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Post by Leandros Aurthurian on Jan 23, 2023 21:31:55 GMT -5
Admittedly, for one of the first official forays into adventuring he would make, Leandros did not expect chasing ghosts to be on the list of jobs he would take. Honestly it seemed a bit silly. From what he had heard, the Hauntwood's name wasn't an ironic joke. It could for all intents and purposes be a ghost. Seemed better to just let it be and hope it finds some other form of ephemeral enjoyment in the afterlife.
His armor clanked gently together as his boots hit mud, the armor fit well and was secured, but with the amount of armor he wore it was impossible not to make noise. The cape billowed gently as he walked, hanging down to just about his ankles when at rest. Thankfully that meant it was just high enough to not be dragged through the mud.
Leandros stopped to scan the woods, hands on his hips. Perhaps he should've stopped to talk more with some locals first before just wandering out into the woods to handle a ghost story.
"How is one supposed to even find a ghost in the woods? Quite like finding a needle in a haystack......if the needle could turn invisible and hide inside of other things and fly." For the size of him, his voice was much softer than one would expect.
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Post by Askr Mimameith on Jan 23, 2023 23:42:10 GMT -5
Ghosts were not the sort of thing a mercenary was usually meant to handle.
They were meant to combat solid, tangible things, something a blade or arrow could strike and finish off, something they could drag back as proof so they could take coin in their palm and carry on with their day, whether it meant lifting a weapon against monster or man or a monster in man's skin. If its blood can wet your weapon, then it is a fair mark for a commission, and if enough Solars and prestige and goodwill follow the offer, then most mercenaries will eagerly go chasing after whatever you're paying them to chase.
Askr does not believe phantoms can bleed. He also believes that most self-respecting mercenaries would likely laugh themselves to near unconsciousness over being offered a job like this one.
It is rare that the Ring of Cinders ventures to this side of Charon; most of their work pops up in the Ash Lands, in King's Valley, in the Dragon's Cradle, in Zeinav, on the easternmost side of the continent, with a few sparse missions carrying them out a little further every now and then. But then there are those times when a mission they would be fools to turn down pop up in the Frost Gale, or when Captain Bleier's whims carry them out to the Moonglade, and a small band of them wind up getting dragged out to the western reaches of Charon just to chase after whatever it is that Oleeae has deemed worth their time.
On this particular occasion, they'd been traveling back from another mission in Eclipse City, and had stopped in Lilicors Village on their way back to Darkveil, only to hear passing wisps of gossip-- talk of ghosts, strange spectres lingering in the Hauntwood. Aaranay had rolled his eyes, made some comment about how it made sense for a place called the Hauntwood to be haunted, but Askr had paused in place, eyeing the whispering villagers with what could only be muted interest.
And then, despite Oleeae and Aaranay's attempts to dissuade him, he had asked a question, and now here he was, wandering the Hauntwood alone in search of phantoms while the rest of his band rested for an extra day or two in Lilicors.
He wanders in silence, hand settled on the hilt of his blade as he continues maneuvering through high grass and cloying mud, lips drawn in a thin line as he seeks out any sign of the aforementioned phantoms. So far, he has heard nothing unnatural, seen nothing unnatural; nothing beyond the whistle of the wind and the chirping of crickets and the clank of armored footsteps--
...
Askr pauses, quickly unsheathing his sword and whipping around to find the source of the noise, expression blank as he steps through tall grasses in search of a soft voice and the clink of plate, pausing as soon as he finds an... extraordinarily tall man standing in the midst of the trees. His hair is gold, eyes a soft blue, his expression one of gentle musing, and he dons a knight's armor, all in silver and azure, and he is most certainly tangible.
Not a ghost.
"...oh," Askr mumbles, lowering his sword, though it likely would have done nothing against a spectre to begin with. "You are... not a ghost."
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Post by Leandros Aurthurian on Jan 24, 2023 17:32:43 GMT -5
"Of that I can assure you." Leandros offers a light chuckle and soft smile as he turns, seemingly not concerned about the man baring a blade at him. The sword was already being lowered, so there was nothing to be threatened by. At least he was willing to hope.
He gives the other a casual look over, definitely from a different place than him but would that make him a local? If nothing else they pair would have a much easier time searching the woods with two people as opposed to going alone, and well if they are after the same goal as it might seem then why waste their efforts working separately rather than together? Only one way to find out he thought as he started to cross the woods towards Askr and make introductions with the other.
"Are you from these parts? I'd heard rumor of ghosts and specters making their homes in these areas, but I don't know these woods well." He pauses a moment before offering out a hand, just as broad and firm as the man himself looked. Up close Askr could see the halberd at the knight's back as the handshake is offered. "Leandros Aurthurian of Capitol Landing. Yourself?"
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Post by Askr Mimameith on Jan 26, 2023 1:49:49 GMT -5
It is strange to see how unbothered this man is by the threat of a blade, even if it had been a brief one.
Askr watches the stranger-- Leandros Aurthurian, as he introduces himself-- with a neutral expression, brow settled, lips drawn in that perpetual thin line, molten gold eyes as blank as always as they scan over the tall man standing before him. It is not uncommon for those more well-versed in combat not to flinch away from a brandished weapon, and this man certainly seems as though he has seen combat, though not a mercenary's battles. No. His armor glistens, his cape is carefully embroidered, his halberd polished, his smile practiced; this man is a knight. Askr knows very little of knighthood, but he knows most of them are meant to be paragons of nobility. He knows some of the men in the Ring of Cinders have few kind things to say about a few of the orders. He knows some of those things are things he should not repeat.
This man does not seem... hostile. He seems the opposite, in fact, the easy smile on his face and the gentility of his approach genuine, at least as far as Askr can wager. It is not easy to discern between the saccharine charms of the men who wish to use you and the kindness of those who lack any such intent, but Leandros does not seem like the former, does not seem like one of the sharks in Darkveil merely waiting for a chance to bite.
After a moment's hesitation, he extends his hand back, stiffly settling his in Leandros's to give it a shake, as must be expected of him. He... hopes that is what he expected.
"No, sir," he says quickly, shaking his head. "My name is Askr, of... the Ash Lands. I also do not know these woods very well, but I heard the same rumor. Of... ghosts, I mean."
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Post by Leandros Aurthurian on Jan 26, 2023 16:03:07 GMT -5
The handshake Askr receives is firm, but seemingly aware of just how much pressure it is exerting. Leandros has inadvertently hurt more than a few hands to know to be careful, so he does his best to match the others.
"The Ash lands hm? I don't think I've ventured there yet. Care to share what it's like?" Leandros gestures for the other man to join him on this walk through the woods looking for ghosts. The knight kept his focus on the ghosts at hand, but he was clearly interested to hear Askr's answer. A new traveler to Charon at-large meant every new person could help teach him just a little bit more about the world.
Heavy footsteps plodded through the muck as they walked, there was no rush in his gait as he wanted to give Askr time to talk and not feel so rushed. He could tell from a glance, the pause in his speech, and the slight uncertainness of the handshake that Askr might be one of the more quiet or reserved types. Leandros was also well aware how overpowering he could seem at a glance to strangers, so efforts must be made to make this new person comfortable.
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Post by Askr Mimameith on Jan 26, 2023 19:37:03 GMT -5
The silent invitation Leandros gives him to join along in this search brings Askr only a moment of pause.
Perhaps he should not be venturing off with a stranger, let alone a stranger who looks more than capable of tearing him apart should he desire it, but the man in blue and silver hardly seems the violent sort-- it is likely that he merely believes in the concept of safety in numbers, speed in togetherness, is confident that the two of them will find more fortune in this ghost-hunting venture side-by-side than they might separately. If that is what he believes, then Askr will not challenge it-- he simply gives a nod and begins to walk beside him, watching the man carefully, with muted interest flickering in eyes of molten gold.
"Yes, sir," he parrots once more as soon as he's prompted to talk about the nation he very tentatively calls a home. It is the only place he knows as one, after all-- the place he crawled out of the depths of three months ago, the place he has lingered ever since. "The Ash Lands are... warm. Very warm. Warm enough that the heat is very capable of killing you if you overdress for it. There is a lot of smoke and ash in the air, and... you have to be very mindful of where you are going and who you are with."
He drums his fingers idly against the hilt of his sword, the sound dulled by his gloves. It feels strange to talk so much, still, to have any amount of attention centered on him. Askr cannot help the little surge of what he thinks might be unease branching through his chest.
"Um... Mister Leandros, did you receive any guidance about what the ghosts might be like?"
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Post by Leandros Aurthurian on Jan 26, 2023 23:01:46 GMT -5
Leandros gives a little 'hmm' noise, a warm and soft note from the chest, as Askr describes his home. He can picture it though he didn't imagine it to be a somewhat literal name. "What's it like to live in the shadow of Mount Drakolt? Is it something you concern yourselves with often or does it keep in relative slumber?"
Once more, he becomes patiently quiet to give Askr the space to talk and think. To any would-be outside onlookers, the two did make a strange traveling pair but that was the nature of meeting strangers in strange places. While Askr's hands fiddled at his sword hilt, Lee's hung loose at his sides to sway as he walked.
"Oh there is no need to address me so formally." A light laugh as he smiles over to Askr while they walk. "I am only a knight and a nobleman in Captiol Landing, out here Leandros is just fine...even at home I tend to prefer less formality." He smiles congenially before remembering a question that was asked. "Ah yes....not so much in their look, but in their activities. No one has gotten a good look at them, but it seems they have been harrassing loggers in the area. Tools end up broken, boot laces tied together, simple pranks that make live much harder for those making a living out here."
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Post by Askr Mimameith on Jan 27, 2023 4:01:52 GMT -5
As soon as Leandros asks him about what it is like to live beneath the shadow of Mount Drakolt, Askr once again falters, the edges of his expression colored in a subtle pensiveness; it is admittedly not a subject he has given much thought. In the three months he has spent in the world above ground, it is not as though he has not acknowledged the mountain and its steady stream of ash and smoke, the river of lava that cascades from its mouth, the fire and death it has the capability to unleash upon all beneath it, but it is hardly at the forefront of his mind. He has merely had greater concerns, caught up in the minutiae of a mercenary's affairs rather than the grand anxiety that comes with living beneath a natural bomb.
He gives a short, brief hum, considering his answer. "...I believe most focus on living from one day to the next. Mount Drakolt is of some concern to some, but... I do not think it is the first thing on people's minds."
Askr is sure there are people in Darkveil who worry themselves sick over the volcano they live in the shadow of, fearing fiery death beneath its imposing form, but no one he has ever met has voiced such a concern. The mercenaries he knows hardly harbor any such worry. Aaranay flits back and forth between Zeinav City and Darkveil whenever he has time, running Solars to his significant other; he hardly cares. Ogma cares more for steel and ale than for the date of his demise. Tethra would insist she does not have time to die, she has too much to do. All in all, it's the very least of their concerns.
His thoughts of smoke and ash and fire scatter easily once Leandros insists that there is no need for any formal address, a subtle, sweeping discomfort painting its way across Askr's face-- he is... not good at upholding casual conversation, especially not with strangers. But if it is what is asked of him, he will try.
"...Ah, um, yes... sir," he murmurs, tone touched by unease. "...Le...andros. So these ghosts are... largely harmless pranksters, and not... murderous. That is good. I am... glad they are not harmful."
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Post by Leandros Aurthurian on Jan 27, 2023 17:12:24 GMT -5
"That would make sense, it would be hard to get much work done if you were constantly worried about something like that." A kindly chuckle was given as they kept walking. He let the second use of 'sir' pass without notice, no sense nagging someone who is at least trying and he couldn't deny that Askr was trying.
"The hope is that they remain harmless, my hope is that they are just simple forest spirits unhappy with where the people are currently logging.....I don't know much of other languages, so let's hope they can at least speak the common tongue."
As they walked, the path would clear out up ahead and open into a clearing. This seems like it would at least be a good place to begin their investigation. Scattered tools litter this abandoned worksite, seems the pranksters had chased off whoever was last here. As the pair entered the clearing it would suddenly be filled with the faintest echoes of chittering laughter. To Leandros it mostly sounded like wind through the leaves, but to anyone with heightened senses or just a mind to notice when things are off the laughter is obvious. They are no longer alone in these woods.
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Post by Askr Mimameith on Jan 28, 2023 0:41:47 GMT -5
Askr manages a nod of agreement in response to Leandros's comment about how difficult it would be to thrive if stress weighed constantly on your mind in the shadow of a volcano; as far as he knows, fear is a foreign concept to several within the bounds of Darkveil City. There is a healthy amount, to be sure, the sort one holds at their heart like armor just to keep themselves alive, but to live a life possessed by fear is to live a short one indeed in a land of shadows. Askr certainly cares little for fear; he has the orders he is given, the blade at his side, and the knowledge that truly putting him down is no easy feat.
As the topic shifts to ghosts, a pensive edge gently crests over his expression as he absorbs the information he is given, the details certainly useful in assembling the greater puzzle. Mischievous or unsatisfied forest spirits are likely far more manageable than actively hostile phantoms. Askr knows little of ghosts and their intricacies, knows little of how to be rid of them, but... talking down a displeased spirit or helping one out sounds far easier than exorcising an angered, hate-filled spectre of the swamp.
"...understood," he says simply. It is all he really needs to say.
As they emerge into that clearing, into the signs of abandoned work, forgotten tools and half-completed work, Askr immediately sets to work looking around, searching for signs of any ghostly activity in the area. It is hard to determine what might be of human cause and what might be the work of the ghosts-- it is not as though he knows much of the tendencies of either, still. But after a moment of looking around, searching between the trees, he pauses at the site of a fallen tree-- one with letters etched into its side.
...Uh oh.
That... is an L. He thinks. An... E. A, he knows A, that's the first letter of his name... L-E-A... Um...
...oh, he is going to have to use some guesswork, isn't he.
"...Mist-- Leandros," he calls, voice carefully flat. He does not wish to let panic over his inability to parse the words seep through. "...I found a word. Leaf."
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Post by Leandros Aurthurian on Jan 28, 2023 11:18:07 GMT -5
Leandros similarly begins to survey the area. Metal gently chunks against metal as he kneels down to pick up a broken saw, looking it over closely. Cleanly snapped in the middle....someone did this intentionally, it wasn't just normal wear and tear. He gently runs a thumb along the teeth, this had been recently sharpened. He stands up with a sigh, looking over to Askr and walking over when he says he found something.
He reaches down to brush away a bit of dust from the letters, blowing out all the sawdust. "Leave." It doesn't sound as if Leandros is correcting Askr, but giving them both a chance to pretend the full word was covered up rather than address the troubles with reading.
"So they are warning us.....they are quite serious it seems." As they look over the carved word and the rest of the site both Leandros and Askr would be pelted with an acorn.
When they looked for the source, they would find the trees behind them lined with just too many squirrels. Far too many squirrels. Like picture a lot of squirrels....now double that, that's how many squirrels have come to possibly chase the men out of here.
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Post by Askr Mimameith on Jan 28, 2023 13:12:30 GMT -5
...Ah.
It is a lucky thing, really, that color does not rise easily to Askr's face; there's a subtle dusting of pink over the height of his cheeks, but it is not overly obvious beneath the shadows of the trees arching over the clearing, the canopy of the leaves overhead mercifully doing much to preserve his dignity. Leandros, too, is clearly pretending he did not notice the mishap, his voice soft, devoid of any mockery. It is impossible for him to not have noticed. He is... clearly choosing to be kind.
At least the first three letters had been accurate, he thinks-- a lot of them still look like meaningless lines and curves, the common alphabet elusive and difficult to remember, sounds and symbols seldom connecting the way they should in his mind. He knows the letters that form his name, knows some of the cleaner, simpler letters, but so many of them are still just a mass of nothingness to him without some form of reference. Some of the kinder-faced mercenaries have told him he has learned fast considering his age, but he has heard the hushed whispers, the ones that beg the question of why someone like him did not know to begin with.
"A threat, then," Askr murmurs, his brow furrowing just so. Perhaps the ghosts are a bit angry. That is... troubling. "...They are quite unhappy--"
He pauses mid-sentence, blinking as a dull, minor pain blooms somewhere at the back of his skull. He lifts his hand back, searching for a wound and finding none-- strange. What could have prompted that? He glances about, gaze flitting about the woods, over his shoulder, eventually landing on... a row of squirrels. An egregious amount. He does not think there should be that many present.
"...Mi-- Leandros," he says quietly. "...there are... squirrels. Do... we attempt to fight squirrels?"
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Post by Leandros Aurthurian on Jan 28, 2023 14:23:10 GMT -5
"I think there is a bit more to this dray than it would seem at first." Leandros slowly turns to face the squirrels. A large white squirrel scrambles to the front, looking a good bit sturdier than the others. Green runic markings cover its fur as it glares down at the two men.
"Leave here humans, you do not wish to invoke the wrath of the forest." The squirrel calls out in common, a chorus of chitters from its supporters rattle across the wind.
This certainly was strange....it could talk. Leandros knew of some magics that could allow that, but....why squirrels? If the aim was to harm people, surely there was a friendly bear or incouragable wolf nearby. That was of no concern at the moment, though.
"We are not here to harm the forest, we merely seek to see what has angered it." He looks to Askr, encouraging him to play along with this.
The squirrel would hop from the tree, shifting mid-air to become a goblin man. He stood at just about four feet tall dressed in hide armor and carrying a staff adorned with a bell made from an acorn. "Humans always want to harm the forest. This is why Murizag chased them from this place."
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Post by Askr Mimameith on Jan 28, 2023 14:51:02 GMT -5
Of all the things Askr has encountered in the three months he has spent in the world above ground, a talking, partially-glowing squirrel is not one he has seen before.
He does not know the significance of the runes that gleam against the squirrel's bone-pale fur, nor why it is capable of speaking so clearly in the common tongue, but he does know that this is a thing that most squirrels are not typically capable of doing. Most animals he knows of are not capable of speaking common, in fact, so it is... particularly strange that this squirrel speaks it so well. Still, perhaps his... priorities should not lie with focusing on the creature's command over language-- no, what likely matters more is its opposition to any human presence in the forest.
"...my... companion is correct," Askr says, quick to try and follow Leandros's lead, hoping it seems natural, especially since the words he speaks are true. "We ventured out this way to seek out the source of turmoil. We... do not want to harm the woods."
And then the squirrel leaps from its perch, its form shifting on its fall, fur and compact limps twisting and elongating into the form of a goblin, one clothed in armor made of animal skin, a staff made from the forest's own fruit cradled in his hand. So he was... in fact, not a squirrel, merely one capable of feigning the appearance of one. That made far more sense than an army of angry squirrels lurking in the trees.
"...Murizag," he mumbles, processing the name. "...Mister Murizag, is... the logging operation out here in the Hauntwood drawing your ire?"
"Of course it is!" the goblin cries, agitation thrumming through his body. "It is human disrespect at its most obvious! They come in, tear what they want apart, all without a care for what lives in the woods they destroy!"
Askr pauses for a moment at that, glancing back over to Leandros with something illegible burning low in those golden eyes-- it is... easy to understand the goblin's plight. It would be distressing to anyone to see parts of their home destroyed so recklessly without any consultation-- it is... no wonder that Murizag seems so intent on chasing them off.
"...I see. Then... you wish for the logging to stop?"
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Post by Leandros Aurthurian on Jan 28, 2023 15:11:05 GMT -5
Leandros too can empathize with the goblin to an extent....well he can try to at least. While his home would likely never be at threat, he did know the desire to protect it. He was a knight after all. His expression somehow softens even more as he looks towards the goblin.
"DO NOT PITY ME HUMAN!" The goblin shouts, much more insightful than he may seem on the surface.
"I apologize, that is not my intent....I am, in fact, impressed. You have found a way to defend your home and keep it safe without killing or even shedding blood to do so. Humans could certainly learn a lot from you." The knight smiled and motioned for the goblin and Askr to join him taking a seat around the long abandoned campfire.
The large knight lowers himself onto a stump with a sigh. Murizag reluctantly joins him, bell softly ringing as he does. The army of squirrels shift in the trees so they are never too far from their leader.
"Murizag, it is good to meet you. I am Leandros Aurthurian of Captiol Landing and this is my friend Askr of the Ashlands.....seeing as neither of us are from here, perhaps you can trust us to carry your terms back to the humans of this land.....Your home is important to you, but humans do need trees to help build their own homes and tools. Is there not an agreement to be made where everyone can win?"
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