Private Tales On The Road

[Thren]

Alliria - Outskirts

Thren sat quietly on the edge of a cart, his heavy armor resting on his shoulders, the two daggers he carried settled into place on the small of his back. Half a dozen men and women scrambled all around him, some of them loading crates, others busying themselves with one task or another.

The Barbarian watched all of them quietly, eating an apple and waiting for everyone to be finished with their tasks.

After the recent Naga attack and reports of bandits people, especially merchants, had become more than a little paranoid. It was a fortuitous thing for people like him. Every Caravan, every ship, and every traveler now hired a Sell-Sword to travel alongside them.

That was of course why he was here now.

A local Merchant was sending some of his goods to Vel Anir over land, traveling just above the Falwood and below the Steppe.

Thren had never particularly liked the Falwood. Dense forest and Trees made him paranoid about ambushes, but the Merchant paid well and he was one of four mercenaries that had been hired. He figured the paranoia was worth a bag of gold, and at the very least he would get a chance to get more work in Vel Anir.

The crazy nobles there always had someone to kill.

A yawn passed his lips as he leaned back, the caravan workers loading the last of the supplies onto the carts as he finished his apple. It was time to go.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard whistled cheerfully to himself, swinging his sword around him in lazy circles as he watched one girl in particular bustle about. The sword was questionably long and undoubtedly heavy, every inch of it covered in embellishments and etching. It was gaudy to say the least, with a pommel set with gems of varying colors. How such a kid, for he barely passed for his age of 19, came across such a sword was beyond anyone's guess. But he kept it out, clearly prideful of it and eager for the young maiden's attention.

She looked his way. He winked. She made a face.

He snorted and shook it off, knowing he had plenty of time to woo her! By the end of this trip, she'd be at his feet. Just watch.

He walked off with his chin held high, whistling with renewed enthusiasm as he went.

It didn't take him long to spot another mercenary, he had been told there were others hired as well. He strutted over and sat down on the edge of the carriage besides the beef of the man Then. Bernard looked laughably small besides Thren, even in his full gear, but he didn't seem to notice, his demeanor unchanging as he laid his sword across his knees. Out in the open. For everyone to appreciate.

"Hey," he jerked his chin in what was meant to casual indifference. "You a merchant, then?"

 

[Thren]

Thren glanced at the young man, then slowly his eyes drew over to the oversized sword that he'd placed in his lap. A small glint of amusement crossed his features, a hand rising up to scratch at his beard.

"You could say that." The older man said, his voice clearly trying to hide no small amount of amusement. Thren wondered if the boy was going to end up falling over the first time he actually attempted to use that sword. The very idea of it made him want to break out into uproarious laughter.

Still, he tried to be nice. No point in antagonizing people he was going to be on the road with for the next few weeks.

"That's a nice sword." The Barbarian commented. "Did you get it from your father?"

Thren could only assume that the weapon had originally belonged to a much larger man. The blades size called for someone who stood at least a span taller than this little runt. He simply couldn't see Bernard actually being able to use it.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard snorted in indignation. "No. I made it myself. With my own two hands! It doesn't look that old, does it? It's fresh off the forge." He spat on the blade and rubbed the edge of his sleeve over the metal in a pointless attempt to buff it. It was already gleaming. Seriously.

He missed the insinuation entirely, frowning down at the metal and the flaws only his trained eye could catch. He slid it back into the sheath, a slight self-conscious blush to his cheeks.

"'Just needs another round of polish. I'll show you later, good as new. Dust on the road, brutal on gear." But his gear looked barely worn-- no dinks and clearly showing Thren's reflection. Bernard rubbed the back of his neck, changing the topic before Thren could even get a word out. "Name's Bernard. Yours?"

 

[Thren]

"Ah." The noise was all that came from his lips as Bernard launched into an explanation of his blade. He wanted to laugh again, but somehow the boys answer only made him feel slightly sad.

Perhaps because he figured the lad would die with the first group of bandits they met on the road, shame.

"Thren." The Barbarian answered, tossing the core of his apple off the side of the road and into a nearby ditch. The Caravan around them was finally finished packing up, and one of the Merchants motioned to the two mercenaries in signal. "This your first job?"

The boy was young, that much was clear, and he doubted that Bernard had much experience when it came to...anything.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard watched the apple roll off, then looked back to Thren. He hesitated in answering, Thren's questions cutting right to the quick of things.

"No," he lied. "I've been on plenty. Like twenty." He kicked up his knee, resting his arm on it on it and raising a brow at Thren. "....You?"

The cart jerked as the mules kicked up and started forward. Bernard yelped, his balance lost from the knee he had kicked up, and fell right off the cart as it started off without him.

Oh.

He sputtered, his armor clanking as he pushed himself up and ducked out from under another animal's path. His face was a brillant red by the time he managed a jog back to the cart, bruised and a bit rattled. Getting back on it, ah, with armor, while moving ...

Well, attempts were made.

 

[Thren]

"Uh huh." Thren said as he saw the boy suddenly fall off the cart and land almost directly on his face.

This time he couldn't help but laugh. A boisterous thunder echoed from his lips, hand coming to his stomach as he tried his best to contain himself. The Barbarian half buckled over, catching himself from falling after Bernard with his other hand as he closed his eyes.

After a second he opened them, looking up to see the boy chasing after the cart. His armor rattled, his face was as pink as a Dragon's ass, and his expression told that he knew it. Thren laughed harder, his face turning a bright red as he struggled to breath.

Only after a solid minute of this did Thren manage to calm himself.

"Lad." The Barbarian said as he extended a hand to offer some existence. "Relax."

He was still pretty sure that the boy was going to die, but the least he could do was help him out a little bit. "Everyone has to start somewhere."

Even if it was with a stupidly big sword.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard took the hand, managing only then to make a not so graceful climb back into the cart. He panted, dust sticking to his sweat. His armor looked that much less shiny now. He could pass for mission 2, maybe even 3! He groaned and pushed himself up, face down in a sack of goods. "Use to- riding- in front," he explained away, trying to right his armor. Oi, that hurt more than it looked!

He shot Thren an accusatory glance. "Wasn't funny!" He shoved at Thren's arm, but only succeeded in pushing himself back. He huffed at him in annoyance!

"But- uh. No one- no one saw that, right?" He blew his hair out of his face, scanning the carts around them to make sure The Girl hadn't seen. Newp! In the clear. He was able to relax slightly then, rubbing at his face and groaning in embarrassment.

 

[Thren]

Thren wondered if he had ever been like this boy, though quickly realized that their upbringing had likely been wildly different. If he ever acted like this his tribe likely would have slit this throat. "Everyone saw it."

The Barbarian stated plainly, glancing at some of the workmen who had clearly just been laughing just a second ago and were trying hard not to look now.

Inwardly he was glad they weren't heading towards the east. If they ran into any Naga they would likely have ended up slaughtered. The route to Vel Anir was a bit safer. Bandits still plagued the area, but no elves from the Falwood would bother them and he doubted any of the nomads from the Steppe would come down either.

Hopefully the journey would be relatively safe.

"I wouldn't worry about it." He said truthfully. "There's other things to be concerned with."

Just as he finished speaking a loud "bark" echoed from one of the nearby ditches. From it bounded Larik, Thren's warhound. The dog ran in leaping bounces, half covered in mud and panting happily as he surged toward's his master.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard rubbed at the dust smeared across his breast plate, the furrow in his brows stating he was clearly still worrying about it. He said nothing on it, though, eager to let the incident fade away. What a wretched way to start off his first adventure. No wait. That wasn't the start. This was the start-- the moment he first got on the moving cart. Yeah. It was going great so far, nothing to-

He blinked hard at the bark, reeling back and bracing for the barreling pile of fur and mud coming their way. "Aaarg~!" He managed, clearing some space for the reunion. "What the hell is that thing?" It was a dog, clearly. But a bigger one than he had ever seen. Weren't they suppose to be tiny and fluffy? Or lean and viscous? This one was just .... a boulder. A boulder of a dog. The rich woman of Alliria could not carry it in their arms.

He kept his distance, eyeing it warily. "Damn, it could eat a person."

 

[Thren]

Larik placed himself on the back of the cart, sitting on what appeared to be a stack of boxes with some silks inside. Thren eyed him for a moment, patted him on the head and then turned his attention back to Bernard.

"This is Larik." The Barbarian sounded more than a little proud. Among the Siruk, his people, warriors often chose a companion. Most picked hawks, falcons, or other birds. They were good scouts, and made for even better messengers when really needed. Thren however had chosen a Hound.

More than once Larik had saved his life, his furry companion being as effective in battle as a Knight in full armor.

"He's a Sindari Warhound." Thren scratched the beasts chin, grinning slightly. "Bred for eating people."

Not quite, but close enough.

The Sindari were a tribe of nomads who lived in the Eretejva Tundra. They were a hardy people, and their Hounds were used for hunting seals and whales. Thren had traded with them for Larik when the dog had been just a pup, and the two had been together for nearly a decade now.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard was quickly warming up to the beast as the beast proved sociable enough to not, in fact, eat him. A slow, appreciative grin spread across his face. He let out a low whistle. "He's a beauty." He reached out a hand, scratching at the dog's ears with no hesitation now.

"A dirty beauty, but a beast of thing. Where do you come from?" He asked, patting Larik heartily one last time before giving Thren a once-over. "Vel Anir? No! Bhathairk?" He grabbed a handkerchief out of his pack and cleaned the mud off his hands before it could get about dirtying his gear.

 

[Thren]

He perked an eyebrow at the lad, but didn't say anything about the aversion to dirt.

Thren wondered if the boy even realized that he'd essentially signed up for a journey that was nothing but mud and dirt. The rainy season was about to hit, and although The Barbarian wasn't much of an educated man he knew that things would get rather rough before they made it to Vel Anir.

"The Spine." It was a rather vague description given that the Spine spanned almost an entire continent, but his people were nomadic in nature.

His entire life had been spent traveling from one place or another. That was simply their way, constantly moving and practicing. He couldn't remember staying in one place for more than a month as a child, less so as he grew.

"I am of the Siruk." A tribe that had mostly gone extinct now. "We do not stay in any one place for too long."

 

[Bernard]

Bernard nodded as if that made perfect sense. To him The Spine meant nothing. It could have been a village, or island for all he knew.

"I've never left Alliria," he admitted, tucking away his handkerchief and looking longingly through the trees they passed through. He had been dreaming about this moment for the better part of his life, and here it was. "Well," he grinned, looking up at Thren. "Until now." Eager excitement lit up his eyes.

"What is it like out there? Do you think we'll get into any battles? I've been dying to test out Lily here," he patted his unfortunate sword. "I bet I could take on--... three," he nodded confidently. "All at once. It'll be great," he breathed, his gaze going distant as he was clearly caught up in these dreams.

 

[Thren]

Oh god the idiot named his sword Thren thought to himself, fighting the urge to rub his face with his hands in exasperation. Who the fuck did the hiring for this trip?

It was a question that he would ask one of the merchants later, if only he could beat the man to death for being such a fool. Nevertheless he took a breath, deciding that it would be best not to scream at the boy for being an idiot.

"Maybe." Thren admitted as he ran a hand through his hair.

Larik sat behind the two men, happily panting and watching as the rolling plains just outside of Allira rolled by them. It would take a day or two before they reach the Fal-Road, the length of highway that ran just over the Falwood.

"Bandits are common enough now." The Barbarian admitted. "But they might prefer easier prey."

 

[Bernard]

Bernard leaned back, growing comfortable in his spot on the back of that wagon. Everything still felt very unreal to him. He resisted the urge to shake or bounce with excitement, but it bubbled so strongly up inside his stomach, it took everything he had to play it cool.

He puffed out his chest a little. "Which isn't us, right? That's why they hired us," he said assuredly, a little cocky in the way he grinned. He patted Larik on the muzzle, then wiped off his hands and sat for a moment, content to watch it all pass by.

"You know, if any of your gear needs to be patched up along the way-- I can do it. 'Pretty good at that stuff. Can, you know, even add some embellishments on if you'd like. For a little coin." He glanced over at Thren, trying to discern his weapons on him. "Where... is your sword, by the way?" He asked, eyeing the smaller knives crossed over his back. That couldn't be all he used.

 

[Thren]

Thren was now entirely positive that this boy would die. In fact, he wondered if the other mercenary with them would be willing to place a wager on it.

Dismissing the thought for the time being, The Barbarian returned his attention back to Bernard. "I don't use a sword."

The weapons were actually quite rare among his people. Most of them preferred to use axes, warhammers, bows, or like him; daggers. Swords were the weapons of nobles, and in truth far from the most effective thing to carry into a battle. They also did not mesh well with the more brutal style of fighting his tribe tended to.

Nor the magic they used.

"You're a blacksmith then?" He'd thought the boy had simply been boasting earlier, perhaps hired a man to make the sword while he quenched it or something.

 

[Bernard]

"Well... I was," Bernard answered, closing up a little as he did so. He didn't really want to think about it. He was gone now, that's all that mattered. Gone and off to fulfill his dreams. He was never really meant for a stuffy basement anyways.

He crossed his arms over his chest, giving those little daggers a confused glance. "I don't understand. How can you not have a sword? What will you do when you come across one? Duck? Those aren't gonna hold up against something like that. Not unless you're like. Small or something and can duck past their defense, but--" Well Thren wasn't small.

 

[Thren]

Ah well that made more sense. Blacksmith's apprentice with big dreams of becoming a Knight. The boy had likely listened to one too many tales from a bard. "You'd be surprised."

Thren seemed almost amused at the thought. He couldn't blame the boy for his assumption of course, it was actually a pretty decent one. Generally in a fight the person with better reach won. A sword allowed for that in part, and it was why many of his people chose weapons like Warhammers and Spears.

Of course, what he didn't know was that the Siruk used a particular type of magic. One that made them far more dangerous in battle than the average soldier.

"Sword's aren't the end all be all." The Barbarian said as he glanced around. They weren't far from Alliria, but you never knew what would pop from the woodwork. "I've seen a blademaster get throttled by a farmer with a quarterstaff."

That farmer had once been a soldier himself, but Thren decided to leave that part out.

 

[Bernard]

Well, count him as surprised then, because he couldn't picture it.

He snorted at Thren's quick tale, shaking his head. "No way, you're embellishing. I've seen plenty of soldiers train with the weapons I've made them and not one of them, not one, wanted to fight with a shorter reach." He wanted to see Thren fight now, though. And he hoped more than ever for there to be an encounter with trouble.

He noticed the man scanning around then and slyly did the same, reminding himself that that would be what's expected of him now. He's a guard. He should do guard things.

"Maybe we could train tonight. We can see if that theory really holds up." He snuck a sideways grin at the man, already dubbing him a friend.

 

[Thren]

"Sure." He'd enjoy putting the boy in the dirt.

No need to mention his magic of course.

The Siruk had never made any claim to honor, especially not during war or battle. Though Knights and stories told of Chivalry, those of his tribe had long ago learned that the dead could do nothing with it. You did whatever you could to win, everything else was just a distraction.

It was a philosophy that had kept him alive for near forty years, all of them spent in one battle or another. "I'll only use one dagger."

Thren said with a shrug. "More fair that way."

 

[Bernard]

Bernard laughed. "Nice try. But there's no way I'm going to let you say you took it easy on me. Both daggers or no dice. And let's say we put a wager on it. How about... a quarter of our wage. You get past my guard, it's yours. But if you can't-" He grinned wider, confident that he was about to walk out of this situation a little bit richer.

He held out a hand. It was rough and calloused, at least. The boy wasn't completely green.

"Deal?"

 

[Thren]

Thren grasped the boys hand. "Sure."

The Barbarian wondered if he'd just been hustled a bit. In all honesty it wouldn't surprise him too much. Once, on the other side of the spine, he'd seen a young man kill a Naga with just his bare hands. The sight had been...startling to say the least, though he'd later learned the young man had been from some sect of monks in the isles somewhere.

He doubted it was the same for this boy, but Thren had learned long ago that you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover.

Perhaps Bernard was secretly a mage of Elbio, using the sword only as a decoy so people would think he was a fool. That would be almost as amusing as seeing the kid thrown face first into the mud.

"That'll be a few hours from now." Thren said as he hopped off the cart and immediately turned around, his pace fast enough to keep up. "He'll want to get past the crest before stopping."

He of course referred to the merchant that had hired them.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard hummed in pleasure, nodding. "Right then, you go wear yourself out. I'm gonna nap." With a wink, he laid back against the sack. And I swear to god, he closed his eyes.

Not for long though. He kinda remembered that he was a hired guard a few moments later and blinked up, doing a little 'scan around' and rubbing at the back of his neck.

And the hours passed without much interest. The plethora of trees didn't fail to to invigorate him. He ...scanned. For... leaves? Yup. Lots of leaves. He re polished his gear. He hummed many a tunes. By the time they past the crest and found a good clearing, he was restless and bursting with energy. It never exactly occurred to him to stand up and walk a bit.

Yeah... how did he get hired?

He jumped off the cart as it stopped, stretching his legs and rolling back on his heels eagerly. "Hey, we did it," he chirped proudly at Thren, shoulder checking him as he carried his pack off to the side.

 

[Thren]

Thren had walked most of the rest of the day, though it didn't seem to weigh any on him.

That was partly due to simply how often he did it and his magic. The Siruk had been soldiers for generations, and part of being a soldier was marching. The pace they had set today had been a relatively slow one, and for Thren it had been almost like a calm march rather than work.

Of course the same could be said for Bernard. The boy had barely moved all day long, and he had no doubt his muscles would be rather stiff because of it. Had they been ambushed it likely would have taken him ten minutes just to be battle ready.

A few times he'd nearly said something, but in the end he'd decided not to. Wasn't like he was the boys keeper or anything. We're not even a days ride from Allira.

Thren thought to himself, ignoring the lad bouncing off his shoulder as he went off to the side of the camp.

He wondered if he was going to last through all this.