Mere Beginnings

Out of Character:

Closed to Christoph. Bunnies approved.

Snow crunched under Karuka's boots as she walked along the edge of the forest. There had been a road here a few months ago, when she'd last been in this area. The last time, though, she'd been escorting a child. When she'd taken little Meg to Knife's Edge to find her aunt, she'd succeeded, but the woman hadn't been willing to take in her dead sister's orphan. It was too dangerous, she'd said, and there wasn't enough food.

Karuka didn't have the assurance of safety for the child on her travels, but still wasn't willing to leave her alone and friendless with winter settling in and her barely able to walk yet. She also couldn't leave her in an orphanage. Too many people in Salvar were too superstitious, too afraid of the church, and besides, care of orphans was a low priority when ordinary citizens couldn't find anything to eat.

So she'd found a woman in a small town that was willing to look after the child - for a price. Karuka had been more than willing to pay it. She'd sponsor the child either until she was old enough to travel, someone adopted her, or tragedy pushed this far south. She hoped that the child would be spared in the darkness of the days to come - little Meg had been such a lonely, charming little thing, and Karuka couldn't help but feel for her, since her mother was dead.

Pausing, she adjusted her boots, stretching her toes to make sure there was still feeling in them. Her fingers were only kept from freezing by the pair of gloves she'd bought in the port town, a nice warm pair that still didn't hamper her movement too much. She was also glad of the sturdy fleece-lined oilskin that kept the cold out and her own warmth in. She'd almost frozen in Salvar two years before, and didn't wish to repeat the experience.

She resumed her course, contemplating the swirls of her breath in the air and reminding herself that it was too cold to press on too fast. To sweat here was to die, after all, and then she wouldn't be able to make it back and pay for the next three months of Meg's stay. That would be a real shame, since Karuka had worked hard for the money, at risk of death sometimes.

It will be nice to get into town...

As she thought that, an ear-splitting roar shattered the frosty air, and the red-head whipped around, hearing heavy footsteps pounding toward her. It was a massive reptilian thing, charging from the sinister shadows of the dead woods toward the only living thing in sight. She wanted to stop it without violence, but its head was swinging about s so that she couldn't get an eye lock with it.

Gripping her staff, Karuka dug deeper into the snow, ready to move, ready to fight back. As it came within striking distance, she lashed out, hitting it solidly on the nose with the prevalida end of her weapon. A satisfying electric spark ran through the lizard's nose as she jumped back, tumbling once and then coming back up, casting snow from her cloak in a great flurry.

She saw it come around for another charge, but this time she charged back, hitting it again, harder. She expected a growl or a roar, but instead it backed up, rubbing its burned nose into the snow and looking warily at her.

"Malchadan...now, who do you think you are, running at people like that and then thinking they won't hit you for it?"

If the lizard wanted to, it could probably still take her out, but it was a predator, and Karuka knew from experience that predators didn't like prey that could injure them. It was strange, though, to find so large a reptile still active, as cold as it was out. She'd never seen a reptile in the winter; they all holed up.

"What are you doing out this time of year, anyway?"

“Oh, I’m sure he’s fine,” Chris assured himself as he jogged down the frigid road. He was hoping to catch up with Cirothe, the massive war lizard complete with typical giant teeth, armored scales, and a frothing jaw. Food had been short lately, and frustrated by his mount’s incessant whining, the chef had told him to go hunt. However, instead of running off into the thick pine forests to search for an unlucky deer, the beast sprinted right down the snowy path. The Ashkore lizard had served as a faithful, if not rather dull, companion for the month since he’d purchased it. Its tendency to eat people was something of an inconvenience. “The road is abandoned. How much trouble could he get into in five minu- ” A familiar roar pierced the frozen air. “I had to ask, didn’t I?”

Expecting to see his “pet” sitting atop a pile of mangled baby sheep, old ladies, and small orphans, Chris went from a jog to a sprint, almost slipping in the slushy snow more than once. The scene was significantly different from that, however. It consisted of one slender, tan woman with a staff scowling at the massive Ashkore lizard currently rubbing its nose in the snow.

“There are you are!” he shouted, running up to the lizard and glaring at it. He turned is eyes to the woman. “What happened?”

“This beast decided he had a taste for human flesh. I decided it wouldn't be mine,” she replied icily, still glaring daggers at the creature, fierce blue eyes daring it to make one false move on pain of another shock.

The chef closed his eyes and groaned. “Stupid lizard. Again?” he grumbled at his mount. He laughed softly in spite of himself.

"You laugh, but what if it had been a child walking the road, instead of a grown woman with a weapon?" Now she turned her eyes to look at the chef, trusting her clairvoyance to warn her if the lizard tried lunging at her again.

He shrugged and chuckled. “Then at least I wouldn’t have to worry about feeding him,” he answered. The redhead narrowed her eyes at him, anything but amused. The chef shifted uncomfortably. “All right, all right. Not funny. I usually keep him with me at all times to avoid this kind of thing, but food has been so scarce lately that I have to let him hunt from time to time.”

"Keep him from the roads. There's a town a few miles north of here, and they still let their children play out of doors, a young ward of mine included. Surely there are better places for your beast to hunt."

“I tried pointing him to the woods, but he apparently had his own ideas,” Chris explained, shooting a scowl at his mount. He sighed and looked the exotic woman up and down. She seemed unharmed, though almost as ragged and travel-weary as he was. “Are you hurt?”

“No, but he thinks he is. I'll wager it's still not fun for something that size to get a shock strong enough to knock out a grown man for a few minutes.” An almost undetectable grin formed on her lips. “Twice.”

“Oh dear,” replied the cook, stepping over to Cirothe. “Did the mean lady hurt you?” The lizard gave a whiny grunt that could have only been an affirmation. “I bet she did, you big puppy.” Chris laughed. The redhead merely rolled her eyes at this, setting the end of her staff on the ground and turning to leave.

“Eesh. You’re a tough nut to crack,” he called after her, traces of laughter lingering in his voice. “Cirothe, go hunt. Animals. In the forest. Understand?” The creature grunted and loped off toward the trees.

“I already told you, I have an interest in reaching the town, beyond just getting out of the cold.”

“Well, I’m headed in the same direction,” said Chris. “I was hoping to arrange a warm place to stay while Cirothe hunts. I just don’t know the town.”

“There's a little inn there. Come on, it's less lonely walking with another person.”

“This is true,” replied the chef, following after her for lack of anything better to do. “I’m Chris.”

“I'm Karuka,” she responded.

“Nice to meet you.” He grinned and gazed out to the woods where his mount was hunting. “It’d be neat if there was an orphanage out in the forest somewhere.” Karuka shook her head.

"The nearest orphanage is actually in a larger town, two days walk from here," she told him, letting him catch up with her before resuming her journey. "I considered letting Meg stay there, but decided that after our run-in with the church it would be safer to board her somewhere. After all, if I'm not going to let a lizard kill her, why would I let a den of serpents?"

Chris just shrugged, walking along with her. Couldn't she take a joke?

"Now, if there were a church around and he decided that he'd like a nice lunch of fresh priest, that would probably be for the better," she said, musing to herself while throwing a hint of humor in. Dead priests were a lot more funny to her than dead children.

Chris glanced over and raised an eyebrow. "Priests are just as human as we are."

Karuka snorted, puffs of white curling around her head in indignation. "I've yet to meet one that was any better than a monster. At least...I have yet to meet one better than a monster in this frozen country."

She shivered slightly. It was so cold here after coming fresh from the steaming jungles of Dheathain, and if it didn't make her sick, she was sure she'd never get sick again.

"Many of your regular priests in this country are just worshiping peacefully and are nothing to worry about," Chris told her, then paused uncomfortably. "It's the powers behind the church that I worry about."

"The Church and its powers are nothing without the ordinary men that can choose their own actions," she said, shaking her head. "Nothing. A quiet priest that stayed in his place of worship and was peaceful would be fine, but I won't excuse an organization that tells its people that if they don't want to be damned, they'll kill innocents in order to 'purify' their ranks. Too much of that happened and will happen in my own country for me to rest easy with a child here, and if I had friends in Corone or Dheathain I'd whisk her straight away. It just isn't safe here, between one side and the other."

"What I mean is, the situation is far more complex than it seems." His tone held something of a weary knowledge, as though he knew more than she did - and she wouldn't doubt it, since he sounded like a native of the country and she'd only been here twice, for no more than a few weeks.

She shrugged. "I'm just a simple girl. If I see something, I tell it like it is. I have no stake in Salvar, or I'd move heaven and earth to change it, but the way I see it, this place is Hel, and not looking to get any better."

"Well, I can't argue with that. I can hope you're wrong, though, but the more I look at it, the more it seems like I should find a home elsewhere." There was a touch of something in his voice, and Karuka glanced over at him to get a look at his features. There was a trace of something in the surface of the eye and turn of the mouth that spoke of something...if it had been a little different, she'd have said a wistful look...but now she had to think 'forlorn.'

"Life's too short to do everything," she told him, feeling her tongue clip the o's and lightly skip the r's. She knew she was getting colder, since her face was lacking the control to suppress her native accent. "But still too long to just settle down at home so young."

They came to a slight crest, and from it they could see the tiny dot that was the village, only about twenty buildings a little less than a mile off. "But there's no harm in taking rests every now and again. We'll be there in a few minutes."

Soon enough, they were stepping into the slush that marked the little town's road, and Karuka pointed Chris to the inn, meanwhile knocking on the door of a villager's house, eager to check up on the pretty little blonde child she'd deposited there three months before.

“Thank you,” said Chris, waving to Karuka and making his way to the sleepy little inn. It was a simple, wooden structure with a cozy feel to it that reminded him of home. He only hoped that the war and unusually cold winter hadn’t driven the prices of room and board up too astronomically high.

He pushed the door open and entered the main bar serving area with the chime of a silver bell above the door to greet him. The place was small and warm, if not a bit cramped and over-cluttered with tables and chairs. The sudden, extreme transition between freezing cold and warm made his face prickle.

“Good afternoon, stranger,” boomed a burly, bald bartender. He was a massive man with a scraggly grey beard and a large belly. He eyed the chef with curiosity. Chris knew how it was in small town taverns; everyone knew each other and a newcomer stuck out like a tree in the desert.

“Give me the warmest, frothiest ale you’ve got,” said the chef, sliding onto a barstool.

“Gotcha!” replied the barkeep, sliding a steaming mug to Chris. “The only thing hotter is the fat in frying pots.”

“Oh, thank god,” the cook muttered, taking a sip. “I might be warm in five hours, now.”

“Did you come a long way?” asked the huge man.

“All the way from the Northern province,” he replied. “And it seems that the further south I go, the colder it gets.”

“Aye, it’s a wonder you made it this far, son. And not just the cold, what with war going on and bandits everywhere. How did you make it?”

Chris grinned, his usually soft eyes turning hawkish. “I’m tougher than I look.” The bartender raised an eyebrow. “But not so tough as I would want to sleep another night out there. Are there any rooms available?”

“Yeah, all of ‘em. Nobody’s wanted to come through here for over a month.”

“Really? It’s a nice town on a major road. Why not?” Just then, there was a crash and a shout outside in the street. “Oh… that’s why.”

Out of Character:

Can someone with the proper powers please move this to the Unresolveds? Thanks.