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 Posted: Fri Sep 14, 2012 9:39 am
A Nature Stroll
A roleplay involving Maiya Enslin, her plague Beil, Wickwright Finch and his Plague, Hopkin. The time is afternoon, the weather is clear, but much of the remaining light is obscured by heavy brush.
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Posted: Fri Sep 14, 2012 2:20 pm
Auvinus sure was a lovely place, with a rather... varied terrain. The Auvinus Maiya knew and thrived in was one of open plains, wild fauna and sparse trees. Nothing could hide from you, and if you were equipped with a good spear, any animal, prey or predator, could be felled typically in a single hit. However, in the forests of Auvinus, where roads neatly carved into the dirty and rock somehow coexisted with overgrown flora, hunting was not quite as easy. She'd left home with proper "protection," and Maiya would have done away with it by now if not for fear of spiders or jagged plants and rock digging into the soft flesh of her ankles and feet. For Maiya, who had still managed to avoid enough large settlements to have gone free of the plague - or at least the one now attached at her hip - that it really wasn't a fear for her. At least, not the greatest, by a long shot. The heavy metal of the Southerner's greaves hindered her ability to stalk prey. Small rabbits, squirrels, and even deer were quick to pick up on the obnoxious clatter of metal, no matter how soft it was. To them, even the slightest rustle was considered boisterous, due to the usual silence that permeated the forest air. Maiya inhaled deeply, taking in the scents around her. Mostly, they were of the trees, whose leaves produced a faint pine smell.
She stilled herself, even the breath drawn from her chest halted momentarily. In that pause, she heard it - the faint crack of sharp hooves breaking fallen branches beneath them, and a nearby bleat of a large animal. No matter how delicate it was in it's step, Maiya was a trained hunter, her ears attuned to the calls of the wild, even if the animals were a little bit foreign. After all, that definitely wasn't a tree rustling in the breeze or an insect chirping. Even with her distinct disadvantage with her heavy leggings, the fact was, for just a moment, Maiya had the upper hand; she could take the animal by surprise.
It was not a chance wasted.
Her exhale came suddenly, and with it, she pounced, jumping across the high bushes and logs. While she had at one time been near the main road, now, Maiya had wandered into the far less tamed area of the forest. Like a duck being frightened by a hunter's dog, the deer's sudden fright gave away it's location as it's once tender footfalls gave way to sudden leaps. It brushed against trees, it's hardened hooves clattered against the hard ground and small rocks alike. Maiya was never far behind, the animal's movements betraying it's attempts to escape.
The tribal had wizened up since before, abandoning the idea that just grasping her hatchet at the hilt was adequate. After all, she'd dropped it before in the snow numerous times, dulling whichever enhancements to the blade brought on by it's contact with blood. She pressed onward, throwing her hatchet out once, twice, three times before finally snagging the deer's hind quarter. Retrieval of her weapon was made trivial by the fact she had attached a small chain at the hilt, weaving it tightly about the wood. and clipping the other end to the belt around her waist. The metal blade of her hatchet cut into the deer, splitting it's brown hide below it's buttocks, and causing a shrill grunt to escape the animal. For a moment, it stumbled, Maiya preparing to close the distance and take the kill - however, in the creature's hastened attempts to stand and escape, it again stumbled; this time over a twisted, curved root.
What followed was quite a bit of noise. Crashing, voices that were not Maiya's own, and animal noises which were likely from the injured fauna and whatever beast of burden had been tasked with pulling the carriage the injured deer had crashed in to. Though, Maiya was mostly sure it had broken it's neck the moment it's head hit the side of the vehicle.
Not that that really did Maiya any good. The dark-skinned woman stopped, her mouth agape as she stared into the clearing created by the fleeing animal. She had thought she was farther from the road, just as she had believed she wasn't leading her prey in to the damn road. Had she hit someone? Killed someone? Her thoughts suddenly changed, turning from shock at possibly losing the animal to a clumsy mistake in her chase direction, but instead to the fact that she may have just worsened whatever reputation she had with the locals.
After all, she had been chased by a little boy who threatened to turn her in for stealing something...
As unpleasant as it was for any young person to take responsibility for their actions, Maiya sighed, pressing the hilt woven in chain between her belt and clothing at her waist, before stepping into the clearing herself. Immediately, her dark-colored eyes were drawn to the deer. Oh, it was most certainly dead; it had twisted it's neck around 180 degrees when it had smacked into the carriage. While a bit of blood leaked from it's nose, the most obvious injury was the oozing, fresh wound on it's upper thigh. Now that she was completely still, she couldn't help but marvel at the effectiveness of her blade. Why, just a few more hits, and it would have easily been able to cut through bone.
Ah, the marvels of a self-sharpening blade.
Drawn from her wander by the voices of others, however, Maiya drew her gaze upwards, squinting towards the strange transportation device. She'd walked around, for the most post, but what a wonder this was! People were definitely inside, she could hear them. Though the Auvinus native found herself at a distinct lack of knowledge of just what to say. Would saying, sorry I drove this animal into your wheeled box be sufficient?
"Err.. Hello, I believe there's, ah.. was, an accident."
While not one to be easily flustered, much like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, Maiya found actually taking responsibility quite difficult, and shifted awkwardly. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything at all, and hid.
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Posted: Sun Sep 16, 2012 4:00 am
There was silence from the wagon, and then a profuse stream of swear words, and then a spindly hand reached out the door, thrusting it open to be followed by a white-haired head.
"Strewth!" Wickwright swore again, looking at the road, the state of his ox, and the state of the deer that had just crashed into his wagon with some considerable force. At his shoulder, the leather bag he was carrying rustled, and he hit the side of it absentmindedly, causing it to shudder, then stop. Something like a regretful, metallic-sounding sigh emerged from it for anyone who was listening hard, but Wickwright was evidently not, for rather than acknowledge the strange sounds his luggage made, he turned to Maiya and looked her up and down. Bloody axe. He looked at Tristram. Panicked ox. And then, finally, he looked at the deer. Gouge in side, broken neck. Making an executive decision, he chose to deal with the bloody axe first.
"Thank you," he said, "For the deer. I was running low on rations anyway." Having established his position on the matter, he thrust out his hand, announcing, "Wickwright Finch, mendicant and meddler." His bag rustled slightly again, and he shrugged it further up his shoulder. "If you don't mind--" He turned on his heel and went over to his ox, who he released from the wagon and began to check for injury, putting his bag on the ground as he did so. When he did, the flap lifted slightly, and another somewhat disappointed sounding sigh came from within. The flap closed and Wickwright finished tending to his animal, which lumbered off a ways to recollect itself from the excitement.
"Strange place for a hit-and-run!" he remarked, examining the deer. "I suppose I'll have to clean up first, Auvinus is hardly the ideal country to wander around with a wagon covered in blood. Gives folks the wrong idea. And you!" He gestured to Maiya. "What are you doing causing accidents like that? Who are you? I'm not stealing some sacrifice to Obscuvos, am I?" She didn't look like a cultist, chit of a girl that she was, but Lettie Arelgren was hardly likely cultist material either, and in Auvinus Wickwright wasn't about to take chances. His search for Jawbone Men in this country had turned up too many empty houses to make him feel comfortable being as open as he usually was, and the anxiety of his fruitless efforts had been wearing his last nerve. Now, when he was so close to Thorn and finding out just what had happened, it would be his luck to get rear-ended.
Things could be worse, he supposed. Nothing had broken but an ink bottle, and so long as Hopkin stayed safe in the bag, it shouldn't matter too much if this single solitary girl was a Cultist, even if she did have a weapon. He could talk his way out of it. Clearly she wasn't much of a marksman anyway, he thought wryly, glancing at the deer.
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Posted: Sun Sep 16, 2012 11:56 am
The sight of such fingers for a moment drew panic from Maiya. They had... stories, of lingering souls and walking bodies that still wandered their world, refusing to find peace in the Aether so that they may punish the still living out of jealousy. Could this be such a creature? Maiya had to admit, the chances of driving a deer right into the side of a wagon were a bit low. Despite being a capable enough fighter, the Southern Auvinian couldn't help but jump at the sudden explanation. Strewth! in a still booming voice. Though, much to her surprise, there was a stirring from the beast that had been pulling the wagon. Could that have been it's name? Maiya had to admit, Strewth didn't seem the name for a creature chaperoning the dead, and it drew too many similarities to the wild buffalo she had seen in books.
There was certainly an abundance of relief to be had; first, at the fact that indeed this was no dead coming to claim her soul, but rather, just an older, rather fragile looking gentleman. Second, rather at any physical trait, his words left Maiya feeling a little less like she was in trouble at the fact that he had thanked her for the deer she had sent crashing into his wagon. As far as Maiya knew, the once fleeing beast hadn't actually made contact with the oxen at all, though it's sudden and violent impact with the carriage it pulled may have caused some surface injuries. It was true, though, Maiya, no matter how she preserved it through spices or heat and air, wouldn't have been able to eat, much less lug around, such a quantity of meat.
What the man did next was nothing short of perplexing, however. "Wickwright Finch," another strange name, the only thing that seemed to come from this man were strange names. Her eyes ran up and down his outstretched hand, around the fingers where the bone was pronounced at each joint. What could he possibly want? Money? Compensation? No, people didn't hold their hand out like that! And.. what was a mendicant? Or a meddler for that matter?
"Err.. uh, Maiya Enslin."
For once, the typically boisterous girl was rather at a lost, her words barely above a whisper. It wasn't due to any shyness on her part, but rather, absolute confusion. She had known this man for mere seconds, and already left speechless. Regardless, Maiya outstretched her own hand, awkwardly looking for a solution to this dilemma before settling on tapping her palm against his quickly and tucking it behind her back. That had to be it, right?
Despite his apparent age, Maiya found his excitement, just how loud he tended to be, quite amazing. While the elders of her own family were not bed bound, they were never so youthful as to go out on their own.
He was... alone, right? Though his sudden question as to her motives was quick to snap Maiya from her thought process. For a moment, the once confused young woman's features twisted into a small frown. She hadn't meant to cause an accident! His joking matter was a bit lost on the rather blunt Auvinian.
"I - I was just trying to hunt! I didn't think I'd hit a thing."
Ahh, the best way to describe it. Maiya had picked up on those quirky little sighs being produced from his bag, but with the excitement of having to explain this rather strange circumstances that surrounded their meeting, she had opted to ignore them for the moment. After all, asking about his personal belongings was no way to make friends. She stepped back, repeating mentally the words he had said; sacrifice and Obscuvos. Actually, as of late, those two words had begun to appear frequently alongside one another, hadn't they?
"Wait, Obscuvos? Those creeps who sent the letter?"
Maiya huffed, as if personally insulted by the fact he would even consider her part of their illusive cult. After all, their contacting her had left such a poor taste in her mouth, she had recently gathered the courage to contact the Fellowship. As if her response was not enough to provide her answer, however, Maiya shook her head aggressively before eyeing the dead deer once again. It wasn't like her own religion didn't rarely call for a ritual when you took the life of an animal for sustenance... but sacrifice for the sake of a God, or some mortal man playing God? Not likely.
Well, now that they had been "properly introduced", Maiya didn't seem to have any qualms about drawing closer. Even if the only reassurances Wickwright had were her name and lack of ties to Obscuvos, the blood mage figured that that had to be enough. So, she looked to his back, fingers twitching and fumbling at her side, as if eager to get her hands on something.
"I think a mouse has found it's way into your bag, though, Finch."
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