Location [Syliras Location] The Welcome Home

[Rhuryc]

Rhuryc frowned. Despite the happy, disarming atmosphere, he was upset to see the manner in which Stitch had lost his vision. No matter how well his magic allowed him to see, the man could not imagine it was the same. At all. Even if Stitch possessed some other worldly perceptions that allowed him to view the soul Rhuryc imagined the dissatisfaction in his own mind. To rely on some mystical power was not within his character. No matter the convenience. Albeit this did nothing to shake his faith in Stitch, no, it was simply a matter of both pity and perhaps a degree of curiosity. The gears in the back of Rhuryc's mind began to churn. How exactly did that work?

The man sat calmly through the 'viewing process', the name of which he bestowed upon their session. Really, Rhuryc had no idea what was going on. He just stared straight ahead with a quirked brow, his mind trying to figure out just what was happening. He felt nothing. No stab of pain, no tingly feeling on the back of his neck. Had he the capability to listen to his soul he thought that there might have been some kind of communion, a pleasant exchange of morals maybe, but back in the realm of reality Rhuryc was left to stir in silence. Unconsciously, Rhuryc wanted to raise his head and wave it about, just to see if Stitch followed it. The thought took most of his suitable willpower to not follow through.

"Hm?" He glanced down at his sword. "She's old. Been with a lot of soldiers, but she's just a blade." Unconsciously, Rhuryc rubbed the hilt of the sword, finding the exercise comfortable. "As for your question, though, my training focused on," He grinned, his eyes glazing over as he recalled a particular memory. "Well. Awareness, let's say. I can handle myself, Sir, and you won't have to worry about watching your back. I can't say how I'll do in some ancient maze, but I've never been to one before." A hand came up to rub the back of his neck, the one hooked to his belt. For some reason the other one never left his pocket.

"But I don't scare easy."

[Stitch]

A smile toyed at the edges of Stitch's lips, and his head tilted upwards a little bit, bringing the angle of his unseen vision just a little higher. He was now "looking" at the man in front of him head on, with his head cocked lightly to the side. He looked as if he was participating on some unseen joke, the edges of his lips curling at the unheard punch line. "Just a sword? Perhaps this one is mistaken, then. Does milord have some other sword? Or are you just quite skilled? Perhaps that is why it looks like it belongs to you. Because you belong with it." He let his mental sight swirl down to the blade hanging from his hip, staring upon it for the first time. Indeed it was just a sword, a very thin Aura of steel radiating from it. It did seem to fit his hip very well though, but a different Aura lingered as well. He wasn't so sure how to explain that, not even to himself. There was obviously nothing else there, but something was lingering on the edge of his vision. All he could think was that the man had another sword, or the man was just extremely comfortable with that particular sword. Or maybe swords in general. Ah, he was focusing too much on it. On to other things.

He stood up, his head still cocked a little bit, that smile still on the edge of his face. He could sense the curiosity on the man, he could literally see it, but he had no idea what it might be about. The magic? Responding to Rhuryc's unspoken curiosity, perhaps giving the man a bit of a start at the fact that Stitch had so easily read his emotions, the blind man spoke. "This one doesn't really know how to explain what he sees. Everything that exists has a magical aura, and facts are contained within that aura. Milord has one, just like the rest of creation, and my blind eyes are able to see that aura, and see the facts contained within."

He paused a moment, now standing, leaning forward on the desk, palms down to support his weight. He had set the bowl of candy down, and now seemed focused on something else. "You don't scare easy, milord? Good. Forgive this one." Rhuryc was only given a moment to think about the curious ending to the sentence before Stitch moved.

Stitch snapped a hand up, outstretched fingers shaped into the form of a knife, the sudden strike aimed for the throat. It would pause right before connecting with that particular section of his body, the blow not too particularly quick, but not at all slouching either. He was saving a bit of energy, using the blow to test how Rhuryc would respond. The blow wasn't really slow because Stitch was holding back, it was slow in case the man instinctively defended himself. Then, more than likely, Stitch would have to use that same hand to defend himself too. He was ready to change the direction and meaning of the blow at any time.

That was what Stitch had been smiling about. The sudden, sneaky blow. Clever blind man.

[Rhuryc]

As was a typical state lately, Rhuryc was confused. Could Stitch read his mind? Or his emotions, maybe. Whatever he read it made him uncomfortable to be exposed to easily. He was quick to keep his expressions hidden - a handy skill, that, but this blind fellow was able to read him like a book. And what was the comment about his sword? He said all of creation had an aura, so why would the hunk of sharpened iron not? Rhuryc frowned, his mind distraught between various bouts of curiosity and interest. Magic, blindness, auras, all of it struck a chord in him that drew out his logical side, one that once enabled was seldom able to be kept at bay. More questions were to follow, he was sure.

"Just one sword. And you don't have to explain, really, I was just-" Rhuryc's words were cut off as he saw the hand lurch forward. Stitch was fast. And clever. Silly clever blind man. Unlike most men in his situation, Rhuryc's reaction was sound, if maybe a little foolhardy. He shot straight up to his feet and his hand, the one that hovered around his sword, grabbed the weapon's hilt and pulled nothing more than an inch steel free from the scabbard. No pain. Wait. Rhuryc quirked a brow as he realized that Stitch had not actually connected the strike and he was in no form of mortal danger. His opposite hand, which had left his pocket in a hurry, lowered and Rhuryc straightened his shoulders, his body having tensed and adapted a poise from which to defend itself. He believed that despite his quickness to react that the initial attack would have succeeded, one reason he remained oh-so grateful for the lack of intended murder.

"...curious." He finished, iron scrapping against leather as he shoved the exposed part of his blade back into his sheath. A test. A valid test, at that. Stitch had good reason to test his words. After all, they would be delving into evils unknown to both of them, the last thing either of them wanted was a coward at their collective backs. Rhuryc sighed and lowered both of his hands, his eyes flicking to rest on the blind man's lack-luster stare.

"I can also make horseshoes if you want to see another trick." Rhuryc said, a lop-sided grin gracing his countenance.

[Stitch]

Stitch paused, considering the man with an unreadable expression on his face. The man had acted well, if not a little brashly. His hand had gone straight for the sword, wasting little time, and his other hand had been coming up to do something or another. Stitch's own striking hand had begun to snap down to block the drawing of the sword, but as Rhuryc held his steel in the sheath, Stitch relaxed. The man wasn't too horribly jumpy, and wouldn't start wildly swinging the sword at the first sign of danger. He also had his wits about him, and had the primal instincts to instantly go for his sword. His aura hadn't really changed either, which was majorly what Stitch had been keeping an eye on. Still synced with it, Stitch hadn't seen fear or intimidation, or a total collapsing of wits. The man's aura had stayed strong, trembling a bit with some surprise, but quickly switching to a protective sort of nature. That was another thing Stitch appreciated. The man had first gone to defense, instead of immediately trying to counter-attack. Caution was a good thing, and Stitch did not believe that the best defense was a good offense. The best defense was actual defense.

Stitch broke into a warm grin, and a somewhat musical laugh, nodding at Rhuryc. "And this one is sure they are quite masterful horseshoes!" The apprentice might be able to actually feel the warmth radiating from the man, the genuine love, as if Stitch had just found in him a long lost brother. Reaching underneath the desk, Stitch pulled out a small little leather bag, and gently set it on the table. "25 Mizas, just like the ad promised, milord. You are in, and this one is very happy to have you. If milord likes, he may also stay here the night, for this one plans on leaving quite early in the morn. If this one has any others apply for the journey, of course." The bag indeed held exactly the amount of Mizas promised, and now it was all for Rhuryc.

"This one plans on going out for supplies later this afternoon, and you are welcome to come along if you like." Stitch stepped out from behind the desk, grabbing for a piece of peppermint, and popping it into his mouth. Swirling it a bit, Stitch took on a look of concern, pausing in front of Rhuryc. "This one wants to make sure you are aware of the dangers, and still willing to come along. This one does not want to put you in too much of a situation."

He paused again, took a breath, and plunged on. "This one would also like to let you know that if things become too dangerous, this one plans to pull out of the Labyrinth, circumstances allowing."

[Rhuryc]

No matter the blindness, Rhuryc could feel Stitch staring at him. The other man was observing him in some fashion, with magic he imagined. What was it he saw? Once again the younger of the two felt his curiosity get the better of him. Questions surfaced at the very front of his thoughts, but he kept them quiet for now. There would be plenty time later on the road. Instead Rhuryc just matched the blank stare and waited, all the while his hands returning to their previous positions. One in a pocket, the other hooked to his belt. If one did not know better it would appear the posture was some sort of state of perpetual awareness, as if the man expected to be attacked at any moment. Handy if one, were say, delving into an ancient labyrinth full of monsters. And death.

The change was unexpected. Not unwelcome, just surprising. Rhuryc returned the smile with one of his own - not so warm, but welcoming nonetheless. The man could not help but like Stitch. There was so genuine a feel to the orphanage owner that he could not imagine harm befalling him. In fact, in those few moments, Rhuryc made a silent vow to himself that no such event would occur. While his livelihood was a hammer, Stitch cared for wayward children in need of a home. His life paled in comparison, at least within the bounds of his own mind.

"You can keep your money, friend." He started, ignoring the coins as they hit the table. "I have my own funds I can supply, and I suppose I will do that. Stay here that is, and accompany you to the markets. Maybe even stop by the Ironworks if you don't mind, I can probably get one of the smiths to part with some armor and a shield." Rhuryc continued to speak as he stood at ease, seemingly content with to stand without rest. His posture was straight, his shoulder upright and chest out; his demeanor that of a soldier, even a Knight perhaps.

"Shall I meet you there? I have some errands to take care of before I commit myself fully."

[Fade]

17th of summer afternoon

Fade made her way to the Welcome Home, the notice had been tugging at her mind incessantly.
She walked silently as she usually did the only noise her bag bouncing on her hip at every step, her icy blue eyes quietly taking everything in and her blonde almost white her tied fluttering in the slight wind. A free slave walking around Syliras and performing as an acrobat, the thought made her smile slightly, who would have thought? She had been born a slave and meant to die a slave, and even if she died on this adventure she would die a free person.

She had never thought about going to the Welcome Home and frankly she probably could have got a job quite easily what with her gift and everything. She could know the desires of every child by a single touch, it could be pretty handy she reflected. But her purpose was different she had come for the adventure dangerous or not she could be useful to the group.
She wondered how the owner of the house would react to her and her gnosis, some people saw it as a curse after all. And it was almost a curse the goddess had said so herself.

She walked up the steps slowly of the three storey building and rapped on the door three times on the door a strange apprehension shrouding her.
She tilted her head and waiting her thin arms at her side her eyes fixed on the door with such intensity that if the door could have shrunk away in an offended manner it would have.

[Stitch]

-Rhuryc- Stitch mentally eyeballed the sack of Mizas as it went ignored, trying to figure out what to do in this particular situation. The man had been kind to deny the money, but Stitch's own polite nature wanted to insist that he take it. For the first time in quite awhile, Stitch was up against his own good-hearted kindness, and wasn't so sure how to handle it. Would it be kind to just thank the man, and accept the Mizas back? Or should he press the matter, and try to convince the man to take them? He didn't think that would work. Standing there still, sucking absentmindedly on the piece of peppermint hard candy, studying Rhuryc carefully. Once again Stitch's invisible gaze grew intense, and once again he peered within the Aura of the man. Golden strands lazily wisped their way around his strong, relaxed form, caressing him as a lover. It wasn't a bright gold, more of a warm gold, like soft and pure sunlight. It was like a million little woven strands, combining to create one comforting light. They each glowed with their own light, weaving around each other, merely lesser parts of one single Aura. Every now and then the strands reached out at Stitch, touching to him affectionately, warming him in their light. The man seemed to like Stitch, and the orphanage owner was proud of that. Rhuryc seemed to be a fine man to have as a friend. The strings of his Aura tightened for a moment, and Stitch got the sense that the man had tensed for a second. The strings moved around each other, swirling in thought, and then settled down in ease once more. What had the man been thinking, Stitch wondered? Stitch absentmindedly answered Rhuryc's question, surprised he was even aware of what the man had asked. He had been too focused on other things, at the time. "Of course, milord. That would be fine with this one, as this one needs to purchase a few things too. This one will wait around for any more visitors, and then leave within the hour to meet you. This one has a young friend who might wish to come along, so this one will introduce milord to her. Fentya, is her name." Stitch smiled as he said the name, that sensation of love radiating from him once more. He was obviously fond of this Fentya. Stepping past Rhuryc, giving him a firm clap on the shoulder, he crossed the room and opened the door. A smile still on his face, like always, he held it open, giving the man a slight bow. "Thank you for dropping by, milord Rhuryc. Do not let this one hold you from your errand any longer."

-Fade- He could sense her moments before she approached his doorway; an odd sort of Aura suddenly appearing at the edge of his mystical vision, and forcing his attention to the oddity. It was a living and breathing Aura, but there was definitely something... inhuman about it. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but it made him uncomfortable. Cocking his head to the side, he focused his mental vision in the direction of the approaching thing, and focused. Something was off. He couldn't make it out. Was it coming here? What did it want with him? Was it an applicant to the journey he was hoping to take? Chewing his lower lip in thought, he tried to focus his Auristics beyond the walls of the Welcome Home, to directly stare upon whatever it was. He couldn't, he sadly wasn't that skilled, but he could still feel it. It was closer now, much closer. The uncomfortable feeling grew. Knock knock. Stitch mentally blinked, starting from his chair. Why had that surprised him? He had knew it was coming. Was he intimidated, even if only slightly? He had to admit, it was a bit of a scary thing for him. His magical eyes had long sense been able to identify many a thing to him, and not very much was foreign any more. To be approached with something foreign, something unknown to his eyes, it was a bit of an offputting idea. It was times like this he hated not having real eyes, and real vision. Sometimes he wished he could see less of the world. Jumping from his seat, he shook his head, walking toward the door. That was a horrible thought to have. He shouldn't be cursing his blessing. He could be blind, truly blind, like so many others out there. Pausing right before he reached the door, he took a moment to compose himself. He also shouldn't be judging the person on the other side of the door, without even have met them face to face. That was a horrible thing to do. Making sure the smile on his face was genuine, and not false, he then opened the door. She's pretty. Again, Stitch mentally blinked, cocking his head. Pretty? He couldn't even see her. How would he know if she was pretty or not? "Hello, milady." A girl, she was a girl. He was glad he had made that observation. He wasn't so sure how he had made it, but he had. His head felt foggy, confused. Her Aura, there was something different about it, something wrong. He didn't look directly upon it yet, not wanting his confusion to marr their conversation, not wanting what he saw to marr his impression of her. He would make a general one, not a judging one. "Are you here for the journey to the Wildlands? Please, come in." He stepped aside, smiling gently at her. She would see an smiling man, the grin on his lips genuine and warm. Affection and love flowed from him, as if she was his close friend, and he was delighted to see her. He was tall, and would be handsome, if not for one thing. Blind and unfocused eyes stared dully in the distance, three milky white scars scratched across the surface of each of the unseeing eyes. They had once been black, but even that had faded, leaving two light gray spots. The door let inward, to a small office, with blue walls that were covered in pieces of paper. The papers contained various children's drawings, rough and messy in nature; yet quite colorful. The only furniture consisted of a few blue chairs, and a single desk with a chair behind it. Another door led deeper.

[Rhuryc]

A stare for a stare. Rhuryc grinned when he realized Stitch must have been focusing his attention elsewhere, perhaps where ever it was he looked, but he remained calm and stationary, allowing the man time to voice his opinions. A young friend? Perhaps another companion on this venture. Good, Rhuryc felt it important that he meet the others that would be accompanying them. The last thing he wanted was mistrust to ruin their journey. He was weary putting his back to a creature he felt no confidence in. Stitch, he could say in confidence, was no such being. Already Rhuryc believed he could dive into the very depths of evil itself and still count on the blind man, silly as it seemed.

Rhuryc gave the other man a nod and followed him to the door. What a strange meeting. Very suddenly he wished he had come sooner. Stitch, unlike most, was a rare being, a person the young man felt shared his sympathies. For once. He took a few wide strides toward the exit and made his way back out into the heart of Syliras, stopping only a moment to confirm the meeting.

"Best to start in the Bazaar, friend. I shouldn't be to long." Another nod and a bow later Rhuryc found his path down the steps and onto the road, refreshed. A good start, if any.

[Fade]

After waiting a few minutes the door was opened, she supposed, by the owner of the Welcome Home. His smile was oddly warm and friendly, his features pleasing to the eye. But his eyes were one of a blind man though Fade almost paid no head to them and when she talked she didn’t avoid their empty stare with her gaze. And anyway he could see something for sure, he knew she was a girl before she uttered any word and had called her milady. The title made her smile, it was odd being called anything at all…she pushed away the thoughts of her past as quickly as she could and replied “Yes, milord I’m here for the journey to the Wildlands though there is no need for formality or at least from your part…I’m Fade” She glanced at the scars over his eyes and only could wonder when and why he got them.

She stepped inside surveying the little office and marvelling at all the children’s drawings colourful and some a bit confused. It must be a beautiful place where the grass, is green the sky is blue and red fish swim in blue rivers and flowers are bigger than people she said to herself.

But then she asked “In the notice a test was mentioned…what kind of test?” She cocked her head and weighed her options but then decided to tell him later about her gift, if he didn’t know it already. She wasn’t confronting a blind man he could see something it was obvious also because a blind man surely couldn’t walk around the Wildlands without knowing the place like the back of his hand. Or maybe he could. She just had to wait and see.

[Guido Faragas]

Timestamp: 17th Summer Mid-afternoon

Guido trudged through the streets towards the Welcome Home with a scowl chasing across his face. The scowl reflected the anger he felt towards his father: a reflection of the insults and cold words that had been thrown towards Guido by Emilio in response to the news that his son intended to leave the city. “Some fool expedition that will get you killed.” Fool expedition! An apt name for the countless times he had accompanied his father into the wilds in search of rumoured finds that somehow always remained elusive; vain journeys following tales told in taverns, idle talk by merchants and the exaggerated claims of swindlers. This will be different, I know it.

In truth, the apprentice reimancer was bored with the endless menial tasks his father burdened him with – fetching, carrying, heaving, pulling....all rewarded with ungrateful grunts of acknowledgment. He longed to return to his studies of glyphs and the magical arts but there was no sign of his mentor. Silven had been absent since last fall: even the old crone who tended his suite of rooms had no inkling of his whereabouts. Guido’s studies had stuttered, just as he was certain that he made significant progress. Then he had seen the notice....it promised an end to his frustration, perhaps a chance to practice what he had learnt.

As he walked towards the pale-stoned Welcome Home, Guido smoothed back his straggly dark hair and tightened the wide leather belt that secured his slightly too large leggings. Must be losing some weight. He was a tall, slender but deceptively muscular youth with tanned skin clearly acquired from a life frequently spent outdoors. He favoured wearing a rather battered dark green woollen coat: however, today he had dressed in a dark brown leather jacket – his least worn piece of clothing. It was a signal of his earnestness that he had thought about such matters.

Climbing the steps to the front porch, he caught sight of the sign and allowed a slight chuckle to escape his lips. Unwanted children! How appropriate... He gave the door three sharp raps of his knuckles and waited for an answer.