Open Chronicles Ever Forward; There's Always a Price to be Paid

[Nicopernicus]

Tired, dirt smudged feet trudged through the wilderness as night fell. No moon cast light this moment, the darkness enveloping the land like a blanket of snow, the air seemingly as cold. Brisk winds blew across the naked skin as the man continued on in exhaustion, hugging himself as teeth gnashed together in failed attempts at producing a bit of warmth. The earth at his feet seemed more inviting by the minute, and at sight of a gnarled tree he stooped down to rest beneath its boughs. Tucking in his feet beneath a tattered loincloth, the man sat crisscrossed, folded his arms across his chest, and leaned back against the trunk, quickly dozing off beneath the stars.

A menacing howl rang out in the distance, close at hand, which startled the naive soul to alertness. Sullen eyes peered into the void in hopes only shadows would manifest, and for a while that seemed the case. However, as time trickled ever forward, a looming mass skulked into view which he couldn't at first recognize.

Hot breath spewed clouds of condensation, barely seen save for the fact that a ringed planet now dimly lit the scene. Nicopernicus rose to his feet slowly, outstretching both arms to try and bolster his mass, thinking maybe the creature would be intimidated enough to leave. The two stood still as time trickled ever forward, man and beast at the beginning of nature's primordial dance. A step forward by the beast, followed by another, followed by two more. A lone wolf stalked Nicopernicus as prey, and it hadn't eaten in a few days. The weary traveler gritted his teeth together before the jaws opened to let out a roar of rage, the wolf answering with silent attack.

Padded paws pitterpattered across patchworks of grass, Nicopernicus spreading his legs and resting the weight of his body on the forefront of his feet to brace for impact. Just as the beast was about to pounce, now a hair length's distance from him, he threw both hands forward to catch the beast as it sprang from the earth, canines tearing into the flesh of his left shoulder. Enraged by the spilt blood, fists rained fury on the head which clamped onto him, claws tearing into his torso before Nicopernicus managed momentary freedom by dazing the predator, at the price of tearing through the tendons and dislocating the shoulder, the balled joint falling forward into his chest. Screams of rage turned to agony, as the right hand dipped a finger into the wound now dripping crimson, which the beast hungered for. Circling a moment around him, the beast lunged forward again, this moment a well timed fist halting the advance of the wolf. Another price was paid however, as splintering pain was felt in the wrist region of his right arm, Nicopernicus now realizing his earlier self given wounds were manifesting once again due to the sufficient strain placed on them. Bleak outlooks poured through his mind as thoughts of death filled his brain, Nicopernicus acutely aware of his position. The wolf staggered back from the blow, yet could also tell its prey was nearly through. The beast snarled and Nicopernicus gasped for breath as lines of blinking lights began to fill his vision. The edges of his peripheral were darkening, hopelessness and pain dragging him to the earth as he stumbled to keep foothold. Seizing the opportunity, the wolf padded forward and gave a final blood curdling snarl which signified its victory, yet as the beast was about to snap its snout down on its prey's neck, Nicopernicus' hands which now rested on the ground erupted in flame which scorched the area surrounding him, and the beast's fur as well. Lit aflame, the tail tucked wolf yelped in surprise and tried to chase off the elements that fed on the fur, to no use. The wolf let out sneezes of disappointment and ran off into the darkness, shadows fought back by the helpless animal.

Tears welled within his eyes as the nerve endings of his wounds sounded alarms within his body, the tortured man gasping for air as he ripped his loincloth off to stop the flow of blood seeping from his shoulder. Fallen to his knees, he screamed out at the Gods for mercy from whom none was to be granted. The only mercy came in the form of his abject suffering which swallowed his vision whole as shock subsided back into fatigue, the now naked man falling face forward into the ground, unconscious. Time trickled on, ever forward.

 

[Viktoriya Antonov]

Lost, that was what most would say upon seeing the red clothed women wandering through the snowy wilderness, no sense of direction in step, nor any apparent effort to select land marks to stage ones journey. No, the women just walked, anywhere, no goal in mind, just putting one foot in front of the other, still such wander was not without an end, only that is was not hers to decide when it would take place.

Call is piety or just boredom but the heretical nun wandered in the aimless manner, in an area travelers would often come face to face with hardships all in the name of the 3 supposedly evil gods of the worlds main religion. During times of great distress one failed to realize how desperate some people came, willing to do almost anything to survive and live to see the next light.

Death, it was truly an eye opener for some, even those contemplating weather life was worth living, when coming face to face with possibly demise often fought tooth and nail against it. It was just moral instinct, animal like ways overriding sound thinking all in the hopes to escape the doom befalling upon them, and in such a state those people were willing to accept even the most outlandish request.

This was her purpose to maybe fall upon such a soul and guide them back to health, to basically get a life dept from then and use such leverage to slowly convert them to her own ideals. It may have been a slow and unconventional way to spread her message, but it was oh so rewarding, not to mention fun. Combined such facts with her long life span and it was almost inconsequential to her overall goal.

Speaking of which, it seemed her goal was closer then expected, the white covered and hazy landscapes silence being suddenly interrupted by screams, combined with a bright flash just in the distance. It was too cold for someone to start a proper fire, less material to use making her immediately suspect a mage, "jack pot".

Immediately she ceased her wander, running towards the now snuffed out flames though eyes falling upon a fallen over figure in the show, ash strewn around their body which was not bare for anyone to see. "My my, this is new, now, are you dead, or still kicking"? A quick check of their neck revealed a pulse, Viktoriya not wasting any time, using her own divine flames to melt away snow and form a small cave away from the chilly atmosphere, dragging the sleeping beauty inside, laying out some spare blanks and clothes to keep him warm.

"Now, what sort of story do you have in for me when you awkaen young one, hmmmeeehehee".

Nicopernicus

 

[Nicopernicus]

It would not be until midday of the next solar cycle that Nicopernicus would awaken. His first thoughts were that he had actually died, nestled in the pile of blankets beneath cover, and his eyes would stare up at the ceiling, unsure of whether or not he actually wanted to move. When he tried, he felt the pain in his shoulder prick like thousands of needles across the skin, a heavy weight felt from the balled joint still outside its socket sprung him to immediate action. With the opposite, blood stained hand, he pulled forward on his limp arm in order to stretch it out, in hopes that it would return to its home. With no luck, he bent over and let both arms dangle, the joint teasing reunion for a few seconds before falling forward again. This time, however, he would step on the left hand and quickly move to stand up, a loud pop signifying his victory. While momentary satisfaction flooded him, it would be outweighed by the pain, and he'd grimace and give off a groan in response. At first he didn't realized he was clothed, however, as he looked down at his body to see the plain garments which adorned him, however plain still were more than he'd ever known, he looked around to study his environment, however only a dim light from the end of the cavern would grace him with sight. Confused and anxious, the naive soul didn't understand, thinking again maybe he died, and that physical form still chained you in the next life.

"I thought this to be more... Ethereal..." he muttered to himself in contemplation as the marbled face looked down at his bloodied hands. The memories of the night before were fresh and dancing in his mind too, up until the point of the final attack, his last vestige of awareness leaving him before his fiery outburst. Nicopernicus didn't understand if the Gods were giving him a break or if this were a passing joke, and became cautious when the awareness of the separate presence in the cave caused him to strain his sight in order to make out the shadow. His body set itself in a fighting stance without thought, feet setting themselves apart and the right fist raised to strike. He stepped forward slowly and cautiously until the flowing red cloth which adorned the body became more visible, and he realized a sort of healer had actually saved him from nature's due course.

In broken common tongue, he asked, "Who... Are you?" Clouded visions of the night's course gave him no answer, and so he went to the source of his resurrection. Confusion wracked his brain, "Where did you bring me?" Anyone raised to understand the dialect could tell he was unlearned, anyone of the world could see through the naivety which sprung from his being like a babe newly set in the forest, crawling won-ton-ly towards whichever being it saw, as if the knowledge of good and evil had yet to be completely formed in its mind. No, Nicopernicus acted as if an alien from another world.

 

[Viktoriya Antonov]

With the sun came a small amount of relief, but still, a bitter chill gripped the land, herself still forced to use her magic in order to stay warm. During the early morning giving up a small pray to Bel-Ayya, thanking him yet again for the powers of destructive flames and possibly leading her to a new convert. After all only the god of destruction could have been responsible for such a deadly attack.

Speaking of which the man, his wounds were of animal, that much was notable, Viktoriya having tended to the bites and cuts the best she could, bandages and healing slaves covering the once open gashes. Still a proper healer praised by Maskat or potions would be needed to bring the individual back to full health. Her method though worked for the time being, at the very least non of the wounds seemed infected.

As time ebbed away the man started to rise, slowly, muttering something in a strange language she was not familiar with, the red dressed nun just watching from the side, gauging their response. It was not uncommon for near death victims to wake up in panic or fear, once again instict taking over in the fight to stay alive.

Thankfully it seemed the man was more civil, to an extent, the initial words from his mouth being hard to understand, but never the least she got the message. With a soothing voice and calm movements she walked forward, "I am sister Antonov, a nun and follower of the Annunaki Pantheon, this nations main religion". She made sure not to specify which god she served, least the man know about the 3 considered to be 'evil' by the masses.

"As for your location, a simple ice cave not far from where you almost met the gods, lucky for you I was near, call it divine intervention, if you believe such thing exists". In all honesty she would not have been surprised if the man had been subjected to a game by the gods and left dead to see what would happen, there actions at times could be, bizarre. "Now a question for you, may I know your name and reason for being here"?

Nicopernicus

 

[Nicopernicus]

Nicopernicus shook his head in disbelief that he was even alive, much less saved by a healer whose effects ebbed what seemed like mortal wounds. He stared at the woman before him, noting her nun-like appearance yet unable to comprehend what she actually was, given his lack of world knowledge. The words she spoke were hard to understand, he had to take a moment to fully realize what she had said, yet the moment they clicked he understood her to be a sort of pious pilgrim, thinking maybe the Gods had actually heard his cries. Muttering a curse in the orcish tongue as sharp pain rattled through his chest, he sat next to her and leaned back against the cave's walls, studying the makeshift rest area with cautiousness. He had seen a few of her types before, yet they were usually passing through with official documentations, paying no heed to those of his previous status.

"I am... I've been named... Nicopernicus..." he said between ragged breaths, the patched gashes making it hard to breath, even harder to speak. He took long pauses between the phrases, yet when spoke his name contempt filled his voice, eyes narrowing in hate as he turned his gaze to the ground beneath him. "I thank you... Strange one... I thought my end... Had come..." he coughed, the taste of iron wetting his tongue and he winced. "My reasoning... It is to be free, simply..." He looked over to study her a moment, deciding to trust her with the information given that she didn't look like a slaver, and that even with his wounds if she tried anything towards him, he thought he could handle her, or die in the attempt. Death was sweeter than what he feared to return to. Pointing towards the north, he spoke the word "Molthal," unable to find the common words for I came from, and simply hoped she'd understand the gesture. He held the pointing finger out a moment longer before placing the hand on his knee, propping himself up to keep weight off his injuries.

 

[Viktoriya Antonov]

Conversation was, slow at beast, as the talked herself able to somewhat recognize the orcish tongue the being spoke. Not a language she had the chance or need to learn, those from the tribes were usually distant, outsider were not always the most welcome. It just brought more questions as to this man origins, the blonde haired women becoming more enlightened to learn from her recent rescue.

Even with the healing help one could easily see the being in pain, his movements still carrying the cringe of pain, that soreness of muscles and aching bones still lingering. Considering the extend of the wounds she wouldn't be surprised if the man felt pain for the new week. Walking closer once again she remaindered silent, listening with intend as the broken basic words reached her ears "Nicopernicus, I see, it is nice to meet you, despite present circumstances".

Her small stroll came to a stop, Viktoriya sitting down next to the wounded man, patting the still cloth covered floor, becoming him to sit back down and take it easy. "Also do not thank me to much for my deeds, as a church member helping out lost and damages soles is my duty, one that I enjoy quite a lot, but I will take the compliment never the least". Her face flashing another small smile attempting to reassure the wounded being that rested in her care.

She continued to listened, head turning as the finger pointed outwards, "Molthal, is that the name of your home"? Some research was in order, either way, with each passing second her interest only grew. "Perhaps it would be best to talk another time, when you are fully healed, tell me can you walk"? Her voice carrying hopefully tone as she stood up and helped him balance on the knee. It would be best to find a nearby settlement and rest up their, she could only do so much here... that and neither of them had any food.

 

[Nicopernicus]

"Molthal no home." he said in broken common, as if the vowels were difficult to pronounce. He understood the words 'can' and 'walk,' thinking for a moment before nodding to her, seeing she'd had the urge to leave. He didn't have any real idea on what to do, so resigned to her decisions seeing that she'd been trustworthy thus far. He grimaced at moving, yet knew that if he were to survive he would best be in company, so followed her actions to stand, draping his good arm over her shoulder to balance himself. He gestured back at the items strewn about the cave, asking, "Leave?"

He had never known the feeling of ownership over articles, feeling that for the first time in awaking in actual clothes. He was awestruck at the idea that now he may finally hold something of his own in his possession, and was genuinely confused by the woman's promptness in leaving without packing up. He didn't know who would meaningfully waste materials, when he saw them as something hard to come by. It seemed rash to him, his face scrunching in thought of such actions, mentally practicing pure thought as he stared off into space.

 

[Viktoriya Antonov]

"... perhaps it would be best to talk elsewhere", she wasn't fully understanding what Molthal meant, for now just focusing on getting the still injured man to a relatively safe area. She recalled passing a village not long ago before coming here, no doubt the local church would be willing to help a 'fellow' nun and wounded being. Slowly her charge rose, though not before pointing out the small bed like arrangement she had made with spar cloth. "It is fine, I had to rip a lot of them to make your bandages, they are of no use, nor is leaving them hear a problem, I'd much rather see you safely back to civilization".

Perhaps clothing was more valued where he came from, but to Vicktorya such items were just temporary materials possessions, she outlived many a past attire, a few shirts were of no real lose to her. "Now, let us hurry, before the winter chill grips again, or another beast makes their way near". As fast but comfortably as she could the red drabbed women slowly lead the being called Nicopernicus from the ice shelter, tracking through the snowy fields towards the nearby fishing village.