We Put The ''Merc" in Merchants... [Mercenary Travel Thread]

[Ivan]

Winter 15, 510 AV

He was free! The city and it’s walls yielded to the open sky and greenery. The paved ground gave way to dirt and grass, the latter Ivan was still getting used to. He would have his chance, though. He moved to the first tree he saw from the city gate and sat down in it’s shade. It was noon on this rather cold winter day, though the chill was less here then in his mountain home. He lay his hammer across his lap as he sat, his pack making a cushion between him and the tree. He would likely have to wait for some time in the relative openness.

It was time to leave, and of that he was glad. He’d done all he could here, but it seemed to work out quite well. His comrades should be joining him today. He expected travel to the new city to be rough though, more so then his way here. The city called Ravok, home to the evil and unclean. A most perfect place to start offering his, and his comrade’s, services. He gave prayer to Izurdin, that he have the strength to lead them. He had an unsettling feeling that this journey would be a hard one.

[Caleb]

This was the time. He had finally decided to leave the room and wander around the city, and just his luck, he had hear rumor of a new roaming organization. Whatever it was, it was the perfect opprotunity for Caleb and Jason to get out of the city. He had been so excited about that, he hadnt been able to sleep all night. Though somehow, he had forgotten to actually speak to Jason about it. Waking up with the dawn, Caleb quickly picked up his pack, wrote a quick note to Jason, and set out to the rondevous. Walking along the path, his pack jingled and clanked with all his cooking equipment. There was no way he was leaving without those. Smiling brightly he almost started to hum to himself, however he stopped himself when he realised he was surrounded by people walking around him. He didnt want to start off his trip by being mocked. Picking up his pace he stepped out of the gates of syliras, his smile growing wider. He was free and the open road was where he was headed. After he found this group to travel with. That was when he saw the man sitting against a tree a short distance away. Moving over to him, Caleb said quietly "Hello, do you know where the band that's departing is? i'm planning on joining them" grinning slightly, caleb reached up and moved his hair out of his eye's. As he did so, he thought to himself, 'I must look so pathetic to anyone trying to create a traveling band, but i'll make them realise my use'. This was his trip, whoever he travelled with better realise that. THis was his freedom, and he was going to abuse it.

[Thunder]

Thunder sat on a fencepost near the gate, looking at all the people coming and going from the great city. He often did this, people-watching, for it wrought in him a sense of peacefulness, almost as if he were watching the world itself turn in front of him. Merchants with horse-drawn carts laden with trade goods, groups - perhaps families - travelling, visiting relatives or some such. Sighing contentedly, Thunder's eyes almost gaze over Ivan without stopping, almost letting him get by unnoticed. Almost.

"Ivan!" Thunder yelled out. "Ivan, over here!" Scampering down the wooden pole supporting the part of fence he was on, he made his way towards the short, stocky man, who had apparently not heard him. Glancing quickly behind him, checking for his pack which was secured over his shoulder, Thunder almost gasps at a piece of clay-like material trapped on a splinter on the wood. He runs back and grabs this piece of himself, and places it back on his arm, where it had come from. Smoothing the surface, he feels the clay reconnecting to his Nexus, once more becoming a part of him.

Pondering how he managed to miss spotting the splinter, and how he failed to realize a piece of him was missing (ripped off, no less), he resigned it to excitement on his part, and made his way back to Ivan, who was at this point leaning against a tree.

Dodging feet, human and equine alike, Thunder tosses his pack and rolls, narrowly avoiding becoming roadkill due to a wagon-wheel. Picking his stuff back up, he makes the short trip to the tree in record time, waving to Ivan.

"Hey! Today is the day, then?" The Pycon exclaims, excitedly. "We're leaving?" Thunder walks closer to him, spots his bag, and puts his own small cotton sack in it, freeing his left arm. After that, he jumped quite suddenly, clinging on to Ivan's shirt. Hand over hand, he climbs up to Ivans' shoulder, perching where he was bound to spend most of his time.

Like this he sat, waiting for the rest of the troupe and watching the traffic on the thoroughfare through the Syliran gates pass by.

Detaching from the stream of people came a youthful human, with medium length brown hair and brown eyes. His height seemed to rival Ivan's, though he was a few inches taller. "Hello, do you know where the band that's departing is? i'm planning on joining them."

With a mischievous grin on his face, Thunder answered, "There are many bands departing this day. Which is the one you're looking for?" If the boy never heard of Pycons before this day, he would be quite surprised to hear the little clay man speak. If he had, then he might be surprised at the depth of his voice, which is what one might expect from a 25 year old human. All-in-all, Thunder would cherish his expression.

[Coba]

Coba elbowed her way through the crowds, pulling along her horse behind her. On the one hand, she was ecstatic to be leaving Syliras, on the other, quite irritated that it was taking so long to get through the people around the gate with her horse, packed as it was with gear, in tow. She herself was well bundled up, wearing all the clothes she owned. After much swearing, shoving and occasional foot stomping, she emerged on the other side, endless acres of wildland in front of her, castle behind. She imagined that the stone at her back heaved a sigh of relief to be rid of her nuisance. Such a reaction, however unreal, was more then fine with her. Her own irritation was tempered and subsequently quelled by leaving the city. It was a while coming, but she was, at the end of the ordeal anyway, more then happy just to have gotten through her sentence in the paradise of niceties. Her pause for internal reflection was interrupted by the shove of her horse's nose at her back, the beast agitated still be the number of people yet at his hindquarters. Shoved back into motion, she stumbled a step or two before settling into the amble suitable for long travel, her head swinging side to side as she glanced about for her company. It turned out she was late. What a surprise. When she saw the Isur, comfortably situated beneath the shade of a tree, across his lap, of all things, a hammer. Now, while she could appreciate what a hammer could do to a skull, she never thought them the best of weapons. They were slow, requiring backswing to deal force and not the same reactive speed as something light and sharp, in her opinion anyway. She scoffed a bit. To each his own, eh? She laughed quietly to herself. She made her way over to the amassing company. That boy of some relation to the Jason fellow had wandered in. Cyril or something of that sound. C something. She wondered what had happened to his brother. Wondered, but didn't care to ask. He would wash in with the tide as the day grew older. She heard a voice, belonging to a man, but yet without a body of appropriate size. She looked around in surprise. It had come from the Isur's direction, but it was not he who had spoken. And then she spotted it, or at least thought she did. Having never seen anything so small, yet humanly alive before, she stared rather openly. What on earth?

[Jason Luntilla]

OOCI assumed that an earlier set up went somewhat as planned and I bought mine and my brother’s horse, and that Coba told me about the Mercs

I’m late I’m late I’m late this was quite possibly the only thing he heard as he stumbled his way through the crowd, dragging his and his brother’s horse behind him, his brother had reminded him, Coba had told him, he needed to remember to do things more frequently and less forgetfully, that got him in more trouble than he would have liked, and now he may have lost his last chance at adventure.

He will finally make it through the crowd and Coba is standing there staring at a Pycon, and Caleb is standing next to an Isur. This was where he was supposed to be, no doubt about it, he will shout at Caleb, “Hey you forgot your horse, I brought it for you, also you need to work on your penmanship.” He will stick out his tongue at Caleb, attempting to mask how uncomfortable he is that he was late, he never really got accustomed to his inability to be on time, no matter how hard he tried. He will look around at the group and wave a relatively friendly hello, and say, “Hello everyone my name is Jason, just so we can get the obnoxious formal introductions out of the way, and it appears that most of you already know me as it is.”

He will walk up to the Thunder and start examining him, turn to Coba and say, “why are you staring at this, have you never seen a Pycon before?” turning to Thunder, “I assume that given your current form you are a male, though I also assume that because you do not appear particularly brittle that you are rather young.” He will extend his hand to Thunder, “It is nice to meet you my good Pycon.”

[Kuujin]

Kuujin walked up the Kabrin Road, heading towards the city. There was a sort of unease in his step, as though he wasn’t exactly sure of what he was doing. That, although partially true wasn’t the cause of his slight discomfort. His problem was that, for once, was in his human form, and it was the beginnings of winter. He’d spent the last hours walking through the woods, towards the city and away from his cave home. He’d cleaned it out of all of the yellow bits from his cave and donned the least blood-stained pair of old pairs of breeches he had laying around. He’d been to Silyras once before, and he had no intentions of returning within its walls. But, the main thing he had learned was that if he was going to interact with the smelly humans and other things, he needed clothes. It was beyond him as to why, but they seemed to get quite upset if he looked like they did but wore no clothing. So, he had pants. Pants that he’d taken from one particularly annoying man who hadn’t tasted bad at all. Walking down the road, Kuujin may have been a rather curious sight to any who happened to look his way. A very large man; unkempt hair and beard, fully nude save for a pair of loose fitting breeches and a bag at his hip that seemed to be rather heavy and quite full. He wore no shoes, no shirt, nor a cloak, despite the cold weather and the snow on the ground, and to say that it was causing him more than a little discomfort would be putting it politely. Still, he had made his mind up or rather, that short little man with the hammer had convinced him. As the towering castle finally broke through the boughs of the trees, Kuujin turned his head skyward. Ivan had said that he needed to be there when the sun was halfway across the sky, and it was past that. He found himself hoping that he hadn’t already left, though why he actually cared was beyond him. As he continued walking, he vaguely became aware of the painful numb feeling in his feet, though mostly ignored it. If it got any worse than he’d just go back to being normal, despite what the guards thought. It’s not like he was going to be in the city. Just then, he heard a voice call out “Ivan!” as well as some movement further along. He saw a few people gathering together, and figured that must be the “others” that Ivan had mentioned. Without so much as a word he strolled past the few others, not even noticing the strange and small clay-man, and plops himself down against a tree a few yards away from Ivan without so much as a word. ‘Cold…’ he thought to himself, rubbing his hand awkwardly against his somewhat discolored foot. Apparently trudging through the woods barefoot was a bad idea when looking like a human. Lesson learned.

[Ataraxia]

This band of misfits would only have so much time before the breadth of their journey would be realized, and they would redirect their attention to the journey ahead rather than idle chatter and greetings. Under the direction of their apparent leader, the group would make their way through the wilderness guided by a loose pathway. The relative safety of the Kabrin Road was of no use to them, for they weren't destined to set foot in Taldera. Rather, they marched for Ravok. As the minutes turned into hours and fatigue began to set in on the group, the weather seemed to beat their spirits down. What was once a mild winter day with the odd melting pile of thin snow banking the road turned into something treacherous. The skies darkened, gray clouds bordering on black dispensing a frozen sleet upon their bodies and turning their dirt path into a pit of near-frozen mud. Accompanying the sleet and mud came the obvious blistering winds that would chill the travelers bones and bring misery upon their animals. It would soon become obvious that though the group was no doubt hardy, the conditions were far from ideal to continue their travels. A camp would need to be made, but where? The band would come across a small path that cut through the trees to one side of the makeshift road, leading to a small clearing with thick grass to their knees and tree surrounding it on all sides. They would be slightly protected from the winds there, but not the frozen raid and bitter cold. Yet from the very spot on the road that the path could be seen, a small knee high fence of stacked stone was visible in the distance. Obviously man made, any further investigation would reveal a small cabin of basic structure that was uninhabited. The travelers could seek refuge here, protected from the elements, or rather brave them by building a camp in the clearing. The choice would be made, but the tedious assignments of scouting, food preparation, building a fire and tending to the animals would need to be assigned regardless. If they were to stay in the outdoors, a structure would need to be assembled to house the group for the time being. It was merely the beginning of the journey that inevitably wrought with danger. However, this band of would be mercenaries had already encountered one of the most dangerous foes one can face in Mizahar. And that was Mizahar itself.

[Ivan]

Nature was unforgiving this day. The wind and rain beat down his group, but like him they moved on. Still, no cold would stop them. They must be strong in this line of work. His boots were wet and he heard behind him the unhappy grunt of animals. Ivan took point, as his eyes could see better in the cloud cover then those of a human. He had his pack flipped to his front as he hunched over, with his little clay friend inside. He’d been told water harms them.

Kuujin was in the back, the powerful man would protect the rear. He was not sure in what order the others were in, and it did not really matter anyway. He had his hammer in his hand, as always, but moved up to account for his bending forward. His muscles twitched and he shivered with cold. Usually this would not bother him, as he was of the mountains, but the rain was beating the cold into him. It was at this point, luck struck them. The trees gave way to a clearing, that was protected from the winter wind’s chill. Ivan gave a smile, though, as he saw a seemingly abandoned cottage. The latter choice seemed far better then the first.

The home seemed to be in disrepair, but it was better then nothing. It was worn and old, with a small stone wall fence. It looked about as old as him, unkempt and unused. He stopped, holding his right fist high. This was taught to his kin as the sign to stop, and listen. Though he doubted the others knew the meaning of this, but his stopping should have been indication to do the same. Ever cautious, this gift of luck had to be tested. Ivan spoke in tones that could, and have, been heard over the forges of Izurdin’s temple that his kin had paid homage to for the last three generations.

“ Fellows, Hold! I am strong, but not even I can stand this cold when night falls. It seems the gods have granted us favor, as we have found shelter. Still, even the divine can be deviant. Coba, you are the best hunter with us. Search the house, we may not be the only ones in need of shelter.

“ Caleb, take the reins of her horse, lest we have to search for it later. Kuujin, come here, she may need us... Jason, watch our backs. If anything moves that isn’t one of us, kill it. Kill it fast.” His orders were short and to the point, and he awaited news if the inside with hope in his heart. Hope that it truly was unoccupied, any way. This weather would be very unpleasant to fight in.

[Thunder]

Apart from glances at him, nobody said much. Some had obviously not seen Pycons before, but one of them... What was his name... Jason. He was someone elses brother, though which one he was related to, Thunder didn't know. He was smart. Maybe not well equipped for battle, except that he was a reimancer (or so he was told), but he was smart. Book smart. Ivan could learn how to read, maybe. He thought, grinning.

The trip started rather uneventfully. Instead of taking the Kabrin road, they had taken some path in the woods, for apparently, Ravok wasn't in Taldera. They wouldn't be leaving the region. At least I'm out of the city... And indeed, this was out of the city. There was no sign of civilization, but for the path they were on, which, for all Thunder knew, could have been a game path (though he doubted it).

The weather was turning sour. Gray clouds turned black, writhing in the heavens like a sea of smoke. Then, the rain started. It was half frozen, being so cold, and Thunder, after a few minutes, started to feel uncomfortable. Syliras got cold in the winter, true, but he was usually inside, so he didn't feel the brunt of it. This is what a Syliran winter felt like...

Having enough of the cold weather, Thunder decided to seek refuge in Ivan's pack. "It's cold, eh?" He shouted through the storm, thought it was probably unnecessary. "My body can't really be here in the rain like this for too long!" One or two consecutive days of straight rain, with him being out in the open, might eventually do him harm. He didn't mention that though. "I might wash away!" Almost certainly not true, but better safe than sorry. Besides, they might not make him do too much if they thought the rain would harm him.

Sliding down Ivan's arm, the little Pycon found his way into the Isur's pack and settled down next to a shirt. Finding his own small cotton pack, which was stored in the bigger leather one, he takes a piece of clay and eats it nonchalantly, protected from the weather by the covering of the pack. Everything but occasional gusts of wind was deterred, and all-in-all, Thunder felt quite comfortable. Comfortable enough to sleep...

Thunder was a small dog, running through mouse holes and barking at the mice, which were almost twice his size. Their beady red eyes followed his jumping movements with indifference, their tails swishing about as they focused on eating what was left of a cheese wheel. Willing himself to grow, Thunder turned almost instantaneously into a doberman of gigantic proportions, barely fitting in the space in the wall. His bark sent a giant wave of sound which knocked the mice off of their feet, and they squeeled, scared now, running away. Grinning happily, the dog finished the cheese, and realized he could not get out of the mouse hole, for he was too big. The mice, their red eyes glowing in the darkness, had come back, and were now thrice their original size. Snarling like wolves, they advanced on him, waiting to strike. Tail between his legs, Thunder backed to the wall, when the rats pounced-

“Fellows, Hold! I am strong, but not even I can stand this cold when night falls. It seems the gods have granted us favor, as we have found shelter. Still, even the divine can be deviant. Coba, you are the best hunter with us. Search the house, we may not be the only ones in need of shelter.

“Caleb, take the reins of her horse, lest we have to search for it later. Kuujin, come here, she may need us... Jason, watch our backs. If anything moves that isn’t one of us, kill it. Kill it fast.”

Thunder woke to Ivan's booming voice, which carried through the forest. Apparently they had found a house of some sort on the path through the forest. Briefly wondering how long he had been asleep, he sat up, unconciously grabbing another piece of clay from his pack. Something was blocking the bottom portion of his vision... He realized with a start that he had grown a snout, something akin to that of a dogs'. Concentrating, his face regained the features it had previously as he reshaped it with his nexus. Changing shape during a dream wasn't that uncommon for him, but he hadn't realized he had been asleep for long enough to even dream. Trying to remember the dream, he could not - something about a dog, obviously, and he vaguely remembered a mouse hole in a wooden wall... It didn't really matter.

The house, that's what was important. Sending a quick prayer to Harameus, Thunder hoped it was uninhabited, by man or beast, and that it was in good enough repair that they could use it. Hitching a tent would be difficult, and trying to start a fire in this weather would be near impossible. Poking his head out of the pack, Thunder shouted up at Ivan.

"What can I do?"

[Coba]

The trek was turning out like most did, and even for one who had travelled before it was far to easy to gloss over the details of travel for what in one's memory were the best days of ones life. Elation fades to blisters on feet and a dull burn in one's calves. Not to mention that if one's mind could get around complaining about how much your feet hurt, it started to question everything about the journey. Like why she couldn't have just stayed put in Syliras until spring, or how if she slipped in this slick crap that the roads, if one could call them that, one more time she was going to. . . do something somewhat terrible. Not that she could think of what, at the moment anyway. But before they had left and Coba had become so irate in the privacy of her brain, she had stared at the huge man that approached without so much as a word and sat in a similar fashion to Ivan, a small smile flitting across her face. It was not a particularly nice smile, but not exceptionally cruel. After the escapade with Sanibelle, she didn't even need to look for further clues as to why he was half naked and barefoot. Kelvic. He had to be. She hoped that his size, so much more so then anyone who had assembled so far, was an indicator of some impressive animal. But whatever creature his hide disguised, he was cold at the moment. Dropping her horse's lead, she turned back to rummage around the load her horse carried. She found what she was looking for with a grunt of satisfaction, the lightly weather proofed winter blanket unrolling from it's tight bundle under her hands. She carried it over to the newcomer and dropped it in his lap. She justified it as he was no bloody good to them frozen solid, though in the back of her mind rallied chimes of indignation. She'd been far too nice lately. She made up more excuses for herself. On the trail, Coba was well into treasonous thoughts, most about the prowess of a dwarf fresh from the mountains. Her discontent as they blundered about in freezing rain went unarticulated, manifesting in a low but continuous rumble wrapped up in her chest, silenced to anyone's ears by layers of clothes. She walked towards the back of the line, occasionally loosing her footing as what looked solid turned out to be otherwise. Must he talk so goddamn formally? It's enough to make me nuts. And this formal tone was also going to get her killed. Bloody typical. While she had reservations about Jason watching their asses, should this be some trap, she was privately glad to have the bear man at her back. Casting Caleb a seriously dubious glance, she reluctantly pushed her long sleeves back to hand over the reins. She wanted to say something not just a bit spiteful about loosing him, but bit it back, along with the many other comments that were rising to her vocal cords. Breaking line, she walked past Ivan, muttering a bit about the differences between a tracker and hunter, and how both were irrelevant in this case anyway. What she was was a downright dirty fighter. She hoped that would scrape her by here. Walking towards the house, she reached over her shoulder to palm the handle of her sword, allowing her hand, warm from their protection of her sleeves, to melt the thin ice that had glossed over it. As the leather wrapping the implement became maleble in her hands and secure to grip, quickly too, she drew the blade with a soft rasp. Sinking to the ground to balance on her haunches, she scooped and shaped a rough ball out of the substance that barely passed for snow today, then another. Indicating the bear man with a nod of her head, and a soft "Oi," she tossed him them underhand then rose. In the same repressed voice, "Throw one of those when I give you a nod, at the door. Hard. If nothing happens, do it again." Her backup suitably set up, she padded as quietly as dried then frozen winter grass would allow, hoping the bad weather would draw away from her approach, sword in hand, around to the side of the house, keeping her position always to the side of the main opening. If it was sentient, she figured, or more or less hoped, it would burst out the front to address those that trespassed. If it was something else. . . they'd have to pray it wasn't grossly dire or predatory. If something erupted out the front, she'd have the jump on it, from behind. Pressing as close as she dared to the creaky boards, she listened intently for sounds, paused a moment, then gave Kuujin his signal. And waited.