Open Carver's Company

[Colt]

22nd of spring, 513 a.v.
mid-morning

It was an altogether dreary morning. Heavy clouds had hung over the world at dawn, making it difficult for Syna to spread warmth. Nothing seemed willing to get up and move around, rendering both of his snares empty. And on top of that, thunder had rolled in the distance, threatening rain. It seemed like today would not be the best day for hunting.

He had been disgruntled, at first, but, like all things, his irritation had passed. Now he just wanted to find a way to pass the time until after the storm, when he was certain all manner of creatures would want to frolic in the fresh water. That would be the time to kill.

He sat upon a low, grassless hill somewhere between Endrykas and his camp. He could clearly see the fringe tents of the city, and if he had wanted to stand up and walk to the next rise over, it would be little trouble to spot his own home. He wondered briefly if the rain would have any impact on Slither; the slave’s people were rumored to dwell in a thick rainforest to the south, and Cyphrus was a dry place. Or did the Dhani come from Ektol? The hunter frowned as all the legends battled with each other, unsure of which was the correct one. Oh, well. He didn’t need to dwell on it. He hoped Slither enjoyed the rain.

He turned his attention to his hands, and what was grasped within them. One held a small knife, sharpened to a razor’s edge. In the other was a steel scoop, meant to gouge and shape. Before his crossed legs was a log, probably not more than half his arm’s length but as thick around as his leg. That would make a good place to practice.

He had already stripped away the bark, and the bare wood was exposed on all sides. The hunter tilted his head, then set upon it with his new tools, never once thinking that, as he could clearly see Endrykas, so too could Endrykas clearly see him…

[Syren]

Didn't look like Syren would catch anything today if those big grey clouds had anything thing to do with it. In the desert, this would be cause for celebration as water was so precious, but Syren wasn't in the desert anymore. So instead of hunting, the young man would settle for something a little less enjoyable. "I give up, what is it" Syren said to the Kelvic, in her human form today as she skipped alongside him. She had been tutoring him on Grassland Sign, and Pavi because, somehow, the girl learnt things extremely quickly, something that Syren both admired about her, and envied. "This means affection! You add it to a sentence like, 'I love you' when you are being affectionate. Please at least remember that one" Syren grinned at her and gripped her hand in both of his. Then he let go softly, and said "I love you, Meliyah" his hands formed the signs to accompany the words "I didn't forget" He added, weaving another sign that he hoped meant something along the lines of 'I was joking', but Meli just laughed and said that it was 'close enough' for what she could tell. They paused a moment and Syren thought about saying something else, but the something caught Meli's attention and she exclaimed "Look! It's the guy from before!" Meliyah then started running off into the distance, but Syren, used to this troublesome habit of hers by now reached out and grabbed her hand before she'd gone a meter"Is it possible, do you think, to wait for me, once in a while?" Syren looked in the direction she was about to sprint in, and indeed, there was the Hunter from a couple of days ago. Melie urged him to hurry up and move eagerly, and Syren sighed and nodded. They set off, hand in hand, Syren trying to make she she didn't bound up to the guy and annoy him. Really, Sy though it would be uncomfortable for the both of them, but at least Sy's Pavi and sign was improving, and Meliyah could almost, not quite, but almost achieve a basic level of comprehension. Besides, it wasn't right, being all alone like that. When Sy felt lonely, at least he had Meli, but this guy didn't seem to even talk to people. So Syren approached, carefully, making sure to portray no threat in his stance, or faciel expression. Meliyah was a different story. She would not faulter as she broke free of Syren's hand and skipped to the man's side beaming like it was the best day of her life, signing hello! and looking with interest at what the man was doing "Hello Hunter" Syren said somewhat haltingly. He signed the same as what he spoke out loud. These were two words he'd learnt from the man himself, funny enough. Syren smiled in a friendly way and peered at what he was doing curiously like Maliyah was. interesting, so he carves things? he thought

[Colt]

He started in the middle, gouging out large chunks of wood to make a rough bowl shape. He regarded it, then made a shallow trench an inch or so outside the rime of the bowl. Then he made another, until there was an odd bulls-eye pattern sprawled over one side of the log. He frowned. It would look better smooth.

He rooted around in the carver’s kit and retrieved a file. That was what files were for, weren’t they? The hunter scraped it along the sides of the inner bowl and was rewarded by the softening of the gouging lines. A few more swipes and a few more vanished.

And then there was a pleased shout. The hunter glanced from the wood and spotted a young couple on the outskirts of Endrykas conversing. He harrumphed, unconcerned, and returned to the wood.

And was immediately distracted when he felt their footsteps approaching. He leaned closer to the object of his focus. If he didn’t make any large movements, he was sure that they would pass right by and go on their merry way. But, of course, that was not the case.

The woman stopped her walking—no, her skipping—right next to the hunter’s shoulder. Well, a few feet away, but still a bit close for comfort. He looked up in time to catch her signed greeting. She was short, at least by Drykas standards, with tousled brown hair and a beaming smile and was looking at his carving with interest. There was something familiar about her, but the hunter couldn’t quite place it…

“Hello, hunter.”

But he did recognize the man she had in tow. He could almost feel a headache approaching just thinking about the incident two days before. But this was different; now, he was outside Endrykas. This was his territory, a territory he knew well, and he was much more comfortable here than he had been inside the tents.

He recognized the greeting, but, like most words, he did not find it particularly interesting. He blinked once at the Syren, made a short, rough noise at the back of his throat to indicate that he was aware of the man’s presence, then turned back to his carving.

[Syren]

Syren sighed and Meliyah retuned to his side again. One day he'd get the hang of communicating with this guy, but right now it was as frustrating as ever. How was he meant to do this? As long as he'd been with Meli, he wasn't used to communicating with his body alone. At least the man seemed more comfortable out here than he had when they first met. He had to figure out a way to... to what? Every way he knew in terms of friend making was dashed in this situation. He didn't even spark an interest with his greeting, the man only looked up for half a second. Meanwhile, Meli was tilting her head at the man, still with the smile, though less of a grin now. She wanted him to remember her, and was obviously trying to gain his attention. So, she pointedly sat down beside him and watched his work. Syren felt awkward standing there, and he couldn't get anywhere with words, so he looked up at the sky and walked a little way, tapping Meliyah on the shoulder as he did so to tell her he was walking over the hill the man was sat atop and resolved to practice some swordplay while he awaited the rain that was sure to fall. It wouldn't bother him really, besides, after it had passed, he might find something to shoot or swing at. It occurred to Syren that this might be what the Hunter was waiting for as well. He brought the Tulwar from its place at his belt and put a foot back into a good, firm stance. He practiced thrusting, slicing and slashing, as well as footwork and he would move forward, backwards, left right. He was happy to let Maliyah sit beside the man. He'd recognise her eventually, or she'd just tell him herself. She could do what she liked. Until this rain came and there was a possibility of a common activity they could share, Meliyah had a better chance at talking to this guy.

[Colt]

The Syren didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, but it was a state that his companion did not share. The young woman plopped herself beside the hunter cheerfully and continued her scrutiny of what his hands were doing. The Syren, on the other hand, shifted about uncomfortably, then made his way down the hill.

The hunter stopped his carving and looked directly at the woman beside him, huffing questioningly. What did she want? Was she a woodworker of some sort, looking to expand her skills? That seemed unlikely, as he had no skills to begin with. Was there something stunningly interesting about his hands that he, himself had failed to notice? He glanced at the appendages, but they were completely unremarkable hands. What was it?

He huffed again, wondering just what could possess her do exhibit such interest, and returned to his filing. Most of the bowl was smooth, at least to some extent, and be began to do the same to the first ring. He knew there was a smaller file in the kit, and he could use that to smooth it farther.

He heard movement from where the Syren had gone, and the half of the hunter’s attention shifted. He turned, keeping an eye on the woman, and craned his neck to see what the young man was doing. The Syren was… dancing? He was practicing with a peculiar curved sword. Step, thrust, turn, parry, parry, slash; he seemed to be going through paces.

The hunter’s interest was immediately piqued. His hands stopped their filing, and after a moment the tools were set on the log and abandoned completely. He rose to a crouch and slinked towards the Syren, but remained on the top of the hill where he could see clearly what the man was doing.

Such a strange dance, but it was one that he had seen before. Mostly from warriors of the Diamond clan with their chosen weapons; if he went to their training tent in the center of the district it seemed that almost everyone dance with weapons. Was that how they learned?

[Orkis Strongwind]

22nd of spring, 513 a.v.
mid-morning

Orkis Had been busy finding something to kill and test his skill against. There was nothing, he had been wondering the outskirts of the city, stalking through the sea of grass, looking for something, anything that he could fight it had been far far to long. Drills were not enough anymore he needed an opponent, someone who could think and react to his moves, so he had to adapt and think rather than just repeat.

He was no good at tracking, but still he looked around were he was. 'All i can see is bloody grass, grass and grass, how people distinguish tracks in this place i have no idea'. he kicked out at a small rock crossly and it flew across the vast expanse and landed a way off. 'Fine' Orkis thought, 'Clearly i will find nothing here to fight , i need to get better at hiding my presence from animals, clearly they have smelt me coming and all fled, either that or they don't like the look of those storm clouds yonder. Still i refuse to hide from nature like everything else, this will not be another wasted day if i cannot fight i will have to find another way to amuse myself".

Orkis wondered aimlessly, walking further and further away from Endykas, muttering to himself about how bad his luck was, ' why cant a i stumble into something, anything, it doesn't even have to be that large. A grass bear, yea a nice grass bear, even if its only 400-500 pounds that would be large enough to satisfy him'. Orkis was to busy fantasizing about what he could stumble upon to realize what he had actually stumbled upon. He was only noted to it when he heard a faint grunt, followed by the distinct noise of a sword 'swishing' through the air, a noise he would recognize anywhere. He looked up in search of the noise and to his amazement, no more than 500 meters away, practicing his form in an area of very short grass, was one of the men he had met the other day. 'I believe that's Syrus, no Syren" Orkis mused to himself, 'His form is ok, his stance could be stronger, and his parry of low blows needs work, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a good bit of sparring'. Orkis licked his lips, almost like a predator that had found a tasty prey. He walked until he was in shouting distance of Syren, took a deep breath and called "You led me to believe your fighting abilities were of a good quality. I am fairly sure my grandmother (not that Orkis had ever met her) could do better than that". What he said was meant to antagonize, but it wasn't meant spitefully either, as if he felt Syren was not worthy to spar with he would have just walked of and sought a greater foe, so he said the taunt with a smile tugging at his lips, showing there was humor meant as well, and stood waiting for a response. He did not notice the other man half way up the hill to the left of Syren.

[Syren]

Meliyah was having a great time watching the man's confusion. She laughed and said "Hello, I'm Meliyah. We've met" Then she went back to being the overly energetic, and happy puppy-like creature and even huddled closer to the man She looked into his eyes and studied his face. Her body language said 'I like you. pay attention to me.'. But after a while of nothing she would back off a bit and huff herself. Syren didn't pay too much attention to her attempts, as he focused on swinging around his blade, and getting his form right. After a little while, both his companion and the silent guy had turned to watch him. Syren barely registered the attention. It didn't deter him, or make him stop swinging. What did make him stop was the sound of a familiar voice cutting through the open air to meet his ears. Oh geez, it's the other guy from before isn't it? His guess was correct. When he turned he saw the dark haired Drykas from a couple of days ago. His taunt brought a smirk to the boys lips. Competitive in nature, and all too fond of this pre-battle banter, Syren was immediately equipped with a rebuttal "Your sure about that are you? Come over here and say that, bighead" Syren's grin grew even wider as the familiar joke was brought back from two days ago. Syren noticed Meliyah stand and begin chuckling as she peered at the other man. How funny it was for her to see both of them again. She had liked the both of them when she had met them. Though she tended to like anyone that didn't pose a threat. It seemed he wanted to fight with Sy, but that didn't worry her, the man did not wish to hurt him in malice, only to test his strength. Syren called out to the man again, and indicated Meli. He then took in a deep breath and said in Pavi: "You remember Meliyah? also here is Hunter again" Syren snorted at his clumsiness and shook his head laughing at himself. He would rest his stance in a relaxed, but ready to change it to a more combat related one should the man want to spar right away. "Yeah, i'm still not getting the hang of that am I?" A crack of thunder sounded in the vally cutting him off, but the ran still wasn't falling. The storm clouds looked ominous, like they were darkening further. It might be some storm that was on the way. Somehow that made everything more exciting...

[Colt]

“Hello, I’m Meliyah. We’ve met.”

No, he was rather certain that they hadn’t. Still, her actions were easy enough to read—much like a young dog, vying for another’s attention. She got just a bit closer—she’d followed him to the edge of the rise?—and he got just a bit more uncomfortable. He turned and huffed at her again, fully acknowledging that the was there, beside him, and then returned his attention to the Syren’s dancing.

He heard the stranger’s approach before he heard the voice, and his focus was immediately switched to the form emerging from the grass. Was that…? The hunter’s shoulders slumped suddenly. Him, too?

The Diamond warrior called to the Syren as soon as he was in hearing range. The hunter listened, but those words were just as interesting as his others—not interesting at all. But the Syren seemed to like them, and he returned some words of his own with a predatory smile matched only by the warrior’s.

The smirked at each other, postures erect and confident. The hunter did not need to pay attention to the words to know that a challenge had been issued.

[Orkis Strongwind]

Orkis smiled at Syrens comments, he was beginning to approve of this young man and his confident attitude, not that he had any intention of letting that on. He strode towards the man, is shoulders squared head straight, eyes locked onto his prey. He replied to Syren in common, "I understood what you said in Pavi, although it is still very child like, but that's ok it matches your swordplay". He flashed a grin as he said this, stopping 100 meter's away.

He undid the clasp of the strap going over his head that held his spear onto his back, and placed it onto the floor. Next he removed his simple cloth top reveling his muscular physique and revealing his extensive black windmarks. He had left his bow and arrows back at his tent, and was now left with only his sword, which he drew, holding it in his right arm. He gave it a few testing swings before breaking into his own sword dance, a practice he had done many many times. Lunge, parry high, twist, slash shoulders, two handed parry, step slash step, one foot back parry high retaliating blow to legs. After he had repeated this hi stopped, letting his blade arm fall to his side. he stretched his neck, tilting it left and then right, each time with a big crack, shock his shoulder and then looked at Syren, his blue eyes locked on his.

"That was just one of the 50 form dances i know, if you still wish to face me, step forward" His voice had lost its tone of humor and was replaced now with a serious tone, the warrior was now focused on the battle he new was coming and did not have time to play games anymore, he was focused and ready his years of training kicking in. Overall he struck quite an imposing figure.

[Syren]

The Drysks stopped about 100 meters away from him and made a jibe at his language, and fighting skills alike, flashing a huge grin. Syren didn't have time to reply before the man had begun a series of moves himself. He seemed to like taking his shirt off, was something Syren noticed. The moves were fearsome, practiced and rather intimidatingly better than his own. When he was finished, he looked at Syren stating that this was one of 50 form dances he knew. Syren blinked and registered just what he was getting himself into. He spared a quick look at Meli before doing anything. She looked concerned. She wasn't actively telling him to stop, but that was probably because she knew him well enough that he couldn't stop at this point. She didn't call out to him but her eyes said enough. Syren didn't have years of training behind him. He hadn't mastered 50 different patterns. He had, in fact, spent school years fighting with wooden swords, he had trained to become the next head of family and to protect them, he'd trained nearly everyday in the year that he had been banished from his Tent, but only by himself. But this guy was probably a primed warrior who had been fighting his whole childhood, whole life. Syren closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took his bow and arrows off of his back, and tossed them aside. Then, armed only with his curved blade he stepped forward, signalling that he would fight. This was more than training. This was a showdown that would determine his worth amongst these Drykas. He had steped forward because it would be cowardly to decline. He couldn't refuse, there was no choice. He'd been banished from one group of people, so he had to fit in here. I'm going to die, aren't I? He was afraid, but his face was calm, firm. He stepped back into a largely defensive stance, and brought his blade up. "Ladies first" he said, outwardly smirking but preparing himself to defend and attack. He may not win, but he had to hold his own, and reckless attacks without any knowledge of how the Drykas fought, his tendencies, his dominant hand, maybe, would get him injured and dangerously so. Defence was the best way to learn. Once he found an opening, then he'd break into attack or at least offence.