Completed [Towards the Cobalt’s] Closing the neck

[Fallon]

54th Fall 513 AV

It was a twittering of noise and the morning chorus that dragged Fallon out of her blurred state. Eyes gave a blink, her limbs stiff and aching. With her mind surfacing she felt a distinct restriction lying across her, before her head finally released a cry of pain and discomfort. Her hand gingerly touched the swelling, cold hands stroking against the definite bump that rested there. At least now she did not feel so dizzy. Her eyes lowered to the giant form of Orvin. During the night he had sprawled on top of her, thick fur against her form and trapping the heat from both. And protecting both of them from the cool of the dark hours. Although she did not expect to freeze to death outside at present – it was only mid autumn after all – she was aware that it would indeed prove fresh to say the least. Her head tilted to the previously dug out fire pit with the dark ash that rested there, the burned wood still producing thin wisps. Her eyes turned to the short bow and arrows that were propped against the slope opposite her, still and unmoving where she left them. The kukri was resting next to her, drawn and within immediate reach – just in case something did come close during the night.

There was a stretch, lips smacking together to the dryness that existed there. Her head turned to the water skin the other side of her, a sleepy hand reaching out to grab and pick it up. Fingers fumbling she brushed off the mud around it and pulled the cork. Drinking from the cold water within, she let it run free, the sensation consuming and controlling her state. Glugging it she wiped away the moisture as her companion begun to stir. The wolf gave a yawn, a paw pressing against the armour she wore. Giving a shudder she corked the skin, and rubbed Orvin around the face, ”Well, good morning to you too handsome.”

Shoulders rolling, she laid her head back down, her eyes looking up to the branch roof she had constructed above her yesterday, the shadow of damp leaves and morning dew having plastered itself against them. For a while she simply laid there, mind working over the events of the previous day. Rubbing at her brow she wiped the layer of moisture to one side, fingers pinching at her skin, her brow having knitted itself in a peculiar fashion – what the petch did happen? She inhaled the damp air, her eyes turning to the faint glow above the tree line. Eyes blinked, her hand blocking out the morning light. A groan escaped; legs moving and becoming animated, the heavy weight of Orvin being forced into movement. He rolled off, and let out a huff of displeasure.

Sitting herself up Fallon recalled the ditch, she could feel the strain of running and the roaring beat of the heart. She felt the grasp of battle, the urgency of fighting commanding her. She rotated her jaw, wincing slightly to the distinct pain. She had definitely hit her head against something – that much she remembered. A hand reached for the kukri and slid it away, before with sluggish limbs she fumbled for the waterskin, bow and arrows. It took a lot of effort to roll onto her side, muscles refusing to awake, the crunching of mud against her back far from apparent. Grasping at the broad roots of a tree she hauled herself up. Toes pressed against the ground, a force of weight beneath her as she grappled and pulled. It was with a gasp she reached her feet, a gentle rock upon them as she gained her bearings and stood solid.

[Fallon]

Breathing in the morning air, she let her shoulders slump and her posture fall. There was another, louder yawn from Orvin as he padded up behind her with a sleepy expression upon his face. She gave a few, testing steps forward with her hand extended and touching the rough bark. Her mind teetered upon the edge, a moment of discovery and remembrance just within her grasp. There was a sharp turn, her eyes looking about the woods with a moment of confusion and panic. Bandits, that was what happened. Her hand went to the hilt of her blade, a dizzied stagger as she tried to take in her surroundings.

”Oh petch… Oh petch!” Why did it take so long to remember? Why did she have the creeping sensation of worry forming in her pit? She gave a sharp turn, her eyes looking for a sign to follow, a glimmer of something familiar in the vast track of wilderness. She pivoted once more, quick steps, a stagger and a stumble. She had spent the night out there, sleeping within the rough, her back set to aching. There was a stumble her thoughts surfacing sharper and more violently, ”Petch… petch… petch… Orvin! To heel!”

The under growl returned to her throat, the deep set rumble trembling in the back. She gave a snapping glance to him and shook the feeling off. Orvin gave her a glance, head cocking his eyes looking upon her almost with concern. He pushed his head against her, large eyes staring up before finally pulling away. She knew what he was trying to say, it was time to move on. Least that was the impression she got. Her chest rose, her eyes turning about in the light. The first call however was something much more important. She knew she was within the Bronze woods, that much was a fact. The coppery colour of the bark gave it away. But where specifically was an issue. She gave a turn round on the spot, teeth chewing on her lips with a distinct sense of annoyance. A point of reference was needed, somewhere to at least guide her back to the Kabrin or to one of the patrol routes of the knights.

But right now there was an even more pressing issue.

Water and sustenance, supplies designed to keep her going and alive. The body needed strength to keep going; it needed fluids to keep her hydrated and food for nutrition. Of course, in order for food she would have to hunt or forage. Of course the dilemma then came as to what she could use. She gave a tug at the bow string, testing it almost; a firm shake of the head as she tried to focus and cling on to some sense of bearings. She could try and back track, but which way was that even? Blinking the squire turned down to the wolf with a frown upon her face, and then once more to her surroundings. There was no two ways about it, no matter how she looked at it. It became a deep resounding worry, a niggling thought that pressed upon her mind. She was lost without an idea as to which way to go.

She paced the edge of the ditch for a while, warming up her aching muscles in the dawning hours and feeling the heat of the rays upon her skin. Her hands ran across the ground, searching for her own prints to use. Everything seemed to turn desperate after that. Her mind unable to work properly she sent herself forward, a stagger and a stumble. Shaky hands held tightly onto the shaft of the bow, another already set at holding the arrow notched and ready. Keeping her form low and her feet light she focused on keeping moving, she had stayed still for long enough during the night and now the day light bells were here she was at the risk of being discovered once more by those same bandits.

[Fallon]

Whistling quietly, the girl inclined her head for Orvin to stay close. She would need all the help she could get, more so if she was to get out in one piece. Feet trampled upon the ground and the low snap of twigs sent her freezing the movement something seemed out of place. A sense of paranoia had consumed, her guard raised for the better. Even a simple yawn from Orvin has the effect to make her flinch. The amount of times that she had sent a glare to the creature was gradually becoming frequent. Peering around a broad tree the squire stopped to focus upon it, her brow knitted together. She heard something beyond it, a distinct hissing noise from a distinct dip just beyond and something she could not quite distinguish.

Steadying her breathing the squire tightened her hold on the bow, her nostrils flaring and the clear pulse within her neck. Shuffling a foot out she took her archery stance, bow arm straight and the arrow pulled back. The string trembled. Taking a cautious step out Fallon approached the rocky outcrop, her feet digging into the gentle slope up to it. Orvin only followed for a few steps then quickly bolted onwards, no hesitation in his movements. She gave a shout of protest as he dipped out of sight.
”Orvin!” she shouted after him as she scrabbled after him. Her muscles gave a scream, the bow remaining drawn and keen. She placed a foot upon the rock, caution discarded in an instant as her form whip over.

There was a distinct splash when she landed the other side, followed by a wet chill creeping into her boot. Boots pressing against the tumbled pebbles of the gully, the water flowing over the leather and between the creases. It was hard not to let out a squeal or surprise, a gasp at the ice cold fluid that moved around her ankles. Clambering up the soil on other side she threw down the bow and arrow, and planted her hands upon the earth. She could already hear the greedy lapping of Orvin over the stream, the tongue darting out here and there to absorb fluids. Which was no doubt for the better. Grimacing the squire looked to the water below, admiring how such an element could carve itself out of the very earth. She rubbed at her jaw, a heavy sigh escaping. Maybe she was simply riling herself up too much, maybe the danger had indeed passed for now. Maybe she was indeed safe from harm and injury. For now at least.

Claiming her water skin she took a long slurp from it and once more corked it. Her eyes however were looking suspiciously to the flow below. The wolf did not seem put off from its substance, but it did not mean she should follow suit. Moving slightly further up the gentle gradient, Fallon shuffled her way past the creature, her head bowing down to study the flow. It seemed clear and untainted, the rippling surface producing a poor mirror to look into. She could barely pick out the bruising that had risen, but by the gods it hurt. Pulling off her gloves, she cupped her hands and scooped it up. There was a sniff. Well, it smelt alright, but then water generally lacked a scent she found. Plus there seemed to be the absence of little pieces floating about in it. At least, that was until it finally ran free from her hold and back into the gully. Repeating the process she looked again, and gave a taste with her tongue. No, still nothing.

Taking a mouthful she swirled it around, eyes narrowing with careful thought. Although she would rather to have boiled the liquid before hand to destroy the impurities that were there, Fallon did not exactly carry the equipment or supplies to do so. Thus it became a necessary risk to take for her survival, or at least her survival until she ran into some knights or something she could work with. She took a big gulp and repeated the process once more. It seemed good enough to her, or at least there were no immediate issues she could pick out. After hydrating herself, the squire pushed herself away and stood. She surveyed the land, her eyes looking up the gentle slope between the trees, her eyes lifting and rising so they moved higher. In the distance the ground lipped into the sky. She chewed at her lip and clambered up onto the large rocks to gain a better view.

[Fallon]

Trees of bronze stretched as far as she could see. The breaking of pine and oak here and there, the tinting of leaves to orange and red. She gave a frown, the bow shaft and arrow held tightly within a shaking hand. She could see no sign of civilisation, no sound of movement apart from the back ground twittering of birds. She gave her shoulders a roll, and looked up towards the slope. Summoning her exact location was a difficult one. There was nothing she could particularly use as reference par the upwards slope. If it was the Cobalt’s, then that would mean she was a good way out – frighteningly so. She gave a whistle to Orvin, followed by a pat next to her. Of course, if she had managed to get this far out on foot then surely she would be able to guide herself back?

She remembered her mad, blind run from the previous day and promptly let out a sigh. She ran out here with no sense of direction, she would have to return with the same method. Uttering a curse she pivoted round, eyes turning as she tried to find north. A hand pointed towards the low autumn sun that begun its rise in the east, her arm stretching up and outwards towards the sky. She gave a turn, her arm twisting round to form a right angle and then was promptly thrown forward. Eyes looking down the length of her limb, Fallon made the direction Northwards – out of hope more than anything – and clambered down from the rock. Walking with the slope on one side and the forest on the other. Weeds and outcrops marked the way, the girl leading with the wolf behind.

With the bow ever drawn, she pushed on, her eyes scanning and watching what was there. She could not let her guard down, not yet. In a sense she was grateful for the presence of her companion, serving as a reassurance to her mind and leaving her somewhat certain he was serving as a deterrent for wild animals. Least that was what she told herself. As the sun rose higher did the air continue to warm. Aching limbs came alive, the movement swifter and quicker. She scrabbled as she pushed along, hands grasping onto rocky out crops as she fought to keep balance. The land beneath her was changing, turning into territory she truly did not know. But that did not stop her; she still had to push on regardless.

She could not give up. Not yet. She had to get through this one way or another.

Pressing against a rock she gave a pause. Her chest laboured, her breathing already turning ragged from the quick march she forced. There was an ease down upon the slope, a stretching of legs. Orvin was already padding around her, a nervous energy having consumed his form with a set alertness upon his face. Cocking her head towards him, she felt the look of bemusement consume her. Not that it lasted. It was a firm nudge from his snout that pushed her on. A low growl erupted from his throat, his eyes looking back and burning into the tree line. There was a pause, a voice upon the wind. A shout. She felt her companion hurry her along, a matter of urgency as she did. Something was wrong. Why else would he start behaving like this?

Legs gave a strain, her form keeping low as she dipped between the low trees. The soft earth crumbled beneath, roots snagged at her as she continued on through. Orvin however continued to lead, his head turning back to check his master on occasion. She gave a hiss after him, ”Orvin! What is it?” But otherwise there was no response, just a distinctive growly growing louder by the tick. Footsteps grew louder, a rush between as she was pushed back down into the main woodland. The wolf ran on a head once more, urgency filling every step. She gave a stumble, toes catching and snagging upon the uneven earth. Palms lapped against the ground, the force of falling halted by outstretched hands. Chest giving a heave she looked on ahead to Orvin as he gave only a glance back at her, eyes wide before looking past. His ears fell flat, his form shrinking down before he bolted off.

”Orvin! Orvin wait!” Fallon clambered up to her feet, not waiting to brush the dirt off. She gave a falter as her leg protested, the twinges grasping the muscles. Had she done something in her stumble or had the limb simply given up? Her teeth gritted, a firm push and a stagger as she force the dash once more. Orvin by this point had bolted on ahead, his white fur dipping between the browns and golds. There was only the occasional glance back, that moment of faltering before she herself stared. There stood a man staring and making a gradual advance. He were no knights, they were lacking the armour to be such. There was no rush in their steps, no push for an advance. But, his intentions seemed clear enough with how he was staring directly at the girl. It was a creeping fear that rushed in and consumed.

[Fallon]

Everything became a scramble, the beat upon the earth from feet, the laboured breaths, even the parting of lips as she panted and tore after her companion. A part of her did niggle at the idea she was jumping to a conclusion. That perhaps there was nothing wrong and he was no foe. Or a simple hunter who just happened to carry a very intense stare. Fallon was not about to wait around to find out though. She caught a glimpse of Orvin, and picking up her legs she darted towards him, only to have him dip away once more.

There was a moment of suspension in the air as she gave a tumble into a thorny ditch. Hands raised around her face, a distinct grunt as she landed and tried to protect herself from being prickled. Thorns snagged at her coat, the tiny threads catching as she pulled on through. She gave a glance about, wriggling and crawling her way up the other side of the ditch. She grasped upon a branch, the brittle wood breaking in her grasp as she clawed her way up. Front dragging in the mud she pulled herself up out of the twisting branches, a quick glance back to check her footing. Her hand fumbled forward, reaching out for something to grasp and pull with the other. Or at least until she registered what exactly she had grasped.

Fingers drummed, the hand releasing then patting what it was up and down. An ankle and a leg greeted her. Sheepishly she turned her eyes up, a sheepish stare from the male owner. Glancing up, further she turned her head to the patting of an axe shaft within his hand. There was a mean look, a deep snort as he sucked in the phlegm. Grimacing she solidified her eyes upon him, a nervous blink as she pulled herself the final way out.
”Now… look what we have here…” He leaded down to her height, a wicked grin upon his lips. His breath stank, ”You definitely are no rabbit…. Are you now? Now why is a little lady-” She shot a glare as she finally got to her feet, her hand falling straight to the tulwar. There was a glance round for Orvin, seeing if she could see her companion. Although a repeat of the previous day would be appreciated, she had a feeling it would be highly unlikely. Her movement did not go unnoticed, and so the raggedy man simply gave a toothy grin, ”No need for that now… don’t want there to be an… accident, do we now? Be a shame if a little lady got-“
”I am a squire of the knights,” she let out a growl, eyes piercing, ”Not some little lady.”

Laughter was what came next, the raggedy man turning away and out of her grasp. There was the shake of the head, and the flick of the hand as he made space, ”A squire… I see, I see…” there was a pause, ”Well then… you should have no problem then.” Her eyes gave a narrow, her grip loosening upon the hilt top. Something did not feel right, her own niggling tiredness and insecurities crawling out of her mind. She scanned the surroundings, eyes tuning and meeting the shapes of others moving about in the undergrowth. Tens of eyes were watching, the gap closing in.
”No problem, against what?” she demanded. She felt herself rising up onto her toes, her shoulders rolling inwards. The call for flight beckoned her, more so when her eyes failed to land upon Orvin once more, ”What do you mean?”
“Gods help us,” There was a smirk, the grip upon the axe handle changing, “You squires are getting thicker every damned time!”

[Fallon]

The edge came swinging out at her. Leaping back, she gave a wobble, uneven footing landing upon the slope, her arm being thrown out to aid in maintaining balance. Pushing against the floor she threw herself to the side, a full sweeping drop before she made a dash past the man.
”Shyke man! That’s the lass from yesterday! What the petch you think you’re doing letting her get away!” came the echoing shout from behind. She did not dawdle on the words of the others, she was already thinking on making a beeline away. She gave a duck behind the tree, her back pressing against the bark.

Pulling her bow off she fumbled for an arrow. Holding the feathers between her fingers she gave a glance about. She caught the glimpse of the wolf once more in the distance, a watching gaze as he stalked around. Blood was around his chops once more, the firm dart of a pink tongue as he dipped once more into the undergrowth. Shoulders hunching in with the arrow pulled back and ready, Fallon darted after him, a constant guard up and ready to fire at whatever looked remotely threatening – even if it was far from the case. She knew she was far from a good shot, but part of her was hoping to at least deter whatever came near.

Turning she gave a glance back at the way she came, eyes looking to the slower moving shadows behind her. The silhouettes of men grew clearer with each tick, pushing and chasing her forward. Conclusion jumping was no longer relevant. Whoever they were carried the distinct scent of danger around them, the swing of the axe, the strange subtleness. But why was there no rush? Why where they being slow? She felt a tug from Orvin on her coat, the wolf having bounded up to her. Teeth gripped on, a firm pull from her companion to lead her deeper into the thicket. There was no time to stop; there was no time for rest.

It was hard not to release a screech as an arrow came hurtling her way. She threw herself to the floor, her own being released off somewhere between the ferns, her hands cupping over her head. Rolling she crawled back up, a wild leap as another shot past. Laugher echoed through the air, the silent bronze trees watching the man hunt below. Tumbling down a slope, she scrabbled forward, pushing on through and making a break for it. Or at least until her feet came skidding to a stop.

”Petch…” she breathed, ”More of them?” Eyes darted to and fro as she counted them. Three men stood before in the distance, a slow advance that cut off her route. Chest heaving she gave a wheeze, looking back to the other handful that was coming from behind. She wasted little time after that. Pivoting on her heel she went to the right, a mad scramble between the narrowing trees. She gave a shout to Orvin, a broad point into the surrounding forest, ”Scatter!”

It did not matter where; it did not matter how, but right now the ways out where limited. Knees rose as she leapt the log, her feet snagging upon it. She gave a trip, a flail before she pushed on again. She did not look to see where Orvin was. She was too busy running and trying to escape whoever it was. The ground turned again, the tree line thinning as she once more found the slopes. Reaching for an arrow from her quiver she gave a whip round, eyes looking back and forth, and a momentary pause. She needed to fight back, she needed to force her way out. Else, at this rate she would never get back. She nocked the arrow, her sight pulsating, the distinct taste of iron and copper in her mouth. She had run herself ragged within these moments. Her legs gave a shake, her sight turning to the gloom between the leaves.

[Fallon]

”Petch… Petch it all,” she steadily raised the bow, her eyes sweeping slowly back and forth. She gave a wince, the tensing of muscles that were on the urge of surrendering, of trembling legs that thought only on collapsing. The muscles spasmed; cheeks puffing slight as she forced in the air. Raising her bow arm she brought the arrow up to aim. It was held there, string going tight. The right foot went forward, leading as she focused on the first sign of movement. There was a step back as she caught the shapes of the others between the trees, a curve of several bodies. She still breathed her curses, the bow tip swaying between them. She turned it sharply to one of them, releasing the arrow loose. It shot through the air, and hissed into the fauna out of sight. The next arrow was fumbled for, a shaking arm dragging it out into her grasp.

There was a second step back, the shaft raising as she let another loose. There was a shout of anger, the picking up of steps as she went for a third. The heart raced, the eyes widening as she grasped the fletchings once more. She took another step back, the snap of a twig beneath her foot. It was with a sharp yank that something tightened around her ankle. A rush of air, a yelp of surprise grasping her as the world beneath was ripped from her. The hand let go of the bow, the wood clattering to the floor. The ground was before her, a blur beneath her head whilst her guilty foot remained ensnared. Her shoulders struck against the floor as she returned to the earth, the rest of her dangling above. In a daze she scrabbled for her bow. She watched the upside down approach of the men, the tugging of rope and gloves. She had to get out.

Her hand fumbled for the kukri, fingers gripping around the hilt tightly. Drawing it she watched one of the men – no, bandits – approach at a greater speed. She gave a squirm, throwing a hand up to try and grab at the rope, fingers straining as the tips brushed past. Meeting the earth again she watched the closing of his approach, and so threw herself up again to try and grab it. The rough rope fell into her grasp, muscles straining as she tried to hold on tight. She dragged the Kukri up, and begun pressing the sharp edge against it. She had to go faster, there wasn’t much time. A strand frayed and pulled, a gentle ripping noise. The blade was pressed harder, her grip tightening as she tried to hold on. Her other foot tapped the ground. Muscles gave a strain, a sharp jerk as she felt the rest of it slowly slice away. Her chest gave a rose, a hiss releasing a she did.

Faster dammit! Faster!

Her eyes gave a turn back, checking to see where the bandit was. A look of terror was plastered upon her face, eyes wide, her lips parting as the breath was taken from her. The butt of a shaft struck against her head. An inky black came shortly afterwards, her entire form crumpling down.

It was a distinct cold smell that came to her next, a sore head against cool rock. Her chest rose and fell, the distinct numbing sensation having consumed her limbs. Bleary eyed she looked ahead, the faint glows of canvas and fire coming from several feet away. She gave a roll, feeling her hands upon her back and tight rope around her wrists. Her nose gave a whistle as she breathed in, the dark sky opening before her in a great maw. The faint light of stars gave a tremble, her sluggish mind still coming too. Her head hurt, worse than this morning. She could not feel, the restriction of leathers upon her, the tightness of armour having left. The tulwar and kukri were gone too. She released a grunt, her head returning to the earth beneath her, and then to the looming silhouettes. It did not take a genius to work out who they were. But now the question once more rung out, the same from this morning.

Where on in the name of Eyris was she?

”Ah, petch... So much for getting back.”

[Radiant]

Fallon :

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+2 XP
Running	+2 XP
Acrobatics	+1 XP
Endurance	+2 XP
Weapon: Shortbow	+1 XP
Wilderness Survival	+2 XP

Lores

Lore Earned

Wilderness Survival: Keeping Yourself Hydrated

Bandits In the Bronze Woods

Loots

Notes :

Gah! Cliffhangers! I just have to see the next chapter!

My radiance is not bright enough?

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, beam me a PM and we can work it out.