The Treasure Hunters (Closed for Ambrosia_64)

[ListlessDM]

It was the find of a lifetime! That was, if it could be found. The tomb of the ancient Lord Phutonold had always lived in legend as a place of unimaginable riches, though it was just as infamous as being a death trap. Still, for all the tales not one soul could claim to have found as much as a scrape of evident to its existence.

That was, until a week ago, when a map with the tomb's location made its way into the possession of a one Kale Faust.

The name Kale Faust was synonymous with ancient, forgotten tombs and grand adventures many only read about in books. It was said he read his first book on ancient history at the age of three and lead his first expedition into hinterlands at the tender age of fourteen. It was hard to tell what was exaggeration and fact when it came to Kale Faust. For being a famous adventurer and explorer of forgotten lands and secret worlds there was little known about his actual life outside the grand tales that inspired novels and plays.

Today promised to be one of those days the bards sang about. It was the beginning of another great adventure and as such started out humbly enough. After doing some extensive fact checking through both legal and more notorious means Faust was able to confirm that the map was real; yet while it may point to the tomb of Lord Phutonold it said nothing of what would await him once he got there. News like that couldn't be hidden for long. By the time Faust started to make his own preparations he heard whispers of others, less reputable person already on the move. He had to be quick, but thankfully that had always been one of his strong points. Within hours he had gathered his gear and was gone.


It had taken him the better part of a week to get where he was now, which at the moment didn't exactly mean much Faust was far from the tapestries of 'civilization'. The closest thing to the civilization he was accustomed to was a logging colony a few weeks travel further south, but that really wasn't saying much. He was in the middle of a vast and nearly forgotten temperate forest, one which once had had a name but was lost to history long before even Lord Phutonold's reign.

Still, it was teeming with life, all manners of wildlife scurried and crawled by, he couldn't go more than a few steps and not find some sign of life. But there was much more than simple animals scurrying about, while the forest might not have a name by his textbook standards it was far from uninhabited by sentient life. Humans were the many source, a few scattered tribes of nothing more than barbarians roamed the ancient wood, though here and there smaller and lesser known creatures gathered together to survive.

It just happened to be that Kale Faust was looking for one of these hidden tribes. While very few humans save for the wild and savage barbarian tribes ventured this deep into the wood, Faust was one of the very few who were an exception to that rule. He had made more than a few friends in his travels, which had led him far away from much of the known civilized world.

Keen eyes of a iridescent amber shone briefly as the rays of the mid-day sun shone through a crack in the dense foliage above. Sharply they squinted at that brief blast of light before Faust adjusted the wide brim of his hat back over his brow with a gentle tug.

Kale Faust was an exquisite specimen of humankind. He had a solid frame toned from the harsh, physical life of an adventurer, though he was far from the hulking brutes that could wield a two handed sword as easily as a butter knife. He was more graceful in appearance than that, rare were the moments when he didn't move with some certain sense of purpose and dignity. His features were sharp and chiseled, ruggedly handsome with a usual scruff hair upon his chin and cheeks. Hair of a deep, ruddy brown was usually kept hidden underneath the beaten and torn wide-brimmed hat he was notorious for wearing on his adventures, even if it had seen better days.

He wore the typical attire of a explorer who wasn't sure just what to expect; a long sleeved shirt with leather vest (complete with numerous small pockets) and leather breeches, along with a pair of sturdy and well-worn boots. Typically he might have a cloak or jacket, even a pair of gloves but the day was already proving to be exceptionally hot and humid. Perspiration already beaded upon his exposed skin and Faust was left breathing heavily as he made his way further into the interior of the forest. Now and then he had to hack his way through some stubborn brush, the short, thick bladed sword at his side was used for more than just protection.

With a grunt Faust cleared the last bit of brush from his path and pushed on through the gap. It took a sharp eye to navigate through the forest here, while it was beautiful and breath taking at times it could be harsh and unforgiving just as easily.

After what felt like hours of hacking and slashing his way through a particular dense brush Faust found himself in a somewhat familiar area. A lopsided smile tugged at the right side of his thin lips as he pushed his hat back and wiped his brow off with his sleeve.

He was close. His 'friend' would be waiting for him nearby. It had been costly and complex to send word ahead but nothing that he couldn't pull off. He had friends with a few of the wandering tribes in the area, a shy and cautious race of serpent-like creatures that called themselves Nagaji. While they were fearsome to behold the race as a hold was content to live harmoniously with nature. In his previous travels he had earned the respect of a few of the tribes when helping them slay a beast that had been terrorizing them for weeks on end. He had earned their trust and a favor, which Faust had finally called in.

Faust was close to the rendezvous point when the scent of death hit him squarely in the face. It was a scent he was all too familiar with, unfortunately. Instinctively he unsheathed his sword once more and held it low and to the side as he found suitable cover behind one of the gnarled trees that surrounded the area. With each step he took he cringed as he felt a twig snap or a leaf crinkle under his boots, yet still he crept closer, if only to get a better look. He couldn't help the unsettling feeling in his stomach that something had gone horribly wrong...

 

[Ambrosia_64]

It wasn't the first time she'd seen such a bright color of crimson-she'd gotten in fights before with rowdy barbarians, she knew what it was to bleed and to cause others to bleed.

This though, this was more than an abandoned kill by an animal, or a fight ending in bloodshed.

This...this was a mess.

Frowning down at the violent splash of red over the green scales, the smashed orange ridge along the head-she wondered what he'd been doing out here alone, and what was more-who or what exactly had bested him. The snake men were good fighters. They didn't provoke the barbarians often, but they could defend themselves from them.

Crouching down slowly she picked up the broken handle to a knife, the splintered wood unrecognizable to her. A tree she had not seen? Foreigners? Vibrantly colored eyes shift from the handle to the dense foliage ahead, tracking the bits of spoor that marked the potential killer's path.

'Snap'

Her head snapped to her right, eyes widening. They were back! Popping to her feet she moved for cover at once, her steps silent as she sprinted into the brush, seeming to shift around branches and brambles before her right hand caught a low hanging branch, swinging herself atop it to perch uncertainly, full lips parted to breath silently through her mouth.

She was hidden, but she didn't intend to stay as such for long-slipping a carved wooden bow from her back, she strung the weapon, creeping along the branch stealthily. She was smaller, wearing a green tunic and cloak of a rough material, her cloth boots simple but effective at masking her already careful, silent steps. She listened to the cautious sounding steps of the killer as leaves crinkled and twigs snapped-and caught sight of a man in strange garb wielding a suspiciously clean sword.

Perhaps he had cleaned it in the nearby stream, and was now returning to follow after his fellows? Arian didn't know.

She wasn't sure she cared-he was no barbarian, and he certainly wasn't one of the snake people. Given what she knew of interlopers, they were trouble-apparantly murderous trouble. Still...

She notched an arrow before aiming high into the tree line-and releasing. It rustled branches and leaves before slicing down into the ground with a reverberating 'twang'.

Arian was already gone however-nothing more than the wisp of her dark hair and green cloak should he even trace the trajectory. The arrow was meant as distraction, it seemed...

 

[ListlessDM]

It wasn’t what he was expecting, not that he really had any idea what to expect. The scene before him was grisly, the only way he could even tell the corpse was a Nagaji was by the few scales that weren’t covered in blood and gore. The sight of the mutilated corpse sent a cold chill or dread up his spine and suddenly the thick, humid air didn’t faze him at all.

Faust kept his pace slow and cautious as he approached the scene closer, his hand tightened upon the hilt of his sword as he drew to a crouch before the corpse. As much as he hated to admit it, telling one of the snake people from the other was difficult even on a good day. From the remains of the body he could barely tell what color most of its scales were let alone if it was his old friend or not. Slowly his amber gaze drifted over the corpse as he tried to discern just what had taken place. Some clues shone brightly even with a causal glance, thick brows furrowed as a rush of questions flooded his mind.

Yet just as quickly as he began to piece the information of the scene together something else caught his attention. Something sliced through the stillness and hit the ground nearby with a undeniable twang of an arrow. He reacted quickly; his sword flashed out in front of his and caught the light of the sun. Faust caught moved in the brush, something brown and green, quick and gone before he had a chance to focus on it. The cold dread of the situation slowly started to roil into anger within his stomach. No doubt this was the very same agent that had so brutally murdered the Nagaji. They must have found out about the meeting and set up an ambush. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he scanned the surrounding foliage only to find nothing.

“Damn you! Come out and finish the job you filthy cowards!” Faust found his voice, deep and resounding as he bellowed out a challenge and clambered to his feet. While he was prepared for many situations, out and out combat was not one of them. He couldn’t take long a well entrenched foe with cover and range on him, but at least he might be able to take out a few as he went.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

She slipped out of the foliage behind him, dropped low to the ground and creeping closer on those silent cloth boots. Her movements were silent and economical, and as she rose to stand-carried a sort of power to them, the understated grace of a sprinter rather than a dancer.

She was short, no more than five foot two, and carried two wooden, heavy looking tonfas she had carved herself. The odd choice in weaponry as well as her dusky, red undertoned skin and vibrant eyes spoke of her islander ethnicity-but she was a long way from home if this was so.

With a burst of speed powered by those toned thighs she started for him, making her presence known just as he rose to his feet by twirling the wooden weapons in either hand. Her bow and quiver bounced slightly against her back, air rippling the cloth of her dark green cloak-as she charged him fearlessly.

Should he remain in place she would leap and bring the right tonfa down against his sword (in an attempt, of course, to crack it against his skull). If blocked as such, the left would thrust forward to bash the man in his solar plexus, the space right within the upside v of his rib cage.

The mystery woman was exotic looking, young-and seemingly enraged with him.

Oh dear.

 

[ListlessDM]

Faust heard the movement behind him, a slight shuffle, a wisp of wind that caught his heightened senses as the adrenaline began to surge through him. With a snarl he turned and met the weapon with the edge of his blade, batting it aside with all his strength.

Yet the adventurer faltered when he came face to face with just what attacked him. He expected nothing more than a scarred barbarian screaming curses in a foreign tongue, but he found an islander girl lashing out at him. There was no denying her intentions, she meant to knock his head cleanly off his shoulders. Try as he might he was simply unprepared for the moment and took the woman's second hit squarely where she intended to land it. Faust stumbled and fell to one knee with a gasp of air as it escaped his lungs.

It wasn't his first encounter with a deadly foe and while he seemed easily prey, stunned and ready for another blow, Kale Faust was far from out of the fight. Still, she had him at a disadvantage, the adventurer needed to fix that. His blade flashed in the sunlight once more before the tip dug into the ground at his side and with a flourish he whipped his sword out in front of him in a wide arc. With the movement he flung a cloud of dust in debris into the air, hopefully into the strange woman's face.

“Wait!” He called out in the common tongue before he even realized she might not speak it. His brain raced to recall the languages of the common barbarian tribes that thrived here, or even a phrase or two from her native land. Unless he wanted to buy a goat or marry her daughter though, Faust couldn't think of anything to say. Still, he would not allow himself to be overwhelmed by this strange woman, beautiful or not she wasn't going to brain him to death with those spinning wooden sticks of hers. It was then that something clicked in his mind, even as he offered another wave of his sword to keep her at bay. “I said wait you crazy islander!”

 

[Ambrosia_64]

He hesitated-and she punished him for it, driving the tonfa into him so that he went down to one knee. Arian's previously blocked tonfa twirled as she pulled the arm back, ready to strike her foe and send him into the dirt-when that dirt flew up, causing the native to throw up her other arm, the tonfa's handle held tightly in her fist as she backed off with a feminine sound of dismay.

"Wait!" She understands this word. She knows many words in common-words gleaned from men who cut lumber, miners to the north, a few missionaries to the tribes she has spied on. Her eyes snap up over the edge of her arm, full of fury and anger. She shifted her stance, moving in a semi circle to his left-seemingly looking to attack again, dodge his sword. Her hood had fallen back to reveal the long, messy dark hair, the full shape of her face.

She noticed he didn't have any blood on him. That was odd.

"I said wait you crazy islander!"

She looked seemingly surprised as he established her origin-and then her eyes narrowed, a new, more dangerous glint to the vibrant shade of blue. "Not crazy." The t and the hard c were softened but discernible. Not only was he a potential murder suspect, he was -racist-.

Arian's blood boiled. Well, of COURSE he was. "You think..." It was Arian's turn to struggle with language, her eyes flicking to the bloody mess, then back. "You think -him- crazy? You kill?" She made a false start forward, but seemed a bit wary of his sword.

He seemed better practiced with it than the rage filled barbarians. They were sloppy. They had axes. She could easily best one of them, alone. And so she continued in her long unused voice. "Not like snakes?" Arian had no real problem with the snake people. She spied on them sometimes, and she was sure they knew she did-but they never bothered her. "Not like islanders?"

 

[ListlessDM]

It was still sinking in, the fact that he was now confronted by such a ravishing beauty in such a position as this. Any other time he might have gotten lost in those beautiful eyes and dark skin, no doubt on some level he felt an undeniable stirring of arousal at the sight; but now, well, he was simply trying to keep his head squarely centered upon his neck and shoulders.

There was no curiosity in those eyes, only a seething rage directly entirely at him. He had seen that look before, it was usually prelude to a thundering battle cry and an axe directed at his head. It wasn't completely off the truth now, but at least there was only one of her. His mind raced as he tried to find a logical solution to the issue, while she was beauty and angry, she didn't look the type to murder so nonchalantly. And besides, those wooden sticks couldn't have possibly hacked the poor Nagaji to bits, though he hadn't the time to full examine the body he had a feeling she simply didn't have the physical strength to preform such a ghastly deed.

To his surprise, his common tongue was met with common, though the accent was something he couldn't quite comprehend. It took a few more words from her for the adventurer to catch on. She had the complexion of an islander, few could claim such, but it was that curious accent that confirmed his initial suspicions.

Amber orbs drifted back towards the corpse for just a moment before they returned to the circling woman, who no doubt was positioning herself for another strike. Faust reacted quickly, with his free hand he held it up at his side and simply tossed the sword into the dust and leaves at his side.

“No,” He said sharply, even as his mind raced to recall the few snippets of words that she might more easily understand.

“Not crazy. I didn't kill him,” Faust held up his hands briefly before he nodded towards the corpse. He took a step to the side, if only to keep her from closing in, though he left his sword where it laid.

“The Nagaji are friends. My friend,” He gestured to the corpse once more before he furrowed his brow and tried his best to recall the proper accent.

<“Friend!”> He called out in the native tongue, Courtelli, though his dialect may have been a bit off and strange sounding, at least coming from the tall, ruggedly handsome adventurer.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Well. This was unexpected.

The circling native went still, blinking-uncertainty battling with her anger. Eyes on the discarded weapon, her full lips formed a frown as he spoke, eyes slowly traveling back to him, distrusting, puzzled-and now a bit curious what he might be up about.

So...he was not with the murderers, nor was he the murderer. She could believe the latter for sure, he didn't have any blood on hi-!

Arian's vibrantly colored eyes widened to hear the Courtelli word, lighting upon him at once. He knew her language! Her initial excitement made her look that much more young and approachable-something she quickly tried to hide, slightly embarrassed even.

Cautiously the woman straightened, sheathing one tonfa in the belt that hung off one curved, green garbed hip. She tried to sweep that sudden display of excitement under the rug, and fast. <"Not us. We're not friends."> She mumbled dismissively to -him-, the words tumbling from her lips and somehow putting her at ease. Did he know her language? Just a few words?

It'd been so long since she's heard -any-, it was nothing short of amazing. Still, she wasn't intent on making friends, just yet. She didn't like people. Specially not strange outside people. Then again, she was an outsider, in a way...bah.

Coming closer, frowning at the mess-she returned her attention to the path ahead, the bits of a trail she was confident she could track. "...I know words." She says, gesturing to him with her empty hand. "Can...listen." Speaking, that was the harder part. "Slow words." She mumbled.

She shifted uncomfortably, as if she'd rather be duking things out than talking about them. She didn't turn her back on him as she moved nearer to the edge of the clearing-eyes shifting to a broken branch. Arian was an excellent tracker, and seemed more interested in hunting down the perpetrators than conversation.

"...sorry for friend." Ah, but at least she wasn't lacking -all- social graces, however awkward she was at them.

 

[ListlessDM]

Only a fool wouldn't recognize the light shimmering within those brilliant pools, nor the look that over took that beautiful face if only for a moment. Kale was no fool, he also knew better than to bring it up or make note of such, after all, she was still a very dangerous woman. She seemed the on edge type normally, perhaps she was just looking for a reason to bludgeon him to death. So far he gave her little cause, even going so far as to disarm himself. It had been a smart move, though some might call it reckless and stupid; it had been done in the heat of the moment and thus far it had worked out for him. Kale did enjoy living on the edge, in some twisted little way he enjoyed this confrontation, though the none too subtle buzzing of the gathering flies easily put a damper on that.

While she put away one of her wooden beatsticks, Kale noted she held tightly to the other; he hadn't completely won over the exotic beauty, at least yet. Her words were spoken like one who hadn't used her tongue in sometime, of course it wasn't hard to imagine that there weren't too many intellectual conversations going on this deep in the forest. Or even a conversation about the weather. It took all his concentration to still decipher the words, she made it painfully obvious with not just her words but that look that they were far from friends. It had been the only word that came to mind that he could recall, still, the time for bringing up semantics wasn't at hand. Instead Faust simply raised his hands once more and offered a stout nod of agreement.

< “Friends. No. Not yet,” > Faust managed to get out, though he might have spoiled the finer aspects of the fluting sounding language. Still, it was passable, he just needed some practice. For the most part the woman seemed more intent upon her surroundings now that she decided he was not a true threat, or at least not real perpetrator of this gruesome scene.

“Oh. Well, right then. I will go slow,” He began again in the common tongue, perhaps a little too happy to use it, since he was no doubt butchering the other.

“I'm sorry too,” He said at length with a undeniable sigh. He moved with a slow grace, if only to keep her at ease. He retrieved his blade and brushed it off before sheathing it once more at his side. Only then did he return his attention back to his former friend. Slowly he squatted before the corpse as the woman started to examine their surroundings, while Faust was a competent tracker, his eye for detail was best used elsewhere.

“This is just butchery,” His gaze traveled over the corpse once more, before one hand slid out to examine the wounds closer. “Not barbarians.” He said at length, raising his eyes back towards the woman before he tilted his hat back and gave her a once over while she was examining the branch.

“What have you found there?” He asked curiously, while she might be more than a little confrontational and reserved, Faust was accustomed to new people and experiences. She was not an enemy, at least not yet, thus she had the potential for an ally.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

"Mess." Arian agreed distractedly, taking a step down the path. Ahead, a patch of clover was matted down in the shape of someone's boot-much larger than her own. Whoever they were, they were probably noisy, feet like that.

In looking her over, Faust would see the carved bow and the leather detailing of her quiver-the crude, simple arrows fletched with feathers and sometimes, oddly-leaves. She didn't have a sword, or any sort of metal-the tonfa themselves carved out by hand. The belt had a water skin and a few pouches, one of which had a flute sticking out of it.

She was toned and fit, a petite powerhouse who, had he pressed it, no doubt would have provided something of a challenge. The edges of her cloak were rather torn and scraggly looking-and a three lined scar on her right upper arm looked to be from some sort of mean predator in these parts.

"Trail." She answered simply, her gaze shifting back to ponder his sword, then him. "Outsiders." She hazards the guess since, indeed-the bloody fare did not look to be the work of any barbarians. They...they tended to eat victims, when they did kill. "...like you." It got easier, faster as she worked at the swirling entity that was language. She hesitated, seemingly unsure if she wanted to stick around much longer. "Snake friend waited on you? For you? Why?"

A nod down the path, another step. The most invitation he would get, it seemed. There was nothing to do here, she didn't believe-no sea to send the snake man out on, no ceremony, no home. That saddened her a little. She felt bad for him. She would kill his killers. Particularly if they had bested him unfairly.

The tall stranger, the outsider who knew some of her language was a different puzzle. What was he doing out here? What did he want, and what did he know of her people? She rubbed her right shoulder beneath her cloak absently. Hopefully not too much.

 

[ListlessDM]

With a reluctant sigh Faust pushed up from before the corpse and said a silent blessing. The Nagaji themselves had elaborate ceremonies for their dead, to disturb the corpse would bring about the anger of the tribe. That was something Faust couldn't afford, not at this moment. The kill was recent enough that a trail might still be found, which is what seemed to draw the woman's attention or so he hoped. The indication of outsiders also peaked his interest, while it had been upon his mind as he examined the length and depths of the cuts it wasn't until he saw for himself the undeniable shape of a boot print that he confirmed such suspicions.

The woman was right, no barbarian tread would make such note worthy indention, Faust could almost make out some kind of groove or tread. His gaze lingered over the mark for a moment or two before he offered his own nod.

“Outsiders, yes. But like me? No. I don't kill people unless they try to kill me first,” Faust said sternly, perhaps a bit too much; still, he didn't like being lumped with such senseless murders. He adjusted his pack with a sigh and snatched the hat off his head before he offered another swipe to his glistening brow.

“Well I suppose some introductions are in order. My name is Kale Faust, I'm an explorer. From the City of Towers-” He faltered a bit, half remembering that she no doubt couldn't keep up with such a lengthy introduction, nor did she have any idea from whence he came.

“Er...yes. This poor soul was indeed waiting for me. I befriended his tribe some while back. He was to show me the way to...well...some place hidden from the eyes of mortal man for a millennium.”

The very thought made Kale tingle with excitement, despite the recent findings he was still very determined to find the tomb, though he feared that perhaps who ever murdered the poor snake man was more than a few steps ahead of him.

“I have a sneaking suspicion that this murder is connected to what I am looking for,” Faust approached the trail and the beautiful, exotic stranger that up until a few moments ago had wanted to bash his brains in. He couldn't deny her beauty, especially this close up. There was just something about those eyes he found alluring, perhaps he peered into them a bit too intently as he approached.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

"Outsiders, yes. But like me? No. I don't kill people unless they try to kill me first."

Arian tilted her head slightly as if appraising him. Outsiders were outsiders, but perhaps his seriousness was akin to her anger at racist notions. Then he spoke again, but faster-and as her lips formed a partial, puzzled frown he hesitated-and Arian shifted slightly in discomfort, curious about a city of...towers? but unwilling to ask.

"Kale Faust." She repeats her understanding of at least that much, though the talk of some hidden place and connected murders puzzled her just as much. He stared at her, and Arian met his gaze for a moment or two before her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"...Arian." She said shortly before adjusting her tunic decisively, turning to follow the path. "I know hidden things. Not hidden things to make mess for, but things." She didn't explain what an islander might be doing here, or her own occupation-but given her state of dress, she apparently lived here as a woodswoman. "I, hide."

 

[ListlessDM]

Well things were getting off to a better start, or at least Faust thought. He couldn't help the smile that came to his lips as she begrudgingly offered her name. He had a certain sense of charm about him, even in the hot, humid forest he could still flash that smile and give someone that knowing look. Of course at the moment just a smile would do, he still had vivid images of her savage attack earlier. He had been on the wrong side of that wrath shortly before and didn't want to be there again.

“Well met, Arian. You can just call me Kale. I've never seen you before here...though I haven't been this way in a number of years. Still...you don't seem to be from any tribe of know of. You speak with an islander tongue and have their beauty,” Kale went on far longer than he should, easily forgetting the language barrier. Still, it wasn't every day one met a beautiful woman such as Arian, especially in the middle of the Gods forsaken forest. And the next few words she got out were all the more intriguing.

Faust couldn't help but let his curiosity get the better of him, it was clearly etched upon that handsome visage as he took a step after the woman and leaned in closer.

“Hidden things you say? I wager a small fortune you are a decent tracker. Can you follow these tracks to where they lead?” He gestured towards the trail before them that subtly began to lose itself within the dense foliage of the forest, at least to Faust. While he was a decent tracker, he was by no means the best. If he could get this woman's help...who knew where it would lead?

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Kale talked alot. That would have annoyed the solitude seeking Arian most of the time-but he seemed nice, somehow, and she decided that if he wanted to talk at her-he could. Not that she was catching more than a word or two, and the poor man might get the feeling she was letting his words wash over her, ignoring them.

Her eyes roamed ahead, spotting small things, unnoticeable things that stuck out to her, called to her curiosity. What outsiders were these, exactly? Kale spoke on, his interest sparked in something she had said. Her eyes flicked back, a frown on her lips again.

She was no guide. She didn't know this Kale, and while the Snake man might've been his friend-she didn't want to be slowed down any. Could he climb trees? Would his boots leave a bigger trail? Conflicted a moment, Arian slowly sheathed the second tonfa, absently rubbing the back of her hand. "And kill killers?" He did have a sword, and seemed to know how to use it. If there were many outsiders, the help might prove damning against them. And she could track, an even trade-should she wish it.

Arian, despite her better judgement-allowed a bit of curiosity of her own to show through. "Talk towers?" What was this place of towers he had mentioned? He was from there? He knew she was an islander, but Arian wasn't sure she wanted to talk about that too much-she didn't know if he was trustworthy, and in her experience-no one was.

There was a reason Arian wasn't settled down in one of the barbarian tribe, and it wasn't just her skin tone-no doubt they would have claimed a beauty eagerly, but yet she had remained aloof and solo. Interesting.

 

[ListlessDM]

If Faust picked up on her lack of comprehension to his words, he didn't let on. It didn't matter that much anyway, as long as the bigger picture was made clear Faust was content to be thought of as a babbler. He did have a habit of going on and on though, but he did enjoy a good conversation. There was little doubt he would find such here though, not that it was one of his primary concerns at the moment. No, he still was very keen on finding just where these tracks led. It was two-folded of course, despite the murder of a comrade, Faust was out in this Gods forsaken forest for a reason. Vengeance, it seemed, was going to be a bonus.

“Killers. Yes. If we find them we will make them pay. Bring their heads to the Chieftain of the snake people,” Faust tried to put it as directly as he could. While they could do nothing for the poor creature that lay hacked to bits, they could offer the bitter sweet prize of vengeance to the Nagaji. No doubt they would find a nice place on the end of a spear for the murderer's heads; that was of course if they could find them.

That last little bit he left to himself of course, there was no need to doubt his newest companion so readily. She had earned at least a little respect in his eyes already. She was tough and no nonsense, the latter not really a trait he enjoyed but he could respect it. He would trust her until she proved to him otherwise, perhaps it was a bit naive but Faust was just that kind of man.

“Yes. The City of Towers. Have you heard of it?” Faust continued as he kept his pace slow and steady, usually a step or two behind her. His sword hand came to rest easily upon the hilt of his sword, which jostled lightly with each step he took. From the look on that beautiful face he could tell she had no idea what it was, though she had let a hint of curiosity escape past that stoic mask. It was enough for Faust. With a deep breath he let out a laugh and continued, “Imagine if you can, a city on the edge of a mighty river, snaking off in three separate directions like dagger and its hilt. There she sits, the City of Towers, the jewel in the crown of civilized men and women. Towers taller than mountains, reaching into the clouds. But even those massive towers are nothing compared to the ward of Skywall, which sits upon a disk of pure magic force, floating above the city itself.”

He spoke longingly of the city, with a zest that couldn't be denied. For a moment Faust could find himself back there, the breeze wafting over him, the sights of hundreds of different peoples and races all mixing together, the scents of a thousand different foods cooking. He savored the little feeling of nostalgia before the humidity roused him back to reality. He mopped his brow with his hand once more, only to remove his hat and offer a subtle wave to stir a breeze for a brief moment. His gaze focused once more upon that small, petite frame of Arian. Adventures always had a weird way of playing out. He couldn't help but muse on that as the silence of the forest loomed about them.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Arian watched him a moment, then nodded in agreement, speaking in her accented common as she turned her attention to the faint trail she was tracking- "You bring heads. I help, then hide." The Nagaji were not aware of her presence, and Arian aimed to keep it that way. She kept her eyes not on the ground before her, but several steps ahead to track the direction of their adversaries, following the evidence of their passing.

Every so often her gaze flicked over her shoulder as he spoke, brows lifting at the imagery. "...Skywall... flies?" She paused to think that over a moment, marveling over such a...a good use of magic. In Courtelli, the only magic was bad magic, the whole lot of her kinsmen superstitious and fearful.

She wasn't even sure that brand of magic WAS actual magic, or just propaganda used to control the simple natives.

And then, unpleasantly, she thought of her father.

She ran a hand through her dark hair and began to move again, going some ways before pointing out the more frequent signs of passage. "Hm." She held up four fingers, quickening her pace. "Not good, not...fair? Four attack one." Her expression darkened. "Faster, messy now." She scowled as she saw the cut branches and fauna. You had to move around the forest, not through it!

"What hidden thing?" Arian understood more than one might have thought. "Four here for hidden things? -Your- hidden thing?"

 

[ListlessDM]

The last bit about hiding went over Faust’s head, if he had thought more on it or had the time to he would have understood her intention regarding such. As it was, it was simply just a curious phrase that was all but forgotten as the conversation proceeded and they ventured deeper into the forest.

“Oh yes. Flies. Hovers really. Just sits there in the air,” Faust held up a hand flat before him as if to indicate the object of which he spoke. Exactly how it worked, well, he wasn’t entirely sure, he was no magewright. Magic was a curious and useful thing, but he hadn’t the ability nor the training to cast any type of spell himself. It was nothing more than a tool to him, much like the map rolled up in his pack and the sword at his side.

The talk of flying cities came to an abrupt end though, as Arian moved on and found more signs of their targets. Faust’s brows furrowed as he heard her call out the normal, indeed it was not a good sign, nor was it fair. He let out a slight, anger huff before he shook his head slowly.

“The poor Nagaji didn’t stand a chance. Still, if there’s four we need to stay on our toes,” He reached down and gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, as if it could bring some reassurance. He saw the signs himself now, the hacked branches and hewn brush was more than obvious. If the four had taken steps to cover their tracks previously, now they had all but given up on it. Faust was both relieved and put off by it all…they were just getting cocky now.

“Hidden?” He said almost absently as he looked up from a snapped branch. It dawned on him slowly as she finished just what she meant. Slowly that wide smile drifted out over his lips before he let out another little huff of laughter and burst into a jog to catch up.

“Hidden, yes. No doubt they are looking for the same thing. It is not my hidden thing…but I’d hazard a guess that’s where they are headed. It’s an ancient tomb of a forgotten Lord. It’s rumored to be full of deadly traps and monsters, as well as fortune beyond imagination. I had a map of the location but I wanted a guide. Which is here our poor snake man came in…” Faust trailed off at that. It still stung a bit to say it aloud. It was an unfortunate incident that he couldn’t deny he had a hand in. If it weren’t for him the Nagaji would still live.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Arian stopped. Not the mid movement sort of stopping, ready to continue-but a full stop, hands dropping to her sides, head snapping up as she realized just what he might be talking about. Her eyes trailed the tracks before she turned, frowning at Faust.

"...the grave is bad Faust. Very bad." She spoke solemnly, her accent making the words much more ominous, somehow. Arian hesitated, those vibrant blue eyes lifting towards the patches of sky barely visible through the trees, discerning their direction and considering her own mental map of the forest she has so long called home. Maybe she should chase him out. But his friend had been murdered, and Arian believed it his right to exact revenge and justice. She would help, if only because the four were bad men, must be to kill a Snake man out of spite.

But taking him to the unsettling, dark place...what if something bad happened? They must stop the men, but if they were truly venturing there, surely they would die anyway. Arian wasn't sure, worrying her bottom lip a little, a small sign of conflict on her otherwise passive mask.

 

[ListlessDM]

“So I've heard,” Faust retorted easily, her grave words not phasing his resolve one bit. He would have told her all he knew about the tomb, which in truth wasn't much more than simple tales of death and riches. Most of the truth and substance of those little fables had been washed away by the sands of time, though Faust knew that this expedition was going to be far from a picnic.

Still, he did not simply disregard Arian's words nor the tone used. He flashed a charming smile all the same, an undeniable twinkle in his eye as he leaned in slightly closer.

“But you don't have to worry about me nor yourself. I wouldn't put you in harm's way, just point the way and I'll head off. There's no need for you to risk your neck over the likes of me,” He said easily, giving the wild islander a chance to back out if she so desired. It wasn't her fight or her place to right the wrong committed by some vile foreigner, let alone explore a deadly tomb no doubt filled to the brim with traps of both mundane and magical quality. He couldn't help but find that little nibble of her bottom lip more than a little endearing. If she had been any other woman he might have pursued a further interest in her. As it were, wooing in the middle of the wilderness was never a good idea. There was a time and a place to mix business and pleasure, Faust was smart enough to know the time wasn't now.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

"I do not fear." Arian stated firmly and simply, her moment of hesitation vanishing like a mirage. There was a slight, defiant lift of her chin and a tightening of her jaw that spoke of stubbornness as she adjusted her cloak, studying him in the ensuing silence.

Perhaps he could easily take care of himself. Perhaps avenging his friend against four attackers would be a walk in the park, and the tomb itself just as easy.

Or maybe she'd show him the way just to stumble across his corpse later, put down before he could ever chance the tomb.

The Tomb. Arian did not fear the four men, but she definitely did not want to go there. Covered in moss, the stones still above the ground looked more like a heap than anything important-the stone door would take strength to move, much more than Arian herself possessed. No-she knew another way, or at least something she believed to be connected, but the dark space made her uneasy for more than one reason.

She did not wish to think about the catacombs beneath the sands of Courtelli. She did not need to be reminded. She would take care of the four and move on. Faust could do what he wanted-her interest was in justice, fairness-not dank holes in the dirt. Society, past and present, held no promises for her.

She turned off the clear trail.

"Faster." She explained, pulling the hood of her cloak up. "Two attack four." English was hard. She tried Courtelli, figuring, in the very least-it'd be nice to speak her own tongue again.

"I know how to fight, have had a lot of practice against barbarians. And if we arrive first, we may ambush them. These cowards will be sorry. I want to help you Faust. It is better than wondering of it all later."

The melodious words were accompanied by her usual serious expression, a passive mask of stoicism.

(We can skip ahead if you'd like, to arrive there after however many miles.)

 

[ListlessDM]

There came that hard shell all over again. Faust watched the sternness return to that beautiful visage. Whatever contemplation or second thought she might have been having was simply momentary. While he might have given her the chance to leave him to his own devices, Faust was in no position to turn down help that he desperately needed.

“Well then. Comrades we are. If only for a few moments,” He said easily, that smile lingering upon his lips as he tipped his hat slightly. But the wild islander was already on the move, it took Faust a few moments to catch back up to her as she veered off from the obvious trail and into the forest wilds. He did not question her logic, though as she explained it, Faust understood her intentions. Curiously, she returned to her native tongue, one that danced off her lips more than was spoken. It took a moment for Faust to fight back the grin that wanted to drift out across his lips, easily he hid it behind a hand as it wiped his cheeks and brow with the back of his hand before he spoke.

< “I know your fighting prowess all too well, Arian. You are a fierce and determined woman. I am glad to have you on my side,” > He tried his best, though his accent threw the fluting words off a little, still, the more he spoke that curious tongue of Courtelli, the easier it was to remember it. He met that stoic mask with that charming smile. Even if the situation was serious and about to get even more so, he couldn’t help but enjoy himself, if only slightly as he caught her gaze.

Faust knew better than to try to engage Arian in a conversation, especially now as they drifted through the forest. He felt lucky to have her now; as they had left the trail behind them hours ago he was thoroughly lost. All the trees looked the same and he swore they had passed the same rock configuration at least twice. Yet he trusted the woman, if she was to lead him into a trap, well, he would deal with such when it came to pass. Thankfully though it didn’t; instead they found themselves drawing closer to a series of hills, the ground growing steeper and more treacherous as they went. The forest started to thin and the terrain became more rocky.

< “Arian.” > Faust called out lightly as he gripped a branch and hoisted himself up over a small, waist high wall of stone. They had to be near; there was a certain feeling in the air that was hard to pin down. It was palpable though, it sent the hairs on the back of his neck on edge and his heart to beat just a bit quicker in his chest.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

With that, he finally managed to flatter the islander-a glimmer of pride in those vibrantly colored eyes.

It seemed she held her capabilities as a warrior in very high regard.

Arian didn't leave a trail-she stepped on roots and stones instinctively, slipped around foliage and low hanging branches without disturbing a single leaf. She was quick, and were she alone-no doubt impossible to catch. There was an understated power, an ease to her movements, each silent footfall as confident and as well placed as the last.

It'd be a brisk pace, slowing up only as they reached the hills, as the trees thinned out enough to be seen through-as Arian's toned body tensed with trepidation. She placed her hands on the waist high wall and bounced lightly off her feet and onto it in a crouch, a small furrow to her brow as she surveyed the clearing, her eyes moving to him at the sound of her name.

She had shown him the way.

Silently, Arian slipped from the wall to the ground in a fluid movement, her head tilted just so-catching scraps of a heated argument in the distance, or so she thinks. They spoke too quickly for her to understand anything, and were too far away besides-but she pulled the carved bow from her back, restringing it as her lips formed that slight frown once more.

Like Faust, she too felt the strong sense of foreboding, the unease. She seemed on edge, even angry.

"They die for snake man." She said quietly in common, no room for mercy or argument. Her eyes settled on the structure blocking their view of the apparent quartet, the crumbling stone structure seemingly held together by moss. "In this forsaken place, this monument to arrogance." Whoa.

Where had that statement, spoken so darkly in that beautiful language, come from? What on earth had she meant by it, also?