[The Bronze Wood] First Time for Everything (Sturlin)

by **Eris** on June 5th, 2010, 2:41 am

“I suppose I’ll collect my payment and take a break for a while. This job promises to pay well and if everything works out, I’ll be rewarded with a few weeks’ vacation,” she said, looking over the trees with a wistful expression, “I might actually have some time to sketch.” These trees would make good subjects – stoic and majestic and with the light hitting them just the right way.

She chewed on the inside of her lip as she watched Sturlin forge through the forest. His walking speed was slow and watching the beads of sweat roll down his head, it became obvious to Eris that the man was in pain. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and blurted out, “Are you alright? If you’re having trouble walking, you could lean on Rhine – she’s quite sturdy and will take some of the strain off your legs.” She felt that he might be more comfortable leaning on a horse than on a stranger with a dagger at her belt.

by **Sturlin** on June 5th, 2010, 6:52 pm

"That sounds pleasant. I have never had any talent for art." He continued to walk forward in stubborn silence for a few moments after her offer, but then he gave her a small smile and moved over to put his hand on the horse's shoulder. "Thank you for the offer. And thank you Rhine."

With the assistance of the horse he was able to manage more easily, but it was still slow going. This was offset by his knowledge of the area. Within the span of one bell they found themselves nearing a stream. "My camp is beyond this stream a ways. It is not far now. Do you need to replenish your water supply?" As he asked this he carefully knelt next to the water, dipping his hands into it.

by **Eris** on June 5th, 2010, 7:52 pm

She smiled silently, glad that the man had accepted her offer. Rhine didn’t seem to mind in the least and walked along as calmly as ever.

“I suppose I should,” she muttered, digging in her satchel for her flask. She screwed open the top and noticed ruefully just how little water she had left. Truly, if he hadn’t reminded her, she might have very well missed the opportunity. I have grown too used to the city… She knelt down on the edge of the stream, filling up the flask to the brink. Before she returned it to her bag, she splashed some water on her face. As she swept her hand over her forehead to wipe away excess water, she felt as if layers of grime were being washed off her face. The strain of a long journey dissipated and she straightened up feeling pleasantly refreshed.

by **Sturlin** on June 7th, 2010, 5:11 pm

The magician waiting for Eris to replenish her water, not pausing to do so himself. He could come back and do it once its supply had run a little lower. For now he followed her example by splashing water onto his face and neck. Wringing his hands within the stream he cleaned them of some dirt and grime that had accumulated over the day.

Once she was finished he stood, with effort, and put his hand on Rhine's shoulder again. Together they crossed the stream and he resumed leading Eris toward his camp. "I hope you will forgive me for the state of my camp, as you can imagine we do not get guests often. How long do you plan to rest before you set off in search of your prey once more?"

by **Eris** on June 8th, 2010, 12:33 am

“Not long, I imagine. Just enough to get my head back in order. I fear my senses have grown a bit clouded during the course of the day,” she said, her feet splashing in the shallow water.

Suddenly, something occurred to her. “You said ‘we’ and you mentioned a friend earlier. Would you mind telling me who this friend is?” A rather discomforting idea had popped up in Eris’s mind. She met very few people in these parts and the majority of the ones she did meet were either targets or enemies. It would be quite embarrassing if Sturlin’s friend ended up being one of the aforementioned.

by **Sturlin** on June 8th, 2010, 11:45 pm

He hesitated for a moment, but the expression on his face showed immediately that he was unsure why he had hesitated. "I share a camp with Mister Pickles. And Francis. No reason to worry. Francis is docile. Mister Pickles..." He had been about to call the cat friendly, but he realized that the cat was no longer as friendly as he had once been.

Ever since the accident the temperament of the cat seemed to feed off of Sturlin's on temperament. Fortunately he was in a good mood today. Hopefully that meant that Mister Pickles would also be disposed toward charitable action where Eris was concerned. The only way to tell would be to approach the camp and introduce them.

Which is what would happen shortly after they entered the grove. Lifting his hand, he pointed to the campsite ahead. There were no humanoids in sight.

by **Eris** on June 8th, 2010, 11:53 pm

“Mister – Mister Pickles?” Eris stuttered, giving Sturlin a befuddled sidelong glance. Who would call themselves Mister Pickles? Of all the outrageous names she has heard, this probably fell in the top five. A better question would be why Sturlin was sharing his camp with someone named Mister Pickles. And did he say Francis was docile? Could a man be described as docile?

As they entered the grove, Eris was ready to greet someone. She had pictured two men waiting at the campsite – Francis and this Mister Pickles. But there was nobody there. Rhine whined cheerfully, nudging Eris in the small of her back. The horse was almost pushing Eris forward, clearly happy about something. So far, Eris had no idea what that could be. She strained her eyes to try and distinguish any human forms at the camp, but to no avail.

“So …uh… where are Francis and Mister Pickles?” she asked, feeling as if she was missing something extremely obvious.

by **Sturlin** on June 9th, 2010, 12:02 am

Mister Pickles was in a fine mood today. Taking flight from the trees he flapped luminous wings of golden feathers as he glided toward the ground. His chin lifted as he imperiously examined the intruder to his camp. As he landed the wings folded into his back and disappeared entirely. "She is most attractive Sturlin. Will you be clapping her in irons? Entertainment for the lonely nights, you know. I'm sure you wouldn't object to a slave with red hair. I know its your favorite."

Reality :

Sturlin cleared his throat, glancing to Eris and blushing slightly for what appeared to be no reason. "Mister Pickles. Meet Cherry. Cherry. Meet Mister Pickles. Francis is over there." The hunter pointed toward a chestnut Stallion grazing behind the tent nearby. This camp was clearly the camp of a hunter, and no one would be able to guess by looks alone that a magician lived here. As did the location where Eris found him, this camp looked immaculate and orderly.

by **Eris** on June 9th, 2010, 3:18 am

Eris frowned slightly as she noticed the blush creep across Sturlin’s cared skin. She might’ve asked him what was going on if it wasn’t for the animal that had suddenly appeared at her feet. It looked like a cat… Most cats she had seen were furry, but this one had the ears and the tail… And it walked like a cat… So, it must be a cat. And if it was a cat, that meant Eris liked it.

“Ah…Mister Pickles is a cat,” she muttered as the creature approached her. “That certainly explains a lot.”

“Hi there, Mister Pickles,” she cooed, crouching down next to the animal. She hesitantly brushed her fingers over the animal’s head. It felt wrinkly and smooth at the same time. As a matter of fact, the cat reminded her of Sturlin in a way. Sure, the man was much bigger and bulkier that Mister Pickles, but there was just something really similar about the two of them. “Aren’t you adorable?”

She sincerely hoped she’d never have to kill Sturlin, because there was no way he would ever take her seriously as an assassin after this display. She had a weakness for animals. Granted, she didn’t spend much time around any animals besides Rhine, but she knew she usually liked them more than people.

When Sturlin mentioned the horse’s name, Eris looked up, nodding politely in the horse’s direction. Now, it was clear what Rhine was so excited about. The mare snorted playfully, prancing a little closer to Francis. She stopped a few feet away from the other horse, lowering her head gracefully to the ground. Either the mare was playing hard to get or she just found the grass more fascinating than the stallion.

by **Sturlin** on June 11th, 2010, 5:14 pm

Mr. Pickles arched his back and purred, warming up to Eris immediately. With an earsplitting grin on his bald cat face he looked to Sturlin. "Talented hands. You picked a good one here, old friend. Maybe later we could talk her into giving each of us a belly rub. You get seconds though, I call dibs on the first go 'round" As the cat continued to purr he moved closer so that he could rub his jawline against Eris' outstretched fingers.

Reality :

Sturlin continued to blush at the lecherous insinuations his friend made with each passing moment. As the hunter walked painfully slowly toward his tent, he reached inside and produced another skin of liquid. "Thought I might have something a bit stronger. To Drink. Not sure if you want any. Since you're working. Up to you. Just wine."

As Sturlin stood there awkwardly, suddenly thrown off his rhythm by the purring ball of wrinkly pink perversion which was cuddling up to Eris, Francis had different things on his mind. He tossed his mane and walked over to investigate her more thoroughly. Francis, unlike Sturlin, had no reason to feel shy at all. If hanky panky were not in Eris' plans for the mare then she would likely need to break it up pretty soon.