrepid Udenland citizens (i.e., myself) have made the trek into the frozen north. Occasionally one of the Nordic tribes of Nuristan will cross the expansive tundra and forbidding mountains in order to trade furs and handcrafts with our northernmost villages. With them, they bring tales of their homeland that speak of odd lands and strange beast (apparently stranger than ours). Many of these stories have become legends throughout Udenland, and one of the most extraordinary legends is that of the Flying Bears of Nuristan. Bears with huge wings, which can fly for leagues and hunt their prey from the skies. Both an exhilarating and terrifying image to be sure.

Many years ago, after aggressive begging on my part, I received funding to mount an expedition to Nuristan from the Udenland Institute of Ambiguous Studier, where I am a senior member of the faculty. Our intention was to catalogue the flora and fauna of Nuristan in order to expand the Henchwoods Guide. But, what I truly hoped was to find proof that the Flying Bears did exist. I had heard tales of the bears since my childhood; they fed my already vivid imagination. The opportunity to actually encounter the beast was truly my life’s ambition.

The Northern face of the Ragstaad Mountains

Our expedition to Nuristan was indeed an arduous journey, filled with peril. We lost a third of our party in the mountains, fortunately they were merely undergraduate students and therefore not a terrible loss. The mountainous terrain was often impassible and frequently required retracing our path, always searching for a passage through this unwelcoming land.

After several weeks we exited the mountains onto the tundra, which meets the northern edge of the Ragstaad range. There we began to encounter the Oronar, the nomadic tribes which live on the expansive tundra. They roam the tundra on horses and gergins, in family groups of thirty or more, assembling tent villages in a new location every few weeks. Seemingly in spite of the hostile landscape in which they live, the tribes of the Nuristan tundra are warm, hospitable and without hesitation they welcomed us into their tents. They gave us shelter, fed us, and shared their rituals and stories.

Bataar, a young Oronar who was eager to help us

After my somewhat enthusiastic enquiries concerning the flying bears, the tribesmen confirmed that indeed the bears existed, and, in fact, were quite revered throughout Nuristan. From their tents they brought crafts and textiles with representations of the bears incorporated into the design.

During our discussions they explained that there were several species of flying bear, each uniquely adapted to its particular habitat. The closest being the Ponya Bear, a masked bear that lived in the sparse forests in the eastern foothills of the Ragstaad Mountains. We quickly packed our gear, thanked our hosts and began the trek east, across the tundra. After several days of travel the forest came into view on the horizon, and high above it, riding the wind currents were large dark shapes circling, somewhat inelegantly, and occasionally dropping from the sky into the trees. This was our first sighting of the Flying Bears; my traveling companions quickly began to share my excitement, and then quickly grew annoyed with it. I pushed us on in great haste and by the time we reached the edge of the woodlands the bears had vanished from the sky, alarmed by our approach.

Flying Bear motif found in many Oronar textiles and handcrafts

We made camp and began daily excursions into the woods, searching for nesting sites. On the fourth day we discovered large pile of bear scat at the base of a pine tree and high on the upper branches we could see the masked face on the Ponya bear looking down on us with as much curiosity as we had looking up at her. So began what would our observation of the Immanitus Ursus Navi (Winged Bear).

The Flying Bears are very similar to flightless bears in the range of types and personalities. They can be inquisitive and placid or vicious
and territorial, vegetarian or carnivorous, and the colors and patterns on their fur are as varied as the habitats in which they live. The
Ponya is of a gentle nature, shy but curious. After a few days it appeared to have grown accustom to our presence and cautiously drifted

down from her nest. she began to pace just outside our campsite, now relocated near the Ponya's tree. Because her mask gave her the appearance of an anxious highwayman, we named her Bandit. In the evening she would beat her great wings and soar back up into the heights of the tree where we could see her eyes reflecting greenish from our campfire. Occasionally two sets of smaller eyes would appear which we discovered to be cubs too young to fly. We determined that the Ponya were vegetarian, each day we would place different foods just outside the camp and Bandit would always avoid any meat instead preferring berries and grasses. Periodically Bandit would gather some of the vegetation in her arms and fly up to the nest where we could hear the eager calls of her young.

One afternoon several weeks into our research, Bandit began to act nervous, looking to the sky and very purposely sniffing the air. She suddenly made a short guttural bellow, flew up to her nest gathering her cubs, which had been playing among the branches, and quickly moved them into her nest. A short while later a large shadow passed over the ground. In the sky we could observe the a winged bear, this one much larger than Bandit who was only five feet in length. We knew this was the Winged Brown Bear as describe by the Oronar. A bear they called Knoton Honaw or Wind Bear. We had been told that this one was very much a carnivore and to be cautious should we see one. We all moved close to the trunk of the tree, hoping the branches would hide us from the bear. The Honaw circled for few minutes then flew east, deeper into the forest. We made note of its path and where it vanished into the trees.

Bandit

Continue reading more of Prof. Henchwoods Nuristan adventure on Page Two of this entry

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