[Kabrin Road] Why Are You So Grumpy Mister? [Eridanus]

[Kisetukai]

Timestamp: 50th Of Spring
Kabrin Road
Early, about 7th Bell to be exact


It was cold, cold being a harsh broad understatement to describe the weather of the day, as it was more of a cool crisp morning. Why one may even say it was refreshing, but having been on the road for several days, it was far from that. It was annoying, if anything, and completely put a damper on the young K's spirits. This Koenig however the group had been making good progress, moving at an exceptional pace though, this wasn't easily understood. The whole group walked in a perfect huddle, the horses all close by but never touching one another. A leader, the main  leading knight and the rear... K. The clots and trots began to bring life to the dead area, the occasional caravan coming and going. It was depressing. It was lifeless. It was...

Boring.

It was so boring that, well it was actually so boring that a joke about the situation wouldn't be deemed funny. It would be deemed serious, and boring. Boring and serious. This deadly atmosphere oozing with the stench of tension, was brought on by the people who inhabited it. You had your uptight, over-serious knights accompanying loser and chump squires. You know, those squires that have no business trying to be a knight and will never make it to anything important in life? Your occasional farm boy, your simpleton tom-boy of a girl trying to prove something, and of course your lame ass middle aged man trying to solve something. The last being his favorite, men like him trying to solve a mid life crisis or a simple dream of helping out and giving back to the city. K himself knew that the Syliran knights were to kind to reject fools, possibly something could be fixed by lord Dyres? No.. He had more important things to comprehend.

Here was the situation; K's group had been traveling for a couple days on the Kabrin road, moving along and patrolling. The group consisting of ten knights and nine squires, the squire less knight was the sergeant of the group. This wasn't K's usual patrol, so why was he here? Because it was the final part of Ser Corben's punishment, to teach him that he couldn't be always slacking off and sleeping around. So much for brotherly love huh? But wait it got better. K also had to leave behind his scythes, yes plural, as in his judgement scythe and the newly made one. The scythe he had purchased from that blacksmith named Hadyn, the one he himself had ordered personally, the one he waited days for. Hadyn wasn't really a special girl, she was just the mother of his beautiful scythe and a woman who had slyly got him out of patrol. 

Not only had she got him out of patrol but she gave birth to the most beautiful scythe that ever existed, she literally had his heart in the palm of her hand with that scythe, for she could have even over charged it. He considered that scythe his new baby, well technically there baby, but with him Brit selfish... It was his baby. Hadyn herself he didn't care for, to him she was just another face. Not even a special face, just another pair of curves to flirt with... But when it came to smithing. She was a young goddess learning her powers. K thought most women needed to be in a kitchen or laundry room, but ones like Hadyn... Deserved to stay where she pleased. The smithy. 

Now if this wasn't bad enough already, the tragic several-days-departion from his beloved weapons, it got worse. Ser Corben had advised, demanded, and forced him to by a sword. An unfair maiden petching sword! A cold iron long swordto be exact, not even one of those cool greatswords he saw knights using. Why couldn't he get a cool sword? Why did it have to be this weird, sturdy yet flimsy feeling sword? Could this thing even cause harm to someone? Why him? Why was life so difficult. Couldn't one thing go his way?! Oh wait... Everything always did. 

The group had traveled a good distance this morning, talking amongst themselves, until they finally noticed the boy's absence from conversation. "Aye boy what be your conflict?" Said a knightly voice, forcing K's head to pop up, looking around for the voice. Unable to, he chose to speak, whether they were done or not. "Conflict?.." He muttered. Oh he meant problem! "No Ser, my I haveth no problem, I just tend to squander in my own thoughts." He said, chuckling as he mocked the man's accent. "If doth deem it acceptable, please forgive me and choose for thy to continue verbal conquest." He finished mockingly with a slight head bow. One knight leaned and whispered to the culprit knight, probably giving him the, "That's Kisetukai, don't worry about him", speech.

"Kisetukai! That's no way to talk to a kni-" Said a squire before he was interjected by K. "No don't you Kisetukai me boy, you don't get that privilege." K blurted out as he spoke loudly. "We are knights and what are we doing? Walking on a boring road, entertaining ourselves with mere chatter? Thank god we are not under attack... By the looks of these squires we would have a battle." K scoffed, closing his eyes a bit. "Honestly I'm not the oldest here but I know of a class c minus grade of squires like these, I'm definitely the alpha." "And...."

He found himself coming to a close, as he sighed and lowered his heart rate. "You know what, I came here as punishment, and that's what this is. That's exactly what this is. Punishment. I understand, I will shut up and be quiet. I will wait, finish our little patrol and go home in a few days." He finished grumpily, looking straight forward. When he said that he would shut up, he was sure that someone had said thank you, but that was not important. Not at the moment at least. What was important was keeping to himself, hoping to speed up time somehow, he really didn't notice it but... He really missed Akilia. He missed the hell out of her. Like he just wanted to grab her as soon as he saw her and...

He missed her.

Lost in his own thought, he hadn't noticed but after a few awkward seconds, the group had continued to talk amongst themselves. K instantly became annoyed, the thought of nobody replying to his outburst made him want to do it again. Opening his mouth he was just about to when he noticed something. A small shop? Outpost? What was it? Whatever it was it instantly caught his attention. Tapping his horse, named speed, with his right foot sending it towards the unfinished structure. But nonetheless interesting. More interesting than his group.

"Kisetukai you have already caused enough trouble just-" Another squire spoke but was quickly interrupted by a now dominant K. "Shut up... Stop saying my name." K said with a sigh as he hopped off his horse. "Ser, I will catch up. Please allow me this... So that I may survive one more day and not die of sheer boredom." The knight in charge chuckled a bit at his sarcasm, continuing on his horse and speaking aloud. "Whatever Kisetukai. I expect to see you soon." The knight said hoping but knowing K wouldn't return so soon or hastily. "Of course Ser... You know me." K said with a smile, obviously containing a double meaning and an altering motive. He began to stretch, doing arm windmills until the group faded out of sight down the road. 

Walking up he began to analyze the situation, taking in details and looking around. It was a structure, being worked on by several men it sure was active. Seeing them all pound hammers, some on break, laughing and talking. "Hey... What is this?" K said aloud, trying to break a bit of silence and get some answers. "...." He got not reply, apparently the men only cares about work and themselves.... Fair enough. "Asses...." K grumbled as he walked over to an information board. It was a small little stand of info, consisting of little notes that one would need to decipher or explain. Little tidbits here and there like; "15 snow hares, alive, 12gm for every five extra up to 40." 

This caused K to nod his head, in confirmation, as if he understood. "Ah it's like stuff that they need... But why have it out here for everyone to see? Unless... Are they paying people to get stuff for them? Or are they-" His words were cut short as he read another. "Short man, 5'3, skilled with daggers and is silver tongued. Discreet info." K yanked his head back, as if apalled. "What?... Is this guy lost? What... What can this be? Looking at the men working, he was unsure if he would get any answers, so he decided to take matters into his own hands.

The last one caused K to think. What could that possibly mean? Was that perhaps the starting of a bounty? Nah... It couldn't have been. But that really didn't change the eerie atmosphere of the area. Walking up to the counter with his horse's reign still in his left hand, his outfit was pretty venturous. Black cargo shorts with a chain over the left pocket, a black tee shirt, black gloves, black shoes, black inverted cloak. Yes, he was wearing Kise's outfit, because Kise was the one dressing the body when they departed. And it was his snug black tee, the one that hugged his body, the v-neck one. Knocking on the counter of the store, he couldn't really peer in, he only saw darkness. The slender cold iron long sword hanging on his back, it felt awkward yet knight-ish. 

Tap Tap Tap

He knocked a bit, letting his heavy right fist slam the counter. "Yo! Shop keep... I need some answers. Anybody home?" He rushed. If anyone was inside of this small business, they might have gotten annoyed. A young dark skinned boy, hair cut low, freshly edged. Facial hair trimmed to be transparent. He surely looked young and youthful. But that was unimportant, what was important... Was.

What could he have possibly stumbled onto? What was this establishment?

[Eridanus]

It was an intriguing sight, to be sure. Right in the wilderness that was called the Wildlands that spanned the whole of the Sylira region, with cities dotting throughout amidst it, was a tiny little settlement a little off the Kabrin Road. Right at the middle of the Road between the civilizations of Zeltiva and Syliras was a small establishment a small distance away, connected to the main road by a well-walked trail that led from this mid-point. Men were working on various buildings and structures, with debris and crumbling stones still around, and they generally paid no attention to anyone. If approached, they would simply just point to the one remaining and only standing structure in the midst of this expansive - but ruined - complex and continue their work.

This structure was interesting in its construction. It bore similar features in terms of structural age and design to many of the destroyed and dilapidated ruins around the complex, but there were more modern additions throughout like patchwork, as if to fill in the seemingly random holes throughout. This was the only surviving building in the whole complex from the Djed Storm of 512 AV, and after buying this tract of land and the associated debris on it from the previous owner, Eridanus had set his first priority on fixing up the only surviving structure to be vaguely functional, aesthetics be damned. The result was an architectural abomination, yet it served his needs as quarters for his laborers to rest in at night, an informal inn of sorts and of course, a place for him to work and peddle his wares.

Being out in the Wildlands does have its disadvantages, such as the lack of immediacy to supplies unlike living in the city. While he aimed to turn his establishment into a self-sufficient complex in the future, he had to remedy the immediate short-term needs. Gaining inspiration from the Starcleaver's Bounty in Syliras and The Establishment from Sunberth, he had erected a massive board near the entrance of his establishment listing a bunch of things that he needed so that traveling adventurers and merchants would know to conduct trades with him.

At this moment though, business was slow at this time of the day since most travelers upon the road would be taking a mid-day break for lunch, and thus he was still within the shop tending to potential visitors but also working on an experiment that may be his next inventory addition.

If it succeeded.

Before him on the floor was a reasonably medium-sized log that he had hauled with no small effort into the shop from a nearby dead fall. Normally it would have been easier to do so, but because of the limp and weakness in his right side, and the need to act normally, and the pride to not use flux as a crutch, it took him more effort than necessary to do so. But still, once he brought it into the privacy of his shop, out of the view of the Zeltivan laborers - bless them for their help - then did he allow himself to heave and pant, his right arm twitching as he massaged it unconsciously. It had never really healed from the events from Alvadas, and every time he exerted force on it it would throb, giving him a mild, unwanted reminiscence on what it felt like to have half his body chomped on by a monstrous manifestation of a revenge-seeking, vicious illusion wielding divine power.

After he had hauled it in he had begun work on it in earnest, first using a crayon to lightly draw symbols and shapes upon it. The drawings imitated the shape of a rope being tied round-and-round the trunk, first starting off as mere lines. When enough circles were made to encircle the log that it began to look like it originally had colorful stripes (thanks to the crayon), more symbols and little glyphs were added along side the lines. Painstakingly, the hours passed by as each miniscule symbol was carefully painted alongside the circling lines. It was a form of an essay in the ancient language, expressed in a physical form only understandable to the individual mage.

------------------------------------------------

"Glyphing is not as simple as you think, student Eridanus, that it involves just empowering magic. The true beauty in glyphing lies in its complexity, in its ability to not only rewrite the rules of magic, that of djed, but also in its flexibility and the potential to do so in unlimited ways, only bound by your own creativity, imagination and understanding of glyphing!"

...

"Any beginner can make a glyph to ease projection manifestations. But it takes someone with experience to store magical effects for future use."

...

"Any ho-fiddley-dum can make a bunch of glyphs for effects, m'boy, but it takes something special to combine all of them effects to create new effects. Certainly it is more than the sum of its parts, d'ya agree?"

...

"The true beauty in glyph lies not in its inherent ability to change the rules. Neither does it lie in its infinite flexibility and potential. It lies in all of the above combined together, and elegant and concisely placed. That, young fellow, is poetry."

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At the stump of one end of the log what seemed to be a simple circle at first glance was in actuality a circle formed by intermingling seemingly meaningless letters together to form hybrid runes.

[Egajtulia mareinti kieutu blotiakan gorehineut scaramouchfandango gusjeier...]

However, to the creator's eyes, it meant something else entirely. It actually resembled proper script and proper understanding. To another wizard of an equal or higher profiency in Glyphing, it would make total sense to him, yet it would manifest in a different manner in that wizard's perception. This seemingly transient property of a glyph's manifestation remained one of the many mysteries of arcana.

This circle was the beginning paragraph, the ode to a long verse that Eridanus seek to achieve with this experiment.

[Within this circle, upon the very sigil formed to contain the expression of life within its inner bosom, within the space created by these very words, would begin a flame that is at the bud of its blossom. Contain it entirely until it is ready to begin its journey, and thus-]

From there the glyphs broke off from the circle into the numerous lines that he drew that went around the log, and it was there that the symbols continued along the lines, serving as further runes that augment the utility of the snaking path sigils.

[-and thus will the process begins to strengthen, to fortify, to subject the subject within to trials of burning trials, and for the burning desire within to emerge with burning desire, even stronger than before. With each round-]

More sigils were painted in an intricate combination around the log. It was tiring, to do so, having to squint due to his not-so-excellent eyesight as a result of getting his eyes nearly burned out when he viewed upon the omnipotent aura of a certain "golden boy" in Alvadas. Yet, slowly but surely the overall shape began to form, and the simplicity of the thick lines juxtaposed against the multitude of mystical script scattered throughout made for a work of art in itself.

[-with each round, accelerate your strength. Refortify, rearm, rebuild, but not release. Keeping it all within, gaining with each round. And as the circle goes, the momentum goes. Everything increases, but everything is held. The fire streaks, and the ember burns. There will be no turning back, there will be no retreat.]

And the glyphs further gave cause for speed, enhancing, boosting and augmenting along the path of the djed. In a way, Eridanus had gained his inspiration from Rayage's Alchemy, using a similar concept of the djed circle. Now, instead of alchemy, he was attempting to utilize one of the concepts of alchemy - that of djed acceleration to try to see if he could increase the power output of a spell with the glyphs. Essentially, small spark in, white-hot fireball out.

The incessant line of script exhorting the djed acceleration continued in parallel with the circular lines until it ended on the other side of the log, where another circle like the first lies, encircling the loose end of the 'rope-paint' that covered the majority of the log's width.

When he was done, he went to the 'starting side' of the log, extending his palms as he gathered the res from within his body. A small, warm glow began to emit and increase in intensity as the pure white substance - pale as the beam of the moon - balled into a conflux of whirling mass before his palms. Holding his breath, he exhaled in a sudden, forceful manner as he physically pushed his palms out to help visualize what was happening in his mind - a sudden mental slam forward of the res into the starting focus sigil, with a latent command to ignite just before it entered the log.

Quickly, the researcher scurried over to the other side of the log, placing both arms before the 'business-end' of the log. One was to make creation, one was to make disappearances. Emptying his mind as quickly as he could - a difficult task, mind you, given that the log was beginning to glow in increasing red-hot intensities as the spell began accelerating in the path sigils along the circumference of the log, getting closer to his side - the vantha suppressed his excitement as best as he could, mentally dispelling the warmth of emotions that was required to transmute the spell earlier and focusing on an unbearable cold. It was not just freezing, snowflakes cold, but it was the cold of misery and depression. The cold of solitude.

The air crackled as what seemed to be the very whims of reality distort before him, and a small but howling black orb materialized that distorted the very air around it, hungry for matter to feed its eternal, endless depths.

Just in time for a large maelstrom of fire to emerge from the end of the log - far larger in size and temperature than what was first fed in the start. That meant that it was a major success, that his creativity and proficiency in glyphing was sufficient enough to adjust the scale of his relatively poor reimancy on such a level.

But it also meant that his poor little void was ill-equipped to handle such a strength of power, and it was complete engulfed. Some of the flames were sucked into the void, the pitiful globe devouring as much as it could before collapsing upon itself due to there sheer intensity of the flames. That also meant that the Eridanus got the remainder of the spell.

...

A few moments later, the bell rang, and a courier no more than the age of thirteen entered to pass a letter to the owner of the establishment. There was no doubt that he was surprised to find a man with charcoal and soot upon his face, tinged hair and more soot and carbon on the front of his shirt. Said owner of the establishment also happened to be in a grumpy mood, and he took the letter with only a brief mumble of thanks.

...

Some washing up and a fresh change of clothes later, Eridanus was in a much better mood, though his face still felt raw and sensitive to touch. His eyes scanned the letter he received, namely about intelligence regarding certain demands for certain trinkets in the martial city of Syliras, and he nodded to himself, mentally making plans.

That was until the door rang, and he stumbled to the door, limping as he did so for he did not bother to disguise his physical weakness when he was alone. Taking a moment to straighten himself and to correct his posture before the door, the vantha swept the still-smoking hair out of his eyes, took several deep breaths to steady his flushed visage, then opened the door.

The young squire would find a free-spirited looking man with windswept streaks with the color of the aurora upon his dark ebony hair (with the occasional smoke-tinged strand due to the previous accident) opening the door, looking not much older than the boy of seventeen. He was dressed in a nondescript set of linen, the colors of which seemed random and bland as if he did not bother to match and dress. Combined with the general 'air' or attitude around him it painted him as a 'slacker' type of person. A playful gaze rested on the full-black ensemble, the shocking blue eyes melding into green right before the squire's very eyes as the shopkeeper considered his visitor for a moment, before he left the door open, gesturing for the visitor to follow him inside.

When inside, Kise would notice some scorch marks around where a log still lay smoking, with red embers still occasionally sparking out of its width like a malfunctioning machine. Some of the glyphs still remained in the forms of cracks upon the wood, though the majority of them had been consumed in the experiment or the flames.

Eridanus nonchalantly waved some of the smoke that drifted from the log over to where they were standing, muttering, "Don't mind... uh, that. Right, so I am Syreus Ehm Sol, owner of this humble establishment. How may I address you, young sir, and what can I help you with?"

[Kisetukai]

Service here wasn't very... Responsive. K had been here for ten seconds and the door hadn't flew open, it was way too long for the impatient, excited, and overly curious boy. He began pacing himself in place barely, rocking only about a centimeter forward and then back, as if his excitement couldn't even let him be antsy right. He looked down at his gloved right hand. His knuckles exposed to the cool air, he smiled as it seemed to be an alright and stable temperature. He flashed a look at the men working at pounding at the structure it seemed that they were determined to make haste and finish, although they were far from it, it still was nice to see hard work. Being from Syliras, he was used to seeing hard work, but besides training he hadn't really done it himself. He left that to the commoners, but nonetheless it was it was still something that always earned his respect, so he wouldn't disturbed the men. As soon as he decided this, the door swung open, greeting him with a friendly face.

The man didn't really appear old, nor young, but then again K was a fail at identifying ages. Moving on, after a quick bit of further observation, this man was actually a bit cool looking. Well the hair to say the least, reminded him of Ser Corben, except his hair seemed... Recently singed. As if he had just had an explosion accident and then came to the door with a smile, this made K think if he wanted to go inside. After thinking for half a tick, he decided that analysis was for the weak and timid, as the man gestured for him to come in. Returning the merry face, he followed the man, slowly walking in. This took his mind off of the cold long sword hanging on his back in his black harness, for now he began to assess a bit and wonder what type of store is this actually was. Then something caught his attention, a log, smoke flying and rising as if he had just set it aflame. Embers spewing as if it was alive and denying something, also strange markings, like the one Bolivar would put on his glyphs. Except these were totally different, complex and new shapes arranged similar but not as simple. It was a total foreign design and K couldn't help but stare, seeing as the log smoked and obviously something had happened. This is why he seemed all... Burnt.

K let out a small cough, clearing his throat from wonders and ponders, until the man's voice brought him back to reality. He turned to see him fanning the smoke, as if it was just your ordinary sight, and addressing him calmly. "Don't mind... uh, that. Right, so I am Syreus Ehm Sol, owner of this humble establishment. How may I address you, young sir, and what can I help you with?"

"Syr...Syreus hm? I see, I am Kisetukai Yamehaka, squire of Ser Corben, future knight." K announced with some pride, giving the man a slight full body bow, but still keeping respect. "If I may... I have a few questions. Hopefully you have time to answer them?" K looked at the man with a warm smile, hoping to make this a pleasant exchange of information. "First off, you can call me Kise. I find it a bit easier that way, and I don't want you to be so formal, tends to make things easier." "Now... If I may ask.. What kind of establishment is this exactly?" K said still standing, his arms now folded, as he stood proudly. "I noticed the information board outside and I grew curious, I'm guessing it is things you need? Care to elaborate? And also..." He said with a chuckle, gesturing his right hand to the log. "What is that exactly? Magic?" He was smiling the whole time, for the magic part was a joke. Perhaps the man was just having it up for display, he didn't look like the magic type but then again... What did the magic type look like?

He reached his right hand back to adjust his harness as he listen to the man speak, it felt uncomfortable, new weight of a new weapon. It was no scythe, a scythe would've been lighter and a different weight placement upon his body. He would have to wear it no doubt, but there was no mentioning of him having to use it. Why Ser Corben wouldn't let him use his scythe was another matter, but for now he wouldn't even think twice about using the weapon on his back. He lowered his hands, back to folded position and listened to the man speak.

[Eridanus]

As Eridanus invited the potential customer in, he assessed the man critically as would a certain bald man would - and would have expected him to - after mysteriously teaching him certain approaches.

This person seemed young, clothed entirely in black. He walked with a certain stride reminiscent of pride and discipline, yet his influence did not expound authority as a leader would. He wore his longsword behind his back, yet fidgeted while wearing. His attitude pointed to him belonging to an established, disciplined order, yet his behavior eliminated any possibilities of him being a veteran. The lack of authoritative confidence and the discomfort with what should be a common weapon of the knighthood therefore pointed to him being an apprentice of a knight instead.

As Kisetukai introduced himself and his status, Eridanus allowed himself a small grin. What could be taken as friendliness by the squire was actually a greatly suppressed beam of triumph at the success of his own deductions. As he listened to the squire's curious questions, he let his mind wander around the man, his superior observation taking in every small detail. Disregarding some, absorbing some, all according to what that mysterious man had taught him.

His eyes wandered to the first object that intrigued him: that of the longsword. Being a longsword user himself, the mage was actually rather familiar with that weapon, having possessed both a steel and cold iron longsword. Though it was sheathed within the weapon harness, he then noticed a series of details that logically ended up at the same conclusion: it was a brand new cold iron longsword.

How did he came to such a conclusion? Several details served as clues that were then supported by further clues. Firstly, the make of the weapon itself was quite obviously a longsword. The squire was uncomfortable with the weapon with his often fidgets and with the lopsided way that he walked, indicating inexperience in not only the handling and use of the weapon, but also in the weight distribution of the weapon itself which pointed to him having never actually properly being equipped with a longsword. That meant that he was new with the longsword. Further details that confirmed this observation was the unoptimal method to which the squire had affixed the weapon to his harness. He had done so in a different manner that suggested familiarity with a weapon but of a different weight distribution. This clue along with his certain way of walking hinted that he was instead familiar with a different weapon that weighed differently, as someone who had no experience with weapons at all would have a sluggish stride with such a weapon on their back. Instead, this squire had a sort of staccato-like rhythm to his steps that hinted at experience with handling a different weapon, but having this familiar rhythm interrupted by the unfamiliarity with this new weapon.

In any case, further observation drew the lack of dents nor fine scratches upon the sheath. Moreover, the steel around the hilt gleamed flawlessly. A sword that had been used often would have fine scratches and dents - even if maintained properly - due to the frequency of drawing and sheathing the blade, as evidenced by the state of his own over two-centuries-old blades. Combined with the squire's unfamiliarity with the weapon and these additional observations, it was then likely that it was not only new to the squire, but also new in making.

In order to deduce the material of the weapon which remained hidden he had dipped briefly into magics. The usual conflicting smell of brownies assaulted the vantha's nose as a result of his soul damage from daring to view upon the aura of a superior being, and Kise would notice this from the subtle wrinkling of his nose. Using Auristics he delved through the sheath as if he had X-ray vision, then delving deeper into both the internal make and the aura of the weapon. His experience with the differences of both steel and cold iron due to his long term possession of both led to the conclusion that the blade was cold-iron. Further magical analysis into the weapon's residual activity - an advanced domain of aura-reading available only to a select few wizards - confirmed his above conclusions.

All of these logical processes ran systematically in the scholar's mind, though he was not as practised as his mysterious mentor to process and deduce these facts so quickly. This led to him staring blankly into Kise for a few more seconds than usual, his racially characteristic eyes blending and shifting into several dizzying colors as he did so.

"Yes, uh. Right. To answer your questions, yes and yes," He replied easily.

Elaborations, he wants elaborations, the vantha reminded himself. Oh right, I always get overly distracted from the present when I focus too much on this "logical deduction process".

He thought for a moment, his mind racing at possibilities. He could always ask for information, of course, but ever since being taught this interesting ability he had been constantly practising it throughout the season even if he could have obtained the knowledge in a heartbeat. It was more for experience so that he could arrive at a deduction as fast as the man who had taught it to him, and with the answers being a test to his deductive intuition.

What were his intentions in coming into his shop? He had asked about the magic, so clearly he was not a customer that had the intention to obtain arcane supplies from his shop. That meant curiosity that was fueled by his information board, as mentioned in the boy's first question. If said board was a trigger then, that eliminated him from being his target audience of magical supplies and instead pointed to interest with the board, or he would not have taken the effort to walk in. His need for elaborations and the effort to walk in suggested the possibility of his interest in doing the quests, likely for rewards.

Eridanus thought further, his mind going back to the note that he had read moments before the squire had knocked on the door. Yes, he suppose he could make use of the squire.

His internal deductions making him lose track of the present, the mage had already forgotten that he had not obtained an answer from Kise, instead already assuming that his conclusions were correct and was, in fact, the answer.

"Yes, yes, would you kindly - if you wish to - obtain the necessary items for me?" He mumbled softly as he grabbed a nearby parchment to begin scribbling a series of items as his mind formulated a plan that tied all of this together.

Bounty for a series of common Wildland animals, possibly including but not limited to:
1) Rabbit/Squirrel
2) Deer
3) Wolf
4) Bear
5) Fox
6) Moose
7 Wild Boar

"I am not familiar with the variety of creatures in the wilds, mind you," Eridanus added, "but I basically want common game and predators. Oh, and when you do slay them, bring to me their corpses and a fresh vial of blood obtained at the moment of their deaths. Please label them properly."

His mind wandered a little as the 'plan' was processed mentally, and he added, "Could you also do said slaying with that sword of yours? Since you're not too attached to it I would also like to purchase it along with my mentioned items when you're done."

"And if you do find any interesting or strange objects in your travels, I would very much like to examine them as well."

He finished with a quiet grin, without explanation for the above. No doubt Kise, or any other ordinary person, would find his eccentricity and random pauses (coupled with blank, slack-jawed stares), along with his seemingly supernatural ability to know things, to be confusing, especially without an explanation of his thought processes that would make it all seem so obvious when explained. Of course, it was a matter of starting from point A, moving to point B, then to C, and possibly arriving at D. When confronted with just D a person would understandably be confused, but obviously when presented with the necessary in-between steps, the mystery would be cleared quickly. That was the effect of this newly acquired skillset.

[Kisetukai]

An observer observing an interrogator was a very strange sight to behold, it seemed that Syreus got his information from rude and awkward stares, while K on the other hand seemed to gather information from sly questions and small talk. Syreus was a rather odd old man, constantly making strange faces as if he was going through bowel movement and loosing his train of thought, and it indeed showed up. He was a man of few words, unless necessary, it seemed he only talked what was needed to be said. As he shuffled here and there, his brow furrowing crazily and his voice sounding as if he was pondering life itself. K was very interested when he grabbed a piece of paper and began to scribble words, it was very... Encouraging that he was going to get more info, with less work, the more the merrier right?

Well he did get the information, although it definitely wasn't what he expected or wanted, and it was odd at that. K's whole expression died sort of when he read it, hearing Syreus voice again once more as he began to explain, apparently he needed to send a poor soul on a hunt. Except it wasn't some awesome criminal hunting, or even pathetic thug hunting... It was literally game hunting. Bears, foxes, moose, and all the other stuff that your average burly man kills and eats. K looked up at him with a bizarre and confused face, absorbing the essence of his words as he spoke, he didn't understand the man yet he did. It was even more out of whack when he told K to do the killing with his new crappy ass longsword, why the long sword? It was all just too much, and then the worst part of all... He told K to draw the blood. To contain and mark the containers somehow. Was he a god? How could one mortal do all this? It was insane, and K was definitely gonna get to the bottom of it.

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!" K said slowing down after every word as he stepped forward once, his right hand raised and showing his gloved palm to the man, looking at him with his left brow arched a bit. "I understand that you want your little jobs done gramps... I really do. But first I'm gonna need a little bit more information." Swiping his hand up, and clenching the piece of paper tightly, K glanced at the list and began to address the situation. "So you want me... A young boy, to go kill a bear. I see... Ok that's understandable." He ended nonchalantly, tucking the piece of paper in his back right pocket.

 "Now as for the sword, I guess that's understandable, anything is possible for a man such as myself. Here is where there is a bit of concern for me... First of all. I am no hunter or wild man, I don't know how to track or even begin hunting. So what I will do for you is chase, and chase till I kill. But when I do kill... Then what? You want me to retrieve the carcass? And the blood... You want me to store and label the blood?! Why do you want blood, that is probably my main concern..." After shivering violently a bit, with a slight cringe he decided to move on, his mouth opening again for a barrage of words.

"Also, on the topic of this..." Like a novice he quickly yanked out his sword, no finesse as the crisp sound of the blade was drew, he held it in his right hand like it was a toy. Yes it was a bit weighty, but K was also strong and didn't know his own strength... At times. "I would be so happy to take it off of my hands... But as a knight I can't just go about handing out weapons to old people... No matter how bad they wanna play with them. Sorry gramps. Tell ya what, possibly you could buy it... But you need to tell me what you would do with it. What you would do with the blood, the dead animals, and this sword that I-" 

He stopped mid sentence as the sword flew out of his hands like a tomahawk, spinning like a death windmill, it flew right past the old man. K stared at him with a dull look, tuning out the noise if he broke or damaged anything, and didn't talk till he heard it hit the ground. "So uh... Yeah... Sorry bout that. Never said that I was an expert." He said with a friendly chuckle, wiping his gloved hands together, the black leather squeaking a bit. "Anyways... What type of items would I find in the woods anyway? Your talking like treasure and loot?" He added jokingly, smiling now as he scratched behind his ear. I wonder what's Akilia up to right now...

This was definitely a man with sometime to hide... And K was sure to find out a bit.