Starting a Journey

[Hedric Salloen]

"Hedric."

Hedric's breathing began to slow. Bryson was it? Well whoever he was, he was right, it was wise to leave the area while they could. It's not like there was a large distance between the two and the village. Hedric stood up straight and walked behind Bryson. He wondered where that archer went off to. He was sure he ended up saving their necks on more than one occasion. He thought back, and now that he did, arrows were littered into the bodies of bandits everywhere, with no other stab or slash wound on them. He was positive that whoever this mysterious archer was, he deserved their thanks. He couldn't help but wonder if he was still there killing more bandits.

When Bryson stopped where he was going and told him that this was the place where they will be resting, he figured that now would be as good of a time as any to relax. He sat down beside a tree opposite of Bryson. A fire was a good idea, it was getting a little chilly. But after all that shock and confusion back at the village, he didn't want to see another spark. "No, it's fine. There still might be bandits who would see it."

Hedric pressed his knuckles together and they cracked in a rhythmic order. But as soon as he closed his eyes, he witnessed the battle again, as if he was still there. Blades and axes flashing in front of his face. He opened his eyes out of shock again and he rubbed his fingers together. There was dry blood all over his hands, cracked and peeling. It would leave his hands stained red for a couple days if he didn't wash them soon, it seemed like. He had to get his mind off the battle. Off the blood.

"So where are you from?" He blurted out quickly. Oh yes, that would be a good question. No better time to get acquainted, right? Perhaps this man can teach him a trick or two in fighting or survival maybe?

[Bryson Desmonia]

Bryson looked at Hedric, nodding at his saying they didn't need a fire. The armored man was grateful for that; he was beat. He sat down, too tired to even think about removing his rather dented armor, and dropped his shield beside his lance. By the time the red-haired one asked his question, Bryson was half asleep. He lifted his head slowly, opening his eyes again even slower. "Eh? Well... I ain't actually from there, but it was a little town in Bern. More of a home fer me than my real one, I assure ya." Bryson grumbled, regretting not taking off his armor now. He'd need to repair it again...

"And how 'bout you?" Bryson asked after a moment of silence. He wasn't entirely interested at the moment, but common courtesy demanded he be polite and ask back. It had been a long day, after all, and he had taken quite a beating back there. But he wasn't really feeling bad for himself; it was the fact that he had failed, once again, to prevent something like this. He had lost all his old friends and his home the first time, and now the feeling of, not sorrow, but rage, came back. It was damned Ilia who had set themselves in control of his homeland, and it was their duty to, as long as they controlled Bern, protect it and it's people. 

[Hedric Salloen]

Hedric was surprised that this man hadn't even passed out yet. His armor looked like it weighed a ton, if Hedric had been wearing it. But damn, if he wasn't already out, it sure looked he was close to it. Hedge nodded when he said he was from here in Bern. A local knight. He wondered if he was once part of the army here, until Illia took over. He began to wonder where he was REALLY from, but he decided against asking him. It was none of his business knowing, and he would've told him if Hedric needed to know. "And how 'bout you?"

Hedric nodded and gestured around him. "I was born and raised on a farm near the capital city, so yeah, I'm from Bern too." He said, "I don't plan on staying for long though. That village was supposed to be my resting point. I planned on crossing the border in Sacae so I could see the world. Sacaens are also honorable and disciplined I hear, so maybe they could've taught me a thing or two while I was there." Hedge spat a bloody glob of mucus from his mouth onto the ground one or two feet beside him and rubbed a sore spot on his jaw, when he was hit by the pummel of some bandit's weapon. Heh... that's why they call them pummels, I suppose.

"When dawn breaks, let's see if we can find anything we can scavenge in the ruins of town; that is if the bandits hadn't already looted everything. I could probably pick up one of their shields and put that to good use. Lord knows I need it..."

[Bryson Desmonia]

The armored man looked over at Hedric, listening to what he said. He allowed a slight grin to light his face when he heard the kid was from Bern as well, but the grin was gone as soon as he heard the bit about Sacae. "If ya ask me, they ain't much more than savages, the lot of 'em." Bryson half-snarled, spitting off to the side. He then sighed, rubbing his temples again. "Ah, what am I sayin'. I know some Sacaeans, and, a'least the ones I know are of an honorable sort." Bryson just sat there a minute after Hedric suggestion of looting the town for supplies, mulling it over. On the one hand, they could use some supplies. On the other, Bryson really didn't want to go back to that village. Especially not so soon after it had been razed... It reminded him of how his home had been burned down, and of his dead friends. Those people there had had lives and families and friends, too... So Bryson just looked cross. "Look, it's fine if ya want ta go back and look fer anythin' useful. Just don't be expectin' me ta go with ya." 

Bryson fell silent for a minute, just focusing on relaxing. He really needed to take his armor off... But he couldn't afford to. Not yet. He looked at the red-haired swordsman, thinking about what he had said. "Well... If yer headin' in ta Sacae, would ya like me ta go with ya? I can't really have ya runnin' around on yer lonesome, and I've got nowhere else ta go. What do ya say?"

[Hedric Salloen]

Hedric was a little startled at the sudden change in attitude when he commented on the Sacaens, but tried not to let his surprise show. He decided not to press that matter further, it was probably a sensitive subject. He was relieved to hear his addition though; "Ah, what am I sayin'. I know some Sacaeans, and, a'least the ones I know are of an honorable sort." But what he wondered is why would he be so disdainful of Sacaens? As far as he knew, Bern wasn't in a war with Sacae. Never, not once. His ears perked as soon as Bryson started talking again, stirring him from his thoughts. "Huh? Oh, alright. I'll see if I can pick up some stuff for the both of us though. The bandits we took down could've been holding some stuff we could probably use. Gold, weapons, armoring... that sort of thing."

It was disappointing to say the least. That Bryson wasn't going to be even a part time companion. At least, that's what he got from it, that's what he assumed. It was to be expected though. They just met and they aren't exactly friend yet. Hell, they hardly know each other besides their names and origin. He anticipated and was ready for the farewells to come in the morning. But for the minute Bryson fell silent, Hedric too was calm, and was finally able to relax, and he leaned against the tree trunk, feeling the firm bark of the tree against the back of his head. He closed his eyes without fear of the horrifying images and replaying scenes of the battle, and he inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of pine mingled with faint traces of soot and smoke from the village. He had never experienced an event like that. He was lucky he escaped with his limbs in tact, without a gouging hole in his stomach, or even his life! Never before had he been so grateful for his training. There's was so much more to know though. So much more. "Well... If yer headin' in ta Sacae, would ya like me ta go with ya? I can't really have ya runnin' around on yer lonesome, and I've got nowhere else ta go. What do ya say?"

A grin crawled up on Hedge's face. So maybe it wasn't goodbye after all. Good, he could learn a thing or two from him - and watch each others backs while they were at it. "Haha, yeah, sure. I could use a bodyguard, 'n treat me like a king." Hedric teased, jokingly sticking out his tongue from the corner of his mouth. "We ought to rest. It would probably be best if we got as much sunlight tomorrow as possible; that's just my inexperienced guess though."

[Bryson Desmonia]

Bryson snorted at Hedric's king comment, for some reason, in his half-asleep state, finding it funny. Well... It seemed like he'd have to, actually. His reason for becoming a member of a militia, for buying this armor, for protecting those towns to the best of his ability... It was because he wanted to give something back to his country, even if the rulers and nobles were sometimes less than honorable. Out on the plains, Hedric would be a little reminder of home... Something for him to protect, someone to take his mind off things. As the armored militia man sat and thought, he found himself drifting off to sleep. Even though he'd be sore and bruised tomorrow, his armor would have to stay on. Hopefully he'd be able to repair his armor in a small village or town on the outskirts of Bern... Otherwise, it'd be fairly useless and he'd be left with nothing more than his shield and lance to protect him in any skirmishes the two of them got in along the way.

"Aye... Sunlight'll be good..." Bryson rumbled, already beginning to snore as his eyelids began to droop. His dreams would be haunted with the pained faces of his friends, the burning villages, the bandits who seemed to take so much delight in destroying what others had worked their entire lives for... But, the following morning, Bryson would get up and push on. It was time he left all this behind for a while. His home was destroyed... His friends were dead... His family worse than dead to him. In time, he would return. He could never leave Bern for good; it was his homeland.