Closed Frost Bite [Sacred Arch Hot springs] (Katelyn and Marrick)

[Nivel]

75th Day of Winter 514 AV Nivel made a habit of checking the city bulletin board whenever she could, just to see if there was any people in need of help. With the horrible unforgiving weather the storm god had brought upon Syliras it seemed that a lot of people were in need of assistance. The board was practically covered with parchment with all manner of requests. The pycon spotted one that mentioned something about herbs and quickly snatched it off with an outstretched clay arm. Nivel had the start of an obsession about plants that was growing more each day since the Herbalist Ashryn had exposed her to it. No matter how mundane this job might be she would take it if it meant it would help feed her craving for this new knowledge. To Nivels surprise the job was posted by a herbalist from The Mithryn Outpost, If the job was posted all the way in the main city than they must have been in desperate need for help. Nivel stopped to think about what little she knew about herbs and realized that they weren't usually found during the winter. She figured this mystery would be solved when she got to the address written on the post. The Squire first had to find her mount Patcha since there was no way she would be able to get all the way to the outpost without the kelvics help. "Patcha! are you here?" Nivel called out as she slipped in through the crack in the door. The corgi backed and crawled out from under the bed. "We have a mission today Patcha" Nivel informed her. "Let's get your saddle on, a warm coat and head to the OutPost." In no time they were on there way to the Outpost, struggling through the harsh weather. Poor little Patcha was having trouble traversing the unstable ground with the stubby legs but was none the less a trooper. They arrived at nearly midday and quickly scoured the small settlement for the home of this herbalist. They found themselves in front of a small stone building and quickly entered to escape the cold. Inside was an old man warming himself by the fire place, he turned his head from the flame towards the entry way. "who's there?" His already narrow wrinkled eyes narrowing further in suspicion. "Oh don't worry it is I, the great Mage Squire Nivel here to look for herbs for you!" Nivel proclaimed. "ugh bloody kids" The old man said under his breath "I need an ADULT capable of heading to the Hot springs to retrieve some medicine, I MAY be blind as a bat but that fake deep voice don't fool THIS old man!" The old man shook his cane and spit a bit from the mouth as he lectured the poor pycon. "I'm not a child silly, I'm a pycon!" The squire giggled "So What herbs do you need?" "oh..uh...I need Tolm and Belltor roots" The old man mumbled not sure if he was losing his mind to age or not. "Oh I read about Tolm in a book...Whats Beltor?" The crotchety old herbalist was about to explain but was interrupted when the door opened up again.

[Katelyn Marks]

A nasty bout of the flu had been running rampant through the Mithryn Outpost for over a week now. Katelyn was lucky enough to not have caught it. Somehow she'd escaped with nary more than the sniffles, and that had been days ago. Her Patron was one of the unlucky many to be bedridden with fever. There were quite a few at the Garrison who were in recovery, and the days were returning to some form of normality, but things had in general been eerily quiet.

The training grounds were quiet, the Menagerie felt abandoned, and the dining hall that morning had several empty tables. She was honestly getting tired of pampering the sick. Especially her Patron. Men were bad enough when they caught a bug, but it seemed it was ten times worse when they were men of some sort of station. One would think he was dying. A few different times he even almost had her convinced, but enough was enough. He was going to beat this fever and be out of bed in the next few days or so help her she'd scream.

Luckily there was someone who she knew could help her. Kat strode down the street toward the civilian quarters with purpose in each step. The local Herbalist was a grumpy old man, with a supremely sour attitude and a stink eye. But he was the best around. She wasn't going to make an entire day's trip to the city for someone else, so he was her only option. The icy winter wind ripped at her cloak and hair as she made her way to his squat home. By the time she was to the door she was half-running through the snow to escape the bitter cold.

Kat's fist pounded the door loudly, rattling the knocker and shattering the silence of the narrow little street. Few were out in this uncharacteristic weather. It wasn't the average Syliras winter. She shivered hard and knocked again, then leaned closer to the door. She could hear voices inside--one rose a few significant octaves and she recognized it to be the old man. Everyone knew him. He'd taken care of just about every sniffly child at the Outpost for as long as anyone could remember. He'd been old even back then.

Another swift gust tousled her copper hair and ripped at her thick cloak. Her teeth clicked in protest, and unable to take the wind tunnel effect the houses were creating, she shoved the door open and fled into the cottage, stamping the snow from her boots and rubbing her fingers briskly.

She couldn't say the sight that greeted her wasn't odd, but Katelyn was starting to get used to strange things. A small creature with feline features, horns atop its brow, and wings sprouting from its head was standing beside an equally stubby dog with a saddle on its back. Both turned to look at her, as well as the Herbalist. He scowled and ground his teeth in annoyance at the intrusion. His mouth opened in outrage, but Katelyn quickly rushed to explain herself.

"Please, I don't mean to interrupt. I was just coming to fetch something for my Patron. He's sick with fever," she said as her eyes wandered back to the small creature. It looked like a tiny statue, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of deja vu. Her head tilted slightly and a small frown furrowed her brows, before finally a word popped into her head.

"Pycon?" she blurted bluntly, then blushed and shook her head. "Sorry," Kat followed up quickly.

It at least looked like a Pycon. She'd only met one before at the turning of the seasons. They had the same clay-like bodies, blank eyes, and unusual forms. This one more so than Archailist. He'd just been a squirrel. A talking squirrel at that. And a Squire. Such an odd combination. She sighed quickly and mentally kicked herself. Focus. Kat forced her attention back to the disgruntled old man. He didn't seem at all pleased by his guests, but that was just his normal attitude. Why he was in the business of healing was beyond her.

"Can you help me?" she asked him earnestly, still trying to warm her icy hands.

I really need some gloves, the redhead thought absently.

[Marrick Corvis]

Kiter’s breath huffed steamed wisps into the air with each exhale. Her massive hooves plowed through the light bit of snow that covered the ground effortlessly and Marrick felt the most absolute gratitude for his good sense in wearing the extra layer of deer skin under his armor. He felt snug as a tic in the armpit of a bear at that moment. All save for his hands, which were only covered with a light pair of riding gloves and the simple gauntlets he’d been issued. They weren’t freezing, but they weren’t warm either, and he felt himself clenching them hard to stem the icy sensation from the tips of his fingers. He huffed along with his mount as they road down the main road from the Garrison, like a pair of mobile chimneys casting their smoke into the air. A long term stint out in this uncommon weather and there would be icicles hanging from his eyebrows and whiskers to be certain, but there was little chance of an extended trip. All he needed was some herbs from the old man. Old man Whithers was a crotchety old fellow, but he warmed quickly if you offered him strong alcohol, food, or good natured company. Marrick had never had the heart to ask John Whithers about his past, the only thing he was certain of was that it must have been hard. Perhaps that’s why the pale eyed squire felt so accommodating toward the old man. As he drew close to the Herbalists home he halted Kiter with a gentle tug of her reins. The horse was spirited today and she shifted her footing repeatedly before the Kelvic quieted her with a few well timed pats to her shoulder. “Easy lass, won’t be long before Oi take yeh back teh the noice warm menagerie.” With his soothing soft words he dismounted with the soft creek of rubbing leather in his wake. He tied the lead off on a nearby hitch and gave her neck another reassuring stroke or two of his gloved hand. “Fer now, Oi know yeh can handle a bit’a fresh air.” The great Tiaden snorted in his face in complaint but apart from that he knew she would be alright. The last bit of business involved a small firkin of food from his saddle bags. He hoped the drink, boiled and salted potatoes, and savory ham would warm the old man’s disposition. The Garrison was socked with something baleful. Mostly colds, but if you didn’t catch it quickly it turned to respiratory infections and fever. Marrick grit his teeth in memory of his first days trying to kick the fever he’d managed to get. He was lucky he’d been one of the first, coupled with the increased metabolism of a Kelvic and he’d only been under a day or so. But the humans of the Outpost had not been so lucky. Herbs helped immensely, and the pages, and squires dormitory was in need of medicine. The little firkin, was a gift. As he drew close to the large wooden door and fieldstone walls of the building Marrick took a deep cold breath and steeled himself for the onslaught of questions and jibes the old man would have for him until he’d eaten something. He knocked once, and heard the raised voice of the old man. “Blast it all who else could be coming here to bother me on a day like today!!!” Marrick took a step back a moment and looked to his feet. A small boot print, along with the little paw prints of a dog impressed their memory into the snow, and the Kelvic’s brow furrowed in consideration of what other visitors the old man might have. With a purse of his lips he lifted the latch, and he heard the string tug the door loose. “Good’noon day to yeh John. Oi brought yeh somethin from the garrison!” Marrick’s back was to the room as he spoke and closed the door behind him. As he turned the contents of the room caught him by surprise. Squire Marks was the first person he saw. He had known her before she had joined the Order, and she had become a common, but pleasant site about the outpost. The death of her brother had been a hard hit to her soul, but she seemed to have weathered the blow well enough. All Marrick could do was try his best not to treat her like she needed helping, though such in-compassion always left him feeling colder than usual. The next was a little Corgi that barked happily at the site of him. “Patcha! Yah wee pup! What are yeh doin out here!?” Marrick exclaimed with a beaming grin. “Now if yer out here, where is she? Where’s Nivel. Yeh mischievous little Pycon!” When he caught site of the oddly shaped little lively bit of porcelain he hooted in excitement to see his little friend. “Now what in Sylir’s peace brought yeh out here teh Mithryn!?” Marrick exclaimed, the grin on his face expressing nothing but Joy to see so many of his friends in one place. “Hey!” the old man’s gravelly voice cut through the Kelvic’s Merriment like a blade and his smile dwindled down to a hawkish smirk. “My home isn’t a grand hall for drinking and cheerfulness Squire Corvis!” Old man Whithers was sitting comfortably on a small stool by his fire as he often did. A little table with herbs and a Mortar and Pestle nearby. His old and gnarled hands were almost always working, but the Kelvic was willing to bet Mizas that John’s hands ached more than herbs could mend today. “Now now, Mr Whithers that’s naught a koind thing teh say teh a guest that’s brought yeh food n’ drink.” Marrick said, his little smirk growing to a smile again. Not waiting for permission the Kelvic wandered over to one of the old man’s cabinets and withdrew a wooden fork and a stoneware bowl. He stacked the little bowl and fork on top of the firkin and joined the old man by the fire like he belonged there, all the while John Whithers fixed him with the baleful gaze of his partially blind eyes. When Marrick opened the firkin and the steaming scent of the meat and potatoes wafted forth however, the old mans eyes narrowed slightly, and he smacked his lips. “What do you want Squire Corvis? The little bit’a dirt here is answering an advertisement for me, Squire Marks wants herbs, why are you here with this… offering?” The old man said stabbing a salted potatoe with the fork Marrick had brought him. Marrick eyed Katelyn a moment and nodded. He could imagine that David’s brothers condition had gotten worse. David Whitevine had been gone on assignment half of the winter so mercifully the Kelvic wasn’t stuck with an ailing Patron to care for. “Well, everyone wants somethin or needs somethin Oi suppose John. The pages dormitory and the squire’s dormitory needs herbs teh help with the fever’n colds their all sufferin from. As fer the food.” Marrick said as he swiped the clay bottle of mead from the firkin and poured himself a cup before he placed it back on the table. “Oi was jest troyin teh be noice.” While the old man grumbled over the Kelvic’s subtle prod, Marrick turned his attentions back to his companions. “So whats the adventure t’day? Foightin bandits? Keepin the peace? Slayin monsters in the depths of some dark hole?” Marrick smiled genuinely at Katelyn and Nivel. It occurred to him after a short sip of his cup that they might not know one another. So he took it upon himself to make the introductions. “Fergive moy bad manners. Born, a slave, made a squire.” Marrick said with a wink to the pair of them. “Nivel this is Katelyn. Katelyn, Nivel.” The Kelvic took another short sip of his drink and shivered from the kick it had. After he cleared his throat and found his tongue again he passed the cup to Katelyn who seemed to be wringing her hands from the cold. “Nivel is a Mage Squire. We’ve managed a couple scrapes together eh Nivel?” Marrick said with a grin. His focus now on Nivel at last he lilted his head in Katelyn’s direction. “As fer Kat here, she’s new to the order, but she’s possessed of an adventurous spirit. Lots’a potential.” He left out the part about her brothers passing. It wasn’t his place to spread that sort of information, and he wanted the pair of them to have a good first impression of one another. He smiled at them both and nodded toward the old man again. Mr Whithers had begun tearing off little bits of ham and chewing them down with Potatoe in a dainty fashion. Though it was clear he hadn’t eaten well in days. “Feelin a bit better Ser?” Old man Whithers swallowed what he had in his mouth, and nodded. “You two are going to have to go with the Pycon.” The old man said stuffing another boiled potato into his mouth. “mmf, Not enough here for so many mmf cases of fever.” He said through a mouthful of ham and potato. Marrick pursed his lips thoughtfully and nodded. “What will we need teh bring back?” the Kelvic said matter-of-factly. It had become second nature to him to just stick his hands in when work was presented. If a building was on fire. Run in. If Bandits were attacking, charge them. If a solution needed thinking, think on it. “You need, Tolm and Beltor Root, as I was saying to the Pycon. It’s in the list I had out on the board.” The old man huffed a moment. “Why do you dang kids keep bothering me with questions!?” he said before stuffing another hunk of ham into his mouth. His scathing words felt half hearted to the Kelvic, but now wasn't the time to cling to hidden meanings. Marrick’s brow furrowed and he understood the stress the old man must have been under. Random guests assaulting his house filling up space. “Foind peace John, we’ll be outa yer hair momentarily n’ we can let ye be.” The Kelvic’s little smile was calm and pleasant as he watched the old man eat. “We could use a guide teh Oidentify the plant when we foind em. N’ that brings me teh the next bit. Where do we foind em n’ the dead’a winter?” Old man Whithers sniffed at Marricks question as if it smelled of shyke before he grunted and motioned to a few books over the hearth. “The red one should have what you need. As for where, the Hot springs should have growth year round. Now I can’t get out that way cause of my age, so you little nippers best be going. You’ll be hard pressed to get there and back before nightfall.” Marrick rose purposefully and slid the red linen bound book from its place on the hearth and opened its pages. He thumbed his way to the B’s and found Beltor root. A knowledgeable description as well as a watercolor vignette of the plant rested in its pages. The only thing better would have been to see a dried sample, alas there was none to be found. Marrick snapped the book closed and slid it into his pack. “We thank yeh fer yer toime Ser. We’ll be on our way then.” The dark haired squire nodded to his companions and took a deep breath before he made his way to the door. “Hey!” Old man Whithers cackled before they stepped out into the cold. “If I’m dead before you get back. Brew them as tea.” Marrick snorted a moment. The old man was a grim old fart. He didn’t like the idea of such a feisty old man kicking the bucket before he’d had the opportunity to pick his brain a little. Once outside, Marrick untied Kiter and stepped into the stirrups. With a grunt of exertion he lifted himself into the saddle and sighed. “Old cranky Petcher.” His comment was quiet, and filled with regret. After a moment of silent contemplation he shook his head. “Roight, loike the old man said, we have some moiles ahead of us. The Hot Springs are closer to Syliras and we are loikely teh come back after sunset.” The Kelvic offered Katelyn a stirrup and a hand up. “we’ll need teh get yeh a harse Kat. After that we’ll shake off some snow.”

[Nivel]

Tall Folk with hair the colour of flame emerged from the icy cold outdoors letting a bit of the chill in with her. The red haired girl went on to explain her sudden intrusion, it was something about helping her Patron. So it would seem another Squire had come to the wrinkled herbalist's aid, Nivel certainly wouldn't mind the company. Although when the other squire caught a glimpse of Nivel the large gems the taller creatures called eyes grew larger. The tall folk gawked at the pycon so much that Nivel was certain the glass orbs would fall right out of the girls head. "It's like they've never seen someone ride a Corgi before" Nivel thought. The girl had gotten suddenly shy and it was probably due to the cranky old fuddy grinding rocks in his mouth. "See she knows I'm a pycon!" Nivel blurted back to the old prune before turning back to the girl with the flaming hair "Oh! and this is a corgi, her Name is Patcha, she's like a horse but very very tiny" Nivel said this softly so as not to scare the eyes out of the poor girl, while maintaining her usual joyful energy and playful hand gesturing. The Herbalist looked like he was about to blow a gasket when yet another Knock came to the wooden door. The old man wasn’t one to keep his emotions bottled up and let his distaste for let another guest be know. The Pycon knew who was at the door before she could even turn to look because Patcha let out a happy bark. Patcha was very shy for a dog and the only person that could bring this kind of reaction from her was the Raven haired Squire Marrick. Nivel wasn’t sure how Marrick did it but Patcha seemed to have an odd kinship with him. Based on the way Marrick addressed the herbalist he knew the crabby old man too, the Tall folk must just have a natural ability to relate to people. Nivel was about to answer her friend’s question and give him a proper greeting but it seemed the old Herbalist had other ideas. He went on a rant about his house not being a grand hall or something, Nivel wasn’t really listening. The young pycon hadn’t meet too many people she didn’t like but this man may have been her first. like a feral cat, Nivel stiffened her tails to show her distaste at that mans behaviour. Since Marrick knew the Herbalist, he also knew how to deal with him. The charismatic squire offered food to the Herbalist which seemed to help quell the his sour mood enough for Marrick to explain what he needed from him. Like the red haired squire, Marrick needed herbs for his patron, it seemed like there was an epidemic going on amongst the Order in the Outpost. While the old man paused to think, Marrick introduced Nivel to the red haired squire. Her name was Katelyn, It was a name Nivel had never heard of but she liked it. “Pleasure to meet you Katelyn” Nivel said with a respectful bow of the head. “I haven’t been getting into to much trouble lately, Just lots of training mostly” The pycon shrugged her clay shoulders “have you gone on any adventures yet Katelyn?” Nivel’s tails loosened up for a moment from talking to the other two squires before tensing back up as soon as the old man spoke. The Herbalist explained the situation to the other two and told them to accompany Nivel. Marrick was clever enough to get a field guide since getting information from the old prune was like pulling precious gems from a Yukman. Nivel was happy to ride Patcha out of the old shack and into the blistering cold. The harsh weather just seemed more welcoming than the icy old man. “I don’t like him…” Nivel said bluntly as they exited the building. Since she was still on her mount her and Patcha waited for the others to get ready. She petted her mount and made sure she was properly covered up before heading out toward the Hot springs.

[Katelyn Marks]

She was taken aback when the door opened again and a man backed inside, barring the entrance once across the threshold against the cold wind outside. His familiar head of black hair was peppered with snow, and her breath caught in her throat when Marrick turned around with that ever-present lopsided smile. She'd been avoiding him a little since she'd joined the Order. Up until moving to the Garrison she hadn't seen him since her brother's wake, and now that he was such a familiar sight--sometimes she saw him several times a day in passing--Katelyn wasn't sure how she was supposed to act.

Several emotions had been confusing her as of late, and she brooded over them in private. It didn't help that their Patrons were actually twins. She still still didn't know what to think of that. Perhaps the Gods were teasing her. His eyes found hers and they held for just a moment. She couldn't place his expression--surprise perhaps--but the small dog barked when it saw him and his face turned to beam at the little animal before she could muster the breath to speak a word.

It seemed he knew the Pycon and its little dog Patcha. At least this one seemed more pleasant than Archailist. Her first impression of the squirrel was less than stellar. She was relieved to see that not all of them were brash and entitled.

Marrick seemed to have come prepared today, ready to negotiate and wiggle his was charismatically into the old man's good standings. She couldn't help but smile slightly as she watched him present his offering. Even going so far as to raiding the herbalist's own cabinets like he owned the place. Kat didn't doubt that if it were anyone but Marrick, they wouldn't get away with such a thing. He was too likable, his smile too infectious, and when that grin was turned back on her it was impossible not to smile right back.

The dark haired squire took a moment to introduce Katelyn to the little Pycon, and the words that tumbled from his lips so casually caught her attention like a hound on a scent. She stared a little clay creature with renewed interest, eyes round and curious.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Nivel," she managed, prompted by the Pycon's strangely deep-throated greeting.

It wasn't all that different from Arch's voice. They didn't match their little bodies. She managed to pull her gaze away so she could listen to Marrick and the old herbalist. It was rude to stare she knew, and surely Pycons got plenty of that already. It seemed Kat would have time to investigate the little Mage-Squire more later. She was happy to go along with the two to fetch herbs, but a little apprehensive as well. She'd only been out in the forest a few times since her brother's body was found, and the trees were more foreboding than welcoming nowadays.

Still, she followed her companions out the door with a last glance back to the old man. He squinted at her and frowned, and his last bark at them before they left had her shaking her head when the door closed behind them. She smiled at Marrick and Nivel's complaints, and paused a moment before grasping the dark haired squire's offered hand, grunting as she hoisted herself up behind the set of his saddle on the massive mare Kiter's rump.

She couldn't help but admire how adorable Nivel looked riding atop her little saddle dog way down below, then wondered if they would keep up with the horse's long strides. The little Pycon and her tiny trusty steed seemed to handle their own though as the small party set off back toward the Garrison through the cold streets. She tucked her face behind Marrick's shoulder as the wind attacked with a cold bite, yet still found herself smiling as they wound their back to the Menagerie.

Katelyn realized just how much she'd missed her friend, and relief of his company was soothing.

"I have to warn you," she spoke again finally as they passed through the courtyard toward the stables. "Keep a good few yards away when I get the big guy out. He's not too keen on strangers. Or anyone really, for that matter."

When they arrived she wasted no time sliding off of Kiter's rump down to the icy cobbles below. She quickly found her horses, one that Marrick was familiar with one--well she wasn't sure if her friend had met Garrison yet. She'd named him after the Order's headquarters here at the Outpost. Rather uncreative, but she wasn't necessarily known for being such. Sebastian and her tall Tiaden both nickered and came to their gates when they saw her approaching.

She murmured soft greetings to both of them as she plucked Garrison's lead rope from his stall door and slid the heavy wooden gate open. He towered above her as she hooked the lead to the ring on his halter under his chin and lead him from the stall. Massive hooves clopped on the aisle and he snorted at the sight of Marrick and Nivel waiting. A back hoof stomped threateningly at them as she tied him in place and went to fetch her tack from the nearby storeroom.

She returned with all the bells and whistles and quickly strapped everything to her "patient" gelding. He wasn't built exactly like a lot of other Tiaden's were. Their height was impressive, but he was built lighter. Long legs, lean lines, made for speed and agility.

He was tacked and ready to go Katelyn stepped into her new saddle's stirrup and swung up into the seat. Garrison stomped his big hooves loudly on the stones beneath him and tossed his head, already sweating with excitement. Katelyn smiled at Marrick and Nivil, holding him back with a tight rein.

"This is Garrison. I can't see he's pleased to meet you both. He's a big bastard," she joked with some renewed energy. "Shall we?"

[Marrick Corvis]

As they rode the cold cobble stones to the Garrison the silence marked by their mounts heavy breathing was filled momentarily by Nivel’s quick judgments. Marrick understood why the little Pycon didn’t like Old Man Withers. He wasn’t the most pleasant of folk. Yet something strange about the man made Marrick curious about him. Why would someone who’d devoted his life to helping others be so bitter toward life, and people. Rumors had stirred just below the surface about a wife that had skipped town and gone home to Syliras, or that he had poisoned her and gotten rid of the body. The Kelvic was more inclined to believe the former as the old fellow was not under investigation. “Loife is short wee Nivel, Oi understand he’s a bit of an old tart but don’ be so quick teh judge. People are complicated. Especially old prunes loike him.” Marrick chuckled softly behind a broad smile until his teeth felt cold and he smacked his lips to wet them. “Blast this cold.” He said, as a curse against the icy wind that picked up. As if in retreat from the nip of the wind, Katelyn nuzzled her face into the warm folds of his scarf and cloak that hung off the Kelvic’s shoulder. He could barely feel it through his armor, but the pressure was there, and he confirmed it with a look over his pauldron. A stab of guilt struck through his heart as memories of Oriah ran through his head. He missed her badly, and he was beginning to wonder how she was doing in the wilds. The guilt that rode him like a horse was that Katelyn was not Oriah. However, he wasn’t about to deny the farmgirl whatever measure of warmth she could find in the folds of his cloak. As they arrived hearty but cold at the Managerie Katelyn introduced her horse. He was an odd shape for a Tiaden. A bit of a runt, compared to most of the war horses he’d seen. On the other hand, the way the horses body was built made him look fast. Kat had warned them that he was ill mannered, but she seemed to respect that fact. The horse responded in kind. “He’s seems insecure. He must’ve had it hard as a foal. Bein a moight different from the other Tiadens.” The Kelvic stroked Kiters mane in a soothingly slow manner that both made him feel better, and elicited a soft nicker from his Horse as well. “What do yeh think Koiter?” The great Tiaden craned her neck around and snorted at him as if his question needed no response. Marrick smiled, and nodded in feigned understanding. “He’s a foine mount Kat. Spiritted. Oi’d think Sebastian was loike that before he shrank inta the horse raisin he is now.” At Katelyn’s question of ‘shall we?’ the Kelvic turned Kiter hard toward the gates and gave her a gentle tap along with a command. “Let’s go Koiter!” He shouted it loudly and Kiter responded by breaking into a trot. He broke through the gates of the Garrison and rode Kiter down the street, her hooves a loud clatter announcing their presence to passersby. It was cold today, so it was no surprise that the streets were nearly empty. People might have stepped outside to smoke a pipe, or cleave wood, but most were likely huddled by their fires, or sharing a warm bed. It was no wonder so many children were born in the fall and with this cold, the Kelvic predicted a bumper crop of brand new bouncing babies come next fall. He looked over his shoulder to check that the pair followed him and he slowed his Tiaden to a canter with soft and low “Whoa, Slow up lass.” The massive horse fought him for a moment before consenting and the trio crossed the threshold of the main gates and out into the whaling wind, and blown snow. The Kelvic lifted his scarf up around the lower part of his face neck and ears, and dug out his Salet helm to cover his head. It was cold, and anything to part the sensation of that was almost a necessity. “Oi said it once a’for.” The Kelvics voice cut through the crisp air, though it was muffled. “Blast this cold!” About a quarter mile from the gate, Marrick reined in Kiter and looked to the north away from the main road. “The Avitar will be frozen over in this shyke. We could probably cross, and cut our roide teh the springs in half. If we take the main road, we’ll be hard pressed teh make it back before dark.” The Kelvic huffed misty air through his scarf, and he could see the moisture gathering on his long lashes, soon to be ice if he didn’t blink. “Thoughts? Do yeh want the stick teh the main road, or make a cut across the fields n’cross the Avitar?”

[Nivel]

fter Nivels judgements of The old fart, Marrick made a retort from above that made her question the noise she had let out into the world. She didn’t want be a pycon that gave into negativity and judged people for their differences, she loved differences. Maybe this man was just like the spicy clay she had in Lhavit that she didn’t like at first due to it’s fiery bite but after a while she grew to love the burn. “yoire rioght maybe I jus haven got’n used t’ is fire yet” Nivel started to mimic her bearded companion’s manner of speaking almost without realizing it. She just found the manner in which he spoke intriguing. Even though she didn’t know the way to the hotsprings, the Mage squire was ready to charge head on into her mission. It was a touch frustrating to find out that her companions required extra time but their company made the inconvenience worth it. Her hulking beast of a mother always said “It may seem easier to go solo but its always better in the long run if you have back up.” Although the pycons curiosity override any negativity, since she wanted to see if the squires of the outpost rode giant birds like she had heard about in passing. The wind picked up and chilled Nivel’s tiny clay form, making her feel brittle and stiff. She didn’t shake like the others but could feel the subtle quiver from her bundled up mount underneath. The pycon watched Katelyn find warmth in the folds of Marricks scarf as she shared a ride on Kiter and the pycon wished she could get up there. It seemed pretty warm, but she knew there wouldn’t be room for her furry friend too so she just stared up longingly. She was thankful that Marricks large mount stayed at a steady trot since It was already next to impossible to keep up with them no matter how fast Patcha moved her little legs. They finally made there way to the stables and Katelyn promptly warned the small group to stay back as she retrieved her mount. Nivel stood back awaiting a giant snarling avian beast to emerge from the stables with the red haired tall folk nestled on its feathery back. What came was a defiant coal black horse who shook the ground with the stomps of his massive hooves. Nivel could feel a wince of fear from Patcha and the corgi backed away in caution. The pycon gave the kelvic some reassuring strokes to the head that seemed to calm her down. “Well’m still happy t’see em” Nivel waved “…eev’n if e’is bastard” Nivel giggled assuming that bastard was something equivalent to having bad Gas based on Katelyn’s tone. Now that the other two squires were ready they were able to head out without a hitch, At least there wasn’t a hitch until Marrick called out about what route to take. Based on Marricks proposal the route was obvious “Cut across the fields! Cut across the fields!” Nivel chanted as she waved her ears up and down. “Although could one of you hold me and the other hold Patcha?” Nivel was realizing how tired Patcha was from having traveled so long and then having to keep up with two behemoth sized Mounts. “Patcha is an excellent mount but she’s already tired and can’t keep up with your mounts long strides.”

[Katelyn Marks]

Katelyn laughed at Marrick's remark toward Sebastian, but silently agreed with his assessments. Sebastian used to be a little spitfire at times, like most ponies. She couldn't be sure what caused Garrison's attitude though. Kate had a lot of theories, but she wasn't sure she'd ever figure it out. For now she'd just attest it to being an all-around ornery boy.

When they rode onward, Garrison was eager to keep pace with Kiter, and for a ways Kate let him until she looked back and saw the Pycon's little dog struggling along through the snow drifts. Instinctively she drew in rein and forced her stallion to slow his chase after the giant mare. He fought her hard, sliding to a stop and giving a half-hearted rear. She was glad for the poor footing, else he'd probably try something silly. When his front hooves landed and scattered snow, she held him in place until the little dog started to catch up.

When Katelyn felt it okay, she gave Garrison some slack and allowed him to surge into an energetic trot. He tried every step of the way to break into a fast lope to catch up to Marrick as the squire wound his way ahead, but she wrestled him into submission with straining biceps and a firm grip with her knees.

Once everyone was all caught up and together again, Katelyn mulled over Marrick's plan. The thought of crossing the ice wasn't appealing to her with their massive horses, but the other who seemed eager about the route. She frowned and followed the road out of the gates with her eyes, and mentally ran down their path in her head, but finally nodded.

"We can give the fields a go, but if the ice seems unstable, I'd feel safest taking the road, even if it adds bells. I'd rather not die of frostbite," she said before Nivel chimed in about the size issues at hand.

She smiled at the little Pycon and dismounted, holding Garrison steady, and stooped to offer a hand up.

"You can ride with me. I'd love to chat."

The clay creature was heavier than she expected, but Katelyn lifted her--she assumed it was a her--up onto the pommel of her saddle in front of the seat. For Marrick, she carefully lifted Patcha--after letting the little dog sniff her hand and deem her alright--and handed the tiny mount up to her dark-haired friend. Finally she remounted, paying attention to where the little Pycon found a comfortable spot to sit, and allowed Marrick to lead the way down to the gates and out onto the open road surrounded by snow covered fields.

Everywhere was an endless, barren white dotted by trees heavy with powder. To the north the Bronze Woods rose in a formidable wall, and even further behind it the mountains towered high into the cold roof of the sky--pale and silent in the uncharacteristically frigid winter.

OOCI took a few liberties here to speed things along since I've taken so long to reply, which I apologize for! Hope this is alright.

[Marrick Corvis]

Little Nivel elicited a smile from the Kelvic with her imitation of his speech, and it occurred to the Kelvic that he might try imitating the local tongue himself. If only to better fit in. The cruel cold was beginning to gather little crystals of ice on Marrick’s eyebrows when Katelyn gave her own take on the situation regarding the river crossing. “Aye, wisdom echoes loudest in a gale, as m’dear Gypsy used teh tell me.” When the pair if them fixed him with odd looks he took Patcha into his waiting arms. “Basically,” the Kelvic said as he drew his cloak in around the dog so that only the little Corgi’s head was poking through the neck. “Wisdom, is loudest when yer in trouble.” Marrick chuckled great gusts of mist into the air before he began to baby talk poor Nivels Mount. “Who’s the smartest wee Kelvic in the world eh? Oi’ have a bit a Jerked beef in m’saddle bags. Would y’loike that?” Marrick’s offering was followed with an affirmative bark which he took to be a yes. With a twinkle in his eye he fished out a bit of dried beef for the Kelvic to gnaw on while she rode in his lap. “Mmm.” He said as he watched the little dog chew. “We’re goin t’have t’lash yeh down Patch so yah don’t fall.” As Marrick searched for a length of leather strap to lash down the Corgi he smiled in spite of himself. A fresh new nickname for Nivels mount coalescing in his mind like morning Syna’s light through a window. “Aye, Patches.” The dark haired squire paused as he looked down at his fellow Kelvic. “That suits yeh!” he said as he produced a long leather thong from his saddle bags. Patcha laid her ears down and gave him a little growl that was more endearing that a warning. “Oh come, on yeh wee pup.” With a long heave Marrick let it go for the time being, though he planned to spend the trip convincing the little Kelvic that her new nickname fit better than a tailored gloves. With a quick loop through a couple of the straps on Kiter’s saddle Marrick lashed Patcha to it, and tied the release knot near her head. “Sylir forbid Oi fall off or Oi’m knocked off, yeh can grab this n’ tug real hard t’release the knot.” Marrick gave the little Kelvic in his lap a gentle pat and drew up Kiter’s reigns in readiness. The trio of riders were ready to cover some ground. Marrick nodded to Katelyn and smiled. “Yeh have a saddle t’day. No excuses if yeh fall off this toime.” Marricks devilish grin blossomed on his face as he teased the Red haired Squire. With a purposeful drag through his fingers he gathered up his horses reigns and gave her sides a tap followed with a verbal command that rode on the icy wind. “Lets go Koiter! Hup hup!” He shouted. His impetuous laughter could be heard on the cold wind as the massive Tiaden reared up with a spirit in her whiney. As all four of the Tiaden’s hooves met with the cold frosty soil she bolted forward like the rushing curl of a wave while it crashed against the sandy shore of the Suvan. The icy wind whipped at the exposed parts of his face as he let Kiter loose upon the barren fields of frosty dirt. A little song hummed in his heart as he rode, keeping him warm. It didn’t hurt that he had a little ball of fur tucked between his knees either. The Squire kept a loose and gentle hand on Patcha’s back as they rode on to make sure she did not fall. A comfort as much for him as for her. The Squire even looked down at her occasionally to find the Kelvic with her tongue lolled out and her nose in the wind. We can’t fight our nature can we little sister. Marrick thought to himself with a measure of solidarity and sorrow. The fields looked like cold death. Nothing grew, and there was no winter wheat tilled for the fields yet. The Cobalt’s rose over the western and northwestern horizon like ancient paled Nuit. Their peaks obscured by the gray clouds almost as if the giant rise of their stones was stretching with all their might heavenward. For several leagues they followed the dirt cart trails that the farmers took in their day to day work when they tended the fields. The occasional Cob and Stone structure rose abandoned, its windows dark, and its thatch falling inward. They crossed the threshold of several stone cairns, and eventually found their way into the northern Orchards Kiter’s breathing became labored and she had slowed to a canter. The stillness that filled the orchard, left Marrick with an eerie sensation in his hackles. Like the trees were naked observers who bore witness to their crossing. “Oy, up. Whoa lass.” Marrick said as he gave Kiter’s reigns a gentle tug to let her know he wanted to slow down. The massive mare obliged him, and Marrick waited for Katelyn and Nivel to catch up on Garrison. As they rode up he nodded toward the gnarled apple and pear trees. “A bit creepy in here this toime of year. Wait till yeh see em next summer.” Marrick smiled and breathed excitedly. “Wish’d Oi fer a bit’a that heat roight now.” The Dark haired squire laughed for a tick or two before he gave Kiter’s sides a gentle nudge. “Back to it lass.” Kiter rode forward in a quick walk, grateful for a break from such a long run. The last stone cairn rose like a little hill of shale. “Naught much further yet. The Avitar should be only a Moile oar two onward.” Marrick dug out a little snack of dried beef for himself and was about to tear off a hunk when he heard the furtive whine of Patcha as she sat quietly in his lap. “Yeh, know Oi’m a sucker fer a good whine.” The Kelvic Squire chuckled for a tick before he tore off a piece and gave it to Patcha. “here yah go… Patches.” Marrick said with a little smirk. The little Corgi didn’t growl at him this time. She only fixed him with a little gaze of slight disapproval before she took the bit of beef from him. “Grows on yah doesn’t it.” Marrick said with a grin and a soothing scratch between Patcha’s ears. Out of contact with the other two riders in their Journey, the dark haired squire had begun to worry about Katelyn and Nivel. “Are yeh two alroight? How are yeh holdin up? Do yeh need a stop or a rest?” Marrick let Kiter keep walking, and waited silently for Katelyn and Nivel to give him a sign.

[Nivel]

After being lifted gently into Katelyn’s lap, The pycon climbed into a pocket on the tall folks winter coat and got herself situated. Nivel poked her head out in order to have a conversation but kept most of her thin clay body concealed in the warmth the snug pocket provided. “So you’re new t’the order eh?” Nivel spoke up after Katelyn had managed to get her unruly horse to start riding. “Any interest in the magic er’ are ye’ just a regular squire?” Nivel assumed she was just the typical squire, not many wished to pursue the dangerous art and Nivel didn’t have a hard time understanding why. Learning Magic was already a long and painful process and to add that on top of the already rigours training of of a squire made it a rare burden few were willing to bare. Although misery loves company and Nivel would love to foster interest in the craft if she could, since training alone wasn’t nearly as fun. “do ya’ like sewing?” Nivel had only just started learning the craft and if this girl wasn’t into magic maybe they had other things in common. As Nivel was carried along in Katelyn’s warm pocket she looked at all the scenery around her, it was winter so only the skeletons of the trees were out but there was still a beauty in that. It didn’t have the lush vibrant greens of summer, or the variety colours in the blooming flowers or fading leaves of spring and fall but the lovely contrast of crisp white snow and dark brown tree husks was pleasing to the pycon. The curious pycon couldn’t help wonder if during winter the trees roots grew leaves and flowers while the other half was asleep. Small traces of buildings and roads that had long since faded from use could be seen poking out of the snow every so often. She wondered if they were old enough to be from the Valterrian or if the traces of rubble were more recent failures at civilization. It was unlikely that Nivel would be able to find out unless she could examine the auras of the stones and that just seemed like the pointless use of magic that Grey always advised her against. As they continued down the trail to the springs, Nivel could sense unknown auras approaching. They weren’t very strong so she didn’t know how far away they were and at this stage she couldn’t tell what they were. She would need to focus her nexus on figuring out if these Auras belonged to friend or foe. “I think we have company..”The pycon whispered hesitantly She went inside her nexus and focused on what she was feeling, There was a small group so she narrowed in on one of them. It didn’t take much exploration before the aura she was examining told her exactly what it was. “Wolves..there's a few of them” Nivel’s voice trembled a bit but she quickly regained her courage. She'd faced wolves before but she didn't understand the stakes back then. Nivel had learned of death and pain since then so it was a much different situation.