The ride was quiet. Prauvaulient kept to himself with books and scrolls, things Warren was interested in but couldn't display open interest towards. The driver was an elezen in common clothing, looking all the part for someone just making their way to the far outposts. Of course there were the trio of guards. Two had longswords on their hips that hung lazily against their chainmail swathing, but one held a longspear that he kept propped against his shoulder and the floor.
Mind the one with the spear
He ignored the echo, his eyes watching the speartip bob and weave lazily through the air and threatening to get caught on the thick leather bundling that kept their wagon covered and, slightly, secured against the cold. Warren tried to ignore that without eyes to the outside, he had no way of being sure which direction he was being taken. He trusted his sense of direction, however, and felt no discernible change in direction or heading on their trek. The lack of conversation made it easier to focus.
you just passed them he was out there hand out reaching to you you missed it
They stayed that way for some bells and Warren felt the tug of weariness behind his eyes. It was easier to ignore that feeling when he could get up and do something instead. His eyelids felt heavy and he had no choice but to speak up. He needed something to keep his attention, anything to keep him awake.
can't hear through the wagon they're calling out for you can't hear
"So what are you doing out here, anyway?" Warren kept his tone neutral and disinterested. Prauvaulient took a deep breath and exhaled, sighing as he let the parchment he was holding land on the barrel he had propped up for a table in front of him.
"Ser Castille. You are not in a position to know these sorts of things. Let us just call it Ishagrdian business and leave it at that, hm?" The Inspector's tone was that of an adult trying not to scold a child too badly.
"Alright, alright." Warren held up both hands, palms forward to make a show of apology. "I just thought it was a bit odd that we're undercover. I'm on the side of law and order, you know."
"I'm sure all adventurers mean as they say, Ser Castille," the Inspector responded slowly, deliberately.
When they finally broke for a meal, the sun was already edging away behind the mountains. They exited the back of the caravan and Warren was having trouble placing his location but was glad to have new ground to tread. After some efficient minutes spent creating a fire, one of the mute guards - One with a sword, Warren noted - carried over a bowl of stew he had drawn from a pot.
"Yeah, thanks." He smiled while fighting the urge for his teeth to chatter, gloved hands accepting the bowl and taking grateful mouthfuls of the warm meal. He knew it would be his last for a time. Warren caught Prauvaulient looking in his direction, and Warren returned the look. The rest of the stew went uneaten.
The guards broke camp down as quickly as they had erected it, if it could even be called a camp. The one with the spear watched while those with hands free diligently and obediently dispatched of their presence there, then loaded their boxes and makeshift tables back into the cart. Warren got to his feet and moved across the small area they had chosen, meeting Prauvaulient standing before the open wagon.
"I'm sorry, Ser Castille." The elezen sighed, looking put-upon. Warren didn't flinch, instead eyeing the trio of guards while his hand rested on the pommel of his broadsword. He felt confused for a moment, blinking hard and focusing his vision on the Inspector.
"You think I'm just going... to go down like this?"
Poison you idiot you accepted their food you know better you trusted them why did you trust them
His thoughts hammered like train cars in his head, his face twisting to a sneer.
"You drugged me?!" He drew his sword, pointing it forward but the tip dipped and wobbled. Infuriated, Warren took a heavy step forward in the snow and was intercepted by the sworsman on the Inspector's right, deflecting the blow and knocking the weapon from Warren's hand. A rudimentary disarm that the paladin couldn't respond to.
"It will be easier this way, Castille. You will be asleep soon enough, and the frost will do what it needs to after that. You don't know how it pains me to waste you like this, but you are simply too meddlesome for me to leave around. Your snooping is too close to my interests." The inspector was matter-of-fact in his dismissal and Warren's head spun.
"I... What? You...!" His exclamations were punctuated with staggered breaths.
This isn't it can't be you stop promised
"At least you will have found your friends, Ser Castille." Prauvaulient's tone was almost sympathetic but Warren couldn't hear him. The highlander sank to his knees, his sense of touch already fuzzing and dimmed. He fell forward onto his hands, his mind blanking.
The Ishgardian group of four returned to their caravan without another word. The back was drawn tight and secured, then the crack of a whip sent the team of chocobo forward, turning away from the sun's last light.
get up get to your feet catch them stop fight
you promised get up for her for him for them
too cold can't you won't make it freeze
please Oschon please Halone please
Menphina please
I'm sorry Howl
please
Mind the one with the spear
He ignored the echo, his eyes watching the speartip bob and weave lazily through the air and threatening to get caught on the thick leather bundling that kept their wagon covered and, slightly, secured against the cold. Warren tried to ignore that without eyes to the outside, he had no way of being sure which direction he was being taken. He trusted his sense of direction, however, and felt no discernible change in direction or heading on their trek. The lack of conversation made it easier to focus.
you just passed them he was out there hand out reaching to you you missed it
They stayed that way for some bells and Warren felt the tug of weariness behind his eyes. It was easier to ignore that feeling when he could get up and do something instead. His eyelids felt heavy and he had no choice but to speak up. He needed something to keep his attention, anything to keep him awake.
can't hear through the wagon they're calling out for you can't hear
"So what are you doing out here, anyway?" Warren kept his tone neutral and disinterested. Prauvaulient took a deep breath and exhaled, sighing as he let the parchment he was holding land on the barrel he had propped up for a table in front of him.
"Ser Castille. You are not in a position to know these sorts of things. Let us just call it Ishagrdian business and leave it at that, hm?" The Inspector's tone was that of an adult trying not to scold a child too badly.
"Alright, alright." Warren held up both hands, palms forward to make a show of apology. "I just thought it was a bit odd that we're undercover. I'm on the side of law and order, you know."
"I'm sure all adventurers mean as they say, Ser Castille," the Inspector responded slowly, deliberately.
When they finally broke for a meal, the sun was already edging away behind the mountains. They exited the back of the caravan and Warren was having trouble placing his location but was glad to have new ground to tread. After some efficient minutes spent creating a fire, one of the mute guards - One with a sword, Warren noted - carried over a bowl of stew he had drawn from a pot.
"Yeah, thanks." He smiled while fighting the urge for his teeth to chatter, gloved hands accepting the bowl and taking grateful mouthfuls of the warm meal. He knew it would be his last for a time. Warren caught Prauvaulient looking in his direction, and Warren returned the look. The rest of the stew went uneaten.
The guards broke camp down as quickly as they had erected it, if it could even be called a camp. The one with the spear watched while those with hands free diligently and obediently dispatched of their presence there, then loaded their boxes and makeshift tables back into the cart. Warren got to his feet and moved across the small area they had chosen, meeting Prauvaulient standing before the open wagon.
"I'm sorry, Ser Castille." The elezen sighed, looking put-upon. Warren didn't flinch, instead eyeing the trio of guards while his hand rested on the pommel of his broadsword. He felt confused for a moment, blinking hard and focusing his vision on the Inspector.
"You think I'm just going... to go down like this?"
Poison you idiot you accepted their food you know better you trusted them why did you trust them
His thoughts hammered like train cars in his head, his face twisting to a sneer.
"You drugged me?!" He drew his sword, pointing it forward but the tip dipped and wobbled. Infuriated, Warren took a heavy step forward in the snow and was intercepted by the sworsman on the Inspector's right, deflecting the blow and knocking the weapon from Warren's hand. A rudimentary disarm that the paladin couldn't respond to.
"It will be easier this way, Castille. You will be asleep soon enough, and the frost will do what it needs to after that. You don't know how it pains me to waste you like this, but you are simply too meddlesome for me to leave around. Your snooping is too close to my interests." The inspector was matter-of-fact in his dismissal and Warren's head spun.
"I... What? You...!" His exclamations were punctuated with staggered breaths.
This isn't it can't be you stop promised
"At least you will have found your friends, Ser Castille." Prauvaulient's tone was almost sympathetic but Warren couldn't hear him. The highlander sank to his knees, his sense of touch already fuzzing and dimmed. He fell forward onto his hands, his mind blanking.
The Ishgardian group of four returned to their caravan without another word. The back was drawn tight and secured, then the crack of a whip sent the team of chocobo forward, turning away from the sun's last light.
get up get to your feet catch them stop fight
you promised get up for her for him for them
too cold can't you won't make it freeze
please Oschon please Halone please
Menphina please
I'm sorry Howl
please
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
