20th Day of Summer, 516AV The Wildlands, along the border between Sylira and Taldera You will never find it, you will never find her. Hopeless. The whispers of ghosts and demons drifted from the shadows of his soul, where he had exiled them long ago. Yet they were never truly banished, and as weeks had turned into months, the voices slipped from their hiding, waxing louder. Doubt sought to shred his resolve, to sap his energy and steal his faith. It was in those moments that Abashai halted in his tracks and leaned down to pluck the dagger and its sheath from his boot. Calloused fingers would trace the designs stamped into the worn leather by a caring hand. For a man who's soul had endured countless existences, the day that Nya had made that sheath and given it to him sometimes seemed as distant as one of those long lost lives. Yet to that memory, its tangible proof of in his hand, Abashai clung. And to many other memories, good memories. When he clutched that weathered embossed sheath and its dagger, Nya was real again, and the cursed whisperers slid back into the dark places of his being to hold their peace. Abashai sought her, needing to find her. Though every bond they had entered together was broken, and even the tie of Unity had grown silent with years and miles, he still felt the void in his being that Nya once filled. It had been many days since Abashai had parted ways with his traveling companions, three trappers and their stubborn donkey. Abashai had joined their company at the Evantide Outpost after picking up a few supplies in Syliras and hoping against hope to hear tales of a giant Talderian Cat stalking the forests. The Benshiran had left them on the Kabrin Road as he hiked into the wilderness, seeking for something he had never been able to find, even with Nya. It was the only place he could think of to find her, or word of her. Their old cave in the Bronze Woods was empty. Matilda in Syliras did not know of her whereabouts. So, Abashai sought her birthplace and home of her parents, Lormar Tower. They had tried to find it together, once, but failed. Instead, they ventured too close to Ravok. That is when their end began. Another day had passed, the sun deepening in hue as it set, the light filtering through the canopy of leaves overhead. Earlier, Abashai had come across a long lost cistern, crumbling and nearly choked full of vines and thistles, but no sign of Lormar. Another fruitless day. Camp was always meager, his tent set not far from a small stream. Abashai had yet to start a fire, wishing first to see if he could snag some fresh game to supplement his broth, dried meat and apples. His hunting skills were meager at best, but he was able to occasionally bring down a small animal. With a supplication to Yahal lifted to the sky, Abashai took up his bow and quiver, tucked the rabbit snare in his belt and headed out. Just as Nya had taught him, he tracked down a likely rabbit path through the underbrush. Finding a spry sapling, Shai bent it low and tied the snare to it. Fashioning a catch from a stick, he set the snare. Noting the snare's location by several unique trees, Abashai slipped the bow from his shoulder. Drawing an arrow, he set it to the string and began to seek some quarry. Items purchased :
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