PM to join [Outside Ravok] Too Far From Home (Venser)

[Kaie]

6th day of Winter, 513 AV

The wilderness. It was an environment so ominous and yet so comforting to the belligerent woman. Though she'd had her fair share of vicious Ravokian wolves and bandits alike, she did not fear it. In fact she found it was far more to her liking than even the most comfortable bed in Syliras. Out there she was free, liberated from the authority of the barbarian cities. She was her own master and she bent her knees to none but Myri when she called. Yet there was always work to be done when travelling with a caravan.

"Ay! Myrian! Why don't you see what sits east of us?" The leader called toward her in his gruff voice. Kaie turned around on her saddle to find the voice and nodded at him stiffly.

Guess he wasn't petchin' kidding.

Ever since their shaky mission on their journey to the Lake City, the guy was all over with jobs like these. He trusted her for one reason or another. Perhaps it was her careful eyes or her quick work on the battlefield. Whatever it was, it was clear he had her pinned as their designated scout for the trip back. At least it beat some of the other grunt work.

"I expect a warm fire to come back to," Kaie shouted back in jest, yanking the reigns of her black steed eastward.

"You better hope so. You've got first watch."

"Yeah, alright. Petch you, Trent!"


....................................................Several Bells Later.................................................

"Just a bunch of petchin' trees," Kaie murmured to no one in particular in her native tongue, eyes constantly scanning about her surroundings. It was just as she suspected. Nothing but wood and the stomping of snow beneath her horse's hooves. Occasionally there was the panicked scamper of a rodent up a tree or into a hole, but other than that, the forest was awfully quiet. "Alright. Let's ride another mile. Then we'll call it a day," She offer back in Common to her mount in a monotonous voice. Goddess, how long had it been since she had any excitement?

[Venser Rush]

It had been a nightmare persuading the ferryman to take him outside of Ravok. Several chimes of heated altercation that circled endlessly in the concern, a false one at that, regarding Venser's safety. Yes, the boy's left arm was bandaged and suspended by a sling. Yes, his other arm was wrapped as well. That meant nothing. Venser had used the morning wisely, replacing the shirt that he had torn to stem his bleeding the night before, then he had sought out healing treatments. It was fortunate, that he, unlike his brother, was not worried about his reputation. The Black Sun sponsored the Healing Hand, where he had gone in order to seek treatment. Simple bandages and herbs meant to staunch the bleeding were applied, and Venser was done with it. When asked how the young man injured himself, he told them the truth. I fell off the bridge, right? That's the truth. As close to it as he would tell, at the least. The knowledge that Venser was a mage was limited to only two people, his brother and the slave that had saved his life yesterday evening. But even she didn't know about the Flux. The magic she had learned about was the very reason he was risking himself on this journey outside of the city. The cause of his outward exploration. Bones. He needed to begin furthering his craft again, the art of Malediction had become stagnant for young Venser, unable to be explored since families in Ravok had either begun taking better care of their pets, or stopped having them. It had not always been that way, but after an incident several years prior, where a dog was found lacking a jaw bone, the caution had ensued. Strays were rare in the lake-bound city, most simply thrown into the lake itself. Venser considered this as he looked upon the glaring bed of water, shining its radiant face upon those in the ferry. The exact same face had been his nemesis the previous evening, pulling him in with its aesthetic seduction, nearly killing him in Venser's own distraction. Never again will I be such a fool, the Maledicter promised himself. Venser's thoughts would, in the next four bells of ferrying towards Lakeshore, revolve around the tasks ahead. Clenching his left fist, the young man was also to test the strength of his limb, not intent just yet to unravel the sling, though he loosened the knot tying the material to the back of his neck. Venser knew that the lands outside of the cities were dangerous. He was going to, at the least, be prepared. ~The scene changes, four bells passing as the sun marks its trail across the azure sky. The ferry steers into its docking area, a number of people exiting the ferry. The ferry begins preparations for its return trip as Venser Rush collects his thoughts.~ After finally arriving at his destination, Venser was, in truth, at a loss. His journey had begun later than expected, both the treatment and the search for supplies that he needed, namely a shirt to cover his body, rolled bandages lest his need to replace his dressings arose, and approximately four ounces of Heldrog, which he would consume when he was in a calm area and in need of relief. The need for some sort of relaxant was tantamount, after all.The Maledicter was to pass the Lakeshore Stables without a thought, deciding that it was finally time to unravel his sling, in the event that he needed to defend himself. In truth, Venser was excited to face the possbility of danger. His life in Ravok was far too calm, especially considering the amount of fights that broke out within the city itself. Verin would worry if I was in a fight. He just doesn't... know. Alas, the Flux only aided him if he was in danger, or if he implemented his use of the daggers that were placed at his sides, clipped onto his belt. I need a guide... The young Maledicter knew that much, at least. With a severe lack of insight regarding travel, and lacking the skills to survive in the wild, Venser would either need to wait until early morning, when he had eaten and could last the day searching, or seek out companionship.I'll keep my eyes open. There has to be someone.

[Kaie]

The chestnut stallion gave a short snort of irritation, its hooves still pounding away carelessly upon the small layer of fresh powder. The sound of compacting snow, however little of it there was, made the Myrian a bit uneasy. She was never one to be very stealthy, but such loud announcements of her presence were not favorable. When it wasn't the wolves, it was the Balicani hunting her. The few times she managed to navigate the forest without any beasts interrupting her, a (more or less) human often became her newest threat. And let her not forget the constant state of caution one should possess whenever braving the elements.

Kaie halted her mount suddenly with a tug of the reigns. Within a moment, the Myrian had slipped from the saddle to land gently on her feet, a hand always on the handle of her gladius. As she approached the trail that had caught her eye during her leisure ride, she became more aware of her surroundings. Birds chirping here and there to one another in the trees. A gentle scuttle of chipmunks retreating back into their recently dug holes for the season. Even the scratching of branches against one another was enough to catch the savage's attention. Yet as she crouched beside the clear trail, the Myrian's agenda quickly changed.

Tracks. Rabbit tracks actually. Recent, too. And the bent of the thickets there. This trail is often used...

The woman crouched there for some time, finger dipping into the tracks absently as she thought. The opportunity was too good to be honest, far too good. Any day before her departure and she would've hung around for some hunting for bells at a time. Sure, Trent would be expecting her back, but he was well aware the Myrian wasn't one to be forced into punctuality out in the wilderness. It simply never worked out for one reason or anything. The world was far too predictable and Lhex always had his own schemes to carry out. Besides, if she was right about this one, a snare would catch something relatively soon. She could find something to do in the meantime.

"What do you think? We have some more looks around after I bait a snare? Might as well have something to show for the trip, no?" She inquired to none but her horse in a tongue it had never heard, rising again to her feet. It stamped its feet impatiently, earning a quiet laugh from the woman before she set off to work.

With a sharp snap of wood, a medium sized Y-shaped branch was torn from a tree. With the wire she had left, Kaie anchored it off so it sat up right over the trail. Then after she used her Kukri to peel back some slits of bark from the wood, pine needles stuck in the slots to hold a looped piece of wire in the center of the Y. All in all, the snare was decent for an amateur. It didn't stick out too much from the rest of the thickets anyway. All she could do then was wait somewhere else and hope she caught something soon. Syna would be ducking out soon, and the last thing she wanted was to be caught out alone in the cold to come. Not in these woods.

Kaie paced away with her horse in tow, its feet still stomping with pride along the earth. Within a chime or so she had reached a place fit to linger in. A couple moments to gather wood and a couple clicks of her flint and steel, and she had a small fire going. All there for her to do then was sit upon a nearby fallen tree and wait.

[Venser Rush]

Wonderment set about into engraving its presence into the Rush twin's mind as he cast his gaze about. In the distance, the gleaming reflection of the Lake, and even further out, hints of Ravok could be seen over the horizon. The sheer distance was incredible, the solitude that was the wild impacting upon the young man as a grin materialized upon his expression. He felt unchained, so... free. He loved it out here, for the moment, at the least, for he was both undisturbed and liberated. A laugh escaped the human's lips as he clenched his fists. He decided that the moment was right for him to try something. In the distance, he heard the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves against the movement of the wind. The compacting of snow under his boots as he stepped. It was so peaceful... It likely will not stay that way for long, Venser. Keep your ears open if your eyes are to be closed for this. Venser stopped moving altogether, a deep breath filling his lungs as he relaxed, coaxing for the djed pathways within his body to open, the connection between body and soul unlocked as the young mage moved his arms. He stood with legs shoulder width apart, his hands raised to approximately rib-level, palms open. Afterwards, as he felt the djed begin to pool within his body, his hands lowered, a gesture to cement the physical action of pushing his djed from his center and downward, to his legs. He felt it as the energy began to collect in his muscles, Venser's eyes opening as he stepped forward. A brisk, walking pace was adopted for several moments before he advanced into a jog, the djed still unused, though this changed entirely as he adopted a sprint. The muscles in his legs felt numb as the djed pulsed through them, the lactic acid burn as his arms pumped felt, but his legs were nearly unaffected. Time's movement seemed to slow as adrenaline pumped through Venser's body, his eyes wide as he ran, nearly unaffected by the burn as wind buffeted his face. The world was passed by as he continued his sprint, stopping only when he noticed a full clearing in the trees. He was not aware of how much time had passed in his time running, but surely it had not been too long. Even with the Flux on his side, he had not invested a significant enough amount of djed on the simple act of running to push his speed or sensual perception to any superhuman degree. To do such a thing is a greater danger than it is worth. Travel does not warrant an injury. As Venser stopped to take another breath, coaxing the remaining, unspent djed within his legs and spurring it to travel upwards through his body, his eyes remained open, a ready gaze cast in the hopes of finding something of interest. His focus dividing itself among an inspection of his surroundings and the travel of his djed, neither were done to their fullest extent. The travel of djed was sluggish, taking nearly an entire chime to simply travel from his legs, leaving behind a painful tingling, the lactic acid build-up that had been ignored taking effect as Venser closed a single eye in his pain. He shook the sensation away, moving his legs in order to promote blood flow. When the motion was complete, Venser focused completely on the movement of his djed. It traveled sluggishly still, centered at his stomach. Be... extremely careful. If the djed spikes here, you can find yourself in quite a bit of trouble, Venser. The Mage willed the travel to quicken its pace, the energy moving through the framework of its musculature when it spiked. The young man gritted his teeth as minor tearing of his abdomen occurred, though the pain was set aside. In fifteen ticks, the djed pooled in his arms, Venser's hands moving to the clips on his belt, where he took his punch daggers, decidedly entering the wooded area after. Seven chimes of walking passed, aimless wandering in his own, disappointed opinion, before he caught on to to what sounded like the voice of a woman. The language spoken was unfamiliar to him, curiosity rising in Venser's mind as he sought to hear a response, to gauge how many people were around. If it was more than one, there was likely a danger. Though, even just one could be dangerous in itself. He shook his head, listening closely, but heard nothing for the stamping of... That didn't sound like feet. What's going on? Venser was utterly confounded as he stepped forward in an attempt to follow the woman and... whatever was with her, following by the sound of their steps, loud enough due to his close proximity, yet he could only catch a glimpse of the woman in the odd angle of his approach. It was only when he heard them stop that he could see both the woman and her creature, astonishment present in Venser's expression. In truth, he had no idea what the creature was, though he had been in a similar creature's presence several times in the carriages to Syliras. His father had never told him what it was called, and it seemed pointless to ask at that moment. SNAP. Twigs cracked beneath Venser's feet as he took a misstep, the young man firing off a string of swears in his mind. What the petch are you doing, you gods-damned mental case. What sort of bleeding imbecile can you be to not watch where you're stepping?! Venser could only wait and see what the reaction was to be, preparing himself for the need to run.

[Kaie]

The Myrian snapped her head to the sound, hand shooting down to the handle of her gladius immediately. Deep amber eyes glared into the forest in the direction the sound had originated. At first there was nothing but silence. An absolute pause as if the wilderness itself was holding its breath. The woman was not fooled. The sound of breaking twigs usually signaled either a harmless presence or a potential threat. As a native of Falyndar, Kaie knew it was best to anticipate a worst case scenario where the forest was concerned. And so when not even a whisper nor another snap teased at her carefully listening ears, she knew something was amiss.

The bronzed savage wasted no further time finding her feet and quietly removing her gladius from its casing. Slow and deliberate steps brought her closer from the snap's origin, but she was sure to keep her distance. When she did finally stop, her wary eyes scanned the foliage once more for whatever might've made the noise. Again, she initially saw nothing. Unwilling to continue further into a potential surprise attack, she switched tactics.

"I know you're there...Come out. Slow," She called out in Common to the trees, eyes narrowing in distrust as if guessing where a stranger might emerge. Then she backed up toward her back shift camp, her horse snuffling from where it laid on the ground. And as the Myrian stood there, muscles tense and gladius held defensively before her, she waited for some response if any would come at all.

[Venser Rush]

I'm such a fool. This woman's in the wild, and by the looks of her creature, she is quite comfortable in this setting... Already I'm at a disadvantage... At the very least, she had not tried to strike out at him or flee immediately. This proved that the humanoid was, at the very least, sentient. Sentient beings tend to find a reason for having to injure others. Perhaps showing himself was the prudent option. It was best to follow the woman's demand. At the very least, from closer by, he had the opportunity to negotiate with the being, perhaps even arrange a peaceful solution to this. He had, after all, only made a noise. From her perspective, he was the likely predator. Not her. The Maledictor stepped forward, raising his hands to shoulder level to demonstrate that he did not mean harm. On the clips of his belt, two punch daggers could be seen, held to his waist by the grips. Each blade was little more than three inches long, the blades rather shiny, showing to the observant that they had not often been used. Venser was caught off guard by the being's beauty, her bronzed skin reflecting the light that leaked through the tapestry of leaves and trees. She exuded a feral sort of ferocity, something that both intrigued and astonished the young man. Fear was overridden by curiosity, "Wow..." he murmured softly as crystalline eyes cast along the woman's form. The sword she held was rather short, much plainer looking than the elaborate handles he saw upon the waists of the Ebonstryfe. But, it was interesting. Most of what he saw was interesting, indeed. "I've never seen you before. I take it that you don't live in Ravok?" Of course, he could be wrong. She could be a hunter, a profession that involved a fair amount of traveling. It was plausible, to be sure. But, doubtful. Venser allowed one last once-over on the woman, noting the blade again. Do hunters carry swords? I don't know if they do... I thought they were the bow and knife sort of people. Either way... she's definitely not from around here. I've yet to see that kind of weapon. Memory usually served the young man well, but in this case, it merely confused him. How could he be entirely sure? He couldn't, just like with the creature that accompanied the woman. She was quickly becoming a source of confusion to him. One of interest, as well. Hopefully she decided not to attack him. It'd be much more interesting to learn about her, instead.

[Kaie]

There seemed to be a long moment of deliberation silently within the trees. Kaie was almost sure the thing would never emerge, leaving her to scour the forest in search of it for her own peace of mind. Such an outcome would have been unfavorable, but potentially necessary. Luckily the newcomer decided to indeed emerge. Upon arrival the Myrian could see he meant no harm. The way his hands were presented told her just that. It was an almost universal gesture for peace and sometimes surrender, which left her with little reason to remain how she was. Slowly she lowered her blade.

His first words to her were ones oddly chosen, but nonetheless they came, and with them came a mirthful grin from the savage. It seemed the barbarians were always taken aback by her mere existence, the strange complexion of her race becoming something real rather than fictitious stories. Yet he questioned her more openly about her citizenship to the nearby city than her heritage. That much she could answer.

"Was doing business with Stryfe. Days ago. Not anymore. Going back toward Cyphrus," She answered honestly, eyeing the curious man with an objective eye. Naturally she was scanning him for weapons, concealed and otherwise. The last thing she wanted was to be jumped by a seemingly calm and harmless Ravokian. Thus far she uncovered little more than a pair of too pristine looking punch daggers. Either they were new or hardly put to good use. The latter give her a bit of an edge. "And you...You don't look like the common forest traveler," She accused lightly, her eyes conveying her perplexity over his sudden appearance from the trees.

[Venser Rush]

At the very least, the woman was not instinctively violent. He had been right about this much. But, rather in gloat to himself about his sense of judgement and the fact that he was, for the moment, safe, he decided to listen to the woman instead. Her sentences were short, rather simplistic in nature, leading Venser to the assumption that Common was not her first language. This, and her attire mixed with the sword and her exotic appearance painted a picture in the Legate's mind.

A foreigner. Not just from Ravok, but from Sylira itself, perhaps? Venser's awareness of the other races was painfully limited, but from all appearances, the woman in his presence was human.

Venser had only met one foreign sub-human in his life time, the sight an extremely rare occurence in the city. Yes, there were the half-Isurs at the Defiled Blade, but they didn't count. Neither did the Kelvics, which Venser had seen once or twice, but was neither able to discern on sight, nor had he seen any change form. Lakeshore and the KRI, up until recently, had been completely out of reach for the younger of the Rush twins.

The man banished the thoughts from his mind, re-focusing his attention onto the woman as she mentioned the 'Stryfe' and her confirmation that she was indeed a foreigner by mentioning Cyphrus. If he remembered correctly, Cyphrus was the region neighbouring Sylira on its western side. To Venser, it was a world away. The farthest he had gone was Syliras, living there for a period of several months. He had no desire to return, but he suspected it was a necessary part of his future. Travel was necessary.

Then, the woman posed her own question... or rather, it was a statement, her tone filled with suspicion. Venser lowered his hands, crystalline eyes directed at the woman, locking with hers in a show of honesty as he replied,

"You're right, in fact. It's one of my first times in the forest, honestly. I had the idea of coming in to the forest to hone a craft that I have struggled to build while in the city."

The information was not specific, but anyone who knew about Ravok knew that within the confines of the city, magical knowledge was limited. Extremely so. It was given grace from the Gods that Venser's father, the bastard that he was, had managed to preserve a book or two, lost now as the house was foreclosed upon, and the Rush twins had monopolized on them while they could.

Venser kept his information vague on purpose, leaving in his tone only hints and the opportunity to question by keeping still. He welcomed the company, in truth. The region outside of Ravok was rife with dangers.

Perhaps, in coming along, I took a risk that was unnecessary... But, she had business with the Ebonstryfe. She can certainly handle herself. Perhaps we can strike an agreement of mutual benefit...

The gears in the Legate's mind began working in earnest, a grin materializing upon his features as he raised his hands again, to portray again that he meant no harm in his sudden inspiration, "I have an idea, actually. You look to be significantly more experienced in...survival, than I. Would you care to assist me? You will be compensated."

[Kaie]

As much as she loved to distrust barbarians, the stranger seemed straight forward. Completely honest, even. Then again the Myrian wouldn't put it past a human, even the friendly Svefra she met long ago, to simply be deceiving her. He was clearly from Ravok after all. The city of the Black Sun and the God of Chaos whose loyalty the public had pledged undyingly. No denizen was worthy of trust, not even the Lazarin from the Stryfe that paid her so handsomely she wouldn't think twice before working with him again. In her amber eyes, they were all nothing but heathens living the in the absence of Myri's light. Still she found herself unable to truly doubt the stranger's story simply by the way he had prepared himself.

"Come all alone, first time in forest...and you bring those?" She scoffed disapprovingly, a finger pointing at his punch daggers. The corner of her lip twitched in amusement at her own revelation. "So..what was your plan if you crossed a pack of Ravokian wolves? Punch them to death?" The savage shook her head at him and arched a brow in a questioning fashion. No doubt his response to that would be amusing. Kaie had had her own encounters with the bloodthirsty wild hounds. Lucky for her, she had two allies to watch her back. Challenging the pack alone would've resulted in a far less cheery ending.

"I guess I could spare some time in that case of...compensation. But I first have to ask. What kind of craft are we talking about?" The bronzed warrior stepped forward then in a far less hostile manner. From what she could tell from her own observations, he had very little reason to assault her out here. If he did indeed need her, caution would only need to come when it was time for that "compensation," whatever that was. Sellswords only tell the occasional tale of employers that double-crossed their guys to avoid payment. She wasn't about to let herself fall into that situation so easily. Besides, there was the chance his craft was blasphemous or distasteful. If he was anything like the man who created fire from his hands, she wanted little to do with anything he was into.
OOCSorry this took a while! I lost my internet spot when I was away from home.

[Venser Rush]

When the woman pointed to his punch daggers, it was made apparent her opinion regarding his thought process. Of course, she was right. Venser had not considered the possibility of encountering a true danger in the forest. Though, there had been no intention to go nearly as far into the forest as he was. It was the woman who had pulled him in with the sounds of her footsteps and that of her strange, four-legged creature. Not that he held a resentment, but there was little he could do now to remedy the situation. Perhaps, however, it could be twisted to be of his, if not both of their benefit. The thought of betrayal had not crossed the young man's mind, his thoughts working towards the goal of advancing the craft than suiting the divine sphere of a God that he did not worship.

A grin materialized upon the Legate's lips as he replied to her, "If it works. If not, then I'd just run the bloody petch in the other direction." He chuckled at the woman before he considered his next words carefully. The craft of Zapatl was one not revered by many. It was considered to be debase, morbid, even. It was neither, for no magic could be considered inherently evil. Zapatl was inherent power, contained. The boy thought of his past works, its curses and lost items with unclear and discarded purpose. But, his true masterwork, at least for the time being, was the jawbone he kept within his room at Tarsin's. The idea is to always advance to something better. This is why I am here today. If I am to die in the process, it only shows that Lord Harameus deems me unworthy to be his Hands. But, seeing as he was sent a guardian, he doubted this was the case.

A chime passed in silence, the young man's closed in a silent prayer to his God before he replied, the first word leaving his lips in a low tone. The three syllables that crafted the word's pronunciation in Nader Canoch were by far his favourite to say, "Zapatl, my new friend. Those who do not dabble in Nader Canoch call it... Malediction. The craft of turning bones into totems of magical design." Of course, Venser left out how powerfully the craft affected him personally, but it was easily observable how it did. The young man's body had relaxed upon utterance of the first word, his mind cleared from the haze of tension and discovery that was his and this stranger's encounter. He seemed renewed. His lips, which had dissolved into a soft smile after his speaking, parted again moments later, "In any case... it's rude to ask a job of you without introducing myself. My name is Venser Rush, my new friend. Will you offer me the grace of learning yours?"

The young man took a step towards the woman, keeping a respectable distance from her before extending his hand, offering her a proper greeting. Crystalline eyes were filled with curiosity, but there was an excited light in them, as well. He wanted this to be done with. He had even brought his toolkit with him, the light assortment of engraver's picks held in his bag. Boneshaping was a discipline he knew to an extent, having experience in the matter, but for the moment, he lacked the tools to expand upon it. In time, he was to buy some.