Open Chronicles Atlia Calls for Aid [Noct Yaegir]

[Castro Keane]

A man walked up to them and rather confidently announced that he was here to join the hunt. That was all well and good, so Castro chose not to embarrass him needlessly by pointing out that he was in fact nobody of importance. Actually, of the nobodies of importance as far as rank was concerned, he was probably pretty low on that list too.

“The more the merrier. From the looks of it, this quest is a big one.” he replied, looking over the new arrival. The first thing that caught the monk’s attention was the man’s remarkably white hair, and then his pointed ears. An elf, this fellow was. He was about as well prepared as Castro himself and Uhtred, and his posture hinted a wealth of experience.

Turning away, He watched as Warden Ciradyl spoke, eyes widening a little at the mention of wyverns. Nasty creatures, them. A draconic creature the size of a horse or bigger, the few encounters he had heard of from other hunters sounded like no walk in the park. Young ones, such as those they tasked to find, were rumored to be more dangerous than the elders.

He waited as others were split into teams and felt a bit of relief when Uhtred offered to pair with him. He had not been expressly mentioned by the Warden and was thus unsure how to search for an ally. “Alright. Fine by me, friend. Wait, what?” he said, looking over to the wolf. Just then he heard a small chime in their direction, a look of understanding crossing his features. “Hm. Neat.” He said, yawning a little.

He did not work with much gear, just his monster hunting garb and staff as well as whatever happened to be in his pack at the time, so he was good to go. “Is there anything either of you need before we leave, or shall we simply pick a direction and begin our journey?” He asked, looking over both the direwolf and Uhtred.

Sigrith

 

[Sigrith]

"Just our heading..." Uhtred replied as he waited for the Warden to look their way. But it was not the Warden who provided - instead the Yaegir called Bolton strode over to them, his own armor still stinking of the blood and viscera of his fallen quarry.

"You lot will be right for findin' the nest and the mated pair that made these monsters," he gestured for them to gather around a nearby open table and laid out a folded parchment map of the region. Denoted upon it were the major and minor towns and cities, bodies of water, mountains, portal stone, and other various landmarks.

Darkstride turned to join them, her own immense size allowing her to view the map without any trouble. It was good to get a view of the lands, for she was far less familiar with the Allir Reach than she was with the region of the Spine.

"There've been reports of dragons to the north," Bolton pressed a ruddy finger to the map and a smaller chain of mountains not but a few days ride from Atlia, "in this area. Now I know for a fact there be no dragons in those mountains - they're not big enough to sustain them. But two adult wyverns?" the man nodded, "It would do for them."

"You can't expect us to kill them with just the three...?" Uhtred replied, his youth showing through his concern for the thought.

"Ney lad. We just want you to locate the nest and the parents. Obviously if you get an opportunity to take them down, by all means ... but once the juvies have been handled we'll be sending everyone up to assist. I figure Darkstride's nose aughta track em real easy-like."

The wolf snorted.

"Ye still got that three-eyed raven o' yours, wolf?"

"She does," Uhtred responded for her, "we'll send word once we've located the nest."

"Good," said Bolton, clapping Castro Keane on the back, "ye can keep the map. Happy tracking, ehehehe."

"Right..." Uhtred watched the man walk off, noticing a limp to his gait and a particularly bloody patch of medical gauze wrapped around his right knee. He frowned and stifled a hard swallow, "that's us sorted then. I'll need to load up on arrows. Got yourself a horse, brother? There's probably some free at the stable."

 

[Sagarus]

Before he could stop it, he scoffed, short and sharp. "Yes... 'scented soap.'" It may as well be mockery though he knew full well it was usually the utter lack of intonation that created that perception rather than word choice. This, though, leaned into both. Monroe seemed up for the task.

"I will find a wagon and horse."

While she worked her way to a table of assorted gear, he went outside to a stable where there were a few horses and wagons for transportation stashed around. None were high quality, but they didn't need to be. They wouldn't fall to pieces and they'd get you where you were going. Good enough for him.

Walking around the draft beast to verify the harness was secure, he climbed aboard and let the cart creak it's way around to the front of the keep where he would wait with the patience of a lone, starved wolf waiting on a bear to finish with a carcass.

Her gear was more than he'd anticipated, but the falcon was entirely unexpected. "Make sure we get paid for three hunters." His only concession to manners was extending a hand over to help hoist her into the seat that, with his armor and her weapons, would get quite cramped.

Broad shoulders and bad manners did not an enjoyable ride make. "Maybe Delgada will have soap for you."

 

[Aderyn Verchtegid]

"Unsightly and unworldly? Unfortunately, yes, and it's not a memory I'd particularly like to revisit. I'm not a fan of harming things, and I'm even less a fan of being covered in ichor I've beat out of something. Been in a good share of barfights, too, and I haven't died yet."

Aderyn rubbed absently at one of the crystals around her neck. There was no need to make use of any kind of power but the memory of that godsawful night tugged at her, telling her she wasn't safe and never would be.

"I wouldn't call a wyvern either of those things, though. Very much of this world and beautiful creatures in their own right. It's unfortunate that we find the same places to be habitable. I can help you if needed... I just would prefer not to. If you feel safer with another hunter, then I shan't complain."

She hoped to make him feel more comfortable with the thought of her accompanying him, though he certainly did not look like she could do much to convince him without trying to manipulate him magically. She didn't know him well enough to assume that would be safe, but yet he was more than a simple passerby. He was in that uncomfortable between space where anything she could do might easily have grave consequences.

Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Monroe]

Monroe didn't have the heart to tell the man he had picked a shitbox, especially not after he offered a hand to help her up to sit beside him. Pleasantries and manners, things she could have ignored, but she felt as if this were a test and that Cira would be waiting to hear a report on Monroe's people skills.

"The falcon comes and goes. It is a manifestation of guidance of a Saint I pray to." The falcon was an interesting topic enough that she felt obliged to share. "Always got to have something to fight for." She said, squirming in her seat to find a somewhat comfortable position seated next to his armoured self.

Monroe arched a brow. "Nice suit." She hadn't ever worn one, or had the desire to own one. Cathmore liked being free and lithe, able to move quickly and hoped that she was quicker than a felling blade against her. "Odd, actually." She admitted without tact. "Especially to go after creatures."

Sagarus

 

[Sagarus]

"Ah." Manifestations were certainly within his purview, given his extension study as a conjurer. Part of him immediately wondered if this particular Saint would only respond to faith or if there were other ways to cajole it into offering up a small fraction of its power and attention.

Yet, as soon as though was formed he dissipated it as though waving his hand through a brief upswell of steam.

Settling into the comfort of a hard oak benchseat and the creak and sway of a wagon, he let the packbeast pull them out of the keep before guiding it towards the nearby traderoad. From there they could head south along the coast and pick up the scent.

"Perhaps for you." A wry retort. Lifting a hand from the reins to scratch his chin and the grey flecked stubble on it, he kept his eyes roaming the forward arc of his vision. "Did you attempt to bring this falcon into being or does it just appear."

Perhaps both himself and Monroe could learn something from this besides how to kill a scaleback.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Erën remained silent for a moment after Emmeline spoke to him. He didn't even seem to regard her at all, at least not for a moment. Instead, his eyes tracked across the surround, gauging what it was the others were doing. They were grouping up, and that left he and Emmeline.

He cast her a glance, one of his brows tilting some. He perceived a great gap between them, likely not only in age. Of course, her words had revealed as much. Her experience with wyverns was obviously little. His, however...

He approached the remains of the wyvern and knelt by it, examining it rather passively.

"Two swords are better than one. A shield could help for a time, but soon become cumbersome. The strength of little ones such as these is manageable, but you are right in where you place your concern." he stood back up, and turned back to her, "they can at times seem to move faster than most can catch with their eye."

He looked around once more, and then his eyes fell to her, "lets find out where we're going. I am ready at any time."

Looking at her now, he became curious as to what would possess someone like her to wield such an ungodly large weapon. But then, thinking back, she wouldn't be the first in his experience to do so. And with any luck, like those who had come before, she would do so well. A good, honest strike could very well bring their journey to a quick end.