Threading the Peaks [Solo]

[Emeric]

Summer 12th, 511AV Location: Travelling to Lhavit from Alvadas In his mind he estimated it to be somewhere just past the ninth bell, but during these long journeys he often lose track of time. The monotonous clip, clop, clip, clop of the horse he was riding would often lull Emeric into deep thought. Beside him rode another mercenary, much older and in the employ of their mutual benefactor for almost twenty years. Jasper was a giant of a man, world weary and quietly content. He’d been with the Acre Caravan since it’s founding, although until recently Emeric had next to no contact with him. “Play some music.” He growled, to which Emeric offered a small nod. He reached around and begun to unstrap the lyre on his back, the horse beneath him however had other ideas and began to veer wildly to the left. The pinto creature shook and shuddered in its attempts to dislodge Emeric but he swiftly swung himself back into position and yanked the reigns. The horse fell into step, unhappily, with Jasper. “Never behaves,” muttered Emeric. Jasper laughed, “No wonder, boy. You’re literally killing its back! Who the hell taught you to ride?” “Me.” Emeric replied frankly. “Aye, it shows. You’re riding forward, like there’s no saddle, sit back a bit, loosen yer grip on the reigns.” Emeric did as instructed, shuffling backwards onto the broader part of the saddle. “Aye, that’s it boy. Must have bollocks of steel to have been sitting on the pommel…” Jasper laughed again. “This feels… strange.” Emeric remarked. “Hell if it doesn’t! You act like you’ve never used a saddle in your life. Open up your legs as well.” Jasper critically appraised the young man beside him. “Aye, that’ll just about do it. Keep sitting like that and yer arse might not fall off.” Almost immediately the horse seemed happier, responding quickly to his directions. Jasper gave him a sanguine nod and resumed riding. Emeric appreciated the silence, as he focused on using the saddle properly, lining his knees up in the correct position. He recalled to just a few days past, when he was still in the company of Gregory Acre, the eldest son who had spent the previous eighteen months by Emeric’s side watching, waiting for what he perceived to be the inevitable betrayal. Gregory could talk for days, and Emeric reflected somewhat bitterly that he had never told him how badly he was riding. Whether that was a reflection of his dislike of Emeric, or his ignorance on such matters was another matter entirely. It was Gregory who had insisted that Emeric not buy his own horse, but rather ride the old, painted horse who had served the family longer even than Jasper. And once again he found himself gripping the reigns too tightly as the horse had begun to get irritable, snorting and shaking its head. He quickly opened his hands and let the reigns slide forward. Even the basics require focus, he thought, patting the horse on the neck and whispering some measure of reassuring sounds into its ear.

[Emeric]

The pair had ridden on in relative silence for a good while, the shadows of the mountains were retreating as the Sun moved directly overhead and Emeric could really feel the still, warm air. It was times like these that he considered leaving the leather armour off, but he need only glance at any of his other travelling companions to see them all suited up. Always wary of the dangers for merchants on the road. A good fifty yards ahead he spied the riders surrounding the main carts, shifting uncomfortably as they too felt the heat of the sun. “Now you’re sitting right, boy, how about that music I promised me?” Jasper flashed Emeric a toothy grin. Making sure he was sitting squarely on the seat of the saddle he began to reach around to unstrap the simple instrument from his back. Carefully clutching the underside with one hand, he tinkered with the strings before carefully plucking away. It was a simple tune, never using more than two strings at once and moving slowly with the same cadence of the old mare he was riding. Progressing upwards from the thicker strings, which produced a long, low note, he tried to remember the melody. The first he’d ever learnt, taught to him by the near blind cook, in the kitchen of his master’s house in Ravok. “Well that’s about as depressing as you can get,” huffed Jasper. He looked despairingly at Emeric, “Don’t you know anything cheerier?” Emeric shook his head. “S’a damn shame, that. My mother was a singer, back in Syliras; she’d always sing this one song… Well I don’t remember much of it, but I remember the tune…” The great man looked away sadly, and for a short time there was only the sound of hooves crunching on the dirt and rocks beneath them. And then he started humming. Surprisingly high pitched, Jasper held the note with aplomb. Hmm hmmmmm hmm hmmmmmmm hmm, it wasn’t so much happy, more triumphant, Emeric thought. As he listened, it evoked images of an ancient battle finished, of people piecing there lives back together, of survival. In the deep recesses of his mind it awoke something, a recent memory of his escape from Ravok. Deeper, within his mind there was an artefact of a memory – another escape… But that was all Emeric could fathom. Subconsciously Emeric’s fingers had been lightly plucking at the strings, attempting to match the sounds coming from the man beside him. With a renewed focus he brought the lyre closer to his ear and tried to replicate the tune. He plucked away, trying to fathom the rhythm of the thing. Eventually it dawned on him that it was a repeating tune, with only a fifteen second or so pattern before looping round. He managed to stay in tune for three seconds before losing his place, but patiently waited for the tune to repeat. Jasper was now looking at him with guarded curiosity, all the while his cracked lips were held firmly together as he hummed through his greying beard. Emeric picked up the tune again, and managed to keep up for almost ten seconds this time but once again lost it. “I can go slower, if you like. Me Ma used to sing it slower too, I liked it most though when she sang it like this… meant she was happy…” Jasper quirked a little smile into the air just ahead of him, as if he had been transported back to his childhood again and was watching his mother sing. Emeric carefully guided his fingers along the thinnest strings, much easier now that Jasper had slowed down. With each different note Emeric plucked the corresponding string, following the older mans lead he managed to get through a single verse without making any errors. Jasper stopped humming and motioned for Emeric to continue. “Aye, that’s it. Wish I could remember the words though, it was my favourite…” “Why?” Emeric asked, with his attention split for the tiniest moment he fumbled on the string and had to start from the beginning. Jasper chuckled. “I… don’t know really. I think I liked it because she liked it so much, when she was in the tavern’s she’d sing it last. It was a crowd pleaser, made everyone happy. Rhaus, I can’t even remember the name of the damn song!” Emeric studied Jasper’s features as he talked, noticing his expression flitting between the happiness of the memory and the sadness at it being so long ago. Even with the thick beard Emeric could tell Jasper was smiling, it was in the eyes – the glassy hue, and bunched up wrinkles. He allowed himself a small smile; the feelings of goodwill radiating from his companion were refreshing and a welcome change. Emeric couldn’t help but be curious “I… don’t mean to intrude, but… if I may: Where are your family now?” He looked directly at Jasper, his face stony but sincere. All the while softly strumming on the lyre, each time becoming a little better with Jasper’s tune. “I… lost contact with them after me Ma died. Went off to try and kill something, expel some of that anger and just… never came back.” He looked over to Emeric and cast a searching gaze over the younger man. “Guess you wouldn’t know what it’s like, being a slave ‘n all, but those days when I was young and the family was together… You ever get that kind of happiness, boy. You don’t let it go. Don’t let it go.” Emeric watched as the smile faded from Jasper’s face, to be replaced with such a melancholy that he couldn’t even perceive the kind of feelings raging through the old mercenary. Instead he renewed his focus on playing the lyre, playing the tune which he’d always refer to simply as Jasper.

[Emeric]

Summer 12th, 511AV - Evening The caravan was unloading when Emeric returned with Jasper, their ranging of the road and sparse woodland behind them had turned up no surprises. Emeric looked up to see a clear sky, the moon peaking over the tip of the mountain off to the southwest. It was casting a pearly glow over the valley that they had been travelling through, eerily quiet except for the crackle of the fire that the men at the camp had got going. “Leth’s balls, it’s still too bloody hot.” Jasper grumbled, following Emeric’s gaze to the enigmatic ball in the sky. Emeric was reminded of a time long ago, peering out the window at the top of his prison in Ravok. The moon was blood red and fiercer than he’d ever seen it. They rode onwards, Emeric still focusing on sitting correctly on the saddle, giving the reigns enough slack. They pulled into the camp. Emeric swung out of the saddle, and felt his foot catch on the stirrup. He fell with a dull thud. Jasper strode over to the young man, pulling his foot free from the disgruntled horse. The tingle of embarrassment was already spreading through his cheeks. “Nobody saw, boy. Get up.” Emeric leapt up as quickly as his body would allow. “You forget you had these things,” he said, motioning toward the stirrups, “Or you just didn’t know what they were?” Jasper laughed at him again. Emeric was getting a little tired of the giant’s condescending chuckles, but appreciated that he could learn from the older man. “Untangle your feet, then think about dismounting next time.” “They’ve only just got the fire going; food will be a while off. And I hear Gregory’s preparing it so it’ll taste like Kelvic piss. Come, follow me – I’m gonna teach you how to use that hunk of metal strapped to your back. Work up an appetite before you eat.” He strode off, to the other side of where the horses had been tethered. “I know how to use it.” Emeric stated, all the while quietly glad that he didn’t have to ask the man for instruction as he’d been intending. As he walked by, he noticed one of the young Acre boys brushing down his horse, placing one hand reassuringly on the animal’s neck. His other hand travelling along the body of the animal in careful, measured strokes – a fluid movement. “No, you don’t.” Jasper finally replied, spinning on his heel he looked directly. “When that lynx jumped you outside of Alvadas, what did you do?” “I killed it!” Emeric replied, with shorter shrift than he was accustomed to giving. He immediately regretted his tone, with this man who he liked and respected. “Ha! Not at first, not with the falchion. You swung it blindly like a farmer with his scythe.” “And then I killed it.” Emeric said - calmer than before. He instantly recalled the frantic moment when the giant, black cat leapt and took him off his horse – inches away from his throat with only his arm in the way. The sharp teeth had bore deep into the night leather that covered his arm. He worked on instinct, pulling the knife out of its strap and lodging the blade deep inside the animal’s eye. All just a few miles west of Alvadas. “It got too close. Now, Mr. Acre saw the whole thing and wants me to teach you how to hold that blade when death comes knocking for you. A leaving present, if you will.” “He told you?” Emeric asked. He had hoped that he would be able to slip away quietly once they reached Lhavit, they wouldn't have even noticed until they had finished trading and were back on the road. Jasper nodded sagely, his entire body looking much more imposing as he slipped into teacher mode. “I’ve taught all the Acre kids to fight, but they all use longswords like me. What you’ve got is a little different.” Emeric pulled the blade from the harness across his back, a falchion. A long, slender blade with a slight curve, perfect for slashing out at opponents. The end of the blade, however, tapered into a point – to pierce. That was the theory, and the sales pitch Emeric had received from the over zealous merchant. “Prepare to fight me.” Jasper commanded, Emeric complied, opening his legs and holding the blade with two hands in front of him. “Wrong.” Jasper said, striding over to Emeric and delivering a swift kick to his left boot. He lost is balance immediately and staggered to the left. Jasper’s hand went to his shoulder, pushing it back. “Side on, less of a target.” He grabbed his knee and yanked it forward, “put your weight on the balls of your feet. Hold your sword up, across your chest.” Jasper looked him up and down, “Right, now bend your knees,” Emeric complied, “more, more… more. Good.” “Well at least you look like you can fight, should make people think twice before kicking your arse.” He chuckled. “Right, hold that pose. I’m going to go and get some food, and when I come back I expect you to be in exactly the same place. If you’ve moved, and I’ll know, then I’ll eat your dinner too.” Jasper didn’t wait for a reply from Emeric and strode back past the horses toward the rest of the camp. Already he could feel his calves burning with the effort. I hope he’s a fast eater, Emeric thought absently. One of the horses snorted, but they might well have been laughing at him for all he knew.

[Emeric]

Summer 13th, 511AV His legs felt numb as the caravan got underway again. Jasper and Emeric were scouting ahead of the main group – which meant that they had to leave the track every five minutes to look in a group of trees or behind a convenient rock. Jasper chastised him for leading the horse by reigns and started showing Emeric how to use his feet to direct the animal. All the while a wry grin shone through his beard at how long he’d left Emeric the night before. He was a very slow eater. But even now he could hear Jasper’s mantra running through his head. First you learn to stand, then you learn to step, then you learn to kill. He had his sword in his hand, holding it up as he rode. It served the dual purpose of making himself more comfortable with the feel of the blade, and forcing him to try and maintain control of the horse with only one hand. Another of Jasper’s bright training ideas. They were almost out of their current valley, the mountain slopes to either side flattening out. Far ahead of him, Emeric could just about make up the end of the valley – expanding into one of the larger expanses of flat land in the mountain range. Jasper was chatting along happily. “…reckon we’ll camp just before the plateau and then drive the horses real hard the next day to get through in one. Aye, that’d be the sensible plan. No way we’d wanna camp out in the open like that, just dirt and rocks as far as the eye can see…” Jasper was idly fingering the pommel of his sword, as his head jerked around constantly – taking in everything. He glanced at Emeric. “Open your legs,” He growled. Emeric adjusted his position again in the saddle. Once again the pair lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Emeric cast his eyes around him, following seams of rock upward to the towering peaks above. Even after four weeks of travelling through the same scenery Emeric couldn’t help but be astounded at the scale of the range. They had spent six days alone passing between these two mountains, which Jasper had mentioned were some of the smallest in the Unforgiving. Far to the north, he said, where the Isur made there home, there were vast mountains which would stretch up as far as the eye could see. Lhavit was their destination, Emeric had heard from some of the merchants in Alvadas that it was built so high into the mountain that even the clouds were beneath it. He was intrigued by the idea. “I’d say we’ve another seven or eight days before we hit Lhavit.” From nowhere Jasper had pulled a roughly drawn map and was pointing at a a valley slightly west of the centre. His finger moved along, between a mountain and a lake and veered south-west before stopping just short of the sea. “That’ll be the route we’re taking, never gone this way before but the bandit attacks were getting more intense along the old paths.” They were passing by another small group of trees and bushes when he heard the noise, the crunch of twigs. He jumped in his saddle and held the sword with renewed purpose, Jasper just laughed. “It’s probably just a wild dog or something, go check it out.” Emeric kicked gently into the horse’s side and began to veer off the path, meandering past the first few trees and entering into another clearing at the foot of the slope. There was a large boulder in the centre and a slight rustle coming from behind it. The horse and rider circled the boulder cautiously and suddenly he knew exactly what was behind there, the smell gave it away and the first sight of a bare foot told Emeric all he needed to know. “Jasper!” He called, circling warily. More and more bodies came into view, piled haphazardly upon one another. He counted seven, but there may have been more with the way the limbs were tangled. Behind him Jasper and his horse lumbered into view, the pair of them dismounted and approached the corpses. Jasper unsheathed his sword and delicately plucked at the neck of one of the poor men, lifting it to reveal a medallion. “Merchants,” he said. “How do you know?” “This medallion, given to merchants by the Isur.” He replied, lifting the medallion off the body. Emeric saw an image, a two wheeled cart, engraved onto the piece of copper. Upon the slope there were great, black feathered birds watching the exchange. Emeric figured they were what he’d heard. Their heads crooked to the side when he looked up, almost with impatience at the pair of riders having disturbed their breakfast. “Come on, boy,” Jasper said, swinging back up into his saddle, “need to go tell the others, we can expect an attack soon.”

[Emeric]

Summer 13th, 511AV The Sun was beginning to slip below the horizon, casting great shadows on the entire caravan as they plunged across the expanse of land, toward the imposing spectre of their final mountain. Nobody spoke; even the horses remained quiet as they galloped forward. A few of the guards rode with their bows out, arrows already notched and strings pulled taut. The grey mare Emeric rode was even behaving itself, despite his clumsy tugs on the reigns and constantly shifting posture as he tried to seat himself properly. The wind was dry and still, but at the speed they were travelling it still buffeted his face every time he looked up from the hood of his cloak. Around him, the other riders had fashioned face-masks from scarves and scrap cloth. Every so often a bird would take off, or a small rock would fall to the ground and the necks of everyone would snap in the direction. Eyes narrow, scanning the horizon for the danger they all knew was out there. They were making their way around the mountain, to a less travelled path next to a lake. The Acre caravans and riders were in a tight formation as they got to the foot of the mountain. “Jasper, Emeric, stay here for a few minutes – in these rocks. Make sure no-ones following us, and catch up as you start to lose sight. We’re gonna have to slow down for a bit, the draught horses are tiring.” Mr. Acre said, his face drawn in a grim fashion. “Aye, sir.” Jasper replied. Emeric nodded curtly, kicking the side of the mare and veering to a rocky outcrop which they could hide in. The two pulled up beside each other and cast their eyes back across the plain. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Emeric couldn’t even find any trace of the animals that he had seen on the earlier parts of their journey. Glancing backwards to the main group and they were already shrinking into the distance, and moving around the mountain – soon to be hidden by its curvature. “Where are they?” Emeric asked. “Not here.” And then they heard the scream. As one, the pair kicked their horses into action. The horses sensed the urgency and galloped towards the rising screams and shouts, the clash of steel rang across the mountainside. Jasper’s horse was built for speed and he was soon pulling away. Emeric was struggling to stay seated on the mare as it pounded across the rough, rocky ground. The caravan pulled into view, with masked attackers dressed in greys and browns pulling the Acre men off their horses. The draught horses were cut free from the trade carts. Emeric unsheathed his sword and held it out from the horse as he approached, Jasper was already in the midst of the brawl swinging his great sword with fierce strength. He honed in on the nearest bandit, leading the horse towards the masked man and preparing to strike. And then he fell, the horse screaming in agony and collapsing forward. Emeric was thrown over the top and only had seconds to notice the crossbow bolt lodged in the horse’s neck. Blood already flooding the ground and rapidly approaching. Another Acre man fell in front of him, the attacked pulling his blade from the body and turning on Emeric. He stood up quickly, settling into the pose that Jasper had taught him – trying desperately to mask the fear flooding through his body. The bandit approached slowly, swinging the short blade menacingly. Emeric held still, the falchion in his hand deathly still and crossing his torso. The bandit lunged. The blade’s clashed; the bandit’s aimed directly into his stomach. Emeric stepped aside, pushing the shortsword away and putting the bandit off balance. A horse galloped by, throwing dust between the combatants. Emeric sensed his chance, stepping into the dust cloud and slashing strongly and deeply, feeling contact. He coughed and felt his eyes watering, but slowly his vision cleared to see the bandit writhing on the ground. Emeric kicked the mans blade away, and placed the point of the falchion over the man’s heart. He pushed, and the man stopped moving. Looking up he could see even more of the grey clad bandits had appeared, and they were winning. The horse from before was circling back around – a horse he recognised, but now being ridden by a bandit swinging a hammer wildly. Emeric shifted his weight to his backfoot and prepared to meet the man galloping towards him, not yet realising that dismounting a horseman was completely different to duelling. The thoughts didn’t have a chance to register, however, as the hammer crashed into his chest and sent him to the ground. --- He awoke barely an hour later, the body of another guard lying across him. Emeric pushed the man off, Hugh, was his name as far as Emeric could remember. Rising unsteadily to his feet he found himself struggling to breathe, a sharp pain spread across his chest. Casting his eyes around him, there wasn’t any movement – six horses lay dead, the rest presumably stolen. And the bodies of all the men he’d known since escaping Ravok. A renewed pain in his chest, but not from his injuries. The carts were gone, thousands of gold mizas worth of goods, which explained to him why the weapons had been left. High above the skies were beginning to populate with birds, looking to cash in on an easy meal. Then he saw Jasper, the giant reduced to a heap on the ground – almost unrecognisable but for his size, and his beard. His sword lay off to the side, caked in blood, and all around him were the bodies of bandits left behind. He went out fighting, Emeric thought, knowing Jasper would have wanted to die this way. A rustle from above, Emeric spun around – holding his blade out. The seconds ticked by. Nothing emerged, but he knew it wasn’t safe to stay. The pressing need to escape took over in his mind, shutting out the thoughts and feelings which were beginning to overwhelm him. Almost unthinkingly his hands passed over Jasper’s body, stopping at a single pocket and pulling out a bloodied and ripped map. He took a long study of it, determining what direction to go and setting off. Wiping his blade clean as he passed another bandit’s body, he sheathed it. And then he put his head down and started walking, to Lhavit. Fin.

[Mercury]

Emeric Skill(s) Musical Instrument: Lyre + 2 XP Riding: Horse + 3 XP Observation + 2 XP Weapon: Falchion + 3 XP Lore(s) Autopilot Mode Proper Riding Stance Musical Accompaniment (Basic) NPC Jasper's Past (Basic) Jasper's Song Fighting Stance (Basic) Journey to Lhavit Scent: Corpses Attacked by Bandits Robbed Senseless Indomitable Spirit (Basic) Method to my Madness: AHAHAHA. Loved the horse bit. The lore Jasper's song is not just a lore but an actual 'tune' that you can now play from memory. Good job sucking at riding a horse - takes a great writer to make a character they love bumble about, properly. Great thread; I can't wait to read more about Emeric. You can address any questions or concerns to the little voice in your head. A.K.A. PM me.