The Hunter, The Sword, The Sister, The Awesome[Marishka]

[Jaeden Kincade]

19th Day of Spring, 510 AV Jaeden was in the middle of the forest, his camp already set up and a fire echoing out snaps as some of the wood tossed onto wasn't fully dried out. The slight sent of the burning wood lingered in the air as a slight breeze carried smoke towards the south east. Animals echoed their calls in continuous rituals for mating as rays of sunlight shined and faded in patches along the forest floor as clouds passed by. Rain was a possibility later on in the day. He was planning another hunting trip in the forest. He had enough rations to last him a week after his previous trip, and he discovered that his body sled could hold so much more meat in it. Though he didn't get to hunting strait away this time around. This time he decided to devote his first day to training. His time back in Syliras, training with one of their knights, reminded him that there were those better than him, and another encounter may prove to be not so friendly. Jaden's hands were pressed along the ground as he stood along his hands, which were close together forming a diamond shape with his index fingers and thumbs, as his feet were in the air, leaned along a tree for balance. Grunts and slow exhales were taken as he lowered his body towards the ground, his nose nearly touching the surface of the root from the tree that stared back up at him with this silly instructor like face that called him all sorts of names to insult how weak he was. Perhaps such was blood rushing to Jaeden's head from being upside down, but it pushed Jaeden on none the less. Sweat rolled up his chest and dripped off the tip of his chin and brow each time he pushed himself upward, the heals of his boots lightly scratching along the surface of the tree's bark. His longsword rested in a lean along the side of the tree Jaeden used for balance, he would move on to that next. For the moment, however, he wished to train his body as the law of the wild always applied to those who came from the cities, and Jaeden learned he had to be strong to survive.

[Marishka Timandre]

Not far from where Jaeden was honing his body, another figure walked in beauty by the lonesome woods, with the deep mysticism in the atmosphere serenading her senses with idle thoughts of clarity and contentment. A hood of dusty gray adorned her body, underneath of which was a dark silk suit and some assorted pieces of armor. Her high leather boots touched the fresh soil and verdant grass of the area with a soft reverence for the silence, only broken in intervals by the cawing of birds and the crunching of branches. White hands with the radiance of moonlight hovered over stone monoliths and slippery moss, as if communicating with the spirits and memories that haunted the place. There was just something about the Cobalt Mountains that piqued at the woman's desire to explore, filled to the brim with sights and reveries that made her more susceptible to smile and feel excitement, which is quite rare for her. Just earlier she had been exploring some ancient ruins that carried ancient runic symbols and broken elaborate carvings of faces, faces that have had their names disappear in the mists of history. Now she was simply enjoying the wonders which nature offered her, taking everything with a peaceful heart that had all but forgotten how to feel lonely. There were no perusing eyes and malicious intents from men she did not even know, no jealous women raising their eyebrows at her, no meddlesome peddlers working at her perceived gullibility to sell their wares, no arrogance, no spite. In the depths of the woods, where she felt safe and secure in her solitude, she was all smiles and cheers. The smell of the camp's smoke and fire did not faze her, nor did it catch her attention immediately in the lucidity of her thoughts. It only came off as natural and usual to her, for there should be smoke and fire in forests every now and then. Complacency settled in deep, there couldn't possibly be anyone else in this particular part of the forest, could there? She had met Conor and Diem in more familiar parts of the woods some time ago, an encounter which was interesting, though somewhat taxing to her due to the young warrior's insistence of his apologies and clamoring for her attention. It was when she heard that long grunts and passionate exertions of work and training as she approached the clearing that she snapped back into reality, her sweet smile and brilliant eyes replaced by her far more common frown and darker tones. In an instant, she was no longer the Marishka who enjoyed nature and historical ruins with glee. She had once again become the Lightning Countess, the stoic, cold-blooded fighter Marishka Timandre. Her manner walking began to burst out of its gentleness as she began to traverse the last remaining meters with a swiftness that seemed almost raging. When she reached the edge of the camp, her flowing cloak settling down from the speed of her instance. Hard eyes of gleaming amethyst observed the camp and the man by the tree, taking particular interest in the longsword that rested beside him. "Quite a peculiar place to be training oneself, is it not my friend?" she declared in a voice that bordered on haughty and arrogant. Her mind shifted with thoughts and speculations, first and foremost of which would be the possibility of him being a bandit or a renegade soldier. Underneath her cloak the woman's hands moved to the hilt of her own silver-laden sword, perfect in sharpness and craftsmanship.

[Jaeden Kincade]

Jaeden paused as his arms, taught with tension, were stretched to the full extent they could be in his current position. His eyes first caught the boots of this glimmering beauty walking into his camp site, and they slowly made their way up as the fine cloak was noted, not being the common ragged variety one would often find among travelers of the woods. The slight shimmer of plates of armor was second. Generally, a hunter wouldn't wear something that would weigh more than leather and carry the possibility of making the noise that metal armors often did. The smooth skin of her neck, the long pale caramel hair, the flowing curves of her face. His eyes them met her own, as they pierced into his with question. There was a strength behind them, if not arrogance, and Jaeden's head slowly turned, as if he were trying to right a portrait that was hung upside down. His body then began to curve at it's center, trying to turn with the rest of his body almost instinctively. Whatever good first impression Jaeden might have made, was quickly cast to the wind as his balance soon faltered and he came tumbling down to the ground as a subtle exhale was given when his body bit the surface of the earth and roots. He quickly climbed to his feet, hoisting a finger into the air as if pointing out a fact before claiming, "I meant to do that." Jaeden's gaze then shifted back to the visitor as his hands brushed off leaves, twigs and dirt that clung to his body after falling before finally falling to his waist. Slow deep breaths taken as he attempted to catch his breath as drops of sweat still dripped off the tip of his nose and chin. He noted where her hand rested under he cloak, caressing a weapon of some sort. "Depends on what you find peculiar," Jaeden then responded. "I find it easier to train here in the wild. Less distractions here than in the city, what with people gawking and demanding that you don't do that in their shop and all." Jaeden slowly stepped over to his pack, dragging the back of his hand along his brow before reaching inside and pulling out a small cloth from within. "Jaeden Kincade," Jaeden said in introductions as he began wiping the layer of sweat that had formed over his body. "And you are? Aside from not a hunter, and gorgeous in an alarming 'gonna-kick-your-ass' way."

[Marishka Timandre]

Jaeden's silly theatrics were met with another dent in Marishka's sleek eyebrows. His falling over was somewhat amusing, though it was not enough to illicit a laugh from the primed and composed Konti. She said nothing as the dirty, sweaty man approached with his good morning towel, letting every word be caught and sunk into her her conscious mind. Listening to how well-spoken and confident he is, Marishka immediately caught on to the flattering, subtly patronizing tone of voice and way of conversing which Jaeden has. The quirk on her left eyebrow quivered twice; an amorous playboy, no doubt, not really the best person for a wary woman to converse with, but at least he did not show any rashness in his intentions. Although she did not immediately lash out at him in reprehension --she has not been able to find the other 'signs' yet-- she was already getting an impression of what he often wants from women. The hidden hover of her hand over her hilt did not budge away, though it did not make any sudden moves to strike either. Violent irises eyed his massive, towering form from tip to toe and back to the head again. He was well built, sturdy and toned to perfection; even without listening to the hint his final words had given her, she would have known at a glance that this man was a fine hunter. Her lips swerved to one side. She did not find his pick-up amusing in the least, still he was gentlemanly enough to acknowledge her skills even without knowing anything about her. A fine judge of character, perhaps? She would know soon enough. "Marishka. Of Mura's Timandre clan." she replied, her tone somewhat cold and brash, an improvement over the one she had given him earlier. "I see that you're no... Brigand, if solitude for training is all you want. I can relate quite well to that." She tossed her flowing hair of snow aside with a flick of her hand, surveying around his campsite with a blank look. She honestly did not know enough about hunting to effectively judge how he was able to construct his camp; what did catch her attention was the quickness and lack of comfort which it paraded. It was the suit of a hardy and fortuitous man. "Pardon the tone. I was surprised to see another person around these deep parts." she said without emotion, not really meaning to be apologetic at all. It was meant more to soothe him, to make him a bit more complacent, just in case anything were to break out between or around them. Secret : Made some edits in Marishka's bio; she is no longer gray eyed and caramel haired, but violet eyed and snowy haired to keep the theme of the Timandres rolling. Pardon for the inconvenience.

[Jaeden Kincade]

Jaeden slowly shook his head, giving a slow chuckle. "No pardon over the tone needed," Jaeden said as he picked up his waterskin, tipping his head back for a quick drink before reaching for his shirt. "You'll find I tend to take many things in stride." Jaeden slowly slipped the tattered white shirt over his frame, tucking the tail and front into his pants as he looked over towards Marishka. Quirking a slow brow to match her own for a moment. He then grabbed his leather armor, slipping into it as well before slowly attaching the straps at his side. Before long, he was back at his pack, rooting through it before pulling out a leather bound pack of dried beef jerky, as he began taking a bite out of one, holding the rest out to Marishka in an offer. "And what about you," Jaeden the casually asked after swallowing a mouthful of jerky. "Your armor and cloak are to fine to be that of a simple brigand or scum slaver. Your neutral stance shows caution as well, which means you've trained for a fair amount of time. Finished a job escorting some silly thrill seeker wishing to see the wild? Or perhaps an adventurer just exploring?" He then moved over to the tree, picking his longsword up as he began strapping it to his belt at the left side of his waist. "And that hundred yard stare of yours, you always do that?" Jaeden asked curiously as hetook a lean against the tree, his right hand idly reaching up to scratch at the white streak of hair that lined the back of his head. "That coupled with the fact that your hand hasn't left the hilt of whatever fancy weapon your pawing at makes me think you expect a fight to break out with anyone you meet."

[Marishka Timandre]

"I'm the latter, simply enjoying my free time with nature." she replied quickly in a monotonous, calculated way, another tilt in the side of her mouth saying no quietly to the offering of jerky. She has never been much of a meat lover, very few Konti are. Her poise remained perfect and unmoving, just like the still wind around them. It was strange to her that there wasn't a breeze to be felt, only the warmth of the sunlight bursting through the trees was there for her alabaster skin to take in. She was slightly amused at his retort over her apprehension over banditry, for it seemed that he too despised the sort. Jaeden didn't look like some hypocrite ally of justice, like some of the fancier characters she has met over the years she has spent in Syliras. He didn't seem like a bad person, though he is a bit tacky and full of clever retorts. A clicking sound came out of her mouth when he made the comment over her ready hand. "Hmm. A warrior can never be too careful around those she doesn't know. Besides, you can't blame me. These woods can be full of... Men." She said the last bit with more than a hint of disdain, laced with a vocal tinge of her antipathy towards his side of the gender pole. Despite this, she finally lowered her hand, folding both arms across her chest. She finally showed something beyond her frown, a nice big smirk, which she gave him as she watched him eat his piece of meat. "Well, are you leaving this camp, or are you going to invite me to sit down, Sir Jaeden?"

[Jaeden Kincade]

"Sure, sit sit your pretty self anywhere you like," Jaeden said motioning over the camp before pointing out a single bush, "except there, the leaves are poisonous. They'll make you itch something fierce." Jaeden then chucked as he noted the disdain in her voice over the word men, especially since he was one of them. He slowly pulled out a glass from his pack, looking inside it for a moment to make sure it was still clean before he began filling it with water from his waterskin before offering it to her as she found her place. "So, is it the general actions of men in general that fills your tone with vinegar, or was there one in particular that caused them all to earn your ire?" Jaeden asked in curiosity before tipping his head back once again for a quick drink from the waterskin as the clear liquid streamed down into his open mouth. Setting the waterskin down, he then began pulling out various snares and sorting them as he began to organize himself for his hunt tomorrow. Giving the occasional glance over to Marishka as she shared her story if she chose to. He then began counting over the arrows in his quiver. Still only five fishing arrows left, he wondered if they would be worth risking on the river this time around. Jaeden then finally pulled out a wet stone from his pack, drawing his sword and knife as he sat himself along the ground opposite of Marishka. A couple drops of oil were applied to the stone as he began their maintenance, still listening for what she had to say with a curious attentiveness.

[Marishka Timandre]

Marishka saat down on an adjacent stone to Jaeden, then gave careful thought to the much younger man's request. It was often that people had found her ways intriguing, but few had dared try and pry open her repository of tales. She remembered the persistent and annoying Conor quite well in this regard, with his obvious intentions and pulling back from fighting her. Another smirk emerged from her lips at the memory. "Huh. I happen to think that all men are the same." she retorted slowly, casting a look to gauge Jaeden's reaction at her generalization. "All of you are selfish creatures, amorous beyond respite and persistent beyond annoyance. You try to take what you want, whenever you want, the way you want to take it." She watched him set his traps down for something. A future hunt, perhaps? Maybe it would be a good exercise to tag along, although she would never ask to before an invitation. With the floodgates of her disdain unhinged, the torrent of tales that had been securely buckled inside her began its outpouring. "The very moment I arrived on the mainland, four sailors from Zeltiva tried to..." she paused in anger, looking for a less revealing--and infuriating term for what she wanted to say-- "...tried to take my honor away. Suffice to say, they fooled around with the wrong woman. I was asking for aid and directions to Syliras, and instead of bringing me to the main road, they took me to a remote forest and tried to hold me down. I slew them, of course. Maybe just three, but one got away with a gaping slash to his shoulder. I don't know if he survived, but I hope he didn't." The brimming fury almost made her draw her sword out to hack at something, preferably a man. There was none around who had annoyed her enough, unfortunately, and Jaeden didn't seem to deserve it. For a few ticks she remained in a very bad mood, her straight gaze gravitating towards the ground in an aimless stare. Seven ticks later, the Konti let out a huff as she straightened back and tossed her hair back daintily, a flash of her supreme confidence evident in her now softening actions. It was as if that one particular part of the memory was the hurdle she needed to overcome before things went smoothly. "That was seven years ago. For seven years I have been alone, traveling the land as I pursue my ambitions. I have endured all sorts of hardships here; hunger, thirst, fatigue, stress, I have fought monsters, bandits, rogues and murderers, but that I shall never suffer. I would rather die." At the end she turned her head away towards the trees, her fingers entwining themselves together in thought. If she didn't have enough skill then, what would she be by now? She silently wished that none of her younger sisters had dared leave Mura since her, especially Kamalia and Aselia. God knows what could happen to them in such a reviling situation...

[Jaeden Kincade]

Jaeden slowly slid the wet stone across the the edge of his longsword before scrapping the surface of his thumb along it's it's to test the sharpness. He then gave a nod, repeating the process as he looked to Marishka every couple of ticks. "Yeah, a lot of men are right bastards, I'll give you that," Jaeden responded before wiping the blade clean for a moment and peering down the edge to check for nicks. "I certainly won't deny the desire and enjoyment I experience from the pleasure of a a woman's touch. To be honest, you stir a little something down in my nether regions, despite the cool demeanor you display, but I certainly wouldn't physically force a woman into such." Jaeden then began working over the edge of his longsword with the wet stone once again. Smirking slightly as he looked to Marishka. "All in all, I'm just a playful flirt," Jaeden then said, batting the pretty boy eyes in jest. "Still, your experience with men in general shouldn't put you off the idea entirely. There may still yet be one out there who you see in a different way other than disdain." Jaeden then wiped his blade clean, grasping the hilt as he did short slashes downward for a moment to check for any changes his sharpening may have had on the balance. He then sheathed the sword and set the wet stone along the ground before reaching for his knife. "I'll tell you what, you can test it out with me," Jaeden then suggested. "I'll be hunting and possibly doing some fishing as the day passes. You can tag along if you like, pick up some knowledge in the trade. Then later on I could possibly spar with you if you promise not to cut anything off?" Jaeden then slowly looked down to his crotch for a moment. "Come to think of it," Jaeden then added, "we'll get some thick tree limbs to substitute for our weapons. Wouldn't want any accidents happening. Or at least I wouldn't. In the end, if my casual antics haven't gotten under your skin to the point of agression, you'll know that you have at least built up a tolerance level."

[Marishka Timandre]

Marishka was quite shocked at how he says things, and his antics still didn't quite amuse her enough, although they somehow did anyway. Her tongue clicked again within her mouth as she shook her head in some manner of disgust. Even she didn't know if it was towards Jaeden, or towards her own teething narration. The memory may seem like a small thing--in fact, she has long played with the notion of forgiving mankind for being such a stupid and small-minded race. It was the prospect of her honor and future being compromised by irrational, irresponsible actions that had left her balking over it. She scoffed at his offer, another perk in her eyebrow mirroring what little amusement she gets from his manner of speech. She could have refused the guy outright, and she would have if he had not attached the duel bit at the end of his proposal. But truth be told, even without it, something had quite begun to intrigue her about him. He was so cool about the whole thing and was quite subtle in his ways, unlike most. And why the generous, if not peculiar offer? For only the second time Marishka gave a second thought as to the intentions of a man. Test it out? Tolerance level? Why would someone be so rash about showing kindness, and why would someone try to help someone out of an emotional dilemma? It was not the same thing as lending aid to someone who was getting robbed or about to be killed. It was a trivial matter which most people have to solve on their own. "Hmph. You're honest, I'll give you that." she said as she began to take off her cloak. The intricacy of her black silk outfit began to reveal itself more clearly, with the silver thread and armor pieces shimmering like disfigured stars against a dark night. She was obviously not poor by any means, just as he had surmised. She flung the gray cloak roughly to a nearby bush before settling back into a comfortable sitting position. "Very well, I will take you up on your offer. This may be an fair venture, and you have my undivided interest. However..." she cast a sharp glance at the flinting man, a sly smile--finally, at least, a smile--giving her lips, "...I will not tolerate mischief. Be warned accordingly." She got back to her feet to survey the camp, looking for an appropriate place to sleep. "I don't have a tent, so I guess I'll just curl up against a rock or tree or something. We Konti don't feel cold anyway, so it should be fine. In the morning we hunt."