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A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Printable Version

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A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Nero - 07-05-2015

"Y-you...!" The gasp was accompanied with a violent cough of blood.

A crimson stain had begun to veil itself over the Elezen's vision as he feebly attempted to twist his body, but every motion he made caused something on his person to scream in painful protest. His breathing was ragged, his eyes fluttering rapidly in an attempt to blink away the blood that pooled above his eyes. He couldn't see exactly where he was wounded, but he could feel his life ebb away like loose sand washed away from the shore. Though it required every ounce of effort he could muster, the Elezen managed to reach a hand towards his face to rip his Wailer's mask off of his face.

Though he found naught to greet him but a merciless metal edge.

The towering figure drove the honed blade deep into the Wailer's skull, the impact making contact with a sickening crack. An irreverent boot found itself on the unfortunate Elezen's neck, and some grunts accompanied the spilch of the weapon being violently extricated from the cadaver. The wooded copse had fallen eerily silent now. Though the sun had breached the apex of the horizon and its argent companion would soon be making its ascent into its star-scattered shroud, not a peep could be discerned from either brush or branch. No owl cried out its jeers and no beastkin dare made itself known to the bloody scene, perhaps out of respect for the dead.

The imposing assailant sniffed the air before glancing down at the dark ruby splotches that darkened the blued steel of his weapon. The gleaming emerald outline of the Xaela's eyes shimmered in the dusk with equal parts contemplation and disdain at the sight around him. Two other bodies besides the one beneath his feet lay sprawled amidst the grove. A female Midlander was missing an arm and a leg, and another male Elezen sported an impressive gash across the whole length of his torso.

The Xaela brushed a gloved hand through jet black locks, fringed with streaks of deep forest green. His square jaw was firmly set, with lustrous obsidian scales adorning rust red skin, and his face seemed permanently fixed in an expression of humourless severity. A thick tunic of pale fur wrapped itself around his muscular frame, with his left shoulder exposed for freedom of movement, guarded by a metal pauldron. To call Kasrjin Khadai "austere" would be to call a glacier somewhat lethargic, and it was with a deliberate sweep of a clump of grasses that the Xaela did his best to clean the blood off of his weapon.

He'd been avoiding the more obvious signs of civilization--roads, blazed trails, and so on--in an attempt to avert this exact kind of situation, and yet somehow the inhabitants of this wood had managed to find him. Kasrjin's thin mouth stretched into a frown and his head swiveled to examine his surroundings. Every single area of this wood looked like the last area; a tall canopy of trees enveloping the forest floor like a cloak. Every now and then a shrub would rustle or a bird would chirp, but otherwise there was very little with which he could ascertain his location or direction. Every turn he had made thus far into the wood had lead the Au Ra in circles, loops, twists and turns.

Kasrjin's gaze fixed towards the three mangled bodies behind him. Hiding or burying them was pointless; if they had managed to track him, then it was possible that more were coming. Even so, certain preparations had to be made, least of which was a meal with which to sustain himself. Tied to the Xaela's back with small lengths of hempen twine was the carcass of a small doe. If memory served, it was for this that the other three had pursued him for--the taller, sharp-eared male had pointed at it and shouted before running forward with a spear in hand.

The Xaela's mouth twisted in thought. Perhaps they held the animals sacred, or perhaps he had trespassed unawares. Regardless, if his intuition was correct, those individuals had been doggedly pursuing him for at least a full sun now, but even so, he needed to eat. Kasrjin lumped the body of the doe onto the ground and laid his long sword to rest at his side as he knelt down pulled out a knife appropriated from one of his assailants. Getting rid of the carcass was impossible, but the least he could do would be to harvest what he could from it before night fell.

As he set the knife about the doe, the Xaela glanced at his surroundings again. Though the bodies would have to be moved, the copse made an ideal camp site, although his frown deepened when he spotted the dried trail of blood that lead directly into the grove. That could cause problems, especially if the masked warriors who had attacked him were accompanied by a larger group. Still, the grove was somewhat isolated and the approach to it was a hill, though not as steep as he would have liked.

Would that a Nayantai be here, though the back of his mind knew that skilled hunters as they were, the Nayantai worked best in familiar territory, and this intimidating maze of timber and flora could not be called familiar to the best of them. How any of the denizens manage to navigate this labyrinth was beyond him, though he supposed that featureless expanses of ice and winding mountains would just be confusing to them as these woods were to him.

There had been a road some suns in the direction Kasrjin had come from, yet even as the Xaela carved into the doe's body, he could not be certain that he'd be able to find the road again.

Such was the nature of hindsight.

Flanks of raw meat appropriated from the doe, Kasrjin set about removing the bodies. Each of the armored forms had any useful objects appropriated from them and unceremoniously shoved down the hill some ways beneath the grove. One of two things would happen. Either none came, and the grove would be a safe place to sleep...or more assailants would appear, in which case the sloping hill and the isolated grove would prove to be an ample place to stage an ambush.

The Xaela wrapped the meat in large rawhide squares before shoving them into a furred pack, and started to make his way further up the hill.

With luck, the night would bring no surprises.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Edda - 07-06-2015

It was a quiet afternoon in the reaches of the Shroud, and though the sun sat unclouded in the sky a cool wind drifted through the branches from Coerthas, chilling the air. There was a stillness in the wood, one that would send shivers down the neck of any resident – the older among them looking to the sky for rain or thunder, or even some terrible sort of wind. Edda was no such resident however, the charge in the air lost on her La Noscean sensibilities.

Edda prepared for a walk as she did most other days during her stay in Fallgourd Float. Having never been one for navigation of any sort, each one of her forays took her deeper into the Shroud as she learned the lay of the land, and attempt with little success to hone her ability to call upon the Elementals. The number of times she had gotten lost was far more than she would care to admit, and had only luck and a growing amount of Wood Wailers to thank for her many safe returns. Still, this did not deter her, and her confidence in navigating the expanse of forest between Fallgourd and Hyrstmill grew with each journey.

Leaving from the Eastern gate of the small town, Edda struck a peculiar contrast with natives of the Shroud, a feature many Wailers attributed to her penchant for losing her way. Little argument could be made that she was appropriately dressed for the outdoors, but her clothes were neither weathered nor serviceable, a common trait in Gridanian apparel. A finely made dalmatica dyed a modest pink, decorated with golden clasps and patterns, and boots so finely tailored they seemed more suited for display than actual use. She would consider them plain, yet they did nothing to mask her well-groomed appearance.

Having left Fallgourd, Edda followed the path as she normally did, before following an easy slope off the trail and into the woods. It was not the first time she had gone this way, being one of many routes she used to climb a steep hill that led to a large boulder with a remarkable view. Edda was no frontiersman, and moved at a slow pace. She reached out to touch the trees and plants as she moved around them, the feel no longer fresh but not yet a memory, only stopping to tighten her ponytail or adjust her boots. The hill was still a ways off, and Edda took a moment to rest on a nearby stump, carefully tucking her dalmatica underneath her.

Beside her was a shrub adorned with white flowers, ones that Edda recognized from her own garden at home. She smiled to herself as she reached out to pick one, and it was there she noticed something strange. A line of red streaked across the side of the shrub, as if someone had run by it with a paintbrush. Edda was no stranger to the sight, but her blood ran cold at the sight of it. Pairs of footprints on the ground led up the slope. They were not the prints of any beast, and Edda knew better than to pursue an injured animal. Yet the possibility of someone wandering the woods while injured was enough to compel Edda, and so she gathered herself up and followed the trail at a quicker pace, her heart pounding in her chest. There was more blood spattered on the leaves of trees and bushes through the woods. It was still fresh, and Edda cursed herself for bringing nothing more than a simple rosewood wand with her.

It did not take long at her quickened pace for her to stumble upon a small grove. The sight that awaited her there was enough for bile to rise to her mouth almost instantly. Edda snapped her head towards the sky and swallowed it, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. The smell was beginning to manifest under the sun, and from the small look she gleaned Edda knew there were no survivors. It would not be the first time she had witnessed such gore but the sight was still shocking enough for Edda to keep her gaze towards the canopy. Edda did what she could to manage her breathing, closing her mouth and breathing through her nose. She lowered her head to scan the horizon slowly, resolute on not looking down at the carnage.

As she looked towards the line of trees up the slope, Edda could make out the distinct figure of a tall man – an Elezen perhaps – as he retreated deeper into the woods. There was no way to tell if he was responsible, or simply the first unfortunate citizen to stumble upon this grove. Edda stumbled forward and followed his trail at a distance, using trees as both support and cover. Whether he was dangerous or not seemed irrelevant in her mind. Though she was close enough to be seen he did not seem to make any notice of her presence, and if she managed to travel just a bit further, she could descend back to Fallgourd in another direction to avoid the grove. Wiping the sweat from her brow with her sleeve, Edda continued forward, her heart still fluttering wildly in fear.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Nero - 07-06-2015

He was being followed.

Though, it was not as if there was any way for Kasrjin to know that. Unlike the stark, rugged glaciers or the winding mountains, the forests of the Shroud were a relentless assault on the senses. Every breeze caused a thousand branches to chime in rhythmic staccato, and every broken twig that cracked beneath his boot sent something--or someone--scurrying away in trepidation through a thousand more unfortunate shrubs and leaves. The wildlife that had so politely excused him during his combat with his masked assailants had just as rudely and suddenly returned and bombarded the silence away with chatters and chirps.

His original plan had been to loop around in case he was being followed, but that endeavour had been handily sunk, for not only was it nigh impossible to determine a pursuer's presence, but Kasrjin found himself lost the instant he left anything that could resemble familiar ground. It was if the forest itself was alive and impeding his progress, perhaps in penance for slaying those who were meant to protect it.

The Xaela trudged over ledges and roots, the sloping hill gradually giving way to flatter, less obtuse terrain, and shook his head at the thought. It was possible, but improbable. He paused and turned his head slightly to the side, hoping to catch a glance of something from his peripheral vision. Every new stop brought a new sound, a new smell, a new sight, and try as he might, Kasrjin had completely failed to differentiate what was and wasn't a threat.

A sigh of frustration escaped his lips as he paused again to examine his surroundings. It was nothing but more timber, more grass, more rocks, more dirt...nothing at all that indicated where he was or where he could be going. Once again, the wooded labyrinth had wrapped him in its loving embrace, and even finding north seemed impossible.

The Au Ra continued wandering aimlessly, hoping to at least find a camp site before night fell when a foul odor made itself offensively known to his nose in the same way that an errant bird might find itself unwelcome inside a blacksmith's furnace. The frown that split itself across Kasrjin's face turned into a scowl when his steps took him to a familiar site: an arboreous copse perched on a gentle, inclined hill, marked with displaced dirt and dried blood. That stench was one of the spear warrior's bodies being returned to the earth further down the hill where he had kicked it.

He'd done nothing more than make a complete circle.

His mind paused briefly.

That was intentional.

He shook his head.

After a thorough examination of the site to make sure he simply hadn't mistaken one corpse-ridden grove with another that just happened to have the same marks, blood, and bodies--with this forest, Kasrjin could never tell--and that this was indeed where the fight had taken place, the Xaela's vexation gave way to exasperation and eventually submission. After all, he had noted that the grove would make a relatively isolated campsite, and it's not as if the flanks of venison sitting in his furred pack were getting any fresher. If he was lucky, the smell of decomposing cadavers might also keep away more squeamish visitors...or it'd bring unwanted attention. Yet, perhaps that was not so bad. Assuming they didn't attack him outright--an audacious assumption to be making, surely--Kasrjin noted that perhaps they might lead him out of this godforsaken forest. He sat down on a felled log and laid the furred pack and the, the sword immediately slumping to the ground, as if sensing the defeat of its wielder.

Damn his pursuers, if they even existed. The Xaela set about looking for twigs for a fire to dry the venison.

He might be stumbled upon by more who wished him harm, but that had to be better than being lost for another sun.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Edda - 07-10-2015

She had lost sight of the figure quickly enough.

Meandering cautiously behind him, Edda began to head West as best she could. She fought against the incline of the slope until she reached her original destination - a flat boulder jut out of the steep bank overlooking a river. The drop below was nearly 50 fulms into deep waters. An intimidating, if not deadly plunge in her eyes, but that did not stop certain locals leaping off as tests of courage. She dared not approach the edge, so she instead sat on the fallen trunk of a nearby tree to rest. There was never cause for such haste in her walks, and though she was by no means swift in making her way here, her legs and chest ached.

Now with a chance for respite, Edda’s mind was left to wander to the gruesome scene at the grove. It felt as if every nerve in her body had gone numb, and it was a wonder her legs were able to carry her as far as they did. What had happened there? An Ixali encampment was several malms away, though it was not unheard of for bands of them to wander so close to civilization. Still, there had been no sign of them from the cursory glance she had spared the area, and the wounds on the bodies were unlike any she had seen on those brought back to Fallgourd for treatment. The distant figure she had seen might have been the cause, but with little effort to hide the bodies, and Wood Wailers being unprofitable targets, it struck her as unlikely.

Sitting there listening to the rushing water below her, Edda cursed herself for not making her way back to the road immediately. There was no guarantee it would have been safer, but other Wailers should be alerted, if they did not already know.

It was possible they had already discovered it.

A reassuring thought, but not enough to placate her desire to forget the scene altogether. It was not far from the road, and the chance of the bodies being happened upon seemed favorable. It would do no harm to check, and if things were as Edda had left them, then she could alert the guards at Fallgourd. Still, she had no desire to witness such brutality again, the thought alone enough to make her feel ill. A familiar image to her, one devoid of anything but fear, the centerpiece of countless sleepless nights – it was not something she could so easily be at ease with. It would be better to wait.

And so she did, each minute passed another chance for the dead to be discovered and moved. The mountain range separating the Shroud and Coerthas could be seen more clearly here, a dark stretch of cloud approaching Fallgourd at a steady pace. As she waited, the wind began to quicken, the charge of an oncoming thunderstorm beginning to fill the air. The sun still shone brightly as the afternoon began to pass by, but as soon as the dark cover of clouds could be seen across the river, Edda picked herself up and began to head back down to the road.

It was a faster journey downhill, though not any easier. More suited to a ballroom than the rough terrain of the forest, her feet tripped and stumbled over rocks and fallen branches, her arms reaching out to tree trunks to stop herself from falling the rest of the way there. As she arrived at the clearing, Edda stopped to survey what she could. Most of the grove was obscured by low branches, but the smell of death was now mixed with fire, and smoke could be seen rising from the center. What could they possibly need a fire for? The movement of Wood Wailers was notably absent. She slid down to the next tree to get a closer look, small rocks and leaves rolling down the hill from her disturbance.

At this new vantage point Edda could make out the form of the person she had seen earlier, hunched over the fire, his back facing her. That the same man would return and leave the bodies undisturbed was telling. She had best avoid this man and return to the safety of her room. He did not yet make any notice of her presence despite her proximity, and so she began to slowly skirt the edge of the grove. No sooner had she let go of the trunk did her foot snag underneath a root, sending her lurching forward. She let out a short yelp as she fell and tumbled down the slope a short ways, stopping only as her back collided with a tree. It was not the first time this had happened, so she was relatively quick in straightening herself out. She was winded however, and she hissed at a sharp sting in her ankle as she sat up. There would be no running now, and the noise she caused had surely been alarming. Edda froze, her breathing hitching as she nursed her ankle, hoping her presence had gone unnoticed.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Nero - 07-10-2015

In the first instant, he had merely assumed that that particularly loud rustle of shrubbery was more of this damnable forest's trickery. In the next instant, the blued steel of the sword had vanished from its harness, the latter tumbling away into the nearby foliage from the forceful swing that had extricated its occupant.

The Xaela held the lengthy weapon horizontally, parallel to his body and close to his abdomen. The confined spaces of the forest would make wide swings impractical; one hand was held close to the top of the main grip just beneath the crossguard, and the other hand held firmly onto the blunted, leather-wrapped section of the blade just above it, his stance resembling that of one who was wielding a short spear. The shimmering viridian of his eyes had narrowed so as to focus his vision amongst the shadows that leapt to and fro from every leaf and branch, and the honed edge of the Au Ra's armament practically sang in the air with anticipation.

If the ebony scales of Kasrjin's horns could have twitched, they would have. The jolts made by the vegetation--and the barely audible yowl that accompanied it--was far too vehement to have been an act of the wind or a small animal, not unless a gale had arrived without warning or the rodents had grown to unusual sizes. There was someone, or something else present. Another of the masked assailants? A wild beast? He stepped lightly, leaning on the heels of his feet as opposed to the toe. The Xaela's eye twitched slightly with every crunch from a dried leaf or every snap from an errant twig. Every other step, Kasrjin paused briefly, attempting to focus on his hearing in order to hone in on the source of his discomfort.

An idle boot instinctively kicked a clump of dirt onto the tiny fire, whose embers flickered in protest at its treatment and gradually began to die. Kasrjin's steps were still full of wary trepidation, and he slowly twisted and turned to examine his surroundings. Once again, the forest's untamed denizens had ceased their chatter and fallen into a hushed silence. Whoever had deigned to make the disturbance had not revealed themselves. Therefore, the Au Ra reasoned, they either remained hidden or had fled. The former was far more likely unless the unwelcome presence flew on silent wings, and his cautious advance had begun to take him further down the slope. The Xaela's head swiveled above and below him. What he'd once written off as featureless greenery became an ominous and menacing setting wherein occupied the most fearsome opponent that any mortal could face: the unknown.

A flash of colour caught Kasrjin's eye, and his cautious steps became long strides to better clarify the image that appeared before him. A hardened, stern expression, ready for blood and battle, melted into an apprehensive frown comprised of equal parts bafflement and suspicion. The ready stance of his weapon weakened somewhat, and the Au Ra's movement had ceased its descent of the slope so jarringly that meandering streaks marred the dirt.

It was said that the limited nature of mortals provided an equally limited perspective, and as such they could not possibly imagine the unknown, for obvious reasons. Even so, Kasrjin had a few preconceived notions as to the accoutrements of the unknown, notions that were handily dashed by the sight of the outlandish bundle of pink and gilded accessories that was nearly prostrate further ways down the slope. The colours and slight form contrasted heavily with his own heavy, muscular frame lined with white fur and wild, rough leather, and marred with stains of maroon.

His sword was still held at the ready, but the memory of combat with the masked warriors was still fresh on the Xaela's mind. Avoiding more disputes of that nature would be the most advantageous course of action, and this new individual did not hold a similar appearance to those who had attacked him earlier. And yet, there was the possibility that the denizens of this wood had intended for this to happen.

The sword tensed in the air.

With luck, that idea was untrue.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Edda - 07-11-2015

In hindsight, it was foolish of her to think such a disturbance would go unnoticed. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on edge as the distinctive sound of footsteps drew closer. It was a slow advance, one marked with apprehension. Branches bent and snapped as the figure left the grove, and Edda knew she was as good as caught.
 
When the footsteps ground to an abrupt halt Edda dared to move, looking up from her ankle to the direction the sound had come. She had not expected the sight before her. Less alerted by the unsheathed weapon, her eyes focused on the dark figure that bore it. He was no Elezen, that much was certain. Dark scales speckled about his skin, heavy horns protruding from his head – he was every bit more fearsome than she could have imagined. It was not the first time she had seen one of these creatures. There had been the airy, dainty woman with horns of gold and a voice like bells, but the man standing before her was the perfect contrast. His height and expression alone were enough to send chills down Edda’s spine. Panic was apparent on her face – eyes wide and focused, the color drained from her face. Perhaps this man was used to such a reaction, but the thought did little to allay her. Fear would afford her little.
 
Edda lowered her gaze from his face, fixating instead on the claymore he wielded. It was clear from the size of it, and the stains on his garb, that he had been responsible for the deaths of the three Wood Wailers. Though the sword was clean, the size of the gashes on the bodies determined it the likely culprit. What little information on his race she gleaned from the library at home managed her no guess to his motivations. Whether he acted in self-defense or killed in cold blood, the man was dangerous. She could offer no explanation for her presence here, nor did she have anything substantial to give him in exchange for her safe release.
 
Edda felt very much trapped. Still, she felt little need to await her death at the hands of an unknown barbarian.

The damp soil of the forest began to seep through her clothes as she sat at the base of the tree. Her ankle still pained her, but Edda reached out to the trunk to steady herself as she pushed off the ground. She moved slowly as to not alert the man, though she could not move any faster if she tried. She grimaced as she stood. Her body ached from her short tumble down, and she shifted her weight to her good leg and leaned her back against the tree. Edda glanced away for a moment to look further down the slope. The road was not far. She would not be able to run, but perhaps if she managed to hurl herself down to the road, it would deter him from following. His weapon was a heavy one, and he had little room for a quick swing. There was still a chance.
 
Yet the man had made no move to harm her yet, and had said nothing. His expression was focused and cold. Her breath came out in shallow gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. She was afraid. Edda reached up to wipe off a smear of dirt on her cheek. This was not the first time she had been in such a quandary, and she had survived this far. Edda met the man’s stare and took a deep breath, relaxing her face. Though fright still shone through in her eyes, she forced a sharp glare at the man. It was an even look of both impatience and disdain. There was practice in her bearing, one that gave the impression that she was far more resourceful than she seemed. She braced herself against the tree and spoke in a low voice.
 
“Well? Are you going to kill me or not?”

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Nero - 07-11-2015

His piercing gaze scrutinized the bundle. Its slight features and slender build implied femininity, though given the effort that Kasrjin had put into avoiding any and all of the western continent's denizens, he had no way to know for sure. The features of her face had amalgamated into a steely expression. She carried no weapons, but that did not mean she was incapable of inflicting harm. Kasrjin had not yet borne witness to whether or not the peoples of this land were capable of utilizing the Correspondence, but that was not information he was particularly interested in verifying, given the tense situation.

The Xaela held his sword still, the point facing outward and a hand poised on the flat of it. The trees would make swings impossible, and so he altered his grip so as to be ready to thrust the weapon at an instant's provocation. The stranger, in turn, leaned against a tree. Kasrjin tilted his head slightly, noting the way she leaned against one leg. An injury? That would explain the yelp and the tumble, but what that didn't explain was what she was doing in a presumably wild part of the wood in the first place.

A faint spot of self-awareness was cognizant of how he must appear to the female, regardless of whether or not she had intended to harm him. He did not particularly wish to be intimidating to her--it would make discourse difficult--though the circumstances demanded that it be an advantage.

It would seem that the female wished to interrupt Kasrjin's steady and silent observation of her as her expression morphed into one of haughtiness as she leaned against the tree and spoke.

"Well? Are you going to kill me or not?"

Immediately following the question was a sense of profound bafflement that washed over him like sand muffling an errant seashell and expressed itself in a stern frown. The Xaela understood what the individual words meant, but not when they were arranged in that particular order. What was the purpose of the query? He was already poised to kill her if needed to, yes, but Kasrjin felt that his intentions--at the very least, the intention to not kill her without provocation--was evident by way of the fact that he had not yet done so. If she perceived him as an opponent, then what could she have gained by doubting whether or not he had intended to kill her? Clearly, if he was to be considered an enemy with which to engage in combat or from which she needed to flee, then his intentions could be reasonably inferred from that assumption and thus the time asking such a superfluous inquiry could have been better used instead for either of those courses of action. It was akin to seeing the sun pause in the sky and asking if it was going to rise from the horizon.

The Au Ra shook his head, both as a silent answer to the female's question and to clear his own mind. Tsanai had made persistent warning of this continent's oddities, but to be expected to interpret such perplexing behaviour at this early outset was an unexpectedly challenging development.

Kasrjin lowered the point of his sword and relaxed his grip on his weapon. After all, his intention was to wound or maim, but not to kill. He needed an egress from this forest, but should she attempt hostile action, the Xaela felt ready to disable her.

"Where is the road?" he rumbled, attempting to match the volume of the female's inquiry. His voice was a perplexing contradiction of smooth and gravelly, like crumbled rocks being slid down a chute.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Edda - 07-11-2015

The man made no move to attack. He seemed rather unperturbed by her appearance and question, and Edda was thankful neither of those things was enough to provoke him into action, in spite of his barbarous appearance. Despite the standstill, she did not relax, still tense against the tree and watching the man closely for any signs of aggression. Neither of them moved, and for a moment the woman wondered if he could understand her. Her perception was quickly dashed when the man shook his head and lowered his sword, an action which made her noticeably flinch.
 
“Where is the road?”
 
A rather unexpected inquiry. Edda’s expression morphed into a blank stare, her lips parting at the absurdity of it. He was no native, clearly, but the directness of it surprised her, and it did little to compliment his brutish bearing. There was sincerity in his query that left her all the more baffled. It was not an uncommon thing to hear from simple travelers, but if that was all he was then surely there was no need for such brutality. He was dressed for the outdoors, but to miss the road entirely at so short a distance seemed improbable. Perhaps he was chased into the woods for committing some sort of crime. It would explain the killings, unless that was his way of thanking people for directions.
 
Having the ability to lose her way in any environment, Edda was far from unsympathetic to the man. However, his uncouth actions seemed an ill-fit for one wanting to travel by road. Here, following the road would lead him to only two places: Fallgourd Float, or Gridania. If his destination lay beyond those two points, he would need to pass through, or risk losing his way again by circling around. With stains of blood on his clothes and his incongruous appearance in the reclusive Shroud, entering any bastion of civilization would be a poor idea. It was doubtful he was headed to either location, but if he was he would not make it far past the gates before being apprehended. A humorous thought, but she doubt he would go peacefully, and perhaps take even more lives with him in the process.
 
Edda shifted her weight to test her ankle. A jolt of disapproving pain coursed up her leg, and so she resumed favoring her right leg and leaned further into the tree. Ready to address his question, she turned to look down the slope, and carefully pointed down past the tree. “It is just down the hill. You would be hard-pressed to miss it.”
 
She turned back to the man to gauge his reaction, or receive gratitude in the form of cold steel. The dark clouds that had been approaching from Coerthas began to make their way over the canopy, stopping more light from entering the dense forest. Edda narrowed her eyes as she inspected the Au Ra once more. Even in the poor light, the bright emerald rings in his eyes stood out. The tattered leathers and furs of his garb were unlike any she had seen before, and even considering the more outlandish companies of adventurers in Eorzea, Edda could not imagine an area within a thousand malms that would be receptive to such an appearance.
 
Edda paused and licked her lips. A small smile made its way across her features, though mixed with her unabated fear it felt more like an awkward smirk. “Although,” she began in a hesitant voice. “If you are heading into town, I would suggest a change of clothes.” There was a lilt of inquisitiveness in her voice, for her own sake as well of those in Fallgourd. She would not be able to beat him there in her current state, and she made no move of leaving her present position. She hoped he planned to leave peacefully, and if he did so, whatever information she could garner from him could be put to use later on. He did not seem rather talkative however, and so Edda awaited his next course of action, and less so his words.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Nero - 07-11-2015

Kasrjin frowned. Surely that was not correct. There were some very basic principles to finding one's way--following water, tracking shadows cast by the sun, following the stars, and so on. All of these had failed him one way or another for various reasons. The stream had ended in an aquifer, the arboreous canopy made sunlight and shadows inaccurate, and the layout of the stars from this continent was completely foreign.

Then again, he was a stranger to this land. To be lost was to be expected, and it would be foolish to assume that any concepts, much less those related to geography, would remain universal.

The Xaela lowered his weapon further such that the tip hovered just above the soil, attempting to appear less threatening while maintaining a practical posture in case he was required to act. The female appeared to be somewhat less wary, though he could tell that she was still tense and prepared to flee if the situation called for it. Still, the fact that she was even speaking to him, even if it was due to an injury, was fortuitous. Kasrjin felt some small measure of relief, that perhaps he may yet be guided from this obtuse forest.

At the comment made to his appearance, he glanced down briefly. Garments aside, he was sure to be out of place in any settlement. It would likely be best to continue avoiding civilization for now, at least within the realms of practicality. If there was a town nearby, then it was highly likely that the masked assailants that had attacked him had resided there, and undue antagonism would cause aggravating delays.

After several silent moments of breath thought, Kasrjin exhaled and trudged a short distance to pick up the sword harness that had been flung off the blade, and the fur pack he had abandoned. Affixing the harness back to himself, he stared the female in the eye, taking note of the adverse weather that seemed to be approaching unrestrained.

"I require guidance towards snow and mountains." His manner of speech was not unlike the Xaela himself: blunt and to-the-point. Even the way he spoke the words sounded as if iotas of breath had been clipped from the beginning and end so as to be efficient. "Point me in the proper direction and I shall be on my way."

Of course, there was little reason to assume that any directions he received would be correct, but there were a few possibilities in the Au Ra's mind. One is that she would give him a random direction and he would leave, allowing her to depart in peace. Then, he would likely become lost again. The second was that she would be willing to guide him personally, though that held its own host of traps and ambushes, to say nothing of the female's injury.

Tsanai had told him of the concept of bartering services as opposed to physical possessions that that the western continent possessed. Odd as it was, perhaps he could use that.

His eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips attempting to find the right words. "I will offer my body in return," Kasrjin offered, his expression stern and straightfaced. It made sense. It was very likely that this female possessed the perceptive abilities to discern his status as a warrior from both his weapon and his clothing. Thus, if the peoples truly did trade services, then it would only stand to reason that she might wish to utilize his abilities as payment, and that to word the offer in such a straightforward manner meant it would be unlikely that she would misunderstand his intent.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Edda - 07-13-2015

The answer seemed to dismay him.
 
As he lowered his weapon and foraged for its harness, Edda let out a sharp sigh through her teeth and relaxed against the tree. She kept her eyes trained on him as he moved. Had he planned to hurt her, he would have done so already, and the genuine vexation in his expression made him seem less the cold-blooded killer she had first taken him for.
 
Rather than make his way towards the road, as she had expected him to, the man turned to her once more and spoke. “I require guidance towards snow and mountains. Point me in the proper direction and I shall be on my way.” This was a far more ambitious request than his prior need for the road. Edda narrowed her eyes at the man in doubt – that he would simply let her go was doubtful at best. With his sharp eyes, her injury had almost certainly not escaped his notice. Even still, setting her free would no doubt lead to trouble for him later on, as she would likely alert more Wailers to his heading.
 
Either he was daft, or overly-trusting, or both. It would be just as easy for her to point him towards Gridania, where he would be likely to run into trouble. And even if she showed him the correct route, he had little assurance that he would not become lost once more.
 
Edda watched his features morph into a shadow of frustration. “I will offer my body in return.” This was much more unexpected. Edda gaped at the man, her brows furrowing and lips parting. What possible use could she have for his body? Use his scales as a washboard? Hang her underwear out to dry on his horns? There was little else she could imagine what he, or anyone else for that matter, could mean by such a thing. His expression remained stern, and it became clear his offer was quite serious.
 
Her eyes focused once more on his sword and outlandish clothes. He appeared unhurt, and felling three Wood Wailers with little issue would mean he was quite skilled with a blade. It was not uncommon for one to bargain their services in exchange for another, though Edda had not done so before. He was not very well-spoken, but the assumption was a likely one. It did not seem a fair trade, to offer himself as a weapon in exchange for mere directions. If he planned to go alone, she would not be able to obtain his services anyway, rendering the proposal negligible.
 
Oh.The meaning of the offer clicked as he stared at her expectantly. Whether he did not trust her for accurate guidance, or he feared losing his way yet again, the veiled suggestion in his appeal became clear. However, it was still an assumption on her part, though she saw little harm in testing the waters.
 
“Are you asking me to take you there personally?” Her lips curled into an uneasy smile, her brow still furrowed. She did not wait for an answer, and once more test her left ankle with her weight. The pain still persist, but she would be able to walk if need be. “If I refuse, will you take me as a hostage?” The question sounded more like a challenge than the actual fear she felt at such a thought. The Au Ra seemed observant enough to realize she would not put up much of a fight – at least in the ways that he would expect.
 
Waiting for a response, Edda looked up at the clouded sky.Perhaps she could yet find some use for the man. It would not be the first time she consorted with a killer, and the thought did little to perturb her. She knew the way to Coerthas in theory alone, having only flown in by airship once before. Despite being a native of Vylbrand, Llymlaen had not blessed her with any navigational skills to speak of, though she saw little point in bringing that up now.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Nero - 07-13-2015

Kasrjin tilted his head, his brow creased with consternation. Judging by the curious expression on the female's face, his offer was not very well-received, though the Xaela had no way of knowing if it was because of the nature of the trade itself or because of how he had clumsily worded it. The corner of his lip curled in some frustration. Situations like this were to be expected, of course, given the nature of foreign lands, but having to spar with hidden meanings and obtuse customs like some dithering Aljai was not something the warrior found preferable.

At the female's query, the Au Ra shook his head. He maintained eye contact with her with a stony countenance, gazing at her curiously. More odd questions, and a word he was unfamiliar with, though from the sounds Kasrjin could attempt to infer its meaning. The first syllable of the word sounded like "house", a place of residence, but what the "age" meant was anyone's guess. Was she asking for his hospitality? Unless she were blind, she should be able to see that he was travelling on his own and thus would have no dwelling to speak of, not unless she mistakenly believed that he resided in this wood. And if she refused to give him the information he needed, why would Kasrjin ever consider making her a house guest, anyway?

"No," the Xaela said, shaking his head once more. "I will not take you as a...host-age. I only require direction, or guidance, to my destination." It was possible that she would simply draw him into more of those masked warriors, but getting into a fight had more predictable results than simply continuing to wander aimlessly. Kasrjin judged the risk to be worth it.

Would it be worth it attempting to bargain with services again? Perhaps. "I will fight in return. Should you wish," he offered again a bit more awkwardly. It was impossible to tell if this would actually work or not, but it didn't particularly matter. At the very least, Kasrjin knew where the road was now, so finding his way north from there should be a matter of relative simplicity.

So he hoped.

"I do not wish to cause trouble," he added in an attempt at earnestness. "But it is important that I reach snow and mountains." As an attempt at a show of good faith, he relaxed his grip on the sword such that only one hand gripped it, the other falling to his side. Simple directions would be sufficient, but a guide would be better...assuming he wasn't being guided into hostile action, anyway.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Edda - 07-15-2015

Edda considered the man’s words carefully, frowning inconsideration. I do not wish to cause trouble, he said. This came as quite a surprise, considering the great deal of trouble that lay dead behind him in the grove. He seemed rather persistent however, and his desire to travel north – for whatever reason – seemed an earnest one. The woman looked up at the sky and sighed. Though it was dark under the thick canopy of trees, the faint light of the sun could be seen past the clouds as the afternoon began to slip away. It would not do to linger here.
 
Closing her eyes, she considered his offer to fight. He seemed to have considerable skill with a blade. The simplicity of his words and apparent lack of care over taking lives could be useful. He did not seem the type to ask questions. A man of his stature would make a poor assassin, but if her feelings were true then all she would need was a sharp blade and someone to swing it – nothing more.
 
Edda snapped her head back down to give the Au Ra a steady look. “I may yet have a use for you,” she said. She pushed off from the tree and turned to face down the hill. Her ankle stung in protest but she was not unfamiliar with such pain. Looking over her shoulder, she spoke once more to the man. “This way.”
 
She did not check back to see if he followed as she made her way down the hill. There was a noticeable limp in her gait, though she suppressed it as best she could. There would be time enough to fix it later. Edda bit her lip as she hobbled down the slope, reaching out to passing trees to support her weight. As she came upon the road, she stopped to look and see if anyone was coming in either direction. The coast was clear, and she stepped into the road.
 
Fallgourd Float was not far, though it was obscured by a bend in the road. It was only a fifteen minute walk – twenty in her current condition – and doubtless the fastest way to Coerthas. But would it be the safest? Edda tried to peek her head around the bend to little avail. Attempting to traipse through Fallgourd with a feral Au Ra would be dubious at best.
 
Edda did not turn to look over her shoulder at the sound of another emerging into the road. “Beyond the bend is a small town – the fastest way across the lake,” she began. It seemed the easiest route to her, but for the now non-confrontational Xaela she was not so sure. “Follow the river southeast and the nearest crossing is in twenty malms, give or take. The choice is yours.”
 
So she said. Getting him through Fallgourd would be difficult, but not impossible, depending on how well he planned to cooperate. It was a long stretch between Fallgourd and the nearest settlement in Coerthas, and stopping for supplies sooner rather than later would be ideal. However, fighting breaking out was very much a possibility, and Edda could hardly imagine just how disastrous that would be.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Nero - 07-15-2015

The Xaela accompanied the female wordlessly as she made a vague gesture towards what seemed like an arbitrary direction. Her acquiescence sounded a tad ominous, but if this trading of services was what was required for him to achieve his objective, then it was an inconsequential detour. Kasrjin noted her injury again, and the way she hobbled on one foot and leaned on various trees as they passed by, but made no attempt to assist. It would not do to spoil his one chance of escaping this forest by committing some manner of social faux pas.

Or so he thought. It was with shocking promptness that the pair emerged from the featureless maze that had been the shrouded forest and on to a distinctly cut dirt road, with the occasional lone cobblestone poking out from beneath the soil. Had the road truly been so close to where they had been? It was no wonder that the masked warriors had appeared so suddenly, then. Kasrjin had originally believed that they simply knew the forest, and while that was perhaps true, it'd seemed that the Au Ra was but a stone's throw away from finding his way, and yet a disturbing number of suns he had spent doing naught but wandering aimlessly.

Presented thusly with the two possibilities, Kasrjin's response was almost immediate. He was not completely certain of the distance a "malm" would take, but twenty of them sounded daunting, if the female's tone was to be believed. "We may cross the town," he said bluntly, though his wording and lack of confidence in his use of language had the stern Au Ra seem like he was asking more of a question. The Xaela shrugged his shoulders briefly, tapping the handle of his sword with the back of an idle hand as if to check if his bladed passenger was still present.

Of course, a town could mean many things, not all of them positive, and yet Tsanai had been encouraging in the Au Ra learning of the western continent. If Kasrjin was to believe the female he now followed--that he may possess certain utilities she may or may not apply--then it was not completely likely that he would be attacked on sight.

Perhaps now was an opportune moment to gain some information, though the Xaela was not the best conversationalist. Should he wait? Or broach the subject now? The lecture on social conventions he'd received prior to departing for the Western continent only indicated that standard protocols for conversations were far from practical. But then, perhaps the female knew of his masked assailants. It'd been mere minutes since Kasrjin had made contact with a denizen of the western continent, and already he was baffle beyond belief, his turmoil made present by his face morphing into silent confusion, though it solidified itself into a strange expression of severity. Who were the masked ones and why was he attacked? Why had this female been venturing out?

"What should I be aware of before we enter?" he asked, his perplexity making itself known with the bluntness of the query.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Edda - 07-17-2015

The man’s decision to cross Fallgourd came as a surprise. His need to travel to Coerthas and beyond must be a pressing one, Edda thought, and she wondered what lay in such inhospitable lands that would drive him so. Turning back to look at the man, she glared at the hilt of his sword, just visible over his shoulder.
 
“Whatever you do, do not draw your sword under any circumstance.” Her gaze returned to his face, and she looked him in the eye for a short moment, allowing her words to sink in. “If it seems you are in danger, believe me, it will not be a mortal one. If – through some bizarre circumstance – violence becomes necessary, I will let you know.”
 
Edda turned and began to make her way down the road, bidding silently for the Xaela to follow. The clouds hung heavy in the sky, and the temperature began to drop quickly as a chill wind blew down from the mountains. It felt like snow. This could only be a good thing for them, with the cool temperature more likely to drive those idling outside back indoors. The Black Shroud was certainly full of strange sights, and as she understood it, had become much more open to travelers than it had in the past. Fallgourd was frequented by adventurers as well, more so than most outposts in the forest. It was a welcoming place, but the intimidating Au Ra dressed in bloodstained fur would surely be enough to set most residents on edge.
 
“Stay close to me,” she continued. She brushed some dirt off the front of her dalmatica and tightened her ponytail. “It would behoove you to not speak much – use only simple words if you must.” Edda sighed. She had an explanation for his presence prepared already, but it was complicated by the three bodies left behind in the grove. When – if – she should return, and her story was found to be a false one, it would be easy for her to claim she was held hostage. She preferred it not come to that.
 
Fallgourd Float came into view soon enough. Edda squinted ahead as she hobbled closer, and recognized the two guards at the gate. Priorfaix was an elderly Wailer, who stood guard with his son, whose name escaped her. The son was more often than not sleeping under his wooden mask, and for that she was thankful. As the two approached, she could see Priorfaix peering at the figure behind her. Forcing her limp down, she slowed her gait as they drew near to the entrance, and gave the man a small wave.
 
“Friend of yours, lass?” Edda stopped as he addressed her.She hoped her standing in front of the Xaela would be enough to hide the blood on his clothes.
 
“Not quite,” she said. She smiled at the man and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I found him wandering the forest. I agreed to show him the way to Coerthas, but we were accosted by a band of Ixal.” Her expression sobered as to fit the conversation. “This ah, man here fought them off and we managed to escape, but please do take care.”
 
Priorfaix nodded, his expression serious. He stared up at the Au Ra curiously and frowned. He did not seem very taken by him. “Aye, aye we will,” he said after a moment and nodded again. “And you as well.” Edda inclined her head in thanks, and continued into the town. She glanced over her shoulder to see she was being followed, and sighed in relief. The sound of Priofaix shouting at his son could be heard as they made their way down the wooden walkway. “You hear that, you daft boy? Ixal!”
 
As she expected, there were not many outdoors; the few that were stared at the pair as they passed. Edda did not make eye contact with any of them, as if doing so would confirm whatever suspicions they had. She hastened her pace and kept her head down, heading straight for the small stables at the entrance to town. Not wanting to deal with any more interaction, she withdrew her chocobo herself, nearly dragging the impudent creature along with her. She dared not look or inquire to the Xaela – she could scarce imagine what was going through his head. His earlier question made it seem as if he had not once stepped foot in any sort of town, and Edda doubted whatever hasty explanation she could have given him would have sufficed.
 
Making their way to the aetheryte, Edda led on to a quiet area near the water. The worse of it was now over, and she felt as if she could relax. She looked over to The Bobbing Cork just across the water, where she stayed. She would need supplies. It was not a very long journey, but a perilous one – made so by the ice and snow that had settled in the region since the Calamity. Edda turned to the man abruptly and handed him the reigns to her chocobo.
 
“Wait here,” she instructed. “There are items I must fetch –clothes and other sundries. I will return shortly.” She did not wait for a response, and made her way across the bridge and disappeared into the large building.

RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 - Nero - 07-18-2015

The Xaela tensed slightly at the presence of more masked warriors standing at the gates of the settlement. He was unconfident in the female's assurance that she would "let him know", as they had failed to agree upon any form of signal. Kasrjin made a deliberate shrugging motion with his shoulders so as loosen the sword's posture in its harness, just in case.

"Friend of yours, lass?" One of the masked warriors inquired to the pair. Kasrjin stared at him rather intensely with a piercing emerald gaze, though the complete lack of subtlety was not intentional so much as it was simply the Au Ra's way of inspecting things. Both of the warriors wore the same garb as his assailants; a curious carved mask with black markings and circular eye holes, spears tipped with bone and green leather garments.

The Xaela noted the impracticality of the mask; the circular eye holes would narrow the wearer's eyesight and deny peripheral vision. The spears were mounted on the warriors' backs with the tip pointing above their right shoulder; presumably, they armed themselves by bringing their left arms around their backs and grabbing the haft. Wouldn't they instead hold their spears in front of them or over their shoulder to bring the points to bear with greater speed and ease? The sturdy harness holding Kasrjin's blade was designed such that it would flip away from his back and flex without breaking, allowing the Au Ra to withdraw the weapon quickly with a sweeping diagonal strike despite the intimidating length of the blade. A similar concept for a spear should not have been so difficult, surely. At the least, mounting a spear upon one's back would be something that is reserved exclusively for travelling, and at a glance these idle guardians--which is what Kasrjin presumed was the role of the masked ones--likely only concerned themselves with travelling to their meals and their bed.

"Not quite," the female said in response to the masked warrior's query. She seemed to adjust her posture oddly such that she was standing in front of the Au Ra, though the top of her head barely reached up to Kasrjin's chest. "I found him wandering the forest. I agreed to show him the way to Coerthas, but we were accosted by a band of Ixal. This ah, man here fought them off and we managed to escape, but please do take care.”

These were words that the Xaela had heard before but was not overly familiar with. Coerthas was a...town? A region? Possibly the name of the mountains Kasrjin was attempting to reach, though it was equally possible that the female was simply fibbing to divert attention. He subconsciously made a small nod of approval. Though he did not know where exactly Coerthas was, doing so would misdirect any assailants in this town from pursuing them...assuming that it was not the name of the location he was attempting to reach.

As for Ixal, Kasrjin had heard the term in passing but had not yet fully worked out what its meaning was. Clearly it was the name of a group of some kind, but the nature of the group was an enigma. They were some kind of enemies of the masked ones, however, that much he could be certain of.

The Xaela sensed the glare coming from beneath one of the warrior's wooden masks and instinctively returned it with one of his own. Perhaps this was one of the odd social practices that he had been warned about. Was it intended for him to stand his ground, as one did when facing a bear? The complexities of the western continent's culture made the Au Ra slightly dizzy merely thinking about it, so he broke his gaze quickly and followed the female into the settlement.

And so it was that Kasrjin obtained his first impression of civilization on the western continent, which had been shrouded in myth and legend for so long.

His eyes swept through his surroundings, devouring as much information as they could. There were a few denizens still out and about as the chill began to take over, and Kasrjin could not help but give them his severe gaze of observation as he did before. These peoples did not carry weapons and were dressed simply. They could not have been artisans or laborers. Fishermen, perhaps? The settlement was built upon a river, so that was possible. One of Tsanai's most frequent cautions was to avoid projecting his knowledge of his own society upon the societies of others, and yet Kasrjin's mind could not help but attempt to categorize everything and everyone. The Xaela made an extra effort to look for the pointed hats that signified peoples who possessed the potential to interpret the Correspondence, but found none with a cursory inspection.

The settlement was surprisingly practical in some ways, and rather absurd in others. It was built upon a place of the river beneath waterfalls when there was serviceable, solid land adjacent to it. There were large rock formations that hung at vantage points above the town. Assailants could easily lob missiles at the denizens from above without fear of reprisal, and it seemed there were no covers or shelters to account for this. A set of planks formed a dock that lead into the river, which was itself unguarded. The current was weak, and at this location the depth was not very much either. It would have been a very simple matter for one to swim under the cover of darkness and bypass the gates and guardians.

The female's stride lead to what appeared to be a housing for animals, and she began insistently dragging a large yellow...thing out of it. Presumably it was a bird, but the wings were too short and the legs were far too long. The feathers and beak were noticeable tells but did not give Kasrjin enough information as to exactly the nature of the creature. The female pulled upon the creature's harness until they had made their wars to what was the center of the settlement.

The Xaela rotated somewhat to gain a full sense of the settlement. From this central forum area--holding an intimidating length of azure rock framed in brass that rotated upon its axis, the purpose of which Kasrjin could not discern from its appearance--there were three entryways. The bridges would make excellent choke points, and a fourth bridge extended into a large, two-story building that was presumably the center of the settlement, given its towering size over the other buildings. The large building lacked fortifications but the placement of the bridges would allow for a strong phalanx formation to defend it.

It seemed the western continent was not completely lacking in the familiar, at the least.

The female turned to face him, the first time she had done so since they had entered, and spoke sternly. “Wait here. There are items I must fetch –clothes and other sundries. I will return shortly.” With that insistence, she sauntered off.

Waiting in such an open location seemed unwise, but it was not as if Kasrjin knew better. He himself moved towards the rotating structure in order to better examine it. Some parts of it reminded him of Kaarad-El, the way that portions of the structure floated without fixtures or supports. It rotated in a curious fashion, and he reached out to touch it when a voice barked at him from behind him.

"Not from around here, I take it?"

Kasrjin rotated his head in a robotic fashion. It was a man whose appearance and clothing matched the other denizens of the settlement in genericism and therefore went undescribed by the Xaela's mind. He did not possess a weapon or a pointed hat and therefore held no bearing in one's memory.

"No," the Au Ra said in response. The man gestured to the sword upon Kasrjin's back.

"That's a mighty fine weapon. Where'd you get it?"

Kasrjin gave the man a puzzled look in the same way that one would give a look to a talking tree who suddenly asked where it was planted. "From a weaponsmith."

The two stared at each other for a time.

"You didn't mind the flowers," the man said, pointing an indignant finger. The Xaela followed where the finger was pointing to give a cursory inspection to the coloured shrubs at the base of the floating blue rock's fixture that seemed to have melted from the impact with his foot. Kasrjin was not sure what response was expected of him, so he merely stared.

This continued for a time. The man made a huff and a sigh before leaving awkwardly.

Kasrjin turned his head to poke the azure rock.

That was odd.