How it came to pass (Open)

[Koran]

((Continued from here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=16804)...))

In the brief moments that Jordhan had to himself after his people lifted off into the sky were fleeting and as he thought back on them, he thought it best that they had been. In the instant that his memories had been restored to him, all of his problems of the last few months had been brought to light and solved. That strange voice he had been hearing for the last few days had been himself, his true self, lurking in the shadows of his deranged mind. It was strange now, to think of the voice as his own, when at the time he could have sworn it was not. All he did however, was smile and shake his head as he picked his way carefully down from the low rise where his people had landed.

That strange vision too, from just two days ago, had been answered as well. His first mission as the man he was now, or perhaps had used to be. He could easily say that he would never become that creature again, those days were long behind him and he hoped to keep it that way. Even that kind yet abstract scorcerous, with her strange way of making him reaize that he was indeed more than he seemed to himself, had finally made sense. Not that it shouldn't have, they always say hindsight is twenty-twenty and if he wasn't a perfect example of that, then he couldn't name a better one.

Finally breaking free of the rock strewn valley that circled the rise, Jordhan emerged startingly close to the spot where his journey here had begun. By the side of a very strange creature whom he had only known to be a witch in her own right but the memories of that journey were enough for him and he simply smiled at the thought.

A strange feeling, he said to himself as he struck out across the field, his great sword held casually over one of his shoulders. To be caught in a world of amnesia, wishing for memories of my past but having them now, I have no will to look upon them. The smile grew a little and he looked to sky, inhaling deeply.

Calamari might have been his place of birth and where his family was, but this was his home. Here, this backwater planet near the fringes of known space, where a man such as himself could be truely free from the clutchs of governments and strict social codes.

[Equation]

A few kilometers ahead and over a series of richly carpeted hills, a figure sniffed the air then scowled in disappointment. The whiff, like all the other whiffs, was irritably the same - salty and moist with a dense, misty essence that told nothing of soil, or life, even though he could see the latter existed further on down the road.

See, but not sense.

Frustrated, he forced his shoulders to relax once again and reclosed his eyes. His conscious was waiting for him and as he released himself into it, it obediently dropped into a wide, circular spread. Through it, Vehne searched for the pulse he'd been accustomed to feeling most of his life and was rewarded, again, with empty echo.

He'd lost the connection.

Again.

So, after a moment of mentally railing against forces that neither heard nor acknowledged him, Vehne did the only thing left in his desperate repertoire. He sighed in quiet agony and thread a witless, gloved hand through his hair. The crop of short strands answered accordingly and stretched their maple hued hands to the air. Below them, a matching set of eyes narrowed on the horizon. Was that the harbor they had just come from, or the town they were heading to? Without sight of the ocean, and having lost his senses in meditation as well as being surrounded on all sides by identical landscape and a damnably cloudless sky, Vehne realized he had to make an admission for the first time in his life.

He was lost.

And not just lost, but oceans and landmass away from his brethren and hungry and tired to boot.

Well, he thought wryly, at least that only makes one of us. He turned into the breeze, and the gentle lifeforce that consistently tugged at his soul. His son was squatting on a hastily piled earthmound, designing an octagonal parapet out of mud, which, of course, had been created with the water that was supposed to be in his waterskin.

"Alright, you little runt." He tried to look stern as he paced up the hill but of course Evam giggled and slapped his hand down on one of the walls.

"There," the boy announced, very officially. "Now there is door. You may enter."

"I may, may I?" Vehne abandoned the reprimand, as he always did, stepped into the structure and lifted his son. Sand rained down, and as Vehne shook off the sandbag that was his son, the tyke giggled and squeaked, never noting his father wasn't sharing in the laughter.

"Alright." Vehne put him down and reached for the skin. It was dry, but there was enough left to moisten a rag which he passed down to his son's grubby hands. "Clean up," he said. "We have to get going."

"To the ship?" Evam's expression perked up.

"No, not the ship." Vehne was pretty sure he never wanted to see another ship in his life, except maybe the one that would eventually take them both home, however many years in the future that would be, but right now he had to concentrate on getting them to Ettermire.

He packed their things, what little they had, and inspected his son's appearance again. A quick application of wet rag to a forgotten earlobe and a dusting of his seat, and they were ready. Vehne took Evam's hand, returned to the road, and immediately stopped. Not a far stretch ahead was a figure. A formidable one, by the looks of his shadow, and Vehne didn't particularly want to meet anyone confident enough to travel unaccompanied on a highway in a country which he was blatantly foreign to.

He guided Evam aside off the road. It was too late to hide, and the only other options were to either risk passing him shoulder to shoulder or stand on the side and respectfully wait. Bargaining on the latter, he tucked Evam behind him distant enough for weapon use but near enough still to protect.

"Be still," he told him.

Evam was smart enough not say anything. He stood there, a miniature version of his father's pale but sharp facade, looking curiously around Vehne's trousered legs toward the oncoming stranger.

Okay, I tried to get more description in there, but it just didn't work. Vehne/Evam's descriptions are in their character profile, but since Vehne is wearing gloves, the only racial aspect you'll see is the plum-sh hue of their hair & Vehne's eyes in direct sunlight and the whispy pattern that covers Evam's forehead and eye. It would be the color of a pale birthmark.

I kinda wrote a bit more than I planned. PM me with any questions you have.

[Koran]

He supposed he was a rather imposing sight for the casual traveler. Seven feet eight inches in height, slim but with a strong muscular figure, a most interesting complexion and not to mention his massive black blade, which he carried casually over his left shoulder like a stick. Of course, he supposed that an even more imposing sight was that he was alone, in a very hostile country.

So as it was, when he finally found himself nearing another traveler, he wasn't surprised to see him off the road some distance, watching him warily. He probably should have thought it curious that he too was alone on the highway, but it didn't click for him right away and he simply looked at him, a warm smile on his pale face, and lifted a hand in casual greeting. He almost kept walking when a small flicker of movement from behind the stranger caught his eye and caught him up short. A face had appeared from behind the strangers legs and disappeared just as quickly once it had seen Jordhan looking at it. It took him only a moment to realize what it had been.

"A dangerous country, to be traveling alone stranger. Even more so, with a small child." A silence stretched between the pair and the taller eased his blade on his shoulder, leaning to the side casually as he looked up the road. "Got a good feeling there's a town up here someplace, saw it as I was passing through a few days ago." His gaze drifted skyward and a smile cracked his face. "Can't recall much though, I was several thousand feet up when I saw it, but my memory isn't known to fail." He then glanced back over his shoulder in the direction he had just come. "Seeing as you were just standing here on the side of the road, waiting for me to pass, I'd have to say you were heading in that direction and I can tell you now that there isn't anything that way except a bad day and a nasty way to die." He looked back to the stranger and small child again and cocked his head to the side. "Seeing as I'm heading in this direction and you look a bit lost, I wouldn't at all mind extending an invitation for you to join me for a stretch. At least as far as the town mind, for what you do after that is up to you." His smile warmed considerably then and he casually pointed toward the child with the hand draped on the hilt of his sword. "Besides, the child wouldn't be quite as helpless with the two of us and it would be good to have the company."

A bird cried out in the distance but for long moments that was the only sound to be heard between the three travelers. Hope the man doesn't think himself strong enough handle this country on his own, especially with a boy in tow.

There was an irony in that thought the tall man realized then, and for a moment he had to think about the fact that he was doing almost the exact same thing. The irony aside, it would still be a comfort to have someone to talk to as he walked.

[Equation]

Vehne shifted, ignoring a much persistent, sweat and sand induced itch on the back of his neck. Beside him, Evam rocked from heel to heel, curiosity emanating from him like a flame. Vehne squeezed the smaller hand once and the rocking stopped. Wide eyes blinked up at him with woebegone brightness. Sorry, Vehne thought. He hadn't wanted to hurt him but he needed him still.

He eyed the stranger, noting the man's patience and stoicity. Unlike Vehne, he seemed to display no unease whatsoever beneath the obvious scrutiny or lingering silence. Not that Vehne himself revealed his discomfort - his facade a pillar of confidence - but one need only to observe his actions, not his face, to know he was unfamiliar here. As obviously had been stated by this stranger. It took all of Vehne's effort not to grind his teeth at his shortcomings.

Several moments passed, through which Vehne spent forming a reply, translating it, and assessing the other man's visible strengths, which there were plenty of, and finally, Vehne offered a smile. What else could he do? If the road ahead was as dangerous as the man said, then he would be a fool to continue. Equally a fool were he walking into a highway trap, but Vehne allowed himself to believe in his instincts. After all, only a foolish thief would attempt to draw coin from a battered pair of child and man traveling a long road on foot without even a pony.

"Your invitation is timely, traveler." Vehne knew his speech was heavily accented, but he also knew his common was well enough to get by. He pointed his chin down the road. "There is indeed a city beyond the hills. You can see it over the second rise, there. We were making our way to Ettermire but if the route we were following is dangerous, then I would indeed appreciate an alternative. Thank you for the offer.

"You may call me Vehne. This is my son, Evam. We're from overseas." That was safe enough to say, he thought, leading Evam from the road's shoulder.

[Koran]

The taller inclined his head respectfully toward Vehne and the younger Evam as they fell in beside him on the road. Strange names, but they did say they were from overseas, whatever that means. After a moment of silence, which caused the already smiling cyborg to smile even broader, the three of them set off at a leisure pace, one that would see them to nearby town by night fall at the latest. As they walked the taller took it upon himself to study the features and mannerisms of his two new companions out of the corner of one eye; a talent he had mastered years long since past.

The two were definitely of a foreign stock, the strong angular features, almost glaringly outlandish on a planet where smooth baby cheek features seemed to abound in the human population, was far more evident in the father than the small boy. The latter having yet to shed his baby fat completely from his frame. Their hair however, was what caused the most fuss for the cyborg. As he had never seen any man, or woman for that matter, with a natural purple tint to their hair. Well, not on this planet anyway. He let the thought bring his diminished smile back to his face and without warning, found himself breaking into song.

It was a drunkard dirge, one he had heard centuries ago while taking some well deserved leave on a backwater planet during the tail end of the Great Wars. He had liked the song then, even if he hadn't been drunk, and he felt that the lively tune was a necessary addition to the stretching silence between the three of them, as well as the ominous inward like pressure of the land around them.

"Ohhhhh, a Veltsman clad in kilt, left the pub one eav'n fair.
One could tell by how he walked, that he'd drunk more than his share.
He staggered on untill he could no longer keep his feet,
Then he stumbled off into the grass to sleep aside the street.

Oh, Ring ding diddle diddle i de o
Ring di diddle i o,
He stumbled off into the grass to sleep aside the street.

About that time two young and lovely lasses happened by,
One says to the other, a twinkle in her eye,
'You see yon sleeping Veltsman, so strong and handsome build,
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath their kilt'

Oh, Ring ding diddle diddle i de o
Ring di diddle i o,
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath their kilt.

They crept up on that Veltsman, quiet as could be,
And lifted up the kilt about an inch so they could see.
And there behold for them to view beneath his Veltish skirt,
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth.

Oh, Ring ding diddle diddle i de o
Ring di diddle i o,
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth.

They marveled for a moment then one said we must be gone,
Let's leave a present for our friend, before we move along.
They took a blue silk ribbon and tied it in a bow,
Around the bonnie spar the Veltsman's kilt did lift and show.

Oh, Ring ding diddle diddle i de o
Ring di diddle i o,
Around the bonnie spar the Veltsman's kilt did lift and show.

The Veltsman woke to natures call and stumbled toward a tree,
Behind a bush he lifts his kilt and gawks at what he sees.
Then in a startled voice he says to what's before his eyes,
He said, 'Lad I don't know where you've been, but I see you've won first prize!"

Oh, Ring ding diddle diddle i de o
Ring di diddle i o,
Lad I don't know where you've been, but I see you won first prize!"

Not exactly a children friendly song, but he'd sung it quietly enough as to not sound too raucous and well, at least he hadn't been drunk when he sung it, so it sounded at least halfway decent. But the need for some kind of sound in his current mode of travel had been a must and he sighed softly, having entertained himself enough to the point where he could now engage in casual conversation.

It was at that moment, before he could even utter his first words, that he suddenly remembered that he had forgotten the single most important part of an introduction to a stranger. He chuckled and bowed his head slightly toward Vehne. "Pardon me, I seem to have forgotten my manners somewhere up the road a ways back. It would only be fair, seeing as you gave your names to me, that you should know mine. No fun traveling with a stranger if you don't even know his name." His smile was broad as it was warm, and bowing as he walked beside them, the cyborg quickly introduced himself. "I am called Jordhan Kol'Alamar by my people, but here in this place, I simply go as Koran. You may call me whichever suits you best, or whichever you find simplest to pronounce. I too, am from overseas, but the sea in which I had to cross is more vast and encompassing than any you have yet to cross, or probably ever will cross." His smile gave nothing away except for the fact that it was a friendly smile, in no manner mischievous or hinting at some hidden joke.

He straightened from his slight bow and let his smile lax up a bit. "Enough of all that however, and if you don't mind me asking, what brings a man such as yourself to these lands, with your young son in tow? The only visible weapons between the two of you being that strange blade of yours there." He was careful to stress the word visible only just slightly, for he had learned long ago that even the simplest appearances could give false disastrous first impressions.