Closed The Road Not Taken (Crypt)

[Sighard]

Invariably it was bound to happen. The trained temperament of a knight was bound to clash with the volatility of adolescence. Impatience, a disfiguring trait of youth smeared over his expressions hotly via a furrowed brow and a full frown. He felt the hairs begin to rise on edge as his skin crept narrowly along his frame, an irritated reflex that ushered a subtle sort of shake. Petch, I could use a drink right now. . . His thoughts were reflective of such a notion when they were not focused on the smarmy nature of Crypt which nearly threatened him to action. "Why couldn't you have been a bandit? You'd have made for a more pleasant stop." Sighard responded, sharply and with an inferior regard for the man below him. He was wary not to get sucked into the provocation of the Drykas, knowing full well he was dangerously close to pushing the limits of his mentality.

The horse blow jerked it's neck at an uneasy wind, that howled ominously against the rattling treetops. There were now lengthy shadows on the ground that seemed to reach out and grab the two men as if trying to encapsulate them in their allure and consume them in the coming darkness. At the rate the sun had been setting, Sighard would need his torch for sure. And so, as protocol dictated, he reached nearer a pack fastened to the saddle and produced the tool for good measure. At this point he gestured impatiently to Crpyt with it.

"I give you leave to search for a Ravine if it suits you. There's more then one in these woods and I'm sure the Yukmen wouldn't mind the company." To this Sighard flashed a devilish, almost pleased grin, piggybacking off the sentiment with additional comment, "Not sure if they'll care much about your talk of truth and reality though. I hear they like to be wined and dined first." With that said, Sighard spurred his steed into motion, a small trot that circumvented Crypt and poised him nearer the entrance of the the clearing, though he did reverse to face the man again, a serious expression then decorating his demeanor.

"Then again I'm sure that weapon you carry is not just for show, hmm?"

[Crypt]

"Well, that's just your luck." Crypt shrugged. "I would have been a bandit, but I took an arrow to the knee, and it annoyed me so much that I decided to go wandering instead." Crypt closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, allowing the strong winds to wash over him, tousling his long, dark hair. Nearby, Maras whinnied impatiently, having too felt the creation of Zulrav. "Well, I don't need permission from one such as you. I don't know about the Yukmen, but I'll chance it if I ever want to spend the night in a ravine. If they can appreciate wine and fine cuisine, they'll be my new best friends." Crypt watched in amusement as the squire made another comment. "Well, I have some skill in using my longsword, but 'tis but at the level of an amateur. Still, having a weapon is better than having none - a lucky slash to the head is better than a punch in quite a few situations."

[Sighard]

“Wandering gets men killed these days, especially men who proclaim themselves amateur swordsmen. Even the Knights don’t traverse out alone without armaments and a plan. Do you have a plan or—“ Sighard was cut obtrusively off by the smell of—death, or it seemed more life. It was a smoldering mixture of both that was accompanied by a debilitating growl. Few things were as paralyzing as the combination of these things, and the massive shadow which sauntered otherwise soundlessly through the woods. With only a deep violet sky above, littered with the brightest of emblems, it was a task to make out the exact figure of the new intruder. He worked to light the torch in his hand as he spoke. “Speaking of plan, it seems we’ve got an uninvited guest if you couldn’t already tell by the smell of his fresh kill.” By this point the squire’s tones had dropped considerably and were directed nearer only Crypt. The torch lit, a bit afterwards and lit the area of the clearing to some degree.

“It looks a lot larger than a wolf, could be some excess djed got into it and turned it to what it is now. They’re a lot more vicious than your typical beast so be on your guard and make every swing count.” By this point it was evident that the creature had marked the two men as it’s next meal—it’s previous kill not having satisfied, but rather sharpening it’s appetite. The squire feared such a temperament could prove disastrous to the two men and he desperately wanted to whistle for a nearby Knight. However, he he kicked his steed into action instead, trotting along with the shadow as it encircled a perimeter of it’s prey, presumably searching for an opening to strike. It stalked expertly in the shadows and there were instants, gut-wrenching things, where Sighard could not see the animal in the darkness. At this point he drew his blade.

“It’s getting closer, steady now. . .” Sighard advised, although it had the potential to be construed as a command, he had no true leverage only the man. He’d only hoped the vested interest of staying alive was a commonality between them. He also noted the degree to which the size of the wolf actually was and it was terrifying. It was nearly double the size of a regular beast and the pupils of of its eyes were dilated to a maddening state. There was no empathy in the creature, only pure instinct.

[Crypt]

“Well, I'm still alive. I'd say I have quite a bit of luck there. Nearly lost my life a few times, but I'm fine. I'm just travelling in one big circle - going back home to Cyphrus in Summer.” Maras raised his head towards his left, scenting something, becoming slightly nervous. He moved over to Crypt, who in turn drew his longsword and held it in front of him. “Aye. The beastie's on the hunt. Another dire wolf, I see. The Djed storms have transformed quite a few critters - this one's a huge animal. It's only been a few days since I fought one. Curious, that one should be rather near Syliras, but still, this is the Bronze Woods.” Crypt turned slowly, watching for any tell-tale hints of the lupine creature that now stalked them in the lengthening shadows of the surrounding trees. He motioned to Maras swiftly, the Strider responding by backing away from Crypt. “I've dealt with one alone before, but it appears this one is more dangerous. Unfortunately, we will have to work together. You have the greater range with that spear of yours - I suggest you try distracting him while I flank him from the side, if he falls for it.”

[Sighard]

“Way more dangerous,” Sighard muttered, or so the temperament of the slurring shadow told, through the heavy footfalls the pounded snapping twigs and fresh leaves and the guttural growl that was both unearthly and hungry. It hit a pitch, just so that ran shivers along the flesh of his horse and caused it to whinny piteously. Though try as he could, the jamming of spurs into its thick belly did naught but cause faint vessels of blood to run along its coat. The squire groaned, for he knew it was not the time for pause and the advantage of horseback was an invaluable advantage, but still it reared its head and defied the opportunity to make itself a target for the wolf. And these are warhorses, trained to be fearless in combat. . . The thought lingered for a moment as the boy swung down from his horse, echoing an uneasy grating of metal joints and hinges.

Now the presence dominated both the view of Crypt and Sighard. It was a monster that stood on powerful legs, extending its frame to about their height. The furry mane dominated all other features, and was right the size of a boulder, carved with a menacing, salivating jaw. It’s breath was a powerful gust that induced a nausea. The ripe smell of blood and death seethed easily between yellow fangs. And the stare was pronounced, two pale ovals which stared distantly into oblivion and contained no kindness. They were as cold as the winds that stirred through the trees.

It did not take much for Sighard to produce the oak hewn shaft of his spear with a single arm and strike it out towards the head which dared to peer from between the rising pines and cedars. Instinctively the beast drew back into the comfort of it’s own territory, and to prevent being mutilated. For a moment Sighard had believed that the weapon had frightened the creature off, but his naivety failed to account for the burning desire of the creature to feast.

In mere moments from when the creature retracted it reappeared again—this time in mid-air, and with swiftness that the young man had not accounted for. It was all he could to thrust, unevenly and with desperation at the sudden, altered trajectory of the dire wolf so that he could carve a good piece of flesh out of its right shoulder. To Sighard’s dismay he was not the target, and saw the destination of the beast’s fall to be atop Crypt lest he responded with the utmost of haste.

“Damn!”

[Crypt]

The Drykas and the Strider both stiffened at the disturbing growl of the creature currently looking for sustenance. Crypt continued to move around, never staying in one spot to prevent himself from being an easy target. “Damn, look at the size o' that thing...”Crypt muttered appreciatively, “'Twill make a nice fur cloak once we're done with this beast - without too many injuries, we pray.” Crypt's nose twitched as he scented the stench of flesh, still warm and bloody, emanating from the gaping, drooling maw of the dire wolf. Sighard was doing fine with his spear - deterring the wolf from attacking for a few moments - but all that went to hell as the wolf lunged at them. “Ahh... Petch.” Unable to move out of the way of the giant mass headed towards him, Crypt dropped to the ground and rolled to the right, heaving his small steel shield and guarding most of his torso, while slashing at the approaching gargantuan wolf with his longsword in his left hand. The lupine beast landed partly on Crypt, its talons creating shallow grooves in the shield, its massive bulk crushing Crypt underneath him. Using the Flux for the first time that day, Crypt managed to only prevent the wolf from flattening him against the ground, but both were at a stalemate. The Drykas started to hack at its face, managing a few gashes before the afflicted wolf leapt back due to the pain, allowing Crypt to get back on his feet (albeit more slowly).

[Sighard]

Though the prospect of a few slashes by Crpyt, both upwards against the force of gravity and contested by a heaving mass snapping it''s bloody maw dangerously close to his his features, being sufficient enough to drive the dire wolf from it's prey was not terrible, it only told half the story. It drew upon the perspective of a man desperate to save himself and so considerably narrowed his external perception, namely the equally desperate efforts of the squire to do damage control. Sighard likened the situation to one not too far in the distant past, in a tussel with Yukmen that nearly took his life were it not for the resilience of an Akalak he'd not seen for a long while. Though he had yet to exude the same brutality in his combat, there was no lack of trying.

Timing was key, though mobility was not something that came easily to Sighard in the bulk of his armor, even after having years of training in it. His sprint was more akin to a leisurely jog, and the only saving grace was the long length of his oak shafted spear, which, drawn back given the flexing of his elbow, was then thrust forth with considerably at the now wide open stomach of the wolf so that, driven with the momentum of the heavy squire, would tear easily into the belly of the creature. A plume of blood exploded outwards as a gash opened and the creature responded by tearing itself off of Crypt and subsequently tearing the head out of it's stomach, although the resulting action further opened the now bleeding hole.

"It's weak now let's--" Fiery words were extinguished by the bone-chilling howl of the dire wolf which had then bounded back into the woods, a trail of syrupy red a clear marker of it's path. Though a hunter may have bounded upon the opportunity, Sighard knew the danger of the situation would develop ten-fold if they were to push deeper into the woods. "Let's head out, -now-. He's just called his friends, and I'm not about to stick around to find out if they've been turned as he as."

Sighard did not wait to see if Crypt would respond to mount, and he was upon his steed within seconds of his advisement. He turned to see if his new acquaintance had the same sense as him.

[Crypt]

“Good blow there.” Crypt watched as the dire wolf fled into the depths of the Bronze Woods, a grim smile now on his countenance. “Nay, this beastie has neither friends nor family - its absurd size belies its equally monstrous appetite - the dire wolves will not mingle with their smaller cousins, and a wolf pack consisting solely of dire wolves would be unable to sustain itself, even if it were to roam the entirety of the Bronze Woods. Still, there may be... others out there. Breaks my heart to leave so fine a prey out there though. Away, then.” Crypt whistled one sharp note, and in response, Maras galloped to his side. Leaping onto the Strider's back and the Yvas gracefully, the duo moved off towards Sighard.

[Sighard]

In the end there was but blood and cold, and a burgeoning silence broken only by the trot of hooves as they worked along the winding, bitter trail. Through crunching leaves and twigs the two processed their way through, guided only by the pale light of moon and the crimson glow of a torch carried precariously outwards in front. There could have been no better outcome for the two that night, given what a howl of that magnitude could have produced. Sighard knew such noises drew the curiosity of the more daring predators and that scent of blood—which fell heavily upon the injured dire wolf marked it as prey for some of the bolder and more desperate wildlife out there.

“The woods have been this way ever since the Djed storm ravaged our lands two seasons ago. Wolves such as that were not so common. . .”

For a moment the thought hung in the air, suspended on the precipices of the young man’s throat which shuddered and then continued.

“I must, although begrudgingly, offer my thanks for your assistance, Crypt. It’s very likely I would have perished fending off that beast by myself.”

Sincerity was evident in the squire’s strained tones. He turned a sharp corner against the trail and galloped lightly out a few feet, smiling as he broke into free air and open road. There was sight of the stronghold off in the distance and a procession of flickering torchlights along the main road painted it a deep orange. We are safe now.

[Crypt]

“Aye. I was near Konti Isle when the Djed Storms begun, and it was only by hiding in a deep cave with Maras that I was able to survive the onslaught.” As the imposing figure of the walls of Syliras drew nearer, Crypt smiled faintly, drawing a waterskin from his backpack and taking a swig. Placing it back, he turned back to the darkened Bronze Woods, almost being able to see the wounded dire wolf being torn apart by a few others. “The same to you, friend. It is... possible that I would have been able to fend off the monstrous beast single-handedly, but I would most probably have bled to death a mile or two away from Syliras.”