PM to join Ruinous Ruins Reunion (Cait)

[Archibal]

<<Time Stamp - 513, Spring, 10th>>

"By the gods, I hate this heat."

Arch wasn't speaking to anyone in general, sometimes he just liked to complain. He isn't looking for sympathy or anything, not that his guard would care. The looming shadow of the heavy set mercenary was always within sight. The young archaeologist was hoping that with the change of guards he might get someone a little less....wall like. Not that he cared much, Arch was perfectly happy being quiet and keeping to himself. It's been his bread and butter for many years now.

He wasn't too worried about the blistering heat of the desert. He was well clothed for the occasion and had his cloak wrapped nicely around his head and body preventing any excessive exposure to sunlight. He had also learned during his travels that early spring was an ideal time to travel in the desert due to cooler tempuatures. If Arch hadn't been living in Ahnatep city for several years now he would have found the idea that it could get hotter as ludicrous.

This expedition was one of the rare situations in which he left his home in Ahnatep. He was particularly excited about this sojourn as it was a set of ruins they haven't been fully explored, or documented. Most of it was top side, crumbling walls littered the surroundings hinting at a fairly large village long lost. Abandoned wells were scattered showing signs of the long gone populace struggling to survive. There were many signs that showed this village thrived at one time but no more.

The guard and Arch were the only two in this section but they were part of a slightly larger group of twenty. Arch hasn't really ventured to meet everyone and with the exception of the lead archaeologist in charge of this dig he didn't even know anyone's name. On the way here he spent most of the time talking with the leader of this operation, mainly to just pick his brain, but also to learn more about what they were searching for. As a result, during the brief trip out here, he hasn't even met all the people. Anyone in the back he hasn't even seen their faces. As it was just a couple mercenaries and Epyharian helpers to lug supplies he didn't really think he lost much.

He would hear his guard call out to someone and realized that his new chaperon must have arrived. He didn't look up at the newcomer, not because he was rude but rather he was too engrossed with carefully digging up a very fine piece of pottery he had discovered here. It looked to be intact too, it was still mostly buried in the sand but he was carefully brushing the sand away to uncover the ornate designs and swirling patterns that adorned it.

[Cait Scarlett Frostfawn]

It was hot, blasted hot in the depths of the rolling desert. Cait had been born to the jagged hills of the north, not to the searing heat of Eyktol. Still the young mercenary had spent the last six months in the area, serving as a simple guard for hire. At the very best she was slowly acclimating to the extreme temperature. Her gray eyes were set ahead, focused on the scattering of ruins that lay exposed across the sands. The archeological party was arrayed around the perimeter of what must have once been a thriving settlement. The dig team themselves were dispersed through the structures, however Cait had already been instructed where her charge would be for the next several hours. Booted feet crunched against the sand and mud brick pathways as the guard passed into the shadow of the abandoned ruin. As the woman rounded a corner a grisly behemoth of a man called out to her. He was another of the hired guards escorting the expedition; his impressive girth was only overshadowed by his grisly face. Still he was a friendly enough fellow once you became familiar with him. The guard lumbered toward Cait, briefly illuminating the corner where one of the archaeologists kneeled over a shard of pottery. “Oi, Scarlett.” The guard snorted appreciatively before shuffling past her toward the tents. “He’s all yours.” Cait proffered a faint nod and the twitch of a smile. “Get some rest Jarrek.” She said quietly, her common tongue tinged with a slight northern accent. The guard grunted his affirmation before turning out of sight. The Vantha came to a halt a few yards behind the cloaked archaeologist, crossing her arms before settling in for her shift. The heat continued to beat down on the dig site, Cait rested her shoulder against a dust laden wall. Gray eyes drifted away from her charge and his relentless scratching at the surface of a piece of pottery. The woman frowned faintly at his silence before giving her typical line of dialogue at the start of a guard shift. “Let me know if you need anything.” She said evenly, the words lacking any sort enthusiasm, sounding much like a tedious requirement that she had only grudgingly obliged.

[Archibal]

Instinctively, Arch just waved her off. "Nah, I'm alright. Thank you." He was still very focused on his work. It didn't occur to him that they had similar accents. He didn't even register that she was a she. His attention was on the vase and some of the pictures depicted upon it. He was able to extract the object now that he had confirmed it was sturdy enough to move.

Most digs, he only finds shards or fragments. It was rare to find a whole object. It had some interesting pictures upon too. He was anxious to try and figure out what they mean but that would require heading back to the main site instead of this off shoot site. They were far enough away that they couldn't see the rest of the expedition. Hench, Archibal had his own guard.

He wanted to look around a bit more before heading back but for now he carefully placed the vase in a secured spot where he had the rest of his gear. He was thirsty and was going to have some water but discovered he was out. He turned to face his new guard for the first time to ask for some water, "Actually, I could use some wa... ter..."

The look of surprise he had when he turned around would be hard to miss. Open jaw, wide eyes and a dumbfounded look completed the facade. He was looking at someone from his past, but it was impossible. Why would she be here all ghetto way from the north? This was about as far from Avanthal as one could get. What was the chances of a Vanthaian being here? Let alone his personal friend?

These thoughts raced through his mind and he realized he must be suffering from heat stroke or something similar to cause such a hallucination. He would shake he his and rub his eyes as if trying to get dirt out of them. He would look again and blink a couple times, normally a person might just suspect it was theirs but Arch wasn't used to good things happening and he has a terrible tendency to over think things all the time. Overthinking was a problem he has had ever since childhood too, it was normally the source of many of his woes. In fact, if not for the person he thought this lady was he doubted he would of made it far at all.

"I think I'm having heat stroke...cause you look like someone I once knew...but that can't be."

[Cait Scarlett Frostfawn]

The wind was producing an audible hiss against the ruins, slowly increasing into brief gusts. Cait caught a few strands of hair and neatly returned them to their proper place. The archaeologist shrugged off her words as the woman had expected. As a simple guard, few ever engaged you in conversation, still at the very least the fellow responded kindly enough. The Vantha leaned her shoulder in to rest against a dust strewn wall, leaning ever so slightly to negate some of her weight off her feet. Tilting her head Cait caught only a hint of the young scholar’s face. The curve of the jawline and placement of the brow seemed distantly familiar, however she brushed away the sensation of dejavu like and irritating insect. Still, the dim flash of memory was tinged with the scent of freshly fallen snow and the bright ringing of laughter. The recollection came with an abrupt and unexpected sting, her storm gray eyes edging themselves in the dark stain of indigo. Nenkasai Archibal was long gone, either lost to the wilderness on one of his parents expeditions, or so far traveled that she had no hope of locating her childhood friend in her lifetime. Regardless, she had given up on him many years ago. Cait stiffened, blinking in the blinding sunlight as her eyes deepened once again to an iron gray, only the faintest flecks of indigo and green dotting the edge of her iris. She was shaken from her inner dialogue as the dull clank of the pottery being set down upon the mud bricked floor sounded. The guard eyed him warily as Arch bent down to drink from his water-skin. Abruptly he froze, his jaw going lax while his eyes flared. Cait moved back half a step, partly because her charge was staring her down like she had grown a second head, and partly because he looked more and more familiar by the second. His eyes were a brilliant green color, a hue of such potency that rationally could only be found in Vanthan blood. Then he spoke and Cait felt a tremor inch up her spine, her breath knotting up in her chest; the sensation feeling very much as though this was nothing but a hazy dream fueled by the desert heat. Cait stepped back once again, her mouth partially open in disbelief. Wordlessly her mind toiled away at what faced her. This man with the brilliant green eyes, his onyx hair with a subtle green sheen; the cut of his chin and jawline sluggishly drawing together in her mind into the small boy she had known so very long ago. It was though a painter had taken that child and carefully swept away the much softer childlike features and given him sharper, more substantial bone structure and form. Although they stood in the searing heat of a desert, Cait felt chilled to her very core, the familiarity was eerie and gut wrenching. Softly she spoke, the hardened visage she had crafted as Cait Scarlett; mercenary and metaphorical sword for hire slid away like a veil. “Arch…” Cait murmured.

[Archibal]

"Cait...but how?"

This was certainly an unexpected reunion for Arch. He has been spending so much time trying to isolate himself back in the city that he wasn't quiet sure how to react. Seeing Cait Frostfawn again after so long was something he wished he could have done ages ago. If not for happened to his parents he might have ended up back in Avanthal.

His friend had aged in near perfect symmetry with her younger self. Even her hair style was similar to when he last saw her. She may have gained experience as a mercenary, perhaps even a bit of it reflected in her posture and frame, but she was the one person Arch could identify on site.

He couldn't help himself, he approached to give her a hug if she allowed. He has been on his own for so long it was most relieving to see a friendly face. Let alone the fact of seeing her again. He needs an ally, a friend, he needs someone to trust. There certainly wasn't anyone he trusted in Ahnatep.

It was right then, during the hug, that a distressed yell reached through the windy air. The voice distinctly belonged to the previous guard that had been with Arch earlier. It sounded far away but it was an unmistakable cry of distress. Jarrek had apparently found some trouble.

[Cait Scarlett Frostfawn]

They embraced, tentatively at first before the realization dawned that the two childhood friends had indeed found each other once again. A damp vivid blue stained Cait’s eyes, having found her best friend after all this time. However the moment was not to last as a ragged scream pierced the arid wind, echoing harshly among the crags of the ruined settlement. Cait stiffened then, her gaze becoming awash in greens and golds. The immediate and primitive fear quickly subsiding as she suddenly released her hold on Arch. The woman turned to face the direction of the expeditions encampment, standing between Archibal and the sound of the cry. Muscles tensed as another blast of warm , sand flecked air tore past them. “Get down.” Cait spoke with a cold surety, keeping her eyes fixed on the sandstone path that Jarrek had disappeared down before she blindly placed a hand on her friends shoulder and applied a slight pressure to direct him further back into cover. Several dire scenarios shot through the mercenary’s consciousness, perhaps the expedition had been sought out by some raiding party, or even more unlikely attacked by some foul beasts. Her muscles tensed, a faint crackle of her Djed coiled in her chest like a snake preparing to strike; her willpower carefully taking hold of the energy as best she could. She was still precarious in her control of the Flux; her mentor had only known so much after all. However, despite the skill simply needed to use the magic in the first place, the most important thing was to know when to stop using it. Cait was always wary of using the magic, because overuse of it could leave you with dislocated shoulders and a broken wrist, as it had once done to her. ‘Still’ she thought to herself, with her friend to her back. ‘Some risks are worth taking’ Cait turned her head to the side, her left eye catching Arch’s in a sideways glance. When she spoke her whisper was wreathed in frost. Though he was her friend, he was also contractually under her protection. “Keep down and stay quiet.” She whispered before turning back to the corner of the wall they were pressed against. Wordlessly Cait took a step forward, away from Arch, before peering around the corner down the bricked path back to camp. She had two options at this very moment. The first was to stay with Archibal and find the most defendable structure in the ruins, or leave her friend to hide on his own and scout ahead for whatever was beyond the wall. Her instinct was to do the latter. Cait was a woman of action, not for hiding down a hole like a scared rabbit. Again she glanced back at Archibal, her choice hanging in the balance.

[Archibal]

As interruptions go, a yell of distress goes a long way for disrupting a pair of good friends meeting again after a long time. Cait was quick to react and pushed Arch back down. Luckily, this was near his gear that he had stacked next to a wall from some long decayed stone house.

As Cait peered around the corner, Arch started packing everything he brought with him. He didn't want to leave anything behind so he hastily placed everything in his pack. This was mainly a set of tools and items for archaeology and a few notebooks. Lastly, he grabbed a crossbow that he took with him for protection which was next to his backpack. He loaded a bolt into it and pulled the crossbow latch back arming it.

The only thing he didn't have was the vase. He didn't want to leave it so he held it under one arm protectivly while holding the now armed crossbow in the other. The extra bolts were in the pack. It wasn't the best way to carry his weaponry but he wasn't going to prevent this vase behind. If Cait asked he would just have to explain that it was important.

Having commanded him to stay low, Cait had looked down the way the previous mercenary went. It wasn't hard for her to see what was going on. It looked like a band of raiders had moved in while the guards switched. As the archaeology group had only a small set of mercenaries to protect them it wasn't difficult for the raiders to capture most. There didn't appear to be anyone killed but a couple of the mercenaries looked pretty beat up.

There was about twelve or so raiders involved but that was double the mercenary count. The majority of the raiders were keeping watch over the group while a pair was hauling the lead professor off the ghetto side where a set of ruined walls stood. Oddly, no one was chained but rather all were being held captive via sword point and some trained archers. The majority the raiders seemed to have four or more arms although the three archers did not.

Most if the archaeologists seemed to be in the center of the raiders only four members seemed to be missing. The professor was being lead off, Cait and Arch were currently hidden having been far off the main site and concealed by buildings, that left only one other missing person. Whoever was the fourth would have to wait though as a pair of the bandits was heading towards Cait and Arch's location. The pair of thugs were moving at a slow pace as if unconcerned. They seemed to be very confident, no doubt because they have so thoroughly subdued the expedition.

Arch couldn't see what Cait could so after she was silent for awhile he spoke up. "What's going on?" He spoke very quietly so that there was minimal chance of being overheard. He could see the concern in his friend's eyes it made him fret even more as his memories of Cait tended to portray he as strong and confident. It was a bit unnerving to see her hesitating.

[Cait Scarlett Frostfawn]

Cait impulsively bit her lip as her breath caught in her throat, time slowed to a crawl as the acrid tang of blood alighted on her tongue. The miniscule bite of incandescent pain sharpened her senses, adrenaline abruptly flashing through her veins. She eased back from the edge of the wall, tilting her head down to catch Arch in the gaze of a single golden eye. “Raiders.” The Vanthan said in response, her voice a smooth whisper; fingers flexing impatiently within her leather gloves at the thought of what was going to happen next. In a frighteningly unconcerned voice Cait eased her head around the brick structure again. “And two of them are headed our way.” The mercenary positioned herself, her back flat against the bricks, settling into a well-practiced stance, with her weight equally distributed across both of her feet; she would require stability for this next bit. The woman slowed her breathing, increasing the depth of her breaths and the length between them to bring about a pleasant rhythm betwixt her heart and lungs. Mindful of her last failure when utilizing the magic, Cait gently began swaying her own Djed, using the cadence that she building between breaths and beats to guide the potentially volatile energy into a cyclical flow between her torso and legs. “Be ready to run…” She spoke lowly, the barest hint of anxiety laced within her voice. As the shuffle of footsteps against sand began to grow like a counter drumbeat to her own internal pulse of Djed, the Vanthan acted. It always seemed to leave her breathless when using the Flux, rending energy from one part of her body to enhance another. Under normal circumstances Cait would not rush into a foray with the magic already active, but she needed to either incapacitate or stun the first of the bandits with the initial blow. Though they were evenly matched in numbers, her friend had never been much of a fighter from what she remembered of Arch. As it was, Cait perceived herself as was very much alone in this fight. Her only advantage was that she had something that was worth protecting. Sinew and muscle flexed sharply as the two raiders reached the alcove that the two friends were hidden within. The one closest to Cait was the obvious target, the woman snapping her right leg up in a sharp kick to the invader’s throat, and more importantly his windpipe. From her waist down along her legs, fire raced through the veins of her thighs and calves, having delivered a third of her available Djed to her supporting leg and the rest to the striking muscles of her other. From what she knew of the Flux, it was much like a campfire, comforting and helpful when applied evenly, but invariably damaging when kept in one place for too long. Cait was wordless as she allowed her waist the natural swiveling motion required for the attack, now thinking ahead for where she would move next should this move quickly fell the first of their enemies. (I’ll let you decide of the attack lands since you are RPing the npc bandits.)