A Long Way From Home (Nya, Abashai)

[Nya Winters]

Abashai was right. There was a surreal atmosphere penetrating the clearing that made everything seem like a dream. Nya stood, her flesh whole, her feet bare, in a flower petal strewn clearing and suddenly started to shake. She wasn't sure why she was shaking. There wasn't anything physically wrong with her. But she clenched her teeth together for they chattered as the trembling filled her limbs. It was nothing like she'd ever experienced before, and it took her completely unaware. Her green eyes widened, and she shook even harder until Abashai moved and suddenly his warm hand was offered. She reached out, grabbing it as if it was an anchor and let him pull her into a hug. Nya didn't say anything, because she was too busy trying to figure out what in the world was wrong with her. Had Rhysol poisoned them after all? Nya didn't care that he was covered in his own blood. She was in no better shape with her long hair matted and her skin smeared with mud and gore. His warmth and scent infused her and slowly she stopped trembling. It took her longer to unclench her teeth and relax them enough to open her mouth and truly breath.

Abashai's hand on her hair, stroking her head, helped. His cheek against hers chased the rest of the shuddering away. Nya drew in his expelled breath, holding it within her for a moment, then releasing it pausing and drawing another deep breath. It was the scent more than the voice that calmed her and slowly she turned her head to look up at him. He was so tall, she thought absently, as she reached up to touch his matted black hair. She hated the blood in it, wanting the soft silky curls to bounce free like expensive satin. When he spoke, she leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek, more for her own comfort than his. There was such calm in the moment, and she savored it, knowing it would not last.

His words washed over her and she nodded. Her mother used to hold her, normally after she'd gotten done stitching up some wound or another she'd gotten either hunting game to big for her or fighting with another cat and would tell her she loved her in the same gentle way. Nya smiled at the memory, nuzzled Abashai's cheek again, then pressed her forehead to his chin. Her mother had to tell her such things, for Zilvia and Nya hadn't the bond Abashai and Nya did. "I know. I feel it through the bond. You do not have to say such things... things that are hard for you. I know. Just as you should know my feelings too. It can't tell lies between us." Nya said softly with a broken voice, all the boldness leached out and busy breathing in his scent, exhaling it, and keeping herself calm. She stood quietly with him for only a moment before her eyes widened, and she coughed. Abashai had the scent of jasmine all over his body.

Nya pulled out of his arms and glanced around. There was a waterskin on the fallen female solider and the kelvic swirled, bent, and pulled it free. She hissed slightly, uncapped it, and began dumping the water on Abashai's shoulders and chest, scrubbing at his form. Her eyes were wide, frantic, and slightly enraged. "He touched you. Gods he touched you.... he touched me too... " Nya hissed and continued scrubbing at Abashai's clothing, the bloody rends, and where the God of Chaos had healed his wounds. It was a storm of madness because she dumped the remainder of the contents over her own shoulders and chest, and began scrubbing frantically at herself as well. "Off... we have to wash it off." She said, eyes wide, her whole body shaking again. She grabbed his hand again and tugged him, dragging him back down the path out of the clearing, past the temple, and too the stream behind the large pavilion. Nya released his hand. She waded into the stream, knelt down, and began using the sand at the bottom to scrub at her skin until there was no more blood on her. She knelt down and dunked her head down under the water and scrubbed sand into it too... washing away the jasmine scent and the smell of Calinthar.

She washed a long time, frantically, though she never once glanced away from Abashai for more than an instant to either rinse something off or to make sure a surface was clean. It was a crazyness... a madness... but she needed to do it. Nya was wearing so much blood that the water actually turned red for a while until the current stole the tainted waters away. When she was done, and there was absolutely no blood left, she rose, her skin pink and slightly abraded from the roughness of the sand.

Then she started on him.

She didn't stop until his clothing was dripping wet but most of the fresh blood was gone. If he protested, she'd ignore it and keep scrubbing. And when she did finally stop, she was crying softly. Nya had never cried to Abashai's knowledge, and even now as she blinked away tears and seemed to come back to herself, she looked slightly confused - both at what she'd just been doing to both of them, and to the warm salty trails tracing slow lines down her cheeks.

She started to say something, but instead brushed the back of her hand across her cheeks instead. Then she drew in a ragged breath, expelled it after a moment, and glanced up the bank at the rather large multiple room pavilion that stood proudly on the streams shores. It looked a lot like the Benshira tents Abashai had told her about - or she at least imagined it did. She stared at it so long he might have thought she was going to loose it again, but instead she said something perhaps wholly unexpected.

Her voice sounded better, stronger, more like herself - as if the water had done more than cleanse the blood away. She turned and looked at him, then gestured back up at the pavilion. There was a slow smile on her face. Her moss green eyes glowed with pleasure as she met his blue-green gaze.

"You are no longer tentless. It's a fine large pavilion. It will hold a large family - as many as you want when you finally decide to find a benshira wife and start one. I do not know how to take it down, but the carriage will hold it, if you'll help me. There are other tents here too, the horses, a lot of things, even a jeweled dagger that will buy a place in Syliras to live - maybe even in the castle. They are dead. They won't need them. Others will, and we can help a lot of people with these things. We should take it all, sell or give away what we don't want or need. It will just go to waste here." Nya said, and although she was tired - exhausted really - she knew they needed to do this. "Will you go bring the carriage back to here and gather up the rest of the horses... I... not the toothed one that the God touched. It's not a horse like I've ever seen. Get the crossbow first, and don't look the horse in the eye. If it gives you any problem, shoot it through the head with a bolt." She said softly, having never really ordered Abashai around before. This was something new, something stronger... strange, but not perhaps unexpected.

"I'll bring the bodies. We should search them and then burn them. They might have things on them that are dangerous if we leave them. These men were evil... very evil." Nya said, then shifted her shape, trotting off back down into the clearing as the forest cat, a form she knew she could easily drag the bodies together using. She did, piling them at the entrance to the temple on the stone itself where she shifted again and looted them for anything that looked off or valuable. She also retrieved the dagger from within its dark confines, careful not to otherwise disturb it. She fetched a lamp filled with oil from the large pavilion and dosed the corpses with it, leaving them unlit until they were ready to leave. Then she helped Abashai break down the camp, gather up the contents and either load it onto the carriage or onto the riding horses themselves that could be tethered to the back of the carriage. It wasn't stealing, not to Nya's view, because they'd fought and earned the right to take what the soldiers left behind because the soldiers were going to take something even more important from them; their lives.

The last thing she'd do when they got ready to leave was light the bodies on fire. Leaving them on the stone ensured that no forest fire would start and that they'd burn as cleanly as possible. Somewhere in the business of packing up, she'd retrieved the collar and left it laying on top of the stack of bodies, so that it would be put to flame too along with the rest of what she deemed corrupted.

[Gillar]

It was deep into the night hours and with all that they had been through in a rather short amount of time, Nya and Abashai were reaching a point beyond exhaustion. They took some time cleaning themselves and stole a brief moment of rest and reflection on all that had happened. Their encounter with the Ebonstryfe and then with Rhysol was one that few individuals ever experience and live to carry on. What it all meant for the future was something to ponder later as they were not in a place or condition for such things. Nya's plan to gather everything that they could from the camp and the soldier's themselves also took them quite some time. When they were finished, the first signs of daylight were beginning to peak through the forest canopy. They stripped off everything and anything of use from the soldiers which obviously did not include their uniforms. Most of their clothing had been shredded, impossibly stained with blood or otherwise compromised as to make it worthless for much of anything. The tents were intact; including the pavilion and all of the contents therein. Abashai was able to gather the horses and the small coach though the rather foul looking one was no longer there. It was while gathering the horses and the coach that a thought occurred to Abashai; in the vision sent on the wind that Nya used to inform him of what he was up against while searching for her, there had been a total of nine individuals. Nearest Abashai could count, he and Nya had killed eight; Calinthar, Dral, two apprentices and four soldiers. Now with a horse missing and a soldier unaccounted for, it was clear that at least one other person must have survived the encounter. In all, the spoils were quite impressive. They were able to salvage two suits of black brigandine armor baring the symbol of the Ebonstryfe, four daggers (two of which bare a white circle with black suns in the center), one light crossbow with a pouch of 10 bolts, two special leg harnesses each holding three hand-axes balanced for throwing, a tulwar (heavy-ended sabre), a composite short-bow with a quiver of 20 arrows, a simple short-sword, weapon harnesses for all of the weapons, seven one-person tents, one four-person supply tent, one pavilion tent capable of lodging eight people comfortable, five back-packs complete with bedrolls, waterskins, flint and steel, a total of 25 days of trail rations, several sets of simple cotton clothing, five whetstones, a deck of cards, two sets of bone dice, two 5-gallon barrels of mead, four 5-gallon barrels of fresh water, five zavian horses (three of which have full tack, blankets, hoods and saddlebags, one four-passenger/two-driver carriage capable of carrying an addition 200lbs of cargo, a simple furniture set including a desk, two chairs, a table and a large body pillow all of average quality, a kneeling-bar covered in black silk, a field healers kit, four 1 ounce vials of black ink and two quills, ten sheets of parchment and a small common book (Calinthar's journal). In addition to the rather large amount of gear and supplies, Nya and Abashai were also able to find a handful of personal effects and jewelry; mostly lower quality. The most valuable and/or unique items found were a jeweled dagger covered in strange symbols with only one being recognizable (a white circle around a black sun), a black heavy mace with shards of glass on the head that seem to regrow after being broken off, a longsword with a white blade made of sharpened ice with the strength of steel and a black cloak that seems to move with a wind that isn't there. A total of 500 gm worth of differing coins were also found; the majority of it in a small iron box on the desk in the pavilion. Abashai, while sorting through things and taking stock of his own gear, discovered a rather odd but familiar looking thing. Although unable to remember if he found it in his gear or the massive collection they had acquired, found a small, fist-sized figurine carved into the likeness of a black and white monkey with large eyes. The figurine was so detailed that it almost looked alive yet it was made of marble. It stood in a rather flamboyant pose with one hand raised in front of its face and the other pointing forward. The hand in front of its face pointed at its own eyes with two fingers while the other hand pointed two fingers out at whoever may be holding and looking at it. Gathering the spoils of the encounter not only took a lot of time but also quite a bit of effort to pack everything down so that it would fit on the horses and on the carriage. The fact that only Nya and Abashai were the ones traveling with all of it, they could load the carriage down quite a bit. Also by tethering the other horses to the carriage and loading them down with gear, they were prepared to head out. Their exhaustion however was almost more than either could bare. While the wounds were healed, they ached fiercely which only added to the drain on the body. If they were to have any chance of making their way to somewhere safe, they would need to leave immediately and pray to their gods that they stay awake long enough. There long, painful yet enlightening experience was not quite over.

[Abashai]

Abashai understood. No longer did he feel the need to seek knowledge about the bonding, to find someone to reveal some secret he should know. It was no longer simply an explanation for the powerful emotional connection that he felt with Nya. It had become a very real bridge between them. Nya was right, he did know how she felt about him, through their bond. And, even though she too could sense how he cared for her, it felt good to speak the words.

When Nya broke their embrace, she suddenly seemed distraught again. But as she splashed the water over the both of them, scrubbing intently with her hands. He did not understand but did not question or intefere. It was obvious that she wanted, no needed, to eliminate any trace of the touch of the Defiler on either of them. As she dragged him to the stream, frantically removed every trace of blood, from their skin, hair, even his clothes. Every spot the god touched she abraded till she was satisfied that they were purified. He felt her panic, her fear that the corruption of the Dark One would linger on them, pollute them. So he let her cleanse him, care for him. He saw the tears well in her eyes, a few tumbled down her cheek. He stood silent, hurting for her, lightly brushed the tears from her cheek.

The powerful cat regained her composure. The familiar smile and brightness in her green eyes returned, and her quick mind saw the opportunity before them. She said he was no longer tentless. Indeed, he did not consider himself so. Not because he now had a tent fit for a family. No, to a benshiran, having a Tent meant having a family. He had family, even if it was only he and Nya and their horse. As far as finding a benshiran wife, well, there were complications that he would need to explain to Nya.

Abashai smiled as she laid out a plan and agreed that they had rights to the possessions of Rhysol's followers. When she asked him to get the horses and carriage, he simply nodded, playfully mussed her drenched hair with his hand and headed off to wrangle the horses and the carriage to the pavillion site.

Abashai returned shortly with the coach and horses in tow. Once the forest cat returned from collecting the bodies, he turned to her with a look of concern. "Ny, I think one got away. I don't know if you remember how many there were, but I saw..." He hesitated, not sure exactly how the wind-born vision reached him, "in the vision sent to me, nine of them altogether, I can only account for eight, and the armored horse is gone too." If it were true that one of the Ebonstryfe escaped, it would bode ill for them. Word of the defeat here would reach others of their kind. "I suggest we pack quickly and leave as soon as we can. Can you guide us back to the cave?" It was closer and more secluded than Syiras, and nothing sounded better to Abashai at that moment than to curl up with Nya on their pile of furs and sleep for a very long time. Then they could go through their take and decide what to do with all of it.

Once the completed the task of packing their spoils, Abashai leaned wearily against the wagon, his joints aching. His hand reached into his coat pocket, pulling out the small figurine of the monkey. He had no doubt that it was Rencil. It unnerved him to some extent. Part of him wanted to get rid of it, he didn't understand what it was or where it came from. He also felt obligated to keep it, a reminder that the strange creature had, in a sense, saved his life. He let it fall back into his pocket.

After making sure the spare horses were tethered securely behind the coach, Abashai picked up his khopesh, the compound bow that they had found with the soldiers, a quiver of arrows and tossed them up onto the driver's seat. Looking at his bondmate, he smiled weakly. "You look as tired as I feel, will you ride next to me?" He knew the kelvic may prefer to travel in her forest cat shape, but he was worried that, as exhausted as they were, she would not have the strength to make the journey and face any other dangers that may await them. Of course, he would leave that up to his guardian. "But first, I think its time to light the fire."

[Nya Winters]

By the time the camp was truly broken up, Nya didn't have any energy left. In fact, she couldn't remember a time when she had been more exhausted. But there was something else she needed to do before they left. She slipped away to revisit the pit trap, carefully sliding down inside of it, this time in a controlled climb rather than a headlong fall. She took a few moments to fill piece of cloth with the gummy substance that coated the sharpened sticks. Nya took enough to fill the cloth, an equivalent of a vile full of the foul stuff. Then she returned to the carriage to finish helping Abashai. She leaned against the carriage wheel as Abashai loaded up the rest of the gear, and simply nodded when he suggested it was time to light the fire. She pulled on the silk robe she'd used before - one that belonged to Calinthar - as she said goodbye to the clearing, thankful once more that Abashai had come for her. Nya was glad he was there, and only watched as he lit the fire and then awkwardly scrambled up onto the carriage seat beside Abashai. Nya knew nothing about driving horses and studied the traces with confusion as Abashai picked them up and urged the party to head out.

Flames licked the sky, illuminating off the black stone, fueled by the lantern oil she'd thrown over the bodies. Nya curled up on the seat beside Abashai, leaning her head against his shoulder and staring straight ahead in a daze. She wanted to say a dozen things, but her mind wouldn't organize enough to gather her thoughts to really explain all the things she wanted to tell him. "I... can we go to the cave tonight? It's safe there... warm. I want to stretch out on our furs and sleep for days." She said softly, knowing it would take Abashai a little while to drive that far down the mountain and then back up to the cave. But she didn't want to face town... she couldn't.

But rather than curl up and nap against his warm strong side like she really wanted too, Nya started speaking. Her voice was quiet, subdued, as if she was still slightly dazed by what had just happened to them.

"I wasn't doing anything unusual. I was just patrolling our territory. Its ours... we have to patrol it to keep it. I've leaped over that log a hundred times. This time... was different." Her voice was drawn out, growing softer and softer. "There was no ground where there should have been some. There were branches and leaves, but the ground was gone. There was a pit instead, a deep one. I fell through, and there were sharpened sticks. They were coated with something. They knew I was coming. I'm not sure how. Tracks maybe, or my scratchings and scent markers. As I fell through, it hurt me badly. The stuff... this stuff...." Nya said, taking the cloth filled with the gummy substance out of her robe's pocket and slipping it into Abashai's overcoat pocket. "It made me change from cat to woman to cat to woman over and over again until I hurt so bad and was so tired I could not hardly move." Nya said, sighing softly and shuddering slightly. "You keep that. Use it if another kelvic ever threatens you, or even if I do. It will protect you." She sighed softly. "That is how they caught me. I didn't know such things existed in the world. I've never seen them before. I will be... more careful." Nya said, pressing closer against him, shuddering once more.

"Thank you for coming. If you hadn't, and they hadn't been stupid, our lives would have both changed drastically. I do not want change. Not now... I like this, us... to much. I... haven't told you everything, Abashai. We need to talk, about many things, dangerous things... because it is wrong to keep secrets from you. And there are things I should be doing in this world, but I cannot without help. I... I'm too tired to think... to talk... but after we sleep... can we talk? Or soon... when you are ready to hear?" Nya asked, yawning in the middle of her sentence, half falling asleep on the seat. She was in no shape for a serious talk, no shape at all. And she was being honest about sleeping for days. She knew she would, as soon as they got somewhere safe. In fact, she didn't even last that long. The young kelvic drifted off moments later, unable to keep her eyes open any longer even with all the bouncing the carriage was doing down the abandoned overgrown road.

[Gillar]

The two left the ruins and the newly-formed chaos shrine and made there way down the forgotten path and back to the familiar seclusion of the cave. Although what they just went through was not so far behind them both in presence and in memory, the journey home was quite unremarkable although a short distance away from the shrine, something notable did occur; the sounds of the forest returned. ---------------------------------------------------------------- His entire unit had been wiped out. The beast-woman and the human barbarian had escaped and looted the camp. The bodies of his friends and fellow soldier's were little more than a smoldering pile of charred bone and ash when Soldier Mael returned to the site. His patrol route kept him some distance away when the fighting originally broke out and he returned shortly after it ended. He found the bodies of his other two comrades further away which had led him back to camp quicker than expected. He did not witness the arrival of Rhysol but showed up just in time to find Dral's horse, Malfeas, roaming about the clearing with the other horses. It was Malfeas that saw Mael and approached him casually. Malfeas was a Ravok Bloodbane; a breed of horse bred for its loyalty to its rider and its taste for living flesh and blood and not one to casually approach anyone save for its rider. Mael marveled at the fact that Malfeas approached and lowered its head to him. He took the reins in hand and cautiously climbed on Malfeas' back. He and the horse heard sounds of someone approaching and they quickly made there way from the clearing, further into the forest to wait. Mael was not about to make the mistake of tangling with anyone capable of bringing down the others in his unit especially when he was the only one left. He waited until Nya and Abashai had left before returning. He stirred the smoldering remains of his unit with his foot before heading over to the newly formed shrine. At least in death, his unit had succeeded in their mission. As he stepped through the doorway and entered the shrine, he could feel the power of Rhysol throbbing through every inch of the walls and floor. He stood in front of the morbid, one-armed statue of Calinthar; frozen in stone, kneeling with his one arm raised, the black orb held to the open-roof and sky above. Mael reached out and touched the orb. As soon as his hand made contact with smooth marble surface, Mael felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a familiar voice, "Soldier Mael, it is good to see you again." Mael turned to see a figure dressed in long, hooded, heavy black robes. In the opening of the hood, Mael saw a moving, twisting mass of eyes, ears, noses and teeth. As he watched, the undulating features slowly solidified into a familiar face albeit with burning, red eyes. It was guardian of the shrine, the one who gave his life and soul for its creation. It was Calinthar.

Amazing thread; I am happy to have been a part of it! Nya and Abashai, there was great risk and great reward and there were a few times where I was afraid I would have to kill you both; I am glad I didn't I think the story that was created here was great as was character development. So in addition to the item rewards, I am granting the following Experience Awards + Other: Abashai - Swords (Kopesh) 5 pts, Shortbow 2 pts, Wilderness Survival 3 pts + Storyteller Secrets that I will PM you with shortly. Nya - Hypnotism 2 pts, Unarmed Combat 4 pts, Wilderness Survival 2 pt, Interrogation 2 pts + Storyteller Secrets that I will PM you with shortly. Again, great job and I look forward to future threads with you both.