Closed A Walk in the Woods [Seng, Noven & Garret]

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

Seng's brown eyes moved with the sly motions of Garret's motives, he could place his fingers at the bridge of his nose when he listened to him speak, he'd disposed of a common thug and was now robbing a woman of her freedom, they were mercenaries true yet in Seng's often conflicted mind, this wasn't right. The young woman in front him was captivating, like many woman he'd met on his travels he found himself intrigued with her yet what hot blooded male wouldn't be, the cold was embracing everyone there and her lithe figure trembled more than the mens... The vile bastard the taller desert skinned warrior thought as caught him staring, in that moment his ever stoic features would have burst in laughter as he went back to 'negotiating' with the skinny young woman they'd encountered. He still hadn't gotten an answer to his question and only more questions piled up when he looked at the cart, they'd make a lot of gold rimmed miza out of it yet, morals... It was than that an idea sparked into his head, it was a silly little concept yet he found the idea of finding some to craft it into armour for the wildlands to be intriguing, a warrior adorned in with his hunts and still going. 'Damnit... Cold must be getting to me...' he thought as he hot air left his nostrils and a pounding at the back of his head caused him to speak. "If you listen to this greedy bastard, you'll find yourself walking through hail with a death wish unknowingly" the warrior spat as he rose old matters again, he shot his stern eyes towards the older mercenary before meeting golden eyes with the girl they'd met. "We'll offer you something simpler... If you give us an equal share of these pelts, we'll escort you into Sunberth..." whilst Garret was thinking of making ample pay, Seng had already thought of a plan to make enough money to feed an orphanage. "It's your choice... Unless of course, you'd prefer the pull this thing to Zeltiva alone, liable to being raped, murdered, eaten and even worse" he said, his deep voice returning with a great soothing nature, it almost seemed business-like for Seng at that moment as he weighed the options for this woman before them. It wasn't long before the falling snow began to pick up winds and push slightly viciously to the side, and rustle the trees angrily, whilst standing there to retain his ground the dark skinned man waited for her to speak. At some moment during their wait he found it laughable that they came here seeking a bear and now they were in the snow, at the border of Sunberth, negotiating for wares that weren't even their own... As the wind caught up and struggled with them, Seng's imposing features didn't change even as the snow vengefully battled against his standing self, heavens he was getting cold and she wasn't answer. 'Why're they always so stubborn?' he drearily asked himself as they stood there, waiting...

[Noven]

Nov had taken to looting the dead bodies, tossing various weapons, jewelry, and even stripping them of any useful leathers, belts, and sheaths into a small but growing pile. Everything could be sold in Sunberth. Including your own mother, if you happened to still have one.

The cook listened in mild interest as Garret and Seng took turns reasoning with the newly freed woman. Nov, on the other hand, opted for engaging himself in more practical matters. Like looting, and more looting. He'd taken one good look at the former captive and knew instantly what would be more or less running through the other mercenaries' heads. In different circumstances, he might very well be thinking the same sorts of things, but she had given him lip, and he was hungry.

Noven was not a happy camper when he was hungry.

"Don't care what we end up doing, just make up your minds sometime this season," he grumbled as he threw the last belt and dagger onto the pile of things that no longer belonged to the bandits. "We still have five or so bells before Syna's done for the day. We can make use of that time, or we can waste it."

He stuffed as much as he could into his own pack and hoisted the pile of pelts onto his shoulders. "What's it gonna be, lass?"

[Serta]

Serta jerked back as the fur was thrown at her and pulled a face, holding it away from her body for a moment to give it a quick sniff. Satisfied that there were no fleshy or fatty remains on the underside she wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, putting aside her distaste for warmth and sparring a irritated look for the grumpy skin throwing man. She frowned, folding her arms over her chest and tapping her fingers against her elbow as she listened as the leader spoke. Clearly the Alpha. She thought to herself as she listened impassively, her eyes ghosting over the other two as she tried to figure out there status in conjunction. She wasn't too sure in regards to the quiet man, he looked more interested in going through the thugs belongings than asserting any dominance in the situation. The second was gruff and looked to be fairly moody. Clearly the bottom of the pack. She thought to herself dismissively, still miffed by the skin throwing. I wonder what he'd do if I threw a human skin at him. She wondered, seriously considering it for a moment before finally turning her attention back to the so far one sided conversation.

She bit her lip, considering what the man had said before smiling broadly, pulling her lips back in an effort to show all of her teeth. "Alright." She nodded, "You can have the furs, and in return you will take me to Sunberth and direct me to the nearest inn." She agreed, walking forward to the cart. "And my names Serta by the way, not lass, yours is?" She asked, eyes darting from one to the other, inquisitive now that there was no immediate danger.

[Garret Sawyer]

"The name's Garret" He grunted, not bothering to introduce his comrades as he wandered around the camp, pissed off that he had lost out on a pay day "I would have spilt it three ways as well, so I guess everyone loses out now" Garret thought as he wandered over to the dying thug "I'll deal with this guy, looks like we've stripped anything of value here so we'll head back" he said before kneeling don on the cold, frozen ground and looking at the man.

He was in a bad way, his once tanned, leathered skin was now as white as the snow that continued to fall around him, his wound had darkened and clotted but blood continued to seep from the cuts, running down his stained trousers before melting the snow under him. "Help me... I just need to reach a healer" he begged, his weak voice cracking as his eyes stared pleadingly at him.
"Too late for you mate" Garret replied, he stood up once more, grabbed the thug by his hands and began to drag him away from the clearing "That lump of muscle get's very sensitive about this, probably best I do it in private" he thought as he left a trail of crimson blood behind him.

He leant the man against a large, pine tree roughly fifty yards from the clearing where Noven continued to scavenge from the body and Senghor continued to think with his balls, probably ready to throw away more of their money. He knelt down, bring himself to the thug's eye level as he continued to groan quietly to himself as he bled out.

"I want answers" Garret stated keeping his voice down in case unwanted eyes were prying, staring into the man's fading eyes "If you give them, I'll release you"
"Fine... Fine..." He replied, struggling to speak as he breathed heavily "Whatever you... Want..."
"Where did you get those furs from?
"Caravan came through... no men just women and children... guards had left to go hunting since the snow took 'em by surprise..."
"What did you do with them?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"We killed them... burnt their bodies to keep warm... as soon as the men came back..."
"Okay, I get you. Now, here's the real question, who is that bloody woman?"
"I don't know... Boss found her... Said there was something special about her... We'd be rich if we sold her..."
"What's special about her?!" He demanded, he had never been involved in slaver, well apart from guarding them but this sounded enticing enough for him to start "What is it?!" He demanded, his voice rising as his eyes shone greedily but he got no response, the man had slipped into unconsciousness and he knew that there would be no waking him now, he was tempted to just slit his throat with the dagger still clutched in his frozen, blue hand but decided against it, Dira would claim him soon enough.

"He likes the sound of his own voice" He said, as he strode back into the clearing, looking at the woman suspiciously "He said they stole the furs after butchering the caravan, figures they couldn't prepare something this fine" He picked up the furs by the rope that tied them together and slung them over his shoulder and looked at his fellow mercenaries with a look as if to say "Right, can we go?"

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

To his comrades Seng might have looked as if though he was out of mind, yet within his his head a idea had already began to form, a plan for the future dwelling in his mind whilst he inclined his head towards the older man as he sought to rid their presence of the remaining scumbag. Seng's negotiations worked, yet not the way that his comrades thought, not the way that even Serta would have. The dark skinned man slightly coughed and gathered steam whilst the crackle branches and twigs orchestrated within their area of sound. Turning back towards the woman, "Senghor..." he replied to her earlier question of who they were, there was a pause for a couple of ticks and the only sounds that resounded in the clearing were the sounds of Noven looting and those of Garret barking at the man he'd taken away to murder. For a few ticks, he heard the man hollering yet the no cries of mercy and that caused him to seek inquiry. A sigh slipped from his lips when Garret returned and walked up to the cart, roping a large portion of the pelts and slinging them over his shoulder like Garret had, he turned to look at the shorter and older comrade. "No cries of mercy?, Not your usual style Garret..." he said whilst turning towards the road they came from and trudged forward, at the back of his mind the men followed even though they could choose not too. The silences of the wildlands was deafening before he began to inquire about the girl. "Serta..." his deep voice slipped from his cold lips as he pushed ahead of the rest, "Why were those men accusing you odd those atrocities?, 'less they were true and your tongue is as sliver as this snow is white..."

[Noven]

There she goes again, ungrateful wench, Nov muttered in his own head as the girl insisted her name was Serta, not lass. 'S what I always get for doing women favors. Nothing but lip, and more lip.

"Noven," he replied tersely before returning to their main source of profit. The cook had nudged two separate piles of pelts at his companions with his foot before shouldering his own. While they negotiated with the woman, he'd gone ahead and divided them equally, practicality always at the forefront of his mind. He used a belt that he had looted from one of the bodies to tie his own, but left the others to figure out what to do with their piles.

So, back they went, trudging along with everything they could carry on their backs, and everything they couldn't following in tow. The girl was suspicious, Nov thought, to put it mildly. By all the laws of Mother Nature and Sunberthian thievery, she should be dead. But she wasn't. Scrawny and as bossy and demanding as a woman could be, yes, but not dead.

Seng must have read his mind, because after a few stretches of silence he finally broke the ice with an insinuating question.

Right on the miza, Seng, Noven mentally nodded. Either she got incredibly lucky, or there's something she isn't telling us. And I'm willing to bet she's just as short on luck as the rest of us.

He pricked his ears even as he feigned in difference, wondering how the girl would answer.

[Serta]

"People fear what they do not understand." She growled, repeating what her mother used to tell her "And those idiots did not understand much." Serta glared, looking for a way out of this crappy situation. She didn't want to tell the truth, it usually just complicated things and gave people the impression that because she was part animal they could treat her that way. She pursed her lips in anger, she could see no other option than to tell the truth and hope she could out run them should she need to.

"I'm a Wolf Kelvic." She answered finally, tossing her hair over her shoulder and standing up straight at an attempt at prideful indifference, though her hands clenched nervously at her sides. "I'm part human, part wolf and I can shape-shift to my wolf form or to this form. I suppose some of our qualities make us... valuable to slavers." She finished, eyes narrowing, carefully watching their reactions. If this works out I may be able to get myself so allies... She thought to herself, knowing full well she would need them in Sunberth.

She eyed them all, speaking in a measured, careful manner. "I'll answer any questions you have, but don't expect me to cooperate if you have any plans like the men you just downed. I'll make it hell for you, even if you are able to catch me."

[Garret Sawyer]

"What is so special about her?" He wondered as they negotiated the forest ground, the thought kept on niggling in his mind, after all they had been willing to defend their goods to the grave, never a good sign as far as Garret was concerned, to him nothing was worth dying for and even he had been in love before. "What would a slaver want? Skill possibly, but in what? Was she a skilled killer? Perhaps she's a master craftsman? Could even be an expert seductress, but how could they tell without sampling and she doesn't look like they had her way with her" Garret shook his head in frustration, he didn't like this one bit.

"I'm a Wolf Kelvic." She announced suddenly, her tone prideful with a hint of hostility like she was daring anyone to challenge her because of this fact "I'm part human, part wolf and I can shape-shift to my wolf form or to this form. I suppose some of our qualities make us... valuable to slavers."

"Magic..." Garret thought, grimacing at the very mention of the word, whether his thought was true or not didn't matter to such as man as Garret. Like most things that are seldom understood by the common man or more accurately, the common man with a weapon, it tended to breed distrust and hostility, regardless if the intentions of such things are pure and noble. His right hand unconsciously slipped in between his shirt and coat to grasp the familiar leather bound hilt that always hung by his waist as he eyed the woman, suddenly all very aware of her within their entourage and their distance from civilisation. Had the finest scholars appeared that very moment to tell Garret that he was completely safe he still wouldn't have felt safe with her around, was it particularly strange that he feared such things? After all, in a world full of magic and monsters where did a simple thug like him fit in apart from six feet under?

But part of him became more intrigued, partly out of sheer curiosity that he had tried to repress over the years but mainly for the reason that Garret was always concerned with. It was clear why the leader of the kidnappers must have realised he had struck gold, he had no knowledge of slavery as a business but he had heard run of the mill humans going for over three hundred golden Mizas, so Garret could only imagine what a Kelvic that looked like that would go for. He was tempted to try and talk to Senghor and Noven but he doubted that any of them would go for the idea "Not a good plan, they're too soft for that sort of thing" so he quickly abandoned the thought.

"I'll answer any questions you have, but don't expect me to cooperate if you have any plans like the men you just downed. I'll make it hell for you, even if you are able to catch me."

"What happens to you clothes when you transform?" Was the first question that came to mind by Garret quickly dismissed it, he hated that cheeky voice in his head that constantly kept on making quips and jokes.
"What, in the name of the gods, made you come to this shithole?" He asked instead, it had to be asked as far as Garret was concerned. It had never advertised itself as city of the free and home of the prosperous, yet he could never understand why people bar thieves and thugs flocked to the city by the dozens "Where have you come from that made Sunberth seem like a better life?"

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

Senghor already had mixed about the girl behind him, he saw opportunity yet also saw an impending darkness that would befall them with later association, he didn't know whether it was doubt or intuition yet he knew that like both sides of a miza, it depended on where it fell. With the silence broken and their trudging through the snow as it carried their weight. There was a melodic notion that carried soothingly with the vocals that came from his thick voice, "A wolf kelvic huh?..." Seng wasn't buying it, yet it seemed that Garret sure did and Seng was surprised that the first thing to come out of his mouth wasn't as easily perverted as his sense of killing, he was expecting him to ask her about her clothing. With that thought, Seng inclined his head momentarily before turning back ahead... True, he was intrigued about where she came from and why leave there for Sunberth but he dismissed it for more productive thoughts. 'She's not going to last very long if what she says its true...' he thought whilst ceasing in his walk, adjusting the rope before slowly removing it and turning around to walk towards the young woman. He looked down of her as a warm slip of breath slipped from his nostrils when they flared slightly, inclining his head towards the entire landscape of the borders of the Wildlands... "If what you say is true, than your abilities won't fail you..." he said deeply whilst looking into the Wildlands, "Disappear into the trees and return with whatever game you can hunt... Wolf" In his challenge, Senghor was weaving an story, he was mentally planning ahead and it was happening unknowingly to all of them there besides himself. He was both challenging her words but using them to craft a story for her if they walked into Sunberth and someone could see through her visage... The people there had a ability to sniff out such things, they were more hounds than men when it came to finding people who they dislike. As his golden pools danced within those of the girl's and he didn't even dare blink...

[Noven]

Of all the things Noven had expected, Kelvic was the last of them. It was also far less dire than the possibilities he had been conjuring up in his head, which included dark mage, dark mage, and dark mage.

Hey, one could never be too careful of the darker arts. And with Sunberth being so close to Sahova, it was really only the most practical mindset a non-magic user could adopt.

"Wolf Kelvic, could be useful," he mused aloud, unsure if anyone could even hear him as he dimpled the snow at the back of the group. Ever straightforward, ever practical. If she had survived this long on her own before bumping into trouble, it meant she was competent. He wasn't sure how, or what wolf Kelvics even entailed, other than wolfishness, but that much he could deduce.

If this was Serta's biggest secret, then Seng was right. She wouldn't last a day. They'd seen Kelvics being subdued with shouts and whips plenty enough, shuffling without hope onto or off ships in shackles of slavery. There were special collars for them, Nov knew purely by sight, that kept them from shifting. Brutal was the only way to describe how these beings were caught and sold off.

Little did the cook know just how involved he would be with wolves and slaves in the coming days.

Before he could capitalize on his own comment, however, Seng ordered the girl to disappear into the trees and return with game. Nov almost stopped dead in his tracks at the strange request.

What was his friend up to?