Completed The Cold Jungle (Kaie)

[Inoadar]

56th of Fall, 513 AV

'Damn it, I should have known' the man cursed under his breath, which was now coming as wisps of cold steam in the fall air. Outside of Ravok, there was not Rhysol's benevolent maintenance of an even year-round temperature. Just a half season ago, Inoadar was enjoying the slight changes in the weather when he left Ravok. A dynamic lost on anyone that spent day after day in the city on the lake. It was a welcome change.

Now he shivered. His mail shirt was good protection, but left much to be desired as insulation. Although the heat of his anger might have lent the appearance of raised temperature, it was only his ire that was raised. "I should have petching known." This time he let his voice loose on the cold wind. Coming from the north, the wind blew his wrath back the way he had come. He was still looking to procure some 'Fogweaver' web, the basic component of 'Silk Streak' poison.

His previous research on his only sample of the poison had left no doubt it was from a swamp spider. And his follow-up season at the Institute of Higher Learning had confirmed it.

So he'd spoken with a man that carried a few maps in the Merchant's Ring. He was not surprisingly out of the local charts, but swore that the swamp was found by heading north along the west side of the lake. "You can't miss it, but you CAN die in it!" The gap-toothed old man has struggled to finish his line before erupting in cackling laughter.

Inoadar wanted to cackle with similar laughter when he returned to slice the old bastard's ear off and sew it to his tongue. Then maybe the idiot could actually listen to what he was saying. 'North/west, South/east, what's the difference?' Inoadar sneered with scathing sarcasm. But no, he was just venting. As he'd already repeatedly cursed, he should have known.

He'd come more or less this way a number of times, though only once had he actually rounded the Northwest corner. That was on an odd job at the Kelvic Research Institute, due north of the city, across the water. But he'd been required to completely avoid detection by anyone. So he'd spent several days camping, traveling only at night, staying wherever people were NOT.

And fighting wolves...Oh yes...wolves. He got angrier still at the thought of the furry, flea-bitten scavengers. 'The only good thing about them is the bounty on their asses.' he snarled inwardly. He'd had to fight off wolves literally every other time he left town. And he traveled into the wild regularly for herbs and fungus and such. 'If only wolf guts could be used to make poison.' he thought with a sour grin. 'Then they'd be twice as "loveable", the big, furry rats!'

He had scars everywhere from wolf fangs, though he'd obviously given better than he got. And he would be even better prepared now. This time, he'd actually indulged his brain! And bought more oil, rags, and crossbow bolts, 20 of the normal kind, 20 of the broad-headed battle kind and 4 of the oil-reservoir "fire" kind. These had cost him 77 gold mizas, but he wanted to not only practice his crossbow archery, he wanted to have some heavy hitting types for what was fast becoming an inevitable part of his trips into the wild...An attack by some stinking wolf-pack.

He'd had good results with setting up a perimeter of oil soaked rags. Last time, he'd had to struggle with getting them lit with impromptu fuses. This time, fire arrows would ensure swift ignition. He'd also brought a crude, unprocessed bundle of Englehorn Vine. The overall mass of the vine could be burned like firewood, creating a toxic smoke cloud equal to that gained from the more concentrated powder you could get from simply peeling the inner sub-bark from the core and grinding it up after drying it. This was where the highest concentration was found, but the firewood approach worked well enough for an outdoor situation. Naturally, he brought a dose of his antitoxin from the shop. If he ended up using it, it would cost him another 50 mizas.

He brought 5 of his glass-bulb arrow tips filled with acid rather than poison. He always marveled at how glass was impervious to the effects of acid. And just two 5-miza vials provided enough acid to scorch a nasty patch of hide off any 5 wolves, Then when they licked it...He smiled maliciously at the thought. Vayt's Teeth! He was actually hoping for a run-in.

But his amusement was short-lived as his surroundings recalled his misdirection. Well, it was too late in the day to bother returning to the ferry now. He'd also bought a bale of hay, though his horse, a Zavian named "Handy" could forage well enough on the plentiful grass. The bale was for crossbow practice. hanging one of the rags over the front and backing it up against a tree, the bolts would be slowed enough by the hay bale to be able to be dug out of the tree trunk behind it. He made a small fire and got out his iron pot to prepare the first meal from his Traveler's Stock. This, plus the hay and rags, bundled as they were, cost an additional 5 mizas.

He set to practicing while the stock heated, trusting Handy's animal senses to warn him of any approaching danger.

[Kaie]

Okay. Now Rhysol's just playing tricks on me...

The woman was paused in the middle of the forest, a hand on her hip as she scowled at her surroundings. Brown eyes flickered here and there, scanning, searching for the object of interest. This was right where she had thought she left it! Where could it have gone in twenty four hours? It's not as if people commonly strolled through these woods just to pass the time. It wasn't an ideal place to be. Every story ever told about the areas outside Ravok were full of malicious beasts. It occurred to her even the animals she had come to believe were harmless, were touched by chaos and twisted into a bloodthirsty menace. It was just a stroke of luck that prevented her from having a run in with one of Rhysol's wild spawn.

Kaie growled to herself then, eyes becoming like slits out of pure frustration. She just simply didn't understand. It's not like her snares could've just sprouted legs and run off on her.

"Alright. Seriously. What the actual petch?" She hissed quietly in her native Myrian tongue, staring up at the sky as if demanding an explanation for her misfortune. Eventually she decided it would be best if she reevaluated her search. Maybe she had counted wrong.

Kaie returned to her marker, a fresh slash along the length of a large tree, and retraced her steps. She counted each pace meticulously, doing her best to avoid error. Until finally she hit her target. Thirty-six. And she was back to the same spot she started. Dumbfounded and without a trap in sight. She might've started angry hacking at the nearest tree with her sword and lost all sanity. That is if she hadn't smelled the smoke. Someone or something was nearby...And far too close for comfort.

Kaie gripped her bow with new purpose, an arrow already on the string. She lowered herself into a primitive crouch and advanced forward. Minimizing the sound of leaves and twigs under her feet wasn't easy but she did her best. Every now and then her feet would crunch unpleasantly upon the ground, causing the Myrian woman to pause hesitantly. When no danger rushed her, she continued. Eventually she came across something rather odd. A stack of hay bales this far out? Well, at least they'd provide good cover.

Kaie surveyed the world ahead of her and listened. The stupid piles of hay were obstructed her vision, but the coast seemed pretty clear. No panting wolves or snarling beasts that she could detect. After a quick inhale and exhale, the Myrian woman made her move. She shot forth in her crouch with quick feet toward the bales as quietly as she could. Once she reached them, she lowered herself onto her knees with her back against the hay. Just as she was leaning over low to glance around her cover, something struck the bales with shocking force.

The savage woman stumbled forward onto her hands, thankfully not falling into plain sight. Then she turned onto her back, arrow pulled back on the string of her bow to fire at her assailant. Much to her surprise, there was no one. There was, however, an arrow tip peeking out from the back of one of the bales. It was only about a foot above where her head had once been. Talk about a little too close for comfort.

"Nice shot!" Kaie called out from her hiding place, realizing no matter which direction she moved, her position was compromised. Might as well meet the friendly archer at this point. There wasn't much choice in the matter."I'll come out if you promise not to shoot me," She added for good measure, her tone pretty casual for someone who was basically screwed. What a terrible position she had put herself in. It probably wasn't much better that she was grinning about it, either.

[Inoadar]

Inoadar seized his reaction with frozen awareness. His twitch, when the voice had startled him, had caused involuntary motion. He made a quick rundown of his position, wanting to ensure that neither continued tension nor relaxation was going to cause anything unpleasant to occur before he moved.

He'd carefully checked for twig triggers and pit traps before he'd made camp. He knew that the tendrils of various ground cover plants could be used as lines for springing projectile traps, but he'd seen nothing of that sort either. It also occurred to him that Handy had not nickered or stamped a warning of any hostile approach. Had it been wolves, the horse would have been neighing and rearing, tugging the line free of the branches by now.

He knew there were other predators in the woods, and the humanoid types were the worst of all. He had already fired a few bolts into his "target" with no traps engaging, so he reasoned that loading his crossbow again should bring no misfortune upon him, unless he was being watched now, possibly a nocked arrow aligned with his throat. He didn't believe for a moment that this person, who'd reached the perimeter of his campsite completely undetected, even by his horse, was not prepared with a weapon.

He slowly rose, being sure to keep his head and neck from being too long in one spot. He slipped another bolt free and called back to the landscape beyond his target, "I need to check my stew anyway. If you care to come in...slowly...I can promise I will shoot no arrows." He walked to his campfire, keeping his eyes from looking at it directly. He bent down as though he was stirring it, stepping into the loading brace at the front of the crossbow's stock. This allowed the strength of his legs to hold the body of the crossbow down while he stood, pulling back the drawstring until it slipped into the release notch.

Depending on the manner of the strange woman's approach, he would either slip the bolt into the empty channel and turn the weapon on her, or let it sit in the shadow beside the boulder he used as a seat, while he kept the bolt up his sleeve. He had on his chain shirt and his Nettle Cloak to complement the leggings from his old leather armor. As well as his boots with the spring blades in the toes, though he hadn't gotten the one in the left foot fixed yet.

[Kaie]

Slowly. Okay, understandable. I can handle those terms.

Kaie took a deep breath in and then out again. Air came out of her lungs like fog, and the Myrian woman watched it drift upwards for a moment. It was like she was procrastinating her own fate. Yet after a moment of calm, she decided to see if the man would honor his word.

The woman scooched up to the edge of the bales, then slowly turned her head to peer around them. What she saw was not a bow aimed at her position, ready to strike. Instead it was just a man stirring his pot. A little too innocent of a charade for her test, but she'd have to come out somehow. So she did. Kaie tried to think ahead, already trying to one up the stranger for the unpredictable. Like a small cannon, Kaie shot up on the other side of the hay bales from where she might've been expected. She hoped the total change of location behind the wall would've been enough to give her that extra moment to search out hostility. Her hands were up, palms in full view and raised close to her chest. "I mean you no harm," her body language cried though her face was a little less readable. Or so she hoped.

"Nice little stew you have going here, yes? I guess you don't live outside Ravok?"Kaie said to create a little small talk, all the while she was easing forward toward the fire as her "host" allowed."You can put that away now. I've no intention of roughing you up right now," She added with a gentle sigh, a half grin forming at her lips. What exactly that was, Kaie hadn't a clue. Best to be vague anyways. Perhaps it would give the stranger an illusion she was more clever they he might've taken her for. Maybe.

"You have a name?" She asked, though for all her questioning, Kaie was hardly demanding. In another situation like this, she might've pretended to itch her back and instead reach for her kukri. Here though, this man had the upper hand and there was no doubt he was probably more prepared than she. The last thing she needed was to get some sort of weapon to the throat, though. If he wished to begin no conflict, Kaie would do her best not to initiate it. Her eyes watched him closely, studying his every move. With luck she'd see any signs of aggression before he could act on that. Hopefully she would sense nothing today.

[Inoadar]

The woman's sudden movement prompted his own. Stepping and turning to face her, Inoadar swung the crossbow up, setting the bolt in place as he then switched hand positions to steady his aim. She was still far enough away that he didn't feel it necessary to do more than hold it, waist high, in her general direction.

"SLOWLY, I said." he warned, observing her subsequent attitude of apparent submission, hands up and empty. Her small talk did little to convince him he had overreacted. "Yes, it IS nice. I'm expecting a few wolves to provide more meat." he added sarcastically, then hefted the crossbow pointedly in her direction. "But if you make any more quick moves like that last one I may settle for you."

Somehow, the wording of her next question annoyed him as well, as if she was some outdoor extremist, ready to criticize all city dwellers as soft. "No, I don't LIVE outside Ravok, but I've nearly DIED out here a number of times...wolves...and I've got the scars to prove it if you don't believe me."

She approached slowly now, suggesting he put the weapon away. Her humor was not very effective under the circumstances. Perhaps she thought he was sort of man to assume that NO woman could possibly be a physical threat to a man. Not only did he know better, but he was already thinking she was some sort of Kelvic. They had come after him before after his interrogation session at the Research Institute last Spring. And then he had enjoyed the intangible advantages of being in his own shop.

He now had some Wildleash poison. He had spent some time and suffered another attack by wolves in the process of acquiring the fungal elements he needed to finish it. He switched the crossbow to a one-hand hold while he fished the vial from his pack. He dumped a dose in the stew and resumed his two-hand hold on the weapon. If she was a Kelvic, the poison would not effect him, but would cause her to undergo uncontrolled morphs and then fall unconscious, awakening to a passive condition that would keep her under control for an hour or two.

"Okay Miss, I'll tell you what. For reasons I intend to keep private, you fit the bill to be someone that might be a Kelvic intending to do me harm. I should probably just shoot you, but instead, I'd let you come and have a bowl of stew. In fact, I insist!" He once again emphasized his words by using the crossbow to gesture for her to come sit down by the fire as he took a few steps back.

"Now, I can understand if you are concerned that I've put something in the stew. And I'm honest enough to tell you that I HAVE. But it will only affect you if you're a Kelvic. So either transform so I know if your animal form is a serious threat to me, or please help yourself so I can see if there's a reaction. Just fill one of these bowls, then I will take a few bites so you can see it's harmless."

He hoped she would comply. He had every intention of abiding by his own terms. But if she refused, he could neither let her approach any closer, nor allow her to leave. And that only left one option.

"Yes, I have a name. You can call me 'Tyrell." He recalled that this was what he'd had Irriari, the Zith woman, call him when they went into the wilds. It was not his real name, after all, and if he had to kill her, it wouldn't matter what she would have called him.

[Kaie]

Slow. Right. We're trying to be civil with this guy, remember? We're not trying to have a stand off, because at this distance with his weapon, you're at a loss. So let's play nice for a little bit.

"Alright, alright. Slow it is," She assured the man far more skittish than she appeared to be. She couldn't blame him of course. It was technically his camp she was intruding upon, even if she was sure her snares were places somewhere around here. His sudden accusation, however, caught her a little off guard. Kaie didn't know whether to be offended or downright confused. More so, he wanted to test her race? A little bizarre by all accounts. "Listen, I'm not a Kelvic. And I can promise you if I was out here to do you harm, you'd know it," She reasoned with an arched brow, lip almost curling in distaste. If she was trying to hurt him, this would've been an odd tactic. However, after watching him, she decided she'd abide by his ridiculous terms.

Kaie took a bowl and took the liberty to filling it with stew herself. If she was going to die from some poisoned meal, she'd lead herself to Dira all on her own. When the task was complete she gave the man a look, nodding at the stew with her chin. "Okay, Tyrell. You first."

[Inoadar]

Inoadar gave her a courteous nod and picked up a wooden spoon. He kept his eyes on the stranger, curious to see if her eyes tracked the weapon or the hand lifting the spoon. It appeared that she took in more than just those two features of the situation. His appraisal of her competence, and therefore her potential threat, rose a notch as she seemed to lock away the entire layout of his campsite in her memory.

He stepped around the other side of the fire to dip his spoon in the pot. He tried to look as indirectly as possible toward the actual flames. He did not want the residual image burning itself into his vision in case this girl suddenly launched herself at him. It was getting late enough for the dazzle of the flames to leave blurry, visual streaks that would give an opponent an edge.

If she was a Kelvic, the minute he took this bite of stew, she'd have to be planning a move. His ploy was odd enough to be true, and he suspected she knew it. She'd have to eat it and suffer the consequences or attack. Of course, if she was NOT a Kelvic, then no harm done. He brought the spoonful to his mouth, pausing just a moment to gauge her level of tension.

He felt rather foolish, after taking the spoonful, when she did nothing but grace him with an "I told you so" smile. But if she was truly at home in the wilds, she would know that you take nothing for granted. "Well, I guess you should probably wait a chime, to make sure I don't suddenly drop dead before you eat. But I DO still expect you to eat before I lower my guard."

He sat back against a nearby stump, turning his side as he pocketed the spoon. He had another just like it, and contrived to switch it in the pocket that one would have assumed him to place the original in. But the copy had a hidden feature. Two small holes, drilled just under the cusp of the scoop. Sealed with wax, each hole contained a dose of Dark Reaving poison. If placed in something hot, a pot of stew over a campfire, for instance, the wax would melt and release the poison.

A single dose would make the average human deathly ill and disoriented. They would probably survive, but there would be a long time that they would wish for death. BOTH doses would accommodate this wish. If this woman was to fool him and somehow get the best of him, there was a good chance that she would decide to eat the harmless but hearty stew as well. Needing a spoon of some sort, she'd search him and quickly find the spoon right where she saw him place it. Using that spoon to eat the hot stew would accomplish Inoadar's revenge. And if, by some chance, she had not killed him yet, he would have the bargaining strength of possessing an antidote.

He allowed the crossbow to sag, it's point targeting the ground a few feet in front of the woman. "I suppose you think I'm being overly careful. Well, you may be right, but there have been many cases where you'd NOT be. I come out here to gather supplies for my trade in town, and I have run into wolves all too frequently. But I do like it out here," he looked around nonchalantly.

After what had to be more than a single chime, he motioned at the bowl. "Come on, dig in. You say you're not a Kelvic, and I promise the stew's not poisoned. I have my reasons for being concerned about non-collared Kelvics. Once I know you're not one, I can put this away," he patted the crossbow, keeping it pointed at the ground. "So I've...I've given you a name you can call me. What do I call you?"

[Kaie]

Kaie considered his statement and nodded once and slowly, a brow raising. She hadn't quite expected a potential poisoner to give a little advice to ensure her own safety. Really she was hoping after he took a quick sip, she'd state her intention of waiting for effect.

"That's fair," She agreed, eyes following his every movement best she could. Kaie watched where both hands were, studied the distance between his arm span and the crossbow. If he changed his mind and tried to go after her, how much time would she have to strike before he lifted and aimed the weapon? What places provided the best cover? Which direction would be best to escape? These were all things the Myrian woman analyzed and questioned. There was always the possibility things could go awry.

"Your trade. Guessing by the very specific stew you have here, I'll say you work with poison often. Looking for specific plants?" She speculated though she didn't seem to really be inquiring about his position, more so she was thinking aloud. Her eyes didn't stay on the man long after her observation, for now it was her turn to drink. When she gave a word, she kept it.

Kaie lifted the bowl to her lips and then tipped the bowl back. Warm liquid poured down the back of her throat, ridding her innards of the crisp cool of fall for but a moment. And then when her sip was complete she lowered the bowl and placed it up upon the ground. Then would come the wait. Kaie then folded her fingers together and leaned forward, eyes bright.

"I am called Kaie," The Myrian woman stated smoothly, not bothering to give her clan name with her given one. There was no use for the man, to have her clan name. There was no harm in keeping that one just for herself. "You keep talking about wolves. Are they really as common as they say?"

[Inoadar]

Inoadar watched her for a moment. His responses carrying a tone of distance as he watched her for a reaction to the Wildleash poison. "Yes...Wolves. I see them frequently...I've collected a...decent share of...bounty money off of them...I had my ankle...maimed so badly it...took three seasons to heal...I walk with a cane...most of the time. But not that often here in the wild...Because I can ride my horse to cover distance." He started to focus on his words more now, now that he was satisfied that she was not a Kelvic. "In town, it's all walking, and my ankle used to get pretty sore."

He didn't mention the strange man, Wrenmae, that had served as an assistant for a season, and how so many odd things had occurred during this time. He didn't mention how his ankle had been on the verge of being fully healed after only one season, only to turn septic and suddenly worsen, festering and weeping inexplicably. He'd come close to losing it, staving off gangrene only with a torturous regimen of cleaning and scraping. This too, had corresponded with Wrenmae's presence, and had waned again with his departure for Syliras.

It was easier to simply tell a story of horrific maulings. Of wolves leaping to catch the ankle of his boots as he tried to climb out of their reach. Tales of their weight dragging him back to the ground to be swarmed over with snarling, tearing teeth and ripping claws. One set of teeth pulling on his pants leg to drag his leg out so the next beast could rip his legs to pieces. Arms and wrists being treated the same, only the hidden spikes in his Nettle Cloak giving him an edge. An edge not only against the initial bite, but hindering further grips, as well as the infliction of the poisons dosed on select spikes.

And the howls and snarling barks, muffled only by wads of flesh hindering their tongues. Filling your ears with their deafening cacaphony, a mugging of the ears, beaten into submission by the endless din of feral taunting. The echoing and ringing in a forced syncopation of savage blasts, roars and howls, celebrating their hatred of you. Their delight in your death.

His eyes stared into memories as he spoke, his look hard, with an expression close to wincing in pain. Nearly imperceptible spasms twitching as traumatized nerves remembered being torn from skin and sinew. And even victory over the endless odds just a precursor to the agony of cleaning and cutting the wounds free of unsalvageable flesh.

He looked over at Kaie, the crossbow in his hands forgotten as it targeted the ground beside his feet. "I've nearly suffered the same at the hands...well, claws...and teeth of Kelvics as well." He slid the bolt free of the channel and dry-fired the weapon. He maintained his grip on the stock though. If this woman, Kaie, attacked him now, it would still make a handy bludgeon.

He leaned back, letting the crossbow rest, tip down, against the stump on which he sat. He took a deep breath and spoke up, his voice suddenly lighter as if the recollections had never been. "So Kaie, what's your story? You live out here? And you've never seen wolves?"

[Kaie]

Kaie listened the man, her brain torn between her anxiety over the potential poison and the loot to be earned with the pelts of wolves. It would be something for the warrior woman to keep in mind. Apparently this had had a really bad run in with the animals, but maybe she could make her encounter different. Somehow, perhaps she could find a way to gain an advantage. Setting some traps or poaching them off from afar. Possibilities were endless, and though it would seem she was fueled by greed, that simply wasn't the case. Kaie just understood travels were things to be funded. Without coin, she'd never return to Falyndar.

"Sorry about your leg then. Hopefully if I find myself surrounded by a similar pack, my outcome will be more favorable," She offered a bit of condolence in her words, noting she'd experienced no malicious effects on her body thus far. Kaie watched Tyrell just then, eyes searching his as he disappeared somewhere far from the camp. She noted the look he had made, one of something similar to a small agony. It only then occurred to Kaie she might've been underestimating the brutality of the wild wolves.

"I hear you there," Kaie admitted with a bitter laugh at mention of Kelvic attacks. She brushed a stray curl from her face behind her ear, almost grinning at the memory."Ever had Kelvic tigress on your back?" She asked while raising a brow, eyeing the man with a playful expression. Naturally she hadn't a clue what sort of Kelvics he squared up against nor why, but surely he could sympathize with such a showdown.

"My story?" Kaie asked the man shortly after, her brow furrowing at the very question as if she was confused by it. It was a very natural request to be made by a stranger, especially in the circumstance she was in. However, her story was not often one she enjoyed sharing. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time it was told. There was one man in Syliras, but that was all. And he was gone now. It seemed everyone was gone nowadays, or at least worlds away. How far back was this man asking? [color=#ecb58a]"No, I don't live out here. I just rode in from Syliras on...Business. I'd rather avoid the city life, so my employer has arranged a place for me out here. For one reason or another, his servants aren't ever overjoyed by the prospect of me leaving. So I stopped asking," She explained indifferently, shrugging her shoulders at her own tale. Tyrell had at least dry-fired the weapon, leaving the crossbow temporarily out of the equation. It seemed reason enough to at least try to socialize with the guy who opted not to put an arrow in her chest.