Closed A Single Swing [GST] (Karyk)

[Samuel Longwell]

A Single Swing Date: 91st Summer 517 Location: The Southern Trading Post The morning sun shone down upon the ferry as it reached the shore of the lake. Efficient sailors quickly leapt to the dock and soon the boat was moored in place. The few passengers who had made the trip quickly disembarked and the ferry started to be loaded with goods belonging to a visiting merchant. He seemed glad that the ferry was to take him across, finally getting his wares on their way to the city after a longer stay on the lake-shore than he had expected. He watched on anxiously as the sailors packed his livelihood onto the vessel ready for departure. Among the group of passengers was a man called Karyk, who had business on the lake-shore. The guards by the dock nodded in greeting to the departing passengers, but their watchful eyes rested mostly upon those who intended to enter the city. Once past the tower that overlooked the surrounding area, the trading village came into view. It lacked the bustle that would come with the afternoon sun, as few visitors to the city had arrived yet. But a few people had started to move around to complete their jobs for the day. A small food market nearby was starting up as stands were laden with a range of foodstuffs. The sound of merchants negotiating could be heard as business began to get under way. Several more guards stood nearby, keeping a watchful eye both on the market and the nearby treeline. They looked calm and confident, a reassuring presence to the law abiding citizens of the lake city. A visible manifestation of the safety that could be found in the beautiful, clean city of Ravok. A little further out from the lake a small shack could be found, a few people sitting inside drinking ale. The building looked run down, held together with a variety of wooden boards and rusty nails. A pair of men sat outside, smoking their pipes and speaking in quiet tones. They had the look of men used to the road, with well-worn clothes on their backs and blades at their belt. Further to the south lay forested land. The lands within a day's walk were relatively safe, due to the high presence of guards that patrolled the area close to the lake, but those who strayed too far into the Wildlands of Sylira often never returned. There were rumours of dangerous beasts that roamed the shadows, often told by the lumberjacks whose living depending on journeying out away from the protective influence of civilisation.

[Karyk]

Just before sunrise, warm air filled the apartment. It wafted through, settling just over the bed, flitting into Karyk's nostrils. They twitched and expanded, until the shipwright's eyes opened, a grin on his face. Salted pork and eggs. Rolling over, he noticed one of the usual lumps that laid next to him was missing. Eyes groggily lulling over, he saw Sharay cooking over the hearth and smiled. The young woman, his apprentice, was definitely stepping up to help him raise her and her brothers. "Uncle, ya need to get dressed, ya're 'eadin' to shore today, remember?" Karyk did remember, and nodded, slipping out of bed. Quickly he relieved himself in the chamber pot and dressed in his standard white work shirt, trousers and boots. "Love bug, do ya need me to git anythin' before I go, or come back?" "Nah, jus' focus on gettin' us a place to live. A proper place." Karyk understood that sentiment. This apartment was nice, but was temporary. This was no place to call home. No apartment was. So he was heading to shore, in order to look for a piece of land to buy, and begin building their home. The right way. So Karyk ate quickly, pat Sharay on the head, grabbed his pack and axe bundle and left. It didn't take long to find a ship heading for shore, and Karyk sat upon a crate, going through his pack. One spare set of clothes, a fishing kit, though he didn't bring his pole, some cutlery, his woodworking axes in the rucksack bundle, and his half axe hanging from his waist, his coin purse in his pouch belt. All in all, the basics he always takes with him. The ship finally arrived, and Karyk walked down the gangplank. He wasn't really sure what he needed to look for. How did land ownership work? Did he have to buy from the city? Private sellers? He needed to find a more knowledgeable local. Meandering from the ship, avoiding the well guarded merchant area, he was brought a bit of ease at how safe the area felt, even with the forest right there at the edge. Ravok was nothing but safe it felt. Great for his children. Moving along the lake's edge, Karyk knew he could love living here, especially if he could get a spot on the lakefront, near the trees. He could build himself a dock, a workshop, some private boats of his own. Build up his house as big as he wanted, and build it himself. A smoker would be nice. He'd always wanted to learn how to smoke fish and meat. As he was day dreaming, his eyes fell upon a worn down shack, with two men sitting out front. They looked laid back and relaxed to Karyk, smoking their pipes and chatting. He never particularly cared for pipesmoke, though never had an issue being around it. Just didn't care for smoke in his mouth. He remembered Kesh smoked a pipe, and a pang of guilt struck his gut. He wondered whatever happened to his Jamoura friend. Ever since having arrived in Ravok, Karyk had barely kept contact with any of the others from his caravan. And he knew it was from shame, because of how poorly the trip had gone, because of how many people had died because of him. The best thing for everyone was probably to not have him in their lives. And his eyes didn't miss the windswept hair, worn clothes, dirty skin, it was a look he'd known to well on his caravan. These men had traveled recently, Karyk was sure of it. Taking a chance, since he assumed the shack belonged to them, perhaps they might know how he could buy a piece of land himself. Plodding over, Karyk made sure to stay in their obvious line of sight, so as to not startle anyone. When he got closer, "'owdy there. Ah'm Karyk, Southwind, not tha' ya'd know my name. Ah wanted to ask y'all 'ow ya wen' abou' buyin' yar property 'ere. Lookin' to buy my own, an' not real sure where to start. Woul' y'all min' pointin' me in the righ' direction?" Not too terribly awkward, straight to the point like Karyk liked. He wasn't much about frivolities after all. Hopefully these two men would be helpful.

[Samuel Longwell]

Their conversation halted, the two men turned to the man who had interrupted them. The man on the left seemed put out at Karyk's appearance, his scarred face twisting into a grimace. The other man, with dirty blonde hair and matching moustache, simply smiled and nodded in greeting as the newcomer introduced himself. They listened as Karyk made his request, searching for knowledge on how to purchase land on the shore. The pair chuckled, glancing at each other when he asked how they had acquired their property. “We look like landowners eh Billy?” the scarred man said to his friend. “Never thought I'd hear that.” Then he turned to Karyk. “Get lost, we don't have time for this shyke.” he spat. He fell silent when Billy's hand was placed on his shoulder. “No need for that.” Billy chimed in. “The man was only asking a question after all.” He studied Karyk closely, seeming to measure the shipbuilder up. “I'm Billy, this is Saul.” he said. “We don't own any property here, we're just caravan guards. Currently waiting for the merchants to finish their visit in the city. Pretty much all we know about the area is how to sit around and drink ale. Which we do pretty well I must say. But Mal or Sandra might know.” With these words he shouted into the shack that he wanted another drink, then sat back in his chair as he took another puff on his pipe. A young blonde woman hurried out, with a jug sloshing full of ale. Saul's hand reached for her behind, but was quickly slapped away. She glared at him, picking up the mugs to refill them. As the drinks were poured, Billy repeated Karyk's question to the girl. She looked thoughtfully at him, then jabbed her thumb over her shoulder towards the forest. “Go find a place.” she said shortly, “Then ask the guards and they'll point you in the right direction for the paperwork. Now are you buying a drink or not? Got tobacco too if you're smoking.”

[Karyk]

Karyk relaxed much more at hearing these men talk, even if one was a bit more gruff. They reminded him of his friends back home. These weren't the stuffy city people in Ravok proper. These were the working class men, much like himself, that didn't shy away from sweat and dirt. And depending on his mood, while back in Zeltiva, Karyk find himself as the grumpy one called Saul. But thankfully it seemed BIlly was in a more helpful mood than his companion. Karyk listened intently to the man, noting that the pair were caravan guards. Again, people he related to, even if he'd not spoken to those from his own caravan since arrival. He knew how dangerous of a job it was, how much responsibility it entailed, and that it really didn't pay as much as it probably should. With the summoned maiden, Karyk suddenly realized this was no meager shack at all, but rather a tavern of some sort. Just how many things could line up to suit him? She was blonde, pretty, though short by comparison to Salara, though Karyk suspected most women were. Karyk inwardly chuckled at the playful grab and the annoyed swat, knowing he'd done that himself from time to time. And it seemed the woman had the rather simple answer to his question, to which Karyk nodded at her offer of drink. "A roun' for me an' my frien's 'ere lass. An' thank ya kindly for answerin' my question." Karyk ducked into the shade of the building, leaning against the wall, looking back toward Billy and Saul now. "Where y'all headin'? I jus' arrived from Zeltiva abou'... three tendays ago. Our caravan... di'n't fair well, bu' some of us go' 'ere mostly in one piece."

[Samuel Longwell]

Sandra nodded and ducked back inside the building, presumably to find Karyk a mug. Saul's scowl softened, and he raised his mug in thanks to Karyk. The offer of a free drink had clearly mollified the man, and no longer glared at the man who had interrupted. Billy grinned, nodding appreciatively at Karyk as he drank from his mug. “That's what you get for being polite eh Saul,” Billy said, shooting a glance over to his companion. “Maybe you should try it once in a while. Karyk, go grab a chair from inside and join us. Ol' Malfazar won't mind as you're a paying customer. Always room for a man who'll buy a round with us, ain't that right Saul?” “Aye,” Saul replied, “that's true. We've just come from Nyka, merchants needed muscle to get 'em here. Most will probably come back with us once they've shifted their goods.” He nodded when Karyk mentioned his own journey not going well. “Yeah, roads are rough at the moment. Billy wouldn't have made it here without Roderick.” “I had it covered.” Billy protested, “It'd take more than a stinking Yukman to finish me off.” Sandra stepped back out with a mug of ale for Karyk, notifying him that it was 4 copper per mug before turning around and making her way back inside. Billy gave her an admiring look as she walked away, then turned back to Karyk. “I'm glad we had Roderick with us though, never seen a man swing an axe like he did. Took a Yukman's head off with a single swing, didn't even pause for breath.” He took a gulp of his ale, smacking his lips appreciatively. “Thanks for the drink Karyk, we do appreciate it.” “Talkin' of Rod, that reminds me.” Saul interjected. “I was taking a piss just before dawn and I see him going off into the forest in that strange armour of his. I don't see where he coulda been going. He may have been handy in a fight but there's definitely something off about him.” “Don't be ridiculous Saul.” Billy laughed. “You're just sour cause he could drink you under the table.” He winked at Karyk and continued in a mock whisper. “Never could handle his liquor.” Billy swatted him round the head, gulping down the rest of his drink as if to prove Saul wrong. “We'll see about that you petching swine.” Billy said, then shouted into the tavern. “Sandra, we need three refills out here.” He took another puff on his pipe, glaring at the man sitting next to him.

[Karyk]

Karyk nodded at the men, appreciating the reception to his offering. Honey is always better than vinegar, just as making good with hard working people always helped eventually. Karyk knew of how people tended to come to him for aid, be it to help with a ravosala repair, or to seek guidance from Zeltiva to a foreign land. So he treated other the way he wished to be treated, and often was treated. Dipping inside, Karyk looked around, appreciating the worn, somewhat run down feel of the small bar. It reminded him of the Kelp Bar, though without the best beer in all the land. The barmaid was filling the brews from a barrel, a golden ale with a thick head on it into wooden mugs. Karyk always enjoyed wooden mugs the best, they seemed to give a stronger taste, holding a little bit more of the beer's flavor from each pour. Picking up a chair, Karyk nodded at the other patrons and staff that looked at him. The chair was poorly crafted, oak, cut against the grain, unsanded, unbalanced, but it had held many an ass. Arm bent over his shoulder, chairing hanging against his back, Karyk turned and strode outside. It creaked and moaned as Karyk sat down, but it held the man. The wind wove through the porch, refreshing Karyk as he continued to listen to the men. They had traveled from Nyka? That was a city on the coast down south, but he didn't know anything more than that. He knew Zeltivan ships regularly went there, since it was close. Karyk nodded and thanked the barmaid as she handed him a mug, frothy and full. Just as Billy did, Karyk's eyes were drawn to the woman's ample backside and swaying hips. He brought the mug to his lip, feeling the froth tickle at his haired lip, and enjoying the smooth taste of the golden ale pouring over his tongue. But at the mention of the yukmen, Karyk scowled and growled into his mug. Pulling the cup away, he remembered every terrified face from the second yukman attack on his caravan. He remembered hearing about the young boy, hardly a man, who'd been ripped apart limb by limb. Yukmen were truly monsters. And they needed to be eradicated in full. But if the stories held true, as long as there are people and as long as there is ground, there will always be yukmen. He remembered when the head scout taught him how to fight a bit better, how he paired him up against some injured, corralled yukmen. They were strong, and smarter than they seemed. They died like men, injuries to head and organ. But they had protective stones within them that were a real problem for blade wielders. "A single swing? Tha's mighty impressive. Ran into 'em petchers more'n once. Never did much wit' a single swing though." Karyk found himself quite interested in tell of this Roderick fellow. He clearly had experience with yukmen. And from the sound of it, was a man cut from a similar cloth as Karyk. Or at least as how Karyk aspired to be. Strong, still venturing into the forest instead of being cooped up in the city, still drinking but not letting it ruin him. Karyk could be that. Karyk wanted to be that. He finished his ale, and as the refills were brought in, he gladly accepted his. He stood up though, as he sipped at it, "Where can I fin' this Roderick? Sound like 'e got some good stories." As he continued to drink his ale, Karyk carried his chair back in, nodded at the barmaid, and raised a glass to her. Stepping back out, he looked fondly out over the massive lake as he drained the rest of his beer. "An' thanks for the refill. But I got property to fin' and stories to 'ear. If I don' see ya before ya leave, safe travels friends. Give 'em yukmen an extra stabbin' from me."

[Samuel Longwell]

Saul took another long drag on his pipe, blowing out the smoke slowly. He seemed to regret having brought up Roderick. “I ain't seen him since he went out into the forest. May be that he's still out there.” He took his own mug from Sandra and raised it to his lips. “Ah, that's the stuff. They serve some o' the best booze in the whole of Sylira here. Nothing quite like getting shyke-faced on top quality ale, eh?.” “Yeah it's certainly the good stuff,” Billy said, nodding, “And Roderick wasn't around when I woke up, that's for sure. If you wanna find him then it's probably best to head out south wit' the wind, eh Karyk?” A mischievous smile danced on his lips, thinking himself witty. Saul groaned at the weak attempt to pun, swatting at his friend yet again. The two continued to bicker as Karyk ducked inside the hut. Sandra nodded back as Karyk replaced his chair, focusing on filling mugs from the large barrel sitting behind the bar. She looked busy, paying him little attention as she bustled round the tavern making sure everyone stayed topped up. The other customers inside ignored him, focusing on the drinks in front of them. Many seemed to be drinking quickly, as though burdened by issues they wished to escape. When Karyk returned from replacing his chair, Billy stood up and shook his hand. “And you, hope you get a right fancy house for yourself Karyk. Fare well. And if you see Ol' Rod say hello from us.” He slumped back into his chair, grabbing his cup and slurping from it with a smile on his face. Saul held up his hand as a way of farewell, but didn't move from his seat. “Aye, we'll return them petchers to the earth they came from. Don't you worry about that. Come back an' buy us a drink anytime you want.” To the south stretched the Wildlands, the untamed forest that Roderick had been seen heading into. Once away from the bustle of the trading post, the crash of falling trees could be heard occasionally. If one were to approach closer, the distinctive sound of an axe striking a tree could be heard between the cacophony that accompanied one of the trees falling. Thunk. Thunk. Crash. Thunk. Crash. Thunk. Thunk. Crash.

[Karyk]

Karyk clasped Billy's strong, calloused hand with his own, giving the man a proper firm handshake. Laughing lightly, "Aye, I'll tell 'im for ya." Turning to Saul, he gave the man a simple head nod at his farewell wave, "Fin' me nex' time ya'r in town, an' firs' roun's on me, so long as ya tell some good stories." With that, Karyk set his mug down on a post, and looked to the sky. It was still morning, not quite midday, and the sun was out in front of him. That meant that direction was east. So with a turn of the boot, Karyk began south. Karyk knew that within about a days ride all around Lakeshore the forest was fairly well patrolled. But no forest was safe. Not completely. It seemed that wolves and yukmen were always a constant threat, no matter where you were in Sylira, in Karyk's limited experience. He missed having Salara there, and his heart panged for her. There was comfort in having a woman that could stalk comfortably through these forests, a partner with which to fend off all the dangers of the world. Karyk really missed her. Shiress warmed his heart, but there was still that piece of Salara within him. And they were so... different, in the best of ways. Salara was primal, pure instinct, with curiosity and wonder. She lived in each and every moment it seemed. Shiress, though, she had that Zeltivan tempest that the women were known for. She reminded him of the fine qualities of home. The comfort of a mother, she cared so much for his kids and she barely knew them, simply because they were Zeltivans as well. Whichever god sent him down this path could die in a burning glory as far as Karyk was concerned. Morwen. That frigid bitch started it all. But it seemed some other god was laughing as it teased Karyk, first with a woman of excitement and adventure, then another of home and hearth. Cruelty at its finest. Karyk's mind switched back to the moment at hand, for as he crossed the threshold into the forest, he made sure to focus. He double checked his half axe, ensuring that it was still easily loosened from his belt in case he needed it. Satisfied, he trudged through the forest slowly, scanning all around him, keep an eye on his side flanks as well as watching the barely worn path in front of him. The shipwright trudged the first distant crash sounded. Karyk knew that sound too well. He'd made it many times himself. Someone was felling a tree. Smiling, Karyk assumed this to be Roderick, though it could just as easily be the lumber company that supplied the shipyard. What was their name again? Cadillac? Caricao? Something like that. But then the sound of another tree falling came far too quickly. And another, and another. Maybe this wasn't Roderick after all. No one could fell trees so quickly, would have to be an entire team of lumberjacks. Karyk began watching the tops of the trees out ahead of him. It was an old trick he'd learned a while back. By watching the tree tops, you could see which ones were about to fall. They shook more at the top than down below. As he continued along toward the sound, he saw the first tree ahead wobble and fall. And then another right next to it shortly thereafter. And another. Karyk was so confused by this. Continuing forward, he cupped his hands around his mouth, "Howdy up a'ead! Comin' t'rough and I dun wanna get squashed! Lookin' for a man known as Roderick!" And with that, Karyk pressed forward, to find this man, or at least the source of these rapidly falling trees.

[Samuel Longwell]

Another tree crashed to the ground and then there was silence. Several ticks passed before someone called back. The voice was deep and gravelly, thick with an unusual accent that coloured each of the words. It wasn't easily recognisable, but seemed to have hints of several different dialects in it. “Aye?” the reply came, “I ain' choppin' no more till yur through. Come on ou' slow-like. An' no tricks alrigh'?.” The sight that greeted Karyk was by all accounts strange. A single man stood in a clearing, surrounded by a multitude of felled trees. Tangled dark hair twisted down to his shoulders, matched in colour by the large beard that could not quite cover the suspicious scowl that covered his face. He had the look of a fighter about him, leaning on a huge battleaxe and kitted out in a bizarre suit of armour. Each piece seemed to have been taken from a large insect, chitinous shells and carapaces covering his body. Whether it had been made by the man himself or by another it was not clear, but it seemed solid enough. A few scars could be seen on his face, hinting of a history steeped in violence. “Who da petch ar' you?” he demanded, his face twisting almost into a snarl. “Why you come looking for me?” He stood up, towering several inches above Karyk's average height. He gripped his weapon tightly, watching the newcomer carefully. His fingers stroked the handle of the axe with care as he waited for Karyk to speak. There was a fierce wildness in his expression, reminiscent of a bristling bear. Teeth bared, eyes wide, and knuckles white. Ready to suddenly leap into action if the situation called for it. But he made no move towards the shorter man, allowing him his chance to explain himself.