The Forests of Aerire

Asteria rose before the sun, as was her custom, and began preparing for the day’s hunt. Kicking dirt over the remainder of last night’s campfire, she tried to remain as quiet as possible so she didn’t wake up her traveling companion. He slept across the fire from her, snoring occasionally and muttering in his sleep, even chuckling a couple of times. A rare smile crept across her lips as she got dressed and wondered how in the world she ever ended up in his company.

She had slept in her leather armor and she brushed all manner of dirt and leaves off of it before attaching her torso guard. It was a beautifully designed metal piece that fit squarely over her stomach with ornamental chains that would attach it to her bodice. Next came her boots and tucked into her boots she placed two of her many daggers. After a few minutes she had thrown on the rest of her equipment and grabbed her bow then set off towards the woods on whose borders they had slept that night. A decent meal would be wonderful, if she could find the right sort of game, though her companion would no doubt work his magic on whatever she caught. Slipping soundlessly through the trees, she travelled a hundred or so yards then climbed the nearest oak and perched on a thick limb to wait.

An hour or so passed, but the sun had still not risen. This eerie time of morning was usually when she saw the Ruema deer which came out this early to find food before the predators awoke. Asteria kept her eyes on the ground below but relied more on her ears, having learned that this was far more effective in her days of being a Hunter, a high ranking position among her people, the Arik’ato. Her muscles ached from the long stretch of time seated in one position, never moving, but her persistence paid off when she heard a branch crack to her left. She let her eyes hone in on the sound, but dared not twitch a muscle as a beautiful white buck stepped into a small patch of clear land. He was easily three-feet tall which was quite large for the Ruema deer and was quite weighty. She slipped off her bow and drew an arrow from her quiver then within seconds she had nocked her arrow and then let it fly. Calling her powers of wind control, she helped to push the arrow along so that hopefully it would strike true before the animal knew what had happened.

True to her skill, the arrow pierced the animal's side and hit the heart. The wounded animal let out a bleat before running a step or two and keeling over. Asteria jumped down from the tree branch, tossing her bow across her torso and then leaned down to inspect the deer. In her native tongue, she let forth a small prayer of thanks to the God of Luck for aiding her this day and began the arduous process of field dressing her catch.

By the time that the sun was starting to peek along the horizon, Asteria was just coming out of the woods hauling the deer’s hide filled with the meat she had carved off of the carcass. She had left most of the organs in the forest along with the corpse of the animal, to help feed predators that were not as lucky as she had been that day. Her belief was not to waste what she would not eat on herself, so she would leave it for the animals of the forest. As she approached their campsite, she tossed down the meat filled hide and held up her hands to her companion. “I need to go clean up, I’ll be back,” she said in a clear, light tone before turning and walking over to the nearby stream to wash the blood off of her skin.

Lucis, an out-of-place human in the humongous forest of Aerire, hauled around a heavy tree trunk. A good muscle exercise, had he not used both arms to carry it. He just wanted something to sit on – a human his age was, after all, not as flexible as those awfully limber forest people. Truthfully, Lucis had only ever met one of them, but his blonde-haired partner seemed a fair representative.

The muscled bard sat himself down and absent-mindedly grabbed his lute. He was a man who started and ended his day with music, and yet, he put the instrument down after only a couple of notes. Within Aerire’s humbling trees, silence was a music that tolerated no intrusion. Besides which, his thoughtful companion had probably gone to secure breakfast before he woke up. Lucis softly laughed. He was well aware that the local wildlife was less than appreciative of his music.

Lucis had entered the forest only a couple days ago – his recently acquired partner had wanted to travel through the outskirts of the forest, and Lucis rather enjoyed her company. She was a good listener. A listener in general. Not very schooled in the fine arts, but no one was perfect.

Thud.

A bloodied pelt landed in front of him – the hunt had been good. Lucis did not recognise the animal, but it seemed to be venison of some kind…
“I need to go clean up, I’ll be back,” his companion said, a young golden-haired woman called Asteria. She immediately turned around, and left her companion with the meat. Lucis had a tendency to patronize those younger than him – well, that’s what people told him anyway – but it was hard to view this young woman as a child, when she had so adeptly prepared the meat. It was in pristine condition, not a trace of bile to be detected. It was a pity the liver had been left behind, but they would just have to forage some vegetables. Lucis said a short prayer, hardly religious in nature, to thank the animal for its offering. Knowing its killer’s skill, it had not suffered. While he abhorred the act of killing, Lucis was also a man honest to himself, and dead animals tasted delicious.

Inspiration struck. He took up his lute, played a couple of random chords, and started singing at the top of his lungs.
“Oh animals, our intents are not at all malicious,
You dead things are simply too delicious,
Your meats, for my muscles oh so nutritious,
This rhyme may be - just a tad - too ambitious!”
Lucis put down the slightly bloodied lute and burst out in roaring laughter. He should write that down, except he had not yet mastered the skill of writing beyond the letter L. The M and N kept confusing him, but he’d get it eventually. As long as he didn’t give up, he would make it. Lucis vaguely remembered that was what his magic teachers used to praise him for – his persistence. Only that though, for he possessed not even the smallest grain of magical talent. All he had was willpower, but it turns out that if you have enough of that, well, it could compensate for a lot of things.

“HUUUUUURRAAAAAAAAARRRRGHH!”
Lucis roared, and channelled pure physical concentration into magic, barely managing to reignite the died-out campfire. He should really purchase a tinderbox sometime. What would he do if he lost his voice?

Once the campfire was securely burning, Lucis took out a pair of frying pans. Pans. What a luxury. It had only been a few months ago when Lucis still had to use his armour to simmer his meats in. He was pretty sure he would never get the sweet scent of roasted pork out of them, though he personally did not mind. That said, it did darned little to suppress his near-endless appetite, an appetite that needed stilling. Lucis retrieved his supplies from his backpack, and started to cook. First, he trimmed the obvious fat off the meat. Besides not being healthy, it would go rancid sooner than the rest. A large chunk of the venison was then cut into small slices, and added to a frying pan with a small glug of oil. Small snippets of onion, some herbs, and a little salt soon found their way to the meat. An egg captured the dish into a whole, topped with a little sprinkle of cheese. Lucis also fried a couple of mushrooms on the side – Asteria liked those, he could tell.

While his companion's breakfast was put aside to cool down, Lucis, for his part, started working on his own breakfast. It would have less quality and more quantity, because that was how he liked it. It was much more fun to cook for others. Still, it would be excessive to fry all of the meat. Best just leave it for now – they were running out of salt to preserve it with, and their emergency rations were still plentiful. Maybe they could backtrack a bit and trade the venison with the farmer who had given them the eggs and cheese. Some vegetables would be nice – Lucis pretty much instinctively knew what food would go well with each other, but he was utterly incapable of telling vegetables from weeds without digging the entire thing up first. He’d rather leave that to his companion, to whom such things were as natural as breathing.

Lucis sat back and leisurely played an improvised song, blissfully oblivious to the awful tunes produced by his lute.

Rossin strayed through the forests of Aerire, leaving Owinn behind quite some time ago. His padded feet clapped softly against the ground, the grasses rustling loudly as he stepped upon them. He smiled at the birds chirping, the wind blowing, and the trees dancing with every gust, as if a partner in some sort of dance routine. He smiled, and took a deep breath. The air here felt much less...stagnant, as it did in Owinn. He wouldn't mind going back to the town.... But he much prefered it out here. He felt more at home; less out of place, really. Nature suited him. That and he got less odd stares.

The monk sighed as he came to rest at a large oak, that reached for the heavens in height. It might've been the tallest tree in that wood. Rossin was sure he was just a tad drastic at this point, but he was takign delight in this little stroll. He took a second to enjoy just the peace and soft sounds of nature....

“HUUUUUURRAAAAAAAAARRRRGHH!”

Well. Sounds of nature anyway. "Mnn." Rossin said with deep, sarcastic enthusiasm, mostly just for himself. "That's a new species of bird." He smiled to himself, and listened to the rather.... You couldn't discribe it as brutish or obnouxous... but it was solid. It was full, and broad. It was the kind of voice that surrounded you, and you really couldn't tell what direction the sound was coming from. It was like being in a closed room... except for they were in the dead middle of a forest. 'That's a set of lungs.' Rossin though to himself. He smiled as he listened to the echo. It was surely a larger man. A person Rossin's size couldn't dream of making such a sound with their body. He placed the echo behind him, and began to walk away from it, hoping that his logic wouldn't fail him in tracking in a forest. He listened closely for anything resembling human vocalistics. Not that he was an expert, or anything.

Soon enough a sound filled his ears. Though it was less than a good sound, it was far from the worst thing that he had heard. The brisk strike of lute strings and a human voice soon was able to be heard. Rossin changed his path straight for the lute player, not yet seeing him, but the sharp and flat notes his lute spat were helpful indicators. He might've been tuning or even trying to find the right chord for a song. His smile grew wider as he listened to the song. It wasn't even catchy. But it was of good spirits. Perhaps bountiful hunt or grand harvest. He really didn't care. What mattered was someone was out here, enjoying the same enviorment he was. Like interests, at leasts.

It wasn't long before he came upon the song-singer. A rather gruff, more than muscular man bearing a, by comparison, tiny lute was a tad humorous. He might've looked much better with a Thorebo. He walked mildly towards the man, with a light smile. He seemed to have a fire going in front of him. He walked into his implied campsite, stepping close to the fire. His arms were crossed lightly, and he offered a polite bow to the gentleman sitting down with an instrument. He spoke in a lighthearted, playful voice, hoping to see if the man was okay with jokes..
"Practicing bird-calls, are you? For a moment, I could have sworn that was the cry of the legendary mammoth Bear-Hawk. I prayed that I was not it's prey." He said, offering a chuckle.

Lucis blankly stared at the skinny stranger, before erupting in a deep, raucous laughter. It was in response to the younger man’s jest as much as his sudden appearance – his female companion was the attentive of the two. Lucis had not assumed the long-haired man meant him harm for even a second (he never did), but his militarian past did make him take note of the absence of weapons. And yet the man had approached him, he who wore a short scabbard by his side so obviously. Lucis could only deduce a single thing. The poor man was starving.

“Indeed!” Lucis boomed, while striking a couple notes at random. “And attract a bird they did, look and see, bearing a crest more vibrant than an autumn tree.”
He rose to his feet, indelicately tossed his instrument aside, and made a clumsy bow. Lucis was more of a hand-shaker himself, but he had noticed the prominent tattoos on the man’s hands. They did not seem to be symbols – not simple ones, at least, but he may very well be a pilgrim nonetheless. Lucis’ faithless hands had more than once ‘defiled’ believers’ sinless hands, and he felt rather proud of having learned his lesson.
“It is Lucis that I am named,
By your gauntness, my hospitality is shamed,
Sit, my friend, have you yet to break your fast?
I shall prepare a meal our appetite shan't outlast!”

Lucis stabbed a knife into a steak of venison, glistening with juice, broiled to perfection and then some (if Lucis were to say so himself), and gestured the man to take it from the pan. Surely Asteria would not mind.

Asteria knelt down beside the stream bank and thrust her hands into the icy cold water to clean them. Chewing on her lower lip in an attempt to forget the pain that settled into her joints, she scrubbed herself until her skin was free of blood and bits of meat. The young archer withdrew her hands and let them press together for warmth before standing back up again and turning around. A smile crept upon her face, lighting her features as she heard Lucis singing yet another tune. He never seemed to speak normally, always in rhyme and always in a sing-songy fashion. This normally didn’t bother her except for when he played that God-forsaken lute as well. She had heard of instruments being strung with cat gut and if his lute was an example of such craftsmanship then she would have to find the creator and strangle them with their own strings. It sounded like actual cats screaming inharmoniously at each other in a battle to see which could produce the most off-key tune.

As she approached the campsite, she noticed someone new was by Lucis and immediately she went for her bow, nocked an arrow and drew it back so that she was ready to fire. Still moving, just more stealthily now, she circled around until she was positioned behind the newcomer and her eyes went to her giant friend for confirmation. Obviously, she was not as friendly or accepting as Lucis was.

“Lucis?” was all she asked, glancing between the bard and the long-haired man. Asteria kept herself positioned far enough back so that she would be hard to reach but close enough so that her arrow would hit the newcomer before he could even touch Lucis. If the bard had a more pronounced sense of survival, she wouldn’t have asked any questions but her traveling companion was nice to everyone, everywhere. No questions asked. Yet unfortunately for Asteria, she knew that the world was not a gentle place and not all people could be trusted. She awaited a response from either party in a pose that suggested no aggression, just caution.

Rossin grinned as the man laughed. He was as his apperance let on: A jolly,oddly muscular, man.He had to stop and choose his action, as Lucis was much larger than he. Much.He smiled and stepped forth, eagerly shaking the man's hand lightly. He made comment about Rossin's hair, saying that it was like a bird's crest. As he spoke in rhyme to the monk, he couldn't help but chuckle. It wasn't a mocking chuckle...but one of actual enjoyoment! He clapped his hands lightly. "Magnificant. I assume you are a bard, or a ministrel, or something as such, friend? One whom sings from day start to end? Notes and songs to your will, you bend? Myself singing along; I hope you don't...take...offend..." He said, obviously stumbling over his words, rhymes and song. He then laughed showing his good spirit, reaching out to wrap an arm around the man. But he moved away, before moving back and offering him a juicy, almost teasing steak of venison.

"Your generousity is unfounded, my good sir! I've narry asked for anything, and you offer your precious meal, that looks as if a king himself would dine upon it! But I am not hungry my friend. Owinn is where I ate, and ate well. If you truly insist upon your meal, I shall not be rude and tarry any longer. But I do not wish, or need your food. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, sir. It is hard to find such generousity in men these days." He said, holding his hand up to show that he was not hungry, true to his word. As good as this man's meal was, he was truly not hungry. He would now take inventory of the man, his eyes darting up and down the man. While he was armed with a blade of some fashion, Rossin really took the man to be a peace loving fellow.

He heard a woman's voice. And honestly, Rossin jumped a little, as if startled. Where he was from, women were just as much a threat as a man. And her voice didn't sound friendly. While the name in question he believed she called was not his, it was as if she already thought him hostile. He didn't know what was in store for him, nor did he really wish to know. He slowly turned his head, untill the woman in question came into view. He slowly moved his hands in the air, offering a cheeky grin. "I value my back not being a pincushin, mi'lady. Might we keep it that way?" He asked in a rather serious voice. He honestly didn't find the arrow much a threat. But he didn't want to fight these people.... They had wronged him in no way, so there was no need to wrong them either. He simply wanted to avoid trouble.

The inn was never usually this busy, he could tell that much. The look of frank astonishment on the innkeepers’ face when a gang of around 6 burly (Not to mention ugly) men flanking a slightly less burly but no less ugly man appeared into his inn, all asking for flagons of his finest mead and rooms for the night was all too apparent and the general shabbiness of the inn truly cemented it as nothing by a rest stop for whatever woodsmen or farmers dared travel this route. Lorkhan Kyne had been attempting to keep a low profile for the last few days by getting as far away from the city as possible while still being able to play whatever game of chance was customary for the region sighed, his plan of waiting a few weeks for the slightly less burly man (Lorkhan had never caught his name, the circles with which he frequented positively swum in mead, and after a few hours of dice it was hard to keep track of anything) to lose interest in the money Lorkhan owed him. That plan was looking less and less likely, the more the less burly man stared him.

"Oi!" He called, rather unnecessarily across the now dead silent inn. "Come here, I needs to 'ave a word wiv' you"
Lorkhan sighed, slightly defeated looking, fishing for the dice he always kept in the small pouch around his neck.

"My good man!" He called back, putting on all his airs and graces as was his custom with greetings "Is there anything you are in dire need of? If so, I'll be more than happy to oblige with what little I have."
The less burly man looked slightly confused, Lorkhan supposed that kind of language wasn't acceptable in his childhood home.

"Stop mucking around, I need my money 'friend', otherwise you and me are gonna 'ave problems!"
Damn, this guy wasn't as stupid as he looked, even if it was a feeble trick. Lorkhan blew into his hand; he wasn't taking any chances with this guy.

"What seems to be the problem fr-" Lorkhan stopped as the less burly man grabbed him quite effortlessly and pinned him to the wall, knocking the wind out of him.

"My. Money. Now!" The less burly man growled through gritted teeth. Raising a fist and giving Lorkhan a prime opportunity. Without hesitation, Lorkhans boot flew out and kicked the man squarely in the crotch, doubling him over in pain and leaving him breathless. Before any of the mans' cronies joined the fray, Lorkhan threw his dice onto his nearby table, drawing his sword in the process. As the dice rolled, he closed his eyes and offered up a silent prayer to the God of Luck willing the dice to land on a four, a six, whatever as long as it was high.

As the Dice landed, he knew the result would be bad, he could already feel the energy draining out of him. Upon closer inspection, he cursed and discovered the dice had landed on a two. Not good. Especially with 6 Burly and ugly men closing down on him. He had to think of a plan, and fast.

"Gentlemen, I'm afraid I must take my leave!" He cried sweeping up his satchel and a chair in either hand. Shouldering his rucksack he hurled the chair through the window, shattering the dirty glass and flooding the room with sunlight. Before leaping head first out of the window, Lorkhan offered a small bow and a tip of his hat as a final insult to the men that almost surely would've beaten him to a pulp.

Somewhere, far off in the distance, Lorkhan heard a colossal roar. Feeling that the men would surely give up the chase once they heard the beast cry again he headed in that direction at full pelt, the inns' door being booted open moments after he vanished into the forest near wall of trees and bushes. Slowing down slightly he took a quick check of his surroundings, he could hear running water and more importantly, smell cooked food. This made up his mind for him, he jogged at a brisk pace towards what he could only assume was a campsite. Offering up another quick prayer that whoever was there would be friendly he emerged into a small clearing with a stream and three of the oddest travelling companions he had ever seen. Only they couldn't be travelling companions, one of them, a woman looked tense and on edge, there was a huge bear of a man with a jovial smile on his face regarding what could only be a monk from his lack of weapons in such a dangerous place. Deciding maybe it wasn't the best idea to get involved in with the situation, he backed off slowly. Forgetting the stream bed full of slippery rocks, where he proceeded to slip and bash his head on a rock caused a monumental splash in the process and knocking cold.

"Luck's just not with me today..." He sighed in his head before passing him out, leaving him at the mercy of the strange trio.

As the thin man turned around so that he could face her, his countenance changed into one of worry to a more jovial appearance. This didn’t ease Asteria’s anger at all and she felt the scowl creep across her lips before she could stop it. It was one thing for Lucis to treat her as if she wasn’t a real threat but for some stranger that hadn’t even taken a second glance at her? She glanced one more time at Lucis and saw that her companion was making odd gestures and grinning at her. Obviously, Lucis thought that this new man was all right, so she went to lower her bow.

Instead, the urge to show this stranger just how dangerous she could really be overtook her sensibilities and she glanced around quickly for a target. A good 300 yards away from where they stood Asteria saw a leaf falling off of the branch of an oak tree and she lifted her bow again, drew back the string and then let her arrow fly. From this far distance, the arrow pierced the leaf on its journey down and pinned it to the side of the very tree from which it was originally trying to leave.

“See that you don’t do anything that would require me to regret my decision not to shoot you.” With that, she turned, swung her bow back around her torso and grabbed her plate of food which Lucis had prepared for her. Her heart softened a bit as she saw that Lucis had added mushrooms to her dish and she ate quickly and quietly. Asteria's eyes flickered once or twice more to the stranger but she didn’t speak. She would let Lucis deal with him if he so chose.

When she was finally done with her meal, she stood and walked off without a word. She always washed her plate after Lucis had fixed the meal it was the least she could do to repay him. Upon approaching the stream, her eyebrow rose again as a body came into view, laying face up in the middle of the stream. Her frown deepened and she set the plate on the ground near the river before wading out until she was standing over the man. Cursing in her native language, she felt for a pulse and saw that he was breathing steadily. Placing her hand upon his shoulder she shook once, then once more with more force.

“Come to!” she murmured, smacking the gentleman lightly on the side of his face. “Where are all of these travelers coming from?!”

Lucis roared with laughter when the firm thwock of an arrow burying into wood resounded through the forest.
“True shot love, true shot!”
He had not seen what Asteria had aimed at – his view was blocked by erratic bushes and incredibly dense foliage – but Lucis had complete faith in his companion’s ability to make an effective threat. She had tried it on him, too, even though he had immediately seen her as the kind soul she was. Lucis laughter was renewed by the recollection. Asteria, for her part, quietly ate her breakfast. No words were necessary in this part of their partnership, and Lucis shot her a knowing wink.

When his partner left for the river, Lucis had only worked his way through about half the amount of meat required to properly wake him up. Though he knew it to be a nauseating amount for someone not his size, his body simply worked that way. When Lucis’ seventh steak navigated its way to its final destiny, trying not to completely douse the interfering beard in grease, rowdy shards of noise floated in on the dawning wind. Though curious, the voices Lucis picked up were too obviously spirit-addled for him to investigate. He had long ago given up on being a peacemaker among the violent drunk – which they had to be, to venture into this beautifully cruel forest.

Three steaks half-hanging out of his mouth, Lucis hastily gathered his supplies in his backpack.
“Hu shoo ghe ooo ‘ere ‘oo, hoo ‘ming wih’ u’?” he tried asking the red-haired pilgrim, who had still not given his name. He looked awfully unconcerned about the approaching mob, however. Lucis shrugged and reminded himself not all younger people needed to be looked out for. The branches and pebbles on the forest’s ground cracked and crunched – silence being a feat both impossible and unnecessary – as Lucis made his way to the river.

Instead of finding his companion washing the dishes, Lucis found her washing an unconscious man’s cheek with a distinct slapping stroke. He looked upon her tenderly as she tried to wake the unfamiliar man up, evidently worried by his unconsciousness. Or just impatient, Lucis considered, as he made his way down to the riverbed.
“What do we have here?
No – questions later. For now, we best disappear.
It seems some angry men are out on a chase,
Perhaps for this one, who seems to have fought the river with his face.”
Lucis took the passed-out man by his belt and effortlessly hoisted him onto his shoulder, drenching his clothes and caring little.
“Come on love, let us depart,
‘less you rather put fear in our chasers’ heart?”

Asteria had been trying rather unsuccessfully to awaken the unconscious man when Lucis came up behind her. Through his rhyming dialect, she understood that they were in some danger and should probably move on unless she felt like doing battle. “Where is the red-haired man?” she asked first, casting a glance back towards the campsite. Not that she would care one way or the other but if Lucis had liked him enough to let the monk travel with them then they shouldn't just leave him behind.

After pausing to allow her companion to respond, she continued and answered his query. A smile spreading across her tanned face at his deference to her opinion. She shook her head and stood up as Lucis hoisted the comatose man up over his own shoulder. “No. We should fight only when necessary. If they are in the woods then they are either unintelligent or drunk, neither of which would make for an honorable foe.” She sighed as she shook her wet hands in an attempt to dry them off then she turned to lead their now expanded group in the opposite direction of the forest. This tract of lane was still well inside her comfort zone and since she had grown up in the depths of the forest, the surrounding lands were also known to her. At least the lands encroaching upon the nearby towns were. Over the course of her life she had made several trips into the outlying farms and cities to trade goods such as animal hides, wooden weaponry and meats for things that her people could not readily create themselves like ceramics and steal and even pretty baubles like glass.

Remembering a trip from a couple of months ago, she recalled a grand city called Rasmorya that held all sorts of goods for sale and she turned to her companion to ask for his opinion. “Lucis, the city of Rasmorya…. Would you like to go there? They have most everything for sale if you need to purchase anything for our travels?” In the back of her mind, she was also wondering if they could find a few odd jobs to perform in the city since they were running low on money. Food and drink came easily enough, as did shelter, since neither of them required the nicest of lodgings but her torso-guard was dented and could use a simple repair which she could not correct on her own. She would need a blacksmith or someone of similar skill.

As they conversed, they crossed terrain that was mostly comprised of small hills and knee-high grasses. The only dangers in this area came from bandits or the poisonous Atiwa snakes that loved to lounge in the thickets that were scattered across the fields. They walked at an angle away from the forest and on the horizon one could see a small farmstead to their left and the tree line diminishing from view to their right.