Fate - First Reply The Journey to Elbion

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Al'qadim Zulfiqar

The Warden
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The former Lord of House Tal'deneshaar rode in silence along the road. He had departed the desert dwellers, the animals, that only dreamed of watching the world burn. He had tried to prevent it, but he failed. His armor of old had long since been hidden and the only item he bore that couldn't potentially identify him was his sword. But he was discreet. He was incognito.

In the years since he had built a small following, all of which he had sent ahead to aid the once great city in its rebuilding. He had needed time, he had needed peace. And it was something only solace on the road could provide.

His journey had started with him heading north from Ragash alongside the Baal-asha and nearing the end of that track before he cut east, just south of Lazular and made way for the Cairou. This break would mark about halfway on his journey and though his heart called him home to Vel Anir and to Caer Tal'deneshaar, his duty kept him on his current path.

There was still good he could do and much work that could be done to enhance the lives of the people in Elbion. He had so far avoided many of Gerra's armies, but who knew what he could come across on the road.
 
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A whistle trilled through the mid-day air, rising with the heat and mirages sprinkling the sand-stacked horizon. It was a whimsical tune, with no real rhyme or reason or consistent tempo, but the voice that made it was pretty.

Avveline Voxinium trekked the unforgiving desert trail without any real sense of urgency, hands waving back and forth, free of the sleeves of her robes, which fluttered in the hot gusts of air that passed by. A dark hood, the only thing keeping her outerwear attached to her, was pulled up to shade her silver locks and pale skin from the merciless sun. She could feel beads of sweat roll from her scalp down her face, dripping from her nose and chin and cheeks, soaking the short-cropped shirt she wore underneath her robes.

This route didn't seem familiar. Perhaps she'd never passed this way on her travels to Elbion. Not that she'd remember either way. Sometimes she got feelings, ghosts of long-lost memories, and sometimes she didn't. But she did know she'd been there at least, Elbion, a place for the magically inclined. And on a whim, she decided to make the trip.

She stopped, cocking her head. Was that... Ah, yes, the sounds of pounding hooves. An approaching horse! Just one. She strained her ears and nodded to herself. It was a bigger steed, likely carrying a large rider, and plenty of gear besides. A fat merchant? No, they'd have a wagon. Perhaps a man carrying his meager life's possessions, or maybe a warrior with weapons or armor.

She shrugged to herself and turned, deciding her eyes would serve better than her ears. Her arm came up, waving when they appeared.

She carried no weapons and wasn't big or intimidating. Quite the opposite, if one wasn't intimidated by an obvious mage. The arm, however, may be cause for pause. It was not normal. Black as Lessat's eclipse and pulsing with a dull, deep green where lines ran up and down it like the veins of a golem.
 
Up ahead, he heard the sound of whistling carried upon the desert winds. It was no song he had ever heard before, but it was pleasant enough all the same. After a couple more moments, he would pull up on the source: a very short woman.

Clad in the light leather armor favored by those of the desert warriors, the only visible weapon was the sword at his back. His black dreds were graying, a sign of his age and any exposed skin was covered in thick scars. And yet, he still bore a smile on his lips.

The arm also didn't unnerve him. Years of travel had led him to see many things. He would slow his courser to slow walk. "M'lady. These roads are unsafe to walk alone. Armies are mobilizing and often with ill intent." One hand would reach forward to per the neck of his mount, before he lifted one leg over the courser's head and twisted his body into a dismount. "I urge you to quit these lands."

Avveline
 
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As the gentleman came to stand on the earth, she offered a curtsy and a small bow of her head.

“Well met, ser,” she replied, giving the same level of courtesy and respect. When she raised her head, she was smiling.

“Ah yes, Amol-Kalit is often broiled in the flames of war, or so I’ve heard,” she replied cheerfully, a hand coming up with one finger pointing up, her head cocking to one side. “Ah, but then, what brings you this way, as keenly aware of the dangers, ser…” she inquired, her sentence trailing off and implying she wished to know his name. “Oh! I forget my manners,” she interrupted her own question with a start.


The woman bowed her head in a curtsy once more. “I am Avveline, Avveline Voxinium, a simple scholar,” she introduced herself while droplets of sweat fell from her brow to be greedily swallowed up by the sand below.

She stood back up, clasping both hands behind her back and stretching up onto her tippy toes to peer up at the stranger. Her Emerald green eyes studied him. Countenance, posture, and whatever reflections of character his gaze might reveal to her. It was almost unsettling, like she was trying to unravel him and see how he ticked with only a look.

“I am on my way to Elbion, I do not plan to linger here for long,” she assured him, smile bright and honest.
 
The woman seemed young and very cheerful. An oddity for the desert. At her own mirroring of his question, he offered a smile. "I am quitting these lands. I was hired for a job and it was finished."

He would continue to pet his coursers neck. "Well met, Lady Avveline Voxinium, scholar. I am Al'qadim Valar, a mercenary. And he, is Drokka." He would say of his horse. "He is quick to bite strangers if given the chance.. he has lost all the manners instilled into him." He would say with a laugh.

From what her gaze could see, the man would weather it unflinchingly. His face deep scars as expected of a man who had been waging battles for near five decades. Below his right eye was what appeared to be a a star shaped scar, likely from the impact of a flail. His own golden eyes were affixed on hers.

"Elbion.." he would say finally. "Then you may travel with me, if you would like. I am meeting my company there."

Avveline
 
"Well met indeed," she beamed, offering a hand, the one that looked like it belonged to her. If he took it, he would find it to be mostly soft, with callused knuckles and perfectly capable of a firm shake. Not the hand of an idle bookkeeper or sheltered noblewoman.

"Will you be braving the sands on foot with me, or is the feisty Drokka capable of carrying the extra burden?" she asked with a teasing smirk, implying that her meager weight would be any sort of a burden for the steed.

Almost as if taking Al'qadim's words as a challenge, she walked around to the horse, staring him in the eyes with a gentle gaze. "Will you remember your manners for me, naughty Drokka?" she asked the horse in a soft tone, slowly reaching up with her strange arm to give his muzzle a gently pat.
 
Stryfe would take her hand and kiss the back of it gently. A gesture that perhaps exposed some form of nobility, but the hand that took hers was far too calloused for him to live a life of complete comfort. "You may ride him once he's rested. Can't tire him out too much, now. So for now, we will walk." He would say.

Unlike Stryfe, Drokka did not care for the misshapen hand and before she could even pat his muzzle he would go for snap of his jaws. Fortunately, his rider would catch him. "Drokka, no." Drokka would snort in annoyance before shaking his head as Stryfe's gaze shifted to Avveline. "He doesn't like magic."

With that, he would take the reins and continue to walk along the sand. "If you haven't already, fill up on water. Soon we will reach the hardest part of our journey: two days across desert before the next body of water. And we'll need to travel at night while its cooler."

Avveline
 
Avveline let out a small giggle at his gesture. That was certainly something she wasn't used to.

She nodded then. "Of course. I have no qualms with walking, I only wished to not slow you down," she smiled.

When Drokka decided to go for a chomp, the girl made no reaction, expecting it. What she had not expected was Al'qadim's quick reaction, and her expression at it was, rather than gratitude or surprise, disappointment. As if she'd looked forward to being bitten by a strange horse in a strange place.

"I do not blame him. It is natural to dislike that which you cannot understand," she shrugged. "But you are very naughty, Mr. Drokka. Perhaps I can educate you during our journey..." she smirked, making it clear she said so in jest.

She followed behind her much, much larger companion, her steps quick and light to match his much longer ones, and held up a fat waterskin. "Worry not, I am prepared. I was tempted to take a swim, but you seem to be in a hurry, and perhaps I should be as well," she beamed, all jolly and smiles despite the sweat staining her clothes and running down her face. If she was discomforted or unused to this kind of environment, she hid it well.

As they moved along, she continued to hum her song, walking in his shadow when possible. But it was interrupted with a sudden question:

"Tell me, Ser Al'qadim, did you find me agreeable enough, or are you simply confident you can handle me if I turned out to be some sort of assassin or bandit scheming for horses and treasures?" she asked without a hint of hesitation or shame, just pure curiosity.
 
"Only fools wish for speed in the desert. One must be calm, and pace themselves. The heat is a great worry, but exert yourself too much, and you will become another victim to these sands." Stryfe would respond calmly. It did give him some peace seeing she was understanding of Drokka. "He could use some more."

He did pause to look back at her at the mention of a swim. "I will meet you halfway on that. When we stop to water Drokka, which will be soon, we will stop long enough for you to swim. I'll keep watch." While they continued on, she hummed her tune, which once again was cheerful noise in such a terrible desert.

Until that whistle once more paused for her to ask a question. It was a good question. He would look briefly over his shoulder to respond. "Its easier to speak when you walk abreast of each other." He would then gesture for her to step forward, once she did, he would continue. "Neither. I don't worry myself about when my end will arrive, because no matter what I do, it will still find me. I neither welcome it, nor fear it, I have walked these lands for many years and can say I have lived a full life. Nay, my choice for doing so, was you appear to be the age of my children. And if they were traversing a desert, I would hope a companion would join them who harbored no ill will towards them. Regardless of race or station, our duty lies to each other. So if we can even offer a little help to another, we should. Simple as that, Lady Avveline."

Avveline