[The Kabrin Road] Terrible Forethought [Complete]

[Rhuryc]

82nd Day of Summer, 510 AV

"This was a bad idea." Rhuryc kept his hefty baritone to his chest, weary as he was to be heard in his lonesome. His thick-soled boots were terrible for travel and the daytime heat did not help the young man's mood - the temperature made even worse by his thick, leather coat and dark colored tunic he wore beneath. Fortunately he advent of evening had cooled the sun's wrath, but with the rising of the moon an entire new set of dangers came with it. Darkness lessened the range of his vision and, already tired from a full day's travel, Rhuryc was not so sure he could fend off the malevolent inhabitants of the Wood. What remained worse was his inability to pass without a trail. He was positive that the consistent crunch of his footwear and the lack of awareness made him a prime target. At least, he thought, he had left his Mizas in Syliras.

Despite his paranoia Rhuryc made for a terrible target. Tall, physically fit, able, and - worst yet - armed, no bandit looking for an easy score would approach such a specimen. After all, the young apprentice held an air that gave him a tone well beyond his years and looked the part of some wandering sword sage. Oft the truth was best kept hidden. With this fact far from his mind, Rhuryc kept his left hand steady on the hilt of his weapon, all five of his senses tuned into the world around him. From the steady hoot of the night-bearing avians to the fresh, cool scent of the wilderness, the young man was prepared for any eventually, even the advent of nothing. The latter remained his preferred realm of passage.

Guided by little but the light of the moon the lone traveler inched his way ever forward, intent on reaching Syliras by the morning's call. He hoped.

[Nero Czan]

Nature had been a keystone in Nero's life for as long as he could remember. Spanning from his childhood in Endrykas, and reigniting in the forests around Syrilas, there was never a moment when he was not in subtle reverence of it's amazing might. However, Nature's night was no safe haven. Nature took life just as easily as it gave, and as it should, as to preserve the balance it is so accustomed and entrusted with. The myriad of creatures, predators and prey alike, that roamed the thick darkness were innumerable. It was even more dangerous for men and women, who, without the advantage of environmental adaptation, were easy targets for the vicious animals of the Night... It was just as well, as an unknowing participant to this example of the 'Circle of Life' decided to risk the travel after Nightfall. This tall fellow, although seeming a strong and capable man, was still in the realm of others. The realm of Predators. The thick brush on either side of the road provided excellent cover in the shade of darkness, in which any pick of monster could leap out at any moment. The tension was as taut as a lute's strings, and as palpable as one's own body. Every snap of a twig seemed to carry an echo, every rock pushed aside, it's own twin. The night was alive, in the sense that it itself was a being. The vicious pranks of an adolescent could be likened to the antics of what a living Night may bring. Although, no adolescent could ever be so dangerous. The man would be trailed by this vicious ghoul, of which may not even exist, but would stand tall in his strides, undaunted, albeit overly-alert. As the Night was in it's last couple hours of play, the darkness as palpable and unbearable as ever, there came a rustle in the brush ahead of this man of wandering. The dimming moonlight provided no sight as to the source, but the thrashing of sticks and branches grew in volume, and in intensity. Each second brought on another cracking of wood, or rustling of leaves, and with them, the sound of the Night. Any of the vicious inhabitants of the woodland area surrounding the grand city could be the master of this disturbance. As if to fool around with the scenery, purposefully for fright, the gentle breezes that came from the shallow hills of the surrounding countryside suddenly grew themselves, shaking the leaves of every tree in sight. Each one making it's own shrieking cry of caution, pleading to this man to avoid the danger. The parting and enclosing canopies shimmered the ground with faint light, sent by the ailing moon on it's final descent. Illuminated for all but a brief second, was a small break in the brush ahead, viciously torn up by some monstrous creation. The broken twigs and leaves littered this passage, as it winded into the darkness of Oblivion. All the while, the echoing voices and threats of the encroaching foe rose, and rose. The trees screamed in fear, the wind, wisping along with tiny screeches of retreat, made it's exit, and as the sounds of all the Night died down, there lay the dreaded silence. Silence in the absence of all Motion, and then... Nothing. No monsters. No predators. The unpredictable anti-climax of Nature and Night had passed. The night was tranquil, and ever- A figure, or rather the silhouette of one, with one fist gleaming, accompanied by the sound of a flapping fabric in the wind, seeming Vaulted over the destroyed brush. The landing was spot on, although a little off-balanced, and as the motion, which was the only source of sight in the dreaded darkness of night, had ceased, the only visible thing was the faintly shimmering sheen of metal. The figure, remaining in the safety of darkness, and blessed with the penetrability of night-vision, let out it's vicious cry of bloodlust, which sounded as such: "Hey There, mate. You alright..?"

[Rhuryc]

Fear was a potent killer. Rhuryc remembered the tales of his uncle well; the men who survived were those whom mastered their own mind. As the very environment swelled around him, the young man steadied his pace and hardened his stance. He felt his muscles tense with each shake of the brush. Dozens of beasts must lay beyond, all starving with gnashing teeth and vicious claws. In defense, Rhuryc brandished his blade, the shriek of scrapped metal echoing into the night air like a mighty, defiant chorus. In the possession of a steeled reserve he watched as the very darkness crept in around him, fueled by whatever evil stalked unfortunate wanderers, ready to tear him apart and rip his very soul in the bowls of the hells themselves. Death, he imagined, was very near.

Or not.

The world, it seemed, had a sense of humor. Rhuryc's blade lowered as he stared at the violent nothing, a large block of absence that assailed his heightened, adrenaline fueled senses. Although he remained grateful that no demon of infinite power had engaged him in martial combat, there was a part of the young man that was disappointed. His shoulders slouched and his eyes eased as each muscle seemed to relax. The poise of combat left his already tired body near exhausted now. Perhaps he would find some quiet, secluded place to sleep before he continued his trek; after all, he hated traveling at night.

Once again the gods laughed. The beast now revealed, Rhuryc swung into action, his entire body hefted backward in defense, one arm extended out as he turned to the side, square with his would-be assailant. His vision narrowed, focused now, intent on the monster in the darkness, the one whom spoke as if it were just a normal person. What? For just a moment Rhuryc contemplated stabbing the other man.

"That was wholly unnecessary." He spoke with a taunt tone, obviously tired and drawn out from an expectant fight. "This a common greeting for you?"

[Nero Czan]

Nero couldn't help but chuckle at the display, the small chunk of bread in his hand growing ever smaller by his precise bites. He quickly finished it off, so that he could properly speak with his new friend, not knowing that the minute or so delay was not helping their 'friendship.' He just shrugged, and with a smile, hidden by the omniscient veil, simply answered the man. "Eh. I do usually ask how someone's feeling when their first response is to Draw a Sword on me, So you could say Yes." He gave a kind of sigh, the other part of his mind reminding him of the circumstances, and once again, a momentary fight inside his head ensued. Nevertheless, this one was quelled almost instantly, as matters needed to be attended to. "Nevertheless, I guess an apology IS in order. You see, I was taking a usual walk through the wilderness, when, I'll be damned, I got myself lost. So I've been wandering around for a while, and found this nice path drawn up through the brush. Now there was this chattering sound, and footsteps to boot, but no Light. So, I assumed it was either an outlaw, or a beast. Either would've been fun, but it ended up well, nonetheless." He couldn't help chuckle again, now that he had replayed the series of events, "I hope I didn't scare you too much. The name's Nero." By this time, he had walked to within arm's reach of the man, despite his wary footing, and extended his arm for a hand-shake. His characteristic smirk was visible in the waning light, if not anything else. "Now that I found the road, it shouldn't be too long before I get back to enjoy myself a nice drink. Care to join me?"

[Rhuryc]

Rhuryc cocked a single brow. He stared at Nero as the man consumed whatever it was in his hand - bread, it looked - the rampant chewing existent as the only sound to grace their continued conversation. Or whatever it was they were doing. Unsure of even his own intentions the sword-wielding young man remained still. He watched and waited, counting the moments as they passed in some slowed reality. Odd.

Metal scraped against leather as Rhuryc sheathed his blade. He kept an ear open while the other man spoke, a string of seeming nonsense that he went about ignoring the brunt of. Still, he appeared attentive, despite his gaze as it swept about the immediate surroundings, ensuring that there were no more surprises and vaulting men hidden within the darkness. Footsteps drew his eye back to Nero and Rhuryc was quick to find himself within a grappler's dream, a situation he was all too uncomfortable with.

"Rhuryc." He said, grasping the man's hand in a curt gesture. "No apology is necessary, I assumed you were a bandit. Or a demon. You know, the usual." He paused just long enough to offer a grin in return, his hand withdrawn back to his side, yet still awfully close to the hilt of his sword. Trust was so seldom easy to find.

"I'll take any company I can. Though I think we'd be doing each other a favor if we walked side-by-side, hm?"

[Nero Czan]

Nero once again only shrugged. He had done countless treks through these jungles, and not once had he encountered a Demon. He would have to look harder. He took another piece of bread from the small pouch around his waist, and offered it to his temporary companion, the casual stride being recovered. The night which had engulfed all was slowly retreating from the encroaching dawn. Little by little, normal vision was returning to the pair as they strolled. Nero gave a quick glance at the man to his side, examining his entire being warily. He did this in segments, each one incorporated into a wide-sweeping glance, and when he was finished, he had compiled a decent amount of information, or rather, assumptions. For starters, he was obviously a swordsman. How skilled was left to the imagination, but he seemed pretty exerted, before the fight had even begun. If necesarry, a fight would not be an issue. There was an old saying once about a warrior who was so alert, at every waking moment, that when it came time to fight, he passed out from exhaustion. Okay, so maybe that wasn't an old saying, but it was in a book somewhere... Most likely... His simple clothing did not suggest Knighthood, nor did it deny it, but Nero was certain that Knights were not ones to roam the roads in the dark, and unaccompanied. A few other assumptions were made, but these were the products of an idle mind, and almost entirely baseless. His momentary pause solved the issue, and he discarded the rest. More often than not he wasn't even aware of the workings of his own mind, and more likely than not, he would be annoyed by them. He shook off the mental complex for the moment, and returned his focus to reality. "So then Rhuryc, what brings you all the way out here, and at such an hour? There aren't many people brave enough to travel in complete Darkness." Or stupid enough... Whichever the case may end up being. He kept his inner comments to himself, as always, and pushed the thought from his mind. Rude thoughts breed Rude people, and if there was anything he strove to be, it was to be Kind and Courteous, as is pseudo-written in his pseudo-code of pseudo-Chivalry. Naturally, this applied more so to Women than men, but nothing could come of life if he was blatantly rude to every man he met. There was an enjoyable bond in a friendship, and Nero had always been a charismatic figure. Granted, that in itself was both a blessing and a curse.

[Rhuryc]

Like Nero, Rhuryc took a passing interest in his newfound companion, yet his observations were less involved. From his peripheral the young man was able to get an idea of the other; smaller, surely, and in the possession of clothing Rhuryc was unfamiliar with, what he could see beneath the cloak anyway. On no more than visual assumptions he deemed Nero to be less of a threat, but he was not about to lower his guard. There was no telling what this man was capable of, or even what he intended. Paranoia served one well in the company of strangers.

He waved off the offering of bread while the walked, too concerned to be hungry. For a while it seemed that the remainder of the trip would pass in silence. Yet as the sun began to rise Nero's voice nipped at Rhuryc's ears. Brave enough? Perhaps. Rhuryc was not one to consider himself such - foolhardy, perhaps, but not brave.

"Travel." He spoke bluntly, sure that Nero had intended to start a conversation of some kind. "I was returning to the city and I figured I was close enough to just travel through the night. Sleeping the woods isn't all too appealing for me." Rhuryc neglected to mention the fact that he was too scared to stop. He put on all the airs of a knightly warrior, but he was, after all, still human. "I imagine your tale is very much the same."

[Nero Czan]

Nero only smiled back at his final line. "Somewhat similar at least. On the contrary to your tale, I somewhat enjoy sleeping in the wilderness, and I'll often do just that. There's something about Nature that never ceases to intrigue me. I was just returning from a camp I had set up, when I ran into you. Granted, my own tale is not one I'd discuss without a drink in hand." Nero had multiple times told this same explanation, maintaining his usual smirk, and more often than not, was regarded with a subtle condescension due to it. He easily shirked it off, but it was worth noting. However, he wasn't sure of this man's response. He seemed reluctant to show anything but complete kindness and sincerity, even though it was obviously a fraud at times. No sane man would be so inviting after being scared half to death. At least no Knight, and that was yet to be decided upon. Regardless, Rhuryc made a decent point. The longer you stayed outside the city walls, the more dangerous life became. It was a reasonable decision to make his trek, although he could've picked a better night for it. The silence breeding only more thoughts, which he had plenty of on a slow day, he decided to reignite their conversation, into a 'friendlier' approach. "So, Rhuryc." Nero talked as he nodded his head towards the hefty-seeming sheath, all while subtly concealing his own gauntleted fist inside his cloak. "Quite a weapon you have there. You seemed to handle it pretty well earlier. I take it you've got a bit of experience under your belt. If you don't mind my prying, what kind of profession you in anyhow?" Yep. Nothing friendlier, nor manlier, than Weapons.

[Rhuryc]

Very suddenly Rhuryc decided he liked this man. There was a hint of sarcasm in everything Nero said and that near ever-present smirk remained a point of endearment, no matter the intention. His first response was one of relief as well - a wild savvy companion was more than he could ask for and expect to receive. When Rhuryc decided to comment his tone was far from condescending and, in fact, held a degree of humor with it, his expression amused.

"Looks like I'll have to buy you a drink at the Stallion, then." He turned his head just far enough so that Nero could see his grin and the sincerity in his eyes. So quick to trust, it seemed, yet his hand remained within a second's grasp his weapon. At least he did not chew the man would for his destitute habits.

"Blacksmith." He bobbed his head as Nero reignited the conversation after some time of silence. "Apprentice, anyway." The truth was underwhelming as always. Not too mention the legend ruined. No wandering sword sage this night. "Most people mistake me for a Knight; might have something to do with my uncle having been a solider. And this," He absently patted the sheath of his blade, "Is nothing much to fear. Its wielder has only ever pretended to slay demons, never actually engaged one in combat."

Again with the demon reference. Apparently Rhuryc strove for nothing more than to fight a bastion of hell. Admirable, if naive.

"Mind, that's not an invitation to mug me."

[Nero Czan]

Nero laughed at his remark, giving his companion a hearty pat on the back, and with a grin to rival Rhuryc's, he continued, "I see. Well, I'll try to resist the temptation. I may not not my way with a Sword, but if you ever want to learn a bit about Fighting in general, I'd be happy to teach you a few things. I've had my share of "Demons," I feel..." His voice drifted, albeit subtly, at the end, his words bringing up a myriad of memories, some unpleasant, other's apathetic, and some just plain exciting. Nero quickly shook off this feeling of reminiscence, his mind once again multi-tasking the thoughts that arose and shoving things aside to clear his mind. Demons held multiple meanings to Nero, both physical and psychological. "Anyways, like I was saying. I may not be able to wield a sword anywhere near true effectiveness, but I can definitely deal some damage." Feeling a bit safer, he relaxed his own veil of darkness, pushing his cloak aside as his right arm arose. The Keikogi he was wearing underneath had since had that sleeve torn off, and the winding tattoo of exquisite detail, a namesake of his Drykan heritage, sweeped down his entire arm, ending in a plated fist, obviously tampered with, by removing some of the metal that would not be in a strike zone. This included the wrist of the gauntlet, as well as the upper half of the back of his hand. This left isolated, if not sharpened pieces of metal curving down along his fingers, and around the arc of his knuckles. A sort of inverted-fingerless glove, with the leather glove underneath the gauntlet remaining untouched. He lifted the gauntlet up to about eye level, and held it steady as they walked, he then took his other hand and pointed out a couple areas where the metal had been dented or otherwise compromised. "You know, if you want some practice, you could help me by fixing up some of these dings. Those bastard Zith can be a pain sometimes." Nero smirked, his mind saying that in half-bragging, and half stating, and couldn't help but chuckle at the memory, yet again revealing itself. What a day... Some miracle that was. He refocused on reality, and to his grace, the horizon provided the first sight of the rising tower of Syrilas.