[Kabrin Road] The Long Road (Private)

[Malia]

Malia listened as the other women talked to Jaeden. They seemed quite familiar with one another, almost on a level that ran deeper than mere friendship. Still, however, she couldn’t be sure. Pulsers behaved in odd ways and everyone was a little different. For all she knew, it could just be their humor as well. While the others left to do what he had told them, Malia unpacked the tents and started unfolding them. With so much fabric for so many people, orientation proved to be a little challenge. However, she soon found out how it had been folded by unfolding parts, circling the entire thing and looking at the edges and intervals. As soon as she knew what was where, she unfolded the entire tent and started digging little holes and putting twigs in them. They would stabilize the tent. Of course, the structure wasn’t too solid anyway, but as long as they avoided danger and strong wind, they should be safe inside.

While she was working, she kept an eye on Stitch and Jaeden. Firstly, they were the only pulsers still in close proximity, and second, they were the two pulsers she was most interested in. The three others, partly women, partly animals, appeared to be loyal to Jaeden first and foremost. On a scientific basis, Malia was interested in the Kelvics, but apart from that, she would keep communication at a minimum. More importantly, she noticed that Stitch’s behavior had turned to slightly awkward and nervous. It was obvious that he wasn’t used to the wilds. Nevertheless, Malia watched and took in the information. He had never been outside his city, had never built a fire-pit or ridden a horse before. Only when the comfortable environment was gone, his lack of experience became obvious. Malia observed with interest.

At the same time, however, she appreciated the fairness of the situation. Some time ago, she had demanded a favor of him, had asked for employment in his house. Now, their roles had changed: Malia was the one with more power while Stitch needed someone to show him the ropes of survival. “I agree with him. You must train your body and your mind to become stronger physically and mentally.” She threw a glance at Stitch and abruptly stopped. Perhaps she had wanted to add something, but with her exotic speech pattern, one couldn’t be sure.

When Jaeden spoke of danger, she nodded along. Hiding from pulsers and their sharp and pointy objects had taught her several lessons. Lesson one: Never hide where they expect you to hide. Lesson two: If your choice surprises yourself, it will also surprise your enemies. If she had been alone, Malia would have camped in close proximity to the dangerous place. She’d know when danger approached and get away as quickly as possible.

Then the guide started exercising with his axe. Malia watched for a while, but then turned back to work. He seemed used to handling his weapon, and his muscles were prominent. That was enough to convince Malia that he’d be a good bodyguard. Stitch ... She wasn’t sure how he’d react out in the wilderness. She wasn’t sure. For some reason, that annoyed her a bit, so she avoided the sight of the two men for a while.

Because of that, she didn’t immediately realize that she had been asked a question. When working, her thoughts often wandered far away. She needed practice, needed it badly. Where had she been ...? Blinking, Malia tried to concentrate on the answer. “Here and there”, she said as she walked around the skeleton of the tent and examined it. Was everything as solid as it should be? If that was the case, she would start pulling the fabric up and over the twigs. Her body language was minimal, even when she had her hands free, and her voice monotone enough to become a mere background noise. “I’ve mostly roamed the Syliran and Talderan countryside, stayed around villages. When encountering danger, I always fled. It was safer, back then.” Once again, she stopped. Privacy was important to her, and for a good reason.

The idea of changing the topic relieved her a bit. “I will do the night watch”, she added matter-of-factly. Of course, someone who never slept would be the best choice, right? The Kelvics, half-animals, surely were blessed with instinct and improved senses, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t need sleep. More importantly, the night bells would give her some time to practice and think about the future.

She had lost something. Now she was searching, although she wasn’t sure for what. First she needed to find it in thought and then she had to look for it in the material world.

[Ataraxia]

Night had come. Thick and Thin had been correct in their assumption... it appeared the travelers had decided to stay in the proximity of the shelter along the road. Thick and Thin traveled side by side, pushing their way through the thick growth around them with little care for the noise they made. In fact, they didn't seem to care at all. They shouted at each other excitedly, pushing forward and screaming a change in direction without a care at all for an element of stealth. The travelers would eventually begin to hear traces of their bullrush towards the encampment. The first major sign would be Thick screaming a curse as he tripped over a small animal snare, momentarily entangled in the device. The sound of him ripping the contraption away and tossing it against a tree was like thunder in the silent night. Aella's trap hadn't brought in a meal... but it had served as an alarm. No doubt Jaeden's Kelvic companions would have been quick to wake everyone, save Malia whom had been on guard duty. She too would have known of their advance; even a child could have detected it. But for as much warning as there was, the travelers would not truly have much time to prepare. Their lack of stealth was odd, but from that they gained speed. They would be upon the encampment quickly, giving the most likely groggy and anxious group only a chime at the most to get ready and position themselves for a possible attack. Malia was the first they saw as they came into the light of the campfire. Thin held a thick and heavy knife in one hand, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he fought to catch his breath. Thick near collided with him as he skidded to a stop, brandishing a woodsman's axe. "Where are they!?" screamed Thin, focusing on Malia's form for a moment before rapidly scanning the area for another. "That's not her. Where is the woman!?" They were searching for a man and a woman, that much was obvious. Of everyone in the camp, Stitch would know these men. He had met them once before, not too long ago. Yet, as his auristic eyes peered upon them he would only recognize the core of what their aura contained. Something else swirled within them, something powerful and dark. It was almost as if the aura was waging war upon itself. One thing remained consistant however, and it was the one thing that would solidify these men's identities to Stitch. A blazing red tendril snaked and dispersed within one of the aura's, a sight Stitch would no doubt remember. It was Banda, the highwayman whom had been marked by Krysus herself. Stitch would have to believe the obvious; they were looking for him. The woman they seemed to speak of was nor present, that much was obvious. What was increasingly more obvious was that despite, no one in the camp was safe. Thin, or Banda as Stitch would know him, charged towards Malia. His intention was clear as he prepared for a dramatic arcing swing with his knife. He would eviscerate this woman, and continue his search. Thick on the other hand had shot off to the side, moving towards a tent. His charge was wild and fast, and any within or around it would find themselves facing the brute. Thick and Thin were outnumbered and in a poor position tactically. Yet, their reckless charge would have to be considered by those who knew anything about the Wildlands as an oddity. If these travelers knew what was best for them, they would take their complete lack of subtlety as a sign that something was horribly wrong with this situation.

[Stitch]

Stitch was sitting some distance away from the cabin at first, silently meditating in his own special way. With the recent events that had occured in Syliras, he found it hard to sleep. Things haunted him in the darkness that came just before slumber, and actual sleep contained nightmares beyond imagining. Wild nightmares that involved fire and blood, with armed men storming about, slicing his former children in half. In the middle of it was a strange woman he could not remember, a beautful Konti with golden strings dancing the soldiers about. The other woman behind her had her own set of strings, connected to the Konti. Stitch knew that second woman well. Drainira. Meditation helped him focus on things other than the events of late. He could be found a few yards away from the cabin, somewhere to the side, within the thick forest. He was shirtless, having taken Jaeden's advice a step further, letting his bare skin get used to what he considered to be nipping cold. It was easier to handle it when he attempted to focus within himself. Stop. Zoom. Focus. There are neural pathways that exist within the body, pathways that carry currents of Djed to where they need to go. With this Djed, the brain sends signals to the rest of the body, and with these signals, the body moves. With this Djed, an equal amount of power is allowed to the human muscles, giving the average body the capacity to do what it was built to do in the first place. Move, work, eat, and so on. There are ways to break these rules. One can simply learn to control the movement of all this energy. One can learn to control and bend the flow of things, and manipulate it to specific areas. Flood more energy to the muscles lining the arm, and a thrown punch will be faster and stronger. When panic overtakes you, simply ease a bit of energy away from the heart, just to soothe the beat down a bit. It is a fine art, with many dangers... but there are subtle uses that don't have as much danger as some of the more direct uses. Forcing energy to muscles and limbs to increase power and speed? That is over-riding the natural limits in the body. Slowing a heartbeat, digesting food a little faster, attempting to calm all aspects of the body down? It isn't that dangerous at all. Simple and easy manipulations of the Flux were the best way to start out. Conditioning internal organs was rather advanced, but simply slowing or speeding the flow of energy from one organ to another? It was the basics. It was probably time Stitch started following those rules of the art. He had started out by gently trickling a bit of Djed back into his core, pulling it from all areas of his body. The amount of moving energy lowered, slowing signals from the brain to the rest of the body. His limbs would soon go into a peaceful state, and begin to rest his tired muscles. He had dug a lot of dirt today. It helped him ignore the cold too. He deeply focused, turning his Auristic eye inward upon his own body. He stared at his own Flux flow, and watched his streams of energy quite closely, making sure that everything was working as it should be. Even when he was simply slowing down the flow of energy through his body, he kept a close eye on it. He watched as the bright blue veins coursing through his body slowed their frantic pace, the entirity of his Aura soothing along with them. The cold (if you could even call it that, in Syliras) soon became a distant bother, and instead, he was totally focused within his own body. He turned his Auristic eye to his arm, the right one, the one he had been ready to kill the boy with. The boy that he had thought was going to burn down his Home. He had overdone his Flux flow that day, flooding energy to his arm in a desperate attempt to put the boy out of commission. Ever since then, it had ached, just a dull and slight pain. Now, he searched for the source of that pain. He could easily see it, if he just looked. There were little pieces of his Djed pathways that were sparking a light white color, in that arm. He had damaged something there, it seemed. The Djed still flowed normally, but it flowed... painfully. He began to slowly manipulate the energy in that area, using the Flux to gently ease the energy past those damaged points. He was just trying to give the arm a break, really. It was also a good way to practice meditation, Flux, and Auristics. His focus is what made him react a little late. The attackers had nearly completed their charge before he snapped to attention, his blind eyes whipping to the side. Something was familiar about the two Auras that were soon to be upon them. Something familiar, but something horribly wrong. Stitch was up from his position in a heartbeat, the Flux flooding back to normal levels. He took off, sprinting the few short yards to the clearing they had made camp in. Malia was back there. Malia. _________________________________________________________ Stitch appeared to the scene just as Thin started his attack. Stitch had changed in the half month that it had been since he had last seen the two bandits, but then again, so had they. Stitch seemed a little bit taller, a little more worn, his once young and innocent face rather dark and serious. His shirtless body was lightly stained with sweat, the defined muscles flexing lightly from his sudden sprint. An obvious scar was on his left forearm, as if he had been slashed with a sword. His back held the most horrible scars, though. Four perfect cuts had once been placed there, with the precision of a surgeon. Deep cuts that had likely ribboned the blind man. Banda would know them well. Stitch did know the men well. He had fought them tooth and nail before, and had nearly lost his life to them. They had also nearly lost theirs to Pain, but Stitch had managed to stop her before she had done anything she would have regretted. He had shown mercy on that day, and even satisfied the cravings that Banda owed to Krysus. And now, if he had heard right... Had he heard right? The way they had sounded when he had been sprinting toward the small clearing... They were looking for him... And a woman? They were looking for him and Pain. They looked so different. Their Auras were horrifying, trying to keep control wrestled away from something oily and dark, thick and disguisting. It pried at every ounce of their being, threatening to consume and take them over. What was this? Stitch was confused, but for once, that didn't stop him. Malia. Stitch exploded forward, racing toward the two. He shouted out as he approached, his voice booming out across the expanse. He didn't know where the others were. Probably up and awake. He didn't have time to check. He simply shouted. "Banda! Aziz! Here! The lady is long gone, but here! Here this one is!" He was simply drawing their attention. If he was fast enough, he would attempt to get between Malia and the knife. There would be a deflection involved, knocking the telegraphed blow to the side... or perhaps just a catch, and a twist, to hopefully disarm the man. Or maybe he would just have to take it. He just needed to protect the only thing he had left.

[Jaeden Kincade]

Tasha sat perched along the top of Jaeden’s tent, content to share in the first watch with Malia for a short time. Her head turned and eyes began to focus at the first sign of Thick and Thin’s approach. It was only a short moment before the black hawk’s cries filled the air and her wings spread, flapping a couple of times. There was a rustling from Jaeden’s tent immediately after, a series of curses echoing from within the tent. It wasn’t long before Jaeden came out, his pants and boots the only thing slipped on, and his longsword in hand. He had an irritated look on his face as he began looking around. “Are you petching kidding me?” Jaeden grumbled, a fogged breath escaping his lips. “I just get Aella in the mood for a late night roll and now idiots come barging in for conflict!?”

Tasha soon flew past Jaeden, nicking his ear with the tip of her wing as she did before her flight took her strait upward, out of reach of the conflict. “Whoa. Look at you.” Jaeden said, as his gaze moved over Thick during his approach as he raised his sword. “Aella, come out here and take a look at this guy! He‘s a big one. Look down at his cod piece. I don‘t want to feel threatened by this guy, and then, you know, threatened.”

Jaeden then moved forward, swinging his sword at Thick’s leg during his approach, ducking and looking to step forward past him during his swing. He looked first to cut deeply into Thick’s leg to slow his movement around. His next attack would come at one of Thick’s arms next. Red would come out next, her teeth being flashed at Thick as a growl echoed out towards Thick. She began moving around, looking to get behind him, and take opportunity to attack from behind if Jaeden kept him distracted. “Bring your sword Aella, you could use the practice.” Jaeden said then. “See, I told you this would be a fun trip.”

[Malia]

Malia was sitting near the fireplace, her back straight and her hands playing with something that looked like a headband or piece of clothing to tie one’s hair together with. She ran it through her hands again and again, trying to figure out how to approach the task at hand. Her backpack was lying next to her. It contained all the necessary tools, but she needed time to design a plan and quiet and safety to carry it out. The wilderness obviously was the wrong place. Still she couldn’t help but think about the little project. Having bought the black fabric in Syliras, she had carried it around in her pocket. It reminded her of what she needed to do. It reminded her that every chime was precious; every bit of free time had to be utilized.

She probably tried to be perfect. As a Nuit, the urge to be perfect seemed even stronger. Emotions couldn’t distract her. There was only freezing cold hate that drove her.

When a scream of anger and loud thunder cut through the silence of the forest night, Malia jumped. Quickly putting the fabric away, her precious main ingredient, she rose to her feet and slung the backpack over one shoulder, ready to run away as she had always done. Then she remembered the companions she was traveling with. She knew that Stitch was sitting somewhere a few feet away, meditating in the chill of the night, but momentary hesitation kept her from alarming the guide they had hired. Then it already was too late. Two figures came into sight. Malia squinted, trying to see them in the dark, while at the same time fighting her instinct that said: Run! Flee!

The agitation of the two strangers piqued her interest. Apparently they were searching for someone, a man and a woman. Her first association was Jaeden and one of his companions. He had enough women, after all ...

Movement caused her to focus. One of the strangers was attacking towards her! Countless thoughts flooded her brain, all at once. She felt the Kalivant hanging at her side, hidden under the cloak. She carried it out of habit, not to kill pulsers with it! Then she possessed an arrow, but no bow to shoot it with. Was Stitch alright or were there more than two? A moment later she realized that the attackers were outnumbered. If they were searching for someone in particular, they must have observed the group before. They must have known that the group was too strong for the two of them. Still they attacked, and not in a subtle way at all!

Frozen in place, Malia didn’t know how to react. She simply took a step back, hesitating, and raised the backpack in front of her. She had to protect her precious body, no matter what! Should her body be injured, her ichor would flow and her existence would perish. Everything would have been for nothing!

Next she heard a familiar voice. Spinning around, she saw Stitch sprinting towards her and the attacker. Relief washed over her. Her death would have been senseless, but Stitch’s frame was muscular and riddled with scars. He certainly knew how to defend himself and her too! Only as a second thought she noticed that she’d never seen those scars before. Where did he get them?

Anyway, she further backed away, making room for Stitch to launch a counterattack. At the same time, she examined the surroundings. Something was off about the attack. It made her anticipate an ambush, so she kept eyes and ears open for more signs of danger. If there were more, they certainly would act more subtly.

[Ataraxia]

Thick's body seemed incapable of relenting it's speed as he stormed towards Jaeden, but that did not serve him as well as he may have hoped. The bite of Jaeden's blade running through his flesh was noted only by a brief twitch in his eyes. Still, he stumbled forward despite the experienced swordsman weaving his way into a better position, and lashing out once again. They were all upon him in an instant, Aella's blade and Red's teeth. As the three backed away from Thick, he would fall. Their 'battle' had lasted only an instant, and Thick hadn't fought back at all. He had merely charged blindly towards them, and now lay whimpering on the ground. His arm and leg were badly wounded, courtesy of Jaeden Kincade. Not to mention the vicious slashes on his lower legs and backside that Red had provided, and a well executed thrust through the midsection by Aella. As he lay, he managed only a few words as his eyes rolled upwards and caught a glimpse of Jaeden. "You..." Thin faired a little better, but not much. As he careened toward's Malia, he caught both the sight and sound of Stitch roaring towards him. His eyes fluttered, but his head quickly snapped back towards Malia's body and his attack. Yet his wicked knife did not find flesh, but the tough surface of a survival pack. Momentarily stymied, Thin could do little as Stitch descended upon him. "Do not interfere!" He screamed as a nimble hand twisted the knife from his palm. A slight thud indicated that he had lost the weapon, and in that instant he was under Stitch's control. He would feel so little resistance in Thin's body that it might alarm him; did a pair of berserker bandits who struck so boldly truly go down this easily? Even more unnerving was the simple fact that he hadn't responded to Stitch's call whatsoever. In fact, he had acted as though they were strangers. Could Thin, who in all actuality was a bandit name Banda have forgotten him so quickly? The two bandits lay, completely subdued. The adventurers would have to take stock of the situation, assessing the condition of their opponents while shaking off the adrenaline that surged for a battle that had never come to be. Upon further inspection, both seemed to be in horrible physical condition. Thick, otherwise known as Aziz was in obvious pain. The wound on his leg had sliced upon his thin pants, revealing what looked like a crude splint over an apparently broken leg. How could this man have even walked through the pain? The answer that would have eluded them for all eternity was suddenly made crystal clear in an instant. The explosion of noise that erupted all around them consisted of agonizing screams and wails, but as the startled band of travelers searched for the source the obvious sources were identified; Banda and Aziz. Yet in addition to the chaos, two other forms seemed to have materialized seemingly out of nowhere. Before them were two figures, translucent and faintly glowing a variety of bluish hues. A gaseous white substance seemed to swirl about them, but a few details could be made out. One was male, a hard looking man who seemed to have a gaping wound in his chest. The other was female, a smaller woman who seemed to be clutching her wrist as if her hand was wounded. If they were quick, they would notice that there was a hole bored completely through her ghostly appendage. Banda and Aziz had not been acting on their own. These two spectral beings had been guiding their actions and manipulating their bodies as puppets. They were powerful. Powerful enough to force the men through their misery, and oh, they were in misery. In a frightening display, the two ghosts began to flicker and move about rapidly, shifting all around the campsite but always focusing their gaze on one man. Banda and Aziz may have known Stitch, but these two paid him little attention. Jaeden was their prey. After a few seconds, the ghosts vanished completely. Though the adventurers may not have been aware, force marching their possessed hosts had taken it's toll on them. They would need a bit of time to regain their strength. They were left with nothing more than the screaming agony that emanated from their two attackers. Both were in horrible shape. While Aziz's malady was obvious, Banda's was more mysterious. He suffered no physical wounds, but his agony seemed tenfold of his partner's. Stitch would probably deduce the source of his pain; he carried a constant reminder on his back. Their enemies were not of this world, but the next. To combat them, they would need information. They could perhaps save one, but not both. If they could somehow provide enough medical attention to stabilize Aziz, he may have proved useful. Yet his wounds were severe, and his body was weary with the stress of constant anguish. Banda's illness was magical in origin, and could only be cured with something the group might not be willing to provide. Blood. To save this man's life, they would all have to contribute to his addiction to the pain of others. Yet, if they saved neither they would find themselves fighting against a pair of spectral enemies with little to no information at all. Depending on whether or not Jaeden recognized their forms, they might not be able to deduce anything at all. It was up to them to decide who lives, and who dies.

[Stitch]

Stitch caught the oncoming blade at the wrist, twisted, and easily disarmed the man. The blind man easily noticed the lack of resistance from the bandit, as if he was fighting a puppet who had just had a predetermined series of moves interrupted. It was un-nerving. He remembered fighting the two men before, and from what he had seen back then, they were skilled and cunning. What was it that had caused them to attempt this foolhardy ambush? Was it really the fact that they were looking for revenge, like Stitch had first assumed? Why was it then, that Banda hadn't realized who he was? There should have been some flicker of recognition, but there had been nothing. The blind man still followed through with the fight, even he was confused. He was trained enough to know when he could win, and with the man's body not resisting him at all... winning would be a simple matter. A deft twist of the wrist and the arm followed, Stitch sweeping behind the man. A well placed kick folded the man's knees underneath him, and soon, his body would be on the ground, kneeling sharply, his arm locked and twisted behind his head. A quick glance over let Stitch know that Jaeden and his companions were fine, as well as the fact that they had quickly dealt with their opponent. He caught a good glimpse of the wooden Aura supporting Thick's leg, and suddenly remembered that it was the exact leg he had broken just a few weeks ago. There was no way it could have healed by now, especially if it was only supported by a thin and sloppily-placed piece of wood. How could he have made his way toward their position with such speed? He shouldn't be able to place any weight on that leg! Stitch cast a glance over both of them again. Something was wrong here. The black inky substance in their Auras, trying to take them over... it was weird. Stitch had never encountered such an occurrence happening within an Aura. Well, sometimes certain Gnosis Marks had an effect like that... but they had never been as chaotic and dominating as the black ink. Banda had a Gnosis Mark that could overwhelm him, but Stitch could barely see it through the black murk. No, wait. He had seen something like this before. A few seasons ago, in the Labyrinth, with Rhuryc and Fade... there had been a similar substance that had taken over the young girl, one that had controlled her movements, dominated her body... it had been a... Stitch's head whipped toward Jaeden, a sudden look of concern crossing his child-like features. "Milord! Get back! This one thinks they are possess-" Shrieks and screams erupted around the clearing, and Stitch leapt back, skirting towards Malia, getting himself between her and Banda. His head whipped around as the noises assaulted him from every which direction, confusing him, making him think there were more attackers to be found. His whole body was tensed, his muscles clenched and flexed, his fingers balled tightly into fists. He crouched, the perfect image of a feral fighter. The ghosts appeared, and it did little to ease Stitch's current tension. To his eyes, they were visages of hate and revenge, each of them focused on Jaeden. They focused on him solely, their ghostly attentions intensely directed to him. What was the relation? Stitch had no idea. He remained tense at Malia's side, unsure of what to do. He knew the forest ranger could handle himself, but against spirits of another world? Were they even possible to harm? And if he left Malia's side, would she be able to fend for herself? Would the ghosts attempt to harm her? Suddenly, the ghosts started to flicker about. This was new to Stitch. One moment their Auras were in one location, and the next they had simply appeared in another. It made his head hurt, seeing the two bright angry Auras dancing about, never in one place for long He wanted to do something, to lunge toward one and see if he could grab it... but something inside of him told him it would be useless. How were they supposed to handle this? Stitch had barely even begun to puzzle it out before suddenly, they had vanished. Priskil, this was all happening too fast. "Who are they milord? What do they want?" Stitch's voice was filled with urgency. He needed to know, as it was another piece of the puzzle that they would likely have to solve. "They seemed to know who you were. They were focused on you, and solely you." Something else caught Stitch's magical eye, and he turned, his senses sending off a sudden alarm. Banda. The man was on the ground, and his mark was more clear than ever. It was overcoming him, causing his already-beaten body intense pain. There was only so much time before he was swallowed whole, and Stitch didn't even want to imagine what would happen. The other man was in pain as well, though his wounds were made of out of flesh. Stitch's head turned back and forth between them, until finally, he looked to both Malia and Jaeden, the worry and pain clearly shown on his face. "The thin one suffers from some sort of... Gnosis. He has to inflict pain in order to cure pain of his own. He has a lot built up right now... so we would have to help him inflict quite a bit on ourselves in order to save his life. The other one... he is weary and worn, and his leg is a mess. This one was attacked by them a few weeks ago, but the situation turned out... alright. This one... wants to save them both. But how?" Stitch looked so painfully helpless. It was obvious how little experience he had in these sudden decisions, in these high-stress situations.

[Emblem]

Congratulations! You Get Glorious Experience! Jaeden Skills Leadership- 5 XP Wilderness Survival- 4 XP Weapon: Longsword- 1 XP Lores Guiding the Lost and Blind The Kabrin Road Attack in the Night Malia Skills Wilderness Survival- 4 XP Observation- 3 XP Skill 2 Lores Fearing for Ones Body Dead Among the Living Comments : It's a shame that this thread wasn't finished, but great work nonetheless! PM we with any questions or concerns!