Prologue - Legend Without a Name.
A brown, fuzzy patch of hair was visible through the thicket. Just a few strands of thick grizzly fur rose above the twisting branches and leaves which composed the undergrowth. It was all he needed. the way the hairs danced in the morning breeze, it differed in so many ways to the surroundings the hunter could not fathom why any creature sentient as he, could not distinguish between wood and animal. There was always more movement to something alive, the way its heartbeat pulsed below the surface, pushing against the wind. In contrast, woods bend with the wind, bend to natures will. Life by definition, tries to defy it. The animal stirred, a boar, by the hunters guess. Its height and the colour, the very texture of its skin suggested so. It would make a fine meal, once it had been caught and slain.
The hunter was there for one purpose, and that was to survive by killing. This was a fundamental rule of the natural world, and one he did not intend to pass. Especially when it meant a full belly for a week, longer if he could find the salts to preserve the kill, and renewed bindings for his sandals. Already he could easily make out the definition of his larger toes through the thinning material.
He silently took a ravensfeather arrow from its holster on his back. Notching the arrow upon his bow. The animal stirred, by its motion its head had lifted from its rummaging in the undergrowth. The hunter drew silent. His breath whispered to a crawl. He could not understand what had drawn its attention, he was downwind and to his knowledge, had not made a sound. After a few long moments had passed, he resumed his task. Putting real strength behind tail of the arrow, he drew back on the string. Painful creaking of wood strained echoed loud through the forest, or so it seemed to the hunter. This was the moment, the point in time which defined if the hunter would feast tonight or fall asleep to the painful torturing of hunger.
A let loose. The wind was cut as the arrow travelled towards its mark. A terrible scream rang throughout every fibre of the hunters body. The mark had struck, but too soon, he had thought himself much farther away from his mark than he had seemed. He intended to wait a few seconds more for that wonderful sound of his dinner falling the ground. Satisfied the hunter drew towards his prey.
Its unmoving body was clearly visible outside the patch of bracken the creature had been hiding in as it attempted to flee. Its failure was delight to the hunter, good food was rare when one was as poor and without estate as him. He looked upon the body with an almost childish glee. But that feeling was short-lived. He looked upon the arrow which had so valiantly struck its mark, clean in the neck, the quickest kill. The feather-tip was not black. Instead a brilliant clean white dazzled back at him in the early sunlight. His own arrow he then noticed, broken and torn in the bracken. It would have struck the wild pig, if only it had not moved to be killed by this other arrow.
And then it was there in front of him. A terrible wolf.
Hissing, it readied to tear into his own throat. A hunter itself, it knew how to deliver a quick kill also. But then he noticed its eyes, it brilliant dead eyes. Paralysed with fear, the great hunter could not move, nature had won this time. The great creature turned and as it did so, its great claw, nay, hand drew the young boar away. Its great strength making for little struggle in the young animal.
He was alone now, his kill, stolen and so had a little of his boldness. The idea of his mastery over the natural world was shattered somewhat. The hunter did all he could do, set camp for the evening and sleep. And so he did, but hoping for a deathly sleep, one which meant he did not dream of the terrifying events of the morn.
It was in the dead of night when he awoke. Groggily stirring, he realized he had been asleep for far too long and must start to move on, find something else to hunt. Before he could move, his sharpened senses made him aware of...something. It was not an actual noise as such, but a sort of tensing of the atmosphere, almost as if something was restraining itself from making its presence aware.
And then it was upon him again, that terrible, dead eyed wolf. Its snout inches away from his face as he lay in the leather-skin wrapping in which he had been sleeping. But then a new set of eyes appeared, different from those above the snout, these ones from below were not dead. They were very much alive, and human.
"What are you" The creature barked.
The hunter could not answer at first. But then he steadied himself and sat up. the creature drew back.
Indeed it was not a creature but a man, a man dressed as a creature. The man-creature looked at him with steady resolve, crouching with one knee down, one raised. The perfect position incase you need to make a quick exit the hunter knew from his training.
" I am a man" he replied in what seemed like a sensible answer
"No!, What do you do in your life, to survive in this world?" said the strangely dressed man
"I am a hunter, as you seen from earlier, I kill to live, but only lesser lives, I am no murderer and I hope you are not so inclined?"
"I need someone with different skills, skills i do not possess" replied the wolf-man
"And what skills do you seek, for surely you are a superior hunter than I, as I saw from your kill earlier, I would have said you stole my mark, but you simply got there before me, if only by seconds"
"I seek someone who can steal, someone who can steal for me."
"A thief?" suggested the hunter
"Yes, a thief, I have lost something, which was found by another and is now in the towns of men" the wolf man sternly said
"Well I am no thief, but perhaps you could try Shim, I hear the guards there are always ratting out..well street rats who pick the pockets of the fortunates"
"It is a long journey, but if it is as rife with thieves as you say, then I can surely find someone that is compatible" said the wolf-man
After a few seconds of silence and an uncomfortable twitching of the wolf-man's position
"Good fortune on your journeys" said the wolf-man weakly.
"Thank you, and by what name may I call my new unusual friend?"
"I have been called Wolftear"
He backed off into the shadows. The hunter never saw the strange man again.
-----------------------------------------
The Keltarian trader stirred. He awoke to another cold, dusky autumn morning along the great northern trade lane as he liked to call it. His shipment of fine salts lay stored safely away from the harsh winds of marshland and plane-land he would be crossing. His cart was a single horse drawn carriage made from solid oak. However, the age of the wood let tell tale signs of degradation seep through in the form of small cracks and distortions in shape and colour.
It was still his though and he was proud of the honest living he was seeking out. As a resident of Marn he had been moving goods between the city and the Keltarian Region for five years now and had never missed a shipment despite his lack of protection along these harsh roads.Whoever the buyer, whatever the shipment so long as it was legal in both procuring location and destination, he would bear its burden and reap the riches that was a cut in its selling price. Indeed some called him the lucky salesman. That was destined to change, as this shipment would never make its destination.
The trader had passed the junction of the two great lanes more than a week ago now which at that time had marked his last checkpoint before home. His thoughts were of his family. He had not taken a wife even though the first signs of grey adorned his dark matted hair. After the death of his lover more than ten winters ago he could not bear himself to shame her by falling for another. Instead he thought how the money these fine goods would raise for a loving mother and grandmother. His grandmother was an unofficial matriarch of his home district in the city, being one of its eldest, though in no position of power of course, she instead told many stories to those that would listen to the tales of her life.
It was in these thoughts that he almost imagined the violent crash that destroyed his peaceful existence. The day had turned colder, preparing for night, when the bandits that had been following him had decided to strike. He turned around from his rearing horse, there lay several inches deep, a crude iron blade axe that had been chiselled into the distinct yet simple design of a lizards snout. It was if all the detail was missed, yet the basic shape and 'feel' of the pattern which gave away its meaning was clear. The trader knew of this shape and his heart shank in hopelessness.
It was the Dragonetti, a semi cult band of robbers, murderers and thieves who stole from honest traders travelling the North and South passageways of Eyropian and Middle-Eastern Pal Tahrenor. Their violence was legend. Though no tongue ever told of the Dragonetti, they simply did not leave anyone alive to tell their tale. Instead it was the dead tongues which silently told of their cruelty when their corpses were occasionally found with dragon-figure weapons kneaded deep in their bones.
Another crash tore the silence of the Autumn dusk, another near miss. However this dragon-blade axe landed closer to the trader, only several inches away. The horse reeled to a stop in panic, fighting instinct and training, it swayed frantically back and forth, unsure how to continue. A lesser thud echoed from the rich filled store of the traders fully roofed cart. Staring back at the honest man were two murderous hate filled eyes. It seemed to get darker in that instant, as the trader knew his life drew to a close, he felt only sadness for untravelled journeys and unfulfilled ambitions.
As the man drew closer, the trader could see him in clear focus now, the darkness ebbing a little. The man was a fearsome figure to behold, his dark skin and hair was wild in appearance. The man wore a desert style roughsilk wrapping upon his head, giving him a nomadic aura. The trader thought to himself that he would never touch or trade in roughsilk, for it was not silk at all, simply the finely sliced remains of good leather, which gave for an almost cloth-like material which shone like silk, but was harsh to the touch. The trader did not know if it was fear or some trick of the light but he could swear the mans eyes grew redder by the second. Almost as if filled with hellfire itself, as if some great demon had filled the man with power and hatred.
Then there was more red, but this was an eruption of blood. The trader knew the man who was to kill him had sank his sharp blades into his flesh, he anticipated the pain that must come with such a wound which spilled so much red life which now ran down his sand coloured wrappings. But there came no pain, only cold. He was not dying however, he still drew breath. The trader realised that his flesh had not been torn, the cold came from the cooling blood of the dead highwayman that lay in front of him.
The man had an arrow protruding from his neck, tipped with gleaming white feathers.
The terrified trader heard another call of pain, and then a terrible silence come from a little off the road. All sound seemed to echo from afar as if the very air had become conductive. It was dark now, so hard to see. But stood there, tall as a man, was a strand of white against the pitch night.
It moved towards him, almost with unnerving speed. His heart gripped in a new fear, a fear of the beast.
"Do not have fear, horse-kin" Spoke the beast, " I will not harm you"
"What,...who are you, are you animal, or man?" asked the bloodstained tradesman
"In a way, neither, I am kin to none",
"I take it I have you to thank then for me still drawing breath tonight Wolf-man?"
"Yes, this is true, I did spare your life, but I now need your service"
"Oh, how so" said the trader as he wiped some darkening blood from his forehead
"My progress towards the great plane known to you as Thar Shaddin has been slow and I am in a hurry"
"Well my cart is yours, I owe my life to you, whoever you are."
The trader turned his attention to his distressed horse. After it was sufficiently calm the trader turned to the unusual man and said
"You can travel with the salts inside the cart if you wish, you will draw less attention that way, which is what I believe you would prefer?"
"Your judgement is good, my nesting will be in the back of this horsemaster"
Over the next few days the two new companions spoke little, but on the rare occasions where conversation did spring forth over a fire or as they tended to the horse the trader learned that his new companion had been tracking two members of this so called Dragonetti Cult, in order to befriend them and ask them to join his cause as skilled thieves they appeared to be. However, they had attacked him on sight, after any valuables he might carry.
The wolf-man had apparently been lucky to escape largely unscathed,although a large gash which he fleetingly displayed to the trader on his lower leg suggested one of their axes very nearly hit its mark. They had lured him away from the roads after his initial approach to them with promises of cooperation, it had been the first time that the wolf-man could remember seeking out man. The wolf-man had then deemed them unsuitable after their attack, but a sense of dashed honour and want for retribution had kept him with them for a day or so. That is when he had learned of their planned attack on his cart in the coming days.
"Well it seems I have you to thank for a hell of a lot, ever if you just wanted a ride" The trader jested as they continued late on into the night. The wolf-man wondered what he would find in this foreign land he was about to journey into.
----------------------------------
It had been a week now since the gentle, almost unnoticeable shifting of the road eastward had stopped. The final leg of the journey was upon the two travellers. The wolf-man had retreated into himself in the past days, speaking less and less to his new companion. The trader himself did not mind this arrangement as sometimes when he forgot he was carrying another, the bad memories of the attempt on his life almost seemed to dim somewhat.
It was time to rest. The traders chestnut horse swayed off the straight path, showing that it was tired. The trader reared it to a halt at a little nook in the road. He looked upon his ruined cart. The damage had been quite extensive, large jutting shards of broken splinters protruded from the main body of the wagon, it had turned out that in the days following the attack several of the salt filled bags at the edge of the cart had been pierced by those terrible weapons of the Dragonetti. More than a quarter of his delivery was gone and up to a half would be unusable since what was left in the pierced bags would be deemed 'tainted'.
The trader opened the rear door. Nothing but salt, the man was gone, no evidence of him was left save for a clean patch of floor where he had lain. The trader wondered why he had chosen to leave, and without warning. He was still some ways off from his home city and it would have been much faster to reach there if the strange wolf-man had stayed with him. He thought it maybe for the best, no more distractions or potentially things that could kill him on his way home would be quite the pleasant change.
The next evening as the trader lay down to rest when he heard a stirring in the woods followed seconds later by a large dead thud. His heart filled with fear, was this more bandits? surely he got not be so unlucky. Maybe it was the dead bandits friends come for a terrible reverge, the things they would do to him....
"Meat" said a familiar rough voice, "I grew tired of the rations we were eating, I needed more"
"Oh its you, I thought you had left without saying goodbye" the trader jested
Ignoring the joke, the wolf-man answer instead "Since we have salts, this will last us a till the end"
The wolf-man subsequently laid down several rabbits, two pheasents and an infant boar. It seemed as if he had taken one of the near empty sacks from the cart to carry everything in. Not bad for a day and nights hunting.
The two men retired for bed. The wolf-man reforming his 'nest' as he called it, as he did so he removed the pelt for the first time in the traders view. He saw a strange mix of youth and age that night. The man was clearly young, only twenty or so winters aged. But life in the great outdoors had weathered him beyond his years, his wild hair falling back as far as his spine. As he turned around he saw deep into the wolf-man's eyes now not obscured by white wolf fur. The left was startling green, almost luminous jade, while the other although meant to be the same colour, showed what looked almost like a 'bleed' of red had run into to it.
The following weeks past without much incident save for the odd Thar Shaddin traveller or merchant heading in the opposite direction. The trader gave them note but on the wolf-man's instruction gave no other time towards. Meanwhile his companion would remain inside as they past.
Finally, they were no more than a day away from Marn.
"This is where we must part and turn my way southward, for I do not intend on entering your home"
"You were very welcome to come back with me for a while, meet my family, I'm sure one such as yourself would intrigue even my aged grandmother, one whom suggests she has seen everything!"
"I cannot go, I do not wish too many men knowing of me, that has led to....trouble, in the past"
"Very well then, I must thank you again for I would not draw breath on this night if it were not for your timely arrival that night, it all seems so long ago now, yet it has only been one journey. You are a remarkable man I know that Wolftear, for you seem to bring age to anything in your presence, you slow life itself down. Patience you have in bounds.
"It is the way of nature, to wait" Wolftear replied as he turned as disappeared off into the night.
Legend Without a Name
Re: Legend Without a Name
The sound of crickets could be heard playing a sweet lullaby for the young fawns as the nested down into the warm evening grass. It had been a long, lazy day for the deer as they had taken in what sun they could before the onset of the cold season. Niabi was no different, she had spent much of her day forging for what remained of the overripe berries on thorn bushes beside the river, she had taken half a dozen or more short naps, and when that wasn't enough she took to brushing her summer coat up against a tree so as to shake off what loose furs she could.
Soon the warm summer afternoons would be replaced with the cold of winter. Short brown coats would be replaced with longer, thicker gray ones and once again the animals of the woods would forget their lazy afternoons in the desperate attempt to mate and take on what bulk weight they could before the flesh green grass and the lush underbrush retreated for the winter. Though that was still weeks away. Today, as the day before and the day before that, the sun had shown brightly over their small patch of grass.
Several fawns joined in on the crickets' music. They were still young and they delighted in such times of safety to explore their own noises. Some breathed heavily out of their nostrils, a few whined to their mothers for various reasons, a few dug in the grass, ripping out flowers to chew on and one, one sneezed a cloud of dirt into the meadow after burying his head too far into the dirt. It was in that moment that several of the mothers exchanged a look with one another, almost a laugh, that is if deer were capable of such a thing.
Nia was not a part of this shared sentimental moment. She still felt the lost of her latest fawn. It had been months now since a hunter had wandered upon her fawn while she was forging for a meal. He had cried for her help. He had tried to hide himself within the tall grass, but he was not quick enough, he was not quiet enough. The man had seen her fawn, just as Nia had seen the man and as she watched him from the protection of a nearby tree, the man had killed her fawn in front of her and hauled him away.
It was never easy losing a young fawn. The lazy days of summer dragged on that much longer without the companionship of a young deer at her side. She was a mother, that was what she was best at and without a fawn she was...she was...she didn't know what that made her.
As the fermented berries settled within her stomach, she drifted off to sleep once more.
Soon the warm summer afternoons would be replaced with the cold of winter. Short brown coats would be replaced with longer, thicker gray ones and once again the animals of the woods would forget their lazy afternoons in the desperate attempt to mate and take on what bulk weight they could before the flesh green grass and the lush underbrush retreated for the winter. Though that was still weeks away. Today, as the day before and the day before that, the sun had shown brightly over their small patch of grass.
Several fawns joined in on the crickets' music. They were still young and they delighted in such times of safety to explore their own noises. Some breathed heavily out of their nostrils, a few whined to their mothers for various reasons, a few dug in the grass, ripping out flowers to chew on and one, one sneezed a cloud of dirt into the meadow after burying his head too far into the dirt. It was in that moment that several of the mothers exchanged a look with one another, almost a laugh, that is if deer were capable of such a thing.
Nia was not a part of this shared sentimental moment. She still felt the lost of her latest fawn. It had been months now since a hunter had wandered upon her fawn while she was forging for a meal. He had cried for her help. He had tried to hide himself within the tall grass, but he was not quick enough, he was not quiet enough. The man had seen her fawn, just as Nia had seen the man and as she watched him from the protection of a nearby tree, the man had killed her fawn in front of her and hauled him away.
It was never easy losing a young fawn. The lazy days of summer dragged on that much longer without the companionship of a young deer at her side. She was a mother, that was what she was best at and without a fawn she was...she was...she didn't know what that made her.
As the fermented berries settled within her stomach, she drifted off to sleep once more.
Killer of Squirrels
Re: Legend Without a Name
The Wolf headed man was now deep in the woods surveying the the surrounding, unfamiliar lanscape. He had learned well to be patient and gain an understanding of the land around you before attempting to do anything of consequence. This was more so in case such as this when the land was unfamiliar to you. Knowing your way out of a place was more pertiant to one's survival than the ability to fight in this hunters mind.
He took in the smell of the place, the sounds of life that filled the green rich surroundings. The man had gained the ability over the years to understand the 'beat' of the forest as he calls it, akin to the heartbeat of a man. The sounds of the birds and rustlings of the rodents gave sign as to what dangers, if any lay ahead, or instead, if all was peaceful, then the way was clear.
He had made several passes near the main town of this place, always wary of being watched by the eyes of man, he had kept his distance yet close enough to see the daily bustlings of its inhabitants. Large groups of people always put him on edge, too many eyes were watching, too many distractions. The thought of it was foreign to him, and rather unsettling. However he would soon have to enter the town, because only in there held what he was looking for.
Normally the Wolf headed man simply learned and self taught the skills he needed to survive or achieve his goals. This time his own art of stealth would not be enough without someone else to accompany him who was equal or surpassed his own skills at avoiding detection.
What he searched for was the very reason for his urgancy in completing this task, as it was, in a sense, a part of himself. To others it would appear simply as a book, a book containing non sensical depictions of strange sights that the normal mind could not comprehend. For him it was his memories of places he would visit in his dreams. The man was plagued by strange visions mosts night he shut his eyes. They did not make to much sense to himself at times either however in hope that one day he could solve this mystery of the mind he drew everthing he could remember within this book.
It was through his own mistakes that this book had been lost to him. His private satchel which contained this book had seen too many winters it seems. Upon making an extended camp outside the human city of Keltaris the book had inadvertantly fallen from a overworn tear in the satchel as he had packed to leave. He cursed himself still for letting it be lost in such a way, after searching the camp he could find no trace of the book, someone had taken it.
He had met the strange sight of a woman, still fresh out of childhood wandering the woods, he had been in such an anger that he had not stopped to think that this womanchild could be the one responsible, for in his mind he had pictures bandits, robbers and thieves, and not the innocent.
Without the book the memories of his sleeping life were lost to him, without any hope of unlocking their secret they he so surely believed they held. The secret of who he really was. For no memory of a mother or father was still in his mind. He had simply awoken as a child in the woods, far from home but with no memeory of where that home once was.
He took in the smell of the place, the sounds of life that filled the green rich surroundings. The man had gained the ability over the years to understand the 'beat' of the forest as he calls it, akin to the heartbeat of a man. The sounds of the birds and rustlings of the rodents gave sign as to what dangers, if any lay ahead, or instead, if all was peaceful, then the way was clear.
He had made several passes near the main town of this place, always wary of being watched by the eyes of man, he had kept his distance yet close enough to see the daily bustlings of its inhabitants. Large groups of people always put him on edge, too many eyes were watching, too many distractions. The thought of it was foreign to him, and rather unsettling. However he would soon have to enter the town, because only in there held what he was looking for.
Normally the Wolf headed man simply learned and self taught the skills he needed to survive or achieve his goals. This time his own art of stealth would not be enough without someone else to accompany him who was equal or surpassed his own skills at avoiding detection.
What he searched for was the very reason for his urgancy in completing this task, as it was, in a sense, a part of himself. To others it would appear simply as a book, a book containing non sensical depictions of strange sights that the normal mind could not comprehend. For him it was his memories of places he would visit in his dreams. The man was plagued by strange visions mosts night he shut his eyes. They did not make to much sense to himself at times either however in hope that one day he could solve this mystery of the mind he drew everthing he could remember within this book.
It was through his own mistakes that this book had been lost to him. His private satchel which contained this book had seen too many winters it seems. Upon making an extended camp outside the human city of Keltaris the book had inadvertantly fallen from a overworn tear in the satchel as he had packed to leave. He cursed himself still for letting it be lost in such a way, after searching the camp he could find no trace of the book, someone had taken it.
He had met the strange sight of a woman, still fresh out of childhood wandering the woods, he had been in such an anger that he had not stopped to think that this womanchild could be the one responsible, for in his mind he had pictures bandits, robbers and thieves, and not the innocent.
Without the book the memories of his sleeping life were lost to him, without any hope of unlocking their secret they he so surely believed they held. The secret of who he really was. For no memory of a mother or father was still in his mind. He had simply awoken as a child in the woods, far from home but with no memeory of where that home once was.
Re: Legend Without a Name
The last of the overripe fruit that had hung heavy on the vines so late in the season now dissolved within one of the deer's stomachs as she tried to settle in for the night. The warming sensation of the fermination that left her feeling mildly at peace, also prevented her from feeling the least bit bothered when a slight evening breeze picked up. The short hairs of her brown fur, scattered with odd patches of graying fur that was coming in thicker, longer denser, moved with the wind. Her ears twitched, but righted themselves when the breeze had passed.
The deer of the meadow sensed nothing wrong with this peaceful evening as of yet. There were no smells of predators of the wind, there was not the sound of men crashing through the shrubbery and there was no warning from the insects or the other nocturnal animals that they should be weary of anything on this night. Things were quiet, but not that quiet with the sound of the crickets still busily playing away. If her eyes were open, Nia would be able to see the occasional bat fly by overhead. In the growing darkness that came at the end of each day, the woods seemed to be settling in as did each and every night.
The deer of the meadow sensed nothing wrong with this peaceful evening as of yet. There were no smells of predators of the wind, there was not the sound of men crashing through the shrubbery and there was no warning from the insects or the other nocturnal animals that they should be weary of anything on this night. Things were quiet, but not that quiet with the sound of the crickets still busily playing away. If her eyes were open, Nia would be able to see the occasional bat fly by overhead. In the growing darkness that came at the end of each day, the woods seemed to be settling in as did each and every night.
Killer of Squirrels
Re: Legend Without a Name
Alistair pulled the long brown cloak tightly around him as they rolled passed the city guard of Keltaris. Luckily in his ten years here Alistair had made many friends in the merchant community and they were more than happy to smuggle him out for 25 bishani. Basically an uneventful escape Alistair had paid a man named Jigeran for the ride, a merchant who dealt in exotic cloths and leathers he had often smuggled weapons for Alistair in the past making him a reliable if greedy accomplice. As Keltaris disappeared from sight Alistair undid his cloak and handed it to Jigeran. “Thank you friend, you’ll get the second 25 bishani once we arrive at Thar Shaddin. Jigeran frowned “Sorry friend the situation has changed, more lucrative business to be found in Zhaltev then Thar Shaddin I’ll take you to the border about half way and take the other 25 there”. Alistairs smile disappeared and in a flash one of the dagger from his belt was pressed firmly against Jigeran’s throat, “We had a deal! You’ll take me all the way to Thar Shaddin or you woln’t see a dime of the second half of payment.”
Alistair watched as Jigeran’s face squinted in response to the unfavorable turn the conversation had taken, small beads of sweat rolled down the face of the pudgy man his mind furiously looking for the best way out of the situation. “Alright, alright, halfway half-price.” Alistair grimaced folding his arms over in front of his body and nodding in acceptance of the man’s offer. It’s what I get for relying on thieves and cut throats, a small smile washed across Alistairs face as they once again set off after all he couldn’t hold it against the man as Ezkial said “You have to go to where the money is, or you’ll never get to steal it”. Closing his eyes Alistair tipped the brim of his ranchers hat over his eyes to block the setting sun and drifted into a semi-alert sleep, after all he could only trust Jigeran so much.
For a week the journey was boring and simple, no trouble befell them along their path and in short order they reached the halfway point around midnight. “We part ways in the morning Alistair” spoke Jigeran his scratchy nasal voice tinged with anticipation to be rid of the famous bandit, despite their close relationship Jigeran had seen Alistairs dark side and the images of the first time they did business slipped into his head. Jigeran had been hired to transport a set of fine Elvin jewels from Darleone island to Keltaris, unfortunately his wagon had been robbed a days walk from the city. Escaping with his life Jigeran heard of Ezkial from a man of less than good repute and called upon the man to help him, however Ezkial sent Alistair in his stead.
Upon meeting the smiling face of the thief Jigeran had been disappointed by the appearance of his hired assassin and thief, who quickly greeted Jigeran with a smile and seemed to be completely inept in the art of intimidation. Together with his hired hand Jigeran had approached the base of the bandits who robbed him. Alistair had walked in with a smile easily relinquishing the two swords he carried and basically brought before the leader as prisoners their hands bound together by rope. Alistair walked in with a smile and bounce in his step and spoke directly to the leader with no sense of fear or hesitation, “Hi, yes we have come for Jigeran’s property and then we will be on our way”, with his oafish smile it’s no wonder the leader hadn’t taken Alistair seriously unwrapping the package of jewels the bandit spoke with a chuckle “I’m sorry these are mine now… Kill them”. The inflection in Alistair’s voice changed in his reply, the words seem to suck the very life out of the air and Alistairs eyes became as piercing and deadly as daggers. With a simple reply it began “I’m sorry you feel that way”, three explosions followed that statement as bombs planted by Ezkial rocked the entranceway. Using the distraction Alistairs hands became covered by jade smoke which began leaking from them and filling the area around him. In a swirl it disappeared into a dagger flying into the leaders throat. The silence after the explosion was replaced by curdling scream as two short swords in Alistairs hands turned into whizzing cyclones of death, the blades humming in perfect unison as his expert hands twisted them round and round slashing and killing a total of six me before they even had the chance to respond. The blades disappeared in a flash of smoke the blood that once sat on them falling to the floor as Alistair turned and walked out the cave his casual and friendly demeanor returning as he said “They’re all dead take your stuff and meet me and Ezkial at the front, don’t take what doesn’t belong to you that’s ours!”.
Jigern woke from his sleep with a start looking around it seemed as if Alistair had vanished, cupping his hands Jigeran never got the chance to call for the thief as a black arrow lodged itself into the merchant’s skull. Alistair watched as Jigeran toppled over dead he had heard some rustles in the brush and went to investigate, the strange bandit with dragon themed weaponry had died in utter silence his throat gushing a long torrent of blood as Alistairs dagger dragged it’s way across, his free hand covering the mans mouth and nose to prevent any screams. The bandits entered the clearing three of them including the archer. They began searching through the camp for valuables coming across Alistair’s pack one of the bandits howled in pain retracting his hand from the pack as Aramus in hawk from fired out soaring into the air. The archer of the group attempted to knock back an arrow but a green streak flew out from Alistair’s bow piercing the archer’s heart. Aramus flew through the air alert of what his friend would do and silently waiting and searching for enemy reinforcements. Alistair quickly circled behind the men grabbing a hand full of pebbles from the ground he made his way to the perimeter of the clearing and tossed them in the air, the shower of stones landing on the men’s heads as they looked up and raised there weapons to block the strange assault. Alistair pounced like a cat the steel dagger’s in his hand greedily finding the stomachs of the bandit’s before they crumpled to the floor. From the sky three piercing cries echoed through night, a signal for Alistair, more were coming and more than he could handle.
Dashing Alistair headed in the direction the bandits had come from the wagon horses were tethered and would take to long to untie if he was lucky, yes. Alistair found three horses standing in the clearing, two small brown ones and a large intimidating black stallion. Swinging onto the horse Alistair slammed his heels into its side and went tearing off into the night. For the next week the bandit’s comrades hunted the killer of their friends, following his tracks as he rode towards Marn. About a day from the city starts a large woods where many creatures dwell and the foliage was just thick enough Alistair may be able to out run or kill the six men following him. Jumping off his horse as the man came into sight Alistair slipped into the woods his footsteps disappearing as the thief blended into night his movements sounding like the rustle of the wind. Hanging from the branch of a tree Alistair watched as the bandits walked into the woods, summoning up two daggers he tossed them into the napes of the two in rear the men falling lifeless to the earth as Alistair sprinted through the trees.
Now deep in the woods the four remaining bandit’s remained on constant alert and became startled by every noise. Circling the slow moving group Alistair began to close his trap climbing up into a tall tree above the men he knocked an arrow in his bow and sent it flying into one of the men. However on his release the branch he stood on snapped and Alistair charged after it falling to the earth on top of the branch on top of the men. Hurting and dazed the men quickly noticed Alistair rolling away from the crash and getting to his feet, hurting everywhere Alistair made his way through the woods the man right behind him. Trying a quick turn Alistair felt a small flare of pain in his ankle not enough to worry about but bad enough that he needed to rest it for a few hours. Glancing back as he ran Alistair lost his composure and his stealth running through the woods and his eyes towards his pursuers as he charged towards a strange man dressed like a wolf.
Alistair watched as Jigeran’s face squinted in response to the unfavorable turn the conversation had taken, small beads of sweat rolled down the face of the pudgy man his mind furiously looking for the best way out of the situation. “Alright, alright, halfway half-price.” Alistair grimaced folding his arms over in front of his body and nodding in acceptance of the man’s offer. It’s what I get for relying on thieves and cut throats, a small smile washed across Alistairs face as they once again set off after all he couldn’t hold it against the man as Ezkial said “You have to go to where the money is, or you’ll never get to steal it”. Closing his eyes Alistair tipped the brim of his ranchers hat over his eyes to block the setting sun and drifted into a semi-alert sleep, after all he could only trust Jigeran so much.
For a week the journey was boring and simple, no trouble befell them along their path and in short order they reached the halfway point around midnight. “We part ways in the morning Alistair” spoke Jigeran his scratchy nasal voice tinged with anticipation to be rid of the famous bandit, despite their close relationship Jigeran had seen Alistairs dark side and the images of the first time they did business slipped into his head. Jigeran had been hired to transport a set of fine Elvin jewels from Darleone island to Keltaris, unfortunately his wagon had been robbed a days walk from the city. Escaping with his life Jigeran heard of Ezkial from a man of less than good repute and called upon the man to help him, however Ezkial sent Alistair in his stead.
Upon meeting the smiling face of the thief Jigeran had been disappointed by the appearance of his hired assassin and thief, who quickly greeted Jigeran with a smile and seemed to be completely inept in the art of intimidation. Together with his hired hand Jigeran had approached the base of the bandits who robbed him. Alistair had walked in with a smile easily relinquishing the two swords he carried and basically brought before the leader as prisoners their hands bound together by rope. Alistair walked in with a smile and bounce in his step and spoke directly to the leader with no sense of fear or hesitation, “Hi, yes we have come for Jigeran’s property and then we will be on our way”, with his oafish smile it’s no wonder the leader hadn’t taken Alistair seriously unwrapping the package of jewels the bandit spoke with a chuckle “I’m sorry these are mine now… Kill them”. The inflection in Alistair’s voice changed in his reply, the words seem to suck the very life out of the air and Alistairs eyes became as piercing and deadly as daggers. With a simple reply it began “I’m sorry you feel that way”, three explosions followed that statement as bombs planted by Ezkial rocked the entranceway. Using the distraction Alistairs hands became covered by jade smoke which began leaking from them and filling the area around him. In a swirl it disappeared into a dagger flying into the leaders throat. The silence after the explosion was replaced by curdling scream as two short swords in Alistairs hands turned into whizzing cyclones of death, the blades humming in perfect unison as his expert hands twisted them round and round slashing and killing a total of six me before they even had the chance to respond. The blades disappeared in a flash of smoke the blood that once sat on them falling to the floor as Alistair turned and walked out the cave his casual and friendly demeanor returning as he said “They’re all dead take your stuff and meet me and Ezkial at the front, don’t take what doesn’t belong to you that’s ours!”.
Jigern woke from his sleep with a start looking around it seemed as if Alistair had vanished, cupping his hands Jigeran never got the chance to call for the thief as a black arrow lodged itself into the merchant’s skull. Alistair watched as Jigeran toppled over dead he had heard some rustles in the brush and went to investigate, the strange bandit with dragon themed weaponry had died in utter silence his throat gushing a long torrent of blood as Alistairs dagger dragged it’s way across, his free hand covering the mans mouth and nose to prevent any screams. The bandits entered the clearing three of them including the archer. They began searching through the camp for valuables coming across Alistair’s pack one of the bandits howled in pain retracting his hand from the pack as Aramus in hawk from fired out soaring into the air. The archer of the group attempted to knock back an arrow but a green streak flew out from Alistair’s bow piercing the archer’s heart. Aramus flew through the air alert of what his friend would do and silently waiting and searching for enemy reinforcements. Alistair quickly circled behind the men grabbing a hand full of pebbles from the ground he made his way to the perimeter of the clearing and tossed them in the air, the shower of stones landing on the men’s heads as they looked up and raised there weapons to block the strange assault. Alistair pounced like a cat the steel dagger’s in his hand greedily finding the stomachs of the bandit’s before they crumpled to the floor. From the sky three piercing cries echoed through night, a signal for Alistair, more were coming and more than he could handle.
Dashing Alistair headed in the direction the bandits had come from the wagon horses were tethered and would take to long to untie if he was lucky, yes. Alistair found three horses standing in the clearing, two small brown ones and a large intimidating black stallion. Swinging onto the horse Alistair slammed his heels into its side and went tearing off into the night. For the next week the bandit’s comrades hunted the killer of their friends, following his tracks as he rode towards Marn. About a day from the city starts a large woods where many creatures dwell and the foliage was just thick enough Alistair may be able to out run or kill the six men following him. Jumping off his horse as the man came into sight Alistair slipped into the woods his footsteps disappearing as the thief blended into night his movements sounding like the rustle of the wind. Hanging from the branch of a tree Alistair watched as the bandits walked into the woods, summoning up two daggers he tossed them into the napes of the two in rear the men falling lifeless to the earth as Alistair sprinted through the trees.
Now deep in the woods the four remaining bandit’s remained on constant alert and became startled by every noise. Circling the slow moving group Alistair began to close his trap climbing up into a tall tree above the men he knocked an arrow in his bow and sent it flying into one of the men. However on his release the branch he stood on snapped and Alistair charged after it falling to the earth on top of the branch on top of the men. Hurting and dazed the men quickly noticed Alistair rolling away from the crash and getting to his feet, hurting everywhere Alistair made his way through the woods the man right behind him. Trying a quick turn Alistair felt a small flare of pain in his ankle not enough to worry about but bad enough that he needed to rest it for a few hours. Glancing back as he ran Alistair lost his composure and his stealth running through the woods and his eyes towards his pursuers as he charged towards a strange man dressed like a wolf.
Re: Legend Without a Name
The wolf headed man was startled but a thunderous crashing through the woods. It was if the very peace and tranquillity was being torn asunder by some unknown force. Indeed the man had thought it had been peaceful in these woods and had reminded him of home until now.
After the initial startling, he realized it was simply a quickened soul who seemingly did not posses any such trepidations on how to manoeuvre correctly through nature as not to attract her attention. Either that or it this person was in distress.
The man's reactions were lightening fast though it was still not fast enough to be sure to have avoided detection by this unknown mystery. Normally he could here such people, mostly foraging townsfolk, coming from a great distance as they slowly yet nosily meandered through the woods looking for scraps of food or herbs to help augment their usually meagre income.
This person however had seemingly came from nowhere, as if he had moved silently yet somehow lost his ability mid forest flight. It was too late, he would have to deal with this one, and by all standards he saw, this was certainly not the type of person he needed aid of. No, he needed someone who could keep quiet. His fingers brushed the Talon, awaiting the possibility of a confrontation. Wolftear put himself directly in the path of the fleeing man...
After the initial startling, he realized it was simply a quickened soul who seemingly did not posses any such trepidations on how to manoeuvre correctly through nature as not to attract her attention. Either that or it this person was in distress.
The man's reactions were lightening fast though it was still not fast enough to be sure to have avoided detection by this unknown mystery. Normally he could here such people, mostly foraging townsfolk, coming from a great distance as they slowly yet nosily meandered through the woods looking for scraps of food or herbs to help augment their usually meagre income.
This person however had seemingly came from nowhere, as if he had moved silently yet somehow lost his ability mid forest flight. It was too late, he would have to deal with this one, and by all standards he saw, this was certainly not the type of person he needed aid of. No, he needed someone who could keep quiet. His fingers brushed the Talon, awaiting the possibility of a confrontation. Wolftear put himself directly in the path of the fleeing man...
Re: Legend Without a Name
The birds were the first to sense the disturbance. Those that were nestled in nearby trees took flight, from them the insects caught on that something was not right in the woods and they stopped their evening song and dance. With the sudden silence that took over, it quickly became apparent that something was not quite right.
The deer of the meadow took the sign as a warning. Several of their number stood on edge as they scanned the nearby surroundings. Ears flicked back and forth listening to the unheard sounds that could give any sort of clue as to what it was that had set the birds and insects into a state of panic and from which direction the threat came. Tails stood at the ready to give the white sign of retreat, but as of that moment, no threat loomed over the meadow. Whatever it was had not made it deep enough into the woods to find their hiding spot.
Niabi hoped to keep it that way. As much as she wanted to sleep off the berries, protecting her herd was more important. She grudgingly had to pull herself up off the warm grass onto her four furry legs and stretch her neck and back. Even without having the time to properly investigate and assess the situation, she knew that the reason why she was unable to sleep this night was due to the presence of men. Though men rarely showed their faces after dark, or if they did they stuck to their own man herds, Nia had come across more than a few that made exceptions to the rule. In dealing with men, she new that she would also be unable to properly deal with them in her current state. She risked far too much danger to herself as a deer and so she had to become one of them.
Under the watchful eyes of her herd, Niabi went from that of a full grown doe to that of tan-skinned female man with dark hair and the hind legs of a deer from the knees down. She had to rely on the strong muscles of her hind legs to pull herself off of her hands and knees and up onto two legs. She was wobbly at first, had trouble taking her first few steps, but by the time she managed to walk the distance of a few feet over to the hollowed out tree where she kept her belongings, she had gotten the upright walking thing down. From within the tree, Nia pulled out the crudely made skirt of furs and tied it around her waist. Even when walking among men she had her herd with her, her dead fawns and murdered mates traveled with her and hide her hooves from site. Among the low hanging branches of the tree above her, she picked up several handmade clay necklaces and placed them around her neck, then lastly, she placed her small nest of twigs atop her mess of dark hair and made her way through the thick patches of trees to find the intruders to her home.
The deer of the meadow took the sign as a warning. Several of their number stood on edge as they scanned the nearby surroundings. Ears flicked back and forth listening to the unheard sounds that could give any sort of clue as to what it was that had set the birds and insects into a state of panic and from which direction the threat came. Tails stood at the ready to give the white sign of retreat, but as of that moment, no threat loomed over the meadow. Whatever it was had not made it deep enough into the woods to find their hiding spot.
Niabi hoped to keep it that way. As much as she wanted to sleep off the berries, protecting her herd was more important. She grudgingly had to pull herself up off the warm grass onto her four furry legs and stretch her neck and back. Even without having the time to properly investigate and assess the situation, she knew that the reason why she was unable to sleep this night was due to the presence of men. Though men rarely showed their faces after dark, or if they did they stuck to their own man herds, Nia had come across more than a few that made exceptions to the rule. In dealing with men, she new that she would also be unable to properly deal with them in her current state. She risked far too much danger to herself as a deer and so she had to become one of them.
Under the watchful eyes of her herd, Niabi went from that of a full grown doe to that of tan-skinned female man with dark hair and the hind legs of a deer from the knees down. She had to rely on the strong muscles of her hind legs to pull herself off of her hands and knees and up onto two legs. She was wobbly at first, had trouble taking her first few steps, but by the time she managed to walk the distance of a few feet over to the hollowed out tree where she kept her belongings, she had gotten the upright walking thing down. From within the tree, Nia pulled out the crudely made skirt of furs and tied it around her waist. Even when walking among men she had her herd with her, her dead fawns and murdered mates traveled with her and hide her hooves from site. Among the low hanging branches of the tree above her, she picked up several handmade clay necklaces and placed them around her neck, then lastly, she placed her small nest of twigs atop her mess of dark hair and made her way through the thick patches of trees to find the intruders to her home.
Killer of Squirrels
Re: Legend Without a Name
Alistair watched as the wolf like man drew nearer, glancing back he spied the three bandits chasing after him. In a flash the plan came to him, it would be risky, require perfect timing, and just a little luck. A small smile crawled across Alistair’s face he was one of Keltaris’s most wanted and moments like this reminded him just how much fun this could be, with a grin he grasped the strap to his pack and began. The lead bandit chasing Alistair raised his sword as Alistairs pack went flying off the infamous thief and towards him. As the pack soared back the top burst open with a deafening screech a brown hawk fired through the air swerving just short of the first bandit and flying into the air with a second deafening screech. A thump cut the silence after the hawks screech as the lead bandit crumpled to the floor a dagger protruding from his neck, unlike the previous daggers this one was not jade and did not dissipate instead the steel dagger simply sat there only disappearing from sight when a cloud of jade smoke fell from above and dissipated.
From the branch of a nearby tree Alistair sat in perfect silence watching the results of his work. The maneuver had been tricky but worth it, when he flung off the bag Alistair dove forward using his wrists instead of his hurt ankle to propel himself high into a corkscrew like spin, he concentrated his energy severing as many astral strings as he could to create a thick cloud of smoke above the small part in the trees where they stood. Whipping his bow off from his shoulders Alistair swung it around a nearby branch using it like a rope to swing him self up. As he hit the tree Aramus his faithful companion released his second screech as Alistair pulled himself up into the trees disappearing from sight. From his safe vantage point Alistair fired one of the daggers from his belt the knife flying through the air burying itself into the lead guards neck as Alistair sunk deeper into the foliage just out of sight he would watch what the wolf man he jumped over would do.
From the branch of a nearby tree Alistair sat in perfect silence watching the results of his work. The maneuver had been tricky but worth it, when he flung off the bag Alistair dove forward using his wrists instead of his hurt ankle to propel himself high into a corkscrew like spin, he concentrated his energy severing as many astral strings as he could to create a thick cloud of smoke above the small part in the trees where they stood. Whipping his bow off from his shoulders Alistair swung it around a nearby branch using it like a rope to swing him self up. As he hit the tree Aramus his faithful companion released his second screech as Alistair pulled himself up into the trees disappearing from sight. From his safe vantage point Alistair fired one of the daggers from his belt the knife flying through the air burying itself into the lead guards neck as Alistair sunk deeper into the foliage just out of sight he would watch what the wolf man he jumped over would do.
Re: Legend Without a Name
Something out of the ordinary happened next that the wolf headed man was not expecting. The noisy man suddenly worked arcana, creating weapons from thin air and killing men before him.
This man might be more useful than he first believed, indeed if he could teach him to move a little more humbly in the woods, then perhaps he could put use his talent to use in the towns of men where he was a little more out of place. Befriending this one however may be difficult, for a start, the wolf headed man had no great strength when it came to social plesantries, and this man appeared dangerous, and one who he would normally have avoided.
He approached where the man had once stood, looked up the tree he had receeded too after striking down those men and the wolf headed man spoke.
"Are you a bird or man, one that makes his home in the trees surely cannot be the latter"
This was his attempt at humour which on afterthought, believed that his 'good intentions' might be lost on the man. He eagarly awaited a reply.
This man might be more useful than he first believed, indeed if he could teach him to move a little more humbly in the woods, then perhaps he could put use his talent to use in the towns of men where he was a little more out of place. Befriending this one however may be difficult, for a start, the wolf headed man had no great strength when it came to social plesantries, and this man appeared dangerous, and one who he would normally have avoided.
He approached where the man had once stood, looked up the tree he had receeded too after striking down those men and the wolf headed man spoke.
"Are you a bird or man, one that makes his home in the trees surely cannot be the latter"
This was his attempt at humour which on afterthought, believed that his 'good intentions' might be lost on the man. He eagarly awaited a reply.
Re: Legend Without a Name
With some practice Niabi was able to walk on two legs almost as well as she did on four. It took some getting used to standing upright and moving forward. She felt too tall, like she was going to topple over forward at any moment, but she kept on moving and over time it became easier. Well walking became easier, but her movement was still hindered by the skirt of furs that hung around her waist and caught on roots and thorns from a nearby berry bush. The skirt was not ideal for walking through the underbrush as it liked to snag on everything in it's path, but with a little tug it freed itself and she could continue on her way.
She moved as quietly as she could. She didn't want to alert any intruders to her presence and make it harder for herself to sneak up on them. Her first goal was to observe them, she needed to see what it was that they were doing within her home and how many of them there were. It would be dangerous for her to just charge out into a group of men where they could outnumber and easily attack her.
From behind the safety of a cluster of trees, Niabi crouched into a bush and watched the goings on in the small thin section of trees. Her eyes caught on first to a wolf or rather a wolf-man standing in the middle of a small clearing. He looked to be staring as something up in a tree that she could not see from her perspective. From the site of fresh bodies on the ground, Nia guesses that could be another person up in the tree.
To her, the most logical reasoning to the situation was that the wolf-man had clearly killed these men for coming into the woods and causing trouble. Like herself, the wolf was probably protecting his home and his family from those that would hunt them down and kill them. This wasn't the first time that she had met a wolf-man in these woods, so she assumed he must be related to her friend wolf that had helped her scare off a man with really hard skin that had tried to attack her.
She moved as quietly as she could. She didn't want to alert any intruders to her presence and make it harder for herself to sneak up on them. Her first goal was to observe them, she needed to see what it was that they were doing within her home and how many of them there were. It would be dangerous for her to just charge out into a group of men where they could outnumber and easily attack her.
From behind the safety of a cluster of trees, Niabi crouched into a bush and watched the goings on in the small thin section of trees. Her eyes caught on first to a wolf or rather a wolf-man standing in the middle of a small clearing. He looked to be staring as something up in a tree that she could not see from her perspective. From the site of fresh bodies on the ground, Nia guesses that could be another person up in the tree.
To her, the most logical reasoning to the situation was that the wolf-man had clearly killed these men for coming into the woods and causing trouble. Like herself, the wolf was probably protecting his home and his family from those that would hunt them down and kill them. This wasn't the first time that she had met a wolf-man in these woods, so she assumed he must be related to her friend wolf that had helped her scare off a man with really hard skin that had tried to attack her.
Killer of Squirrels
Re: Legend Without a Name
It was a light chuckle at first which turned into full laughter as Alistair responded from his hidden perch in the trees, his voice tinged with mirth and just the hint of a threat. “Ha, ha a man who thinks he’s a wolf calls me a bird, well Mr. Wolf I suppose in some ways I am a bird… Always just out of grasp, and terribly bored when I’m not flying.” Alistair Chuckled a little at the hidden joke between him and Aramus as he dropped from the tree his right hand curled ever so slightly he was prepared to summon and release a dagger at a moments notice.
Leaning against his former perch Alistair’s face remained a picture of peace and happiness, a permanent smile glued to his lips. However his eyes we’re more cunning they scanned the man before him from head to toe, looking for any hints of danger. He spotted claw on wolftears finger, the muscular body hidden beneath the shaggy attire, the man could handle himself in a fight. With a smile and glare that almost certainly looked like a dare he spoke again.
“Well Mr. Wolf, if I’m bird… does that make me your prey?… Wana try and eat me?”
Alistair finished his statement his eye’s watching for the slightest sign of hostility. It’s not that he wanted to fight, but the man certainly looked like a challenge and his ankle was already starting to feel better.
Leaning against his former perch Alistair’s face remained a picture of peace and happiness, a permanent smile glued to his lips. However his eyes we’re more cunning they scanned the man before him from head to toe, looking for any hints of danger. He spotted claw on wolftears finger, the muscular body hidden beneath the shaggy attire, the man could handle himself in a fight. With a smile and glare that almost certainly looked like a dare he spoke again.
“Well Mr. Wolf, if I’m bird… does that make me your prey?… Wana try and eat me?”
Alistair finished his statement his eye’s watching for the slightest sign of hostility. It’s not that he wanted to fight, but the man certainly looked like a challenge and his ankle was already starting to feel better.
Re: Legend Without a Name
"Wolves pay no attention to the lives of creatures above the forest floor. They focus solely on what they're eyes can see and hunt from fox to faun yes, but not those creatures who carry wings. Those they generally ignore." said the man
This one was wily he thought as he absently tensed his talon. He was still in need of service from one such as he though so restraining himself he asked.
"What is it you seek?, for I seek someone with skills such as yourself to aid me in finding something which I have lost, and in turn Ill deliver whatever it is you want" said the wolf headed man boldly.
This one was wily he thought as he absently tensed his talon. He was still in need of service from one such as he though so restraining himself he asked.
"What is it you seek?, for I seek someone with skills such as yourself to aid me in finding something which I have lost, and in turn Ill deliver whatever it is you want" said the wolf headed man boldly.
Re: Legend Without a Name
So it was a man that the wolf had chased up the tree. Why the wolf simply spoke with him when he came down, instead of tearing the man to pieces, Nia could not understand he he must have had his reasoning. Maybe he was waiting for something. Maybe there were more wolves waiting in the bushes.
She couldn't hear or understand what it was that they were speaking of, language was so complicated, so confusing. Why did people have to make it so difficult to communicate with each other? Why couldn't they just make it simple and understandable?
Against her better judgment, Niabi decided to get a closer look. She stood back up on her two legs, climbed out of the bush and walked around the tree. she took a few steps forward, stepping over loose twigs in her path and ducked behind another thinner tree. If the others looked in her direction, she could be seen peering from behind the tree, but as of now they seemed to be too distracted with each other to pay her any attention.
She could hear them now, but most of what they said still went over her head. She knew of killing, of hurting, of people crying out for help in their last moments of life, but of other things she knew very little well as far as language was concerned. In her opinion, if things could not be expressed through body movements, or sounds, than what was the point in expressing them? What could be so important?
She was curious if nothing else.
She couldn't hear or understand what it was that they were speaking of, language was so complicated, so confusing. Why did people have to make it so difficult to communicate with each other? Why couldn't they just make it simple and understandable?
Against her better judgment, Niabi decided to get a closer look. She stood back up on her two legs, climbed out of the bush and walked around the tree. she took a few steps forward, stepping over loose twigs in her path and ducked behind another thinner tree. If the others looked in her direction, she could be seen peering from behind the tree, but as of now they seemed to be too distracted with each other to pay her any attention.
She could hear them now, but most of what they said still went over her head. She knew of killing, of hurting, of people crying out for help in their last moments of life, but of other things she knew very little well as far as language was concerned. In her opinion, if things could not be expressed through body movements, or sounds, than what was the point in expressing them? What could be so important?
She was curious if nothing else.
Killer of Squirrels
Re: Legend Without a Name
Alistair smiled his shining white teeth a devilish contrast to his olive skin, in truth he made the decision right there, what the wolfman would do for him but still perhaps it was the fae blood in him that just had to make him sweat. “Hmm… not too bright are we? You played your cards rather quickly no bluffs, no lies. You’ve lost any and all bargaining chips. Your boldness, the way you tensed in anger at the thought of your lost object, just before you revealed your plan to me… you want me to steal something and whatever it is it matters a great deal to you. Does it not?”
Alistair paused for a moment as if to let the man speak but quickly spoke again before he could. This time leaning in close his voice higher than a whisper but lower than normal “What if I asked for your life, or perhaps something else? Maybe I want the pelt that adorns your back, or the talon that serves as your weapon. I could ask for anything now and know that you’re desperate enough to deliver. Very foolish of you.” Finishing his statement and drawing back a little Alistairs devilish grin gave way to a legitimate smile. “Lucky for you I want none of those things, for the look of you I’d guess you’re not secretly wealthy either, so you must pay in service. Two things one I want your help with something I need… which ill tell you about later. Two my bow broke I’ll take yours”.
Finished with his demands Alistair glanced towards the woods, he was in business mode highly attuned for any danger. He had heard the slight snap made by the feet of the strange woman on the dry twigs of the forest floor however he glanced just long enough to make her wonder did he see her? Or did his gaze move right past her. For now he needed to be on guard two people dressed like they live in the wild what we’re the odds he was about to be ambushed. Once more lying back against the tree, he brought two fingers in a circular shape to his lips releasing a piercing whistle. From the skies Aramus responded with a single screech he too was ready, things could get interesting soon.
Alistair paused for a moment as if to let the man speak but quickly spoke again before he could. This time leaning in close his voice higher than a whisper but lower than normal “What if I asked for your life, or perhaps something else? Maybe I want the pelt that adorns your back, or the talon that serves as your weapon. I could ask for anything now and know that you’re desperate enough to deliver. Very foolish of you.” Finishing his statement and drawing back a little Alistairs devilish grin gave way to a legitimate smile. “Lucky for you I want none of those things, for the look of you I’d guess you’re not secretly wealthy either, so you must pay in service. Two things one I want your help with something I need… which ill tell you about later. Two my bow broke I’ll take yours”.
Finished with his demands Alistair glanced towards the woods, he was in business mode highly attuned for any danger. He had heard the slight snap made by the feet of the strange woman on the dry twigs of the forest floor however he glanced just long enough to make her wonder did he see her? Or did his gaze move right past her. For now he needed to be on guard two people dressed like they live in the wild what we’re the odds he was about to be ambushed. Once more lying back against the tree, he brought two fingers in a circular shape to his lips releasing a piercing whistle. From the skies Aramus responded with a single screech he too was ready, things could get interesting soon.
Re: Legend Without a Name
"You want the bow, then I implore you to try and take it. You seem to have some command of etheral energies little man" said the wolf-headed man sternly
"But do you think you can send one of your infernal conjurations and have it hit its mark before I have a white feathered arrow implanted in your neck?"
"You will have nothing of mine, for it is mine and not yours, however you will help me little man, and you shall be rewarded, that we will discuss later. I believe we are not alone and should wait until we can be sure neither of us gets stabbed in the back by more of your little friends"
The wolf headed man turned to leave, gesturing slightly for the man to follow...
"But do you think you can send one of your infernal conjurations and have it hit its mark before I have a white feathered arrow implanted in your neck?"
"You will have nothing of mine, for it is mine and not yours, however you will help me little man, and you shall be rewarded, that we will discuss later. I believe we are not alone and should wait until we can be sure neither of us gets stabbed in the back by more of your little friends"
The wolf headed man turned to leave, gesturing slightly for the man to follow...