The not so silver wind. (Open)

[Nyroshea]

"I don't mind it..." he responds to Sarria in a hushed tone, "Not at all... as long as you both don't mind a clueless kid helping you out." he sticks his tongue out at his comrade in a playful manner. He hadn't known them for long, but they were nice... Really nice. Perhaps the nicest people he's met since he's been up here.

Nyroshea's cheeks then gave a light puff, it was a bit disappointing to offer someone a hand and have them refuse it. 'I should have just left it alone. Dummy. This is why we keep our traps shut. So no more talking, got it? Alright? Alright!' but his resolve was weak, when offered the opportunity to yammer on more, he seized it, elatedly, one might add. "Well you see, Mister Warren. I actually live here. I'm a local. I guess..."

Was it really so? He'd been here for 2 months, enough to familiarize himself with one or two of the settlements. But the other locals had been here all of their lives, whereas he hasn't even scratched a year on his calendar. Ah, such trivial technicalities weren't so important to mention.

Double-taking his head back to make certain the others were still in tow, he went onwards with the village just beyond the next few ridges. "I moved here from very far away. I used to help out with a troupe of performers before our Ringmaster's father became ill. Now I stay with this ill old man as his caretaker. His name is Mystel. And--" before he could finish, there was yet another voice .... A fourth person? And this one, older still!

What was this? There was something strange about this man, and not the fact that he seemed to be possessed by some demon making water run from his nose. But the attire that was foreign to the purple haired youth, it was not of any merchant's nor mercenary's cloth but more akin to the white sage's own. Robes of some sort. A mage?

"Your parlor tricks ..." ---
"Disgraceful."
"Hollowed."

...

Nyroshea timidly skulks in back of Warren, "U-um..." his hands lightly grasp into the spearman's wool cloak. A part of him hoping that Warren would speak for them, but also concern that if this man had indeed been a mage, that the spearman would be okay if it came to blows. It was really just more of a deep fear and respect for mages that rooted these delusional and paranoid prospects. He never knew how to act around them. And a majority would insult what tiny ego he had left, regarding his troupes magic acts as mere tricks and unreal magic. Even the Hermit Mystel would drop an occasional blow to his incompetence with the craft.

His yellow eyes peered just from beside of Warren's elbow, narrowing with contingency.

[Sarria]

Sarria waved at the yet another new comer, this group of wanderers was really growing quickly, wasn't it? "Hello traveler! My name is Sarria, and these are Nyroshea and Warren. We're heading to a nearby village if you want to join us, although at the rate that our group is growing, we're not going to have room in whatever place they have for travelers! It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." She giggled, looking back to Nyroshea with a big smile on her face. She loved company, and all the more people travelling with her was really making her happy.

Nyroshea didn't look so good though, the poor girl looked downright miserable in fact. Considering that Warren refused her aid, Sarria reached her had out to Nyroshea, "Here Yu, you aren't looking very well, so you can sit in my lap, okay?" She smiled sweetly at her and scooted back so that there was plenty of room on Jewel for the two of them.

She also decided that it was probably a good time to respond to Warren's question, "Well Mr. Warren, I'm out travelling, trying to find new kinds of dances, I'm training to become a good dancer you see. I just started recently, so I'm not very good at it just yet, but I hope to be soon. What are you doing out here Mr. Warren?" She was also curious about the new comer, but it was better to ask questions one at a time rather than get confused about everything.

[Warren]

Warren’s thoughts were interrupted with Nyroshea’s story being cut off by a man’s voice. The spearman’s eyes looked up to see a man standing before them. How had he not seen this man approach? Warren realized he had been so lost in thought and Nyroshea’s story he had hardly paid attention to his surroundings. A twinge of guilt went through his mind; if this stranger had not given them the chance at conversation, who could say what someone could do?

“Huh?”

The spearman’s back stiffened at the feeling of someone grabbing his cloak and hearing a small noise. As Sarria gave the hooded man their names, Warren turned slightly to look back. He saw the girl with purple locks cling to his woolen mantle, and fearfully looking past his arm. Perhaps he was mistaken, but had Nyroshea shivered? Shiver or not, seeing the girl adhere herself to his cloak stirred something in Warren he thought he had lost. He could almost see his own little girl Windi standing just shy of Nyroshea’s height. The image of her clasping at his clothes flashed before his eyes, and in that moment the spearman felt defensive- nay, protective.

Warren’s gaze found the hooded man once again, though his stare became much harder. The spearman began sizing the man up in his mind, losing the hope that this man could be friendly. Without moving himself, the spearman allowed the weight of his body to be shifted to his feet, freeing up the use of his lance. The buckler on his back could easily be lifted over his head and ready to use for combat. He readied himself for an assault. The spearman got himself into such a mood that he failed to realize Sarria was asking him a question.

“Don’t worry,” Warren whispered to the girl clinging behind his back, “nothin’ bad’ll happen to you. You can just stay behind me. I’ll protect you.”

[Sclaevinius]

Sclaevinius stepped back, as he got a bit intimidated by the man who was ready to fight. "Oh I am sorry if I scared you, I don't want to assault or rob you." He took off his hood, revealing his black spiky hair and his face. "I am just traveling through Ilia to my home country Sacae." He smiled a bit, but was still intimidated by red haired man's lance; he also wondered why is the little girl afraid of him.

"Oh right, how rude of me to not introduce myself. My name is Sclaevinius Olnord. I'm a mage and a lute playing bard. I was born in Sacae but was forced to move to Etruria due to the reasons I do not like speaking of." He sneezed, making him take out his handkerchief. "Oh, I apologize, I caught a cold since I am not used to it, because its nowhere as warm as in Etruria." He sighed cleaning his nose.

"So, I was wondering if you need more people for your party because I would be glad to aid you. I can provide you with heat thanks to my magic, and also with food, money and music!" He smiled feeling confident about his experience with lute. "However, I won't mind if you don't want me in your party. I was just curious. If I am not of an use for you, I will be on my way, but if I am not too noisy for you, I would like to know your names, please."

[Nyroshea]

A tiny whimper left the childs lips, oi how he'd wish Sarria would stop giving out his name to strangers. Still, he couldn't be too mad, after all, it's not like she meant any ill by it. She didn't know any better. Sarria was like a child herself -- though Nyro would be one to judge. This was hardly the time to worry about such trivial things. Right? Then again, why was he so stressed over another stranger? It was just another ... stranger ... With the karma he'd had all day, maybe they were also kind? Listening to the mans words of being an alleged mage and bard, the young pupil felt a little more relaxed than he had prior moments ago.
Such that the tight grip of his tiny fists on the woolen texture loosened. His mood lightened further when Sarria had offered to prop him up onto her horse. He'd always wanted to ride horseback! -- Even if this was possibly the worst time for any of this to even be considered for most people -- he was still immature and easily distracted by nice things. 'I hope I'm not too heavy! Or in the way. How do people steer horses with somebody else riding with them anyway? Maybe I should keep my hands on my lap? Or maybe I should hold onto Jewel's neck? Wait, would that hurt her? Maybe I can gently hold the reigns. I'm not sure... Ohh, this is giving me such a headache. I'll just play conservative...'

Finally deciding on what to do, he takes the hand extended to him, mounting the noble steed--whoah, even though she was a pony. This was still higher up than he'd imagined. He rested his hands on the base of the steeds neck, fingers only lightly pressing onto her flesh so as to not injure her. He hoped Warren would be okay, but with him out of the way, now Warren could throw caution to the wind if a fight broke out. Not that they wanted that! If the man really was a mage, Warren could be fried to a crisp -- they all could be. It would be better to have such a dangerous potential on their side anyway, right? ...

Especially right now, with Ilia overrun by banditry.

"If you're really a bard then ... " the childs arm stretched out, angled just a bit to the right. "Prove it..." he'd have instead asked the man to prove himself as a mage, but, really, he was not in the mood to see magic. Bards were supposed to strum up lyrics on a whim after all, surely the man with a fishy name could muster that much. Unless he was a horrible bard... But Nyro hadn't even considered that.

"If you can play while moving, that would be better... Time is not eternal. I have to go back to oversee Master Mystel's treatment soon..." he explained, trying not to sound too selfish. But it was an important task he'd been given the responsibility of overseeing. Even on his day off, he could only feel a swelling and weighty concern. 'Argh, was this even a good idea? It was selfish to take the day off in the first place, I should have dismissed it. I should have.' his gleeful moment twisted back to forming knots in his stomach. The guilt was heavier now more than ever, but to pile on more guilt by abandoning his newfound companions? No -- that was unthinkable.

Mustering his strength anew, he cracks a weak smile on his face; let's be optimistic today. Maybe the bard could sing something to quell these negative inner thoughts. " A song... about the snow would be nice... I do love it so." he half-lied; while he did enjoy the snow and find it soothing, it was also a bane of his existence because he hadn't built up much tolerance to it's cold touch. Even now the creeping chill surged through his unclothed cheeks. 'A hood, a facial mask... I should buy one of those when we reach town...'

[Sarria]

This was really getting out of hand, the tension was just rising way too much for Sarria to take. She was about to yell at everyone to stop fighting, but thankfully it didn't come to that. Nyro getting up in her lap, in front of her, was plenty to help Sarria calm down, and she gave the gal a hug. Hmm, the girl didn't feel particularly soft, she probably needed to eat more. Sarria had learned at the harvest festival that home-grown food in Ilia was not easy. She nudged Jewel to keep moving, knowing that steering wasn't really necessary, but also that she was taller than Nyro anyways, so that wasn't that important.

As for the music, that was something she could enjoy. "Yeah, a nice song for our trip back to Yu's village, that should be nice. Anything to make you guys play nice." She said, looking at Warren and Olnord. "I for one, find it a pleasure to meet you, Olnord, but your first name is way too hard to say, so I'm calling you Olnord." She started to mess with Nyro's hair idly, ready to stop if she wasn't comfortable with it. "Warren, I want you to try and calm down and listen to his music, okay?" She smiled sweetly, waving her staff around. "If you don't play nicely, I'm going to have to bonk you on the noggin." She giggled, she wasn't really being serious, but if that's what it came to, she might do it just to make him sore.

[Warren]

Warren blinked, taking in not only what the man before them said but the slight reprimand given by Sarria. He gave a quick glance at her, seeing Nyroshea in the saddle as well. The spearman gave a second glance up at the two to be sure his eyes had not fooled him. Confusion crossed the spearman’s mind. When did she get up there with her…?

He gave a hard look at the lance he was wielding. It hadn’t actually occurred to him how visible his emotions were, but the leather glove clasping the spear had actually been audible. Warren relaxed his grip and the stretching of the leather ceased. He allowed his once tense shoulders to rest rather than hunch upward. And finally Warren breathed out a long, arduous sigh. For the spearman, breathing became much less laborious without emotions driving him. He felt rather foolish for this.

“Sc-… Sclaevinius,” Warren said still coming to terms with his folly, “I… ‘ave a spear n’shield to offer as protection. I’m sorry fer getting mean like that. If you’d just fulfill the little lady’s r’quest, then we can travel t’gether.”

Warren turned his head to his companions for a moment, and gave an apologetic smile. He whispered to them, “M’sorry for bein’ a brute, gals. I truly am.”

[Sclaevinius]

He smiled softly, noticing that the lancer lowered his lance, because he felt a bit uncomfortable with having someone pointing a sharp metal at him. "Oh its okay, my dear sir, I understand if you have mistaken me for some good for nothing crook." Sclaevinius chuckled a bit, looking at a little girl. "And as for you, dear girl, I will perform for you. It would be an honor to demonstrate my performing skills."

He smiled, taking the lute off his back and placing it in his arms. He tuned it carefully, making sure it does not sound like a fat cat that has a sore throat. He then looked for a rock to sit on. He found one not far away from the spot he was standing on and sat on it. He coughed few times, to clear his throat. He started pulling the strings gently, while singing the song of winter, song about Ilia, country covered with a beautiful white cloak of snow. He sang about its snow covered mountains, plains and forests. He gently slided fingers of his left hand across the strings on the neck of the lute. He closed his eyes while performing happily, ignoring all the bad things of this world.

He stopped performing and got up, putting the lute around his neck again. "Now, let me demonstrate a bit of my magic!" He chuckled causing a small flame to form on the palm of his hand. "Now do not worry, I know how to handle this. Fire is great servant, but bad master. We have to tame it if we want it as a great ally." The small flame on his hand became a fireball as he caused it to fly around them, making sure he does not hit any of them. "But if used recklessly, it can become a great enemy." He lowered his hand as a fireball flied up in the air and exploded.

[Nyroshea]

The mood was quickly changed, thank goodness. Nyro was wearing a new neck warmer and didn't want it staining with blood. Nope, that would not send out a good message to all of the small citizens in Ilia at all. Though it should be the least of the lads worries, he was often self conscious about maintaining the respectable status quo of his default attire. Twas all he had to call his own in his petty little life.

A soft gaze fixated upon an apologetic Warren, ah, something about this man was unusual. It was apparent from the beginning, but even moreso now that Nyro saw some of how this man carried himself. His contact with people was scarce, and perhaps this lead to him having this figment of all adults having similarly selfish lives. But this impulse resonating in the air, it was something -- melancholic. It was something familiar, or perhaps even similar. "It's okay," Nyroshea smiles softly for reassurance, "I don't think you're a brute at all, Mister Warren. You're really nice." the optimist chimes in once again! Throwing in a touch of honey to sweeten up the mood further. He didn't want Warren to feel bad, after all; he was just being protective. There's nothing wrong with that. In fact, he thought it was almost flattering having a stranger willing to risk life and limb for him. It speaks volumes about the man's chivalry. It was impressive, resolute even.

The small lad subconciently reclined back against the arms that held him as he exhaled heavily. As the melodious sounds filter the air, a hand latches to one of Sarria's own, swaying left and right just above his stomach. "Pon pon~ Pony's got~ four legs~ And people have two~" he mumbles to himself, masked behind the serenade. Twas a pleasant time well spent. Leaning his head back to gaze upward, his locks fall back as he idly stares at Sarria's face from below. 'Hey, she is taller than me... That's not fair.... I should be taller. I don't wanna be tiny anymoooreeeee~' he thought absentmindedly while Sclaevinius went on his lecture about fire. Turning his focus back to the mage.

"Fire?" he managed to catch that last bit, "Yes... it is a horrible master..! The worst kind!" he tried to sound as if he understood what the mage had meant, but really it was all flying over his head. For he was not yet profound with understanding for cryptic rhetoric. "Hey look, we're almost.. *yawn* there..!" he lazily exclaims towards the end, scratching his own belly. Maybe he was becoming a little too comfortable. He felt drowsy and it was still the middle of the day.

________________________________________________________________

The settlement was moderately lively; some merchants were only just setting up shop, usually arriving and leaving around the morning. Setting up signs and unloading supplies. The occasional mercenary could be seen here and there, most were likely already hired as bodyguards while the others were probably hidden within the local tavern or inn. Of course, there were civilians as well, some from the neighboring settlements littered across the mountain range.

Nyroshea's nose caught wind of something good; "A bread cart..." he mumbles to himself, he couldn't get distracted. He had to find these people a safe place to stay.
.....
.....

But he really really wanted some of that deluxe, fancy imported bread with the sweet crust on it.
.....
.....

"Ahh... umm.... Can we go over there?" he asked in Sarria's direction, but was asking the group as a whole, "I'll get you all some bread--this place has really good good bread! The goodest of good breads! Super good bread!" he said enthused, clapping his hands with anticipation.

[Sarria]

Sarria giggled and patted Nyro's head gently. That wasn't so hard, everyone had finally calmed down and they were able to complete their journey to the settlement in peace. During the ride, the girl had been acting even younger than Sarria thought she was, but she didn't question it. As long as she was able to keep Nyro safe and happy, that was a good day.

The lively settlement made Sarria happy too, she was glad that there were still interesting and happy people all the way out here. She immediately started plotting on how to make some money if there was an inn to dance at nearby. She wasn't the best at dancing yet, but they probably didn't have enough entertainment in the town. Maybe she could even team up with Olnord and dance to his music.

Suddenly, the little girl was very excited to give bread to the small group. "Bread, Yu say?" she giggled at her joke, that probably wouldn't be understood due to "Yu" and "you" sounding the exact same. Sarria got off of Jewel and helped Nyro down as well. "I have to find a stable for Jewel really quickly, but I'll come right back, okay? I can just follow the smell of sweet bread to find you, right?" Oh darn, that would have been another good place for that joke, but I didn't see it until after I already said "You"... She shook her head and walked off with Jewel to take her to the stables.

[Warren]

For the remainder of the group’s trek to Nyroshea’s village, Warren let his thoughts run through his mind. He had wished to continue talking, but there was a content quiet between the other three. Nyroshea was murmuring a stanza from a song unknown to him, Sarria was more than willing to be the little girl’s human pillow, and Sclaevinius seemed to be happy just being part of a group. Warren took better notice of him with their adjusted proximity to each other and saw just how plagued the man was with his cold. The spearman sympathized with the man; illness in this land was not something to be mocked. Warren himself counted his blessings considering his good health during his journey.

Still, the spearman kept his mouth shut. He ought to give the bard a better apology, as he clearly had no reason to bring harm to the girls or Warren. But damn him being so stubborn at times. He was only trying to keep the girls safe, and the only way he knew how was with the lance currently employed as a walking stick.

Did your lance keep your family safe? Did your lance save them?

Maybe it was best that the spearman kept his mouth shut to rid himself of those negative thoughts.
--- --- ---
Only a short time passed before Warren found himself with his newfound comrades in a somewhat bustling town. The sight, sound, and smell of all these people almost took Warren by surprise. He was so unaccustomed to being around people the experience almost came off to him as culture shock.

When Nyroshea muttered something about bread, Warren almost asked her to repeat herself. But he inhaled and knew exactly what she was referring to. The smell was intoxicating, wafting around like a snake writhing through a field of green grass. He could actually taste the crust, almost feel it crack lightly under the pressure of his teeth. For just a moment, Warren could swear he could feel the soft, sweet inner flakes of bread practically melting on his tongue.

“Think I’ll take you up on your offer fer bread, Nyroshea,” the spearman said with a hungry look.

As Sarria took her leave for a stable, Warren jokingly called out, “I’ll try to save ya a piece, but no promises.” He also gave her a small wave, certain she knew her way to a stable. And although he was only joking about not promising to save a loaf, he almost wondered if he would eat the whole cart given the chance.

Looking back at Nyroshea and Sclaevinius, Warren said frankly, “I’m following yew to the bread.”