20th of Fall, 518 A.V.
There was a noticeable difference between walking half armored and not armored at all. Steel sheets guarded his arms and legs by being tightly bound by buckles. It was not just the weight of it either that Kynier noticed, but the insulating warmth too. Damp sweat was saturating the clothing that was tightly pressed against his skin by his new steel shell. Wandering through the streets of the city, he felt how each step was heavier and the pull on his arms from the easy swing his hands performed as part of his stride. It would require some getting used to, though the mage found it difficult to imagine how warriors could tolerate being completely encased in steel.
Where he really noticed the difference was during the climb. The Dust Bed rested at the top of a ridge that overlooked the sea. Whether there was an official path to the place, Kynier didn’t know. He had only been there a few times before, and none of them had followed a road of any sort. The entrance he had chosen was one that the Ghost Hunter had shown him last season when they had a quick exchange of magic disciplines. It was another thing on his ever-growing agenda, it seemed. Practicing Spiritism so that he could comfortably defend himself from malignant spirits and apparitions.
The last time he had been to the Dust Bed, he had been possessed by one such spirit. The echo of a brute he never had the misfortune of meeting during his life but had heard more than a fair share of vile tales about. The experience had discouraged Kynier from returning to the Dust Bed, but this was not for personal reasons. Today’s visit was required for the job at hand. When he reached the crest of the ridge, he paused to catch his breath. His legs and feet were stiffening with the ache of exertion. No wonder why armored men were thickly muscled. Kynier suspected that if he peeled off the steel plates from his body that he would be so light that he could practically fly.
Fingers wiped away the sweat from his brow as he looked over the Dust Bed. Tombstones and rocks protruded from the ground over a vast field while sections of it were completely barren. There were a few people walking around the stones, seemingly with a purpose. Kynier was not sure where the bodies of the dead were piled, or how they were disposed of when brought here, so he approached someone that was walking between the stones of the dead. The man was holding a lantern that was not yet lit. Syna was still providing enough light for someone to safely walk through the unsteady grounds.
“Excuse me,” the mage called to the man to get his attention. The man was slightly older with the first patches of gray settling into his thinning hair. A pair of stern old browns turned on the mage as the man grunted in acknowledgement. “I’m looking for someone,” Kynier began as the man looked at him with mild disinterest. “But the man I’m looking for could be dead, and I wanted to check on the bodies that have been recently brought here.”
The older man huffed through his nose. “You wanna talk to Jeb,” he said as he turned away. Kynier had heard the name before, but that was all it was to him, a name.
“Who’s Jeb?” he asked. The older man glared at him over his shoulder. The look he had indicated that the thought Kynier was an imbecile.
“The big guy that embalms the bodies.” The man said no more and left Kynier where he was without direction to find Jeb. Kynier cast his eyes over the field of stones to try and identify a destination to where he might find this Jeb. Deeper into the fields he saw a few structures that could’ve been either crypts or buildings for the workers. Further east he knew was the tent that the Ghost Hunter and his Strider stayed. But he felt certain that Anja was more concerned with he ghosts of the dead rather than the disposal of their bodies. So, Kynier set off to make his way across the field, towards those structures that he saw on the western side.
NaNo Post: 721
Credit for the boxcode goes to Luminescence!
