[The Road] They always need help on the Road. (Open)

[Faylon Kwanda]

52nd of Summer, 511AV [Beginning his day much as he had the last after Faylon had eaten his breakfast he left the small dwelling he still shared with his father, whenever he was in Denval, and went outside into the town for a morning jog. Not unlike previous days he jogged a prearranged route that lead with the streets of Denval and all the way down to the docks where he could take a short break before turning around and jogging the reverse of his route. His legs burned and muscles bulged as he ran through Denval and by the time he’d reach the docks he was leaning over briefly and taking a few deep breaths. When he was younger Faylon pushed himself to the limit to increase his stamina often and while he maintained what he had built he challenged himself less often than he had. It showed too as he stood straight, lifting his legs and giving them a shake one at a time before planting them back down, but it didn’t take him to long to recover.] [As he stood there on the docks Faylon would lament to himself how much Denval had changed since he was younger, he frequently saw new people coming to the town and every year the Road seemed to have expanded a few kilometres. Gazing out across the open sea though Faylon would take a deep breath, stretching his arms to either side of himself, while twisting back and forth and then he’d turn around and start back the way he came. His legs already tense from the jog to the docks exerted themselves further and he could feel them begin to burn a little bit easier than they had when he ran to the docks. The way back was always just a little bit harder. Doubly so today since he was not going to his small familial home.] [Jogging through the streets of Denval Faylon would instead move outside of the town and along a well travelled road that often seen use by miners, labourers and the occasional geologist. He was heading towards the breach in the rubble surrounding Denval known as the Road which had been under construction for as long as he was alive and could remember. On the way there Faylon could be seen throwing a few jabs out in front of himself along with a combination or two. Jag, hook. Straight right, cross. Just simple combinations as he liked to practice his boxing a bit while exercising and it never hurt to build his repertoire further. While not an expert in the sport everyone in the town knew Faylon was an avid boxer and could be found watching or participating whenever a match occurred.] [By the time the Road was within sight Faylon had worked up a small sweat jogging and throwing out a few combinations in front of himself as he moved. He’d pause as he neared the outskirts of the Road where he was approached by a labourer that looked like he might be a local foreman while catching his breath, the man would come over to Faylon and say...”Come to help? Good. We can always use more strong arms on the wall. Why don’t you grab a pick and start chipping away at some of the rock up ahead with the others.”...prompting Faylon to straighten himself and smile before replying...”That’s why I’m here. Always happy to help with the great escape boss.”...and then he was off, moving past the foreman and down the road which had already been carved in the rubble.] [On the way Faylon would take a Pick Axe from a pile of equipment that he’d seen, likely set aside for anyone that needed something of the sort, and lifting it in his arms he’d balance it over his shoulder and carry it with him. He was walking awhile, further down the road to progress, before he could hear the sounds of men working on the rubble of the wall and clearing it away. When her finally saw the wall that the road lead towards he had to pause for a moment just to take it all in but when that passed he approached and took up a position in an area that seemed to have scant men working on it at the moment.] [Without hesitation he’d life the Pick Axe when he found a mark and begin swing it up over his head and down into the rock to start chipping away at it. Faylon really hadn’t ever used a Pick Axe but it wasn’t difficult to get the hang of. He understood that he was swinging the pick into stone so that it could loosen and chip away at the rock, then men with wheel barrows could cart away the rubble that was produced, it was tedious work but as the old saying went –They always need help on the Road- because with no one to assist then Denval never had any chance to reach Sultros.] [One thing Faylon did enjoy about the Road was that there were always people to meet. It was always looking for more bodies to help its progress and you just never knew who you’d see...]

[Faylon Kwanda]

[Working out on the Road was hard. Even if the weather was cold a man could break a sweat in minutes after swinging pick or shovel. Breaking stone with only the tools in your hands and determination made your muscles bulge and your body ache after awhile. Anyone working on the pile of rubble up to the edge of the road had a sheen of sweat covering their brow or they weren’t really working, the faces changed often as workers came and went, but around Denval the call for labourers and specialists to work out on the great escape always went out. Dare to say that some considered this the greatest aspiration in the world at the moment, it would likely take generations before the people of Denval reached their destination.] [Bringing his Pick Axe down onto a pile of rubble and rock to bust it up Faylon stopped and reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow. He had been working for hours now without rest but he was determined to bust apart this last pile of rock before taking a break. His Pick Axe came up again, over his head, and then down into the stone he had been working at one more time. Success at last he thought as he broke away more of the rock before a third strike from the Pick Axe finally broke it apart further. Splitting the rock into two that a wheel barrow could then cart off elsewhere so that the rock could be broken down further. Inch by inch the road was extending.] [Leaning on his Pick Axe Faylon balanced the tool with his right arm while taking a breath before looking over his shoulder and then retreating away from the work when he saw a bit of shade beneath a rocky outcropping. Moving towards the shade he’d settle down out of the way, his Pick Axe leaning against the rock, while sweat dripped from his brow. His shirt was stained with perspiration after working out in the open for so long and even though it wasn’t more than a warm day the exertion of his body had caused his internal core to heat up. When a boy came by with a bucket of water and cloth, offering it to him, Faylon was quick to accept and took the cloth.] [Ringing the cloth out he’d wipe his face, refreshing himself, and wipe away the collective of dirt and dust that had begun to settle over his brow. Breathing then he’d soak the cloth again before lifting it over his head and twisting it so that the water it had absorbed would run down over his face and down the back of his neck. Then Faylon would thank the boy and hand the cloth back to his before watching as he carried on to the next worker that was relaxing in the distance. Faylon left alone with his thoughts would stare ahead at the mass of rubble that Miners and Labourers worked on ceaselessly and asked himself if he would ever see the road completed in his life time. I think so he eventually told himself though in the back of his mind he might have also said that he would be an old man when it was done.] [After resting for another ten chimes Faylon would climb back onto his feet and take his Pick Axe, slinging it over his shoulder, before moving towards a group of men that were working on a larger rock that had come close when the miners were scraping ahead. Injecting himself into their group with no complaints Faylon would add one more Pick Axe chipping away at the large piece of rock; they developed a method where they all swung in tandem so one Pick was always coming down while another was lifting. It was like watching a circular domino effect.] [Tedious work as was described beforehand. There was definitely nothing glamorous about the mundane work done on the road but every able bodied man or woman could help and no one was ever turned down in this endeavour. Faylon himself would stay the entire day and do what he could to aid the endeavour just a little bit. He could already imagine his body down to his bones aching in the morning from all the work.] [When the large rock that all the men had been working on started to crack until breaking in two a short lived cheer went up amongst the men. Then just like that as others came forward to start carting off the rubble the men who had worked together broke off amongst themselves to work on the rubble once more. Faylon himself returning to the rubble and rock so that he could begin chipping away at the stone again as the sounds of picks striking the stone went up all around him.] [It was maybe the early afternoon and they had all the rest of the day ahead of them.]

[Talen Stirling]

Such an average day was envigorating in a way, it was the kind of day where you did what you were supposed to, everything went the way it should and then you relaxed after a job well-done. Or at least so Talen thought it'd turn out as he went out after breakfast carrying sword, shield and armour for morning training and then off for Duty at the "End" of The Road. A relative thing, since it was always moving further away, a realisation that caused both great humour and dismay amongst those assigned duty there. He pulled the shield from his back - The grip was in two parts; a wooden half-circle fitted for his arm and a handle just next to it that he gripped firmly with his hand. He pulled out the longsword carefully from it's sheath, the familiar weight and rough handle feeling comfortable and familiar. He started out with practicing basic attacks, deflecting blows with quick twists or shoves that sent the opponent off-balance for a counterattack, and using the shield to hold off the opponents weapon and attack. It wasn't a harsh workout, the theory was the most important and rather than speed through the motions he made them slowly in order to perfect the technique and the motions. He smiled, as he practiced the "Shield Jab", suddenly blocking a blow with the sword in close distance and jabbing the steel edge of the shield into an opponents face. It was brutal but efficient, and many men in the course of time had fallen to the surprisingly powerful and dangerous blow of a heavy shield. He was no expert in the art, but practicing using the shield offensively was something he found to be exciting more so than thinking of it as a stationary wall for him to hide behind. It was important to remember that the shield on it's own would never save you, it had to be kept in a stable stance and have the full strength of his arm and body behind it. Blocking a blow was not just taking the force, but sending it back or to the side in what direction you wished. He practiced stepping into blows to shove his opponent off-balance, as well as sending them glancing off the shield and into thin air or the ground. He began a wild series of attacks with the blade, stepping forward while using the shield as a wall he kept moving closer to a hypothetical opponent. Attacking from different angles and hitting hard he stepped closer slowly, and then suddenly noticed the sun had moved considerably and he had to be on guard within not too long. Muttering a curse about the punctuality of the goddess of time herself, he walked out his small garden and tied the shield on his back and sword at his side, and began a jog towards the outskirts of town. He steadied his breath, yet his legs ached as he ran along the road and the weight of his equipment weighed him down. The road was good for running, it wasn't soft and he didn't sink yet it was a long way and although the weather wasn't hot it was hot enough to cause him to sweat already as he made his way across the barren landscape. He had to stop for a breath of air after a while, his lungs were burning and his legs felt like stones. The road was long already, yet there was still an even longer way to go. He hefted his equipment and started walking, resting his legs a minute before resuming his run. He didn't have amazing endurance, but he'd probably make it in time for his duty. Shortly after turning in on the current dig site, which had moved several meters since he was last here, he put his sword and shield to rest nearby, shed his armour and was granted a pickaxe by a foreman. Duty at The Road was made even more harsh by the custom of having a single man scouting for threats and the others working - though perhaps abit lighter to avoid weariness - in the quarry alongside the miners and volunteers. He quickly worked some warmth into his body, yet paced himself abit. The Dig was rarely under any threat but he didn't feel like over-excerting himself. He focused on trying to hit well and get a few rocks loose, break joints and fissures rather than break through with sheer force. Whenever he moved, his wooden symbol of Priskil jumped merrily on his chest to the beating of the pickaxe. Seeing a group form, he walked up and took up position next to a man he thought he recognised from his youth. He was bulky and a little taller than Talen. If he didn't remember wrong, he was also a boxer and had once beaten him up for throwing mud at him on a dare as a kid. He'd hit the older boy in the mouth and was then hunted down and punished shortly afterwards. His thoughts were disturbed as a miner suggested they work in unison; in the group Talen worked as hard as anyone, though his arm ached to keep up with the more experienced and stronger men. He cheered as the rock came down, and then walked up next to the man who's name he'd forgotten and asked him a question as he resumed work. "Say friend, what's your name? I think I saw you box a couple of times, good to see you don't only hit faces well."

[Faylon Kwanda]

[Alongside the other workers Faylon didn’t notice a new face instantaneously, focusing on his work he was primarily concerned with the rise and fall of the Pick Axe he held, but upon hearing a voice address him he would set his tool down momentarily and turn to look at the man who was talking to him. He thought he might have seen him before around Denval, something about him made Faylon look at him as though he were a native of the town, and he had the vaguest recollection that he may have recognized him from his youth. It was difficult for Faylon to keep all the names and faces straight in his head because he had left Denval several times over the last few years and travelled as far Zeltiva but for whatever reason he always seemed to return and whenever he did there were always faces that were new to him.] [When Faylon had turned to look at the new man he’d smile and reply...”Faylon Kwanda. Yes, maybe, I always enjoy a good bout. What about you? I have the oddest feeling we may have met once before.”...maybe he remembered the incident with the mud unconsciously but Faylon not being a callous individual likely wouldn’t have held a grudge. Taking one hand off his Pick Axe he would extend it towards the man while waiting for his name and offer it to him in a friendly gesture before looking back towards the work that needed to be down on the road.] [Breathing he took in a deep breath before shaking his head a few times and remarking...”Strange to think that when I was just a boy they were still working on this. Hopefully before we’re old men it’ll stretch all the way to Sultros.”...Faylon himself could take or leave the Isur having no special love or hate for them but his interest was in opening Denval by land instead of only by air and sea. Wind Reach and Avanthal being the closest cities that anyone could travel to if they left Denval. When he thought about it though a road leading to the town by land would open major trade routes and encourage growth, at least according to him.] [Faylon was clearly happy the new man had arrived seeing as how work here gets rather boring without anyone to talk to and as he took his Pick Axe in both hands again and started to bring it down into another section of rubble he would talk between breaths and grunts that saw the corded muscles of his arm exerting themselves. “Do you volunteer here often? I try to put in a few days of work whenever I can.”...there were some in Denval, depending on who you asked, that considered it a civic duty to spend time working on the road seeing as how the call for help always went out but Faylon came for his own reasons. Besides helping the project it was an excellent way to exercise and work out. Hard labour made a man ache in the morning.]

[Talen Stirling]

Talen took aim and hit the rock a time and a half as Faylon spoke, then answered. "Talen Stirling. I think we've had an encounter or two when we were younger. I don't shy away from a fight but I prefer my own weapons." He grinned abit, and turned to Faylon and took his outstretched hand in a firm handshake. He always made a point to have that, instead of going into things half-hearted. "You're right, it's strange to know that even before we were born our families were working on this thing. Perhaps, if we have anything to do with it, it just might get there before we kick it. Priskil grant us the strength to keep going!" Hopefully they would make it. Talen had never visited much of the outside, and although he didn't mind sailing the only nearby civilization by sea was Avanthal. Sometimes, he felt curious yet he felt that daily life and Denval was still the home of his heart. He took a look at the rubble in front of him, and let his pickaxe fly in from different angles. Using one was so different from a blade, there was so much momentum and weight at the tip he felt like he had very little control in the swing. Hitting with the tip of the pick was harder than the edge of a sword, and if he missed it slid right off the rock without any effect. Talen took a few, slow heavy hits at a particularily stubborn medium-size stone that would not break free before he answered Faylon's question, resting his sweating and aching arms as he inspected where to strike next. "I do whenever I'm here on duty for the Watch, otherwise I don't really.. Unfortunately, I'm on duty reasonably often." He grinned, and swung the pickaxe at some soft dirt that held the rubble in front of him together. It got stuck. He heaved, to no avail. Put a foot in, and with a grunt pulled the pickaxe free only to stumble back and see a small pack of dirt release itself. He went back at it with angry concentration, this petching rock insisted on having it's own way but he wouldn't let it. "Sometimes, I think this damned rock is alive the way it tries to block our way and stay in place." His breath was heavy now, having someone to talk to and at some level also compete with always made him try harder. Weariness was easier to ignore when you had someone else doing it with you that you had to live up to. "What'd you do then, when you're not boxing or working on the road? He was curious about him. Since the man wasn't around Denval much, perhaps he traveled? He could be a sailor, but also a farmer or anything else. It could be hard to read people, especially when they had hobbies that gave them a rough and muscled appearance anyway. He was secretly hoping he'd been far away to Syliras or the like; stories of Zeltiva and Avanthal were interesting but he'd heard several of them by now. Down south the weather was supposedly even warmer, thankfully the summers in Denval were not too hot with their northernly position in the world. Though the amount of sweat he was shedding and the heat from the sun didn't quite back up that claim. OOCI realised I should've asked permission to make a little background story like that, sorry but thanks for picking up on it rather than saying it was wrong.

[Faylon Kwanda]

[As Talen mentioned his name to him the vague sense that Faylon had indicating he might have known the man expanded, he seemed to recall a child somewhat younger than him by the name of Talen but that was a long time ago, maybe they had a fight over something as youths tend to do or just a random encounter of some sort. It didn’t matter anymore. Impressed with his firm handshake Faylon would offer a noticeably larger smile before releasing and taking up his pick axe for a second round at the rubble both men were working at now.] [He agreed with most everything Talen was saying, it would be nice to see the road finished before he was dead, though Faylon would noticeably stiffen at the name of Priskil. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate the Goddess but Faylon was always distant from the deities no matter what they stood for, when approached with the subject of a divine being he often met it with neutrality. Men needed something to pray to after all but he preferred to think that they could exist without the blessings of any God or Goddess and that they were in control of their own lives. After all his father had always told Faylon that even though the Gods were responsible for many amazing things they were also to blame for some of the most horrible ones as well.] [Unlike Talen when Faylon raised his Pick Axe he always tried to drive it down so that the pick would crack into the center most point of the rock and diminish the chance of it glancing randomly in any direction. He wasn’t any more skilled that Talen, in fact Talen was likely more skilled than him when it came to using tools like this, but he found that it was the most effective way for him to use the Pick Axe regardless of whether or not it was the most efficient. “They say this rock was put here to keep Denval apart from the rest of the world. I’d say that it just doesn’t know that we don’t need it to do its job anymore.”...there was a bit of laughter from Faylon when he said that before bringing his Pick Axe higher in both arms and then dropping it down onto the stone again before he saw it begin to chip a bit, he was starting to get a little tired of all this work seeing as how he’d been at it awhile, and then holding the pick axe across his body he started breathing steadily.] [After Talen had questioned him about what he did when he wasn’t working on the road or fighting in the ring Faylon would consider momentarily before answering...”Well if I’m here I enjoy helping in the community somehow; I’ve always liked helping on the Farm as well. Otherwise I’ve travelled several places the last few years. Wind Reach, Avanthal, Zeltiva. Never anywhere to far inland I’m afraid though.”...by the way Faylon was talking about it he made it seem as though it wasn’t especially interesting; he enjoyed adventure after all but when he was travelling he had less time to visit attractions and sites than one might think. “I’ve studied the art of Magecraft you see. When I was young I started here and then slowly built my repertoire outside of Denval. It takes money though so most of my own work has been limited to working underneath others as an assistant.”...which wasn’t to say that there wasn’t a great deal to be learned from acting as an assistant to other more accomplished Magecrafters but that he definitely would have preferred to undertake several of his own projects. In time he was sure he would.] [Taking his Pick Axe Faylon would look at the rubble before lifting it higher and then shouldering the tool. His arms were starting to burn from the work he’d been doing and moving off he would motion for Talen to come with him while saying...”You say you’re with the Watch? I helped patrol a few times when I was younger as penance for a bit of ruffianism. It was a learning experience. You must have some decent training with the sword then?”...the inquiry about whether or not Talen was skilled in the use of the sword was obviously something that Faylon was curious about. He had some knowledge of the sword, enough to know how to hold it properly and make a few basic attacks and defences but he was by no means more than an amateur with it yet.] [As Faylon walked, presumably with Talen accompanying him, he would approach the Foreman again and hand over his Pick Axe before exchanging a few words and watching as the man pointed both Faylon and Talen in the direction of a wheel barrow. Nodding to him then Faylon would approach the wheel barrow and begin steering it back in the direction of the rubble so that the two of them could begin loading and clearing the rock away for the others. They could give their arms a rest from swing the Pick Axes awhile and still get a decent workout from hauling the rock away.] [It was then, quite suddenly, that Faylon would remember exactly where he knew Talen from and he said with a bit of a chuckle...”Talen Stirling! Now I remember. Mud.”...as though he now knew Talen had been the boy who threw mud at him when he was younger. Clapping a hand out he slapped Talen over the shoulder once after parking the wheel barrow next to some rubble, the man knew how to sling mud well, he remembered.] OOCNo biggy. I actually really like the idea that they encountered and know one another from their childhoods.

[Talen Stirling]

His arms were aching as he worked dilligently, but at least it was interesting to hear Faylon talk. His reaction to his mentioning of Priskil hadn't gone unnoticed, but for now he didn't want to press the issue. Still, it was strange for any man who worked on The Road to react that way at the name of the goddess of hope. He chuckled along with Faylon at his joke, the rest of the world better watch out whenever they got these bloody rocks out of their way. Although that might not be anytime soon. His arms were aching as Faylon answered his last question. Each slow, heavy blow sent tremors through his arms and he'd need a break soon. Magic huh'? Talen's lack of knowledge about it was apparent from his look of curious wonder, but he didn't voice or show any concern or outright worry about it. Magecrafting was something about making magical things... Which was basically the extent of his knowledge. Perhaps he'd learn more. Faylon's non-chalant mentioning of Wind Reach peaked his interest as well; he didn't know much of the city of the red-haired falconers but he imagined it must be an amazing place to produce such fine men and beasts and the riders he'd seen in town occasionally. He took a few breaths and looked at the rocks with contempt. The only resemble this had to a swordfight was hitting things, was wasn't any. No movement, no reprieve or pause, and not even any real victory or defeat. "Well, I suppose working as an assistant can make you better 'n' earn you some of that money then, eh'?" He smiled when Faylon motioned for him to follow and did so without hesitation. Following was something he was used to from the Watch too. He smiled, it was an obvious opportunity to brag so he tried not to overdo it. "Yeah, I usually say it's the only thing I'm fairly good at. Sword 'n' Shield. Sometimes, it's like a treasure hunt. You dance around each other, you block and dodge and look for the opportunity and then you take it." He laughed, it was abit of a funny picture to use for a swordfight, but it'd do. "But there's another guy looking for it, so you got to keep him away from it without letting him steal your own." He laughed abit more, and handed his pickaxe over to the foreman following Faylon's lead without question. Now some other poor soul could wrestle with those cursed cliffs while they picked up it's lost limbs. Not that it didn't have plenty more where they came from. "It's all quite simple really. You learn how to hit a man with the sharp edge, to parry a blade and to make an opening. And then you practice it, you change it and you turn it untill the original firm movements that you did are only a part of you and the blade. I've still got a long way to go, though." He leant down and grabbed on each side of a rocked and lifted it up into the wheelbarrow when Faylon remembered where he knew him from. "Haha, you remember that? Heh, I remember I didn't quite get away with it as well as I'd hoped." He grinned and jabbed at Faylon, then picked up a bunch of the smaller rocks and continued with their work. They started on their way down the line, rolling it up to some of the miners and loading a bunch of the rocks, stones and splinters and then drove it to the side. More tedious work, but somewhat less strenous. "So tell me, Faylon. What's it like doing magic, and .. Magecrafting?" He smiled and threw a couple of smaller rocks at the barrel, letting them fly high and land heavily in the middle or on the opposite side of the wheelbarrow. They'd have plenty of time to talk about whatever today; The Road wasn't going anywhere and nor were they.

[Faylon Kwanda]

[Nodding once as they made their way to the Foreman Faylon would turn his head so that he could look at Talen while handing over his Pickaxe, he considered the man’s last comment briefly, before he was heard saying...”Sometimes. It’s an expensive trade you see and I have never created an item of my own but the experience is worth its weight in the coin you could make.”...then it was off to the wheel barrow and the rubble that the two of them could help pack off away from where the others were labouring away diligently.] [Faylon had noticed that his mention of Wind Reach had piqued the interest of Talen but he couldn’t really elaborate on it too much. He had been there but was largely ignorant of the lifestyle and caste structure that the residents of Wind Reach adhered to, most of his time there had been spent merely to interact with those from a different culture; Faylon liked the idea that while people could be so incomprehensibly different apart they could be so much alike when talking together as individuals.] [Listening to Talen as he told him about his experience with the sword and shield Faylon was the one that seemed more interested now, it was his turn to learn via taking in what he was told, and how Talen described it was fascinating as well. Faylon pictured this treasure hunt as Talen had described it, at first glance the statement may have seemed comical but if someone truly considered it there was a lot of truth in those words, two men looking for the same treasure but only one of them able to actually claim it over the other. A short treasure hunt. One thing Faylon envied about sword and shield was that matches could end in seconds while in boxing, his area of expertise, a fight could last minutes or longer much of the time.] [As Faylon parked the wheelbarrow he would lean down and begin picking up rocks the same as Talen while continuing to listen to the man. Handling a few of the smaller rocks and dumping them into the wheelbarrow while Talen took the larger one and began lifting it into the wheelbarrow, Faylon would reach out and help him set it down as well, then they were off and moving further down the road picking up rocks and different pieces of debris as they went. Other men having replaced them, taking their place against the rubble with the Pickaxe, behind them the Foreman was shouting for more volunteers to handle a particularly large rock which needed to be moved so the miners could advance.] [Working a little further down the road Faylon would begin tossing smaller rocks into the wheelbarrow again as well while remarking...”You know a lot more about the sword than I do. I’m afraid the extent of my experience was to perform a few basic blocks and know how to plant it in another man.”...not that he minded, there was something about using his fists that gave Faylon a bit more of a thrill when it came to fighting with another man. As Talen jabbed at Faylon though he would laugh and toss another rock into the wheelbarrow before saying...”Maybe not but you were braver than any of the boys that stood around and watched you sling the mud. I remember how fast they all disappeared.”...there was a bit of a chuckle that followed the remark. Indeed Talen had grit in Faylon’s opinion and he had shown it when the both of them were a lot younger.] [Driving the wheelbarrow to the side after filling it with a few more rocks down the line Faylon would begin loading smaller pieces of debris alongside Talen again. Standing upright and wiping his brow with the back of his hand he’d tell his companion...”Magic? Well it has its perks. I’ve seen some amazing things be done using magic. Things that defy reason.”...that probably wouldn’t satisfy Talen completely so Talen thought of how he could better explain himself and what Magecrafting could do. “You know your sword and shield Talen?”...he began thinking that this example would work considering the man had experience with the items...”Well I could make you a sword that was lighter and could cut through armor more easily. A Shield that could drink in the rays of the sun and use them to light your way at night. Things of that nature. It costs money though, a lot of it.”...Talen might get the feeling that Faylon was a tad disappointed in the cost of the craft sometimes because it meant that anyone who practiced it was limited by the constraints of coin but he would shrug his shoulders and get over it.] [Taking another rock in his hands Faylon would throw the stone into the wheelbarrow before looking down the road, glancing over the progress, and then back towards Talen when he smiled, stating...”Magic and the ability to create are great things but nothing compared to the hand that wields them. Tell me Talen, what do you know about Hypnosis?”...another school of magic that Faylon had a trickling of experience with though others considered it to be more science that mystical. Watching Talen then Faylon would lean down and throw a few more rocks into the wheelbarrow, it was almost full now, his body was starting to tire a bit but it helped to have company and made the days labour much more enjoyable.]

[Talen Stirling]

Talen looked at him curiously and grinned when he explained his craft; this kind of magic didn't sound so dangerous. "Oh yeah? Mayhaps I'm a have you make me summin' someday if you're up for it and I can pay for it! Look on the bright side, if it's so expencive so much the more you can earn off of it." Not that he really expected to be able to pay for anything magical anytime soon. Perhaps he could make amazing things with that kind of spellwork; yet even though Faylon could do good with his enchantments it still worried him, magic wrecked great havoc as well. Ironically the exact same thoughts Faylon had about the gods when Talen mentioned Priskil. He was absent mindedly lifting rocks up into the cart support with his legs more than his back when Faylon's comment about Hypnotism rooted him to the spot. Talen sent him a surprised glance that'd meet his own, now here was a school of magic he was not at all comfortable with. "Not much... I don't like the idea of tangling with other people's minds." Worry entered his voice as well as his eyes, to him it sounded like a skill for people who wanted to manipulate and use people for their own ends. If you had a conflict you could at least be open about it; and if not then the thought of controlling, reading or directing someone's thoughts was disgusting. He toiled on in silence apart from anything Faylon might say for abit, and then lifted up the wheelbarrow and drove it to the next area. It was already heavy with rocks, keeping it's balance was hard and the wooden wheel was making a small trail in the dirt. He reached the next pile of rocks near the edge of the road where they'd unload and turn around only to go again picking up the rubble from those still mining. He was silently hoping they wouldn't be replaced too soon, cleaning up was easier than breaking down. Starting work on the next pile went quickly enough now, he took the one side and expected Faylon to take the other as they worked in unison to fill up the last of the heavily loaded wheelbarrow. His hands were dirty now, but his arms didn't ache as much since the work was lighter. Now just to wait for his back to hurt from all this bending down. He lifted a pile of small rocks up into the cart and then turned to his brother-in-stone to speak his mind. "To be honest I'm not very familiar with magic. I don't suppose it's bad in any way, but of the little I know alot of it turns out or is used for bad things by bad people. There's alot of things in this world I don't quite understand though, so I suppose I ought to be open to them. Priskil will let me believe in them being good." He smiled at him, a little quirk to it. He wanted to be honest, and he was, but at the same time Faylon's reaction earlier had seemed strange so this was a test of what that was all about; and if he'd react in such a weird way again.

[Faylon Kwanda]

[Grinning briefly when Talen mentioned that he might have Faylon make him a sword one day he was ready to agree but before he could he hesitated; Faylon wanted to help and he believed that the art of Magecraft could help but he had a long ways to go before he would be able to build anything on his own for someone else. Money was key after all and Faylon didn’t have much of that, when he stayed in Denval it was with his aging father after all and out in the world all he had was the miza he could carry on him, but with time and patience he was certain that he could change things and make a fortune that would allow him to practice his craft more easily. It was all a matter of waiting.] [When Talen had met his gaze Faylon could realize the worry entering the man. Magic wasn’t a topic most were comfortable with due to the negative affects it could have on an area. Listening to Talen was enough to cause Faylon to have second thoughts about admitting to him that he practiced Hypnotism himself though he did well enough covering this up by smiling and shrugging both of his shoulders. “You’re right of course Talen. Delving into the minds of men can be dangerous but in the hands of the right person it could also accomplish great things. No different than a man with a sword wouldn’t you say?”...the similarities he was trying to make being that an evil man with a sword could cause just as much damage as a man who used Hypnotism, or any magic for that matter, irresponsibly. A man needed to be responsible with the power that he had.] [It seemed like the two of them worked in silence for a long time after the offbeat comment. Faylon hadn’t meant to unhinge Talen with his mention of Hypnotism but it seemed like he did and something about that disappointed him. As Talen drove the wheelbarrow to the edge of the road where they could load the next pile Faylon would follow, stopping once to grab a few extra stones which he’d cradle against his chest in one arm while using the other to pick up more, before helping to load the rubble they’d come upon. Working on the smaller rocks first he would toss them into the cart in the pile two at a time, one with either hand, quickly; this kind of work really didn’t bother him at all and in fact refreshed him to an extent. Blood pumping hot through his veins made Faylon feel alive.] [Working on the next pile, the last pile before they could unload, was an easier task between the two of them but Faylon seemed to be going at it a bit slower than before. He was still thinking about what he had said and how Talen hadn’t said a word sense then. When they came to a large piece of rubble Faylon would move around to take it from one side, assuming Talen would take it from the other, by bend down and sliding his hands firmly underneath. He’d lift with his legs then, bending them when he went down to get a hold of the large rock, and not his back knowing that he would be aching the next day if he did too much of that. Turning to look at Talen again when he decided to speak his mind it was obvious that Faylon hung on the words he was saying and considered them thoroughly.] [At the mention of Priskil he didn’t blanch but neither did he readily agree with Talen. Instead Faylon would remain quiet for a few short moments after the cart was filled and move around to begin driving it to the site they were able to unload at. Hesitating before he started however he would tell Talen...”Magic should always be used responsibly. Bad magic doesn’t exist I don’t think but the men who wield it may themselves be bad. Believe in what you think is right my friend, use your own sound judgement and you can’t go wrong.”...his words were direct and he took the time to consider them before speaking however Talen may have noticed he made no mention of the Goddess or any other deities. As for Faylon, he knew of Priskil and knew that she was a just and righteous Goddess, but he had his own separate beliefs that governed him.] [Taking the arms of the wheelbarrow Faylon would begin to drive it towards the unload sight, the wooden wheel digging well into the ground as it turned, and when he got there he would dump the rock and rubble they had loaded into a large pile off to the side. Shifting his grip so that it slid underneath the handles of the wheelbarrow instead of over them he would lift it until the rocks slowly came tumbling out and emptying over the unload site where all the other rock that had been cleared away was left. When this was finished he set the wheelbarrow back down and reached out to clap Talen over the shoulder, he liked him and consider him a decent man, before saying...”Forgot about what I have said. Out here there is only the wall, the road and us. Our work speaks for itself.”...his words were genuine and sincere, he didn’t want to offend Talen or make him weary of anything. Wiping his brow after he had finished speaking Faylon looked out over the rest of the road and wondered where to start next, sweat lined his brow thoroughly now and was easily seen, this had been a productive day thus far.]