The Tomb (Closed for Firmhanded Daddy)

Ambrosia_64

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The temperate forest was thick with trees and rather expansive, with very few trails leading through the many, many miles of forested land. It was home to all sorts of game, some of it dangerous-wolves, bears, the occasional cougar. Bandits sometimes laid in wait off the main trail, but for the most part it was devoid of people save a few woodsmen and hermits, a mine or two. And the werewolves, of course. But they hardly bothered anyone, being so deep in the forest, after all.

There were stories about tombs and treasures, but the only mapped place was an abandoned and decrepit castle near one edge of the forest, and that was bordered by a bustling village.

One of these rumored tombs was built by an ancient king long, long ago. Recently, there were rumors that a map had been found and laboriously copied, sold. A great treasure lied within, but finding the place and overcoming its dangers-that was the trick.


There was another permanent inhabitant of the forest, a warrior of sorts who stayed out of sight and out of trouble. She occasionally helped lost travelers, but it wasn't often and people only described the foreign, exotic woman as "serious and stand off ish-but beautiful." She had come to these forests as a child, growing into an experienced woodswoman, tracker, and fighter. It was well known an outlaw matching her description lived there-but no bounty hunter had ever been able to track her down-or come back alive once he had.

Her name was Meridessa Arian Lennoi, and she was from a small isle far out at sea called Courtelli. She was the daughter of a prominent house, one of three on the island. Courtelli had only two exports-sand, and women. To have one out and about instead of enslaved or in a brothel was strange-not that they were plentiful in the first place. Her darker, dusky tanned skin had a reddish undertone and her messy black hair made her islander origins obvious, those contrasting, bright blue eyes unmistakable for her race. They were a beautiful shade of Caribbean blue and her most distinctive feature in her heart shaped face. Prominent cheekbones, a pert nose, and full lips all added up to a rather attractive woman. She wasn't a perfect specimen like the women in the whore houses-she had seen her share of battle, and bore the scars. A pale raised line ran across the right side of her jaw, starting to the right of her full lips and disappearing under her hair, running down over her jawline and ending on the right side of her neck. Smaller ones here and there on her arms and legs, the largest of which was on her left bicep-she bore the unmistakable scars of a large animal's claws-most likely a cougar. There were no doubt more, but her rough, patched together cloak and green, loose tunic hid them. Beneath that she wore a leather curaiss for protection, her legs unrestricted for better movement. She had a carved bow and the a leather quiver-the crude, simple arrows fletched with feathers and sometimes, oddly-leaves. She didn't have a sword, or any sort of metal-just two hand carved tonfa on her back, sheathed behind the quiver, their handles sticking out from her back. A belt hung off one curved hip,(an indication she had feminine curves beneath the loose tunic) a water skin and a few pouches on it. One such pouch had a wooden flute like instrument sticking out of it.

She was toned and fit, a petite, five foot three powerhouse who, when pressed, no doubt would provide something of a challenge.

It was Courtelli that wanted her dead. Supposedly her own house was offering the bounty.

Suspicious by nature and very, very watchful of any odd activities going on in the forests, Arian was currently following a group of men, prowling along silently on cloth, simple boots.

Arian kept herself hidden, tracking their movements, spying on them out of curiosity and a bit of suspicion. She only caught the odd word here and there, for they spoke too quickly for her to fully understand-but they didn't sound up to anything good. There were five of them, large brutish men arguing over a map of some kind. They were to meet with others deeper in the forest-information Arian managed to glean from their conversation.

She had stalked them to their temporary camp last night, and at last they had packed up and gotten moving again in the middle of the day. She wondered who they were and what they were here for.
 
Krisstos swatted fly 1032 and continued his way deeper into the forest. They were not really on a trail; there were none this deep in. He could not believe how dense this place was, it was almost a bloody jungle! He shifted as the sheath of his long sword got caught on a root the size of a small house and he cursed this whole idea for the 10th time. He couldn’t wait to get inside this place and away from all of this nature.

His shoulder length brown hair was mated with sweat, the studded leather armor that covered his body was not really suited for trekking through a humid forest. He had to admit, some of the fact that he was miserable had nothing to do with nature, some of it had to do with the company. This deal felt too good to be true. Most of these guys were dead weight anyway, he didn’t need this much of an escort, just enough to scare off bandits.

He was getting a pretty bad vibe off these guys in general. Last night in camp they were realllly interested in how he was planning to bypass traps and such. He was really feeling a double cross coming, and he was ready for it. He had already hidden the map and swapped a fake in the scroll case that he carried out in the open.

“So when is our rendezvous again? I know it is coming up pretty soon right?”

A big man with a nose that looked to have been broken one too many times answered ”Should be any moment now”

There was something in his grin that set off warning bells inside Kriss’ head. Yes, this was definitely an ambush.

“Excellent I hope they have some spare water. I think I drew some bad water from our last stop.” The lie was smooth cool, creative and simple. It was totally believable and told with no hesitation. Don’t let them know you are on to them.

He reached into his pack which was fairly full of items and pulled out a sun rod, stuffing it into his belt. No one really noticed, they were all on the look out for the coming party now.

Another several moments of walking and a group of five men arrived all also armed. Now the odds were stacked very highly against the young rogue. He didn’t mind, he always liked to play the odds. Though these odds were pretty high; 10 to 1.

A big lanky man spoke up ”Alright, time for fun and games is over. Why don’t you give us that map and we won’t kill you.”

Krisstos grinned at him, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “I have to say. From one professional to another. You run a pretty piss poor strong arm crew here. Broken nose here tipped me off yesterday you were gonna jump me. I’ve had a full day to make plans”

In one fluid motion he drew some well concealed daggers that were designed to look like part of his armor and flung them at the nearest two men. They both dropped dead before they could even draw a weapon. Kriss quickly drew the sun rod and his long sword, dropped the sun rod, then struck it hard with his sword.

The objects are alchemical and designed to light up when agitated, but they will explode when pierced. Krisstos cracked the shell with that strike, then quickly leaped clear as the object exploded, sending a blinding light and smoke in all directions. No one was killed by the blast, but several close by were blinded temporarily. The smoke concealed the rogues movements and allowed him to hide effectively.

”Find him! NOW!”

Quietly as a stalking cat he climbed up the lower branches of a tree and pressed himself against the bulk of it to conceal himself. He scanned the scene as the men looked around like a kicked ant hill, and that was when he spied a strange woman who appeared to be stalking the group. He raised an eyebrow and looked her over. To say she was beautiful would be stating the sun was bright if looked directly into. He recognized her kind, they were normally not seen outside of brothels. What in the nine hells was she doing here? Their eyes met briefly, before his attention was once more drawn to the men trying to kill him.

He crept out to the length of the branch and shifted so he could leap down on top of the man from behind. The long sword bit deep into him and he didn’t have a chance to cry out.

He put his back against the tree again and called out. “You are already 3 men down. Let’s call this over now before there is any more loss of life”

He quickly darted away from that spot, he slid between an evergreen’s branches and let himself mold between the needles. He raised his long sword poised to strike if anyone came near the tree.
 
The tone changed as the two groups met, Arian tilting her head slightly, puzzling over the words. The other men seemed to want something from the brown haired, talkative one, and Arian frowned when they half encircled him.

It didn't seem he had a friend among them. Arian slipped her bow into her hands, knocking an arrow. She narrowed her eyes, taking aim at one of the burlier, uglier men-and blinked in surprise as the ganged up on man attacked first.

Arian certainly approved. Her target drew a blade, lifting his arm as he did so-and Arian and let the arrow fly, the barbed projectile piercing through the man's armpit, driving into his heart just as Krisstos had thrown down his sun rod, striking it with his sword-!

Arian turned her face away from the blinding light, lowering her bow to rub furiously at her eyes. Magic! Always fucking magic! She didn't get it as badly as those on top of it, but it still stunned her a moment.

She could hear the men below, angry and searching for their quarry-and when she opened her no longer smarting eyes, she realized she was looking smack dab at the object of their ire. Arian blinked, not moving, half alarmed at being discovered but he broke eye contact first, turning his attention to his pursuers and moving to drop down on an unsuspecting target.

He called out something she didn't understand, and bolted. Huh. Arian slipped her bow back across her back and dropped out of the tree, landing on her feet with a slight bend of her knees, strong legs bracing the impact. She pulled the curved wooden tonfa from their slings, seemingly unconcerned she was standing right where several heavy foot falls were headed.

Three of the remaining men came hurtling out of the foliage, blades drawn and curses abound-and stopped short to see a woman standing there, not at all the man they were after-but before they could quite process this, she was already charging them, an enraged battle cry that caused two men to back off to the sides-and the third to raise his sword in a panic as she leapt, twirling the curved wood to catch and divert his weapon, swinging the other to brutally crack against the side of his skull.

Her right foot kicked off the ground to spin her 90 or so degrees and hurl one of the weapons into the stomach of another man, scooping up the first man's sword and bearing it in either hand just in time to block the downward strike of the third. She growled as he bore his weight down on her, the sword in her hands shaking from the strain-before Arian managed to twist it to the side and slide his blade to her left-bashing her head into his in a violent head butt to stagger him.

She plunged the sword into him with a sound of exertion, turned back on the last man-and had the pleasure of watching him drop his blade and run from her. She drew her bow and shot a fourth man who came crashing into the scene through the eye. The entire exchange hadn't even lasted two minutes.

Arian picked up and sheathed her tonfa, grabbing hold of the sword skewered through the dead man and withdrawing it from the ground to find the others. (If he's killed them, she should come up on him just as he downs the last man, if that's okay! : ) )
 
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He had intended to continue to fight with hit and run tactics and use the terrain to his advantage. What he did not count on was some battle crazed woman shouting and charging a pack of sword wielding thugs. He swore and burst from the brush violently, making a wild dash for the scene of carnage.

He was too far away to assist the beautiful warrior, she ended things before he could close the gap, instead he intercepted the last man as he was fleeing the scene. It was the large lanky man whom appeared to be the one in charge. He snarled as he saw the rogue appear from the shadows of the trees. “All you had to do was give us the map. Now I am going to make you suffer!”

Steel flashed as he yanked free a long kukri he had sheathed on his back. Charging at Krisstos he lunged, but the shaggy brown haired man’s reactions were quicker. He leaned away from the thrust, throwing the knife slash off balance, planted both hands on the ground firmly and released his grip on his own blade. His strong legs wrapped up the lanky arm and wrenched his arm hard. He quickly turned the momentum so that he hyper extended the elbow, but he didn’t hold it, he yanked hard one time, heard a pop, then rolled into the body as it writhed in pain.

As he moved, his hand scooped up the kukri that had been dropped in agony, he planted his knees on either side of his chest and drove the blade down quickly. As the light faded from his eyes he looked down with a measure of sadness. “All you had to do was hold up your end of the bargain. No one had to die.”

He reclaimed his sword, wiped it clean on the fallen man’s clothing and sheathed it, then moved back toward where the fighting had taken place and he found Arian there. He eyed her curiously as he approached, and retrieved his daggers that he also cleaned and then replaced.

“Hello there, thank you for not murdering me.”

His tone was calm, warm, welcoming. He had no weapons drawn and his hands were well away from them. He was however not off guard; he was balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, ready to spring into action if she showed any sign of aggression. He was like a panther at a lake, noticing the lion down stream; not looking for a fight did not mean not being prepared for one.
 
The warrior had watched him gather and clean his weapons, noting where he sheathed them in a mix of idle curiosity and paranoia. Once he was no longer holding his anything, she turned slightly to toss the sword onto its dead owner in a dismissive fashion.

He spoke and those arresting Caribbean eyes returned to him, offering, initially, only a sharp exhale in response as if to say 'Enough men were already trying'. A glance around at the bodies before she looked at him again, hooking her thumb on the unarmed side of her belt, near the flute. She seemed to be trying to decide if she wanted to be curious or not. Like him, she was also prepared for a fight-then again, Arian was always prepared for a fight.

After another moment of silence, and curiosity seemed to win out.

"...not friends?" She gave a nod to the men, wondering how bad the betrayal had been. Her accented English sounded melodic, an odd softening of the harsh consonants, a lilt to her vowels. It wasn't hard to understand, just different. "Ten fighting the one...why?" She looked him over a moment, reflecting on his appearance. It was the ten to one that had caused her to step in. Still, he had been traveling with them, and it was the group she'd been following suspiciously, nevermind that it had splintered.

She frowned slightly.

"Why travel here...at all?"
 
The two were studying each other with curiosity and caution. When those eyes locked onto him he felt sparks shoot through him from head to toe. Those eyes! They were stunning and distracting; possibly dangerous. So pretty much just like the rest of her.

He listened as she spoke. His stance relaxed further, his shoulders rolled back, and he settled back fully onto his feet as he carefully made out her broken English words. He smiled at her, his own blue eyes warming with the genuine smile as he responded. “Why did they attack me? I had something valuable and they wanted to take it. The problem is I was much smarter than them.”

He went to rake his fingers through his hair, then stopped, realizing he was covered in blood. “So I will be happy to tell you why I am here on the way to the nearest source of running water?” He let out a soft chuckle.

“nine hells, when I first saw you lurking around I almost fell out of that damned tree. I knew someone was stalking our party. I never expected it to be a beautiful warrior. You are very good at sneaking by the way. It took effort on my part to detect you.”
 
Her brow furrowed a bit as she parsed through his words, the slightest of frowns still on her full lips. He was being friendly, and while that might have made her extra suspicious, he seemed to be admitting to having something of value, and she had no idea why a devious person would do so.

Arian sort of cast a glance behind and around her as if someone might be listening, a slight lift of her brows as she tried to figure out why he would admit as such to a stranger. She had fought on his side, but that shouldn't brook trust, she wouldn't have thought.

Feeling vaguely uncomfortable, roped in by his friendliness, Arian shifted awkwardly. He spoke his request and she briefly wondered why she was still standing here, now that the battle was over. She could continue to follow him in secret if she really cared to, but with only one man in the woods off trail suspiciously versus ten, she didn't really have much interest anymore.

She wondered idly what it was the others had wanted to take, not that there was anything Arian herself would be interested in, material wise. Still, what did he have that men would up and try to kill for? Some other infernal magic thing? He was talking again, a bit too fast for her to fully follow-she let the words wash over her, catching most of the last two sentences. "Be good, or be dead." She said with a shrug, less humble and more...brutally practical. As brash as she had been in the fight, there were a lot of things that could kill a regular, smaller human like her. It made one wonder what kind of life she had lived.

There was a pause, a beat or two as she tried to decide to continue the engagement or not. Curiosity, again, was winning out.

She pointed in a direction of the nearest stream, hesitated a moment-and then went ahead and started to lead the way, casting a glance over her shoulder rather often. She was very quiet on her cloth boots, and left virtually no trail. Arian seemed to move around the forest, rather than through it. Few tracks as she moved from rocks to roots to harder ground, no broken branches or scraped bark.

He would have a better look at her cloak and equipment than the woman, the somewhat rough stitching holding various dyed green pieces of cloth together, the mismatch making it more camouflaged, if nothing else. Her quiver was also rather crude and hand made, but the carved wooden bow-well, that was rather intricate and beautiful, a carved vine and branch depiction in the wood, no doubt a lengthy project. The tonfa were odd choices for a weapon.

Then again, they were the weapon of choice in Courtelli. He had seen the results of their use.
 
She seemed confused. She did that allot. He was watching her, sometimes directly, other times out of the corner of his eye. He was constantly studying this exotic, beautiful creature. He was not intentionally trying to keep her here, but she did seem useful. Obviously she knew these woods better than he. However if she wanted to leave that was her choice.

Judging by her speech pattern she didn’t speak English well, and he put two and two together. She must not understand social queues very well either. Wait, was she a complete loner out here? The realization clicked when she made her comment about being good or being dead. While that was true of course, it was most especially true when you had no one else to rely on. His heart reached out to the woman. Just how long had she been out here all on her own? Judging by her weapon choices, her gear, it must have been a long time. Yet she had not succumbed to the wild, she had made it her home. He marveled at that, but it put a huge smile on his face. She was a kindred spirit.

While he did not have to grow up in the wild, he did have to grow up in a kill or be killed environment where it was ‘be good or be dead’. He was a street kid whom had to learn how to steal to survive. He quickly learned that it was better to use misdirection and confusion than to rely on speed and the knife to get what you wanted. Cutpurses eventually met the hangman. His skills transformed as he grew, and he started to learn lock picking, and that only got him curious about contraptions. Once he was curious he started learning about secret doors and traps. That was it, the sky was the limit. He started taking on legitimate adventuring gigs and getting paid for his work instead of stealing from people.

So yeah, he felt this girl’s story, only he could not imagine how badly the isolation must have affected her. In a big city one could never truly be alone.

“Very True.” He finally replied to her comment about her stealth. He took care to slow the cadence of his words down a little.

She paused, seeming to try and decide something, then she moved off in a direction and indicated that he should follow, so he did so. He marveled at her grace, and with the ease that she moved with the forest. Her tracks were barely visible, even to his trained eyes. The only tracks she seemed to leave were on hard surfaces, the deposit of soil from her boots. If not for that one would have to rely on tracking hounds, or magic to find her. She had amazing skill. He moved behind her and while he was just as quiet as she which was impressive considering his heavier armor and his weapons he did leave the occasional imprint, and snap the occasional twig. He was not trying to leave no trace or hide his tracks, his movements were simply silent out of habit. A man whom trained himself to walk like a whisper.

“So thank you for helping me. I am not certain I have anything you would find value in to repay your kindness with. You clearly have no use for currency. Hmmmm. Well if you decide to stick around tonight I can repay you with one thing that everyone needs. I’ll feed you.” Again he was careful to slow his words down, even more so this time as this was much more information and he knew she would need time to process it all.
 
Arian felt awkward again as he thanked her, saying nothing because, well-she was just leading him to a river. And as for killing those men-well, they rightly deserved it, ganging up on him out of greed for whatever it was he carried. Ten against one! They even waited for their friends just to have those ten! Cowards. She was an underdog, and so she found herself sometimes fighting for other underdogs.

She reflected that he had slowed his speech a little. Not in a way that insulted her, made her feel dumb-but just enough she could understand more of what he was saying, feel talked to instead of talked at. She would have never asked him to do it, but here he was doing it all the same.

The isolation Arian lived in was rarely interrupted. She was surprised she had any voice at all, she used it so rarely. It was nice to be talked to, maybe. Even if she would have gruffly denied as such.

"Might stay." She answered, a shrug of her shoulders as if it did not matter much to her one way or another. But when she spoke again, casting another curious glance back at him, that didn't seem to quite be the case. "Hear reason for being here." She pondered a moment. "Hear of the valuable." Though she seemed to have zero possessive interest in it, she apparently was curious about it, and by extension, him.

She seemed to be a bit easier about talking now that he had slowed his speech. As if she felt a little more confident in her hit and miss English-or at the very least, that she would not be mocked for it. At least, in that small way, he'd gained a bit of her trust.

The sound of running water ahead, and sure enough-through a bit more of forest, they came to a small creek, not quite fast enough to knock a person over, and only mid chest level at it's deepest. Looking down the banks one way, it curved around a rocky outcropping. In the other direction, endless trees and a slight downward slope.

"Probably cold." Whether that was good or bad wasn't entirely clear. She removed and hung her cloak over a branch, slipping out of the cross belt that held the bow and quiver, her tonfa.

She stepped into the creek until it was just above mid thigh, the end of her tunic catching water as she washed the blood from her own hands.
 
He perked a brow as she replied finally about staying, but not for the food. She wanted to know about why he was here, and why he was attacked. He smiled at her back and shifted his pack slowly. Ah, well lets see how that is going to play out shall we?

“I am here because I have a map. A map identifying a long hidden tomb that I intend to explore. These guys tried to kill me for the map because they could pawn the map off to other people for easy money. Pfft. Small sighted fools. I am here for the thrill of exploring this place! Bypassing the ancient traps, studying the ancient architecture. What can I say? I enjoy the challenge.”

He paused as he heard the sound of running water. They had finally made it to the creek. She noted that it was likely cold. He just flashed her a sly grin and gave a shrug. He didn’t give a damn. He just needed to wipe the gore off and refill his water skin. He watched her wade in without a care and he raised a brow. Well he wasn’t about to do that.

He worked his boots off, and slowly worked the series of buckles off that kept the studded leather of his leggings together. There was very little blood on them and he cared much less about that. He slid his pack down next to the shore as well as the scroll case and then worked the buckles to undo the studded leather tunic and slide it off. Beneath he was wearing a worn and tattered pair of woven cloth pants and an equally worn shirt.

He waded into the water with a slight gasp at the chill, but quickly buckled his knees to let the frigid water envelop his body. He burst from the surface with a sound of satisfaction and began rubbing the blood from his hands and face. “That is so much better. I wish they would have just left. I dislike taking lives without reason.” That comment was more to himself, but it was easily overheard.

Now that his underclothing was soaked and pressed to his skin she could see his form. For a man whom was not a warrior he was in remarkable shape. Though he did not have the hard body of a warrior his muscle was lean and he was quite fit. Of the two of them he would lose a contest of power, but there was a reason he was able to move so deftly and strike with lightning quickness and snake like precision.

If she took the time to study him while he was busy washing she would see he had his share of scars. A large puckered wound right beneath his left shoulder could easily have come from an arrow or perhaps a rapier. A perfect line of puncture wounds rolled around under his left arm. He turned toward the sun a moment to estimate the time and she could see a clear scorch burn near his right hip. It was very focused. Almost as if he had been hit by a highly concentrated force of heat or energy.
 
A map? They were going to kill him for a map? There were a few words that followed and Arian wasn't sure of their meaning, but she got the gist of it. She was pretty sure, anyway. But...hidden tomb? He had already moved towards the water and would not see her thoughtful frown. There were many hidden things, here and there throughout the forest.

She wanted to see this map, not because she needed help finding any such place-though she supposed there could be a location she had somehow missed-but because she anxiously wanted to see which hidden place it might be leading him to. The forest had its dangers and Arian had managed to craftily avoid and survive most of them-but there was a place even she hesitated to venture into.

Perhaps she would inquire further later. She also wanted to know what an ark had to do with anything, if he was looking for a tomb in the middle of the expansive forest. No boats out here, as far as she knew-and Arian knew alot about the forest and it's holdings.

Arian had bathed early this morning already, and didn't have too much blood on her, somehow. The cloak probably had most of it, other than what was on her hands and forearms. He burst from the water and spoke some more, drawing her gaze to him with a slight frown. Without reason? She seemed to misunderstand slightly, or perhaps not.

"Much reason." She said seriously, her Caribbean blue eyes narrowing a fraction, accentuating their almound shape. "If not you? Someone else. Maybe someone weak." She seemed to think that if it weren't Krisstos they had targeted, it would have soon been someone else.

She had absolutely zero qualms about the death of the men. No regret, no sympathy, nothing. It might be a little disconcerting how dismissive she was about the violence. Then again, she had been out here for God only knew how long. Perhaps she had seen too much violence, or too many bad men, or simply was more animalistic than most.

Krisstos, nor anyone else for that matter, had any idea the amount of things Arian had seen. Or lived through.

Men were built very differently, she reflected idly. He was not as big as most men she had fought, but she judged he could handle himself much like she did-less brute strength and more craft. The thing about Arian was, for a smaller woman-she fought like an eight foot tall berserker. She was toned and strong and had very powerful legs-but she was merely human, albeit a very fiery, sometimes crazy one. He most likely outweighed her, though perhaps not by much given her muscle tone.

She remained rather feminine looking, though, rather than bulky.

He could fight. She had seen as such. When so many others were so much bigger than you, you got rather good at it. He didn't look like he'd been pampered somewhere safe, anyway-he had battle scars much like she did. What sort of life had he lived? Where was he from? He had yet to provide his name, but maybe he wanted it kept to himself, as she did.

Arian realized she was studying him and his nearly transparent clothing much too closely, even if just his chest and back, given the water level.

Arian turned abruptly, heading for the bank. Her tunic concealed much of her own figure, though what looked to be part of a tattoo was visible on her right shoulder-a curved, broken circle shape-could be seen as she left the water. The claw marks on her bicep, the various smaller scars on her legs and arms-some of which were clearly defensive on her forearms-and just the one on her face, starting to the right of her full lips and curving under her jawline and onto her throat before disappearing behind her dark, somewhat unruly hair. As if someone had sliced her when her head was tipped back. All of these he may have noticed earlier, and the worst of which were beneath the tunic, and beneath the leather armor under that.

She picked up the cloak and her weapon sling belt, but did not don either. The sun wasn't quite setting, but it was getting there. She figured they could camp here for now. She wanted to know about this map and where he was going. She had a grim inkling she already knew.
 
He was enjoying the soak in the water even if it was ice cold. He was even contemplating making a game of it with her. He thought better of that part though. He didn’t quite know her well enough to know if she would welcome that inter action, or try to drown him for it. So he just enjoyed the brief respite, and the company. She wasn’t the best conversationalist, but then again she was still better at it than the guy with the broken nose!

He heard the water slosh as she started to get out and he turned around toward her. She did not gather her things, so he wondered if she was planning to stick around after all. He shrugged and followed suit. Realizing he was for all intent and purpose pretty close to naked he strategically picked up his back and smiled.

“I am going to put on a fresh pair of clothing that isn’t soaking wet. Then I will live up to my promise even though you didn’t accept. Since it looks like you are sticking around for at least a little while. I will be back shortly.”

He walked about ten yards away from camp and stepped behind a bush to shed his clothing and change out of his wet garments and into fresh ones, then he came back to their make shift camp sight to put his armor back on and hang his wet clothing out to dry. He was off again after that.

It did not take long for him to catch dinner, as dinner was just hanging around. He encountered a rather huge Boa Constrictor stalking a squirrel when he interrupted the game. A well placed thrust with his dagger put the Boa to sleep forever and he wrapped the large, muscular snake around his neck and made his way back to camp.

“See? Told you I would feed you. You can even get some use out of the skin. Judging by your garments you are quite adept at leatherwork.”

He grinned at her with a soft chuckled. “I have been horribly rude this entire time. Where are my manners? My name is Krisstoss Talinar. Most people just call me Kriss.” He extended his hand to her to shake.
 
Arian had set about making a small fire, her cloak spread on the ground for her to settle down on looking up at his return and following him with her eyes as he left again.

When he came back with the huge snake, she popped to her feet with no small amount of alarm, those pretty eyes widened almost comically. He had been gone for two minutes and a snake had found him?!

"!" She had pulled a small bone knife from her belt as she stood, prepared to try and hack the thing to death-when she realized he was in no distress, and the snake hung limply. She blinked at him, then the snake, then the knife in her hand-and laughed. "Thought it alive!" She exclaimed, another bit of her pretty laughter, the spark of mirth in her eyes lighting her entire face up, the most expressive he had seen her so far.

She was very beautiful, but when she smiled...well. She became all the more lovely. Perhaps because it was so unexpected.

She listened to him speak, receiving the name she had thought he would be keeping-and then her eyes flickered to his extended one, a faint smile still curving her lips even as she quizzically pondered the gesture. She retrieved the small, flute like instrument from her hip, depositing it in his hand. It was a nice piece of craftsmanship-hand carved wood in the shape of a long, narrow bird, intricately detailed and ending in a happy, open beak. As if it were whistling. She gave a nod of pleased finality at her offering, then turned to fix the cloak she'd ruffled up in her hurry to come to his aid before resettling upon it.

"Arian." She introduced simply, her expression returning to it's neutral state-but seeming more friendly, somehow.
 
She bolted up with alarm at his return and he spun, expecting to see nothing short of a horde of goblins riding down upon him on wargs. Instead she was concerned about the dead snake around his neck. In her increasingly endearing way she brokenly sputtered out how she thought the snake was alive.

Then the most unexpected thing happened, she laughed! She had been a remarkable creature before, but now she was the crown jewel of all the nature around her. She burst into life, lighting the heavens and putting the sun to shame. He could not help but share in her mirth, his own warm, rich laughter following hers. His laughter was not musical, but there was a quality to his voice, even his laughter that drew people in and held them. He had a natural charisma about him that just could not be quantified.

He smiled at her, to soften the situation, to show that his laughter was out of mirth, and not to make fun of her.

It was his turn to be confused when instead of offering her hand to him, she offered a hand carved flute. He blinked a bit unsure what to do. He did not want to refuse it, as he didn’t wish to offend her. “Thank you” he spoke and then quickly reached into his pack and offered her the only thing she had showed interest in; the map.

He smiled when she offered her name. “I am glad to have met you Arian.”

He paused a moment then continued softly as he looked over the flute. “This is a very fine work. I’m afraid this is not an instrument I can play. I was actually just trying to do an introduction custom called a handshake. I chose to give you the map because I trust you. It is the only thing I have you are interested in.”

He paused again with a rueful smile, a bit ashamed. “I used to be a thief Arian. Understanding people with one look was an important skill. You hand make your own clothing, you don’t use metal. It just gets in the way and is too loud. You have shown increasing interest in why those men wanted to kill me and why I am out here. Either you are protecting the place I am going and are planning to kill me, or you know it is extremely dangerous and want to stop me.”

He reached into his pack, russled around for a few moments and pulled out a few pieces of metal that just looked like long metal stakes. He drove them into the ground at odd angles and then skewered the snake on the ends, then he settled back across from her with the fire between her, gazing at her with those quiet, intent blue eyes.
 
Arian smiled back, seeming slightly surprised by his stated gladness. That...wasn't the usual sentiment. Then again, she wasn't usually sitting fireside laughing with the rare, occaisional people she interacted with. Usually, it went more like the men today had.

Usually, people never knew she was there at all.

She unrolled the map, not intending to keep it, just read it. She could understand maps depicting the layout of the land okay...even if she couldn't read whatever words might be written on them. "Very easy." She said absently about the flute, not sure what a handshake was, but she felt a little bad she messed it up.

He said he trusted her, and Arian seemed uncomfortable again, her Caribbean blue eyes flickering to him over the top of the map before she let it roll itself up again. She seemed almost...concerned? Worried about him?

He went on and her eyes narrowed slightly as he described what he knew and observed of her, and the two conclusions he had arrived at. She was silent, tapping the map lightly against one of her toned, shapely calves while seemingly considering him. "You, fight me?" She said slowly, not sounding like she was threatening, but seemingly, genuinely curious what his plan had been. If she had indeed been out to kill him, he had accompanied her knowing it, and must have expected to be the one leaving alive.

If she had been planning to stop him, surely this meant force, and then he must have expected to defeat her then, too.

...Krisstos was not afraid of her, Arian realized.

"You think...easy fight?" It was hard to tell, for a moment, if she was dangerous-or mildly amused.

After a moment, Arian stood up and moved around the fire, a certain...power to her movements, her stride. The more dangerous of her weapons were back on her cloak, however, and she didn't seem to be plotting murder...indeed, she unrolled the map and settled on her knees beside him, holding it so he too could see it, maybe even take one end of it so she could point.

"Wrong." She said, tracing a different, slightly deviating path that led further north than the map indicated. There was also a missing river. She tapped the drawing of the tomb, frowning. "Very, very bad place." She didn't make eye contact very often, seemed to find it uncomfortable-but she was looking at him now, a very serious, somber expression. She may have had no intentions of trying to stop him from going, but she felt she had to warn him, in the very least. "Bad magic."

She nodded slowly as her eyes drifted back to the map. She had only been there once, several years ago. She couldn't imagine why anyone would visit a second time-or even the first, to be honest.
 
He pondered her words about how making the flute was very easy. He found that impressive considering the life style she lead, no real training, a lack of proper tools, and the immense amount of detail. In the city this woman could make money hand over fist as an artisan, it was a shame such a talent was used for carving wooden flutes, making patchwork leather jerkins, and killing.

Their eyes locked when he mentioned trust and she seemed of all things to be concerned. He pondered this for a moment and then just flashed her a slow, knowing grin. Did she think him a fool for trusting her? Likely she did; but that was because she did not understand him. She did not understand the level in which he could read a person with just a small handful of interactions and peer into the depth of their soul.

She spoke about fighting him, and then asked if he considered her an easy fight. He met her eyes and she was already making her way over to him. He made no move, and simply watched her with an almost irritating level of calm. No, he was not afraid of her. When she settled down next to him he finally intended to reply when she unrolled the map and began indicating holes in the map. Apparently the map was wrong.

He smiled at her as she explained that the place was dangerous and had bag magic. These things seemed not to concern him. He shrugged off that explanation. He drew the conversation back to the first points. His voice was soft, warm and earnest, indicating just how deeply he felt.

“I never intended to fight you if I did not have to. I wanted to see what you would do, and what you wanted.”

He paused to let that sink in, then he continued on.

“An easy fight? Not a chance. You are stronger than me, but I think I am faster than you. In a fight between us it would come down to if I could keep away from your power long enough to exhaust you. Those odds are about this thin.”

He slowly pulled out one of his knives, handle first and showed her the edge with his thumb, indicating the edge of the knife as if to indicate the odds were razor thin.

“I believe that if you and I fought with the intent to kill, one of us would die and I would not like that. I enjoy your company.”

He used the blade of the knife to part the flesh of the snake to check on the progress.

“almost done.”

He looked back at the tomb on the map, then back into her eyes. She was obviously worried about going to this place. How to help ease her fears a little. A thought popped into his mind. He snatched his pack and rummaged all the way into the bottom until he found an old familiar lump of iron. It was an old pad lock that he kept with him.

“You have been here before. Lots of danger? Traps? I am an expert with traps and locks. Watch.”

He pushed the heavy padlock shut until the mechanism engaged and set it on the ground so that the lock mechanism was facing up. He reached into the depths of one sleeve and a small kit of tools slid from a cleverly hidden thong.

He selected two small wire looking tools and began inserting the wires into the locking mechanism at different angles. It took about twenty seconds of twisting and prodding until there was an audible snick and the padlock popped open. He flashed a triumphant grin and looked up at her. As he placed the tools back in the kit and replaced it back in the thong he explained.

“I have about four of those I keep with me. I lock them, then pick them open at night as a relaxation exercise before bed. It helps me get to sleep. Opening locks, disarming traps, exploring places that other people are afraid to go is what I do.”

He paused and placed the lock back in his back casually and then smiled again.

“You do not have to come with me, but you do have to share a meal with me, or I will be personally insulted! That…and I can’t eat a whole boa constrictor by myself. I hate to waste all that and I didn’t bring enough salt to preserve it.”
 
Doubtful. Arian's tenacity had kept her alive through many perilous situations-she wasn't sure she could be exhausted. Though, maybe he would give her a run for her money. She didn't care to speculate, really.

He was showing her something with the heavy padlock, but Arian couldn't really tell what he was doing. He went to put the lock away, but she held out a hand for it, taking it into her lap and looking it over, peering into the keyhole at all the inner workings. "Not just traps." She said, a scowl briefly contorting her pretty features. "Magic." Arian said again, her low tone full of bitter distrust of even the word, those Caribbean blue eyes narrowed to slits.

She handed the lock back, her scowl deepening. Did he just insinuate she was afraid of the tomb? Arian wasn't sure. "Not afraid. Smart." She said, coming to her feet. She cast the campsite a glance, then moved to gather her things. She had done what she'd intended to do, which was warn him. If he went anyway, she supposed his corpse would decorate the tomb's halls. And it seemed like he was going to go anyway. It was too bad, Arian decided.

Arian considered him a moment, almost regretful. "Goodbye Krisstos." About the snake, Arian had the manners to look apologetic. "No meat." She said. Ah. Courtelli islanders were vegetarians, save for fish. She looked around once more, then turned and disappeared into the forests.
 
Everything began to fall apart.

He went to put the lock up and she scooped it up to look it over and went on about magic. He was not afraid of magic. He was skilled enough to disable or evade magical traps as well. One did not life as long as he did, doing what he did without learning how.

“Thank you for the warning. I can deal with magical traps too. I have encountered them before. Curses, undead. I’ve seen pretty much everything there is to see.”

He frowned as she seemed to mistake his intention. He shook his head slowly. “I did not mean you were afraid to go there. I have never seen an ounce of fear from you. You are more like me, you are a thinker. Part of the reason I like you.”

It was too late to mitigate the situation though, she was already gathering her things. Obviously he had insulted her. To top it all off she refused the meal, saying that she didn’t eat meat.

He felt a spike of irritation, but kept it in check. Instead he called out. “Good hunting, Arian. I will let you know what I find inside.”

He waited until he suspected she was out of earshot, then he growled at himself. “Great job idiot. Insult the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, bring her something she won’t eat, then chase her away.”

He picked at the snake without appetite, then seeing as there was no one to take watch rotations with him he began to prepare to go to bed. He put out the fire, unable to afford the warmth or the light and quickly vaulted high up into the nearest tree. He drove a handful of mountain climbing pitons into the thick trunk of the tree and set up a mesh net. There he lay out his bed roll and settled up to look at the stars. It was hours before he could fall asleep, he could not stop seeing those haunting blue eyes every time he closed his.
 
Arian moved silently through the darkened forest, staying nearer to the creek so she could follow the sound-in many places of the forest, the trees were thick enough to block out even starlight.

She would get some distance away, then settle in for a nap, she decided. She was tired, it'd been a long day and a long night previously. Good hunting, he had said to her.

He hadn't thought her afraid, and also hadn't assumed she would be going to the tomb herself. Good. Smart man.

"I will let you know what I find inside."

Or not so smart. He thought he could handle things, and Arian supposed he either would miraculously manage-or would get deeper and deeper and then succomb.

She frowned in the dark. Why was he going? Treasure? No, he said he wanted to explore, and something about see some sort of ark...whatever that meant. Perhaps she had misunderstood. Very likely, in fact.

After a few hours, she too climbed into the thick boughs overhead, resting her back against the thick tree trunk, one leg dangling off the branch, the other resting on it. Every few nights she would loop herself to one and sleep deeply, but most of the time-Arian mostly dozed, mildly alert to her surroundings and aware enough not to tumble to her death.

Cat napping, if you would.

She would not think about this Krisstos. Or how he was going to die. Was he going to die? Suppose he could indeed over come the magic in the tomb? Could he also fight off its guardians?

Frowning, she realized she was indeed thinking about Krisstos. He was certainly the only friendly face Arian had encountered in a long, long time, and he didn't seem to judge her too harshly. He didn't seem to need or want anything from her, could take care of himself.

There, see? Krisstos would take care of himself. She need not think about him anymore.
////////////////////////////


It would be another two days and of difficult navigation to reach the place Arian had re-indicated on the map. When he had arrived at the river she had mentioned, he would find a fairly new length of rope crossing it-on the other side, a leaf edged arrow kept it pinned to the trunk of a tree.

It would prove, if he crossed there, to be a shallowest point in the river, and the safest point to cross.

Eventually, he'd arrive to see a heavily forested hill with a large stone building jutting out of it, a tall, dark passage that seemed to lead further into the hill and down within the earth. Vegetation, moss-nothing touched the cold slabs, a vague feeling of unease radiating from them. So far, it didn't look like much. The true nature of the place must be inside.

An arrow hit the ground some twelve or thirteen feet in front of him with a THUNK and then a slight, vibrating twinge of wood. This was yet another arrow fletched with leaves instead of feathers.

Craning his neck up, he'd see Arian perched on the second layer of tree branches, frowning at him, her bow across her crouched legs. She had beaten him there and hung around to see if he did indeed come to explore despite her warnings, it seemed.

A long bundle of rope was slung over her shoulder.
 
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The night passed slowly for him. He stirred several times not because of the solitude itself, but because of the fact that he had truly wished the share the evening with Arian. He had honestly thought the two were forging some sort of connection. He could have sworn despite their language barrier that he was getting through to here and pushing past the hard exterior shell that she put up around other people.

Now she was gone and sleep kept getting interrupted every time he heard a noise that stirred him from rest. A light sleeper out of necessity nearly every little sound broke his slumber, and he looked around to see if it was the beautiful tracker come back to make peace, or worse; neither happened.

Daybreak came and he set out once more using the map as his guide with the new additions that Arian had added to him, and with something to occupy himself and hard travel his body and mind were too focused to think too much about her. He had preserved much of the snake and left the rest for the forest to reclaim; it would not go to waste, other animals would feast upon the animal.

The journey was difficult travel but despite what Arian may think of the man who came from the city he was a hardened campaigner. He had endured many different climates, forced marches, and even a war; this terrain may be difficult and taxing, but it would not defeat him.

****************************

Two days later he found the river and he found a strange sight once he made it there. At the fording he found and arrow with leaf fletching and rope pinned to a tree trunk. This was bizarre. He stopped to refill his water skin and wash his face when he noticed how shallow the water really was here. He refilled three more water skins and then continued on with his journey.

As the terrain changed and shifted his senses tingled with a sense of foreboding. He realized something else, there were no longer any birds chirping in the area, no sounds of small prey animals moving through the underbrush. The trees looked twisted and almost corrupted. Now he was truly on alert for what was to happen next.

Not a moment later he heard a familiar sound from in front of him, the twang of a bow string. His strong legs pushed off the ground with almost inhuman reflexes. He vaulted through the air and twisted to anticipated a second and third arrow, just in case, all the while drawing his sword. An effortless scan found Arian perched above him, the arrow had been well clear of him, just a shot to get his attention, and he also noticed the rope slung over his shoulder.

She had seen him fight men half hearted before and attempt to talk his way out of a conflict, what she had never seen before was him caught off guard and how he reacted to a surprise. Even had that attack been aimed to kill it would not have hit the mark. He sheathed the blade with a slow grin. “Hello beautiful. Last time we met I thought I insulted you by accident, but you marked the easiest path to cross at the river. So does this mean you are not mad at me?”
 
Huh. Krisstos was fast.

Still, Arian did not approve of his being here. She watched him sheath his blade, tipping her head slightly as he spoke, listening.

She slipped down to the lower tier of branches, then dropped the rest of the way, landing on the balls of her feet with her knees bent, strong legs absorbing the impact-before she straightened, shaking her head.

"Not mad." She confirmed simply-only to then gesture towards the tomb with a rather, well, angry looking expression, despite what she had just said.

"Will kill!" She said firmly, those unique eyes burning brightly in her dusky skinned face. "Dead!" A final attempt to dissuade him, it seemed, from the deadly place.

Arian's equipment was different, a bit heavier this time. She was carrying a pack, for one. Her upper arms each had a leather strap wrapped around them, just above each elbow-each bearing a nasty looking set of three outward facing spikes clearly designed to tear a man apart. Her boots were taller, and had a hard piece of leather over each knee, and she had swapped her green tunic for a tight fitting leather cuirass with small metal spikes along her flat stomach, plus a near gladiator type skirt of loose leather panels. She'd tied her dark hair back away from her face to keep it out of the way, and the cuirass came up in a high collar to leave her shoulders bear and protect her throat.

A short, stolen metal sword was sheathed across her back and a small hatchet hung from one curved hip. No tonfa, no pouches, just her bow, quiver and cloak as carryovers from her previous get up.

She looked like a warrior dressed for battle, and an exotic one at that, given her race- not a woodswoman dressed for ranger-ing.

Almost as if she knew how futile her attempts to dissuade him would be. Almost as if...she was going to go in with him?
 
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He watched her leap down and close the distance between them. Her brilliant blue eyes were on fire. She claimed not to be mad, but boy was she PISSED! Just like a woman. Inwardly he was chuckling, but at the same time his features softened.

He looked at her, she was dressed completely different, armored for battle, not for exploring the wilderness. She was planning to go if he was so dead set on going. He had not chased her off, she was preparing herself. He felt truly touched and in that moment for the first time he did not want to go. When it was just his life on the line, it was worth the risk, but to risk her’s it did not seem worth it.

In a soft, gentle tone to meet her harsh anger. “That dark magic that you worry will kill me is poisoning this land you live in. Soon it will destroy everything. Look at the trees. Listen. Do you hear any birds? Any squirrels? Can you feel the evil seeping from the ground? How can I let this darkness take your home? I care for you.”

He reached out to touch her cheek. Placing his hand warmly on it for a single moment, holding her gaze then he released it and started heading toward the mouth of the tomb, still speaking. “We both grew up in the same sort of hell Arian. Alone, barely surviving, but now we are strong because of that. Let me stop the magic so I can save your home. Please don’t try to stop me.”

He reached into his pack and pulled out one of the sun rods she first saw him use in the fight as a distraction, he cracked it, and instead of exploding in a giant, brilliant ball of light, it gave a soft, warm glow about like a torch would. He started scanning the floor moving slowly forward, step by step.

His sharp eyes caught onto something and he stopped. He immediately recognized the first trap. With a slight grin he reached into a pouch and pulled out some sand and poured it through his hand along what appeared to be a long wire. He followed it to where it was anchored to the wall and then examined the stone for a moment. Shrugging out of his pack he pulled out a crow bar, and a hammer and found the purchase point that was already there. This trap was child’s play. He popped the casing off and saw the cog wheels that drove the mechanism. Picking the top wheel to pull off, he wedged the bottom and middle one so they could not move. He pulled the pin out that kept the top cog in place and then pulled the cog off. Then he pulled out the pins for both the middle and bottom cog and worked them both loose with the pry bar and popped them both out at the same time.

The whole process took about two minutes.

“Pfft. Spear trap at the front door. So boring.”
 
Arian hesitated when he spoke of poison. She wasn't so sure about that-it hadn't seemed to spread very far since she had been here last, wounded and bleeding-and that was more than a decade ago.

But her natural distrust of the place didn't make it seem farfetched. He reached out for her and now it was Arian's turn to be quick, several paces away before she even registered what she was doing.

Warily, her eyes flicked from his hand to his face. Arian was a tad too wild, maybe. God only knew when the last time she'd had a friendly face about, let alone a friendly touch.

She watched him walk into the place and growled to herself. Fine. She wasn't smart then.

Into the tomb she went, following behind as he cracked another of those damnable rods-but this time it was just a nice, pleasant light, not a blinding one.

"What is...a boring?" She mumured behind him, her eyes on the way ahead, watchful. Slipping out of her cloak and letting it drop near the entrance, she turned to give a final look into the forest behind them. Without the cloak, Arian's shoulders were exposed, revealing a nasty looking brand on her right shoulder blade-an double v looking shape, one within the other-surrounded with a broken circle. It looked as if Arian had received it young, the way it was distorted here and there, no doubt as she had grown into adulthood.

Arian had every expectation she would not live to see the forest again. But, she had survived much previously, and had little to fear in death-so she supposed there was nothing to do but move on.

A sigh and a shake of her head, she turned to follow after him again. She would let him deal with the mechanisms and traps. She knew there were worse things ahead. "Loose stones, there." She gestured to an odd looking spot in the far left wall, brown splotches in the long ago disturbed sand, a small hand print on wall.

Arian shifted the rope off her shoulder. "Strange monsters." She warned, but not as intensely as she had before. She was resigned to the adventure, it seemed. A nod towards the small hand print in rusty brown. "Mine."

Ah, so the last time Arian had been here, she had been young, and left the place bleeding. Always a good sign. The islander dragged one of the large stone blocks away, then another-revealing a hole in the wall, and what appeared to be a thirty foot drop down into a narrow hallway. She tied the rope to one and used the other to wedge it firmly into one side of the hole.

It was big enough for each of them, but many of the men he'd been traveling with would have never fit.

Arian didn't ask who was going first-she merely took up the rope, slipped out feet first-and then started the long, slow descent in the dark. She did not know anything about magic. She did not know much about traps. But she knew what sorts of things were in the tomb, at least, the upper layers-and she knew how to use a sword.

Arian figured, if nothing else, she could be good for that.
 
She pulled away from him as he tried to make contact with her. He had to admit, that hurt a little, but he understood.

As she muttered behind him he let out a quiet light and replied with his back to her. “Boring? Boring means easy fight.”

He was about to progress as Arian moved ahead of him and pointed out some loose stones. There seemed to be a hand print in the sand, a small one. It could have been made by a younger human, or a Halfling. She continued to explain that there were strange monsters again and then pointed out the small hand print to indicate it was hers. He noticed the discoloration; it was a bloody hand print.

He understood. She had come here before and barely made it out with her life. That is why she was so reticent to return. He frowned at her back. A pang of guilt struck him; the urge to go back swiftly followed but he could not abandon what he was doing. She could however, this was not her quest.

He watched as she revealed a secret passage that was walled off with the heavy stones that revealed a large drop. She tied off the rope and then began her decent before he could even stop her. With little choice he cinched his pack, tucked the sun rod into his belt and then began to follow her with remarkable skill. He paused a moment on the line and drew a dagger from a hidden place in his armor and placed it in his mouth, just in case something attacked them while they were on their decent.

He wrapped his leg around the rope several times and used it to control his downward motion, and then kept one hand free, he deposited the weapon in his hand. She said there was strange monsters here, well that was fine, he could handle strange monsters.

"You did not have to come, Arian. This is my task. I do not wish to put you in danger. You are my friend."
 
Arian was listening hard for sounds in the dark, her brilliantly colored eyes on the yawning dark to the left of them. Krisstos finished his descent and landed softly on the stone beside her and Arian's attention flickered back to him at the sound of his regretful voice.

She was about to tell him she was no stranger to risk when he went a step further.

"You are my friend."

Arian blinked, a moment of hesitation and an off heart beat. ...friend? Hadn't he seen her brand? Perhaps he had not. Perhaps he did not know what it meant. People had not been friendly to Arian, when she still interacted with them, before coming here to the forest. She had cast off human company for solitude-she could not betray or attack herself, after all. She had had enough cruelty dealt to her.

She barely spoke to the occasional lost travelers she guided back to the path. Krisstos had been kind to slow his speech, and...easy to listen to in general. She wasn't sure she trusted him exactly, but she liked him, an odd occurrence all it's own. He hadn't listened to her about the tomb, and she'd followed him into it against her better judgement merely to better the odds of his survival. It wasn't that she thought Krisstos weak or incapable. She just...hated the dark, cramped spaces here, and was anxious of leaving him to possibly die alone in them.

Yes, maybe...maybe they could be friends. She...she might like that, that might be nice. She hadn't really had one, before.

Remembering the failed handshake last night as well as the flicker of hurt when she had flinched away from him earlier, Arian extended her hand in an unsure motion, copying his movement from the night before. She would grasp his hand firmly, puzzledly following along with the handshake, if he accepted it, and then an amused smile.

"Glad for helping, friend." She said softly in her accented English.

Her attention flitted back towards the darkness on their left before she gestured to their right. Right, mustn't get too distracted. "Walls move." She warned, pressing her hands together in a crushing motion. A large door was at the end of the mentioned trap, a large ornamental lock on it. Arian kept her attention on the dark hall to their left, however-even turning her back fully on him once he moved to deal with the trap and the door, seemingly on guard for something.

She was not a very large woman, but her presence managed to be comforting all the same. She was a capable, strong warrior, and would not allow him to come to harm without a fierce fight.
 
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