Private Tales On The Road

[Thren]

"I fight in a manner you cannot." The Siruk answered, but his expression told the situation was not too dire. Just because Bernard couldn't learn to fight like him didn't mean there wasn't a way for him to help the lad.

Something he was sure he'd be glad of.

"But you have a foundation." Thren continued on. "You simply have to build off it. Without that tree of a sword of yours you'll be faster."

A smile crossed the Barbarian's face. "And that, I can show you how to use."

Though just how much he could teach before they were attacked again he had no idea.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard hesitantly met that smile with one of his own, finding some hope from it. "Yeah?"

He pat Larik and stood up, eager to do this. "Just... no breaking any more bones. I need those."

And they trained, the boy learning a better stance for his swordless weapon. Thren had him moving faster, too, trying to teach the boy to be nimble and avoid hits. Bernard was a hardworking student, not protesting any hard work thrown at him. In fact, he seemed to thrive under it.

He flopped over at the end, shaking out his tired left hand. "Hula and Tia are taking the first shifts," he huffed, his way of saying he was done and ready for some damn good rest.

 

[Thren]

Thren nodded, though he didn't seem half as tired as Bernard. Most of the training had been leading the lad tog move properly and getting him into the correct forms.

He was still far from a blademaster, about as far as Thren was from a Master of Elbion, but at least he knew what he needed to do now. The Barbarian couldn't help but feel slightly proud, though he couldn't help but wonder if Bernard would be able to remember when they actually fought.

"They will." Thren agreed.

A sharp whistle passed through his teeth.

Larik's head snapped up from where he lay, and then quickly The hound trotted off to go and fetch Thren's water skin. A few seconds later Thren gulped down the refreshing drink.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard stretched out, yanking at the ties of his breast plate and lazily shoving it to the side, shirking out of it. He sighed in relief, finding the ground comfortable for the first time all trip. Perhaps he was hardening up after all. Or maybe it was just how tired he was. Either way, he turned on his side to face Thren and the hound, sighing again in comfort as he nestled into his own arm.

For the first time in days he felt some relief, as if he could finally breathe again. The endorphins pumping through his body and the sense of resolution the last hour had brought had really helped the boy.

He let his eyes closed, letting the moment and exhaustion wash over him and cocoon him in a soft haze.

"Hey Thren?" He looked back up, the sleepless nights suddenly weighing heavily around his eyes.

 

[Thren]

"What?" Thren retorted quickly, already half asleep.

A man like Thren needed his beauty sleep. He was getting up there in years, and if he didn't get enough rest he was bound to be rather grouchy the next day. Something that everyone was best to avoid.

Still, the lad deserved a little bit of leeway.

Over the last few days Bernard had most of his belief system and confidence absolutely destroyed. Most of that by the hands of Thren himself. The Barbarian figured he could at least give the kid a little bit of rope to walk out on. Though if he said something stupid he might have Larik piss on him.

It would only be fair.

 

[Bernard]

"... Thanks." He let his eyes drag back closed, saying nothing more to bother Thren. Not long after, the sound of his steady breathing would fill the air, falling asleep quickly for the first time since before the attack.

 

[Thren]

Thren didn't say anything.

In his mind there was really nothing to thank him for in the first place. The more prepared Bernard was the more likely it was he himself survive.

It was a selfish thing, but then again Thren was a rather selfish person.

The Siruk were not taught to be charitable, not really anyway. More warriors meant more people fighting at his side, and although Bernard had always been a warrior, at least now he would be useful.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard woke to the morning sun, blinking groggily at the sounds of people getting up... packing up... doing things. Wha? Had he sleept through the night? He rolled over, looking for Thren, but as suspected, the man was gone.

Oh. They didn't wake him for the shift?

Oh.

He stretched, his body feeling closer to normal than ever before after a rest like that. He couldn't help but to smile a little to himself, pleased. He sat up and rubbed at his face, pulling his pack over and grabbing some food from it. He ate it silently, then went to join the others, curious about what others had to say about today's route.

 

[Thren]

Thren stood with a bowl of oats in his hand, frowning down at the food with an expression that told more of a story than any words could have. His head shook idly, and he wondered what happened to all the meat and other supplies that he was sure they had brought on this trip.

"Need to go hunting." The Barbarian grumbled quietly.

The Falwood was a difficult place to hunt of course. The woods were filled with all sorts of dangers that could see a man dead before he even realized what was going on, but if you caught something...well it tended to be rather delicious.

"Maybe find a unicorn." He told Larik, who simply flattened his ears in response. "I heard they're delicious."

A nearby little girl looked at him with a horrified expression.

 

[Bernard]

"Hunting?" Bernard echoed, stepping over. "LIke a hunting party?" He clearly didn't know much on the topic. "Can I help?" He looked more chipper this morning, his old peep to his step returned and a slight gleam to his eye. He winked at the girl, playing it cool.

"You shoulda woken me," he murmured softer to Thren. "That shift was my turn."

 

[Thren]

Thren shook his head. "You don't have hunting Parties in the Falwood."

Generally you went alone, or with only one other person. The Elves could do it in a group, but this was their homeland and they knew it better than anyone else.

"Too dangerous." He shrugged. "I'll send Larik out and perhaps we can find something, but a bunch of us running into the wood will only get us killed."

Spiders, Gargoyles, Cockatrice, whatever the hell else was out there.

When Bernard questioned him about sleep he shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

 

[Bernard]

"...If you're sure that's enough," Bernard relented, not pushing the topic of hunting any more. He reached into his back and sly slipped Thren some bread, his ears tinging red. He'd have to return all this later ... For now he plopped his back in the cart and pet Larik's head.

"Seems really handy to have a fella like him." He gave Larik a good ruffle and straightened. "....S'been so long since they attacked. do you think they just... lost us?" He asked, his voice hush.

 

[Thren]

"The Siruk all have pets." Thren told Bernard, imparting a bit more knowledge on the boy about his culture. "Most choose Hawks or some kind of bird, though a few branch out every now and again."

He smiled to himself. "My cousin has a snake."

Irid always was a rather odd little duckling. He wasn't entirely sure how she managed to train a snake to do much of anything, but she nevertheless had. It was impressive really in it's own way, something to be admired really.

"I doubt they ever knew exactly where we were." Thren commented freely, shrugging his shoulder. "The first group was likely little more than blind luck."

No, others would come later. "But, there's only one real route to Vel Anir for a caravan like this. So finding us isn't too hard."

 

[Bernard]

"The merchants should fund more roads, might be able to avoid a problem like this next time," Bernard noted, looking troubled. the cart jolted, the animals kicking forward restlessly. Bernald caught himself and stopped leaning against it, preparing for the walk to resume.

There was an awful lot of walking. That had always been left out of the stories.

"How old is he?" Bernard gestured curiously to Larik, his head going morbid places. Like what would happen if Larik died? Who would be Thren's side kick then?

 

[Thren]

"The Merchants would have to face the Elves if they started to carve more roads through the Falwood." Thren said, chuckling as though that were a joke.

"They're loathe to allow that sort of thing." The forest was a precious thing to the Elves. "Even this one had to be fought for, literally."

Thren only knew that because the last time he'd made this journey someone had told him. The Barbarian was not really a student of history, nor was he any sort of scholar. Not being able to read also didn't help with that sort of thing. Thren was not a worldly man, just a soldier making his way.

He frowned in thought for a brief moment at Bernard's question. "Eight or nine, perhaps nearly ten."

It had been a decade or so spent together fighting.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard grinned and gave Larik another healthy ruffle, bolstered by the news. "You got some bite left in you then, don't ya?" He speak to the hound in that dog voice way, trying to get him excited with him.

"So there are elves in here? Really?" Bernard asked, looking up to Thren as the whole line of carts started moving out together. "Are they nearby? Do you think they know we're here? Because..." his face slowly lit up as he thought of it. "They could help us. Wait, Thren. They could help us!"

 

[Thren]

"They won't." Thren said simply, though he appreciated Bernard's enthusiasm for the idea.

Though Thren was hardly the most worldly fellow, he knew enough about politics in the region to pretty much say the Elves would stay as far away from this situation was physically possible.

"Some of their scouts might have spotted us already." It was pretty much impossible to tell with them. Elven Scouts were of such a high quality that even Larik couldn't scent them most of the time. Bastards were as slippery as an eel in a cookpot. "But they'll stay far away."

He shifted slightly, then glanced at the woods around them. "There's peace between Vel Anir and Fal'Addas right now, something of a rarity."

The last war was more of a generation ago, but it was still fresh in most minds.

"They won't want to risk it." Thren explained. "One attack, one wrong move, and Vel Anir could very likely send it's Dreadlords into the Falwood again."

 

[Bernard]

Bernard paled at the very thought. "They sent Dreadlords after elves? But! But! They're! Elves!" It seemed... barbaric to kill one. Under any circumstances, such incrediable people ... their beauty, their grace, their way with weapons, they shouldn't ever be blown up by a Dreadlord. No way.

"What happened? Why were they even fighting over a road, its just ground."

For once, it would appear like Thren knew more about something than someone.

 

[Thren]

Thren perked an eyebrow. "Kiva bless you don't know anything."

The Barbarian shook his head slightly, unsure of how Bernard knew so little about history.

"Vel Anir is one...perhaps the grandest testament to Humanity in the world. Unlike with Elbion or Alliria, Vel Anir was built completely and entirely by Humans." It was something they were rather proud of, a notion that they brought up in almost every conversation.

Thren had been there more than once. Work was plentiful and if you were human the folk were friendly enough too.

"They managed it through conquest, war." The Siruk had been a part of those wars of course, working as mercenaries for the Anirians. "The City was born in blood. They fought the Nomads of the Steppes, conquered the villages around them, and eventually turned their eyes towards the Falwood."

There was more to it than that, but Thren was no historian. "The Anirian's want nothing more than power. They are human supremacists at heart, even if they claim not to be now."

 

[Bernard]

"Ahhhh," Bernard grimaced, connecting the dots from there. "People are really greedy, aren't they? I say the elves are right to fight then. This is their home, after all," he concluded, forming his own opinions about the matter then and there.

"...Still," he added. "Another road. Something to consider." He shrugged causually, as if it was Thren he was trying to convince, and being nonchalant about it.

"Have you ever met one? An elf."

 

[Thren]

"Many would agree with you." Thren commented. "Others would not."

Mainly Anirians, though a surprising amount of people from Bernard's own home city would likely echo the sentiment as well. Humanists, supremacists in all but name, were common in many places where men ruled. It was simply the way of the world.

For the Siruk? Well it had never really mattered much. Everyone was an outsider. "A few."

The Barbarian commented.

"They're much like everyone else." Thren said dryly. "As much as they say they're not."

 

[Bernard]

Stars entered Bernard's eyes, the boy looking both awed and eager. "Really? Have you fought one? Is it true they can move fast than the eye can track? That they can break swords with their hands? Shoot a fly down from a league away?"

He didn't seemed to hear the first statement that they were really all the same as everyone else, caught up in the legions he had heard.

 

[Thren]

He perked an eyebrow. "They're faster, and stronger."

Thren had to admit that much. The bastards were as fleet afoot as just about anything else he'd ever seen. He'd heard a Dwarf once boast that he could design a machine more accurate with a bow than an Elf, but Thren wasn't sure if that was actually true either.

"But you can still see em' when they move." He paused for a second, unsure if he should go on.

"And Kill them." Thren decided it would be best not to shield Bernard from the facts of the world. "You just have to be smart."

The world could give you all the advantages in the world, but if you were an arrogant fool you'd still get cut down at the end of the day.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard expelled a breath, slowly shaking his head. "S'not right, killing an elf..."

He looked around the forest with new knowledge. Elves had died to stop this road. Maybe right here, under his feet. He grimaced at the mental image his mind provided, still not one to lust after the sight of gore. Winning a fight was one thing, the rest was... something he was growing distaste for.

He slipped into silence, Thren giving him much to mull over as they kept putting one... foot... in front of... the other...

 

[Thren]

"Why?" It seemed a rather strange and almost arbitrary line to say that killing elves wasn't right.

They were like any other species in Arethil. Some were good, some were bad, most landed somewhere in the middle. That was the nature of all beings really, save for those species who were inclined towards more...brutal ways of thought.

"They're older and fairer." He could admit that. "But not better than any of us."

He hated people who thought they were better simply for being born. It rubbed him the wrong way. "No one is."

Thren sounded rather stern about that.