Private Tales Foreign Shores

[Garrett]

Within Blackwatch Keep, home of the Stalkers of Liadain

"This matter presents a line of questions that we have exactly zero answers to, Garrett." Merod had told him. "I know it is far, but there are few I trust with this assignment. I've already informed the other stalkers that will be accompanying you, no more than five."

His voice was completely lacking in sympathy or care, save for an understanding on how taxing a long journey at sea would be. Merod was roughly two decades ahead of Garrett in terms of experience, and the man was not going to take no for an answer. He had worn what all stalkers did when they returned to their island home of Blackwatch; a flaxen tunic decorated with a striped shoulder cape and golden embroidery. Every black stripe in the fabric indicated the number of years spent on Liadain, and Merod had sported more than twenty spent hunting the magics and arcanes of the continent.

He had turned away from Garrett and stood before the glass pane of what must've been a century old window. His eyes gazed out into the sea, its natural movements a dance with the moonlight. "After your business with the Dawnbringer, the Gryphon you reported on east of Elbion, there are no other stalkers more equipped to handle this than you."

Garrett let out a long long sigh and ran his gloved hand down his face. Merod was his teacher, his mentor, the man who had trained him since the very first day he stepped through the daunting gates of Blackwatch. This meant their relationship was tied with the strongest bands of respect and camaraderie. He loved the man, but to do this?

"Merod... we do not operate outside of Liadain... it's not our duty I --" Garrett was abruptly cut off.

"Do you really believe that, Garrett? That we never once explored elsewhere to see to it Arethil is safe? There are magics far worse than you have ever experienced elsewhere in the world than on Liadain, stalker. I would remind you of that." Merod had gone from reserved to agitated in seconds.

"I will see that the job is done, Merod," the blonde haired giant mumbled. "For the preservation of safety, and the good of our order." Garrett sounded as though he was conditioned to say that. He did not want to go. It was hard enough to survive on Liadain, but to start all over once again? The man was reminded of his younger years.

He had just turned thirty in the passing of last month, and with a new decade seemed to come new challenges.

Merod huffed, "Garrett... all you need to do is find the so-called 'demons', find the woman who is said to accompany them, and report back here."

If only it would be that simple.

 

[Vesper]

​

Somewhere deep in the Ixchel Wilds...

The river burbled quietly along through the jungle, weaving its way through the dense cluster of trees in a meandering path towards the delta further south. Perched on a massive gnarled root that jutted out past the river bank and reached partially across the water below; was a young human woman. Her feet dangled over the edge of the broad root, idly kicking back and forth, as she nibbled on her breakfast. Every so often she would pause and lean forward drop a few crumbs into the water below. Fish would flail at the surface of the water, splashing frantically as they snatched up the crumbs in the water.

She giggled quietly at the scene, tossing another few crumbs down in hopes that some of the poor fish that missed out might get lucky and snag something a second time around.

Her red hair was set ablaze in the soft morning lift that could actually reach the ground level here, thanks to the river carving a hole through the thick canopy of trees. She loved the feel of the warm sunlight on her skin, the sliver of bright blue sky arcing over her head.

Curled up on either side of her, were her two ryunochs. Both scaled creatures were basking in the sunlight, lounging around after having finished their own morning meal. The were fairly large beasts, each one standing roughly two feet taller at the shoulder than her.

At the sound of her laughter, one of the beasts peeked open a vibrant golden eye with a slender slit for a pupil; and a chittering growl emanated from its throat.

"Oh be quiet, Sjorn. I already fed you." She retorted with a soft chuckle, as if the creature had actually said something to her.

Dusting off the rest of the crumbs from her hands, she stood up and stretched her hands over her head with a small squeak as her spine cracked. "Alright boys. Daylight's burning."

She reached down to pick her bow and slung it diagonally across her back. Once she made it clear that she was preparing to leave, both of the ryunochs pushed themselves onto their feet. Massive curved talons digging into the wooden surface for purchase.

The trio carefully ventured back to the bank of the river, and Vesper pulled herself up into the simple saddle that was on Sjorn, the larger of the two ryunochs. With a rumbling the hiss, the beast shook his head once she was situated.

Moments later, the red head and her two beasts had vanished into the lush underbrush and silence fell over the jungle once more.

 

[Garrett]

​

On the shores of the Iuk-'u Delta.

Something inviting always emanated in the soft drag of a wooden hull against yet another sandy beachhead. Garrett had heard sounds of its origin a thousand times over, as had the stalkers who had come with him. The end of their long journey at sea had finally dawned, and with it they bid farewell to their merchant seafarers and sailed a small distance within a rowing boat.

Each of the stalkers sent had a particular quality that would help sustain the group until they returned home to Liadain. This foreign incursion likely wouldn't be a trivial matter, so Merod had not hesitated to send only the most experienced he could spare. The first to clamber out of the wooden boat was a lithe elf male by the name of Sythaeryn, or Aeryn, for short. And in a stark contrast to that shortness, he was the tallest of those sent.

Somehow, by the grace of his species or some other means, he stood a full head above Garrett. He had been selected to join the company sailing east for his talented knowledge regarding ancient creatures and magical spawns. Aeryn was that unique catch however; that elf one managed to meet still yet to experience a century of life. His pale skin shown the youth of a newborn child, Aeryn only priding twenty-seven years. Most of those years had been spent alongside the scholars of Elbion studying and learning at the request of the Stalkers of Liadain.

Considering the lifespan of most elves, Aeryn was to become the new scholar of Blackwatch. Had he spent all his years hunting, he might be one of the most decorated of stalkers. Alas, he had a millennium ahead of him for that.

Soon to follow the graceful elf was a brutish Orc combatant. If Aeryn had not already established a brisk foothold, Traugh would. When he had relieved the craft he arrived in of his weight, the entire thing threatened to flip over on the shore. What could be worse than stalkers in foreign lands? Stalkers stumbling over one another on foreign lands.

His skin was an oddly vibrant green, one that matched the fauna of this new environment. The reason he had been sent was not much of a mystery to anyone seeing as he was the fiercest warrior the stalkers currently had on offer. Traugh was a toned monster of ferocity and fortitude. When he had first arrived in Blackwatch, the pup gave even young Merod a run for his worth in coin. He would play a vital role in survival in hostile lands.

The remaining four stalkers were all human males, such including none other than Garrett. As for the other three humans, they had actually all been brothers born in a port village west of Vel Anir. The oldest of the trio was Waylon, a charming lad with roughly five years of hunting under his belt. His two younger brothers, Brohn, and the youngest Hip, both had no more than three total years of hunting. When their father had died a stalker, they wanted to follow in his footsteps.

Merod would have been a fool to deny three willing recruits. This mission would likely hone their skills and more quickly bring them into their stalker heritage. But what had made Garrett so special? Was it simply the gryphon or something more?

"Traugh, help the brothers get our boat silted on shore." The large man barked roughly. "Aeryn," he continued, "Come with me."

Garrett stepped out onto the beach, his feet coming down unevenly in the shapeless grains. He hated sand. Hated the way you could never run your fastest or stand your tallest. It was such that made him want to put the landing sequence behind him as quickly as possible, a hasty break being made for the thin jungle ahead.

Aeryn chuckled shortly, knowing full well that Garrett had sought to distance himself from the land in which he marched through. There was care about him when he dropped to a knee and ran his fingers through the sand. Even if his friend had not, he did enjoy the softness of the tiny particles.

His eyes were trained on the flow of sand draining between his lengthy fingers. It was almost as though this would be a calm before the storm. "Very well."

 

[Vesper]

Spoiler: Schildroch

For the past three days, Vesper and her two duivelochs, Sjorn and Espen, had been tracking a small herd of herbivorous schildrochs. Though the creatures were fairly squat by Ixchel Wild's standards, they were covered in a thick layer of natural armor plating, and barbed spikes; which made taking the beasts down a rather precarious undertaking. Not to mention their rather foul temper and the heavy clubbed tail that could easily shatter bone if it connected with a careless human.

This all meant that Vesper was intentionally keeping her distance for the time being. She could have easily overtaken the herd in a matter of hours, the Duivelochs capable of tremendous speeds through the dense jungle; but she wanted to be cautious. Best to keep the herd on the move for a few more days, and on the alert. Eventually, one of the older or more sickly beasts would tire and they would be able to pick it off without too much risk of injury.

Espen was growing restless.

The bluish duiveloch sniffing the air excitedly and chittering a melodic growl as they closed on the herd. She could feel Sjorn's excitement as they grew closer. They couldn't be far now.

Vesper leaned forward in the saddle and reached an arm out to press her hand against the side of Sjorn's neck. She closed her eyes and focused her energy, pulling on the inherent magic that coursed through her veins, that flowed through all of her kinsmen.

Ixielroem. Or Soul Merge, in the common tongue.

A familiar warmth spread from her fingers, up her arm, and through her body. As passed through her throat, she felt her voice fade away into nothingness, and something else took its place. Her mind was filled with two different consciences, that were very much not human... and yet, they were as familiar to her as kin: Espen and Sjorn.

There were no words, at least, not in the usual sense of the meaning. Instead, she could feel their thoughts and emotions; she could understand them, and in turn, they could understand her.

They didn't communicate through words, more that they shared thoughts.

Vesper opened her eyes. They now matched Sjorn's golden orbs with dark slits for pupils, and the whites of her eyes were gone. She pulled on the reins, tugging Sjorn's head slightly to the side to slow the beast while at the same time asking him to slow down through their connection.

The duivelochs eased their mad pace to a strutting walk just as they crested the ridge. Down below in the gully was the herd of schildrochs. Most of them were already partially across another river, indicating to Vesper that they had ventured closer to the Delta than she had originally thought.

There was one sow that had fallen behind, exhausted from the days long chase through the forest. Her legs struggled to lift her weight through the churned mud of the riverbank.

Espen growled with delight, his thoughts reaching out to Vesper. Its trapped. Easy prey. Can't fight back.

Sjorn clicked his sharp teeth together, seemingly in agreement with his brother.

The rider slid out of the saddle and pulled the bow from her back, notching an arrow on the string. She gave a small nod of her head, signalling for the for duivelochs to move.

The hunt was on.

 

[Garrett]

"Is it really so wise, Ser Garrett, that we continue?" Aeryn asked in that heightened tone. He really couldn't help the way he sounded. Pompous. He was always right.

The Stalkers of Liadain were wading their way through a dense jungle, each of them sweating and completely exhausted. Alas, their fissure and pools for continuing on even in these conditions never ran dry. They swore an oath for this, and it was to be their lives until the day they died.

Garrett spat a collection of mucus out into a patch of dirt and stepped over a withering log. "Call me Ser again and I'll whip you, elf." He had said gruffly.

He wasn't kidding. Though, Aeryn knew this and stepped no further into teasing and banter with the man who could easily kill him with his bare hands. Traugh now laughed deeply as he brought up the rear, slapping his hand down hard on the small plate pauldron Aeryn wore to protect his swordarm.

"Bahahah! You two are like pups fighting for your mother's tit!" The orc scratched his thick beard. "Aeryn is right though, Garrett. It is time to stop."

Waylon chimed in, "Yeah... we really shouldn't continue through the night. Not like this." His brothers nodded silently with their approval.

Stopping, Garrett exhaled through his nose. It was now that the land he trudged through became clear. The sun was long since setting, leaving an orange light to the world before a darkness would soon envelope the world. Whether this was to be a moonless night was yet to be seen, but at least the stars were never too far.

"...Very well. We will stop. Try and set up camp here, Hip, we'll use what little light is left to scout and get some proper wood for the fire." He waved his large hand and the group scattered to fulfill their responsibilities.

Traugh shouldered a large bag of camping equipment quite easily due to his unmatched strength, tossing said sack down and beginning to rummage through it. Waylon took to his side. Aeryn and Brohn were instead trying to stomp out a fireplace in the moist earth. They would likely need a few good rocks for the fire as well, and something to keep it burning.

As for Garret and Hip, they stepped off into the growing night.

"Do you think we will find her soon?" The youthful hunter asked, doe-like eyes looking up towards Garrett. How did a lad so innocent end up with the Stalkers of Liadain?

Both men rounded a small carcass, paying little mind to it. They were more obliged to focus on the pile of shit. Neither wanted to step in it.

In a much deeper and beleaguered tone of voice, Garret answered, "Aye. We will. Eventually."

Hip was hesitant to reply, crossing his arms lightly over his chest and glancing around as Garrett handled his ax to chop at a log. "What about her beasts?"

"...Aye. I've a feeling we'll find them too... sort of our mission, no?"

Chop!