Completed Stray Beast Strut

[Lechies Delrio]

Occupied as she was with identifying the extent of damage to the wagon, Lechies only half paid attention to Garrod and the woman's exchange. It wasn't until a heavy swish and a thud ended in the man's pained noise that she finally turned to look -- and immediately jerked back, startled by the knife sprouting from his shoulder.

Of greater concern was the knife gripped in his own hand. Despite his injury, the look in his eyes was dark, and his teeth were gritted with menace as he advanced once more, blade raised to strike.

'Trap,' her mind screamed as she scrambled to stand. As the man bore down, Lechies threw out a hand, a purple glyph flashing before her palm, answered by a pulse of violet light from the tip of her staff. The knife's point landed just below her collarbone, buried to the hilt. Only the hilt touched her -- the blade itself shattered into tiny pieces, forced brittle by Lechies's magic, its shards trickling harmlessly down the front of her tunic.

The force of the man's lunge still drove her back, however, and Lechies winced as the wagon edge dug painfully into her spine. Fortunately, her attacker was too confused by the destruction of his knife to capitalize on his momentary advantage. By the time he recovered, Lechies had already slammed her knee into his groin with all the strength she could muster. Another pained noise leaped from his throat, and he folded over onto the ground.

Three more of the brigands closed in. (No, make that two, as one of them disappeared beneath Lily's angry bulk.) Lechies picked the closest, shouting an incantation as she took her staff in both hands and swung it in the man's direction. A golden missile of arcane energy flew forth, but he ducked, and the bolt went harmlessly over his head, parting the lines of wheat as it sailed onward.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod went to draw his sword, but the lady brigand intervened. Her steel flashing forward, its Point thrust right at Garrod's chest. It forced him back. Kept him from unsheathing his blade as two streaks of golden magic fizzed by and interrupted her lunge. He growled to himself, and stepped, semi-circle, to keep the large bundle of bear stuffs between him and the lady.

Footfalls sounded to his right, a blood pounding shout roared to his left. He let magicked words spill from his lips as the three bandits closed in.

"Don't let him take out that monster-killer on his back, you hear? Keep the pressure on him boys!" The lady leader ordered from beyond the bear sack.

Quick and explosive, the spellsword sprang toward the haul of goods, a swift kick saw the still-magicked bear-sack shoot up toward the lady brigand, who shouted in surprise and tried to dive away from the mass. Garrod used the flying loot as a screen, and thrust his hand toward one of the men and shout out the final phrase. One of the attackers saw their clothes catch fire. The flames spread quick, devouring the rough-spun cotton in a flash.

The brigande-set-a-flame yelled in horror, and dropped to the ground. But as he rolled the other, who had shouted and was armed with a club, barreled toward Garrod. He brought the large club down on Garrod, who managed to brace himself behind his gauntleted arm to receive the blow.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies grimaced at herself as she watched her projectile fly wide. It was at least a small comfort that the other brigands were focusing their efforts on Garrod. They saw the tall hunter as the greater threat, and perhaps they were correct. Magic bent the air; the furthest man lit up in a brilliant, terrible display of orange, and he collapsed, rolling about in the dirt in a panicked attempt to save himself from the consuming flames.

She would help him, if there was still time after they'd dealt with the rest.

The man at her feet was evidently in too much pain to stand. Lechies shoved his hammer away with her foot, just in case. Hopping over his huddled body, words of power gathered on her tongue as telltale glyphs spun into existence around her hands. Her eyes locked onto the one with the club, and narrowed.

The weapon slammed into Garrod's arm with a noise like splintering lumber. The goon smiled, teeth surprisingly straight and bright with victory, but he would have precious little time to enjoy himself. Lechies tapped the end of her staff into the ground. The glyphs flared silver in response, and beneath the brigand's feet, a patch of earth turned oddly shiny, seemingly reflecting the sun's light as a pane of glass might.

The brigand went to shove against Garrod with the club, trying to push the hunter over, but as his weight shifted, the goon suddenly found that his boots had no traction on the ground below. His balance disappeared and he pitched forward, eyes wide, legs flailing behind him.

Some ways away, Lily's head moved busily, still brutalizing the man beneath her. The ox watched on, calmly chewing, heedless of the gurgled screams.

The last brigand standing was the woman with the estoc.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

The blow rattled Garrod. The crash of tempered wood against his demonic armor clanged so sharp and loud that it rung his ears, and while Belephus kept his cursed shape, the force with which the brute had brought the weapon down left Garrod's arm feeling as if it had nearly come off at the shoulder. He staggered back, still on his feet, as the big man bulled for him.

Bright blinding light seared p from beneath the brigand in a beam that had Garrod squinting, and the bandit with the club slipped and fell hard upon his face. Not one to let the moment pass, Garrod wound up and booted the man on the side of the face as he tried to work himself back up.

With a scrapper's shuffle, Garrod side stepped over the downed clubber's body and snatched up his beat stick as he turned to the lady brigand, pointing the club dramatically at her as he let out hard breaths and clutched his armored arm close to his chest. Dull red pain throbbed in his shoulder and elbow. Nothing felt broken, but that could just be the adrenaline.

"Well, aren't you two a pair of annoying little mice," she seethed from behind bared white teeth. She'd kicked the bear-sack out of the way, and nothing stood between her and the two adventurers .

"Careful, she's no slouch with that," Garrod said to Lechies, already positioning himself between the mage and the last brigand.

"No! I'm not! And you two best be on your best-" she blurred forward, throwing a knife at the mage with her off hand while she thrust at Garrod. He turned and tried to guard with the club. She slipped around him, threw a cut at his leg, aimed for the back of his knee, but he turned with her, and the blow glanced off the poleyn plate that encased his knee, but she didn't stop moving, a fresh knife in her hand as she closed in on the mage.

"Lechies!" Garrod tried to warn.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

"You can hardly expect mice not to bite when cornered," came Lechies's reply.

Garrod took up a protective stance in front of her. Lechies nodded with gratitude even as she worriedly eyed the arm he kept tucked against his body. She'd thought -- hoped -- that the awful cracking noise when the club had landed was just the sound of the armor taking a dent, but now she wondered if the goon had managed to break bone.

"I'll be careful," she promised him, staff gripped tightly in her hand. "Is your-"

The woman moved then, her entire body snapping forward like a whip. The deadly silver flash Lechies barely avoided; the knife flew so close to her ear, she could feel the wind move as it tumbled past. A heavy thunk sounded as the blade sank into the wagon behind.

In her haste to dodge, Lechies unintentionally trod on the man curled up on the ground, and he groaned as she put her weight onto his fingers. She glanced down to make sure he wasn't about to grab at her feet, but he seemed content to stay as he was, eyes still somewhat crossed.

Garrod called her name. Lechies's head snapped up. A chant fell from her mouth, and her left hand came up, golden light spilling into a dome-like shape around her. The barrier was a thin one, constructed in a hurry, but it would be enough to turn one blow.

Still the woman charged forward, undeterred, lips pulled into a sinister smile. Too late Lechies noticed the unusual tint on the knife's edge, an aurum color just a shade darker than her shield. Her eyes went wide.

'Magekiller', echoed the horrified realization. A toxin favored by assassins for its ability to disrupt arcane weaves. When applied to a weapon, magekiller could even pierce through simple magic defenses. Like hers.

The knife punched through her barrier like it was made of wet parchment, continuing into and through her glove, through her palm. Lechies screamed, only for the brutal collision of a fist across her temple to cut her cry short. White shards exploded across her vision. She felt her legs start to give way. A faraway corner of her mind urged her not to drop her staff.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

One step behind. He was only one step behind.

Lechies called forth the barrier. That would be enough. That would give him time to- The knife punched through the shimmering defense and went straight into Lechies' hand. Blood spurt and lechies yelled out. The boss brigand thwacked the mage across the temple, and the mage went slack.

Garrod growled as he swung the club with his off hand.

You need me now, Garrod. Came the all too familiar voice.

The brigand skipped away. Too fast. Too aware. She settled into her stance as she stood just behind Lechies, Swordpoint raised and aimed at the dazed caster. "You sure you want to-" Her eyes widened as the club whirled towards her, whooping end over end. She dodged, but threw a knife at the hunter in turn. "Not so fast!"

It was in his blind spot. But he had seen her throw it before. Twice now. Saw how she liked to fling the knife from her hip. It pinged off his chest-plate, and the hunter went on with his charge, magicked words spilling from his tongue. He swung his good arm up, took hold of his great sword and brought it down from its sheath in violent motion. "Trueno!" He called out. The punctuation of his cant willed his quickly depleting mana into his blade. Its ancient runes lit up, lightning blue. The whole weapon sparked and zapped as it was wreathed in storm. It came down, bolt fast.

But she was faster. A back peddle dropped her far enough away to avoid the crash. Her weight planted on her back foot as the hunter's greatsword smashed into the earth, loud as thunder. It kicked up dust and sent debris scattering about. She aimed her estoc's point, eyes wide with glee. "Nice try~" She said as she thrust forward, tip-toeing around the charged great-sword. Garrod smirked.

Static coursed out from the weapon, grounded as it was, and a small field of searing-blue-white webbed around its burnished steel. It zapped the brigand. Not enough to knock her out. But enough to slow her down.

Pain flared up Garrod's arm as he raised it up, and parried the statically-slowed thrust with Belephus' spiny casing. "Belephus!" He called out, and the milky jewel seemed to blink to life. His gauntleted hand glowed a horrid green, and he turned his hand and raked the clawed fingertips across the brigand.

Belephus laughed. Gleeful as his cursed metal ripped through the homespun cloth and drew blood from the Brigand's arm.

She grunted and growled as she tangled with Garrod. The two vying for control of the crush. Her sword trying to dig its point into him, his clawed hand desperately pulling her sword arm down.

"Let- go of me- you freak!" She hammered him across the face with her free hand. The first strike stung him, nearly blacked him out, the second knocked him to the floor. Blood and spittle flew from his mouth. His eye struggled to stay open as the world blurred about the edges. He needed to stay awake. He needed to keep Belephus channeled. But he was so tired.

No, not yet, Garrod, Belephus laughed. Stay with me a while longer, let me take her in. Let me take all of her. For you, of course. For the mage too. If you go now, Garrod, off to sleep, then she'll kill you, you know. Might kill the mage just for fun.

"What... What did you do to me?" the brigand asked, feeling her strength diminish with unnatural speed. She raised her sword arm, saw the long red lines where he had scraped her with that.... thing. "What did you do to me?!" She shouted, kicking him in frustration. But her eyes locked with the gleaming jewel, and she froze in its gaze. Her sword fell out of her hand,

The Ox mooed, loud over the eerie silence that seemed to suffocate the air around them.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies didn't know how many seconds had passed since she hit the ground. She didn't remember blinking, either, but she must have, because in the next moment, she was staring up at the blue sky, the sun a painfully bright point in a corner of her wavering vision. She lay on her back, legs half-twisted beneath her. Her palm was a throbbing mess of agony, unnaturally heavy with the added weight of the knife. Lechies clenched her teeth, coaching herself sternly not to flex her left hand.

Her other hand she closed, relieved to find that her staff hadn't rolled out of her grip. However hurt she was, at least she hadn't been disarmed. The noise of Garrod's clash with the brigand woman rang out too close for comfort: the thud of boots; the hissing of steel; the crackling of spellfire. Magic buzzed in her ears, the air dense with it, but it seemed that despite all his efforts, Garrod had yet to triumph over his opponent.

'Have to help,' came the watery thought. Lechies struggled onto her stomach, biting back another scream, and tried to focus. But though she reached for her magic, anticipated the preparatory flood of power through her veins, there was nothing. It was like shouting into a room, expecting an echo but hearing only silence. More than mere emptiness, it was a marked absence of something that should have been there.

The knife. The magekiller -- the blade was still in her, soaked with the toxin. Lechies went to grab the hilt sticking out of her hand, but the moment her fingers wrapped around it, a fresh wave of pain shot up her wrist. She was forced to let go, tears in her eyes.

She... she wasn't strong enough to remove it. Not alone.

Floundering pathetically where she lay, Lechies could only watch the rest of the fight. Garrod took a blow to the face -- once, then twice, each thud mirrored by a terrified slam of her heart against her ribs. If he lost -- if they lost...

But the woman's movements were slowing, too, droplets of her blood staining the earth. At last she stopped moving, limbs locked still. Lechies couldn't see the cloudy gem of Garrod's gauntlet from her lowered position, but she felt its influence, more oppressive than ever, more alive than before, the space around it warped by a hungry gravity.

Lechies was afraid.

But she was more afraid of what might happen if Garrod stopped what he was doing.

"Garrod!" she called. "I can't-" Couldn't cast. Couldn't kill, either. "You have to finish it!"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

What did he do? His eye was still open, half lidded, it wanted to shut. His eye was still open, and he could see her, clear as day, there in the black of his missing left. Green flame burned around her. Rose up and licked at limbs and coursed through flesh.

What did he do to her?

Gave her to me, of course. Belephus purred, pleased as punch.

"Let go of me, you bloody, bastard," The brigand muttered weekly. Still caught in the gaze of the gauntlet. "Let, go of me!" She growled deep in her throat, and willed herself to move. But the weight of that pale stare. It pulled at her. Took from her. Trickles through her cracks. As more and more of her strength escaped her, more and more sapped away. Cracks grew bigger. Whole pieces of her seemed to strain, weaken. Threatened by the current that grew with such painful steadiness.

Garrod's vision steadied. He could feel his breath. It entered and left his lungs. The green sear of the demon's blight filled his empty eye. He had to stop it. He had to finish it. He worked himself up from the ground onto hands and knees. His head pounding and ears ringing as his mana bled into the gauntlet, fuel for its hex-fire.

"Sleep now," he remembered the words as he put a foot beneath himself.

Oh, you shouldn't Garrod, you shouldn't! Belephus pleaded, desperate and gleeful all the same.

The air was so thick around him. As if all the sweetness of the wind had been stolen. The gold of the wheat seemed duller, the sky grayer. Maybe it was all in his head. But it made standing all the harder. Still, he stood, picking the Estoc off the ground as he did. "Sleep now, O' Devourer mine."

The bright and hungry malice of the gauntlets eye dulled. Slowly. As if some horrible membrane slid shut across its gleaming surface.

He raised the sword up and pointed it the enfeebled brigand. "Surrender," he demanded.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

"Sleep now."

Lechies's heart skipped a beat, thinking he meant those words for the woman caught in his gauntlet's non-corporeal grasp. But then the air around them went looser, and the suffocating haze that had been pouring from the gem seemed to close off as if someone had twisted a valve shut. Even the once-constant press of its aura against Lechies's senses seemed so feeble now, gentle as the touch of a fingertip.

The brigand leader staggered back with a gasp as Belephus's hold lifted. Trembling, she brought her hand up and stared, flexing carefully, as if not quite convinced that she had full control of her limbs again. Then she flashed her teeth at Garrod, and that same hand snapped down to her thigh, fingers perched on the final knife in her holster. Still trembling, but ready to try.

"Surrender now? After what you did to Yefrem and Eloy?" She sneered down the length of Garrod's stolen blade, swaying slightly from side to side. "Not likely, you bloody freak! You... you can barely keep on your feet as it is! And your mage won't sling any more magic today."

"P-Perhaps not," said Lechies. She had worked herself onto one knee, leaning heavily on her staff. Her wounded hand hung listless at her side. "But don't forget... we have one more player in the game."

She tilted her head, her smile innocent and humorless. Behind them, the wheat growled, and Lily's teeth-filled snout appeared, her scales shimmering red. A darker and more viscous kind of red was splashed all across her mouth. The woman made a noise, part fear, part anguish.

"Please," Lechies said, her brief smile already gone. "Believe it or not, we... We don't want you to go the same way as your fellows. Leave us in peace and we won't pursue."

"Wilhemina," came a weak groan from the man on the ground, by the wagon. He was now nursing his fingers but seemed unsure if he had permission to stand up yet. "We should take the offer. Grab Paddy and get the hell out. 'Fore they sic that fish-hound on us."

"Shut up, Jan," the woman hissed, but her swaying worsened. She looked ready to fall over at any moment.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod bared his teeth right back.

"You lot attacked us, remember?" He spat beneath his breath. "I could have let it take you, could have..." He choked the words and kept his glare fixed on her. "Take your companions, and go. Chalk it up to bad luck, and be thankful you have your lives."

"You bloody..." She pulled the knife free from its sheath. Lily growled louder. Her claws crunched against the loose dirt of the road as she stepped forward.

"Meena! Enough of it!" Jan called out, on his knees now. "You stab that git, then what? I watch that snouted monster chew you to bits?"

What hardness was left in her waned further. Her knife hand shook, but her eyes never left Garrod's. "Give me back my sword, you bastard."

Garrod grinned, wicked as his eye shone with malice. "Walk off first, and I'll leave it right here for you," he craned his neck, and pointed the blade down at his feet. A duelist's taunt, if there'd ever been one.

"Don't you go getting smarmy with me now!" Her knife hand twitched, she had half the mind to throw it still.

"Meena!" Jan warned. "Paddy is still with us, we have our lives. Let's go Meena, please."

Proud being that she was, Meena wanted to shout. But Lily's threat was enough to have her hold in her boiling rage. All that came out was a venomous, "Alright..." She dropped the knife. "We will go."

Garrod nodded, and stabbed the sword into the dirt. "Go on then, get on with leaving."

Jan, cautiously, stood up and gingerly walked over to Paddy, picked him up, and made his way over to his boss. "Come on now, Meena, let's get along now." There was a softness there in his voice. Not quite gratitude, nor surrender. He over her his shoulder, be she swiped away.

"Shut up, Jan," she grumbled, and took shaky step after shaky step.

They disapeared down the road. Far enough along that their forms blurred into the brush in the distance. Garrod stood tall all the while, hand never far from the blade. But when they vanished from the horizon, he fell to one knee, his breath heavy.

Lily came up to him. Rubbed her muzzle against his leg, and stared at him with her big watery eyes.

"Good girl," he said softly to her, and gave her small pats atop the head.

The fish-hound went to Lechies, and sniffed her hand next, smart enough to leave it be before she offered her scaly comfort.

"I'll see about getting the cart fixed," Garrod said, the tired full and heavy in his voice. "We best leave that knife in your hand until we see a healer," He grabbed up his greatsword with obvious strain, and rose back up to his feet. "Less damage to deal with than if we pull it out now," he added as he hefted up his blade and rest it on his shoulder.

He took half steps back and forth to find his balance with the added weight, but settled with it, easy. He stepped toward the mage, concern clear on his face, but he forced a smile when he neared her. "You handled yourself well," he adjusted the greatsword against his shoulder. "For a college mage I mean," he smirked, and made for the cart behind her.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies ruffled Lily's scaly head, chuckling at how the fish-hound's thick tail slapped against the ground. "There, there. I'm alright." She paused then, and glanced at the blade lodged in her hand. It really was an awful sight. "Or... I will be, I hope."

Leaving the knife in was the last thing she wanted. With the brigands gone, the buzz of adrenaline was now fading from her body, and it felt as if she had no strength left. Darkness floated at the edges of her mind and Lechies worried that it would not be long before the rest of her consciousness joined with it. But Garrod was right; the vile weapon kept her blood in her hand for now. She only regretted that she had no magic to aid their task, or the journey to come.

That said, she still had her other hand, and a mostly working body. Lechies stood, swaying slightly, but she found her balance easier than Garrod. She joined him at the wagon.

"I accept your compliment," she replied, tiredness doing little to stem the strength of her smile. "Thank you for granting them clemency. I see why your master entrusted Belephus to you."

Given their general sorry state, repairing the wagon proved to be an extremely simple affair. The axle had never been broken as their ambushers had claimed, only a few pins removed to loosen the wheels. The missing pieces they found in the dirt nearby and saw the wheels properly re-attached and locked in. Doubtless Wilhemina and her cohorts had originally planned to take the wagon back with them, laden down with ill-begotten loot.

Instead, it became Garrod and Lechies's salvation. The bear-bounty, now properly heavy again, went into the back of the wagon along with Lily, who promptly laid herself out onto the pelt for a snooze, evidently believing she'd earned the seat after her part in the battle. Lechies coaxed the ox's cooperation with a handful of dried fruit from her pack, and together, she and Garrod hitched the animal to the wagon.

Exhausted, they rumbled back onto the main road, and from there, went in search of help. Lechies drifted in and out of awareness a few times, curled up in the wagon bed near Lily, but by the position of the sun, they must not have had to travel for long before they happened upon a hamlet.

The herdsman who spotted their wagon rolling up the road raised a hand in greeting, thinking them traders, but the moment he realized their injuries, went sprinting off to fetch the local healer. The white-haired, steel-eyed woman who returned with him ushered Garrod and Lechies into her hut for treatment, while the herdsman's brother promised to look after the ox and their belongings. The bruises on Garrod's arm and face got a poking and a remark about their ugly purpling color, then received a compress enhanced by ice magic. Lechies, perhaps mercifully, fainted as the knife was finally removed.

She would later awaken in darkness, laying on a cot, moonlight blocked out by a heavy curtain draped over the window. Her left hand was swathed so tightly in bandages that she didn't think she could remove them without the healer's approval, which was probably the point. The bump on her temple no longer hurt, though Lechies couldn't resist prodding at it anyway.

Then her stomach growled. Being hungry was a good sign. Lechies sat up and glanced around the small room, wondering if Garrod was in one of the other cots or if he'd stepped out for food.

"Garrod?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

I see why your master entrusted Belephus to you.

It stunned Garrod to hear it. His eye went wide and large with uncertainty, if but for a moment. He did not refute it. Simply cleared his throat and gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Was there ever any doubt?" He said as he put on an air of confidence. Though even he was want to doubt, from time to time. A snake-like smile spread across his lips, as he set to work. "I'm glad though," he said with a grunt as he laid his sword in the back of the wagon. "To have earned the recognition, of such a prestigious," he grabbed the bear-bounty and hauled it across the ground, closer to the wagon. "Collegiate mind." He paused to rest, his breath heavy as he avoided looking at Lechies.

Now why would she go and say such a cruel thing like that? Belephus whined. All I wanted to do was help you, dear Garrod. Help her too. He tittered his poison sweet titter. Yet you both paint me the villain. You both act as if I did not save you.

The work came, heavy and troublesome. What little strength they had left depleted, grease fire quick. But they got on the road, and while Lechies rested in the back with Lily, the wagon rolled steady down the road, Garrod's eye wide, though sleep did pull at its lid, begging it to shut.

Garrod looked back, and saw the mage sleep, fitful and pain filled sleep. He frowned and turned back to the road as it wound ahead of them and the fields rolled on. How endless they felt. "Now you say nothing," he muttered low and to himself.

Now you want me?

Garrod clicked his teeth. When did he start talking to it, he wondered.
------


The healer was no stranger to the art of the haggle, and Garrod felt that she knew they were in dire straights. "What of your oath?" He had asked her before her powers had been administered.

"And what oath is that, pray tell?"

Garrod's brow scrunched with anger, but when he flexed his arm to move it, pain flared hot and angry and he sucked air in through his teeth. "Don't healers have an oath? Or a pledge they make to a patron god?"

She poked his arm, and he recoiled immediately. "The only oath I have is to the people of our village. Now, you can share them spoils you have, or I can leave your arm that horrid shade of purple there." She poked him again, and he yelped.

"Ok, ok! Two scales and the bear meat."

She smirked, wide and pleased. "Couldn't last another few days without that arm being treated, eh boy?"

Garrod scowled. "I'm no boy,"

She poked his arm again. He flinched back, held back the tears in his eyes. "You are a boy to me, boy," she cleared her throat, and took out the compress, the jar it was held in was marked with blue runes. When she popped the cork on it, frigid vapors poured from its mouth. "Take this, and rub it onto your arm. Don't be stingy with it," she poured out a long bead of the stuff, splayed across two fingers and rubbed it on his discolored muscles. "You have to work it into the muscles good, understand?"

Garrod nodded silently, his eyes shut tight as tears welled at the corner of his eye. "I understand."

"Good!" She slipped her fingers off, corked the bottle, and handed it to him. "Now, let's get rid of that knife!"
-----

Bandages were wrapped firmly around Garrod's injured arm, the limb rested in a loose sling as he milled about the hamlet. The moon hung high in the night sky, large and round and yellow. When was the last time he had stopped to look at the full moon, he wondered. His hot breath steamed in the cold air. He should have been resting. But sleep did not come easy for him after the day's events.

Mercy. Though she had used the word clemency. That meant mercy, right? That is all he had shown the brigand. Wilhemina. Worse than most monsters he had faced, that one. Deadlier, in every sense of the word. Yet he let her go. Showed her clemency. He could have let Belephus take her, and the world would likely be a safer place for it. One less highway boss, leading her goons to to take from travelers on the road.

Belephus. He had packed the gauntlet away. But even with it gone, his arm free, he could feel its presence take up so much space in his mind.

A night bird gave its low hoots, and Garrod was brought out of his daze. A loud growl came from his stomach. "Must be hungry," he said to himself, and he went back to the healer's hut.
----

He heard his name called out from behind the door, and poked his head through to the room. "Lechies?" he replied, and worked his way in. He had a pair of wooden bowls in each hand, and some hunks of bread poked out of each serving. "You have impeccable timing, mistress mage," he teased lightly as he entered the room. He walked over to her cot, and let a bowl down on a little crooked stool by her bedside. "The healer cooked up some bear stew," he said as he stepped away. "Even has some mushrooms and potato in it," he smiled at her. "Glad to see you're awake. " he said as he sat down in the cot across from hers. "Had me a little worried when you were dozing off in the cart, " he said, with a far off look in his eye.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

A shadow briefly filled the doorway before moving inside the room. It was too dark for Lechies to see, but she could smell the stew, something hearty and surely nutritious. She pressed a hand to her empty belly as footsteps and the creak of wood indicated Garrod taking a seat across from her.

"The day's excitement was too much for me, but I feel better now after a proper nap," she chuckled. "Thank you for bringing me a bowl. I assume our friend of the forest donated the meat?"

Lechies paused then. Even knowing that the knife was gone, and her body had had time to recover from the magekiller toxin, there was still a flicker of fear there, a worry that permanent damage had been done to her ability to cast magic. Yet, when she summoned a werelight, the release of mana was as easy and natural as it had ever been. She relaxed, and a flick of her hand sent the werelight up towards the ceiling. Its glow washed the small resting room over in a soft and gentle light, illuminating its four cots, a squat shelf filled with bottles, and-

"Oh, hello."

Lily emerged from beneath Lechies's cot. She stretched herself with a gargling kind of rumble, pink scales shimmering, before she waddled over to Garrod and lifted her snout. The look in her eyes was expectant.

Lechies smiled. "You've an admirer, it seems. Or a solicitor."

She brought the stool closer and leaned over it, spooning the stew to help it cool. Puffs of delicious steam wafted against her face. If Garrod wasn't here, Lechies might have been tempted to just tear into her food, manners and dignity be damned.

Instead she let the companionable silence sit between them as they enjoyed their meal. It was awkward, being unable to steady the bowl with a second hand, but in that respect, at least it was a problem for both of them. Lechies's sling was tighter than Garrod's, her left hand all but pinned against her body, a reminder that the limb was out of commission. At least it wasn't her dominant hand that had suffered the injury.

"Don't we look like quite the pair," Lechies said after a while, laughter in her eyes. "Anyway, how are you feeling now? Mistress Agnes was rather rough with you earlier, from what little I can recall of the afternoon. Did you sleep at all?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod nodded, as he blew on a spoonful of stew. "Aye," he said between breaths. "We have some of him left over too, set it to salt and smoke after you, well, took your nap." He smiled some in the dark. "So it should be ready as jerky for the road tomorrow." He took a spoonful of the soup in, tasted the rich fattiness of the bear, the earthiness of the mushrooms, and the starch from the potatoes. "Needs a little pepper, I think," he said softly to himself.

The werelight came to life and his eye blinked back against the change. He adjusted quickly, and he watched as the delicate glow went on up to the ceiling and cast out to paint the room around them. Something about its softness, the way it illuminated the room, soothed him. Helped ease the weariness he hid inside his chest.

Lily emerged from her hidey hole and his eye looked down to regard the creature as it waddled over. Her funny strut, and pug eyes warmed him too. And in a sing-song voice he said, "Yeah, you took a nap too, didn't you?" and he scratched under her scaly chin with his good hand as the fish-hound raised her snout. Her tail wagged about, and her hind foot smacked against the floorboards with nail-tacked slaps.

What an odd day. He found himself thinking as the garr-hound settled at his feet, and they went on eating. Quiet, in the warm little room.

Lechies spoke, and he looked up at her, spoon still in his mouth. She looked happy, despite all the chaos they'd endured. "Aye," he said after he passed down a chunk of soft steamy potato. "An odd couple, if I've ever seen one." He tapped his arm with the spoon. "Fate even took our lefts, funny thing it is." She asked about him, how he felt, if he had slept.

Yes, tell us. Did you sleep well?

His brow formed a scowl, the warmth of the room suddenly cold around him. "Can't say I have," he said, the warmth of his voice waned some. "I... I guess the bruising has just been bothering me too much," he lied. And he took another spoonful of stew. It didn't taste as good as it had a moment before. "I'm surprised you remembered me getting bandaged up," he said, smirk crooked the corner of his mouth.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Something in his voice made Lechies's spoon pause on the way to her mouth, and she returned it to the bowl as she glanced up from her meal. It was a smirk he wore, yes. But...

She had some experience with weaving half-truths, and hiding the rest of the facts behind a gentle, friendly smile. Lechies meant no harm by it. Deception was a necessary skill when one carried a demon inside them. There was something about his expression that reminded her of the careful masks she sometimes wore, too.

"I admit, I don't remember much from earlier. Just our arrival in the hamlet; those two herdsmen; a trace of magic in that unguent she gave you," Lechies listed off. "The rest of it's fuzzy. I think my brain may be trying to protect me from the memory of that knife being wiggled out of my hand... Anyway, if your arm still hurts tomorrow, I'm sure Mistress Agnes can take another look."

Lechies hesitated, spoon turning idly around in the stew. "Are you certain it's just your arm that bothers you? I worry that... Well, there are creatures -- beings beyond mortality -- that specialize in influencing people's subconscious minds. Some of the higher classes of undead, for example, or spirits that reside in magic-rich places. Demons, too."

She paused, uncertain how much more she should say. How much to reveal. "I'm not sure what your gauntlet draws its power from, but I could feel its pull on my mind when we first met. What I felt then was not dissimilar from these beings I mentioned. And perhaps it's not my place, but I'm concerned for you, Garrod, and what it means to wear such armor."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Half dazed as she had been, poisoned knife lodged into her hand, she was still able to keep enough clarity to remember all of that, huh?

She sees right through you, you know?

Yet she did not press his lie. Only offered a straight forward answer. A logical and helpful conclusion.

And what, prey tell, sweet Garrod, would be the conclusion she would arrive at once she knows you've been corrupted? He could here Belephus laugh. You do not wear me, even, yet you hear my sweet nothings in the darkness of your mind.

He did not eat as she spoke and all the room around him seeming grey, sapped of all the warmth that had swirled around but a moment ago. A pang of...fear? Guilt? Shame? A pang of cold in his chest as she asked her question. Spoke of beings that influenced the mind. Thinking.

What do you think happens to those people, Garrod? She is from the finest magical institution in the land. Her family has a legacy to uphold. A long and throaty hmm sounded in his mind. She has her honor to think of. Her duty. A cackle, cruel and gleeful.

She was concerned for him. He could see it. He could feel it. Distant as it was in that moment.

She will lock you away, Garrod. Turn you in for study. The brigand saw what you were in true, my boy, and the mage will too if you tell her too much.

"I..." He said, choked by a fog so thick in his mind he could not find the next word to say. Flashes of that pale glow. The eye within his eye. The ritual, all those years ago. Nine turned to three, turned to one. He had marked him.

And without me, you cannot see when he comes. And, sweet boy, you know too well that he will come to collect. A laugh. Tittering. Teasing. His final piece of nine.

His face cracked into a horrid smile. A sick and hollow thing. "I'm sorry, I, I need to step outside." He got up, injured hand unable to hold onto the bowl of stew which fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Lily snapped in fright and sprung to her feet and Garrod stopped, looked at the mess, at the hound, at Lechies, and left the room.

Lily hurried after him, but the door closed shut behind him. The fish-hound whimpered and scratched at the door. It did not open. She whined and turned back and waddled her way to Lechies, snout searching for comfort.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

His bowl of stew crashed to the floor.

"But- Garrod, wait-"

Lechies reached out, a futile attempt to stop him, and hurriedly moved her own bowl aside. But with only one working hand available, even that motion was uncoordinated and ultimately too slow. By the time she was able to stand, the door had already closed.

Seems it wasn't her place to mention, after all.

Lechies blew out a sigh and sank back down onto the cot. Lily shuffled closer, eyes as round and bright as any puppy's. Lechies gave the worried fish-hound a gentle scratch on the head.

"Shh, it's alright. He just needs space, I think."

Just space, far away from the nosy looks and questions of an odd College wizard he'd met not even a day ago in the middle of the forest. It was true enough that they'd worked together to catch a wayward garr-hound and then thwart an attempted ambush by roadside bandits, but the alliance had been one forged out of necessity. Out of coin at first, and then the mutual need to survive. Could she honestly say they were close, just based on those two experiences? Close enough to pry into his personal business?

Close enough that Lechies wouldn't also have sought escape if he was the one asking uncomfortable questions about her own demon?

No. At the end of the day, the two of them were strangers.

Lechies sighed again, a heavier one this time. She nudged Lily's head off her lap and stood.

"Come on, I need to get this cleaned up. I don't suppose you'd be willing to help?" She gave the garr-hound a small, sad smile. "Would be a shame to let this stew go to waste."

------​

Lechies didn't see Garrod again that night. If he eventually came back to sleep, she wasn't awake to notice, and by the time she blinked her eyes open to morning birdsong, the cot across from hers was cold, its blanket smoothed.

When she ventured into the clinic's main room, Agnes was there to give her a look that made Lechies wonder if the old healer had gotten the wrong idea about her and Garrod's relationship. Thankfully, Agnes refrained from commenting on her suspicions, only examined Lechies's hand again before wrapping it in a fresh set of bandages and giving her a looser sling.

"No sign of infection. It should heal up fine. Won't be a problem for spellcasting as long as you let the hand rest for at least another 10 days."

Lechies bowed her head. "I understand. Thank you, Mistress Agnes."

"No need for thanks. You're paying me, after all." The old woman's steely eyes twinkled. "I made porridge. Eat up before you leave; you need the strength, from the look of you. Skinny as a twig and about as easy to snap."

"Er... yes, Mistress Agnes."

After breakfast, Agnes pointed out the way to Milo's, the herdsman's brother who was looking after the wagon. Lechies thanked him as well, and thanked him again for taking such good care of the ox, who had already received his morning meal of oats and an apple. The bear-bounty from the previous day looked to be in order, minus whatever Lechies assumed had been negotiated as payment to the healer.

"Gonna set off once your buddy gets here, I reckon," said Milo, crouched by Lily as he gave the garr-hound a good scratch beneath her chin.

"Yes, about that. We missed each other this morning, I'm afraid. Have you seen him?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Maybe it was the fleshy tendrils that hung from her snout, like the whiskers of a cat-fish, or perhaps an innate sensitivity born in the garr-hound, but she seemed to sense Lechie's sadness behind the smile. A wet whimper coming from her throat as she nuzzled closer to the mage.
-----

Garrod stepped away from the room with quick, long strides. His boots knocked against the wood floor of the hut with a dramatic purpose. His things were packed in the living space, well, what few things he had left. Armor and sword, belt and pouches. Not much, but he was no stranger to traveling light. He bent low and like a man possessed, he fumbled with the straps of his kit, eye bleary with fat wet tears that clung to its corners.

"And what, in bloody hell, do you think you are doing, boy?" Agnes growled from her seat, far in some corner with a large bowl of stew in her lap.

But Garrod did not answer. His hand went on and stumbled in its futile attempt to undo the belts and buckles of his armor, all the while his wounded left arm screamed in pained protest as he jerked at the leather binds with an increasing desperation.

"I know you are missing an eye," she said as she got out of her seat. "But i didn't realize you had gone deaf as well!" She stepped over to him sure and fast, and thwacked him upside the head with her wooden spoon. "Don't you go ignoring me, boy!"

Garrod turned, wild look upon his face, teeth bared, but Agnes did not flinch. Her eyes steel against his sick flame. "I..." He muttered from his throat.

Agnes slapped him with the stew-stained spoon next, turning his cheek. "You what?"

He grumbled, and glared at her again, tears rolling down the side of his face as he rubbed the red mark now printed across his stew-smeared cheek. But the wild look was gone.

"Going to just up and leave eh?" She wagged the spoon at him. "Grab up your things and go in the night?" She hissed. The cookfire still cracked and popped and hissed behind her, the orange and gold light and the dark shadows cast about her made her look like a giant. She huffed. "You are in no condition to leave, boy." She turned away, and walked back to her chair. "Take a walk, get some air, but don't go abandoning people just because you get scared," She sat down, heavy in her seat, and took a spoonful of the stew. "Ain't no way to live."

"What do you know," he answered, childish as he looked away.

"That and plenty more, son. You can go in the morning if you like, but least give yourself that much time to think things through."

Garrod looked down at his hands, and saw the pale white of the armor. The pale sick glow of the opalescent eye and the half strapped bindings forced around his wounded arm. He had tried to force himself back into Belephus, and he could see the demon smiling gleeful in the gauntlet.
-----

Milo shrugged. "He came by this morn, asked about the going rate for bear furs, and then buggered off," the herdsman finished his scritches for the hound, and slapped his hands onto his knees before he pushed himself up. "Left that damn creepy gauntlet of his in the back of cart though," he said with a jab of his thumb over his shoulder.

Belephus rested in the back of the wagon cart and its naked eye gleamed expectant in the soft light of morning.

"Oh, speak of a demon and they shall appear," Milo peered out, and in the distance there bounced a white mess of hair, "That's him right there, isn't it?" He asked, and pointed out at the road.

When he neared, Garrod kept his eye down. "Morning," he said, voice short. His arm was still bandaged in the old treatment, and he looked as if he'd slept out under a log somewhere, but he carried a new pack upon his back. "Had to go and get the bear jerky," he said as he hefted it off of his shoulder and tossed it into the back of the cart. He worked his sword off too, but still avoided Lechie's gaze.

"Well... I'll be going now," Milo said, and slinked away.

Lily waddled over to him, and nuzzled the side of his leg. He tried to ignore her, but the fish-dog was insistent. He stopped, lowered down, and pet her soft against the snout. "Good morning to you too." A bubbly rumble roiled in the fish-hound's throat, as she blinked her big bug eyes shut. Garrod slowed his pets. "I..." the words stuck in his throat again, and he could feel his pulse quicken. "I'm... sorry about the mess last night." He smiled, sad and small. "I should've came back to clean it up."

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies's eyes started to follow the line of Milo's thumb before a familiar cloudy jewel glinted from the corner of her vision. She hurriedly returned her attention to the plain, safe wooden sideboard of the wagon.

Well, if he'd left his gauntlet here, then Garrod likely hadn't gone far. Hadn't run away in the middle of the night...

'Speak of a demon-'

There was no time to wonder at Milo's choice of phrase. Lechies turned and -- indeed, there was the hunter, coming up the road.

"Good morning." She tried to catch Garrod's gaze, but it was like grabbing at a river fish with only her bare hands, slippery and quick, darting between her fingers. Grabbing at something that didn't want to be caught. "Right, the jerky. Thank you for preparing that..."

She trailed off as the load of dried meat went into the wagon. Distantly, Lechies heard Milo excuse himself but couldn't rightly be annoyed at the man for leaving this awkwardness behind him. She looped the ox's reins around her arm, absentmindedly running her hand over the creature's snout as she watched Garrod spare some affection for Lily.

"Oh, don't worry about the mess." He still wouldn't meet her eyes. Lechies finally gave up and lowered her own, staring at the imprint of Garrod's boots in the dirt. "It was easy enough to clean, with Lily's help. Seems she has a liking for bear meat. Her owner would probably be interested to hear that."

The ox nudged at her hip, probably hoping for more dried fruits. Lechies gently pushed him away. "Are you... Are you feeling better now? After your walk last night? I'm terribly sorry if I brought up anything you'd rather not speak about. If it's alright with you, please just forget I ever said a word."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"I'm glad," He answered, though there was little there in his voice. He ruffled the scales and bumpies atop Lily's head, but she moved off from him there-after, and padded about, toward the ox and toward Lechies. "That it wasn't too much trouble," he managed to say. He got up and looked to Lechies, saw her busy with the ox. He wanted to say... he wasn't really sure what he wanted to say. There was so much he could say.

Thank you for caring. Thank you for not pressing me. Thank you for giving me space. Thank you for smiling so easily last night. Thank you for... trying to help me. To name but a few things that could be said.

Instead, what his brain decided to communicate to his tongue and out of his mouth was. "It had a lot of fat in it," a pause. He turned red in the face and looked away, and made himself busy. He hopped up into the back of the wagon, and began to better pack the supplies.

His sword put against the wall, the bear stuff packed closer together. Had to make sure they had enough room to rest, and Belephus-

"Are you... are you feeling better now?" She asked.

His eye was locked onto the Demon's jewel. Last night, he had tried to force it back onto his arm. Through all the pain and agony it had caused him, tears running down his face, he had been strapping it back on.

That's because you know only I can help you, Garrod. Truly, and utterly, keep you safe from him.

Lechies voice sounded distant.As if she were on a shore, and he far adrift at sea. "After your walk last night?"

Tell her, Garrod. Tell her why you wear me. Go on. Let her know why you keep me so close after all these years.

"if I brought up anything you'd rather not speak about."

Let her know how you ran that day.

Garrod blinked. Slow, and in a daze.

"Please,"

Let her know what you ran from.

He heard her through the din and haze that was the demon's due.

"Just forget I ever said a word."

Let her know how scared you really are.

Quickly and suddenly, Garrod snatched up Belephus, as if a viper rearing to strike, and turned it about, shoving the jewel down against the wood of the cart with an angry clack. His breathing was heavy, and he stood up and hopped out of the cart with a thump against the floor.

"We should get going," he said, and began to hitch the Ox.
----

They rode in relative silence once they rolled out from the Hamlet. Though the day was bright, and the fields rolled gold and tranquil, there was no comment of birdsong, or laughter shared over the clouds and their funny shapes. Just the steady tumble of the wagon wheels, bumping and creaking across the dirt and the gravel as the Ox clopped on forward.

Occasionally, Lily would perk up and bark her drowned bark at some stray creature that skittered out of the grass, inspiring Garrod to smile some. Only to have himself remember how fowl he had been the night before, and how hard Lechies had tried to reach out to him, even just this morning.

And there were the whispers. Occasional, brief. Just enough to remind him of his reality. Just enough to keep him quiet as their cart rolled along.

They stopped to rest. Feed the ox. Feed Lily. Eat. He helped her mount and dismount the cart when needed on account of the arm, but it was all in the same suffocating silence. Until Vallond rolled into view, and they found themselves before Knoxley, dressed in garish golds and purples, plumes of rare birds adding extra spectacle to his attire .

"Oh, Lily!" Knoxley exclaimed at the site of her. But, Lily didn't seem none-too pleased to see the eccentric collector of wild things. And while he threw himself at her, wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug. She just sort of sat there and blinked as she took it all in.

"Oh, thank you so much for bringing her back! And I see you brought a friend a long as well! No matter," he reached into his coat pocket, and retrieved a fat purse which sagged in the palm of his hand . "A deal is a deal, here is your rewar- wait... is that a scar on her snout?!" He glared up at the two adventurers turned pet-retrievers. "Did you have my Lily fighting wild animals?!" He asked red in the face. "You were supposed to retrieve my baby, not put her in harms way! Oh... oh my! Is that blood between her scales?"

Lily blinked.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

They should get going.

He took the reins from her arm, and moved to hitch the ox to the wagon, all the while still refusing to meet her gaze. Lechies opened her mouth -- but changed her mind, and shut her jaw tight. She closed her eyes.

He'd only done what she gave him permission to -- forget she'd ever said a word.

"Right," she replied. She dropped her staff and pack into the wagon, then began a dignified attempt at climbing aboard with only the one hand. "Vallond shouldn't be far now. I expect we'll arrive before dark."

------​

The silence between them was not so companionable now. Looking back, Lechies would not be able to remember if she ever did end up catching Garrod's eye. The morning stretched on and on, as endless as the expanse of blue sky above them, the constant clattering drone of wagon wheels threatening to put her back to sleep.

At some point Lily began to fidget, nosing hopefully at their stock of bear jerky, so though Lechies wasn't hungry and Garrod had made no similar complaint known, they stopped to have the noonday meal. When Garrod helped her back onto the wagon, she answered the kindness with a quiet murmur of thanks.

It would be the last thing she spoke until they arrived in Vallond. Lechies provided directions to Knoxley's shop with a flat "straight ahead" or "turn left here".

Knoxley was too overjoyed at his garr-hound's return to really notice their lethargic state, which was probably for the best. However, when his delight morphed into indignation, Lechies could not deny the brief spark of annoyance that lit in her belly. He had no idea what they had suffered for his quest, and not just the wounds that lay beneath their bandages. Still, he was their client, so she swallowed her anger and slipped on her usual mask of politeness.

"Honored merchant, your Lily was lost in the wilderness for nearly three days. We found her deep in Sulmer Woods. If anything, she put herself in harm's way, wandering into a place called home by wolves and bears." Lechies's tone was serene, speaking with the patience of an adult explaining to a child why the ground became wet after it rained. "As it happens, she was on the wrong end of a horned's bear's wrath, but we ended her adversary before worse could be done.

"And the blood isn't hers. We were set upon by bandits on the journey back." Lechies shrugged her left shoulder, the sling knotted above it, proof of their trials. "Lily defended herself admirably. You were right, you know -- she's very smart."

Knoxley straightened, trying to maintain his air of dissatisfaction even as a smile threatened to twitch onto his lips, proud at the compliment for his pet. "W-Well, the least you could've done is give her a bath after all that savagery. And I see no one bothered to polish her scales, either! No common sense, sellswords. But... she did return to me safe, so I can't say you didn't do the job I gave you."

Knoxley shook his head, but offered out the sagging pouch of silver coins. Lechies motioned for it to be handed to Garrod.

"Thank you," he said. "I believe that concludes our business, then. Unless you've any interest in a rare and exotic pet of your own?"

"Not at present, but perhaps in the future."

Lechies peered down at Lily. The garr-hound sensed that their parting was near, eyes big and wet, a soft whimper echoing from her throat. Lechies smiled sadly, passed her staff into the crook of her elbow, and held out her hand. Lily licked at her gloved fingers, then shuffled over to Garrod for the same final show of fondness. Knoxley seemed surprised by her affection.

"Very well. Good day to you, Miss and Mister Adventurer."

Leading a reluctant Lily by her leash, the merchant disappeared inside his shop. Lechies could only stand and stare for a moment, the front of the building splashed with colors as gaudy as the owner's choice of clothing.

The ox mooed behind them, still hitched to the wagon.

"You're welcome to keep the reward," Lechies finally said, eyes still pointed to the front. Away from Garrod. "All of it. The truth is, Knoxley provided an advance payment when I took on his request, and my finances are secure enough anyway."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod reached out and took the pay. It slapped against his palm, and he weighed it, out of habit, as he brought it back to his chest. It felt about right. Though little else did. A pretty purse for ugly work.

When Knoxley gave his thanks, along with a sales pitch, Garrod nodded no to the exuberant merchant.

Lily whimpered, and waddled toward them. Said her goodbye to Lechies, then sniffed at Garrod’s direction. The sellsword smirked a sad little smirk down at her large watery eyes, and he bent down toward the garr-hound, reached back into his pocket and pulled out a bit of bear jerky. He snuck into her snout and he gave her a pet.

“She likes fatty red meat,” he said up to Knoxley, though he doubted he would listen. “And boysenberry jam,”

Knoxley said good day, pulled Lily behind him, and was gone into the darkness of his shop, the color of gilded vomit.

Lechies spoke, and Garrod turned his head to peer at her as she dismissed him with the entirety of the bounty. He picked up the coin sack he’d strung to his belt. Measured it again.

“That’s not what we had agreed upon, Mistress Mage,” he said in a voice that was colder than he had intended. But it had come out. He cleared his throat and stood taller as he turned his eye away from her and onto the glass windows of the shop. There stood two distorted reflections of themselves. “350 for me, 150 for you, plus half of the bear stuffs.” He said too stiffly. As if he had touched a hot iron, his eye flinched down to the purse at his hip. He held the sack open and his brow knit together as he struggled to count the coins. His right arm strained to move as nimbly as he remembered it could. And even his fingers seemed to strain and tense with each small pull of silver bit.

After moment too long, he’d plucked the strings of coin together, and let them slip into his own purse, then offered the rest to Lechies. “The bear stuffs will take a day or two to move for a good price,” he peeked toward her again, cautious and guarded. “And... then there is the cart.”

 

[Lechies Delrio]

“That’s not what we had agreed upon."

There was fight in his tone, eerily reminiscent of their first meeting back in the forest, when Garrod had still thought Lechies to be a rival hunter trying to steal his prize out from under his nose. Lechies glanced at him sharply. For the briefest of moments, she almost -- almost caught his eye. But his attention continued moving, onto the shop's windows, its panes too darkened to see anyone or anything inside. Only barely had they missed each other, like two ships passing on a foggy night.

Lechies's gaze dropped to the pouch as he counted out coins, visibly struggling with the task but clearly intent on following through. In the face of such obstinance, how was she supposed to argue?

"... Alright."

The string of silver Lechies accepted, nudging her cloak aside to tuck the money into an inner pocket. She passed her staff back into her hand as she looked to the meat and bones and fur stacked in the wagon. Her brow wrinkled in thought, even as the rest of her flinched at how business-like their interactions had become.

"The vast majority of my spells don't require reagents. I have little experience haggling for the price of animal goods," she said. "And it makes more sense for you to have the wagon. I can always use magic to lighten my burdens, but you would have to make do with... without me. If you don't want to keep it, I'm sure the Adventurer's Guild would be delighted by a donation."

She sighed deeply, then turned her head to the far end of the street, where the noise and bustle of gathered merchants drifted from Vallond's market square.

"Shall we meet again in two days' time, then? Outside the Flying Snake inn, just past noon?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

He nodded in agreement. "I'm no stranger to working alone," he muttered as he turned his head in the opposite direction, back to the windows and the darkness of their glass. Even now, she offered solutions to his problems. He nodded again, unable to bring himself to say anything more.

A heavy sigh left her, and while they both stood so close, it all felt so far away.

"Two days time at noon," he agreed, and turned toward the cart and the ox who waited so patiently. "I should have everything sold by then, and maybe those antlers will make all this worth our trouble." He intended it to be funny. But it didn't sound funny to his own ear. "I'll... see you at the inn." he glanced to her again, briefly before he walked off toward the cart.
----
Two days had passed, and Garrod sat atop the wagon, hunched forward as his eye glanced about the faces that passed on by. Most ignored him, some sneered, and a select few glared, not keen on catching the attention of a one eyed stranger. He had fetched good prices for most of the wares, especially the horns.

As the people went by, he leaned back, watched the ox swish its tail and chew its cud. "Patient as ever, aren't you?" He sighed, and went on waiting well past noon. He counted the coins one by one, three by three, and five by five. Stacked them up, played with them one at a time. All the while the sun went on sailing across the sky. Slow as it sunk ever so toward the horizon.

The ox let out a long and low moo that sounded over the bustle of townsfolk walking about and travelers carousing out of the Inn.

"Yeah," Garrod said pathetically, and glanced back at the bed of the wagon cart. "I don't think she is coming either." He took the reins in his one good hand and slowly fed them into the healing other. He snapped the reins gently against the ox. The wagon wheels rumbled, and the cart rattled. His sword and armor muffled by a horned-bear-cloak, much too small for him.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

"Wait, mister! Wait!"

A voice called out to Garrod as the wagon started to clatter down the road. If he turned around, he'd find a girl sprinting towards him, tugging a younger boy along behind her. They looked to be siblings, their hair the same wheat blond and freckles dusting both their faces.

"Wait a minute! Got a message for ya!"

They rounded by the cart, breathing hard, barefoot, clothes careworn with large patches on their elbows and knees. The girl pulled her brother in front of her, and the boy looked like he'd rather be anywhere than here. She flashed Garrod a grin.

"Alright there, mister? Sorry for yellin', but my brother's got a message to give ya. Got it from some lady this mornin' -- promised to hand it over to a 'one-eyed fella with a great bleedin' sword and hair like milk', but y'know what," she gave her brother a shake even as her hands remained locked on his shoulders, her eyes iron-sharp and angry, "here the sun's 'bout to fall down and I'm findin' out he took the lady's silver but ain't handed on the message yet. Must've forgot somehow. Got cheese for brains, my brother."

The boy fidgeted in his sister's hold, eyes on his bare feet.

She went on. "But our Ma taught us to keep our promises, so he's here now to keep his. Go on. Give the mister the lady's message."

He thrust out a sheet of parchment. From the looks of things, it had probably spent the better part of the day crumpled in someone's pocket. Once unfurled, Garrod would find a brief letter penned in neat, flowing script.


Garrod,

Forgive me, but I won't be coming to the Flying Snake. I leave all profits from our 'friend' with you. Please accept it as my heartfelt apology for prying into your affairs.

May the gods keep you always.

-Lechies Delrio


"We didn't read it," the girl promised, "mostly 'cause we, uh, can't read. But also 'cause it ain't nice to nose into what's goin' on with a man and his lady."

"Already said I was sorry..." the boy mumbled. "Don't see the big deal 'bout takin' some rich lady's money anyway..."

The girl's grip on his shoulders tightened, and the boy yelped, buckling. She pretended not to notice.

"Anyway, that's it. You have a good one, mister!"

The two youths vanished back into the crowd, the older pulling the younger by the ear.