Sunset in the Karpati (CLOSED, Ilians Only)

[Synkkis Kyyneltya]

Resting on a crate, boots in the mud, a young Ilian man with tattered clothes finished a hearty meal of dumplings, pork, and a bit of bread to clean his plate. He had paid well for this meal, for it could've been his last. His pockets were stuffed and his rucksack that had more than its share of mending patches holding it together was as well. He had already paid for his meal with the gold he had acquired in Bern. The metal weights seemed worthless to him and were merely a burden most of the time, but the only way he could talk to people for things without much trouble was with the damn paperweights. Such was life in the area.

The Spine, as referred in common tongue by those who traveled it often, was a mountain range that extended from Ilia to Nabata. It had an arm that extended out to preserve the border between Ilia and Etruria. This jointed area was dominated by sheer cliffs and unreachable peaks. It was home.

Grunting from the added weight, the man made his way to the other side of town. His hood patched with a dark bit of cloth with a strange insignia on it covered his snowy white hair, but the animal skull strapped to his shoulder certainly identified himself from a far to anyone who ever wanted to know. Men like him were known as hermits, hunters, and in-land mercenaries. In Elibe, this was a bit of an insult to anyone with aspirations for greatness.

Synkkis Kyyneltya had enough of that greatness. The strings of fate pulled him along, but he loved his homeland. Now, he was going to defend it. Setting his rucksack down in front of a sunken-face gray bearded man, the old man took no time to hesitate about explaining the details to the mercenary. "Alright, boy. I suspect you're ready. I'd send someone with you, but all of our men of fighting age are down in Bern right now." he said, trying to reassure him.

Silent, the Shaman reached into front right pocket and pulled out a note that had a small twine string around it. "I only know what was written on the summon. Folk around here seem afraid - as if they'd seen the ghosts of the mountains visit them out of season." he explained, twirling the note in his hand.

With a concerned sigh, the old man just shook his head in disappointment. "It's true, lad. The dead have been seen walking on the ranges above the village. We reckon it's only a matter of time 'fore they attack." the elder looked away, twiddling with his thumbs. It seemed as if he had more to say, but wasn't sure if he should say it. Synkkis let the moment slide for now. He was more focused on the talk of undead.

"So, we've got them up here in Skaven? It's too hard to navigate here directly from the south towards Ostia. It's strange, as if someone were behind it." he deducted which only made the old man sweat more. He replaced his note and rested his hands on his belt. "Well, how many summons did you send for?" the Ilian asked, trying to look up at the heights from where he stood. He didn't see any figures up there at the moment so far away, but to him that didn't mean much. "I need to know if I'll be getting any help."

The old man wiped the palms of his hands on his trousers and stood up, looking Synkkis in the eyes. "I asked for help from the Ilian government, but they dismissed us. I sent for requests to nearly everyone I know, but without the travel coming in from the West, we just aren't that important anymore. It'd be a blessing from St. Elimine if anyone else would come to our call of aid. I'm lucky you were so close." he said with his true feelings pouring out with the round-about thanks he expressed to the odd purple-cloaked man. Synkkis only replied with a smile, but that was enough for the old man. He didn't need niceties to be thankful for what was given.

"Don't worry about it anymore. Make sure everyone is inside before dark and all of your doors and windows are locked is all I ask. I'll figure something out. I may head out tonight to get a better lay of the land over here in these parts." he said, now looking back to where he was scanning before.

"Well, there's another thing too. There were some valuables up there that I dropped and ran from when I first encountered the horrid beasts. A lot of my livelihood are in those chests. I suppose you can figure what I'd like for you to do." he said, doing his best to try and convince the Shaman to take up the request.

"Possibly. I'm more worried about the beasts themselves. None of y'all will have a livelihood if they manage to get into town with numbers." he said plainly and with honesty. "Still, I'll wait around here to see if anyone else will join me tonight." Bah. Hope. He had to anticipate not a lick of help, Ancestors protect him.

[Lynessa]

Lynessa landed on the snowy ground after she made sure no one was in the vicinity. The pair of blue wings on her back was engulfed in faint light, gradually disappearing as if it had never been there. Having ability to fly was convenient but she had to be careful not to be seen. At least not spotted from close. Running her fingers through her hairs to move the violet strands away from her eyes, the ice dragon looked at the town which was still pretty far from where she was observing. In her right hand was the metal rod she had just purchased recently while a small note was in the left hand. The summon wasn't personally directed to her, she had obtained it from a patron of her inn who had received it from someone else. The ice dragon came here to investigate the situation, although she would always lend her strength if needed. Using her metal rod as walking stick, she carefully walked on the snow. She smiled, enjoying the improved balance and the sense of safety from holding the rod. It would take ten or fifteen minutes to reach the town with her pace.

It was a nice town although maybe a bit quiet. Maybe because most of the men had gone fighting somewhere. Not surprising. Ilia had been pretty busy lately so the mercenaries, who made up probably more than half of Ilia population, had been dispatched to battle. She didn't really like it, though. Thanks to the Bern subjugation war, the safety within Ilia territory had deteriorated because most of its forces was in Bern fighting rebels.

Lynessa didn't know who had sent the note so she just walked toward the designated place. The sender should be there, right? After strolling around for a few minutes she saw an old man and another man with white hair. Well, she couldn't be sure if they were the people she should meet, the note didn't explain much. Whatever. Sighing, she decided to approach them. The violet-haired woman purposely held the note high so those people could see it.

[Victoria]

Victoria's gaze was constantly switching between the path ahead of her and the note she held in her hand as she wandered around her unfamiliar surroundings, her lance leaving a line in the snow behind her as the bottom of it dragged behind her. This was a process that she had been doing for a while now, but it was becoming more frequent as she came closer and closer to her destination. Of course, she hadn't been personally invited to join whoever was going to show up at this place. She had simply found the discarded summon stuck against the fence, held there by the blowing of the wind. Curious, she had picked it up and read it, following the directions on the note to lead her to the correct place. The walk there was a pretty long one, at least an hour or so, but the lengths that Victoria would go to in order to get herself into trouble were pretty amazing sometimes.

After a few more minutes of getting lost, she managed (by some miracle) to stumble upon the place specified in the note. From the entrance, she could see a few people in there, some of hem talking and others... not talking. Deciding to poke her nose into everyone else's business, Victoria stepped out of the doorway for a second. Leaning her lance against the wall beside the door, she took up a position beside the lance and poked her head through the doorway, stowing the note away as she did so. She would try to listen in on the conversation before deciding if it was worth it to stick around for longer or not. Perhaps she could have done so simply by examining the note longer for more details, but that would take the thrill out of it. At least, that's how she decided to justify not reading the note fully.

[Synkkis Kyyneltya]

The two standing under the awning of the old man's building looked outwards. The old man sat in a comfortable rocking chair well-crafted and very much looking home made. Synkkis stood and just leaned against one of the simple wooden pillars with his arm. The young man picked his teeth clean with his tongue. He could feel his blood warm with the fresh meal.

From ahead on the path, a violet-haired woman, appeared and held up a note that fluttered in the ever-changing wind. Her hair looked much more vibrant than his own tattered cloak did even when it was brand new and he immediately took note of her face, followed by her attire. Very pristine and clean for this harsh environment. The summon must've come from a city, but that assumption didn't bother him. Anyone who would stick their neck out for this depopulated village was valued to the utmost.

Across the muddy path from the hole-in-the-wall tavern that Synkkis just ate his fill from, he saw a girl who also had purple hair, but it was much darker. In all actuality, the rest of her outfit was purple as well. How lucky of Synkkis that he'd be treated with the sight of his favorite color at nearly every turn today. Was it good luck of some sort? He tried to not get too superstitious, but it was perhaps a good omen of some sort. Not wanting to bother the girl too much, he nodded his head and then focused his attention to the woman who was clearly there to go on the short expedition.

He waved his free hand back and forth, notifying the woman that he also understood what her note was and meant for. As she came in closer, the Shaman pulled out his own note as he had shown the old man.

[Synkkis Kyyneltya]

A certain chill swept across the steep, yet small valley. Naturally the clouds full of snow ahead had not dropped a single snowflake, but seen in the break of clouds, the Shaman spotted a large cluster of dark spots with flickering red lights that were haunting in appearance. The Ilian uncharacteristically wrapped his cloak around him as he felt a chill shoot up his spine.

"Ah, so ye'd seen 'em. Ye got yer work cut out ta cleanse them peaks of such unholy evils." the old man groaned with sorrow in his voice. "I'd go up there meself if I wasn't so unfit to fight..." he reminisced of his younger days. Synkkis could tell the man hadn't much embraced his old age, but has learned to live with its limitations.

"We certainly could've used your help - but I understand. Try to help those who have stayed understand that you're doing all you can here. It may assist in bringing in others in case we fail. I'm sure you know all about preparing for the worst." the tactician commented, not taking his eyes off the break in the clouds. The clouds then concealed the horrors, breaking Synkkis' eye contact. This set him to a state of action. He unfurled his tattered cloak and crossed his arms. He shouted to the others who had held the papers in their hands. "I'm leaving now! If you are to join me, then follow! If not, that is of your own volition. The chances of success are slim. Cunning, strength, endurance, and teamwork will be necessary if we are to even survive reaching the summit. Whether I am to venture myself or with companions..." The Ilian drifted off, not really finding the inspiration to continue speaking. He never cared for saying anything to rally the spirits of others. He was now much more interested in just getting the job done.

Synkkis wasn't entirely sure he'd survive this. He had always been on the bad end of jobs, although he had managed to survive all the way up until now.

He started marching up the muddied trail to the mountains that contained the undead. The plentiful amounts of fir trees were loaded with snow and a frozen creek ran alongside the narrow path. The cold seeped into everything here. However, his upbringing and the warm food that sat in his belly did him excellently in that moment to push him along.

--

Passing multiple markers primarily used by hunters, Synkkis could really tell that the mountains had been evacuated. The trail was now harder to find without recent tracks. The occasional cabin would be vacant with all of the livestock and belongings taken with whomever was living there.

The winds started to pick up here, the wind chill burning the exposed flesh of the unprepared. Anything that may have been wet or soaked bit into the bones if left unattended. Jagged rocks protruded from the earth, making the climb difficult and then nearly impossible. Just beneath the cloud cover, it looked as if they were climbing straight into the heavens. What greeted them at the summit was nothing but a supremely dense fog.

'By the grace of the Gods I didn't run into any trouble so far. Those monsters won't leave me a moment of peace once they take notice of the intruder in their midst...' Synkkis thought, as he took a knee and packed all of his gear ready for combat. His thoughts were interrupted by a howling sound that was joined by others. Unseen, Synkkis caught a stray gray wolf run through the mist. With how it was acting, he could tell it was on the hunt. "An opportune beginning. Nature guide me to my prey." Synkkis said to himself as he ran crouched over to the animal's tracks.

[Synkkis Kyyneltya]

Creeping forward with stealth as to not alert his opportune allies, he managed to get in closely to hear the panting of the wolves mixed with the unearthly groans he couldn't pinpoint the location of. To make himself ready, he unlatched the cover on his satchel where two worn black books were held side by side. The man placed his fingers on the one he was familiar with as he continued to listen.

The movements were now spattered with the sound of beastly combat. Growls, yelps, barks and howls pierced the air as the tactician was sure blood was being spilled. Using this distraction, the man bounded between the large rocks and made himself hardly seen in his cover. Heading off to his right, he almost stumbled into the skirmish as an area of low ground had essentially become an arena with bloodstains and the stiff, lifeless bodies of the slain. Three wolves had two revenants surrounded and all were wounded to some degree. There were more seriously wounded, but none would survive the night.

The three coordinated their strikes at once and leaped forward, one of the wolves meeting a quick death, piercing his skull with the talons of one of the rotted figures. They both were hit, however, and the one weighed down with the fresh kill fell to the earth. They frantically went for his neck and tore his head clean from his torso. They hadn't a moment to rest before the sluggish monster was upon them once more. Synkkis, watching with both interest and the thrill of the sport, was also hesitant. He certainly could control his magic well enough to land devastating blows that could fell a beast in one hit, but he could not accurately strike with confidence. This was a moment for these warriors as a lone soul was their witness.

The creature lashed out at the wolf that had not the remains of a ripped neck in its jaws and was wounded gravely in the leg. In his distress, he backed away to lick his wounds. Distracted, the other wolf leaped through the air and also landed a killing blow with its fierce teeth puncturing the monster's neck. It was with relief Synkkis saw the tough and wild inhabitants win out against the invasive foe.

He spoke too soon.

Three more revenants, one looking much more grizzly than the others stumbled into the pit from the far side. The wolf was quick to slay one of the revenants before it had a clue as to what was going on, but the other two were able to make themselves aware in no time at all. The large monster stomped its way towards the fit wolf, their attacks being a flurry of movement as they parried and dodged each others' moves. The beast was able to land a few strikes, but nothing of great significance to the undead. The other, unhindered, slowly made his way to the injured wolf and sliced a great gash through its chest, leaving it to bleed out on the snow-speckled grass.

This was the time for Synkkis to strike with determination. Quickly drawing his tome forward, he summoned a great ball of jet black fluid that lit like oil in a purple flame. It seeped into the ground and arose all around the stumbling horror in tendrils. He was too slow to avoid the devastating blow. Crushing the monster, Synkkis threw his attention back to the brute of a revenant. The two were still in battle, the wolf fighting with all of its might. The shaman was uncertain if he could hit the fiend or it'd miss and hit his ally, but it was not a moment to contemplate such action. The Gods would guide his hand. Summoning another sea of tendrils forth from around the two, his prayers were answered. The hulking mass fell to its knees and toppled over with a shattered skull. The wolf was still on the enemy, his jaws locked around his unmoving arm.

Not knowing if his ally would turn on him, he slowly backed away to the edge of the bloody battleground not turning his back until he was out of sight. Noticing the surroundings due to a small break in the fog, he saw that the sound of battle drew most of what was up here into the fight. He could move further along in relative safety than he anticipated. The omen was true, it was a good start after all.

[Synkkis Kyyneltya]

The surroundings were painfully quiet, with only the wind singing its tune and nibbling at his exposed skin. The thick fog persisted and it constantly made him worry as he tried gazing through the fog. He would have intermittent moments of panic when he would see a rock in the distance that looked like a figure, but wasn't, and then moments of 'Damn it all! If they are to come, then let them.'. It would rotate constantly as he knew better than to be caught off guard. As far as he could see, it was only him. That left him weak in case something were to happen. To help himself, he made small marks in the landscape with either a branch, stacked rocks, or something that he knew to look for.

He reached an area of small cliffs. Not impossible to navigate, but certainly not easy. He figured the enemy would have not passed this natural barrier, so he decided to double back and try to cover a little more ground. In the patchwork of snow, he was able to make out a large collection of footprints. The enemy. Was it the ones from before? Moving closer, he could see that they were recent. Following the tracks he only found himself returning to the area where the small battle was fought.

The Shaman sighed heavily, his breath condensing and being carried away by the wind. He latched his leather book case close and instead reached for his pipe. Loading it with a bit of rich tobacco, he struck a match and lit the simple wooden pipe. He clenched the stem in his teeth as he put away such fire-making accessories and took a few puffs to calm his nerves. Simple pleasures like this made him appreciate being alive.

A strange wheezing sound that he almost dismissed as the wind caught his attention while he had the small sack in his hands. He looked downwards to see one of the torn undead still moving and once it had realized the dark mage in front of it was something living to strike down, it seemed to spring to life if such a thing were possible. Caught off guard, Synkkis dropped his pouch and stumbled backwards. He was too slow in his reaction and was caught across the shin.

Falling down, the man struggled and grasped at his tome bag. His nervous fingers fumbled with the simple clasp and the crawling monster was only a moment before he would be upon him again. Just as he managed to get the satchel open the revenant was within striking distance. Out of a primal reaction, he kicked the beast in the face, stunning it for only a second. It was futile enough as it had wrapped its filthy arm around the same leg and scratched him once more in the same area, causing him intense pain. Managing to free himself from its grasp, Synkkis backed up onto a small ledge. It would have been no issue if not for the gravity of the moment as well as his wound, but he had no other escape. He rolled over the three foot drop and landed on his shoulder quite hard, being spun around and having a rock strike him in his back - yet it halted him from rolling any further. Mere bruises, yes, but he still had a fiend to kill. Snapping himself from his daze, Synkkis reached for his pouch.

It was empty.

No! Not now. Not in this moment. Where was his tome? Even the other one which he knew he could not use to any effect at this point wasn't with him. Looking around he found the advanced tome not too far away, but his copy of "Ältere Kunst" was on the ledge above. At that same time the rotted skull of his attacker peeked its head over the ledge and glared at him with glowing red eyes in a terrifying hunger now that he had drawn blood. Its bloody claws grasped onto the ledge as it itself would also tumble down towards him. Would this be the end?

A howl was heard from not far away. Synkkis couldn't pay any mind to it. He shuffled and grasped desperately at his gray tome with "Vitleysingur" written on the front of it. It had a splattering of mud and snow on it, but was absolutely not soiled. His hand grasped on it, the blood of his boiling as he could feel the power emanating from it. He was ready to kill. He had to. Using it could mean his own end, but he didn't have the option. He flung the old book open, trying to piece together the means of summoning the unholy magic. Whatever he did didn't seem to have an effect. The best thing it was useful for now was to be thrown. He reared back, preparing to toss the tome at the creature's head. He knew he was terrible at throwing, but he had to try. What else was there to do?

A growl erupted from behind the creature. The look of shock now took hold of the former man's face as he was dragged backwards accompanied with the combined unearthly sounds of beastly combat that was shared just earlier in the pit. The clear victor now stood on the ledge, Synkkis looking up in awe. It was the wolf he had saved earlier or at least he thought so. What were the Gods trying to tell him? Why didn't they let him die a grueling death like so many others had? There had to be purpose in himself being spared. Trying to stand up, he put too much weight on his injured calf and tumbled over once more, splashing into the slushy mud. "Verdammt nochmal..." he cursed, picking himself out of the filth. Looking back, he saw the wolf had left. It was actually his luck he wasn't attacked as well. He couldn't do much of anything to protect himself.

This time he was able to raise himself with the assistance of the three foot ledge. He picked up his other tome and stuffed both in his satchel. He had the strength to pull himself on top of the ledge, but he lay for a moment to again gather his strength before he would attempt getting up again. Looking to his left the motionless and gutted torso of his attacker lay with his hollow eyes looking off into the distance. Out of spite, the snow-haired man shoved it over the small ledge. He took in his small victories whenever they came. He rested a little more until something started to nudge his side. Jolting, he slipped his hand into his satchel and looked to be what it was.

The wolf had returned and it jumped back out of reach of the Shaman. Up close he could see it was well built and had extremely bright eyes known to the creatures of the region. In its mouth was his pouch he had dropped earlier. It set the small sack down and nudged it towards him with its muzzle, still keeping out of reach. Bewildered, Synkkis let go of his tome and instead reached over for his pouch. Inside he had a vulnerary as to which he opened. Breaking eye contact with his savior, he looked at the condition of his leg. His pant leg below his knee was absolutely shredded, but gods be praised his boot wasn't harmed. Funny how he thought of such things when he was bleeding himself. He pulled the blood-stained tan trousers out from the boot and rolled it up, making the wound visibly clear. It was bad, but it wasn't too bad. He would survive it.

He pulled a roll of gauze bandages out as well as his canteen from his pack. He took a swig of the refreshing mountain water and then cleaned the excess blood from the wound. With his open vulnerary, the Ilian sprinkled the painful medicine over his open wounds. They would scar for certain, but he didn't think too much about it. Wanting to get it over with quickly, he dashed the rest of it on there and rapidly bandaged his calf. That would hold him until he could get back to civilization. His mission was on hiatus for now. He bought time for the small village and with that he was satisfied.

Laying back down, he felt the dizziness from losing a bit of blood as well as looking at his own wounds made him queasy. He took in a little more water and rested for a moment. When he looked to his side he saw the wolf was sitting there - waiting. What did the creature want? His debt was repaid. He could go on his way. Synkkis had only done what he did because he had a job to do. The wolf should've understood that. Clearly it didn't. It sat there, albeit at a distance, but it waited. It reminded him of folk tales of Fenrir, a wolf that would eat the world, and his two sons Sköll and Hati.

"So, do you have something to say? If you mean to kill me, then make it quick. I'd rather to kill you here and now." the Shaman said challengingly, yet his body language making it apparent how weak he was. "I suppose I will let you live just as before." he said, laying to rest once more.

[Synkkis Kyyneltya]

In a lucid dream, Synkkis groaned as he turned. He felt like he was falling with no real grasp on the world around him. Looking beneath him, he could see a landscape of broken stone that was rushing towards him. The jutting rocks came closer, but he fell through a gap into a pit of darkness, the walls disappearing from view.

Slowly reaching him from both sides, two walls approached. They looked like tomes. They looked like his. Yes, one was his Flux tome and the other was the Luna one. He reached out to touch his familiar Flux tome. He felt the leather and cloth and cords of twine that made the cover. It smelled just like his and even gave him the buzzing and numbing feel whenever he touched it. As he was to touch it, he felt his weight shift as he was now on all fours on top of his book. Looking upwards he no longer saw his other tome. Instead it was a dim light like the Sun, but it still hurt his eyes to look directly at it.

He looked towards and he was no longer on his tome. He stood in the cold, muddy, grassy earth. He remembered his task and as such began to walk. The fog was still thick - actually thicker than before. Deciding to run, he brushed past a few boulders until an opening in the ground came upon him and he fell in. It was the pit from earlier, but it was empty. All around he tried to look for any signs of the battle. Bones? No. He wished the light would shine brighter. He looked up and it was no longer there. A dome of brick and stone was above him. He looked around him and it was the inside of a mausoleum. He was sitting in an open coffin, with others around him. Frantically, he jumped out of his place and backed into a wall. The stone placements and their coffins drifted away from him into the darkness, only the wall behind him giving him any sense of place.

He felt his weight shift again, laying with his back on the stone. Except the stone was warm and felt like it was covered in cloth. It was actually soft. Turning on his side he looked ahead and saw his old love interest, Jadey, in the same bed as he. She was a source of warmth for him. He went to brush her cheek with her hand, but she covered her face with the covers and turned away. The covers themselves flew into the darkness around him, like a rag being tossed down a well.

Synkkis was drifting once more. Nothing around him. It was actually frightening. Would he ever get to feel warmth again? Where was he going? The uncertainty scared him more than any foe on the field ever could. He felt like he was falling once more with the wind blowing all around him. Trying to catch his bearing he looked to wherever he thought was down. All that met him was the face of a wolf with its teeth showing, blood and tattered clothing clung to its maw and it waiting for him with its jaws agape. He looked upwards, trying to escape. Swim away, although one could not swim through the air. Just any means of getting away.

He kept falling. Nothing consumed him. The wind brushing past him was still now. It was actually warm. Above him he saw a flickering flame with no source. It lit up against a surface he couldn't make out until it touched and sparked. The flame raced across the dome, lighting up the evening sky. He was cold, but he also felt warmth. He felt blessed.

--

The Shaman's eyes slowly opened, the same sky from his vision being above him. What peace he felt. It actually brought tears to his eyes. The Ilian couldn't keep from smiling as the tears in his eyes obscured his vision of the wonderful sight. He wiped the tears away with his gloved hands.

"Eh, lad. I'd be grateful if I were ye as well. Yer lucky we found ya." the old man from earlier made himself known, actually startling the comparatively young man from his solace. "We actually reckoned you'd died up yonder. A wolf came an' guided me up to where you were. It's gone now, eh." the old man grunted, feeling the grooves in his walking stick where there were a single set of teeth marks in it.

Synkkis lay quiet for a little more, thinking of the wolf that had saved him. He again wiped the tears from his eyes before he answered the old man who had also saved him. "I'm just appreciative I'm still above ground. I owe you that." The snow-haired Shaman said honestly, his heart quivering still.

Dismissing his soft sentiments, the old man retorted coldly. "Pshaw, ye don't owe me. I saw what had gone on. Our problem has been solved for now thanks to you. As long as ye don't take payment, we're even." The old man looked away and chewed on a bit of jerky.

Thinking on it, Synkkis couldn't ask for any. He was afforded something that money couldn't buy. It humbled him, but here he was in the moment. He had to get back to reality. He still had the tender feelings within, but he didn't want to do a disservice to the man who had saved him. "I'd never ask the sort after what you did. Still, I thank you." Synkkis said. Sitting himself up from what he now saw was a bed of pelts that was underneath the awning he had met the old man in the first place. From what moving what he had done, he felt his leg in pain. He had to take care not to open any of his wounds.

"Rest, lad. Rest. Ye got time. I'm sure ye can move around tomorrow, but be patient. I'll have me daughter help ye wit anything ye need. I can't bend over well much anymore." the old man spoke, breaking the silence. He leaned over and pulled out two small sacks, tossing them to the Shaman. "One 'a them's yers. Ta other one's jerky I'd been makin' since yesterdee. Ye earned it, lad. Chow down." he offered, now instead of sounding so cold as before. Synkkis could not answer as he stuffed his mouth and opened up his other pouch to gleefully find all of his belongings were inside. Looking to his side he instantly recognized his familiar rucksack with his bedroll strapped onto it. Next to it was his belt and sash. He couldn't ask for more hospitality.

[Lynessa]

Lynessa has finished with scouting the outskirt of the village for the last time. She couldn't say for sure that the danger was completely gone but it seemed Synkkis had done the village a grea service. The human shaman actually won her respect for going there alone, even almost sacrificed his life. White breath came out of her nostril as the ice dragon walked back to the village, toward where that old man tended the town's hero. There was a little regret here. She would have gone helped him if he hadn't been in such hurry. His offensive method unsettled the violed-haired woman, though. In her mind, it was more preferable to stay around the village and not venture too far. He had produced result indeed but Lynessa wasn't sure if she could leave the village defenseless. That concern was one of the reason she hadn't followed him. Cold maybe, but she had believed that was the best course of action for that time. It seemed that had been a mistake, though.

It wasn't hard to find where Synkkis was resting. The old man who spread the summon was there too, beside him. He seemed well although he probaby should have tended inside a warm building, she thought.

"You are awake..." she muttered as she approached the men. "I was a little afraid you wouldn't." They might not know each other but Lynessa was always kind to everyone so she genuinely concerned. Also, she had soft spot for brave and heroic men. Smiling gently, the dragon walked slowly until she stood beside him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. "I am sorry I couldn't help. I should have followed you..." she added.

[Synkkis Kyyneltya]

The wind that whistled its tune didn't bother him too much anymore beneath the layers of fur from the assorted animal pelts. In actuality, it lulled him to sleep. He imagined he looked like a baby with jerky in one hand, his unlit pipe in the other, and his mouth wide open in a deep sleep covered head to toe in his covers. He was simply exhausted from his excursion. A well deserved rest.

His dreams were less intense and easily forgotten, but what stuck out to him was the wolf that he had encountered. Synkkis just could not make sense of the illusions no matter what. Regardless, he had an urge to see the wolf again, even if he had no real love or passion for the beasts of the world. A stark contrast to his older sisters and his mother who all flew Pegasi.

Somehow feeling the presence of someone coming, he slowly awakened. He felt so embedded in the pelts that it was akin to waking from death. His bed being like a coffin to set aside until the ground thawed and he could be buried. Given how close he was with death, it could have very much been the case. The wounded shaman yawned and stretched, feeling the blood circulate and also being reminded of his wounded leg; at which he grimaced.

The woman from before, something a bit foreign about her, had returned. He had perhaps counted on her to assist him in his excursion, but him showing any anger or disappointment would've been counterintuitive. Besides, she made sure the village itself was safe during his foolish journey. What good would that have been if it was attacked while he was gone?

The dark mage sat up with tired eyes and nodded, trying to show he was ultimately alright. Feeling the jerky still clutched in his fingers, he bit off another piece. Cold jerky. Hmm.

"Yes, I'm fine. I may not be able to be 100% without the aid of a healer for some time. Traditional medicines will have to do for now. Thank you." the snow-haired Ilian said honestly, trying to comfort any fears she had. "This village is much too poor and far away from the Elixirs enjoyed by more professional armies and raiding parties."

Rubbing the color back into his face, the young man flipped through his hides to dig out his pipe. Once found, he stuck the mouthpiece through his teeth and just enjoyed the residual taste of his burnt tobacco. Enough to perk him awake a bit. "What I'm really hoping is that there aren't any more. I'll have to do some more scouting to confirm that. Did you find anything of significance during your rounds?" he asked, leaning back on his pack that served as a pillow.

[Lynessa]

"Glad to hear that," she replied, smiling. Lynessa looked at the wounded shaman. She felt intrigued by his exotic attire. It was rare to see someone with bones, face paint, and tattoos as accessories. Quite intimidating, honestly. Maybe he simply had unique taste or something? Or maybe all mage...dark mage...dressed like him? Shrugging, Lynessa shook her head lightly as she thought, "Nah, it can't be. Too creepy..." The dragon refrained to make any remark on this subject, feeling it would be impolite to criticize his taste.

"Well..." Lynessa crossed her arms and looked to the distance. "I can't say for sure that those creatures have been completely eradicated. I mean...some stragglers might still be up there. But I think you should know better than me." She didn't intend to say he had done poor job. After all, Synkkis had done more than enough to protect this village. But it was difficult to think that one man had cleaned this area from undead completely. Some might have escaped his attention or found another way to this village...hopefully not. "But I assure you there isn't any of those monsters in the vicinity of this village. I guess we should be safe for a moment," she answered confidently.

"However, I must say this is very unfavorable situation for us. This village is too defenseless. The area is too wide for us to cover, especially with our lack of manpower. Are you sure we won't be getting reinforcement soon? Not even from Ilia military or the other villages?" Lynessa didn't want to make situation more grim but someone needed to state the fact, to remind them not to get careless.

[Synkkis Kyyneltya]

Feeling the prying eyes of the mature looking woman, Synkkis couldn't help but shift his eyes away from meeting her gaze. Something about her eyes had a very piercing aura to them. In a way it felt as if she could crush him with just her eyes, although she wasn't being hostile. Very few people he knew that were like that. Looking in the distance, the early setting sun crested the peaks from the West. The sunlight penetrated the rafters of the porch and kept Synkkis in the shadow of the wooden planks above him. It would soon be too cold to sleep out here, even with all the pelts he had.

Acknowledging the woman's concerns, he entirely agreed with her. He absolutely had to check again to ensure the risen had finally returned to their rest and that there weren't more. With his leg as a mess for the next few days without a healer, he would be extremely limited in his movement. At least he still had his tomes and a secure mind. "I have no idea, but until we comb over the summit multiple times will we know for certain. We have to assume there are."

Hearing her report of the area just outside of the village being safe, gave him a bit of ease. He prayed it would stay the same. How would one pray to the old gods anyways? It didn't bother him. They seemed to interject whenever they pleased regardless. "Good." he interjected before she continued.

It was easy to remind Synkkis of how overall suicidal this task was with so few volunteers. With a grave sigh, Synkkis spoke. "The other villages know this is a risky area and are doing what they can to fortify themselves for this threat. The Ilian military had empty promises of making a presence, but things are going unfavorably for them in Bern from what I heard on my way here. It may be a week before they finally show up if at all. I can't truly rest having my own village safe while a neighbor's is left to the wolves." Did he really say that? Was that really the real reason he was here? Even the Shaman did not know that. It all sounded pleasant for anyone else, but there were so many conflicting and turbulent feelings Kyyneltya had for not only doing these sorts of things, but his life in general. Everything fluxed and nothing was set like a stone. It really didn't matter where he was from, nor where he was going - all that made a difference was that he was here now.

Synkkis grunted and slowly pulled his legs out, trying to be as careful as he could with his right calf. He braced on his pack as he got himself up. He lost his balance a bit, but caught himself. Again looking at his bandaged wound he was eternally grateful his boot wasn't mangled. The snow-haired man hobbled over to one of the supports and leaned against it. "Did you ever meet the townspeople? The only inn-like structure here is the horse barn. Luckily for us, there are some vacancies." he asked, limping his way over towards the long and shabby building.

[Lynessa]

Lynessa only smiled and gave the shaman a slight nod after he had presented his assumption. While he was correct about having to comb over the summit several times to be sure, she wondered if she could simply sniff the air to find the exact location of those monster then destroyed them. The violet-haired woman chose not to share the thought with Synkkis because aside that there was a fair chance she might fail finding the location, that wasn't something a normal human could do. "Maybe only once, if we are lucky..." That was good enough. Not too much information shared but she could give him some hope.

What a complicated situation. No one could blame the other villages for trying to protecting their homes. In fact, the reason she had come alone to this place was because her village couldn't spare any manpower. Sure, her husband had offered to come but he was still sick so the ice dragon had insisted to him that she could do it alone. However, she had never expected that the situation in this village would have been this bad, too defenseless. At least, there should have been some watchmen. And the military...It was true that they probably had their hand busy with the rebellion in Bern. It wouldn't be easy for the military to send soldiers to every villages in danger without disturbing their grand plan.

Lynessa watched Synkkis got up, almost rushing in to help when he lost his balance. She then walked with him toward the building, matching his slower pace.

"Yes, I share your feeling. You seem to possess noble heart, young man..." Lynessa seemed quite pleased with Synkkis' determination to help this village. It was something rare these days, after all. Risking one's neck to save another might be considered foolish by some people but Lynessa always liked and respected those fools. "Be careful, though. No one will want you die protecting their village," she said. The ice dragon wasn't sure she should reprimand him. But the shaman seemed to be quite reckless, proved by him going up there alone.

"Only the old man who sent letter. I went to scout the area as soon as I arrived here," she replied to his question. "By the way, sleeping in horse barn, huh? It reminds me of my adventures when I was younger..." she muttered. Lynessa's expression softened when he mentioned the horse barn. The ice dragon was quickly filled with nostalgic feeling.

[Synkkis Kyyneltya]

Remarks on his actions stirred him. He thought nothing of such things while he was up there, yet that's the image he reflected on those here. Looking back, he didn't regret doing any of what went on while he was fighting the undead. He was going to die someday, sometime. It didn't bother him too much. Still, he was grateful for being here. The constant stimuli that washed over him with the wind in the air and the pain of his leg - it was good to be alive.

He let the woman's comments pass, letting the words to be as they were. He didn't have much to say as a response, nor would he want the discourse that would follow. The mysterious woman instead answered his previous questions, breaking the conversational silence in the constant whistling of the evening wind.

"Yeah, I became mildly acquainted with them before I set out myself. Still, this barn is much better than having to carve a home out of a snow-drift - especially given the time of day." Synkkis remarked, opening the door to the stable. There was a simple oil lamp that hung from one of the rafters. He quickly went about lighting it. The old, yet reliable piece gave off a bit of light, but it was still difficult to make out details. It'd just have to do.

The young man found a comfy spot in the common area with more hay than they needed to keep warm. "We can arrange our strategies in the morning. I'm not too much use with my leg as is, but in a few days I should be ready to climb the mountain again." he said confidently, his posture forward even as he sat down. Kyyneltya didn't look like too much right now, but his spirit for the hunt wouldn't keep him bed-ridden forever.

--

TO BE CONTINUED