Open The Trap Line

[Alair]

Fall 11, 513 AV

The sun hadn’t yet poked its golden head over the horizon, the chill autumn dark shrouded a lone figure, fully laden in gear, with a soft yew bow clutched in his hand. The man stalked as quietly as he could, slowly, but purposefully. Alair was following a trail he had been walking for years, checking his snare. He only had a handful of them, at one time his father had dozens of traps, of varying size for anything from rabbits, to foxes, and beavers. Alair didn’t have the same skill his father did, didn’t have the same knowledge of the Bronze Woods, or even of how to snare and trap like his father. If only he would have had more time to learn from the old hunter. But, things never work out like they are intended.

He checked the first snare, it fortunately had a rabbit in it, dead, and chill. Alair set it on the ground, and drew his hunting knife, a short single bladed knife, well cared for, and sharp. It effortlessly cut through the rabbit’s fur. A single long cut, from the sternum, to the navel. He turned his knife around, and using the small hook he cracked the rabbits rib cage, it was rather simple with the knife, and the fragile bones were easily broken, and peeled back. Alair reached his hand into the cavity, and firmly pulled out the mass of organs that the rabbit no longer needed. He pulled out his snare, and set it in his bag. He would need to place it somewhere else.

He lashed the rabbit to his bag, he would skin it when he had more light, he slowly stalked along his trap line, checking each of them. He didn’t have much luck with the others, and by the time he reached the little clearing he had made during the few years he had been trapping in the woods. The hunter set about making his camp, hanging the rabbit up by the feet to finish draining, while he set up his tent and arranged the stones for his fire pit. It would hopefully be another quiet hunting trip in the Bronze woods. But, you know what they say about plans.

[Bolivar]

Morning had come.

Fearful thoughts and regret were still fresh in the squire's mind waking up on the forest floor. It had been raining hard yesterday. It looked as if that there was a break in the action between the chain of storms early this season. Just as well, the squire's mood wasn't based on the weather that day. Having just undergone a draining ordeal it was safe to say that the was the last thing in Bolivar's mind. He had to get outta here. The squire had to go back home.

Yet he could not find the strength to move.

Rather, Bolivar would not dare summon the strength to do more then sit upright from where he was. His body was still reeling and there was too much uncertainty of the squire's state. Bolivar did not envy his mount today. Spending a night out in the rain even with the cover of the Bronze Woods, the pair of them both likely to have caught a cold given the circumstances.

"Much worse then that." The squire almost squeaked as a weak cough escaped his lips.

No Bolivar wouldn't move right now. The squire knew nothing and until he did he would wait until he better understood. Better to just wait it out rather then risk straining himself further right? But how long would the Bronze Wood give him before it proves another possible threat to the squire's life. The Bronze Wood was definitely still ripe with mystery. Hopefully not of the killing persuasion for the squire's sake.

Read thisFirst off it is Fall rather then Autumn in Miza. Since you posted the date as the 11th I'll just tell you that my character did some stuff in the wood around the 10th so that's why Bolivar found himself lying around in the wood. I'll try to keep the posts short and flowing for your benefit. Let's both have fun with this.

[Alair]

OOCLemme know if this works for you, not too experianced at this yet.

The hunter had warmed his bones enough, a combination of the rising sun, and the cozy fire he had made. Of the 5 traps he had set yesterday, only one had anything in it. Alair was worried, if he didn’t get anything good on this trip, he’d be set back far for the season, and even for hunters mizas were important. His Luvanor Hunter, Bongo, had finally joined its master at the camp- the dog certainly did enjoy the Bronze Woods, but they had work to do. “Ready to get to work?” he said in a low voice to his dog, who began to happily wave his tail- the hunt was always exciting to both of the hunters.

Alair stretched, and set the rest of his gear down, he needed to get a deer for this trip to be a success. He looked up at the sun in the east, and turned to face west. He was trying to find his nearest trap line, that was near a deer run. He grabbed his five snares, little more than ropes with a knot on the end. “come on” said Alair in a commanding tone, and the hunter pushed his way through the underbrush.

Alair set the first trap, the damp undergrowth made chilled the hunters hands, but this is the life he had to live, all part of the job. He moved down the path, and began to set the second snare, but Bongo had other ideas. He stalked down the path, the hair on his neck bristled. He saw something, smelt something. Alair clutched his bow, and whistled, loud and shrill. Bongo moved out of sight, but the noises that came weren’t those of a dog that found game, there was something else in these woods, and Alair ran after his dog, his bow at the ready.

[Bolivar]

Eyes still tired and red from exertion Bolivar found himself at rest despite his given situation. If Bolivar was going to be thrown into another life threatening struggle it was just fate, it mattered not to him. Just as well, the squire would die on his feet with his axe in hand. That's how any warrior wanted to go.

So Bolivar sat there despite the overwhelming fear the mage was suppose to feel. He was alive, here and now, that was paramount. That was all that really mattered. Looking down at the fresh unmarked grave in front of him Bolivar simply watched as if looking at the spot long enough would bring her back. He didn't want that in truth, in fact Bolivar had already given Sarah more then he ever wanted to give to another. The squire was simply drained of his tears, nothing more would came out.

"Many an unmarked grave hidden in these Bronze Woods."

Miming something Bolivar had heard the woman in grave said the day before Bolivar found himself with his axe across his lap alternating looking at his weapon and the turned earth. Closing his eyes to rest Bolivar mind was still abuzz despite his attempts to calm himself. Breathing slow only reminded him of the bile that recently left his body. Trying to smell the air around him only agitated his nose with a mild burning sensation. His ears picking up the first of several sounds nearby. Inwardly sighing Bolivar kept his resting stance as he prepared himself for what came next.

[Alair]

Alair whistled low, for his dog, the command to heel. The dog had a scent, its fur bristled. ‘What manner of beast is in these woods?’ thought the hunter, running down a list of animals he knew, but he hadn’t seen any signs of them in the woods. No bear scat, no wolf tracks, no coyote calls, nothing came to mind. He didn’t even want to think about else existed out there, let the knights take care of that stuff is what he believed. That was their job after all. His dog retreated, behind its master, still at the ready. “What to do?” he whispered to his dog, who of course lacked the facilities to answer. “ah, you stupid mutt.” The hunter knocked an arrow, and crouched forward, curiosity was always the bane of the hunter.

Alair moved as quietly as he could through the underbrush, the years of dead leaves, saplings, and other plants made this a difficult task, but hopefully he could take the beast unaware. It was a strange beastie, it wasn’t even on a deer run, maybe it treed something it really wanted to eat, or maybe it was sleeping. But what sort of predator would make such a nest? He crept forward, twigs snapped gently, and leaves crunched under foot, Alair nearly shyked with each step, what was hiding in these weeds, the suspense was killing the hunter, though that’s not all that could, this monster could very well tear the hunter to shreds.

Yet still he walked, and he choked down his fear, as adrenaline took over. He could see a figure, almost human shape through the woods. ‘Shyke, shyke, shye.’ Thought Alair ‘What to do?’ He pulled his bow back, the wood stretched, and his arm began to ache, and he whistled loud to get the shape’s attention “Oy! Are you friend or prey?”

[Bolivar]

That was an odd question to answer. What kind of person would choose prey?

"Neither."

Bolivar's eyes flew open as his hand went to the axe laying silently at his lap.

"I am a warrior in mourning, in the morning."

Bolivar's eyes followed the whistle to see the intruder already putting a bead on the squire. That was an unsettling sight to wake up to. Though compared to yesterday Bolivar's demeanor seemed more miffed then surprised.

"If it isn't obvious enough."

Granted the grave might have been harder to see because of the rain the makeshift marker Bolivar placed on the grave made it quite easy to spot. Still feeling that jarring feeling in his right arm Bolivar tested gripping his weapon experimentally. Bolivar held the great axe but for a few moments before settling back down. Getting up with it was hard enough but the squire doubted that the man would show him much mercy if he knew how fatigued he was.

So acting as if everything was fine and he simply mourning. That irregular breathing and pained breathes? All part of the process. The knights did not keep liars in their ranks but Bolivar wasn't quite lying just yet.

"There a reason you are aiming that at me? Don't quite like squires?"

[Alair]

Alair furrowed his brow as he strained to hold the bow held back, the shape wasn’t an animal, which he wasn’t sure how he felt about now. If it was an animal its intentions would be clear, but with a man, you cant be sure. His arm wavered for a second, the full weight of the bow was held by his three fingers. And what was this “squire” the man spoke of? The name sounds so familiar, like he should know what it was. But he couldn’t make any associations, not with the bow yearning to be released. He held there for a moment, watching the man, noticing that he was armed, he hadn’t seen the giant axe before, Alair thought since he was a warrior, he was probably armored too, so even if he wanted to, the short bow wouldn’t stop this “squire”

Alair eased the bow, as his arm screamed in protest, “I don’t know what this ‘squire’ nonsense is, but I have no quarrel with you.” He hoped the warrior would ease, and not decide to decapitate the hunter, but he kept his arrow knocked. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your mourning, either. Its just that you’re near my game trail, and startled my dog.” He kept eyeing the man, ‘well, petch, what to do here?’ he thought.

Alair noticed the grave, with a little marker- it was freshly dug, but soggy from the rain. The hunter stood up fully, making no more attempt to hide, but he held the clutched the bow firmly, and nervously. “Who was it?’ he asked, almost casually, taking off his hat as a sign of respect.

[Bolivar]

Squire nonsense.

A low guttural response came from Bolivar at that.

This monkey thinks himself people does he? Just how wild does one have to be in the Bronze Woods to not know of the Knights?

"I am sorry for startling your beast then."

The squire's eyes going to the mutt before looking back at the man. His eyes were still probably bloodshot but perhaps since it was so early and he had been "crying" that it was normal. No, it was perfectly normal. Nevertheless the man was still quite uneasy around the squire.

"What do you think? Some random mage girl that I chased into the Bronze Woods and killed."

The last part was a bit too much of a statement on Bolivar's part. Taking a deep breathe Bolivar gave an irate breathe before answering the stranger's question. Knight did not raise liars in their ranks, not anymore.

"Sarah was her name. I met her only yesterday screaming for help as she walked along the road. Robed in red and her eyes lighting up when she heard me a squire. What do you think of that?"