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Fantasy Terryal: The First Age of Man

Ramya let the female come close to her. She trembled when she was touched, and the smell of the hume surrounded her senses. She bowed her head as she reached her hand into her cloak. To the others, it would appear that she was hugging her arms close to herself as she recovered from witnessing others die. She rubbed a small spice onto her fingers and raised the smell to her nose, letting a small sob out as she did so in order to appear to be holding her face.


She followed the group to the campsite. With the size of the group, and by the conversation, with someone injured, they would be traveling slow. Her clients would likely grow impatient if she did not arrive on her agreed date. Though, she doubted she would be able to separate before she arrived at the next town. She hugged her elbows and looked at the female and then the rest of the group. She sniffled.


”I’m Rammie,”she said meekly, letting a small smile curve her lips.


She paused in her walk as she watched others of the group emerge from their campfire. She wasn’t close enough to make out more than their silhouettes, but the wind carried their smells. She withheld a sneeze and looked between the archer and the hume with the loud voice, letting worry show.


Even when the large hume, Az, explained his part, she leaned closer to the other female, as if seeking protection. She tugged the hume's cloak lightly as she held onto it and peeked around her arm as she approached the camp, much like a scared child.
 
Ruger rushed off ahead of Airrow, leaving the Alpha's son to stand in wait. He felt slightly sore about it, but perhaps it was better to let another dirty his hands in his stead. He was against it really, it was a poor thing of a leader who let his men do all the work. Leading by example would what his father told him to do, something he can't seem to do. Airrow kept his place, and watched from where he was, keeping an eye on the situation. As Ruger approached them, Fox knocked and aimed an arrow. It surprised Airrow that he was left armed. It forced the question on the possibility of a mutiny already. Airrow decided to approach as well, but at a more cautious pace than Ruger's charge. He heard Az and Aesriel speaking about what had happened. As he approached he could see that the archer was indeed not Fox. Even more so, he could see that Nadia was not amongst them and that she was replaced by a more timid hybridia. While Airrow assumed Ruger would find some suffice in that fact that Fox died painfully, he did not bother much with how he died, as long as it was out of his dish of problems.


Airrow placed a hand on Ruger's shoulder to attempt to calm the sellsword. "The job is done. Calm yourself, get some sleep." And to the others just arriving, he spoke, "The death of a companion is always a sad one, but we must not wander on those already gone else we may lose more. Faelynn is doing better thanks to a priest passing the camp by. The priest is helping her now. Azrathoth, Aesriel, thank you for your efforts, but I ask that you all rest now, we must move out when sunrise shows its warm face, and the moon is already dropping from the sky." He reached out to pat Azrathoth's tall shoulder, then brushed his hand gently on Aesriel's back. "Leave me to speak with these two new ones, if you would please me."


Airrow turned his attention to the archer and the hybridia. The archer looked to be the rugged type, no professional soldier, but a man who took up the sword to show his worth. Airrow would assume he was almost self taught. cured leather over a chain shirt, definitely not the most rich of travelers. The girl was small and fragile looking, definitely not the look of a warrior, most likely a runaway slave or an orphan.


"I'm not sure what it is you all had been told, but let me explain once more. Myself and this party here are headed over the mountains and then onto Agartha, on the other side of the known world. Are way is dangerous, and we are not immense in number, but we are after a quest of honor. While I would not bound you to this quest, I would not disallow you each to join us for as long as you would need. I am Airrow Airs, son of Rige Airs, the," He paused, "now diseased Alpha of the Djinn Wolves. I am funding this campaign to the northern lands, and if you would consider joining us the complete way, I would pay you as I am paying any of my current members. Again, a light heart is not one that should traveling with us, so consider your choices. You're free to spend the night at camp amongst us, but we will be leaving soon, I'm not sure how much sleep you will receive if you are wishing to leave with us."


With that, Airrow made a small bow before heading back to the camp himself. Again, he leaned down near to Faelynn and attempted to relax her. "You should sleep. I assure you, Fox is gone." It was a short comment, but it was all he could conjure at the moment. His mind was settling and the rush of disaster was dying. He was regaining focus on his situation.


"You, fair priestess, should rest as well. We will awake early and if you wish to take my offer, you'll need rest as well. For now, my parties can at least care for their wounds enough to keep themselves in tact as they await for your strength to regather." He said to the priestess once again. Airrow picked himself up from the ground and began to gather up bowls, filling them with Kalhalar's soup and setting them up for grabs, if any would like some. Then took a seat at the back of Kalhalar, facing the opposite direction of him.


"We have a road to travel friend, a long one, but at least your luck brings lots of allies, as it always seems."
 
As Pauvel stood there, aiming at the tall man body's heart, he heard his blonde temporary companion speak out to him, reminding him of her request not to threaten anyone's life as they got there. Far was that thought from his mind until another giant man started waving his sword at him. " 'Twas not my intention to antagonize anyone. I was merely protecting myself." he replied shortly, not in the mood for an argument. However, he lowered his bow, as asked of. The arrows were still nocked and ready to fly, should the need for that arise. As he stood there, the first man that could be sighted from between the trees emerged forward, starting to explain to them the nature of their quest.


It was as Aesriel, as the woman presented herself, said, they were out for blood and not just any, for that matter, but the blood of a god, or whatever was that creature that burned down Zephyr. The son of the Alpha, as he presented himself. Pauvel never met the fabled leader of the Djinn Wolves, only heard of him and his valor. From under his hood, Pav frowned a second. Now it was time for a real decision. His comrades died protecting him from those feathered, dark creatures that probably spawned due to the presence of the fiery entity that burned down Zephyr in the first place. Therefore, it was the entity itself that Pav had to exact vengeance upon, if he wished for the souls of his friends to rest in peace. He smiled at the man, who couldn't be older than himself, as he proclaimed his quest one not for the faint of heart.


The Gods knew that Pauvel Dornum of Hinxworth was no coward. He'd been through the fire more than once, within an inch of his life far more times than he would care to number. Adventure was knocking on his door. Whether or not he would answer it, was the real question. He took a quick look over the group that laid before him. They did not make up quite an encouraging group, that was for damn sure. He sighed once, before speaking, addressing the appearing leader of the party. "So, you hail from Zephyr, the big pile of rubble that it is now. You seek out that monstrous being that razed your town in a matter of hours, maybe less, with the sole purpose of destroying it? With no idea whatsoever about what it is, where it came from and why did it do what it did?" he assaulted him with questions.


The man's story, although sounding quite sincere, was madness. Yet again, Pauvel wasn't known for his good behavior or mental sanity, for that matter. When his friends were alive, the Blac Hawks were quite renowned for their insane missions that meant certain death in many scenarios. Yet they reveled in the adrenaline, the rush they felt. And the coin, of course. 'You can't go on tasks with an empty belly and a dry neck!' was what Tuomas used to say. After some considerable thought, Pauvel finally spoke his mind. "Fine, I will travel with you, for a while. As I see it, you will need some extra hands and I wouldn't mind the company. It's not wise for someone to be travelling alone. Plus, I see you are in need of horses!". He could tell that about them by a single look. Too many people and too few horses. "I can fetch you quite the bargain in Hinxworth, provided ou plan on passing through there.". Although banished from his hometown, there were little chances of them recognizing him after over 10 years. If he'd keep his hood one, just like now, there shouldn't be any problems.


Having made his case, he bowed his hooded head slightly as the man turned to leave, but quickly recalling something he forgot entirely. "Oops, seems I have left my trusty companion waiting for me too long. He might be scared, so let me call him over.". With that being said, Whisper neared the path from which they had just came from, placed two fingers in his mouth and let out a discontinued whistle, which wasn't too loud, yet hearable from a reasonable distance. He stood there waiting, listening. Soon, the vegetation would start to rustle, a neighing sound being heard from the darkness beyond the trees.


Soon, a magnificent, black, muscly and proud stallion emerged from the path, slowing down its gallop before stopping in front of Pauvel, bowing down its head in respect for his master and friend. "There you are, Storm! Missed me?" the archer asked, patting his nose. "Seems we're not gonna be alone for a while, but trust me, I have my reasons!" he tried to assure his rather nervous horse, as he could perceive him. He took his horse by the reins and directed him towards where the rest of the horses were tied up, but he for a change, let Stormrider free. He knew the horse wouldn't run away without his master. After giving him some water and something to eat from his bags, Pauvel let the horse be and headed towards the group, picking a spot to place his bedroll which he took from Storm's back, slightly more retreated from the rest. He wanted to get some sleep after the ordeals of the day.


He didn't know how much he could trust these men and women, but did he have much choice? Soon, bandits would be roaming the areas, in search of refugees from Zephyr to prey on easily. He was lucky the others did not spot the little black hawk symbol on his left shoulder guard, denoting his allegiance. He covered it up with the mantle piece of his clothing and laid down to rest. The moon was shining brightly, covering up the stars that predicted his future in the company of his newly-found companions. Wondering what tomorrow might bring, Pauvel slowly but surely fell asleep, letting his thoughts and worries be completely replaced by serenity.
 
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The giant's mellow voice, one that befit his size and stature both reassured Ruger and slightly annoyed him. To Nadia's news, a phrase someone's whose name Ruger forgot used to mention, 'Casualties of war.'. It hardly sat right with him that another person had to perish with this bastard. Then again, Ruger was hardly surprised. A crafty devil like Fox would sooner take the whole world with him if he could. By now, it was clear that the other newcomers are not Fox or part of his crew of sorts. Ruger sighed, a sigh of both relief and frustration, and sheathed his sword, ignoring the bowman entirely. He acknowledged that he was present- he smelled of killing, blood, and coin. Yet another blade for hire, some sod looking for money. At this rate, Ruger doubted that Airrow had enough coffers to offer him at the end of it all. Silly man, this one, thinking that Ruger could be put down by a few arrows. Sure, he gave off an aura of battle-readiness, but right now, he had his guard completely down. At this range, a nocked bow was nothing but a liability. Collateral damage was hardly considered professional. The man was older than him, for sure, given by the weather-worn face, and his eyes, that betrayed some sort of mirth he wanted to show.


"So you are bringing back more prettiness to party, eh?" Ruger directed his words to Az and Aesriel, but more so towards the female newcomer. He said no more, as Airrow ushered the two already-companions away so as to speak to the new ones. Ruger refused, politely, to leave the crimson knight's side, one hand tracing a pattern on his sword's hilt. Airrow gave the usual run through of their mission and waited for their response. The silly man, Whisper- Who names their child Whisper?- started ambling on about some friend he left behind. Ruger could see he was trying to be aloof, nice, to act as a shallow mercenary. He could probably fool others with that act. The same eyes were mirrored in many a comrade's own, however. A sense of longing, of rage, of hatred. Something boiled deep within his skin. As for now, he wasn't a threat. He didn't have Fox's stink of betrayal and two-facedness. The mercenary left, leaving the other one, the petite hybridia lady. Ruger's hand slipped slightly from his sword's hilt, studying her curiously. No doubt, if prompted, he would break into another game of pick up lines and compliments that would send most gals blushing. But for now, he just watched.
 
Faelynn laid quietly as Aurora worked on her head. She could feel the woman was tired so when she was finished, she scooted over enough to let the woman have room to collapse and fall asleep if need be. A few yards away she could see Airrow talking to the Asriel, Az and two new people that she could now see was not Fox. She took a deep breath and looked back up at Aurora. She listened to her as she spoke little words of comfort but at this point she was too tired to give any herself. She just sat and waited for her to finish and for Airrow to be done and to just go to sleep and have this day be done. She was ready to see the sun again.
 
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Aurora was sorely tempted to allow herself to simply fall back on the ground next to Faelynn and immediately sink into slumber. Persistent hungry from skipping over her lunch meal urged her to delay sleep for a bowl of soup. For a long moment she stared blankly at the campfire and weighed the options. The soup had been set out so nicely and thoughtfully, so easily accessible, that it was the more compelling offer. She rose to fetch herself a bowl and then sat down in the precise spot she had been before. Until the young female was completely cured of her ailments, Aurora would stay nearby and be a faithful attendant.


As she blew on her soup to cool it and then carefully sipped on it, she gazed towards the newcomers. From Airrow's greeting it was clear that at least two of the four returning were not previously in his company. Their voices and appearances were a pleasant blend of the diversity Sultra blessed the world with- from a grizzled baritone male voice to a sweet alto feminine pitch. The colors swirled and blended together as her vision became blurry with both mental and physical fatigue. Oft she was early to bed to avoid the meandering thoughts and doubts that plagued her when worn from the day. On more than one occasion she had found herself sitting for over an hour contemplating her value compared to other servants of Sultra, mourning those who could not be saved by her efforts, reviewing her healing acts to make certain that she had done all that was possible, pondering over the meaning of a mortal's life, and other such grand queries. Tonight her meandering mind was attempting to coax her into musings about the travelers she had just joined. Where did they hail from what? What miracle had spared them from the conflagration that was once a bustling metropolis?


Dinner was finished more quickly than she had anticipated and she quietly set down the empty bowl. A couple of the gentleman- Airrow and another who had not been introduced to her- were sitting to the side. It looked as if they intended to keep watch. Aurora blinked several times, realizing that it was a prudent measure she had not bothered with for. How would she accomplish such traveling by herself? Armored with faith and endlessly trusting in her deity, she had been completely exposed to danger with each night. Was this yet another sign of divine guidance that she had survived this long? Or were there just that few refugees from the demolished city? With a stifled yawn she pushed away her bag and forced her lids to stay parted for a minute or two longer. The others might greet her and it would be poor manners to pass out seconds before an introduction.


One large, slightly intimidating man; a lovely hume lady that was much more slight of build; a slightly more anxious and young woman; an archer talking to his horse. His steed? She had spoken to her own when solitary, but it was slightly bizarre he carried on with it now when those capable of conversing back were gathered. A warm smile was thrown in their direction with a slight wave of greeting. It would be rude to yell in their direction and Aurora was not the sort to lift her voice without bidding to do so. A glance was stolen to her own equine grazing close by; he showed no indication of wanting to leave. The beast knew it was safer with a rider than braving the wilderness alone it seemed.
 
Azrathoth’s name was a rough as the man himself, but his explanation flowed quick and easily, supporting what Aesriel herself had claimed while lending weight to the whole foul event. She breathed a sigh of relief as Whisper lowered his bow at her urging, then smiled at Rammie, instinctively wanting to protect the child-like girl. When Airrow approached, she turned to Rammie, laying a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “It’s all right,” she said reassuringly. “He is a good man. You’re safe here.” Not that her word would mean much to a relative stranger, but she hoped the girl would believe her. She glanced at Airrow and Ruger, trying to convey to them with a look to be gentle with the girl. Airrow’s hand on her back distracted her briefly, but she nodded at his request to leave the newcomers to him. With one more nod and smile to Whisper, she started moving back toward the main camp.


As it turns out, she need not have worried. True to their natures, Airrow was reassuring while taking command, and Ruger defaulted to being imposing and flirting. If there was a twinge of jealousy that Ruger suddenly had eyes for the newest girl to visit the camp, she dismissed it quickly, shaking her head with a soft chuckle as she moved toward the fire. Whisper seemed to take his own path - although she was surprised when his horse came when he summoned it.


Then she spied the newcomer - presumably the healer - waving amicably from the fire. Diverting her course in that direction, Aesriel waved back and spoke quietly, so as not to disturb Fae’s rest nearby. “Well met. I am Aesriel.” She paused to look over her shoulder, spying Ruger making eyes at Rammie, then looked back to the other woman with a smile and spoke quietly. “I am sure Airrow already stated as much, but we are glad for your arrival. Thank you for helping her,” she said nodding toward Faelynn.


The day’s events were wearing on her; already she could feel her eyelids growing heavy. She covered her mouth as she yawned, then shook her head. “I apologize. It has been a ... long day.” From the battle with the winged monstrosities to Faelynn’s disappearance, then Fox and Nadia being killed, and finally finding more strangers in the wood - one of which seemed to like pointing his arrows at her - she was more than ready for a good night’s rest. “I hope you will journey with us,” she said to Aurora. “But now, I suggest we all get what sleep we can before the ‘morrow.” Assuming the other woman voiced no objection, Aesri would leave her to find a place to rest.
 
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Ramya eyed the strangers warily from behind the woman that led them. She allowed the woman to touch her still, but if she stayed with this group much longer she would have to cheerfully avoid being touched much more. The man, tall and seeming to be the leader of this group, spoke coolly, his scent of fire-smoke wafting towards her. Or perhaps that was from the fire itself? She couldn’t tell, there were too many people about her. She wrapped her gloved hand higher up her arm, her tail laying under her cloak to hide her hybridia features. She listened quietly as the leader gave his statement and walked away. Then the other man that had joined after the murdered two started spouting nonsense and left to get his horse.


That left her with the rather flirty hume. She shivered, her gaze turning gentle as she met the man’s. She gave a small smile. The hume didn’t seem to trust the new loud one, and she didn’t trust any of them. Her gaze fell toward the movement of his hand near his weapon and she ducked her head down, looking away quickly. The man in front of her was shorter than many of the others in camp, but she considered him just as deadly. The faster that she was away from this troop, the better.


She was intrigued by their mission, but as Rammie, she wouldn’t be able to help them much. If they found out her real abilities, well, that would be a problem. She meekly met the man’s eyes and gave another unsure smile. ”You’re not goin’ ta join yer friend? Ya know, my mama always said dat the people dat travel together are a strange sort. Sure, we traveled together, but we were family. A group of men with swords, though? Well, those are scarey sorts. I mean,”her eyes went wide and she held her palms out to the man in sudden shock. ”Nothin’ wrong with dat or nothin. I mean, my ma just wanted me to stop pesterin’ the men that came to buy our wares, I think.”she grinned foolishly. As Rammie, she wouldn’t be held back by disastrous events for long, especially with distractions. Then, as if she seemed to remember something, her smile faded.


Ramya watched the man for another moment before looking around him at the camp. She let a curious look come over her features, though she couldn’t see much the farther away she tried to look. Her wide eyes landed on the man again and she took a curious step forward, her head tilted. ”Yer pretty short for a man, aren’t cha?”she asked, ”I mean, the other men are taller than ya, at least,”she motioned. Then she realized she was closer to him than she would like, even as Rammie, and took a few steps back. She glanced over at the fire again, and the people that were settling down to sleep. She yawned and put a gloved hand over her mouth to cover it.
 
The young man stroked his chin as the hybridia talked, never once interrupting her, waiting for her to make her piece said. He brought up his best smile, and responded in his more joy-ridden tone. "Ruger is agreeing, about the scaryingness. There are liars, brigands and monsters among people like us. But that is what is making adventure fun. Without scaring, Ruger do not think Ruger will be interested." His smile widened to a cheery grin, as he pretended not to notice the girl's sudden detraction from the conversation, her eyes suddenly cast to one side, as if lost in thought. Dear me, his mind thought, there seems to be a lot of people with pasts as dark as the caves in this party. Ruger wondered if he could keep his own sanity at this rate, seeing that most of them weren't happy souls within. He would have to strive harder to keep the morale up.


Ruger burst out laughing, the same hearty laugh he always had, now full of joy at that. Not a lot of people had the gall to call him out on his height. But she was right. He was short, in relation to the other males in the group. What could he say? He was still young, at the least, on the outside. His mind, however, was not as youthful as he was, polluted by death's shrieks. "Yes, yes, Ruger is not very tall man, no?" He gave a wink, which said almost as much as what he was going to say next. "But height is not all that is mattering, do you not think so?" Before she could respond to that, Ruger waved her aside. "It is late time. Good rest means good day. And to you, Ruger say, good night." He gave a short bow, and slipped away towards his own spot, where his armor lay. He tested the ground, then rammed his sheathed sword into the earth. He fell onto the grass, seated, and leaned on his sword. His eyes shifted towards the skies above, the stars that blinked at him from the heavens. He wanted to believe that these stars were the souls of the friends he had lost, in a time long ago, and that they were watching over him. His eyelids shut, and darkness took him, the warmth of his own thoughts his blanket. 
The night was short, as a large amount of it was given to retrieving Faelynn, hunting Fox, and regrouping the party. Mostly, there were only about three of the party members who had gotten a good lengthy rest. Fyodor, had gone to sleep almost immediately, and woke up early, greeting Kalhalar and Airrow, who had been keeping watch all night, but said his farewells and admitted that he was searching for someone in Zephyr and had to seek them out in case they may still be alive. Thus, he left for Zephyr early in the morning. Secondly, Amras stirred to waking and began cooking, Kalhalar supplied the foodstuffs, but decided not to help cook this time around. Yurt woke up third, but mostly kept to himself. While they went on about their business, Airrow took to stirring everyone to life. As reluctant as some would be, he got them each into a well enough state to begin walking. Specifically, requested the use of Amras's large horse to possibly give Faelynn a way to rest better, but then decided it would be better to have Faelynn ride with Aurora to allow further medical procedures to take place. Airrow also took to noticing that there was a horse gone, one of the extras that Aesriel brought. Airrow investigated who had left, and was sure no one had made a move during the night, but came to the realization that the two children had disappeared long before the events of last night. Mostly, it seemed no one else had taken any notice, so Airrow made no mention of it. If they escape without notice, they would do better without the group. After Amras had helped with the waking of the rest of the party members by promptly bashing some pots and pans together, everyone had a bit to eat and prepped for the road.


They moved quite quickly, even as some had to walk along with the horses, and went swiftly along without much trouble at all. At most, one of the horses had hurt its leg due to the encounter with the rock Kalhalar had lifted when it was being used by Fox to escape. Other than that, the most eventful thing was a large contingency of knights rushing down the road towards the burnt Zephyr. Airrow gave off an expression of annoyance at the sight of them and gave off a hint that he would take a horse and go after them, but kept the party towards the next town. They arrival at town by the time the sun was over the mountainous wall that split Yrgen and Faernyae from Zephyr.


Airrow spoke to the group as a whole, instructing them to make temporary camp outside of town, keeping at least two at camp at all times, while any who wished could wander town if they pleased, but he would like everyone to be at camp by afternoon and that they would move out when he returned. Airrow left the group and went into the house of the local baron. There he spoke the steward. Apparently, they had missed the baron just recently, and most likely saw them pass by on the road, the steward prodded Airrow to wait for the lord's return before making any dealings, but Airrow persisted and had the steward at least hear his plea. He explained the plans of a campaign to the north, speaking about the logistics and the small numbers. Mostly, Airrow was seeking out a contract and budget they could use to finance and support how many ever men he could on the trip. The steward was against it, mostly because this meant they would be paying for everything until the contract was spread about and consolidated. After heavy declining from the steward, Airrow began threatening and pressing the steward with talks of the Djinn Wolves coming and forcing the contract to be written. There was some arguing, mostly that Zephyr was burned and the Wolves could do nothing, but Airrow reminded the steward that he was the Alpha's son, and further more he named some Betas that were still currently in Zephyr, which was enough to scare the steward into submission. The contract was written up, but there was much back and forth, becoming a talk of spreading and rearranging the powers in Zephyr. In the contract, it was decided that they would sacrifice some land to Ur and move the focus to defending what was left of the capital and rebuilding while moving the rest of the Betas, with the support of the Deltas, to the north to deal with Warwick.


After long arguments, and some advisers coming in, and soon enough, barons and Deltas in the near area arriving to put their own words in on the contract. With some long back and forth, it was decided that Djinn Wolves would disbanded if the campaign was unsuccessful, and until then, the Deltas and Betas would work to reconstructing Zephyr, excluding the few who were headed north on the campaign. Airrow took to writing down all that would come along with him, specifically, he wrote down the party members who he had arrived at town with, Yurt, Ruger, Aesriel, Azrathoth, Amras, Kalhalar, Faylynn, Rammie, Whisper, and Aurora. While non of them were really Djinn Wolves, they would be remembered by this contract as the Wolves that helped in the campaign to kill a god. After that, the financial business was set forth, and they decided the amount they would give him now and how much they would send him later. The time limit for the campaign was set for two years, one two get there, another to receive the extra gold shipment, then an extra month outside of the two years to send news back of success. If no news is returned or if the shipment is not received by them, they will assume that mission was a failure. Their path was officially mapped. Hinxworth, to Praesidio, to Delfheim, to Agartha. After some extra additions here and there, they all signed the contract and several copies were made. Airrow had one and left with a full wagon, with a box of coin, which he used some to fill the wagon with supplies enough to reach the mountains. There, he knew they would most likely leave a majority of their supplies, specifically the wagon and horses.


Airrow returned to the camp outside of town a small few hours late, but well supplied, with weapons, foodstuffs, cloths, and necessities for the journey, as well with three copies of the contract. Airrow gestured for those who were walking to ride on the wagon and for Aurora and Faelynn to stay on the wagon as well.


(sorry for pushing things along so much, but feel free to have conversation and move about the town before i post again and move us to the mountains > 3> I didnt expect to be at the camp for about 2 months)
 
The morning brought with it new possibilities, none of them entirely optimistic. Aesriel tried her best to keep a good outlook, but with two people dead, another party member’s departure, the children missing, and the addition of strangers she did not entirely trust, it was difficult to do so. Rammie seemed innocent enough, although that begged the question of what she had been doing out alone at night. The sight of Azrathoth still inspired chills, perhaps because she associated him with the gruesome deaths of Nadia and Fox. Then there was Whisper, another stranger who had been wandering at night. In the end, he had seemed reasonable enough, but trust was no so easily earned.


She largely kept to herself as the group broke camp and proceeded along their journey, occasionally smiling at one of Ruger’s jests or checking in on Fae with her new caretaker. Yurt and Kalhalar remained as quiet as she was coming to expect of the men, and despite her professed lack of prejudice, she still did not know how to address Amras outside of genuinely thanking him that morning for a breakfast superior to Kalhalar’s cooking. Then there was Airrow, of course, son of the Alpha, obviously determined to lead their mismatched group to victory - or however close they might get to it.


The prospect of a town interested Aesri. While she still possessed the basics, the bulk of her magical supplies had been destroyed along with Zephyr. So as Airrow went about his business, she decided she would go into town. It was not wise to go alone, which begged the question of who she should ask to accompany her. After brief internal deliberation, she realized Yurt was the one she trusted the most, because they had fought together in the Hunt. So she asked him to come with her and was pleased when he granted her request.


They traveled the short path from the camp to town, with Aesriel initially chatting about random topics, surprisingly relieved to be free of the suspicious cloud hanging over so many of the new people at camp. Yurt’s stoic demeanor caused her constant flow of (mostly one-sided) banter to slowly dwindle. As they walked the streets, looking for an apothecary, Aesriel forgot the lesson and attempted to launch into conversation anew. “What do you think of the newcomers? I am unaccustomed to stragglers joining a mercenary party. It seems...” she paused as she searched for the correct word, “perilous. Of course, our entire quest is hazardous.”
 
Pav certainly did not expect to wake up so the delicious smell that clouded the entire camp in the morning. A tiger-like humanoid was, surpringly, cooking breakfast for them all. Whisper knew better than to launch himself head-on into an unknown person's cooking, but the growling of his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten a bite since he left Zephyr.


Thus, after catching his break after what turned out to be a delicious meal, he packed his belongings and burdened Storm with them, as usual. "Sorry for making you carry all the weight, my friend." he would say to him once in a while. After all, the horse was not a luggage wagon for him, but the single being right now that he really trusted.


The sun shined brightly as they ventured further on into their journey. After careful consideration, Pauvel deemed it worthy to show the face behind his hood. Pulling the black clothing piece, he revealed his raven-black hair, emerald eyes, the slim scar tracing from his forehead to the start of his left cheek, crossing his eye. His face also was adorned with a stubble that was about to cover his face integrally, soon turning into a regular beard. Facial hair never really affected Pauvel, but he did make a mental not to try and trim it later. He hated being clean-shaved, since it made him look less threatening, which in his line of work was not a good thing. When hiring a mercenary, there were two things people paid attention to: the reputation of the mercenary, and his overall appearance. Afterall, no one would hire someone they did not think able to solve their problem.


Travelling along with them, Pauvel started slowly studying his newly found companions. Quite the group, he thought. The reserved man with the peculiar weapon that brought around the death of the two people in the forest, that fateful night, Asrathoth. The leader, with the silver hair and the fearsome spear, named Airrow. The child, Rammie, who's reasons for tagging along were still unknown to him. And of course, the beautiful mage that caught his attention in the first place. The others, he met only briefly. The bestiae who cooked them breakfast the first morning was named Amras. The northener who raised his sword at him was Ruger, a quite amusing individual. The man with one arm was Yurt and the other magic use of the group was Kalhallar. Finally, there was Fae, another good-looking girl, and her tender, Aurora, a priestess, by the looks of it.


He didn't converse much to any of them, aside from the occasional small talk. He did enjoy walking out at night, though, usually taking first watch, while everyone else slept. The night was comforting, it let him relax from the constant tension that had overtaken him during the day, around everybody. Not long they finally reached a city. Making a quick ammo check, Whisper decided he was a few arrows short from the hunting of wild animals. Also, checking his quiver, he realised he had only five of those arrows left. He took out the little note he had in his chest pocket and looked over it.


"I have no materials to make these. Dammit, Thuomas, why did you have to go die on me...." he muttered softly for himself.


After letting out a sigh, he rose to his feet and glanced towards the gate. "Well, I guess there has to be an apothecary of sorts here. Might as well take a look.". He had no idea how to work alchemy, but he had to give it a shot. And perhaps he could grab a pint of ale while he was it. Gods knew he could use one.
 
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Faelynn awoke feeling mountains better than the night before. She opened her eyes and looked around the camp and noticed other people stirring to life as well, even two new people a ruggedly handsome archer and a sweet looking young girl. With them, she also noticed that the Nadia woman who had traveled a little of the ways with them was gone. Fae decided not to question that though. She swallowed, noticing that although her throat was still sore it was less so and for a moment she wasn't sure of that was from Aurora or Kal's soup. Either way she was grateful. She sat up and stretched, thankful even more that her head and broken bones were healed. She could smell Raz's cooking and as tasty as it smelled, her sickness in her chest, throat and at the edges of her stomach told her she couldn't handle food yet so as other's enjoyed the Beastia's cooking, she focused on getting herself together as best as possible.


There wasn't much the young woman could do about her appearance. She did her best to regain some control of her long, wavy, strawberry blond hair that was tangled and in need of a wash and when it came to her torn clothes, she'd just have to take care of that at the next town. In the meantime, she braided her long mane back and wrapped her exposed body in one of the blankets she slept in the night before. When she was finished, she looked around for the horse that was Fox's. She heard it was injured when he tried to escape so now, it was probably dead, since the healer of the group had been attending to her all night. A few yards away from the camp, near lifted parts of earth that looked as if it wasn't there naturally, she found it and thanked Sultra to find the side back was still on it and on the side she could get to. Reaching, she smiled as she pulled a little pouch of coin that Fox hadn't spent on supplies and places it on one of the not ripped folds of her dress. That money would fund her more practical clothing and possibly a bath, and if any left over, some other foods and drink other than wine for the remainder of the trip.


When they set off, Faelynn had taken Airrow's instruction, and rode on the largest horse with Aurora. She was happy that the priestess was still with them on this journey. She was very thankful for her presence and made a mental note to talk to her more when her throat felt better, or when interesting conversation arose. Until then, she'd be thinking of things a Prostitute and a Priestess could talk about. She sighed and shook her head, it sounded like the start to a bad joke. A few hours ride later and the group had made it to the next city. She nodded as Airrow gave orders for people to be back at a certain time and when he was finished the group dispersed. Faelynn was one of the first off her horse and she waited for Aurora to climb down.


"Well, I don't know what your plans are, but I need new clothes and a bath. You're welcome to come with me!" She said, looking up to what hair hung in her face. It was greasy and caked with blood in spots. "We can have a whore, but we can't have a dirty one, okay?" She mused and winked at the priestess, feeling more and more like her old self as the day went on. She gave a small smile and wrapped herself tightly in the blanket, as to not invite any unwanted attention and made her way to the nearest clothing store. It was ran by a man who rose his eyebrow as they woman walked in.


"Can I help you?" He asked, looking down at her from some pedestal Faelynn couldn't find a reason for.


Faelynn shrugged and jumped right in. "I need some pratical clothing. I'm not a fighter so I don't need to pay much for a lot of armor but I'd like security in feeling that next time I take a tumble down a cliff, my clothes wont be completely shredded." She said and started looking at some of the mannequins that were dressed up.


"And if not a fighter, what is it that you do? Farm work perhaps? Are you a... scholar?" He asked, almost as if he was trying not to laugh at his last word.


"I'm a whore." She stated bluntly, "but right now, I'm off duty and traveling a long way so I don't want to necessarily wear the prostitute's uniform. If we have a problem I can go somewhere else." She felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. She let the coin back peek from out from under the blanket and immediately the man's eyes went for it.


"No, no that won't be necessary." He quipped rather quickly and immediately went for the back room and when he returned he was holding an assortment of clothing. "Take your pick, m'dear." He sighed.


When Fae was finished picking out, clothing, and paying she smiled at herself in the dirty mirror. She finally had some more practical clothing for this endeavor, or well, more practical than the dress she had before. Although, she now had boots, pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and a mediocrely made leather vest for better protection, it was still too tight in places and showed her shoulders and top of her cleavage. She looked at the store owner and found a disapproving look.


She felt her excited smile fall little but shrugged instead. "Old habits die hard." She snapped and stomped out of the store and towards the bathhouse.
 
Ramya let her face flush with the short man's flirts, and then he was off to sleep. She watched him walk away until he was away from sight range, which wasn't very far. With that, she found a place on the edge of the group. It was a place far enough away that she wouldn't be caught off-guard were they to come close to her, but not so far that she seemed suspicious. She let her cloak bellow round her like a tent and she settled underneath. After sliding her hood over her head, she settled into her meditation pose, and drifted off into a slumber.

- - - - - - -

​



Ramya awoke before the sun was fully peaked over the horizon. She smelled the spices of the morning breakfast before she spotted the large tiger hybridia preparing the meal. She watched him from under her cloak, or as well as she could see. He was a large, orange blob in her vision. She watched as the camp began to move, slowly waking as the sun rose. When she felt that she was close to the last to wake, she jumped up and spread her arms wide, yawning.


She rubbed her eyes and walked over to the group, grabbing her share of breakfast. She kept her eyes squinty, as if she was still tired, and her movements were slow. She ate quietly, secretly keeping a close eye on everyone in camp. Ramya let the scents of the food come to her nose without raising her bowl. When she was confident that she didn't smell any poisons, she ate. Then, the camp was moving forward. She took to walking behind the group, pretending to be mildly distracted by the woods around them instead of surveying the group. She didn't trust any of them.


When they made camp close to town, she noticed a few of the others leaving to shop not long after the leader had gone. She waited for everyone to occupy themselves before she headed towards town on her own. Passing a poster for the Shadowed Death, this one having the assassin depicted as a young, angular man, she paused and withheld a grin. Always a man, she thought. Never a woman. She would have been offended, had keeping her identity not been of importance to her, or if she cared for her face being known. Let them think that she was a man, she had thought. It will only leave them opposite her direction.


She knew one of her clients was waiting on her arrival a few towns past this one, but she wasn't about to risk having one of the group find out about her from sending a message. Instead, she wandered through town, almost aimlessly. Ramya stopped in a few shops here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary for a young girl. When she was certain that no one had followed her, or that if they were she had lost them, she entered the apothecary. The man at the counter eyed her warily and she smiled innocently at him.


"Hiya, sir!"she squeaked as she approached. "I'm in need of a few things, think yah could help me?"she pulled out a piece of parchment with a few things scrawled across it and slid it across the table. The man raised a brow over the items and she grinned wider. "I can trade yah. Low on any ingredients?"


The man huffed and motioned toward the cabinet behind him. "If you have anything that's low here, I might consider a trade. You have some very pricey items listed,"he said. Ramya was already pulling out a few vials of dried herbs and placing them on the counter. Once she pulled out five, she stopped. "I'll trade yah three of these for mah list,"she bargained. The man's eyes narrowed.


"Nay. Those items cost more than three items."


"These are quality items 'ere, sir! Purest content they are. Better herbs in the makin' that the crude, unfiltered bits you got stored der,"she motioned at the wall violently, faking her frustration.


The merch picked up one of the vials, turning it around in his fingers as he examined it. He popped one of the corks off, and smelled the contents. Ramya struggled to keep her face straight under the strong smell. When he put the cork back into the vial, he eyed the girl suspiciously. "Very well. I'll take three,"he said before choosing his poisons. Ramya put the other two back into their hiding spot inside her cloak and watched as the man fetched her the items from her list.


"Mind if I ask why a young lady like yourself obtained such pure substances?"


"My parents are traveling herb merchants. I learned from dem on the collectin' and dryin'. I'll be sure to tell 'em you appreciated der work,"she said as she placed the items into the pouches in her cloak. With that, she left the shop and pulled the hood over her head. She sunk into the shadows, disappearing on her way back to the camp.


She didn't need the group, but she did recall the leader mentioning pay. If it was a good sum of money, she could find a way for Rammie to be of use. Though, she wasn't so keen on being in a group. Groups were slow, loud, and make it hard to move unseen. It would be annoying at best, she narrowed her eyes at the thought. But the money. If the pay was good enough, she would be able to upgrade her blades, and buy a few more supplies. She didn't worry about the fact that she may not be able to destroy the thing that she was being paid to kill. She had yet to come across something that was impossible to kill, no matter what they were.


Just before she reached the camp, she hid in the branches of a nearby tree, taking the chance to examine her weapons. She extended the blades that were hidden in the forearm of her gloves. The mechanism worked fine and after checking both blades from both gloves, seemed to be in good order. She retracted them. She checked her throwing daggers, her pouches and vials of herbs, and finally made sure the corks were still in place on her assortment of various venom. Once her daily checks were down, she settled back against the tree and watched the movement within the camp. She hadn't been gone for too long, and it didn't seem that many had returned. She vaguely remembered a few of their scents had been present in town, and she assumed that that's where most had gone.


Finally deciding she had disappeared long enough, she hopped out of the tree and pulled back her hood. She created a lot of noise on her walk back. When she was close enough to been seen and heard, she pretended to clumsily get her foot caught under a root or such, tripping just before she reached camp. She giggled, like any daft young girl would do, pushing herself back up. She began dusting off her cloak before finally entering.
 
As Kalhalar entered the town, he smiled to himself, glad that they had started moving again. It seemed to him that the first night of their journey had lasted much longer than usual. Perhaps it had been the events that had happened. The woman, apparently a friend of Airrow’s, injured. Her betrothed killed along with another. But three more had joined the group, one of whom was a healer. All in all, it seemed that the group had come out for the better that night. Fortunately, nothing incidental had happened during the day, though Kal was slightly saddened to know that the children had decided to leave on their own.


Kalhalar looked down at the basket in his hand as he returned his attention to the present. He had money what he wanted, but he didn’t know what it was that he wanted. Still, something would surely catch his eye. And so he walked around town while taking in the various sights, sounds, and smells. Eventually, though, his attention was brought to a man that was almost hidden behind all the other merchants and vendors. He made his way closer to the man, hearing his words of what were apparently healing cats.


“Your cats… heal people?” Kalhalar asked once he reached the merchant.


After a slight delay, the man turned his attention to his would-be customer, a smile on his lips but a wary look in his eyes. “Well, of course,” he replied smoothly, “That is what I have been saying. For quite a while, now. Any disease, my cats can heal them. And don’t worry; I’m sure a man of your status won’t have any trouble buying.”


“Ah, yes. My… status.” Kalhalar avoided looking at the merchant. That smile had never left his face, and that look in his eyes. It almost made Kal feel as if he was being scrutinized. He got that look and that feeling a lot; in fact, Airrow had given him the same look when they had first met, but he still wasn’t used to it. “I… suppose I could buy a few.” It wasn’t every day you came across healing cats, after all.


The merchant’s eyes widened at that last sentence. “Oh, more than one? I feel terribly for whoever must be so horribly sick.” Finally, the smile left his face, to be replaced by one of sorrow and pity. He bowed his head down slightly, but those eyes continued to observe Kalhalar.


Kalhalar waved a hand about, as if hoping to physically wave away the confusion. “No, no one is sick, as far as I know. I’ll be traveling with a group over the mountains, and I-“ he heard some noise come from the merchant, though it wasn’t very clear, “I’m sorry?”


“I said, you cannot bring these cats with you!” the merchant was herding the cats away from Kalhalar as he spoke. “I sell services, not animals! You will not take these cats away from me!” And with that, he gathered the cats in his arms and did his best to run off.


“…How… I… What?” Kalhalar was at a loss for words. And he had just managed to fish his coin out of his basket, too. For several minutes, he stood there, not entirely sure of what to do, or even of what had happened. Eventually, though, he managed to leave the town and make his way back to camp, a confused look still plastered on his face.
 
Aurora woke and felt rested, though not quite as much as she would have liked. Healing took much more out of her than she would freely admit and the night was comparatively short. Roused by the smell of a delicious breakfast, she was relieved to see that her patient was faring better in the morning. The priestess knew the number of saints were of a select few earning such blessing and elevation yet she yearned for that intimacy with her goddess and the power to heal the afflicted. It seemed that the fair Faelynn still suffered under an ailment as she pulled the blanket around her and spoke little. For that matter none of them were particularly talkative as travel was on the day's itinerary and Airrow seemed somewhat anxious to reach their next destination. Aurora thanked the hybridia profusely for the for his cooking, ate swiftly, re-arranged her bag for travel, and retrieved Svet from where he had wandered off munching on more lush grass.


Svet was a rather large horse (being intended for someone more masculine and heavily armored), so Aurora pulled Faelynn onto her horse and sat behind her. He was less than thrilled by the added weight but was disciplined and the pace moderate such that he was not unduly burdened. Seeing as her riding companion was not exactly chatty, Aurora focused on keeping them centered and observing Svet for signs of fatigue. It was not until they reached town that he had started to flick his tail in annoyance and shake his head lightly in irritation. While she had no ability to actually speak with Svet, she was relatively certain he was merely anxious to have some rest and laze around as he had done the night prior. When they made camp he let loose an elated whinny, patiently waiting for the pair to dismount,then frolicked in the grasses for a while before returning to his favorite activity of grazing.


If there were two words to describe Aurora, and only two, they would be simply: nice priestess. From what little conduct the others were able to observe she was polite and armed with more smiles than an assassin with blades. Despite the varied races in their party she showed no signs of bigotry or bias. Although she had a tendency to hum under her breath (and did so on their journey to the next town periodically) she largely kept to herself as conversation did not seem warranted. It was not inaccurate to summarize her person with that subjective adjective and noun either. While others relied on reason, charming persuasion, or deception to bring others into the fold of religion and worship of Sultra, Aurora did not. It was her belief that warm gentleness was how to win affection for Sultra. Additionally, she fervently believed that all of the goddess's creations were sacred and thus treated them as such. That was not to see there were not flaws and fractures of her personality, but Aurora's magnanimity glossed over the imperfections. It took time and patience to reveal the jagged cracks- some of which she was not aware of herself. It was her singular devotion to Sultra that freed her and defined her. She was pious beyond sanity and it consumed almost the entirety of her being. Hobbies and relationships had drifted away or eroded over time and she lacked skills beyond the teachings of the church.


When Aurora was offered to join Faelynn, a slow and genuine smile had spread across her features. Clothes were not necessary (she wore ones for traveling and a couple extra garments in her provisions) but a bath sounded enchanting. It was then that the young woman offered that they could 'share a whore but not a dirty one.' Aurora blinked slowly in what could best be defined as confusion. There was no judgment on her visage, but she had little to no experience with matters outside that of the faithful. A whore? Opportunities had arisen over her years to indulge romantic notions, but she had never given it thought. Did Faelynn think her wanting a woman's comfort? Had she stepped outside of some unknown boundary the night before and insinuated preference for her own sex? "I'll would love to come with you, but I'm afraid you might have the wrong impression of me. I've no preference for another lady like that." It was possibly a joke, but Aurora wanted to be certain. It wasn't totally unheard of for one to have feelings for a caretaker after they were healed, though this was certainly the first time she knew of a shared whore was offered.


When she followed to the clothing shoppe, Aurora stood and waited while Faelynn spoke with the shopkeeper. Her eyebrows raised briefly once when it was bluntly revealed that Faelynn was herself a prostitute, but she did not reprimand or make any commentary. If Faelynn left her profession and was converted it would be because she had seen the light of Sultra through Aurora's action. Chastising, in Aurora's opinion, did nothing to make sincerely devout followers. More importantly she didn't believe she had a right to judge another person's character as only Sultra knew them thoroughly and intimately.


This did not, however, stop the shopkeeper from staring at Aurora a few times. It was clear she had come with Faelynn and a chain with a holy symbol was displayed prominently on her person. As graceful as she was, Aurora did not appear to be completely prepared for this sort of socialization. She shrugged and gave a puzzled look the first time he stared at her accusingly (for 'endorsing' Faelynn or another imagined sin), smiled at him the second time he pointedly gave her a disapproving glance, and the third time waggled her fingers in a wave. He was not amused by her actions nor impressed by her accepting attitude.


As they exited the store, Faelynn bounding happily towards the bath house with renewed vigor, Aurora finally spoke up. "I think it looks lovely. Your new outfit, that is. I expect you have no shortage of admirers." It almost sounded like flirting, but it was just the priestess being her typical complimentary self- and clueless. Her dress was practical and gave no real consideration for looking appealing. Hell, it took just one glance to surmise that what few slightly-above-average assets Aurora had she was completely unaware of. Pet cats spent more time trying to make themselves pretty than the engrossed-in-her-studies healer did. She knew that women like Aesriel and Faelynn would always be superior, so she did not put forth any effort herself. And to what end would it serve? Before now there was no time to attract a man even if she had a reason.


They could not be more different in life experiences and goals, but this did not bother Aurora in the least.
 
While it may have appeared that he slept soundly, with all the noises and ruckus and the events, as well as the smell of blood and death along with the highest of emotions among the group, sleep, for lack of a better word, was non existent. However, this was something he was all to familiar with. Slave labor was exactly that and only after running a week with little sleep would your body finally cave in. Even with only a few hours rest, Raz was completely refreshed. Being on the the firsts, he did exactly as he was taught, to prep and serve breakfast to those who had awoken.


The food would not of been bad. His own taste was extremely mild to that of a Humes, yet from years of practice and training, there were certain things you just seemed to remember. Temperature, time and seasoning. Temps were to be kept low, and in the case of a fire pit, distance controlled heat. Time was second; if too long, obviously it would burn and too short, they would complain about it being uncooked. While that was never an issue for him, he had a preference to eating cooked stuff. It was more about being like the others and less animal like. Lastly came seasoning and in moderation. Others could always add basic spices, but one spoiled, you could not remove them. It was like the words of her voice echoing in his head. It gave him relaxation, and comfort and at the same time sorrow and sadness. Without realizing it, he had already completely cooked the meal with enough for everyone who wanted some. Ending it with the clatter of pots and pans, he followed in hand as everything moved forward.


With graceful swiftness, supplies were gathered, steeds packed and almost like a machine they set off for distant lands once again. Somehow during the night, he realized even more people had showed up and a few had left. The poor boy who’s arm he had cleaved and his young maiden seemed to of left, as well as one of their followers, and Fox, that evil, foul acting man had been slain but not before he took another’s life. All of it a shame, but unaffecting of the Bestia. He neither harbored emotions, nor responsibility of them. His only word was to that of Airs and surely should the man need anything of the hulking man-beast, he would of asked.


Alas, after much time passed, they came to the boarders of the City known as,well, that actually wasn’t important. Tying up his own horse, with that of the others, most if not all of them took off on foot into town. Their whereabouts unknown to Raz, but it was made known that if they did not return by a certain time, Sir Arrow Airs would of casually shrugged them off and continue on his quest.


Mounting himself on a rock that happened to be leaning against a tree, Raz placed his blade upon his lap. Both legs spread in a V and the weapon itself slanted across both of them. Within the pouch on his hip, was a half hand sized whetstone or pocket stone if one preferred. Unlatching it with two fingers, his hand casually slid into the pouch and pulled out a large piece of cloth. Within it was a few items for his job.


Closing his legs a little, he carefully unwrapped the contents of the cloth, there was the whetstone, a two grades of cotton cloth, a small wooden box with a cork on one side of the top, probably about half the size of the whetstone. One cloth was lightly moistened with the oil of the wooden box and the other cloth was dark and dirty, stained in the colors of slate. Taking both of clothes, the box and the stone, Amras carefully sat them beside him on the stump.


Pretty soon, he was alone there at the camp. Maybe one or two stayed, but they were quiet enough that he did not hear them. Taking the lightly oiled cloth, he began to rub the blade down vigorously, using small swirls to finally polish dirt, blood and debris from the blade. It took the grime right off and left the vibrant steel to shine with the sun. Raz left no spot uncleaned, using it to also polish the hilt and another other metallic areas of the blade. After some time of this, he took the stone, dribbling a few drops on the stone itself before rubbing them in with his finger and finally he set the stone at the base of the blade and with slightest of pressure, slid it along the edge at a very long angle.


As it glided along the edge, he could feel every little bur and scratch upon the blade. Upon looking at this closing, one could see that the blade was well used, groves and scars within the steel, from crashing into steel, its edge, like a small serrated knife but as long as a child is tall. But this stone, it smoothed them out and brought the blade back to perfection with each pass. Slow steady and consistent. That's all that was required to work the edge back to a point that could cleave flesh and bone with a single swing. For some, sharpening was a hassle, but for Raz, it was like a scholar reading an ancient scroll, or a priest speaking with their Diety. It was a warrior honing his tool to which he shaped the battlefield. It was calming and reassuring because sharpening a blade meant you lived to fight with it once more.


Much time passed; with each edge, Raz would polish, sharpen, wipe down the debris and polish again. He did this to all four edges before starting on his short sword. The Bestia just kind of zoned out and continuing, only realizing he had finished when people started to return to the camp.


The first was a daft young girl, Hybridia of sorts. Though Raz forgot her name, or maybe she had never actually introduced herself to him. Either way it faced him not as she face planted into the dirt. It was hard to judge anyone at this time as his calculations about almost everyone had been wrong, so for now, he decided to judge them by their actions.


Amras snorted loudly as she came in, giggling as if nothing happened at all and his eyes shifted to the man known as Kal, his face still as confused looking as when he left. Smirking, Raz collected his supplies neatly and ushered them back into their pouch. With swords back upon him, he crossed his arms and leaned back against the tree, watching.


Though he did speak common language. Without knowing everyone, he was unsure of how to even start a conversation. Not that he wanted to converse anyways.
 
When Aurora had said something about Faelynn having the wrong impression of her before they left the camp, Fae had barely heard it so didn't pay much mind but, now that they were done shopping for new clothes and were making their way to the bathhouse, It suddenly dawned on Faelynn what she had meant. The newly clad woman stopped in her tracks and immediately let out a big laugh. She turned to Aurora and gave a wide goofy smile. It was adorable and amusing how at the time, she couldn't tell that Faelynn was making a joke about herself. It led her to believe that she may be way more innocent than she originally pegged her for, and she was wearing a giant cross on her dress, that yelled pretty damn innocent to her.


"Haha! I understand what you meant now!" She giggled. "Trust me, I don't think even I have the audacity to offer sharing a whore with a priestess." She laughed again before continuing her walk towards the bathhouse.


She smiled when Aurora complimented her. "Thank you... well, I used to have admirers.. haha." She gave a look that gave away some deeper feelings below the humor and fun that she always wore. "They are... were, all in Zephyr I suppose." She added, feeling a twinge of guilt for all her friends and sisters she'd lost there. She realized she hadn't given herself time to mourn them between being kidnapped and near death. "The only one still around, that I even know is alive is Airrow an-." She cut herself off, feeling another stab of guilt, that probably something she shouldn't have shared. She was pretty sure the leader of their group didn't want everyone to know his steamy past with a lady of the night, at the same time, she felt like she could trust this woman after all, she had healed her broken body and accompanied her into the city despite believing that she was going to be forced to share a whore with a whore. She decided to change the subject nonetheless.


"Well, for a small city, they sure do have a large bathhouse." She said as she looked at the large, lavishly designed building. When they got closer to it she saw why, it was advertising in a large sign next to the door that raved about bathing in the healing waters of the natural nearby mountain mineral spring. She walked into the building and met with a woman wo accepted their coin and led them to a large bathing room that looked like a swimming pool basically.


"The cloth to dry yourselves are along this wall, and we have scented oils for your bathing pleasure." The young woman smiled and pointed to where each thing was. "Enjoy." She added before leaving.


Faelynn gave an impressed look and nooded before undressing. Of course she wasn't shy so without thinking she dropped the clothing before even waiting for any sign of discomfort from Aurora, and stepped in. "Alright..." She sighed as she slowly waded into the cool water and shivered. "Lets wash this hair... heal this minor infection." She said excitedly as she reached across the edge of the bath and grabbed some scented oil. "My Sultra, this bath is cold, looks like I won't be able to enjoy it as much as I'd hoped. In Zephyr the bathhouse wasn't as impressive as this but atleast we got hot water in the tiny individual tubs." She sighed and dipped her head back into the water. She looked over to Aurora and smiled.


"If you're feeling shy, wrap a towel around you." She gave a small giggle and went back to washing all the crusted blood and dirt from her long hair. She gave a small smile as she realized herself, how opposite they were, but it didn't bother her at all, infact it was pretty amusing to see the differences between them occur and really, Fae just hoped she didn't make the woman uncomfortable to the point of not wanting to be around.


"Tell me something, Priestess, how did you even become a priestess?" She asked, wondering how two girls, both having to start out the same, small babies with everything in common turn to two completely different paths in life. Surely, she wasn't sold to the church like Faelynn was to cloud nine.
 
Aurora was a little surprised at the admission that Airrow was one of Faelynn's admirers. That being said, the revelation was not all that shocking. Though she had never had any sort of relationship with a man, she wasn't so naive to not know about what the profession of a prostitute entailed. Just thinking of it made her flush in a childlike manner (which was completely embarrassing) as it was difficult to imagine without experience. Most of the people Aurora cared about in Hinxworth and Zephyr had had differences in opinions, past history, and personalities that were both exciting and difficult to understand. Almost all of them enjoyed the company of the other sex and had a certain craving for the attention and affection coupled with it. Had she not been so completely immersed in her studies and pursuit of Sultra's blessings she may had yearned for herself. The days outside the church at times made her feel incredibly solitary: as if her whispering goddess was the only existence besides her.


As Faelynn wandered through the crowd, Aurora's pace slowed as she studied them. Laughing and smiling, scowling and yelling, running, flirting, weeping... it was a startling range of emotions and interaction. Sultra had led her away from the bustling metropolis that had last been her home, but now that she found herself in a town again she couldn't help put ponder. What direction was she being led in? Did all these people contain a wisdom alien to her due to the breadth of their situations with each other? Was she shunning some parts of life and not appreciating all of Sultra's gifts? Some of her siblings had wed since her departure, giving her nieces and nephews she had yet to meet. One sister didn't care for her husband according to the letters, but another was madly in love and full of joy that was impossible for the single priestess to understand. Aurora had her own sense of happiness and a path that was independent of her family, or even the common woman, but it was challenging. She was unlikely to be a mother or wed. That had never bothered her before as her fixation was squarely on serving Sultra through her healing touch and empathetic nature. But what if Sultra desired something more than that simplicity for her follower?


As they entered the bath house, Aurora was obviously distracted. She paid for the services and smiled demurely, but her gaze reached beyond the walls and attendant. It was not until Faelynn was undressing that she let out a small sigh and slipped back to the present situation. Bathing. She was not unsettled by the other female's nudity as the church couldn't always provide her own private, separate quarters and she had been one of several children at adolescence. Aurora quickly slipped out of her clothing and into the water, submerging briefly so the shock of the frigid water would be over as quickly as possible. Smudges on her cheeks were whisked away and the dark blonde hair darkened to a deep gold as it was saturated with liquid.


"You can just call me Aurora," she responded to the question with a soft smile. "I was drawn to it," she admitted, both humble and bashful. "My parents are both farmers in Hinxworth and five of my six siblings are much of the same. I didn't dislike it, but I'm afraid I wasn't suited for it like they were. I listened to the preachings and I thought they were just so beautiful and inspiring. I started to study zázrak and found I was quite good at it. It sounds silly to most, but I was enthralled by the idea of helping others and they transferred me to Zephyr for advanced teachings several years ago. It's felt as if... Sultra has always been watching me and quietly guiding me. I believe it's what I am meant to do as I'm not good at anything else. I'm useless with a sword and shield, I'm not pretty enough to wed well, and I've no talent for the arts." The gentle criticism of her failings were not a manifestation of any insecurity. They were a statement of fact as Aurora saw it so she could best explain why she was a priestess when there were so many other possibilities in the world.


"I apologize, that was a longer answer than you probably needed. I'm not sure I understand what you and Sir Airrow mean to do on this adventure, but I am certain I was led to you all for a reason- to save you for a reason. You've no other healer, so I will tend to all of you as best I can." A bright, optimistic smile was gifted to Faelynn. Aurora undoubtedly knew there was malice in the world, but she had already but an alarming amount of trust and caring into the other woman without any suspicions. Undoubtedly her fervent faith in Sultra's guidance was at hand here, but a portion of it was also pure selflessness to a fault.


Aurora turned towards the oils and determined very quickly it was not worth putting that much effort into her hair. Even if she had paid for the opportunity to use them, it would be wasted. "He was very worried about you when I got there, you know. It's wonderful to have someone care about you so much." She picked up a bottle and inspected it, looking generally clueless and wondering if they had utilized actual healing herbs of importance or if it was just scented nonsense.
 
Faelynn smiled. "Aurora it is then."She said as she carefully worked the floral scented oil through the tough to clean areas of her hair. She nodded as she listened to the woman's story and found herself laughing again as she described herself as not being pretty enough to wed. Really, it was the way she stated it, as if she was reciting facts, scribbled over parchment, as if someone had told her that long ago and she just took it as simple fact over opinion. Fae lifted her eyes and the first thing she saw was cascading golden hair that draped over her shoulders and pooled around her in the water, then her face, it was pretty, perhaps not gorgeous like a goddess or a queen but really, who was? She had good skin and a nice complexion and in Fae's book that was more than enough to wed. She was also pure, something men would line up with their most valuable items to take her as their bride for if they could.


She sighed and let herself sink a little further into the cool water, rinsing the oil from her hair and sat back up, listening to Aurora apologize for sharing a piece of herself. Faelynn giggled again then practically choked on the laugh as she felt a wave of shock hit her from the words Airrow and you. She swallowed hard, taking a small note that her throat felt miles better, and settled down before looking down at her hands in the clear water. "Well, I wouldn't say Airrow and I are meaning to do anything together persay, I know he is after the God that destroyed our home and I-... well, I wouldn't even be here now if it wasn't for Fox... you didn't get the pleasure of meeting him..." She let the word drip with venom as she lifted her eyes to meet Aurora's once again. "The entire reason I even needed a healer was because of him. He tried to kill me by throwing me over the cliff. I don't know what kind of bandit he was before meeting me but, I don't think he was as good as he liked to think." She said, feeling a small smile creep into her features from the pleasure of insulting her captor. "In a way I'm glad though, If not for him kidnapping me, I would probably never have spoken to Airrow again or met you, or any of the others traveling with us." She said with a happy little smile, and climbed out of the pool, finished with her bath. She grabbed a large soft cloth and dried herself off a bit before slipping back into her new clothing.


"You're right though- eh~" She grunted as she forced a boot back over her damp foot and leg. "We do need a healer, and I'm glad you're the one who stumbled upon our camp." She took a breath and looked down at her feet, satisfied with how it looked and stood up. "Oh." She breathed in response to Aurora's last statement, and felt her cheeks and ears flush, which only then made her feel pretty ridiculous seeing as how she's a prostitute and she hadn't blushed over a man since she was given attention for the first few times after being sold to the Cloud Nine. She cleared her throat and cracked her neck in attempted to swat the butterflies that decided to reactivate in her stomach and took a dep breath.


"Well, I still have coin left over, so if you will accompany me, my dear Priestess, I have one more place I'd like for us to go." She said, a coy little smile playing across her pink lips.
 
Yurt did not expect for that night to have dragged on for so long nor had he expected that so much could have happened in that one night. It was impossible to think it, yet it happened all the same. Usually, things like these would take days but it seemed as though fate would have its own way. He expected nothing less on this quest when everything seemed to be stacked against them despite their swelling numbers. Any one of these people could die or abandon the quest entirely. Out of all of them, it may just be Airrow who would really see all this to its bitter end.


The morning was introduced to them alongside a very hearty breakfast. They had broke camp and were back on the road. Everyone was talking among each other, all of them had life. Yurt simply kept quiet on his own, keeping his eyes open for any threats that may present itself. Besides, it was not as though he actually had a companion with any of them. Ruger was kin only because Ruger was from the North, Ezri only ever fought beside him and that was only once. If only the boy who had singlehandedly slain a troll was here, he could has asked the boy to teach him how to fell such a beast in just one strike.


Before long, Airrow had commanded them to resupply at a town that was on their way to the north. Yurt was content with his possessions and so no need to enter the town proper. Ezri, however, had plans for both of them as she insisted he come along with her to the town. He gave in quite easily to avoid inconveniencing the girl. Perhaps he might have need of a resupply as well and it would never hurt to escort the person who has fought and bled beside him. More to the point, it broke the monotony of being alone.


She led them around town, while he simply listened to her banter about a wide assortment of topics that breached various depths of one sided conversation. He knew not that they were looking for, else he could have helped her search. Instead she just continued speaking without a care in the world before gradually growing quiet.


"What do I think of them? I don't think about them. They signed on with our party and possibly know the risks, else they may have some agendas of their own and may turn their back at any given moment. Call me paranoid but I'd rather prepare for the worst that would happen. Our quest is hazardous, true enough and yet here we are on the path to danger. Exactly what are we looking for Ezri? I may be able to help and maybe we could stop circling this entire portion of the market several times over."


In truth, he had not been paying attention to who had came and went with their party. He was with them to guide them to the north and to slay a being that was, for all meaning, larger than him and all of them. He might die but it will be a glorious death in combat.
 
His friends were gone when the day arrived, the light of the blazing sun swallowed the soothing darkness and the eyes of his fallen comrades. Ruger's eyes snapped open to the view of the clear sky. While this would have been a welcome greeting to any other, Ruger instead felt a chasm in his heart, a gaping wound that could not be filled by anything else. This wound would only fester and widen in time to come, and all Ruger could do was kill, and kill, and kill, to prevent it from doing so. Even then, he could not save everyone. His mind began to wander, and even the tantalising aroma of breakfast could not enrapture him. Instead, he set about sharpening his sword with a small whetstone, the shrill scrape of stone against metal rhythmically ringing through the camp until the party decided to move on.


During the journey, Ruger caught sight of a familiar face on a horse as a small group of knights charged past them. He raised his hand in greeting as they passed, but Crusoe only had time to nod in reply, before being forced to keep up with his own troop. It was an odd feeling to see Crusoe decked in a knight's armor and on horseback. Ruger was both envious and proud, that one of his comrades had stepped up over the mercenary life and made a name for himself to become a knight. Ruger lapsed back into thoughtful silence, pausing once or twice to lighten the mood with his japes and inapropos anecdotes. The journey was filled with something that sounded like


"This one time, Ruger find bear in forest, very hungry, and looking at Ruger like breakfasting time. You should have be seeing size of thing, twice Ruger height, and twice Ruger width. It was giant, like the giant scary man in group...." and so on and so forth.


When they arrived at the next town over, they set up another camp, which didn't trouble Ruger much, seeing as his pnly comfort was his sword and less else. He left the camp to wander around the town, taking in the smell of civilisation, the smell of life and the living. People streaming everywhere, activity, noise and, of course, pretty ladies. Of course, something else took precedence over the charming of ladies. He sauntered over to the armory, casting an eye over the wares. As the shopkeeper opened his mouth to tout his wares, Ruger dropped a bag of coins on the table, spilling its contents noisily.


"Shield, best one, you will be passing to Ruger."


Shut up by the monetary profit and the general way Ruger carried himself, the shopkeeper scurried off to fetch a shield. The first was a simple round buckler. Ruger took it, raised it to his face, staring at the steel, then punched it. He, then set the slightly dented shield down.


"No good. Give Ruger stronger shield. This one is strong like baby ram."


This process repeated itself over and over through a period of time, with Ruger making an impression on both the shields and the shopkeeper with each shield he took hold of. After almost exhausting the shop's supply of shields, he finally grabbed hold of a heater shield, a simple, faded blue metal chunk, that had seen more than a single battle, it seemed. The paint had scratched off here and there, and had sharp dents in it pockmarking its face.


"Surely this one wouldn't interest you, sir."


"You do not do the judging by the book covering only. You do the test of mettle." Ruger winked, and proceeded to perform the same practice with it. He raised the shield, brought his fist onto it. The shield did not deform. Ruger rubbed his chin in thought, then slipped the shield onto his arm, then smashed the counter with it. The paint scratched off more, but the shield remained untouched. There was nothing to be said about it. Ruger, satisfied, shoveled a bunch of coins into the keeper's hand, and strode out back to the camp, looking very satisfied with himself.
 
Aurora listened to Faelynn and watched as she spoke. A variety of expressions crossed the other woman's features and seeped into her tone and inflection. Amusement, anger, relief, joy, bashfulness. Though the prostitute might think herself very different from the priestess, they had more in common than might be visible on the exterior. Aurora did not typically indulge all of her emotions but she had them all the same- just like any other human being. Empathy poured through her own visage at the recollection of the tale: Fox's murderous attempt, Faelynn's near death experience as a consequence, and reuniting with Airrow serendipitously. It was the sins of a bandit that had taken the whore from her home in Zephyr and tossed her off a cliff. As horrifying an ordeal as that was, it had landed her into the company of a brave and virtuous man that cared for Faelynn with no judgment that Aurora observed. When she had arrived he had been consumed with concern for her well-being alone. Aurora had also been guided to her camp, healing her of most of the afflictions. How mysterious was the world! While Aurora preferred to believe that Sultra had not put Faelynn through a trial to arrive at this point in space and time, she could not dismiss its possibility.


As the blush spread across the other woman's cheeks, Aurora decided it was time to exit the bath. She put down the oils she had been inspecting and sniffing (for traces of a medicinal herb) and slowly climbed out. The air felt warm and inviting after the chilled water and she eagerly wrapped a towel around her, huddling in it for warmth a second. The hair plastered to the back of her neck and shoulders were the true culprit for the lingering cold that kept her uncomfortably cool. Once she had cut it short in frustration at the minor maintenance it required. The portrait it had created was still the subject of many laughs back at the Hinxworth church for several reasons- it had made Aurora look almost pre-pubescent in the face, it had hopelessly tangled in a wild mane around her face, and once she been mistaken as a boy from behind.


Faelynn dressed with anxious movements as a result of Aurora's mention of Airrow's fretting. Another characteristic smile spread on her lips, giving her a rosy glow as she toweled herself dry quickly. How odd a match it was. There were no tales of a knight rescuing a lady of the night from an evil-doer, yet that was almost precisely what had taken place. Then again, every little girl was told she was a princess if they had a doting parent. Could Faelynn not be one deep in her heart? Did not all of Sultra's creations deserve their own chance at happiness no matter their vices and afflictions?


"We can go wherever you like. I do not need supplies, myself," she softly assured as she leapt out of the comfort of the towel and threw on her clothes as quickly as possible. It was almost akin to watching a shy wallflower trying to avoid attention or a child urgently dressing to get out and play. Neither was applicable to Aurora, as she made little "brrrr" noises under her breath as she wiggled into her snug breeches, danced into her boots, wrestled on her blouse, and tossed on her cloak. The dark golden hair was still dripping wet, saturating the dry clothing where it rested and a subtle chatter was threatening to seize hold of her teeth. "After you," she motioned and tried to wait patiently while concealing a shiver.
 
Aesriel continued to glance at the signs hung above the shop doors as they walked through the town. Spotting the bathhouse, she wished she had thought to arrange for a trip there. It would not be proper for Yurt to accompany her there (even the thought was embarrassing), so she hoped she might have time later. The sun’s position in the sky did not look promising.


Yurt’s answer to her query took a completely different approach to the dilemma of their new companions. Aesri had been attempting to ask if he thought they were dangerous. He apparently thought everyone was dangerous, or prepared himself for the eventuality that they would turn on him. Did he think the same of her? Probably. Although the thought offended her to some degree, she could also understand why he held that perspective. He hadn’t told her how he had lost his arm, but even the best possible story around the event included a tragic ending.


Before her thoughts could meander too far down that path, Yurt grounded her back in the present by asking what they were looking for. “I thought I told you,” she said, mentally tracing back her conversation as they had meandered to the small city. “An apothecary. I need some components to assist with magic.” She motioned to the signs. “Usually their signs will feature an image of herbs, or a mortar and pestle.”


It only took her a few steps before she pointed to a sign ahead on the right. The sign above it did, in fact, feature a mortar and pestle, with piles of colorful powders piled up around it. Above the image, a single word was written in a sweeping script: Twillery’s. Aesriel grinned. “Like that.”


Quickening her steps toward the shop, she looked at Yurt with a slightly furrowed brow. “My apologies. I hope you will speak up if you see something you need or that sparks your interest.” She truly was embarrassed about failing to explain her purpose. How could she be so absent minded? Perhaps the exertion of the past day and the lack of sleep were wearing on her.


The moment they stepped into the shop, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The clean, crisp scent of a hundred different herbs hit her, bringing her instantly back to her days of study in Ashland. Her expression grew wistful.


Twillery’s was a large apothecary, well stocked and organized, with shelves arranged carefully. A tall man in robes with short, messy brown hair and dark green eyes was speaking to an older woman on the far side of the room, handing over a bundle of herbs as he did so. He looked toward the door as they entered, instantly sizing up the pair and flashing them a merchant’s practiced smile. “Welcome to Twillery’s.” He pointed to the jars around the room, causing the light to catch a copper bracelet of a snake coiled around his left wrist. “Everything’s labeled. Please mind the signs; if in doubt, do not touch. If you need assistance, I will be with you in a moment, or my assistant can ... assist.” He turned his attention back to the gray-haired woman. Aside from the shopkeeper and his elderly customer, there was no one else currently in sight.


A large portion of the store was dedicated to herbs, powders, and tinctures, but Aesri walked right past them. The rarer items that served well as foci for mages sat on shelves behind the counter. Glass forged from lightning for tapping into the power of storms, elemental stones made from lava to assist with controlling magma and fire, rings and pendants designed for Mages and Sages. Perfect for her. She walked in that direction almost immediately.


“Yurt, if you had to choose an element to arm yourself with for our task - fire, water, ice, wind, earth, lightning - what would it be? What will be most useful in the North?” Her eyes scanned the shelves. Controlling fire might be useful defensively, but what might damage the monster that had leveled Zephyr and killed her father? Was she a fool for even thinking it possible?
 
Yurt allowed his companion her momentary fit. She may have been stressed by the night's events and he could not exactly blame her. Not everyone was fit for this kind of job but she stepped up regardless. That took courage and Yurt respected her decision.


However, now they had a clear goal in mind instead of mindless meandering about until they find what it was Ezri was looking for. He did not even have to look far or wide for this apothecary that Ezri was looking for. She had spotted the building herself. It was a building with a sign that had nothing except for a mortal and pestle, like Ezri said. Additionally, they were looking for components to augment her magic but he could not help with that issue. He was not a herbalist and magic would only ever stay as magic to him, unintelligible and far too complicated for his mind. At the end of the day, he would still choose steel.


"It is alright, Ezri. You seem tired and tired makes mistakes. Let us just get what you need and I'll not weigh you down for the rest of the day. However, I would advise you take a break."


Yurt had half a mind to just wait by the side while Ezri went about gathering her supplies. A concern strayed into his mind though, did she even have enough to pay for what she may purchase? The tall man had welcomed them like any self-respecting shop owner did: Goods first, customers second. That was always the rule he was taught as he rehabilitated in a backwater border town up in the north.


Instead of leaving Ezri alone, he opted to become her shadow and just follow her wherever she was headed. Maybe she would be buy many things and she would need a helping hand to carry them over to the counters. Botanical ingredients, powders and potions didn't seem to interest her in the slightest. She instead went straight toward the jewelry as well as a myriad of item his head could only see as nothing too special. However, it held Ezri's interest which meant these were for magic.


An unexpected question came from Ezri. Yurt was sure she was fixated on whatever those things were.


"In the north? The climes in the north differ vastly from each other, though if I were to recommend an element, I suppose I would say fire. We'll need to learn how to control the fire that burns in the Northern lands. The fire would ward off the cold and there isn't much problem if things get too warm.....I don't exactly know. I'm have no experience in magic and barely know how it works Ezri. I'm sorry."
 
When Kalhalar made his return to the temporary camp, he looked as befuddled as ever. Really, it was a wonder of how Kal ever made it by on his lonesome in the first place. It seemed people always had the wrong idea about Kalhalar. The idea seemed to stem that he was a reclusive man, but really Airrow some him as somewhat socially inept. More or else, Kalhalar simply lacked the honest capability of approaching anybody else. Man could be swindled twice in a row by the same gambit and come back to the swindler for more. Airrow wondered if his friend had just come back from being sold a day old pie slice.


Thinking back to when they first met, Airrow could only really locate to a day on the road. Finding a stranger having a lonesome picnic and a sense of pity causing Airrow to stop and say, well, anything. It was a short encounter, a trade of "where headed," and "what for". They were actually headed in the opposite direction, but Airrow couldn't stop himself from inviting Kal for the trip to the temple where his sister was stayed. Surprisingly enough, they rode out together and stayed together since that encounter. Airrow never really asked himself strongly, though, what was Kalhalar looking for. Honestly, Airrow would guess it to be some type of cuisine.


"Ho, Kal, friend." Airrow called out to the foolish fellow. "Sit with me, let us ponder our journey thus far, I've yet to have strong opinions from your well traveled mind." He patted the spot next to him and began, even before Kal decided to make his way over, not like he'd actually pay attention anyhow.


"We'll scaling the mountains soon enough. Hopefully we've beaten the winter season, else the actual crossing may be bothersome. What say you, Kal, tell me of a time of winter crossing that you have trekked. Over a lake I wonder, perhaps across a sea. That's a sight I could definitely envision, Kalhalar, the man who walked upon water. Then to be revealed that you stood on turtles that you had befriended, like the many deer you surrender your picnic foods to. What of all those animals, Kal. How is it they take such keen liking to you. As if you were indeed a watering hole that echoed like a siren's call. If only that call worked on women, though. So far, every girl you've been near had found some reason or other to squander elsewhere, even the ones I paid for. I swear, friend, I don't know anyway to repay you for your unyielding acquaintanceship. Only danger seeks me, yet you hang onto my heels like a babe onto a tit. Or perhaps I am wrong there. Some situations I only found myself in due to your fancying of wandering. Like a cat, you may have many lives, but that curiosity will get you killed. As well, even with your excited ways, you never dwell into places of enclosure. The sky and sea seems your friend, correct. Oh the difficulty of bringing you underground. Remember when you vomited on my sister? Then you fainted on Gyro. Makes me wonder of your childhood, something traumatizing, perhaps? I won't pry, friend, but you should work something out about that. You may never know when you must go underneath the surface of Terryal. The truth is always tucked deep below. Right then, the mountains. How long do you think we'll take? By Sultra, why would I ask you? You move slower than a dead man's sword. You know, I considered tying you to my horse once, just to keep you from stopping and having one of your uncalled for picnics. While I do not wish to pull you from your love of life, I wish you would at least respect the amount of haste that the rest of the world moved in. We can't all wait for you, friend. But I guess, perhaps, that is a bad thing. Maybe if we all moved at your pace we wouldn't be in such terrible ways."


Airrow paused shortly, taking in some air.


"So, what was it you wanted?"
 
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