Caravan Interrupted

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Closed to Vasiner, Homunculus, Into Dust, and Camella.

I sat in my lonely room on the second floor of the inn as the morning sun slowly rose over the tall stone and wood buildings of Radasanth. The amber light cascaded through the windows, casting shadows against the far wall. One of the innkeeper's boys was nice enough to bring me breakfast; a short stack of pancakes drenched with maple syrup and a glass of fresh, ice cold milk. However, I was feeling rather unpleasant as I slowly shoveled the food into my mouth.

A few inches away from the plate sat a piece of worn parchment, folded neatly and sealed with a drop of wax that was pressed with the seal of the Dajas Pagoda. I received the battle notice yesterday, but didn't bother to open it. They were all the same, anyways. Blah blah blah, opponent's name, yadda yadda, two weeks to get your scrawny ass back here, something or other.

Leaning back in my chair, I tilted my head to the side to take in the morning beauty of the bustling city. Through the open window, I could catch faint wisps of street vendors setting up their stands, preparing for the day's business while children hollered at one another as they ran off to school. Eventually, my thoughts sourly drifted to how much the Pagoda administration hated my knack of constantly running off, traveling around Corone whenever I wasn't tied down with a fight at the legendary establishment. No matter how many times I've had to explain it to them--and believe me, there were numerous occasions--those damned monks couldn't get it through their heads that I wasn't going to grow as a fighter by dicking around down there. I had to learn, I had to discover new ways to inflict pain and misery. Nestled in my worn leather satchel was a small composition notebook, its pages nearly filled with hastily scribbled notes that evidenced my research; short paragraphs detailing formulas for a myriad of powders and potions of ill effect, a few names that popped up repeatedly in my studies, incomplete sentences regarding different forms of magic... None of which I have put to any good use yet, mind you.

Placed next to the notebook was a volume I had on loan from the Radasanth Grand Library entitled Basic Elemental Incantations. Under normal circumstances, the book would have never fallen into my hands, but the library's curator, Mr. Wilkensen, owed me a huge favor after some exceptional work on my behalf (get your mind out of the gutter--I merely alphabetized the fiction wing; a herculean task nobody else would pick up). It took a bit more persuasion than usual to convince the portly man to hand it over, but after flipping through the old and tattered pages, I decided it was well worth it.

As eager as I was to find a safe spot and practice some of the phrases, I had a more pressing matter to attend to: I had to haul ass back to Scara Brae. Two weeks was just enough time to get there, barring any unfortunate circumstances--say, a sudden disease, a kidnapping, or being caught up in Corone's civil war.

After I took a hot bath, packed up all my stuff, and bought a couple sandwiches and a bottle of vodka for lunch, I decided it was high time to find a quick way out of the impressive city. The sun drew higher overhead, the orange glow of the morning giving way to a piercing white. The streets were packed with people now, weaving amongst one another as they tried to move along the cobblestone streets.

After several hours of running around the city, I was able to draw a bead on a caravan that was scheduled to depart later today. It was a relatively small farming caravan, carrying crops from the farms that were scattered outside of Radasanth all the way to Underwood. I decided to see if I could hitch a ride.

Once I drew closer to the outskirts of the giant city, I could see it. Twelve sturdy wooden carts were set up in a line with several tanned, muscular men loading crates bulging with corn and potatoes and heavy sacks of grain into them. A few canvas tarps covered two of the wagons. Other people were circling the carts, checking things off inventory lists as they went about their business. A couple younger boys were clumped by a group of oxen, sheep, and cattle grazing in the fields off in the distance. There was also one figure who stood out; he was a well-dressed man, his age revealed by a thinning head of snow white hair and a bushy mustache to match it. His face was red from overexposure to the sun. The man's fingers were flying every which way, as he commanded the grunts to do their duties.

I slowly approached the man, clearing my throat to grab his attention. He spun around, letting out a small gasp of surprise. "Whoa there, missy. You scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry," I half-heartedly offered.

"That's quite alright. What can I do for you?"

"I heard that this caravan is going to Underwood. By any chance would you mind giving me a lift?"

The old man looked at the carts and sucked on his teeth for a brief second. "Well, we don't really have any room for hitchhikers--"

My hand swiftly moved into my satchel, producing a handful of gold coins. "I'll pay," I coldly interrupted him as I shoved the money into his hand.

His eyes lit up as they took in the sight of the shining metal coins. He chuckled lightly, "If that's the case, what's one more head to count? The covered wagons near the end are where the rest of the hands ride when they're not making sure the livestock don't go astray."

I flashed him a quick smile and a "thank you" as I turned on my heels and strode over to one of the two covered wagons.

[Into Dust]

It had been quite a few years since Kiete Woodbraith had seen the inside of a caravan. The boots that covered his feet and the clothes that adorned his person were testament to that. Although he did his best to ensure he was never classified as scruffy, a certain amount of dust covered his body to show that he did prefer tackling the dirt path without wheels. Time had never been a factor, it was always the journey that had held all the importance. He had no deadlines, there was no time constraint holding him. Kiete was a ranger of the world. No matter where he ran, there were always problems to be solved and he was never far away.

A few hours ago, yet another problem presented itself before him. Radasanth, the bustling metropolis, was hardly his favorite place. With so many different races in such close proximity, it was almost impossible for conflicts not to arise. It had gotten to the point where he had taken his first step to ignoring this melting pot all together. Kiete deliberately skipped the town every time he came across Corone, sometimes even taking an elaborate detour. The ranger knew that eventually this would lead to nonchalance towards his overall mission, but frankly... he was beginning to see the futility of it all. He still journeyed, he still helped where he could but it didn't seem as if he was making any difference. And with his recent troubles added into the mix, it almost seemed as if it was more than he could bear.

It was this problem that had brought Kiete to Radasanth, almost against his wishes. Ultimately, it had proved fruitless and the ranger was left to glance agonizingly at the disgrace of the world that he had dragged himself into. Poverty and crime was aplenty in the poorer sections of the city and Kiete dared not look upon the more affluent areas, for he knew that darker evils resided there.

Alcohol, his one friend through the years, served as a temporary deterrent to his problems. One bar had served as his haven in Radasanth for many years and it was underneath its roof where Kiete sought refuge until he could muster the strength to resume his journey. By the time the serving wench arrived for his order, the ranger had put up his facade, the smile of a handsome, mature man sending flushes of red through the face of the young girl.

The first drink went down almost as quickly as it had came and reinforcements were quickly summoned via the wench. Unfortunately, the second drink came with an added surprise, one that the ranger was no comfortable with.

"Kiete Woodbraith!" a strangely familiar voice shouted from across the room. The ranger's ears perked up at the sound of his name and he turned in its direction to see an aged, chubby man wobble towards him.

"Dentreas," Kiete replied, with a smile. "How does the world treat you, my old friend?"

Small talk presided for the next few minutes, where Dentreas remarked on how Kiete had changed since his days in the army and how well he looked as an older man. The ranger shut it out, throwing his facade forward while scanning for the earliest opportunity to resume his drink and retreat to his bed for much needed rest. It pained him to admit that ignoring Dentreas was the highlight of his journeys to Radasanth. Unfortunately, the chubby bartender was unwilling to let Kiete that easy.

"Old friend," he said, his tone changing to one that the ranger knew instantly meant he wanted something. "Might you be interested in doing an old man a favor?"

"That depends."

"A small caravan is riding out of Radasanth within the next day and a friend of mine is sending a few goods down to Underwood with it. Could you..."

Kiete instantly wanted to deny but logic told him that this would be the quickest way to exit what he had always thought of as the bogs of Althanas. If he delayed, he could easily be stuck in the swamp and trapped into more of Dentreas' life.

"Fine. But you owe me drinks..." Kiete said, with a mischievous smile across his weathered features. "Now."

-------------------------------

A few hours later and the ranger was sitting underneath the cover of a large canvas, secured to a large wagon. This one was presently unoccupied, though he had a strong sense he would be sharing his space on the ride to Underwood with giant crates filled with who knows what. That did not bother him one bit, he was more than eager to get out. The seats were what did though, they were extremely uncomfortable, to the point where he had removed some of his equipment and let them rest against the wagon's bench. His quiver of arrows laid just to the right and his fine long sword, sheathed and to the left. His dagger was still at his waist, while he fiddled with the bowstring of his beautiful longbow.

Rustling in the canvas alerted the ranger's alert senses and he quickly turned his head to the entrance, one hand reaching for his dagger. That hand quickly relaxed when who appeared to be his latest companion revealed herself. Her stance indicated she meant him no harm, though Kiete knew better than to judge a book by its cover. The journey to Underwood was a long one and the ranger knew he had to be careful of each and every one of this girl's pages on the way there. You would never know.

Still, there was no point in not playing this game. He shifted his bow to his right hand and extended his left hand towards her.

"Hello, my dear. My name is Kiete Woodbraith."

[Abomination]

The thirst for power was an unquenchable one. The Homunculus would search and search, but he would never truly be satisfied. One thing he had gained recently, aside from a complete body makeover once again, was autonomy of will. The old 'self' had been discarded, replaced by this individual that was fully aware of what he could truly accomplish. It was like a wild, terrible beast had gained a will. That will sought assimilations, for they were the only way to unlock the tomes of knowledge locked within his mind. If he was to become an a fully-realized individual, he needed the full access of his mind. Homun merely followed his appetite, which accurately took him to his next target of assimilation. It was not exactly an efficient process, as he often did not feel out the presence of potential assimilations until they were relatively nearby. He figured, from previous experience in the city, that Radasanth was the best place to seek out these targets. In fact, he had just gotten to the outskirts of the city when he starting feeling anxious. A feeling of eustress washed over him, and his walk turned into a run, his mouth salivating at the possibilities and his grin as wide as ever. It was a feeling that gave him a premonition of where his targets where, or at least their general area. He was on a different road from where he felt his targets were, so he sprinted through the woods.

When he got close, he slowed down and kept his cover behind a tree. There were a lot more people here than he thought. It occurred to him that most of them simply weren't worth assimilating, hence why his specific ESP did not pick them up. He looked around, because in his vision his targets had a white outline around them, and especially powerful targets were glowing entirely. Thankfully, there were none of them here, since he didn't want to deal with anymore like Luc Kraus, but one female caught his interest. She had the outline, albeit faint, and it was enough to distinguish her from the others. He couldn't very well make a scene right now, so he decided to observe the situation from his position. She appeared to be talking to someone, and after some sort of transaction, she headed towards the wagons. Homun snarled. She was going to be on that thing, which means until she got off she would be surrounded by many men ready to fend off fiendish invaders such as himself. Of course, he wasn't like The Homunculus of old, he had intellect now! Was there not some way to keep track of this caravan till its end, and then make his move once she's all alone?

He got a little closer to the back of the caravan still on the edge of the trees and accidentally stepped on a branch. One of the boys tending to the livestock noticed and looked towards the bushes. He was only four and a half feet tall, wore blue overalls with a white shirt underneath as well as light brown boots, and had short brown hair with clear blue eyes.

"Anybody there?" he asked.

Scratching his head, the boy walked towards the woods. He knew that there was something there, but shrugged and started walking back before hearing the loud rustle again.

He turned around sharply, once again asking, "Hello?"

He carefully walked toward the bushes. There was something in there. He got closer, closer, and closer... and peered inside...

SNATCH! Arms extended from the bush, wrapped themselves around the body, and pulled him into the shrubbery. The plant shook for a few moments, then everything fell silent. The boy stepped out of the plant, but something was different about him. He had rings around his eyes like he hadn't gotten any sleep recently, and his hair was messy. He kept his mouth shut, because in there were fangs. Walking back to the livestock, he finished herding them up and got on with the other helpers. An unnoticeable pool of blood gently seeped out of the shrubbery, with the faint shadow of a hand lying almost at the edge of the plant.

[Vasiner]

His Ele’a was silent, sulking in the corner of his own mind as his Ala’e spirit protector commandeered his body. It had been several days., perhaps even weeks or months, since he had left his decimated homeland, living since then as a mercenary for hire, evading those who hunted him, trying to kill the last of his kind. Master of a Slave-God, Ele’a Vasiner Ra’Ala’e could only watch as his spirit controlled his life. All in the name of protecting him.

It had been only a day or so since Vasiner had run into a group of twenty bandits, and already he had taken them over completely. They had made a dire mistake underestimating him, though he was only one. But within a few moments, he had found and amputated the limbs of their leader, and reduced their numbers to fifteen. After letting them look long and hard at the mutiliated bodies bleeding out upon the earth, it did not take long for Ala’e Vasiner” to convince them to follow him. He was now the master of many slaves.

Ele’a Vasiner didn’t like it. But to his Ala’e, it didn’t matter. It was fun, after all…


“Master Vasiner!”

I spun around, frightening my men as I turned to scowl at… what was his name? Lackey number one. “You’d better have some good news.”

He, along with the rest of my gang, blanched. I grinned, showing all my teeth. They know it’s not a pleasant experience to test me… especially not after I dispatched their former leader. The now-limbless bandit was now giving off the delightful smell of rotting flesh, lying somewhere in the bushes providing a king’s feast for worms. Serves him right, trying to rob me.

I don’t usually work with other humans. They’re mostly idiots. But seeing them cower before me as I sliced off their leader’s arm was fun. I figured if I took control of them, I could use them to my advantage. And it’s working out very well.

It’d work better if they could actually do anything without me babysitting them half the time, but it looked like Number One had something to say this time.

“There’s a caravan… um, uh, twenty…?

“Twenty?”

“Twelve! I mean. Yeah, twelve carts. They look like they’re being manned by rich folk. Sure to have loot. They’re headed to Underwood, so they’ll be in our way. We just gotta wait a little.”

Finally. I stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close to my face. I relished his gasp of fear and the choked gasps of the 14 other fools as I leered at him “You’d better be telling the truth. If not… your fingers go snip snip. Understand?”

“Yeah…!”

“Good.” I tossed him aside. Beautiful. Isn’t this great, Ele’a? He didn’t say anything.

It’s a rare time when my Ele’a shuts up for more than a day, but I can’t say I regret his silence. No one really knows what it’s like to view someone’s inexcusable idiocy through said idiot’s own eyes… well, I can rightfully say it’s unbearable. When I took control of a motley gang of lowlife bandits, he argued, yelled, shouted, cursed at me for god knows how long. Well, he’s just pouting now. Good for him.

He’s the usual master of this body. I’m his Ala’e, just a spirit assigned to protect him. Well, I’m protecting him by having my own personal slaves… even if they all smell. And keeping them under control means controlling this body. It all works out.

I turned to study them. They were all armed at least with a dagger, six with scimitars and the like. Most were fairly young, dressed in scruffy clothes… well, they were bandits. I was the only one dressed better, even in these mottled, green camo cloths.

They stared at me with those big, blank eyes. Inwardly, I sighed. This was going to take some work. I snapped my fingers and pointed at two of the six scimitar guys. “You two. You’ll be leaders, got it? Each of you get six men. Today you’ll find out why I’m the leader – it’s because I’m smart, and we’re going to take every cart hostage.” I smirked at Number One. “You… are with me.”

I drew my broadsword as he scrambled up. There was no doubt in my mind that he was going to die. I love making sacrifices…

[Camella]

Camella had been hitting rock bottom as far as bounty hunting jobs were concerned. There were three wanted posters she had noticed in this city. One was her own. She was surprised that going berserk in a hospital only made her head worth 2500 gold. She thought it would be more. Still, it had forced her to enter town in her invisible state

The second wanted poster was a worthless piece of junk. A killer named Ele'a Vasiner was on the loose, but despite the fact that he "Became the leader of a small gang of bandits through brutality" (According to his wanted poster) He only would rake in 50 gold. She needed money, but having to deal with a gang of bandits and the leader for such low pay was completely out of the question.

The third wanted poster was of a thief named Van Di'arra. If she caught him, it would rake in a good lump sum of 700 gold, but it seemed somebody caught him just yesterday. Since there were really no good bounties she could take in Radasanth, she planned to hitch a ride to the next town on a caravan that was nearby.

Her plan was simple. As soon as the man loading the carts with tarps on them finished up, she would sneak under the tarp and hitch a ride to the next city, which would hopefully provide her with better money making opportunities.

Camella watched as the crates were loaded and smiled as she realized that the man loading the crates was almost done.

As she watched the last crate get loaded, Camella thought she saw something shiny fall to the ground. Upon further inspection, though, she realized it was just her imagination.

Suddenly she remembered she still had to get in, and with one swift move, she made her way underneath the tarp. This didn't go entirely unnoticed, though, as her swift entry sent the tarp blowing upwards a bit.

"What was that?" One farmhand said.

"Probably the wind." Said the man who loaded the crates.

Camella thanked god she had thought to keep invisible for just a bit longer.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Several of the caravan hands shot me weird looks as I walked towards the back wagons, their frantic glances all but screaming their confusion over the new face. I mostly ignored them; they were going to be too busy to pay any attention to me once we left for Underwood.

As I climbed the short wooden ladder that led into the cart and pushed aside the canvas covering it, a voice called out with a greeting that startled me. My hand instinctively went to the small of my back, where I usually kept my daggers safely strapped--it was too bad that the damascus beauties were stashed deep within my satchel. A thin, black-clad man was sitting on the opposite side, surrounded by crates and rough canvas sacks full of whatever. My fifty feet of steel wire was curled loosely around both of my thin upper arms and hidden by the sleeves of my black blouse top--I nearly sent the strands out to wrap themselves around the man's rough, tanned neck. I could clearly imagine his deep brown eyes bulging out of their sockets and his shaggy mess of black hair flailing all over the place as he struggled for a breath of air.

But, I stayed my telekinesis when he extended his left hand for a friendly handshake. I looked at his rough hand, at the man's bow, and then at him. "Hi," I reluctantly offered with a weak smile. "Madison Freebird."

I took my seat without shaking Kiete's hand. Trying to get comfortable on the wooden plank that served as a makeshift bench, I pulled the book out of my satchel and opened it up to the first page.


***

Kashou - The most basic of fire-based incantations. This single word taps into the energies flowing within your veins, gathering and summoning them into a ball of flame that will form in the palm of your hand. While the fire burns, it will slowly consume your energy until you extinguish it by cutting off your energy. The flame's size will be directly related to how much energy you can channel into it, and is yours to command freely.

Ugh. All this talk of channeling energy and shit... It was as if that chef guy I fought in the Citadel wrote this book.

The caravan had gotten underway roughly an hour after I paid for my way. Judging by the hard time I was having focusing on the book, either the road or the cart was in pretty bad shape. As the miles passed, the constant tossing around was beginning to make me sick. Clutching the open book to my chest, I slowly made my way out of the cart and into the bright afternoon sun. The cries of insects and birds dotted the peaceful air like the well-placed notes of a symphony against the drudging noises of livestock complaining about the travel and the groaning carts that they mindlessly followed. Little beams of sunlight poked through the treetops.

Keeping alongside the wagon, I returned to the book. As with all of the other incantations, proper pronunciation of the word is vital to the effectiveness of it. Fire incantations are among the more dangerous when they backfire; the errant burst of flame may cause severe burns on the caster's skin or other kinds of permanent damage. As always, extreme caution is highly encouraged. Make sure that you are a safe distance from anything flammable when you attempt this incantation.

Thank you, mother.

Looking around, I didn't see anything terribly flammable, save for the hair and clothes of some caravan hands. I held my right hand out and away from the covered wagon and quickly ran through the paragraph once more, steeling myself for my first attempt at summoning fire. "Alright, let's give this a shot..." I paused before reciting the incantation.

"Keh-show! ...AAAAAH!"

I could literally feel the word sap a chunk of my strength as my hand was quickly consumed with a bright red and orange fire. Pain quickly shot up through my arm as I screamed at the top of my lungs, startling the trailing livestock and the boys watching them.

"Lady, what's wrong?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I snapped at the boys through clenched teeth, my engulfed hand frantically waving through the air, snuffing the flame nearly as soon as it manifested. Holy fuck, was I hurting--and unlike all my other recent tastes of pain, there weren't any Ai'Brone monks here to kiss it and make it feel better. After I was done dancing around like a maniac, I examined the damage. Thankfully, there wasn't much--my skin felt a little tender and appeared a bit on the pink side, but nothing too serious. I brushed a small tear away from my eye.

The burning, tingling sensation that washed over my hand reminded me of that time back when I was three, when my mom was cooking dinner on the stove. She told me not to touch the pan, because it was hot and burn myself--and since I was a dumb little shit back then, I think you can piece the rest of the story together for yourself.

Cursing to myself and cradling my poor right hand, I hastily shoved the book back into my satchel before quickening my pace to catch up with the covered wagons as they traveled away from the setting sun.

[Into Dust]

The long journey on the bumpy road of the caravan was more than enough to ensure Kiete would never again sacrifice the battered dirt track for the apparent comfort of a rickety carriage. Not to mention that his company was less than friendly. The girl who shared the poor seats with him gave him an expression so hostile that it would send a troll skittering. This did not faze him though, for he was used to these sorts of people. He simply turned his head away, shifting further into the carriage. As soon as the caravan moved off, he subtly moved all his weapons onto his person. Some form of intuition told him that he would need them before this caravan reached Underwood. When the journey began, Kiete had thought it was possible to let his guard down, at least slightly, so that his tired mind could get at least some form of rest. No such luck. Unused to the constant shaking as the caravan moved on poor terrain, the ranger could sense his mind shaking within his head and he could hardly open his eyes to see without a headache greeting him.

How he wished his boots could be on stable ground, to taste the dirt once again.

When it finally stopped, a relieved and somewhat woozy Kiete stumbled from the caravan, landing happily on the ground below. It was slightly rocky, which explained the turbulence but what caused the ranger the greatest disdain was the number of trees that he had messed while the dirty and smelly tarp blocked his view. Now that nature was back with him, he could almost taste the dew, even though it had been morning since it had evaporated from tree leaves. Glancing around, he regretted taking this task at all. Sighing, he regretted being a man of his world and moved towards a nearby tree.

The ranger had left most of his weapons aboard the caravan, save for his Destiny, the deadly main gauche he always kept secured to his belt. He drew it from his sheath as he turned to lean against the tree, half an eye on the fine steel blade and the rest focused sternly on the cabin. The advantage to being friendly and generally approachable was that the cabin hands and farm boys did not approach him at all, for they did not suspect him of doing anything suspicious. The girl was a different matter entirely. They eyed her suspiciously, they even followed her when she left the cabin, eying her from a distance. With Kiete though, even if they chose to follow him, they would never find him. For now that he wore his magical cloak and hid underneath the shadow of the tree, he became partially invisible. Unless if they were really searching for him, they would never find the now almost translucent ranger. As added insurance though, he used one of his abilities and phased his body into the tree he was leaning on. Except for his eyes, which he needed to monitor his company, Kiete Woodbraith was one with the tree. Much better than sitting within a caravan made out of wood from a fallen tree.

The girl attempted to try casting a spell, but it backfired and she was left tasting the backlash of self inflicted damage. Kiete almost chuckled, but felt his face burn hot suddenly. The familiar feeling caused the ranger's eyes to flare red and his entire body to increase in temperature, almost rapidly. Without a second thought, he continued his phasing, appearing on the other side of the large tree trunk, blocking himself from the views of the rest of the traveling party. Instantly, he raised both of his palms, removing the beaten gloves that covered his hands, throwing them to the ground. Just as his expected, his ability was manifesting itself again. Even though his whole body was hot, his palms were generating the most heat. Hovering a few inches above each of his palms was a flame, about the size of his fist. Trying to keep calm, the ranger promptly clenched his fists tightly, instantly extinguishing the flames. The feeling that had preceded and remained when the flames were with him stayed though, until he concentrated, slowing down his breathing. Gradually, his temperature lowered and he composed himself.

"Much better - and faster - than last time," Kiete said to himself. Even though he could not bring himself to smile, the ranger phased himself back through the tree, tasting his last taste of nature, before he moved for the caravan, already preparing to move off once again.

[Abomination]

Shortly after the caravan took off, one of the farmhands looked at Homun- who was now disguising himself as a typical boy- and addressed him in such a manner, "I think one of the tarps may be loose out back, wanna go re-fasten it?"

It wasn't an order, but a question. Yet, something inside the boy's memory told Homun to treat it as an order. He silently nodded, which was actually unusual for the normally-jovial boy, but he couldn't risk anyone seeing his carnivorous teeth. Leaving quickly, he checked the tarp and it was indeed loose. He lifted it up and couldn't sworn there was something in there besides what he could see... but it was no use. He was currently assimilating this boy, and as such all the outlines of potential assimilations vanished from his sight. He re-fastened the tarp and went back to the other workers.

Before coming back to Radasanth, Homun had assimilated many people along the way. He couldn't choose when to end the assimilation, but he noticed something important: If he doesn't exert himself while under the effects of his assimilation, it can last quite a while. Another thing was that if the assimilated victim was weaker than he was, he wouldn't gain any sort of long-term benefits no matter what he did. If the victim was stronger than he was, then he had to test the victim's memories and abilities, usually in combat, to acquire a permanence of their entire being in his mind. Otherwise, he could just run around slapping really powerful people and gaining the full benefits of his assimilations. All these rules and regulations for getting stronger annoyed him, but he couldn't argue with the results. At the very least, he could steal the form of the one he was assimilating for the duration of the assimilation. He couldn't do anything about his teeth, however.

Eventually, the caravan stopped for a break. This is when Homun noticed Kiete for the first time. He looked normal enough, and since he was under the influence of a current assimilation there was no way of telling whether he was a potential target or not. It was his cloak that tipped Homun off. He had an inaccessible inventory of magical items in his mind, but the only thing he could pull from his wealth of information was recognition. The cloak was familiar as a magical item, although Homun had no way to prove this notion. Also, his clothes in general were odd for any sort of 'normal' person.

The Homunculus followed Madison with his alleged brethren but kept his distance. Once again, this situation didn't lend itself to any opportunities for attack. The little magical feat did imprint some recognitions into his head, however. Elemental magic was a facet of Luc Kraus. Of course, the thought that Luc Kraus was the only user of such abilities was one of the old Homunculus, the one before Homun took over. Either way, he made a mental note of it. A thought crept into his head from the mind of Teric Bloodrose that magic users were no good to deal with. Soon, the caravan will move again and they will reach Underwood, or rather that's what the boy's mind told him would happen. This woman is expected to disperse and that will be his chance at assimilation. While this may be a lot of effort just for one assimilation, he was fixated on his targets until his objective was met. There was also the side thought of ripping her apart, but that came with the territory. Despite gaining intellect and the ability to reason recently, he still had a one-track mind.

[Vasiner]

Well, it took a bit of scrounging around in my... uh, lair. But everyone was armed with at least more than one weapon. Now we were ready. I tilted my head at them, these idiots, waiting for my command. I obliged them. Take a breath.

“Move!” As soon as the word left my lips, the bandits scattered. Seven dashed away in one direction – seven others to another, each group led by the newly-promoted leaders. A few seconds, and they were gone, vanished into the trees and bushes. I smiled to myself, grinning at Number One who stood beside me, humble as a slave should be.

My plan was fairly simple. Seven of my men on one side of the road, seven on the other. Wait, and relax. It was the same trick they tried to play on me, and it usually works quite well… only I’m not the usual victim.

This was hardly any different, and it wasn’t long before the rumbling sounds of wheels rolling across the ground reached my ears, and less time before the caravan reached my eyes. Crouching low, I waited until the median of the line reached me. I raised my hand, and made a high, slow sweeping motion. Behind me, I sensed the smooth, silent movements of seven men move past me, spreading out to form their own line, following the twelve wagons. I focused my eyes before me, seeing the faintest movement of the others following suit, hidden still within the woods. Our victims didn’t know it, but they were just about surrounded now.

I inched close to my comrade, handing him my broadsword, forcing it into his grimy hands. “You know what to do. Remember to give the signal.”

He swallowed tensely. “Are you sure?”

I patted his shoulder in response, and smiled as he dashed off to the front of the caravan. Moving to the back, I laughed quietly. The fool.

We trailed the caravan, all sixteen of us, me at the back, one at the front, the rest to either side… waiting and watching until it finally came to a rest. Still I waited, waited for the proper time when the people of the caravan would be relaxed and not yet ready to move on. Patience always was a virtue. I watched until the passengers and whatever guards there were appeared at ease. I grinned, raised my hand again, and repeated the motion a few times, making sure it would be seen by my comrades.

That motion followed a brisk line as each bandit passed it along until it reached Number One.

Wait a few more moments… okay.

I stood up and boldly walked out onto the road, weaving my fingers in front of me, looking exactly as I wanted to look; unarmed and quite harmless, approaching the caravan from behind.

What are you doing? the sleepy voice disturbed my peace of mind. Great timing.

I’m robbing a caravan. Watch.

I raised my arms and yelled in a disgustingly cheerful voice.

“EXCUSE me!” I shouted, making sure everyone heard me… bandits included. “I heard you GOOD folk were HEADED to UNDERWOOD. I’d be WARY if I were YOU, though. Because there are BANDITS on the loose, you KNOW.” I paused for the needed attention.

What are you doing? They’ll recognize you! We’ve got a bounty on our head!

That’s the point, Ele’a. We’re the diversion. Once everyone’s attention is focused on me, Number One will give the signal, and everyone dies. Oh hey, check this out. “My name’s VASINER, by the way. I’m a very HONEST PERSON!”

Oh my god… are you an idiot?!

"ANOTHER THING!" Another pause, and a high, eerily human shriek, like that of a hunting eagle, sounded throughout the woods. I smiled. "You're all dead."

In the midst of my words and Number One's lovely signal, ten steel knives from either side of the caravan line shot from the trees,followed swiftly by a barrage of well-aimed arrows.

Me? I crossed my arms and waited for my own victim. Not much I can do without a weapon, can I?

[Camella]

Camella was confused. Why would anyone want to attack a caravan like this? There wasn't anything worth their time here, was there?


It really didn't matter. Her mind was on two main points right now. Vasiner was the one on the bounty poster. If he were to succeed in whatever he was attempting, his bounty might go up enough to actually make him worthwhile. The other thing on her mind was she needed to find a way to survive this mess.

"Alright, Vasiner. It's time to see how well you know your troops." Camella said to herself, getting ready to help Vasiner's bandits with any resistance they may encounter.

Hopefully, she would be able to convince him she was working for him, not only as an act of self preservation and a way of making sure his bounty skyrocketed, but maybe, just maybe, she could find out why they were attacking the caravan.

[Lye]

BABE:


250 XP
22 GP



Into Dust:


162 XP
22 GP



ABOM:


279 XP
22 GP



Vasiner:


162 XP
22 GP



Camella:


162 XP
22 GP

[Lye]

EXP & GP Added!