A New Beginning (Open)

Being forced to leave the pack, and the community that had grown around it, was quite possibly the second worst thing that had ever happened to Tannis. Now, here he was, trudging down yet another dusty trail, traveling between one small town and another. He had at this point completely lost track of where he was, the hot, dry days had all blended together at some point. The fact that he had faced the same answer at every small town and village that he had found had definitely not helped make any day in particular stand out.

None of them needed a journeyman blacksmith. For some, there just wasn't enough demand for the blacksmith to take on a second worker or a third if the. Already had an apprentice. For the others, they already had a family member or something like that to fill the role, and had no room for an outsider. Whatever the causes of the rejections and denials were, the end results were the same. No one had any work for him.
Tannis tilted his head to one side as his ears caught the faint sound of something. A soft, almost non-existent murmuring, barely audible to his ears. He blinked, and shifted his bag on his shoulder as he turned in the direction, cocking his head to hear better. The sound was steady and consistent, a low rush that sounded like voices just below the edge of awareness. The strapping man stepped off the dusty trail he had been walking along, and forced his way into the brush along the side.

Branches and leaves caught and tugged at his clothes and skin as Tannis pushed through the scrub. The slight sting didn't even register, no more than the hot sun or the dust of the trail had. The sound was growing clearer with every step, and more familiar by the moment. Smooth, silky, growing and fading almost at random. A slight smile curved his lips and his eyes began to dance with excitement as he drew closer to the source of the sound. A final shove, breaking past tree branches and bushes, and he could see it.

Glittering in the afternoon sun like clear jewels, a small stream cut through and over a rocky bed. Even from here he could see fish darting about in the clear waters, and the man had to restrain a laugh of joy. No more trail rations and stale water for him - tonight he'd have fresh fish and clean water to sup on! He dropped his bag a short distance away from the stream and set to work, making himself a basic fishing rod - thankfully he had hooks and some cord he could use, so he just needed wood. And in this forest, wood was to be found in plenty.

Newly crafted tool in hand, Tannis dragged a chunk of rock over towards the edge of the stream and took off his boots. The cool waters rushing over his feet felt soothing, and he let out a grunt of contentment. He didn't have any bait for the hook - but still, he cast the line out. The first fish he caught would be shredded up to serve as bait for later tosses. His hand curled around the haft of the rod and he leaned back, letting his eyes droop a bit. Now, he just had to be patient, as he listened to the sounds of the forest around him.

Slowly did I stride through the darker foliage of the forest, defenceless, sparing the hard staff of wood strapped to my back and the circling of dark energy softly burning through my system. Ever since my brother can gone to the semi-plane of death that belonged to my old enslaver, Morté, the King of Death, and gained me my power back, I had felt comfort at its presence. Now I was putting it to good use - taking no weapons but my quarter staff as I adventured into history and into the woods where trees and ruins held a universe of secrets.

I was looking for a certain aged and crumbled temple that I was told laid here. It was attributed to an god called 'Iamyl,' which I believed was an offshoot of Jomil, and possibly a minor deity in himself. For a couple of months now I had been researching the ancient worship for Jomil, out of personal interest but slowly realiising that it had a more powerful connection to an incoming apocalypse I had been warned was occurring.

According to the rough pages of a tattered book I had actually acquired from my brother's library the temple had a frieze upon it that spoke of how Iamyl had saved his people from a great disaster. The only issue was that it was in some form of ancient Raiaeran, and I definitely needed to work on my elvish.

Therefore, now I was within the trees, bracken under foot and oak brushing against my arms. Sunlight streamed in white rivulets through the gaps of the tree crowns above, some of them stained green by the grass green leaves. Soft shuffles made me aware of small creatures around who nosed at acorns. Flutterings spoke of birds.

Onwards I strode, following both my nose and a crude map I had copied from said book. Eventually I heard the bubbling of a stream and seeing that this was a point of reference for the map, I twisted and began towards that direction. From my pocket I pulled a ration, and began to chew on it as the water became louder.

Loneliness. Peace. Satisfaction. To be away from the strange semi-plane of my brother, and life he was determined that I needed. Knew I did not want. I smiled, a little and tried not to think about my potential daughter. I liked this world, this adventure, which I had firmly told my brother Morningstar not to disturb me on.

I found the river and began to follow it. Curling to the east it led me into the path of hawthorn bushes that I tried to avoid as best as possible, with their barbs that could sting. Striding, I looked at the map and knew I had to follow the stream for a mile or so more and then-

Immediately, I came to a stunner stop as I emerged from the trees. For suddenly, I was not alone. There, sitting on the bank, was a incredibly hairy man and what was worse ...

He was fishing.