Welcome to Gaia! ::

"I have a few arrows here if any one wants to catch us some food." Grundus said his head lifted to look every person in the eyes.

He felt many eyes on him, not from the people, but from the forest its self. birds, trees, mice, everything was watching. Grundus felt as if nature its self was waiting to see what would happen next in their story. Grundus felt for his hammer in his bag, he could feel the cloth covered wood handle. It felt comforting and welcoming to him. tears started to swell in his eyes, his unborn child would not have a father, and if it did it would have some stranger as it's father.

Like a strike to the head Grundus' hands hurt. He cursed himself as he held them toward the fire.

He looked about again to see who would catch food.

Grundus smiled at Jacob, "Com'ere and I'll give you a pointer or two." Grundus stood up his hammer pulled his arm down so that he looked slightly hunched.

"Now, here's a sickle sword. A Love of mine, it's meant for fast movement, and for strong swift strikes." Grundus held up a scimitar looking blade. it's cutting edge was inverted though, and the blade was thinner. (here for image)

"You hold it like this." He put the blade in the boy's hand and walked behind him positioning his body as if it were a clay model. The blade's curve went upwards. "You don't need any specific kind of form, basically you just need to swipe, but make sure that..." he paused as he held onto the boys' hands from behind and moved them, twisting the hand with the blade so his wrist was up and the blade was tilted slightly. "... when you strike, your wrist shows upwards and you must follow through the strike." He finished the sideways arc with the boy and blade. "Like so."

Grundus shrugged, "those are the basics, I'll give you more lessons if you want, but I'll wait for another person to join you before you go runnin' off."
Grundus furrowed his brow and looked towards the sky, "What is your name boy?"

Rotan was somewhat startled as Kristalia flipped him over, almost suggesting that he had passed out for that brief moment after he hit the floor. Her face was a blur at first and her initial words were drowned by a ringing in his ears that eventually subsided. Confused, he took the water flask and began to voraciously drink from it. Pausing however, before he consumed more than a mouthful, he took only a single sip more, recalling his manners and refusing to dwindle the limited supply in his haste and exhaustion.

"Thank you... both..."

He offered the water bottle back to Lucrezia and somewhat rhetorically answered the question for Kristalia in a flat low tone.

"I doubt it... they had no problem dispatching me in the end..."

Looking down, almost as if ashamed, Rotan steadied himself such that he was no longer leaning into Kristalia and pulled his hoe close to his shoulder. After a brief moment, he looked to the two women.

"Its good to know that my exile wasn't a mercy conceived from the regret of murder... in other words... I am glad to see that you two are well... at least."

"Hey Sebastian, ya alright ya brat? Ya lookin' a little pale," one of the bandits said as he walked past, a smile on the man's face. He couldn't remember his name, nor did he really care, not now. Not when the b*****d just pointed out a weakness, especially with Rat so close by. The man never could take a joke, only throw a punch. The only thing Sebastian could do to escape the bandits revenge for his last joke was to either play it off, or hope for something in the camp to happen to capture the bandits attention. Even if he did play it off, he'd probably still wake up tied to a tree or with that rat-finked b*****d standing above him. He'd have to hope for the second option.

"I'm fine, it's the winter. Everybody's a little pale, ya moron," he said with a smile on his face, using the charm that made the bandits warm up to him over the years. With that said he didn't wait around, just continued walking by, heading to the fire closest to his own tent. He was almost there when someone had him by the back of his shirt. Of course it was Rat.

"Seems like our little, pretty boy orphan is a wee bit sickly," the man said with a terrible smile, a few of his teeth were missing and the rest of them were such a terrible color that Sebastian couldn't even look at him. The fact his breath smelled worse than he did didn't help either. "Maybe I could beat the sick out of ya, tha' ought to fix ya right up," Rat whispered in his ear, forcing Sebastian to hold his breath from the stench. It was then that he heard what he was hoping for. The signal. The scouts found a camp to raid. It was perfect. It didn't take long for anybody else to notice the signal either. The owl call, the only difference from an actual owl and the signal was that it was three consecutive hoots every three minutes instead of the random "hoo-hoo" of a normal owl.

The bandits were quick about it to, the moment the rest of them noticed it was the signal they sprung to action. The one's with their weapons by their side sprung into the woods, quiet as a mouse but quick as a fox, while the others all ran to their tents to grab their daggers, clubs, axes, and bows. A few with actual sword experience even grabbed a few swords they'd been lucky enough to "borrow" from a few guarded caravans. Sebastian could even feel Rat's grip loosen to get ready to go grab his gear. With a twist of his body and a large smile, Sebastian slipped out of his hold. "I'd love to stick around, but ya heard the signal. Time to go do some good ol' raidin'," Sebastian said as he took off for his own tent. As he got there he was quick to grab his gear. It consisted of two large daggers, their hilts as large as his hand and the blades were the size of his forearm, an assortment of throwing knives in a pack, he would place them all in the appropriate sheaths he had throughout his clothing, a quiver filled with some crudely made arrows, and a short bow. He preferred his throwing daggers over all the other weapons, finding them harder to evade since they were thrown at a shorter distance than what an arrow is normally shot at, and yet still having enough space between the enemy and him that he didn't have to worry about a random blow to his head or maybe even a stab to his body.

He was running towards the woods with two other bandits when it happened. The vision struck him quickly and suddenly, then disappeared almost as quick as it hit. He still saw it though. The faceless people running into the woods after the bandits. A bad omen, but Sebastian couldn't sit out of the raid. He was to old to pull that one anymore. He just shook his head and started off after the rest of them.

____________


They stood silently in the darkness of the woods, looking out at the camp and the people there. He couldn't count them, he didn't care enough to count them. His bow was knocked, and he aimed a little high over the head of a boy at the campfire where a man seemed to be teaching him how to use a weapon. He never shot to kill, out of all the bandits he had the least. He always aimed high on the first shot, and when they sprung out to attack, he always aimed his daggers at non-vital spots and let someone else finish them off. It wasn't any better than what the rest of the bandits did, but it kept their deaths off his mind. He just couldn't do it to innocent people. Not after the same thing happened to his parents.

He waited quietly, much like the rest of the bandits. This is what they were skilled out. Their "genius" plan, which was the same plan as what every other bandit group did, was to wait silently for the signal, the bows would be loosed, and as soon as the first volley was loosed, they would charge in to attack. It was a simple plan, but it worked. Even when there was only a handful of bandits with bows. Maybe eleven at most. Sebastian took a quick mental note to actually figure out how much bows they had when the signal was given.

"ATTACK!!" the bandit leader yelled loudly, the brute of a man always yelled this when they attacked a camp, instead of being stealthy and giving a silent signal. Sebastian swore that this way would get them all killed, but all the same he let loose his arrow at the same time as the others. Watching as his soared through the air.

Nox had his eyes trained on the fire intently just as the air suddenly became a bit thicker and his little sparrow was on edge flapping it's wings and moving around anxiously as if trying to warn the boy of the impending danger that was mere feet behind the group of wayfarers. Then he heard it a crunch of a twig under a boot and a gruff voice yelling Attack! Nox was moving before he realized himself what was happening. He slid his hand into the pouch at his side and flung a few shurikans into the bandit's hands and arms so as to drop them but not kill them. All of the sudden a voice began to speak at his ear it was the same voice as the one from his visions, the woman in black. Make them fear you! You have the power to destroy them all if you'd only use it! Nox shook his head and kept moving sliding his claws into place and disappearing into the darkness; he reappeared and put a man who had an arrow trained on Jacob into a choke hold and flattened his back against the thick tree trunk the man stood by. "So it looks like your comrades didn't account for people with experience to be in the group. If they leave now they won't be slaughtered like the monsters that caused us to be forced from our village." he didn't know why he was prattling this off to some bandit that was here to kill them and take their things to pawn off. Nox held the man there not letting him go with one clawed hand pressed against the man's spine so he wouldn't try anything funny.

For some reason or another the other bandits didn't take notice of either the boy or his captive bandit; they seemed to be camouflaged in the blanket of darkness against the giant tree. Nox's eyes had changed as well from their normal dark emerald green to a burning orange like hot coals. Nox himself didnt notice these changes, but the bandits probably didn't either.

"Grundus Mordina, Blacksmith. But I can be handy in a battle," he laughed at his inside joke. He held his hammer in one hand and he picked up a spare saber, which he held in his left hand.

His aching hands stopped their warm pain as he held the two weapons lethally in his hands. He slowly and gracefully attained a fighting position. his left arm in a defensive position in front of him and his right arm held the Hammer high in an offensive position.

"Keep your eyes open boy, I may only be a blacksmith, but I've been in my share of attacks." he looked over his shoulder regretfully, as if her were ashamed of something.

Bandits more than likely, Grundus pondered inside, what would they want with us? And why would they kill us right off the bat? Something's fishy. He heard a bow being drawn to his left. Damn it.

"It's a pleasure." he gazed at the blacksmith for a moment, admiring the strength and calm even in a situation like this. With the order to stay aware he stood up, nodded his head and looked toward were the first arrow had penetrated the forest. He faintly noticed the man's odd gesture but at the moment he said nothing of it. His grip tightened on his weapon and his heart started to pound so loud he was sure that someone else could hear it. However he didn't see anything in the trees.

Jacob was still in shock from the arrow that almost grazed his skull. A few worried pants of hot air moved past his mouth as he jerked his head to each side scanning the rest of the area for any movement. Then he spotted Talia. The sight of her dragged a powerful memory to the surface. She was sick with a head cold and Talia and come to John's house for treatment. Even in her state her smile was illuminating. John had sent Jacob right to work on the cure, crushed oranges, with honey and blueberries. All three were powerful, especially together. Jacob remembered handing her the concoction in a leather bag. He had gone to see her the next day, just too see how he was doing, and the following day after that.

Her voice brought him out of his revere, she was screaming for everyone to run. He shook his head and took a quick step forward, but she was already gone, the branches of the trees shaking behind her. In a heart beat he was at the edge of the trees, his sword at his thigh. Crap, where did she go, she shouldn't run off by herself... His own thoughts made him remember that he too shouldn't be running into battle alone. He scoffed, knowing now wasn't the time to think of his own safely.

He pushed the thin branches out of his way and bolted deeper into the forest, he could feel frozen leaves crushing under his feet. She couldn't have gotten too far, not with that arrow digging into her shoulder Jacob paused his chest heaving quickly. He looked to his left, nothing, then to his right, still nothing. He cursed silently, his adrenaline rising, knowing he had to find her soon.

Then he heard a snap like a twig, his face shot to the left and he ran without even thinking, it felt natural, as if it was an instinct. Jacob stumbled into a clearing just in time to see Talia pulling a broken arrow from her sleeve and thrusting it into the man's jugular. Jacob's face relaxed, he should have known that she would be alright, that she could hold her own.

His relaxation didn't last long, a second bandit was upon her and she had already lost her sword, he guessed it was because of her wound. Before the sick creature got any closer to her, Jacob dashed between them. "Don't you dare!" He took the sickle in his right hand and made a swift arch from the left side of the man's stomach to his upper right shoulder. Jacob had never attacked anyone before, but for the second time that day instinct was taking over. Blood spattered from the diagonal slice in all directions. The blonde haired boy was so angry, so full of fury that he literally saw red.

Before the bandit could utter a sound Jacob lunged and made a swipe across his throat. Any life that was left now gushed out of him in pulses, matching his slowing, dieing heartbeat. Red dots scattered Jacob's body and clothes, his breathing slowed and his vision returned to normal. Searching for a place to store his weapon, Jacob looked at each of his sides and decided to make two small holes on the left side of his pants. Pushing the sword so it was now held by the loop, he bent down next to Talia. "Other than the shoulder, are you alright?" As he asked he reached his right hand under her knees and his left hand at the top of her back. He lifted her bridal style and made his way through the woods away from battle.

"Before we do anything else I have to treat your wounds." He gave her a soft smile, and wondered briefly, now that his mind was clear of testosterone and anger, if she remembered him. Within a few minutes they came to a small meadow with a stump of a tree nestled in the grass. He set her down gently, his blond hair, which was now colored in spots a shade of pink from the bandit's blood, moved against his skin.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a pouch of dark liquid. Then he ripped a piece of his this shirt with his teeth. He stole a quick look at Talia before uncorking the top, "We have to get that arrow out..." he waited patiently for her to allow him to treat her, turning his face from her exposed body, trying to be a gentlemen.