Quest Dispatching Kraits

[Reven]

THE CHAMBER OF PRESERVATION HEADQUARTERS​

Elbion proved a place far outside of Reven's reckoning. Now he'd of course heard of it over in the Reach, how could you not, but word of mouth, even the tallest of tales, didn't do the actual sight justice. Magic he'd not seen often in his lifetime. But in Elbion? They had floating buildings. Floating. Buildings. Hell not all of them, but even just one was one enough to give Reven some considerable pause and have him commencing to gawk at the sight. Maybe nothing yelled outlander more than that, standing in the street, staring.

But he wasn't here to spectate open displays of magic and wonder at buildings reaching for the sky. He was here for work—turning swings of his sword in the right direction into pay. And that pay was to go toward something important.

Inquiries pointed him to the "Chamber of Preservation". Fancy talk for Elbion's lawmen. They had work—plenty, and often enough, as he had been told—and they didn't disappoint. Open contract on some monsters called "kraits". Reven didn't think himself a monster hunter of any notable description, but the krait contract would do.

He stood now in the office of one Captain Gilcrest, him along with a couple others. The Captain had gone out, saying that he'd return in a moment or two, as he had a witness or something who could aid in the details of the contract. Outside the office Elbionese Marshals and guardsmen and mercenaries of both local and foreign outfits walked by the open door, spoke on their own matters, gathered and departed, and altogether busyness defined the whole of the Chamber of Preservation's Headquarters. Nervousness clawed at Reven's chest, being around the weight of all this authority, but he kept a cool head about it.

"Ain't never heard of a krait before," said Reven by way of light conversation with his soon-to-be fellows. "You boys ever see one? Kill one?"

Kaelan Pomrick Bloomsfield

 

[Kaelan]

The elf that joined the group looked rather out of place, decorated in foliage as he was. In fact, his kit didn't seem much geared towards monster hunting at all. Even so, Elbion was what had become the closest thing to home for the young elf in recent times, and he'd found that bringing down beasts in the area was keeping him fed and sheltered. It also just felt...correct.

"I...can't say I've ever heard of one, no...but my friends and I have helped take down some pretty scary things before! I'm sure we'll be fine," Kaelan replied, perhaps not perfectly convincingly, as he waited alongside the other two gents in the would-be party.

"The, um...captain is planning on telling us, right? What a krait is? Or does? Might be kind of a difficult hunt if he doesn't."

 

[Pomrick Bloomsfield]

Whereas his two companions wore sparse or simple equipment, resting somewhat comfortably in their abilities, Pomrick was all kit and little confidence.

Head: a kettle-helmet with filigree circling its rim and oversized goggles in the front that kept falling down over his eyes, and cursing intermittently, he kept pulling them back up. On his back: a stave with something like a bundled net at the end. Chest and hips: two crossing bandoliers and three belts, bedecked in cases filled with silvery vials, holstered like ammunition. Hands: dark-blue leather gauntlets with silver runes threading through them, so big they seemed to swallow his arms. And the final touch, a long, machete-like blade sheathed in a black scabbard against his thigh, in amongst pouches sprouting from his leather pants like excrescence.

Amongst all this, a pair of watery eyes blinked and swam, wild curls of red hair seeking to escape his helmet. This bondage of gear couldn't conceal the slouch in his shoulders or his awkward standing, like a wind-up toy having lost steam halfway through its calibrated gesture.

At the mention of kraits, animation sprung into his features, as if an invisible hand turned the hidden key to his back.

"I-I think so." The golden goggles flipped down over his eyes with a click, and Pomrick flustered, cranking them back up over his helmet. The more he spoke, the more conscious he became of himself and his ill-fitting apparel. "At least I only know, um, that, um, they are attracted to magic."

 

[Reven]

A vote of confidence from the elf. Well and good in Reven's book. And the elf's gear didn't much surprise him; not on account of him having some preconceived notion about elves and their gear, but because some men in his old Company of raiders preferred roughing it, making their own gear from what the land and their own two hands could fashion, and the like.

He didn't know what to make of the younger man though. Best he could reckon was that the redhead inherited a bunch of mismatching, poorly-fitted gear and decided it was good enough.

"Well shit I ain't got no magic," said Reven. "But I figure we can bait em one way or another. Wipe em out. Stab anythin enough times with some steel and it'll die. These kraits can't be no different."

He cut a glance specifically to Pomrick then and said, "Stand up straight and act like you've killed somethin before. Wouldn't want the Captain thinkin otherwise."

Kaelan Pomrick Bloomsfield

 

[Kaelan]

Kaelan regarded the young human. A quivering mess that rattled about in his armor, sounding like a vagrant playing the spoons. He was armed and armored well, but none of it fit him quite right. A hunter like Kaelan knew a prey animal when he saw one.

"Are...are you to join us on this hunt? Will you be alright?" he asked, not out of condescension, but of concern. The boy looked out of place. Ancestors, the boy would look out of place anywhere in that getup.

"In any case...I agree, Ser. If the beasts bleed, we will see them slain."

Kaelan could already feel Yoru tugging at the edges of his attention, accessing the draw, longing to get on the trail.

Not yet, friend. Soon.

 

[Pomrick Bloomsfield]

He cut a glance specifically to Pomrick then and said, "Stand up straight and act like you've killed somethin before. Wouldn't want the Captain thinkin otherwise."

Pomrick tried to stand up straight. He really did. Unfortunately, his spine didn't seem to want to cooperate in a straight line, and instead curved out his gut, making him seem near obese with his assortment of bulging equipment.

Are...are you to join us on this hunt? Will you be alright?" he asked, not out of condescension, but of concern. The boy looked out of place. Ancestors, the boy would look out of place anywhere in that getup.

"I'm. Fine." His chin was tucked so far back into his neck he brought more to mind the folded wattles a chicken than the menacing pose he attempted to strike. It caused his head to rear up weirdly, joined with his awkward 'standing straight' through line. "Yep. I have to-- I mean, I'll join. In the hunt, that is. Hunting crates."

He had no idea why or how a crate of all things could be attracted to magic, or why he needed all this gear to track down glorified boxes. Nonetheless, his master had equipped him with both this knowledge and the get-up, so no doubt there was a good reason. Or, at least, some reason.

Kaelan
Reven

 

[Zael Castomir I]

"No Anirians?"

"No Anirians," said the Captain.

"Alright. Let's go."

Zael wasn't going on this hunt himself, but, nevertheless, he didn't want to ruin a good death story or two by showing his face to some inopportune people.

 

[Reven]

The elf had his head on straight. The redhead? Well, so far as Reven knew, lots of would-be monster hunters died young or quit early. And he didn't have much reason to doubt that.

Hardly a moment later, Captain Gilcrest returned to the office, and he had another man in tow. Long blond hair, eyepatch, half-cape over his right side, and a weathered look to his face, like he'd seen the sort of things that robbed a boy of his youth.

"Apologies for the wait," the Captain said. He stood before the three of them, then swept his hand to his associate. "This is Zael. He has some...knowledge on these happenings."

"Hey there, hotshots," said Zael, his eye passing over Reven, Kaelan, and Pomrick in turn. "Looks like this problem's been goin on for a few years now."

"A few years? This ain't new?" said Reven.

Zael shook his head. "It ain't. Or, it don't seem to be. Had a big damn pack of kraits attack me and the caravan I was with those years back, and that story's been repeatin itself—different times, different people, all goin that north/south road. Awful smart for a bunch of wild monsters."

Kaelan Pomrick Bloomsfield

 

[Pomrick Bloomsfield]

Zael shook his head. "It ain't. Or, it don't seem to be. Had a big damn pack of kraits attack me and the caravan I was with those years back, and that story's been repeatin itself—different times, different people, all goin that north/south road. Awful smart for a bunch of wild monsters."

Pomrick narrowed his eyes. He worked hard to compose himself in his most stoic and serious frames. Which resulted in his nose scrunching up weirdly with his eyes, mouth puckering upward like he had misplaced something.

A pack of crates. Now that was difficult to imagine. He wondered if they had sprung alive from the caravan itself -- objects could be known to animate through magic after all -- or if they were roaming free in the wilds. Free ranging . . . crates. Hopping through the forest? This Zael spoke of them gravely, so he supposed they had to be quite mobile, more than your average glorified container. Monsters, even. Blimey. Maybe they had rusty nails for teeth.

Astra knew he had seen weirder things in Elbion College.

"So they are, um, working together, sort of?" How did that even work? Was it the biggest crate that led the pack? Or maybe the one carrying the most impressive cargo. "Is there, like, a bigger one? Bigger than the others? Some kind of, eh, crate -- alpha? Aren't they usually fitted for about the same size?"

He felt foolish even saying it out loud. But this was deadly serious business -- he could tell. Information was key. Master Krellos always said as much.

Zael Castomir I
Reven
Kaelan

 

[Kaelan]

A little twinge of concern rippled through Kaelan at the blond human's reveal, followed immediately after by a surge of protectiveness--Taiyo, reaching out through the fabric. She was always the worrier...

"I'm...a little shocked no one's been called to deal with it sooner, actually," the elf voiced his apprehension, but the alternative wasn't lost on him either. "Or...have they?"

He let the implication hang, his arms folding across his chest as he contemplated the logistics of the beasts running rampant for literal years.

"Aren't they usually fitted for the same size?"

Kaelan cocked his head to the side, the leaves among the branches woven into his hair audibly shifting.

"Are we speaking about the same thing, mageling?"

 

[Pomrick Bloomsfield]

"I think we are. Crates attracted to magic, attacking travellers on the road, right? I mean, granted, I mostly see them down the docks. The, uh, the inert ones at least. I once saw one smash down right next to a sailor, who was boarding a ship. He could have had a concussion, and that was just from a regular crate, filled to the brim with tuna!"

He sighed, shaking his head gravely.

"Trust me, I know just how dangerous they can be. And that's without the magic. If, uh, if some of these wooden terrors have sprung alive and reign havoc in Elbion . . . I shudder to think about the danger. Dockworkers won't be able to trust them with their livelihood ever again."

Kaelan
Zael Castomir I
Reven

 

[Reven]

The room—Kaelan, Reven, Zael, Gilcrest—all looked at Pomrick. A chasm filled with hard silence marked the end of his longwinded response to Kaelan.

Then Reven gruffly stepped forward and dropped a heavy hand on Pomrick's shoulder, saying sidelong to Captain Gilcrest as he did, "Gimme a moment with 'im, Cap."

And it was his intent to shove Pomrick along, to force him just outside the office, out of immediate earshot and sight. He needed to have a word with him, alright.




Pomrick Bloomsfield

 

[Pomrick Bloomsfield]

"Wha--?" Pomrick queried as he was hauled away. "What!" he cried more insistently, before the door shut and muffled his protests to the others.

He peered at Reven through his ill-fitting helmet, watery eyes goggling for purchase on the other's face.

He had a terrible feeling that he had done something wrong, but he didn't know what.

"Wha--easy, what. What is it? What did I do?"

Reven

 

[Reven]

Reven's brow immediately took to a furious slant, and he glared at the younger man in the preposterous gear. He leaned his face close to Pomrick's own to make sure he got the message loud and clear, even though he would speak in a low tone to keep this all between the two of them.

"You think this is funny? You think this is some kinda joke? I oughta slap the white offa yer teeth."

His nostrils flared and his lips curled like he suppressed some thought or urge.

"You ain't gettin me killed, but if you get that elf killed, I'm gougin out both a' yer eyes an' skullfuckin what's left. You got that? Get yer ass together or get the hell outta here. You hear me?"


Pomrick Bloomsfield

 

[Pomrick Bloomsfield]

Fear tied a knot in his throat, made him helpless in Reven's grip. Suddenly he wasn't too worried about crates anymore. Tears blinked into his eyes, both frightened and humiliated and with no immediate response.

The bigger danger than rampaging crates seemed to be staring him in the face, less than an inch away. He tried to lean back, but there was a wall gleefully keeping him from taking any distance.

"But--but I--"

He wanted to explain that he was not joking. That he was just trying to share all the information he had on magical crates. But the words refused to form; not with the threat of violence so close.
Reven

 

[Reven]

"Say it. Say 'I hear you.' Say it and mean it. Or walk. Do it now. One or the other."











Pomrick Bloomsfield

 

[Pomrick Bloomsfield]

"Uh, I uh--"

A shake shook him back to what he was supposed to say. He put his tongue in line, laboriously.

"I -- I hear you . . ?"

Reven

 

[Reven]

"You askin me? Or tellin me? Because if yer gonna say it you better goddamn mean it."











Pomrick Bloomsfield

 

[Pomrick Bloomsfield]

Pomrick swallowed, closed his eyes, prayed to Astra and tried to banish any question mark from his speech.

"I . . ?" No, no good. Try again. He cleared his cracking throat and willed it a tone deeper. Steadier. "I hear. You. I hear you."

Nothing like nodding vigorously to cement his understanding.

Reven