Private Tales On The Road

[Bernard]

Bernard managed to trade the promised of work for a knife the length of his forearm. How he was going to be able to properly mend one man's rapier with one hand, he wasn't sure. But the wooden hilt had broken in the ambush and they both needed functioning protection, so he would try.

They pushed on, always moving forward. Bernard felt no small bit of relief to make it through that day without an incident. He knew he'd be as useless with the knife at the moment as a child with a feather. They broke camp and he wasted no time, dropping his stuff and picking through the forest to find wood that would suffice as a replacement for the hilt. He kept an open eye for signs of disturbed ground, trying to make sure the rocky hill they had pitched against hadn't had any previous visitors.

He came back with a few rocks and stick strung up in a bag over his shoulder, going to a camp fire and settling down at seeing which piece of wood he could break down into the best handle.

 

[Thren]

Thren watched the lad throughout the day, though he made no move to help or speak to him.

As far as The Barbarian was concerned there was no real need to, not right now anyway. Eventually however the day rolled on, and Larik finally returned as the sun began to crest slowly on the horizon. The hound trotted easily, it's head held high and clearly in no rush at all.

That was a good sign.

"Find anything?" He asked the dog.

There was a loud bark, but then Larik simply trotted over to Thren and placed himself besides the Barbarian.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard worked hard, struggling with the wood and wrangling it into submission between his feet. It was hard work, and it was exceedingly frustrating work, but he worked with a single minded focus, managing to shape the wood into a rough wooden handle that he could fit inside the mounting port of the hilt. That was the part that required two hands, no part of wrangling with his feet making him able to do the task properly.

He put down the task and sat back, trying to give himself a breather and stretch out his sore body.

He glanced around himself slyly, wondering if he could spot Mia to help...

 

[Thren]

Larik and Thren sat near the cliff side, lounging back against a large boulder. For what felt like the first time this entire trip The Barbarian had stripped himself of armor and weapons. His plate mail, daggers, and various knives were all neatly arranged on a large stone platform ahead of him.

There was no intention to clean any of it of course, he simply needed a break from actually wearing the damned thing. It had been more than a week now, and there hadn't been much opportunity for bathing or really anything of that nature. Not with his paranoia clinging to him.

"Let's not do another one of these." Thren told his dog quietly with a smile.

"Only Body Guard jobs from now on." He continued. "Easy ones."

 

[Bernard]

No Mia, but he managed to get the owner of the blade's hand. Together they got it fit in and wrapped up with a new strip of rough leather that would prevent splinters and give a good grip.

He handed it off to the man with a firm yet awkward handshake, relieved to have completed the task in these circumstances. Free of obligations, he stood up and grabbed the dagger, trying to flip it in the air and catch it.

It clattered to the ground. he yanked back his foot to avoid losing a toe.

His ear grew red. He glanced around then swooped it up, shuffling away to go try and get use to handling it with his left hand in the privacy of trees.

 

[Thren]

The clank was loud enough to draw both Thren and Larik's attention.

His lips thinned for a moment as he saw Bernard just beyond one of the carts fumbling with something. He had no doubt that the boy was being a fool once more in some way, though just how he wasn't entirely sure. He'd watched him a bit, but not enough to know everything.

It wasn't like he was the lads father. "He's going to get himself killed."

The Barbarian said to his Hound, the dog flattening his ears slightly and letting out a low whimper. A frowned touched the man's lips for a second, his head shaking.

"No." He told the dog. "Definitely not."

Larik whimpered.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard practiced for a moment, tossing the blade about and trying to get it use to catching the weight in his hand. Not long after, he turned around and went back to the fireplace, glancing around and grabbing his pack.

He glanced around again, slipping to a supply cart. He'd disappear from sight, and when he'd emerge again, his pack was fuller. He whistled, flipping his blade in his hand and walking back to his clearing. There he stopped, wavering in place. He began to pace, his good hand flailing about as if he was talking to himself.

 

[Thren]

Thren saw it all. After Larik's excessive whining he had stood and decided it was perhaps a good idea to approach the young man, perhaps even apologize, but after what he saw?

Well, there wasn't much to say. "Well."

The Barbarian called out to the lad, Larik standing behind him and slowly trotting in place. Truth be told everyone had likely stolen their own fair share of supplies, but some reason with Bernard it seemed more...significant. If only because he'd talked so much about protecting people in the caravan.

How was stealing protecting.

"Thinking about leaving?" He doubted it, but it was a good way to approach this.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard jostled thoroughly, dropping the pack and all its contents. Pure adrenaline spiked through his body, burning its way through him. He looked at Thren like deer in head lights, so tense his neck ached.

His words fled him, pure shame and fear flooding his body. He locked down, just staring, wanting in that moment to melt away.

 

[Thren]

Larik immediately bounded forward and snapped up a roll of bread that had escaped from Bernard's bag.

The Hound, of course, was fed as properly as anyone on the Caravan, but he did have a tendency to be rather greedy. Thren couldn't really blame him. Their last job had been a siege, and during that whole fiasco they had gone nearly a week without a proper meal.

No doubt the Hound was loathe to repeat that. "Nothing to say?"

The Barbarian mused out loud.

As always Thren seemed to find this more funny than anything else, though with the fading light it was difficult to see his expression.

 

[Bernard]

If there was ever a time to shit himself again, it would be now. However he seemed to be in better control of his facilities. Even if he had forgotten to speak in the moment.

He swallowed hard a little bit of mechanical movement inching back to life in his body. "It's not what it looks like. I changed my mind," he whispered tightly. "I changed my mind, I'm not this kind of person, I wasn't going to go." His voice remained tight with shame and panic, almost pleading as he tried to explain himself to the man.

 

[Thren]

"I don't care." Thren said simply, walking up to the boy.

Larik was happily munching away on the fallen roll of bread, apparently entirely unaware of the seriousness of the situation around him. For the Barbarian of course this was...well this wasn't at all a problem. More amusing than anything else given what Bernard had said to him a few days ago.

"What were you going to do?" He asked. "Go into the Falwood?"

Thren chuckled. "It's more dangerous than the Bandits if you don't know where you're going."

 

[Bernard]

"I don't know," Bernard admitted, voice still caught in a girlish whisper. Something another merchant had said earlier had really gotten to him, and it was lending to this moment. "I don't know, I just-"

He actually sniffled. This whole assignment showed him a side of himself that... he didn't know how he was going to live with. Everything was collapsing on him at this very moment, and he didn't know what to do to make it so he could breathe again.

"Look at me, Thren. I can't see out of my eye. I lost my sword hand, my side hurts s-so bad. Everyone can just- do this to me. I'm just a punching bag, I-I just get in the way. I'm useless, I'm actually fucking useless." They weren't his words. But they had been etched into a deep dark place in him, a place that this whole mission had brought out. For this moment, he was believing them. How could he not? Look at him.

 

[Thren]

"You're a kid." Thren said, not hiding the amusement from his voice.

Of course the Barbarian had no idea how old Bernard actually was, but his guess was more than good enough to tell a few things. It reminded him of the little Nobles that ran around during a battle. The ones who got themselves killed because of their over confidence.

"What did you think you'd leave Alliria and conquer the world?" That thought was even more amusing. "Fighting, battle, war, none of it is easy."

Hell, he hadn't even really experienced the latter two. "You learn as you go. Everyone takes a beating along the way, and those who don't are worse off for it."

Thren's tone wasn't as amused anymore, shifting to something more serious.

"There are no easy paths in this life." He said simply. "You get pushed over. You lose an eye. Your hand gets cut off. None of it matters. You stand up and keep going. You get better, and eventually you get good enough where you're the one cutting off hands."

It had been that way for him.

 

[Bernard]

The stiffness in Bernard's body began to slowly disperse, giving way to an occasional tremble and an upset catch to his breath.

He didn't know how to respond to that. Thren's words felt too big for him. Like he couldn't fit them inside of his head; something was squeezing it, creating a choke point that prevented any rational logical from going through to him. He tried to not forget the wisdom, though. He didn't want to forget the advice, he could tell that it was better for him than the toxic thoughts spewing around inside of his mind right now.

"Why haven't you left yet?" He asked, his voice soft and defeated.

 

[Thren]

"I told you." The Barbarian said with a shrug. "I'm not a monster."

Even though there had been stories to the contrary more than once. "I won't leave these people to die if I don't have to."

The Barbarian was entirely sure that eventually this little caravan would be overrun by either bandits or Anirian Guardsmen, but until then he could stick around.

"If things get bad I'll grab who I can and enter the Falwood." He shrugged. "I know enough about this place to survive, and taking a few people with won't be the end of me."

In fact it would probably help. "I know that trying to convince them to leave now won't work, so I simply wait."

 

[Bernard]

Bernard wavered in place, Thren's words not resonating well. "So we stay... until we run?" He seemed to have accepted that he couldn't fight, and it was the loss of his hand that had done it. He was cocky but he wasn't stupid. He was only dangerous if he could pick up that sword.

"How is that any different? Why can't we take them all now and run into the forest? Why does any have to be left behind at all?"

 

[Thren]

"Oh, they won't go." Thren said simply.

He already knew that.

"For quite a few of these people this trip means their livelihood for the next year." A shrug rolled over the Barbarians shoulders. "For other's its a chance at a better life."

It was the fact of their lives. "They don't see the same danger. They think we can beat any bandits that come, and if the Anirian Guardsmen come they'll kill the Merchant but not everyone else."

Which was of course not the case. The killing of the Merchant was not an Anirian writ, it came from one of the Great Houses. That meant it wasn't exactly legal, which meant there could be no witnesses to the crime.

"So have to wait." Another shrug.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard didn't respond, standing there for a moment and processing this. He slid to the ground, needing a seat. "If we stay we save them all," he tried to level at Thren, trying hard to be serious and almost threatening, but he was simply desperate to get Thren to agree.

It didn't matter if it was possible. It didn't matter if he could actually fight or not. He couldn't be useless. If he stayed, he helped. Whatever that looked like.

 

[Thren]

"Can't do that." Thren said as he squatted down besides Larik and patted the Hound's head.

A small sigh escaped him, his gaze slowly returning to Bernard.

"Most of them will die in the first few seconds." Thren explained calmly. "There's a few that will have listened to be and be ready, but most...most won't."

That was the reality of these people. Most of them didn't even believe they were any danger at all anymore. "The idea of taking more doesn't concern me. I just know they won't make it."

Nor could they defend them.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard's brows furrowed. It was disturbingly easy to picture the scene Thren painted for him, the chaos flashing through his mind as clearly as day. He shook his head out, trying to banish the screams from his ears as his stomach churned. That's horrible.

He wanted to reject it as a lie, but something told him it really wasn't. It really wasn't.

"You talk like you'd done this before," he said softly, the question hanging unspoken. He reached out, sluggishly petting Larik too. It was easier to look at him right now. He was just a dog. He held no judgement, and likely wouldn't die in any assault.

 

[Thren]

"The Siruk are honor bound to complete any contract they take." Thren figured the explanation would be the best part to begin. "Unless, the contractor withheld information about the contract itself."

There were other pieces to it of course, but Bernard did not currently need a history lesson on the Siruk and their way of life.

"This is not the first time someone has lied about a contract." The Barbarian said with a shrug.

"I will not risk my life for a liar." Thren continued. "But I am not a monster either. I will save those I can."

As best as he could anyway.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard took a deep breath in and out, coming down from his earlier upset. He thought for a moment before looking to them man, saying earnestly, "I promise you, I wasn't going to go through with it. I'm not a monster either. I-... I thought I was for a moment, but-" He flailed, looking desperately down to his splinted hand.

He still had no solution for it. He still didn't know how he would protect himself with it. But he did know what he would do now. He would stay. And he would save everyone he could.

"I worked for this." He held up the knife he had been given, from hilt to tip the length of his forearm. It wasn't much, but it was something that he could hold with his left hand. And that was a start. "I want to try."

 

[Thren]

He shrugged. "There is no honor in battle."

None at all.

The Siruk, despite their own code of honor, had long believed that the concept itself was not for all. Fear was a primal human emotion, wanting to live an urge that could seldom be overcome. In Siruk society, the loss of Honor would not bring shame from others, but pity.

It would not have mattered had Bernard run, for he was the only one who would have had to live with it.

"Most of your understanding is using a sword." Thren said, then quickly added. "Yes?"

Unsure of how else to broach the subject.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard grimaced, realizing now how foolhardy that was. Just a sword and only a sword, how could he have thought that would be all it took? "Yes," he admitted, shame flooding his cheeks.

"A shield too, but I stopped using it a few years ago," he added, grimacing further as he realized his next words. "...Too cumbersome." And that statement had quickly become the story of his life, his sword too cumbersome for him too.

He hesitated, not entirely sure he wanted to ask the man his next question, but finding he had to. "...Will you help me?" To some degree, he was braced for a no. He was hopeless, after all. And Thren had already stated he wasn't here to train people.