Quest A Hunting We Will Go

[Razkar]

The day went and Razkar did not see the most of it. Riaris barely even heard the Myrian change position in his tent as he stood watch, so exhausted was the savage. He just laid on his side, weapons curled into his chest protectively, and let sleep claim him.

No dreams, though, or just none that he could remember. Just an endless void with whispers at the edge of it, shapes and fragments forgotten almost immediately after being glimpsed. A wolf-headed figure with golden eyes. Smiling brown eyes above a laughing smile that his heart ached to see again.

Things with wings. Scales. Rocks jammed into dusty flesh. Nightmare given form and energy from who-knew-what.

Razkar did not wait with a start, but he did wake to pain. Or ache, more accurately. His wounds had not opened but now every muscle seemed to groan and protest and petition against further movement. Six hours, had it been? Maybe seven? Not long enough, as far as his rebellious form was concerned.

Nevertheless, Razkar sat up and peered outside... finding the Akaak pensively looking into the fire and their perimeter alternately. The Myrian's stomach growled and without much in the way of ceremony he walked slowly to the Zith he had killed, drew his gladius-

Riaris turned sharply at the sound of metal on flesh and bone, saw one of the Zith's legs come away in the Myrian's hand. Utterly at ease, Razkar wandered to the fire and skewered his meal onto one of their stakes, positioning it over the flames... before finally gesturing to it, catching the Akalak's eye.

"Want some? Can have. Plenty for me. Or make from you own kill?"

He would have to wait for an answer to that. Perhaps the Akalak just wanted to sleep some more; he wouldn't blame him. But some impulse opened the Myrian's lips again, though when they did, his eyes were on the slowly roasting meat.

"Maybe make you face less... pinch. You sleep bad?"

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Riaris slowly stumped around the camping ground as he patrolled the area. It was a mess, flesh and dried blood everywhere and it smelled horribly. What a night it had been, as if the wilds itself had been dead set on claiming them both before dawn came. If the scouts had met with an evening like what they had just been through, the Akalak would already count them amongst the dead. The snarlwings were but pest, he knew this, but the Zith, they were something much more dangerous and if weak Akalak faced them, it was likely they were killed.

Zith..

He hated even the word, the name. The winged beast even in their calmest, mostly humane state would get nothing but fist and blade from him. It would be days before he would be able to forget the fight with the beast, and even though it was dead, he felt like slamming it around more. Finally, after pacing about Riairs found himself standing over the Zith that he had killed. The bugs had yet to get to it, but he knew that they were on their way to collect what they wanted and return the body into the soil as they always did.

"What a disgusting creature..."

The Akalak frowned and leaned down slapping the dead Zith across it's face. Suddenly a thought rose in his mind and he pulled his lakan from his belt. Riaris grabbed the head of the Zith and slowly began to carve the skin from the forehead and work his way down the jaw line. It took him time to do this, and he even had to start again more than once after the lakan sunk too deep into the facial tissues. But after some time and patience, Riaris pulled the face skin of the Zith off completely. It wasn't as good of a job as he had hoped, the bottom half around the chin and mouth were all but tattered, loose bits of skin.

"This will do good enough." he said lowly and stood up. Once he returned to the city, Riaris would have leather added as padding, along with straps so that he could make a mask out of it. What he planned to do with such a mask..only time would tell. The Akalak hid the face skin in his belongings on the back of his mount and returned to deal with the Zith's body. He recalled at that moment what Razkar had said and shook his head.

"Fair enough Myrian."

He dragged the body off and lost it in a set of bushes before returning to sit by the fire. "There, I hope you're happy." he said to Recoomas, being that it was he who wanted to use the face of the Zith for a mask. "I don't know what you are planning, but hear me now...do not make me regret this." There was silence for a moment, followed by a dark chuckle and nothing else. By this time Razkar had returned from his tent and sat down to feast on the Zith he had killed. Riaris stared at him with a blank expression, what was it with the Myrian and Recoomas wanting to carve up Zith? "No thank you.." he answered in a deep tone.

For some odd reason Razkar was attempting to start a conversation, this was new and it almost sounded like concern. But it made him wonder, was had the man saw while he was asleep for him to ask that question. In the past Nanali had asked the same thing of him after he had awoken to find her peeking at him from the doorway. "I slept fine.." he answered while starting to rub his knuckles. "Sometimes my Goddess likes to remind me what my true purpose is."

[Razkar]

Razkar smiled at the words but kept his eyes on the makeshift spit, keeping the limb turning as often as he could. Uneven roasting wasn't just sloppy, it was dangerous. It meant you were eating uncooked meat, and most times that was a quick way to the shits or worse.

Didn't hear you complain about a fresh heart, though.

"That sound like close to me." He said, absently flicking away a patch of flaming fur with his kukri. "But Myri-" his unconsciously brushed his fingertips against the eye-like tattoo on his forehead "-not need to be in dream. She is always here..."

The Myrian patted the back of his neck, though the Akalak could nod see the gnosis mark burned into the flesh there. Razkar eyed the big man warily, somewhat apprehensive around him, now that he knew... or suspected...

"Not mean offence," he asked, choosing his words carefully and making sure they were clear even through his guttural accent, "But Akalak, you have... two soul? Two soul in one body, yes? Why? Did you god make like that?"

The sizzling scent started to whiff more of smoke than meat, and the Myrian took the meat away from the fire. He carved up his meal with his kukri, awaiting the reply with interest...

He had to do something to kill the time, after all. It was early evening, they weren't going anywhere for the night, and he needed waking up for his watch. Conversation seemed the best idea.

"Wound on you back healing?" Once again, that surprised concern and Razkar rolled his eyes slightly. "No be shocked. You dead, you use to no man."

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Riaris listened and stiffed a chuckle as Razkar spoke of his own Goddess. It was easy to understand, most people regarded their Goddesses and Gods in the same matter, but Krysus was a very different type of divine being than most. She had been born from the death of another God, that in itself was very different. She also didn't seem to have, or care for the same type of wisdom that most Gods and Goddesses seemed too.

"My Goddess is very different than most, she has her ways, which are often hard to understand. She likes to...express herself, let's say. But make no mistake, Krysus is always with me."

Riaris chuckled from the question that Razkar asked. He was an interesting little man to be sure. From the start, he seemed like he didn't like Akalaks, and now he was curious about their souls. Still the question wasn't the type of thing that Akalaks talked about openly to those outside their race, but the Myrian seemed to know about his secret already.

"I would say it is safe to say that my father, and mother are responsible for it, but I can't say why. Wysar and Akajia are very mysterious beings to say the least. But I will give you this..It is said that my mother loved my father so much that it turned his skin dark." He added by lifting up his arms.

"Perhaps there is something in that to explain the twin souls of my brothers."

Riaris sat still, it seemed better not to move as much if he didn't want the wounds to reopen. He watched the man eat, thinking inwardly that this was the most they'd spoken since their trip started. Maybe it was the after sting of battle that put the man in such a good mood that he wanted to chat. A weak smile rose upon his lips when Razkar noticed the look on his face and retorted quickly. "My wounds are healing fine. It will take more than one Zith to take me down. What of you, how are your wounds fairing?"

[Razkar]

"I would say it is safe to say that my father, and mother are responsible for it, but I can't say why. Wysar and Akajia are very mysterious beings to say the least. But I will give you this.. It is said that my mother loved my father so much that it turned his skin dark. Perhaps there is something in that to explain the twin souls of my brothers."

Razkar frowned as he digested this, chewing the sizzling, gamey Zith meat thoughtfully. He knew that some of his race had voices in their heads, but that was a disease, a malady, not something granted by the gods... well, most of the time, anyway.

But to have such duality be an intrinsic part of your people? To walk around with a twin in your own soul? Well, that begged another question.

"Who is you brother?" He decided to leave out the fact he had seen flashes of this... other, that Riaris carried with him. "Your twin?"

"My wounds are healing fine. It will take more than one Zith to take me down. What of you, how are your wounds fairing?"

Razkar flexed his back and winced, doing another quick inventory of his wounds. The slashes on his chest and arm were the most serious, but now the bleeding had stopped, he had only the joy of stitching to look forward to. Wonderful. His shoulder and collarbone was just one massive bruise but, well, he had a spare, didn't he?

The Myrian smirked and nodded. "I will live. Not dead yet..."

He waited again for an answer, turning that name over and over in his head. Krysus. That was what Riaris had called his goddess. But what about this... Wysar and... what was it... Akajia? They were his mother and father, he said, yet he chose another? Razkar couldn't understand it. It would be like a Myrian renouncing the Goddess-Queen to choose... well, anything!

Then he thought of Wolf, and wondered. But, no, she still loved Myri and was loyal to her, but her duty as a Witch of The Wilds was to Caiyha. His eyes flickered back to Riaris, his cruell, glowering face not lessened by his injuries.

One to watch, this male. Have to find out more about these barbarian gods, too...

[Riaris Dovukalis]

"Recoomas.." he said while staring directly into the eyes of the man seated across from him. "He is my brother, my..other-self. We are very different in ways, and in others we are very similar. If you'd think of brothers, even friend who are close to each other you'd see the same kind of familiarity between them."

He had to admit, the Myrian didn't look as dumb struck as he'd thought he might after he started to speak of the twin souls. It was obvious now that the man must have spent a lot of time around other Akalaks to learn of the little he knew, and also to know enough that he didn't seem as surprised by what he heard.

It could be hard to understand the nature of the Akalak, it could be hard to understand the nature of Riaris and Recoomas, but that was mainly due to the fact that people always tried to compare them to themselves or others that they knew. There was a side to him that enjoyed family, being with people he loved, and also loving women. There was his need to work out and keep his body in peek shape, and there was something else. There was a side to him that enjoyed pain and even more to cause it upon others. These traits were somewhat evenly measured between the two men, while one soul may take more to one trait as the other would to his own liking.

His dark and light side had nothing to do with his nature of being good and evil, they were both beast in their own right, lovers in their own way, warriors for their own causes, and above all they were protectors. "I wouldn't expect you to understand it clearly, but we are what we are."

He gave the man a nod as he addressed his own concern at the wounds inflicted by the Zith and snarlwings. "Good, I'm sure you'll be back to normal and chopping off heads soon enough."

[Razkar]

Razkar understood every word, but the meaning behind them was still... alien. So much he did not understand about these barbarian people, though long he had spent in their shining city. He'd always thought that their duality was... more metaphorical than literal.

Perhaps it is good and evil? Or... fettered and unfettered? One for the priests and scholars back home, I suppose...

The Akalak seemed to voice his thoughts exactly and he shrugged, taking another hunk out of the meat dripping on the edge of his kukri. The Zith was proving to be a fine meal, and once he'd cooked up the other two limbs, he wouldn't have to subsist on those ungodly rations.

"Good, I'm sure you'll be back to normal and chopping off heads soon enough."

There was a bark, something like laughter, the Akalak realized, and the Myrian flashed those filed teeth again, head bobbing. "It does settle question, no? No more head, no more problem..."

And that reminded him, too. He licked his fingers clean and walked stiffly to his tent, carefully taking the Zith scalp off the top. It had hours to dry and now it was tender, soft but... ready. Or as ready as it would get.

The Myrian sat back down and laid out his cloak across his lap. Using the same sewing kit as he would to stitch up his wounds later, he began to sew the fresh, dark scalp onto his Cloak of Fallen. Yet another trophy...

"You can sleep." He said, not taking his eyes off his work. It was delicate, knowing not to stitch too close to the rim and avoid tearing a hole, but not go to close to the center and leave loose skin flapping. "My turn to make watch. Night coming." His eyes flicked up, seeing that Syna had vanished already beyond the grass. "Will keep fire bright..."

Riaris saw the Myrian's mouth move as he worked, slowly and surely, what seemed to be the same words over and over.

Blessed is Myri, Goddess-Queen and Mother of all... glory to her in gift of flesh and victory...

[Traverse]

OOCSo I just wanted to scream...CHECKPOINT. Let's get you patched up and back at it shall we?

Keep it to one post in between mine, at least for now, and nicely done so far guys!

She was tired...oh so tired, but it would do no good to stop now, and the elegant cream Sungold beneath her was far from the end of her energy. The grass flew past rider and mount as lavender eyes scanned the land before her.

Where were they?

The two warriors, wounded and tired, getting their fair share of rest, were slightly off their day three meeting spot. To think the two outriders were dead made the female atop her mount shudder...but no, the reports flowing in of the Zith had said that they had put all into the main body...few were traversing outwards. They were alive and she would find them.

-----

Patience whickered. It began as a snorting call, low and not unusual for a horse, but only a moment later turned into a loud braying neigh, almost like a canine calling out to a fellow across the yard.

Several chimes later a form appeared distantly over the grass, galloping towards them on horse back. The nearer she came the more clear it was that the frame atop the elegant Sungold was quite feminine in nature. Long nearly white blonde locks whipped around her pale skin like a halo, and a form clearly adept at riding leaned over her mount's shoulders, no tack or harness needed.

A smile lit the Konti's face as she glimpsed the horses, and then two figures around a small fire. It narrowed to concern to see the bloody scene, stamped grass, and numerous injuries both men held, but that could be dealt with in time.

She saw their faces, shrouded with caution and questions, and even before the gelding had stopped moving the Konti performed a graceful dismount, landing softly upon the grass and crossing the space between the two warriors and herself in the briefest of instants.

She was short, only about 5' 3", slim and almost wiry, the slight curves of her body exposed with leather riding pants and a tight fitting blouse. Light purple eyes held a gem owner's appraisal as she examined the two males, and a very distinctive facial tattoo that crawled down her neck revealed the Konti as one marked more than once by Rak'keli's healing hands.

"My name is Linoa, and you must be the outriders sent to scope the borders of the attack." Eyes flickered towards the partially demolished corpse of Razkar's Zith. "Seems you found some scouts of your own."

She straightened. "I am here to lead you back to the main forces...but first, these injuries..."

She did not ask or warn, and approached Razkar first, a hand sliding over his shoulder, which was purple and black from the foot of his opponent, deep gashes where claws had pierced flesh. The markings upon Linoa's face and neck suddenly seemed to glow beneath her skin, and suddenly Razkar would be faced with a strange sensation prickling against his skin. Cooling reflief would slowly flood his body as skin began to sew itself up, seemingly of its own accord. The bruise changed from black green to the normal deep tan of his flesh, and one by one, the wounds began to right themselves. It was a strange invasion this magic which flowed through him, but it was a gentle and kind process, one that kept the patient in mind.

"Have you encountered any others?" Linoa directed this question at Riaris, and it was clear this Konti was all business.

x

[Razkar]

Razkar was awake by the time Patience had started her keening, desperate warning. Sensing another mount nearby not not recognizing the scent of it. The Myrian did not care either way, warrior instinct kicking in, hauling himself out of his tent using his weapons as crutches, ax and gladius already filling his hands.

The Akalak was on watch and was already standing, gritting his teeth against the pain of his healing wounds, lakan in each hand, both men staring towards the rustling and snorting ahead of them... hidden but approaching...

Until the white-haired female burst forth on a golden horse and dismounted without a care.

Razkar frowned. Something familiar about her. That unnaturally white hair, the pale skin, the eyes... and that tattoo. Where had he seen that before? Flashes of a chaotic night just above Riverfall returned to him, bidden from memory and laced with other screaming, assaulting Zith, falling under the blades and bows and magecraft of... Sanctuary, wasn't it?

Is this one of the Hand Healers?

"My name is Linoa, and you must be the outriders sent to scope the borders of the attack. Seems you found some scouts of your own."

Razkar did not answer out of rudeness, but out of simple pragmatism. She wasn't asking questions, she was stating facts, and if she was all the way out here she wasn't interested in swapping soldier chatter. He just nodded curtly and kept studying her. Yes, he was sure...

"I am here to lead you back to the main forces...but first, these injuries..."

Razkar braced himself, for he knew what was coming the moment the healer's hands started to glow. His suspicions were confirmed and memories of that same night came back, that strange and beautiful woman who'd put her glowing hands on his savage wounds, and...

He gritted his teeth as the flesh re-knitted under his bandages, the bruises paled and vanished, and even the exhaustion and fatigue his body groaned under faded away like morning mist as the sun rose. By the time Liona took her hands away, Razkar was standing straight and strong and grinning with his sharpened teeth...

"Now that," he said lowly in his own tongue, flexing fresh, healed muscles and hefting his weapons, "is something I should look into..."

"Have you encountered any others?"

He glanced over and found the Konti talking and tending to the Akalak, looking ridiculously small next to his purple hulk but healing those ugly lacerations as if they were nothing. Knowing his words were not needed for now, Razkar turned on his heel - and damned if it didn't feel good to be able to do that without wincing! - and made for his tent, packing it up as fast as he could and heaving it all on Trikken.

Meet up the the rest, he thought, eyes dancing suddenly as he realized what that meant, so we can hit the main group...

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Still on watch, Riaris stood tall and stared into the opening and beyond. As long as he stood in place, the aches and pains weren't as bad and he could even feel the tingling of the muck he applied soothing his wounds a bit. There was a peaceful calm now, and the Akalak stood silent and allowed his thoughts to drift away and his mind to clear. For the time at least, the curse of Krysus had been satisfied, but upon the new day he would be called to satisfy that urge again, if only to stay his own suffering.

Luckily their trip wasn't over yet and there would be others to destroy in the name of his Goddess and for the glory of the Akalak himself. The sound of the horses was enough to get his attention, and Riaris slipped his lakan free and held it at his side just in case. He scanned the area, but saw nothing at first, until the Myrian came stumbling out of his tent as if something had bitten him. Riaris glared at him with an questionable look before turning back around.

That's when he saw her, a lovely beauty arriving on horse back, long blonde hair flowing in the winds, and bright purple eyes sparkling with the flare of a Konti. Riaris licked his lips and breathed in deeply. Already he could hear Recoomas chuckling as his thought were spoken. "Now look at this, you kill one Zith and suddenly the Konti are rushing to pat your wounds? What a lucky Akalak you are Riaris..lucky indeed." Riaris scoffed at this, Recoomas knew more than anyone that Riaris didn't believe in luck, and he surely didn't think so much of him self as to believe that the woman was coming just for him.

However, it did beg the question of why she was coming. But none of this would stop Recoomas in his teasing, being that he wanted a reaction out of his brother. "If only it had been her sent out to hunt with us instead of the Myrian. Haha, Riaris...can you imagine the amount of plowing that would have taken place? Never mind the Zith, that woman would have had a hard enough time keeping you at bay." he finished with a sinister chuckle.

"Silent, I won't hear of your taunting any longer. I'm very curious to see who this woman is and why she is out here. No one said anything about a Konti being a scout. Is she a healer riding with the main camp, or perhaps looking for the lost scouts that we have yet to find?"

Riaris fell silent as she came closer and listened to what she said. It seems that he was right and she was with the main camp, though why she was called away to come and find them was another question. He had to wonder if something had happened, had the scouts returned? Had word been had of their deaths or of his and Razkars lost? Riaris ignored her question completely and instead moved closer so that she could heal him next.

"What news have you from the main camp? We were sent here to meet with scouts but so far all we have found were animals corpses and Zith. We had assumed them lost and were heading to join up with the main group soon enough."