PM to join [The Bronze Wood] A Wood in Mourning

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats 62nd of Summer 513 AV Ninus dismounted Jack, exhausted and tired. He had buried his family up on a hill overlooking the wood, a beautiful clearing that was now home to two stone cairns. One for brother, and a large one for his parents. As they had requested, he had buried the two together, arranged gently with large branches of yew and oak to keep away any animals. Many wolves knew about the poisons of the wood, and avoided gnawing on them. The stones would discourage any interfering. He was tired, and had performed a small ceremony for them, and the bandits who were not present. Ninus had returned to the camp, feeling as if he had cried out all of the water in his body. He patted Jack and took the saddlebags off of the horse, stripping him of his tack and allowing him to forage of his own volition. Ninus looked at the twelve or so tents. The smoking campfire. The drag marks where the knights had pulled away the bodies to burn. The poisoner was filled with hatred. He had grown up in these woods. The tree where he had been pulled from was marked with heights and ages as he'd grown. All that had been left of who he was as a child were those tents. Ninus pulled out some salted meat from the two barrels that remained (one rain barrel for water, and one of salted pork), and began roasting it. He would pack up the remaining meat for snares and his own food, but he planned on spending a day in his childhood home, mourning properly. Packing away Freidys' books and rolling up his furs. Packing his father's handaxes and seeing how to transport the large zweihander Brother had wielded. The poisoner checked up on Cricet. She was bedridden for at least another day, cuddled up in Freidys' furs in the large tent for the time being. He sat down heavily next to the injured rat, rubbing her ears. "Thy family is murdered, cut down by a cruel and injust hand. One life repaid with a thousand. I shall dig up the long dead ass, and put his body in the latrine." Ninus grumbled. "Their dishonor deserves nothing less."

[Wade]

Wade winced as he stumbled on a mischievous root. Not for the assault on his toe, but rather for the bruises crying out around his entire body. He was beaten and battered and it had taken some great willpower to force himself out of bed. He had a bandage that wrapped about his head and covered his right eye; it had taken quite a beating in the fight and it was just too painful to try to see out of, even now.

Wade had left his bow at home for this venture, instead taking only his battleaxe for safety. He was not venturing out into the woods in his condition just to go on a hunt. No, what pulled him out of bed and forced him to risk being mauled by some vicious animal or horrible monster was a powerful feeling of guilt.

He could remember quite clearly the man who had leapt to his aid when the Alpha-Yukman had nearly torn him in two. He could also remember the sinking feeling that had stricken him when the healer had told him that the knights had executed every single one of the bandits he had fought alongside in the wood. His heart ached at the loss of the one that went by the title Brother.

He wondered if there was something he could have done to save him.

Brother had saved his life and Wade had just let him and everyone he loved die.

Wade fell to his knees in the mud as he reached the sight of the battle, overcome with his grief and guilt. He could see the many prints that told the story of the battle. Many long scrapes and shapes of bodies where the battle had been fought. Men and Yukmen had fallen together, fighting spirits stilled only by death. Also present were the hoof-prints of the mounts of the Syliran Knights. They had swept onto the battlefield, saving the day for Wade and perhaps Syliras, but damning the valiant bandit troupe to execution.

Wade grabbed at the sides of his head as the blood pounding in his ears threatened to burst forth. He bowed towards the ground, lower and lower until his nose touched the mud. Breathing was suddenly painful and forced. His whole body shook as he forced himself not to break into tears.

He was truly conflicted. He knew that the bandits had done many horrible things, had committed many horrible crimes. He knew that the life that they lived was illegal and that the right and lawful thing was to execute them, as the knights had done. They were bad people that were willing to take and kill rather than live a lawful life that aided society.

But Brother had saved his life...

[Radiant]

OOCI decided to send Ser Wade instead of a Balicani

Ser Wade had been patrolling with his usual companions, two younger knights, at his side. He was one of the search parties scouring for more Yukmen stragglers and corpses, his armor, shield, and longsword ready to take on any threat, along with his currently dormant gnosis. The three horse-riding knights ventured the Woods until they came upon an interesting sight.

"Ser Wade... is that?" One of the knights pointed to the two familiar figures.

"Hmmm... yes, the young warrior with the same name as I am and our poisoner who still live solely because of Ama's vouching..." Wade examined them and rubbed his stubble. Ser Wade turned his horse to approach them and the two knights loyally followed the senior knight.

"Wade..." Ser Wade approached climbed down from his horse and helped the young man to his feet "Hmmm... What is the matter, boy? Are you alright?" After what Ama told him of the boy's valiant and courageous deeds, Ser Wade found himself feeling proud, this boy brought honor to the "Wade" name, whether willingly or not.

The younger knights though, aimed their crossbows at Ninus and ready to fire should he so much make a single funny move "Ser, we're ready to fire..."

"Good, I'm tired of hearing him disdaining our Order, you have my permission to fire should he opened his mouth and speak even a single word, insane man doesn't know his place... he lived in our city yet he abhorred us, that man doesn't deserve our protection nor have the right to remain in our presence..." For a second, a tinge of anger coated the senior knight's voice, where Natasha had been more than willing to cut Ninus up to pieces, Ser Wade was more patient... but even patience has its limits.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus had a good warning the knights were coming. They weren't exactly quiet through the woods, nor stealthy, and Jack pulled his head up quickly from a patch of coltsfoot he'd been browsing. He had his ears up and forward, watching the knights cautiously. He'd quite had enough of adventure for one week, and though he was loathe to run off into the woods alone he would if the knights made sudden movements. The poisoner gave them a baleful glance. "Disrespectful asses trodding on the graves of the dead. Dumb and deaf donkeys crashing through the brush expecting bear and wolf to bend knee." he mumbled, half an eye on his cooking fire and the other on the readied crossbows. Had they come to shoot an unarmed man, still within the limits of his exile, out in the woods? Ninus didn't doubt it. If they were willing to execute over thirty men without giving them a chance to say anything, nor defend their actions, nor given a fair trial....they would shoot an unarmed man in the back. Their arrogance truly knew no bounds. Ninus went to Jack and patted his neck, pulling him gently by the mane toward better grazing over near the stream. He knew the horse was nervous, and the last thing he needed was to lose Jack. He couldn't flee so readily; not with his parents' things here, Cricet still injured, and the knights so willing to come and plunder. "A graveyard you've come to, to torture the souls not yet rested hours in their graves. Hast thou such low honor, to come and kick a wounded man in the side? To laugh while he weeps over those who showed nothing but kindness to him? I doubt not that thy hand would sprout a quarrel in my back, unarmed and unwilling to fight." Ninus snarled at the ground, low under his breath. Truly, the last thing Ninus wanted was more death. But he would not quail under the knights simply because they threatened him. He was more of a man than that. He tied Jack's rope halter to a tree branch and headed back to the heart of the camp properly. He should have known they would come to torture him. He broke down the healer's tent first. He had no need for so many tents, but they would fetch a small price. He rolled it up carefully and broke the sticks that kept it up, throwing them into the cooking fire. There were four tents in all. Three smaller tents, and his mother's larger one. Many of the bandits had optioned to sleep in bedrolls on the ground or up in the trees. Ninus had practiced it himself, and would do so again when night fell. He set aside the healer's tent and looked at the supplies the man had left. Not much. A small roll of linen bandages, a small packet of wild dry mint to help stomachaches, and a small jar of river moss poultice. The last of these could help with wounds; Churchkey had found the benefit of such a moss when seeing deer rub wounds against moss-covered rocks in the small streams. Ninus settled these into a pile near the cooking fire, and headed to his father's tent. Somewhat bare; Churchkey had enjoyed spending long hours out in the woods, or guarding a recent caravan overturn. Ninus' family had only been savage upon necessity, for casualties and wounds were something to be avoided with no proper healer about. Ninus found a book, some silly bit of fluff he'd probably picked off of a caravan. Churchkey, while a smart man, had been learning to read better. It must have been something easy on the eyes for him to practice on. He set the book aside as well as two changes of his father's clothes. Though it hurt him to think of it, he would have to sell them. They did him little good. He took stock of his father's tent. He had an extra bedroll to sell, a book, and two changes of clothing. This he also brought next to the fire and looked at the ragged tent. No one would buy such a mockery of canvas, patched up with spare cloaks and bad stitching. He burned it. Ninus had noticed Wade had come. To see him, perhaps, or to see what he could steal? He didn't know the man that well. He had known Brother had saved Wade's life, and the man had said and done nothing when Ninus and his family were arrested. An unpaid life debt Wade would now never be able to repay. He looked and saw the position Wade was in, forehead to the ground. To Ninus, it was a gesture of agony he had been in only an hour ago. "Let him come; thou willst not understand the pain of a life debt that cannot be repaid." Ninus called to Ser Wade across the camp. "I would speak to him of such things...his heart is not the only one that bleeds in this glen." Ninus approached Brother's tent. He still had the man's giant sword, laying on a saddlepad where he had taken Jack's tack off. He could barely move it, and considered burying it where it lay. But perhaps, there was something for Wade from Brother that would help soothe the man's heart. Ah, he spied it. Brother's tent was as bare as Churchkey's, but he did have something precious. He picked up the small charm dedicated to Myri...a pair of giant claws Brother always claimed came from a giant tiger from across the sea. Of all the highwaymen, Brother had been the most religious. He had felt his strength and courage in battle came from Myri herself, and that it meant he was bound to follow her. Apparently, most of the men and women who followed the savage goddess were human beasts. Merciless and brave. Brother had been enthusiastic about learning of his goddess' savage children. The poisoner remembered he would have to set up a small sacrifice of the salt pork and perhaps Brother's blade in honor to her. Ninus came out of the tent, holding the necklace of claws, simple clay beads and hemp. He waited quietly for Wade to come to him, if come to him he chose. He was as still as a deer, though Jack was eyeing the other horses and men that smelt of steel suspiciously.