Spirit Hunters: Origins

[Spirit Hunters]

The petit elf sat alone on a low tree branch, her feet dangling back and forth aimlessly. Her eyes, usually a beautiful honey-gold in color, now had a red haze about them as she looked at her soft slippers, poking out from under her long, purple overcoat. It was late Autumn in Raiaera and the fall breeze was chill, blowing the folds of the small elven girl’s clothing in every direction, as she tried futilely to collect it all around her.

She sneezed suddenly, as if to let the weather know that the cold wasn’t very well received.

Annabel, the name given to her on the day of her birth, waited at the crossroads just outside of her small elven village, waiting for her escort. On that very day, she had decided to end her time in the hamlet as a fortune teller, and move on to join a very small, and secret organization. She had been presented the offer on the previous summer, but declined politely. Her duties to her mother were more important, and the emissary understood. At the time, she had thought that was the end of it.

But now… with no ties left in the city, the young elf, just entering her seventy-first year –very young by elven standards- wiped the last of the tears from her eyes, and prepared to move on with her life.

Her tapered ears rose slightly as she heard the approaching of wagon wheels, rolling steadily over the hard autumn ground and she slid down from her branch and landed softly on the ground.

______________________________________

Later on the next day, the small wagon and its two passengers approached the small nomadic encampment which housed the organization known to outsiders only as “The Spirit Hunters”.

[Tigereye]

At a similar moment in time a fairly larger elf was tossing and turning on a small cot in a tent that was equally lacking in size. That was before he wrenched himself up that is, in which case he became intricately entangled in the canvas that had been previously so kind as shelter him from the elements.

Still, it didn’t take him long to unentangle himself, one way or another. Soon enough he sat growling in a pile of shredded cloth, ears twitching vigorously. Wincing into a grimace he tried unsuccessfully to recall where in the bloody daisies he was, failing that he seemed to recall being on fire as his last memory, so a fat lot of good that did. This elf was generally called Stripes in consideration of the tiger stripes he had in his hair and on his limbs and back. He’d found he needed something to be called once he got out into the world, people seemed to become confused otherwise. If it was up to him then he probably would have picked something else, but he didn’t especially care anyways.

When he’d left Gramps to come out into the world he hadn’t expected the place to be quite so frustratingly obtuse.

Glowering at the remains of cloth and canvas, the elfling known as Stripes brushed himself off and went searching for some sort of clue as to what in the world was going on. There were tents all around him, so he supposed he’d ruined somebody’s. Oh well. That was just as much their fault as his. So he wouldn’t be bothered. Every once in a while he heard the laughter of a child or two, it was an interesting sound. One he wasn’t yet terribly familiar with. Growling to himself he started walking down the columns between the tents, nothing was happening so he may as well see what else was going to happen.

It wasn’t too long before the elf came face to a clearing in the labyrinth. There were people milling about, and bustling here and there. And in the very center was a group of three or four warriors with swords, including one very large man who appeared to be their instructor. The elf assumed they were human, but he wasn’t exactly familiar with many different kinds of people. He’d mostly just heard of them from Gramps and then a few encounters since then. Not that it really mattered, long as they left him alone.

Elven yet hair covered ears pricked a little as he watched them. Combat was one of the few things he actual ever got excited about. The instructor was good, the others… not so much. Their instructor had a hearty laugh and was encouraging though, far more so than the Stripes’s own teacher. He wondered if it was possible to become a good warrior if you got pampered like that. The instructor, whom the elf discovered was called Qu’est-ce, definitely seemed capable. So he probably taught well as well. And his laugh was interesting. Everyone seemed to have such completely different laughs.

As he had nothing really else to do, and wandering was boring him already, the elf then just decided to sit down and watch until he found something else to amuse himself with.

He didn’t have to wait long though. Shortly after he settled he heard a cart of some sort rolling in a couple tents over, and decided to investigate.

[Spirit Hunters]

The ride was long and the rickety old wagon seemed almost intentionally to find every gap and chink in the road, causing it to jostle and toss the frail elfling about like a leaf in a storm. She offered no complaint though, much to the driver’s surprise. Although weak in body, the young woman was definitely strong and abundant in spirit.

And that is exactly what the Spirit Hunters, a band of warriors dedicated to tracking down and eliminating evil across the face of Althanas, was looking for.

The wagon, after what seemed like an eternity, arrived at the small nomadic encampment. Much to the elf’s private relief. Almost immediately, Annabel Jumped down from her seat beside the driver and smoothed out her long coat and straightened her hair, smiling politely at her escort.

“You’ll find the main tent over there, past the main camp, beside the lake,” The driver said, returning her smile and handing the fortuneteller a small pack which contained her few modest possessions. “You’ll find the heads of the enclave there. They will judge your abilities, and after that, you will begin your test.”

”My… test?” Annabel asked, cocking her head to the side, not quite understanding. The driver continued to smile, his face impassive and refusing to give the girl any clues about what was to come. He then hopped down from his seat and began to see to the horses, not paying the confused young woman any more heed. Seeing that she would find no further information here, she turned away and began towards the seemingly countless rows of individual tents, set around a small clearing beside a vast lake.

The small grove was well covered, shielded by one of the largest forests in Raiaera that remained untainted by the retreating undead presence. The lake which spanned far north of the small clearing was crystal clear, and shone bright orange in the dawning sun’s light.

The young elf girl passed through the rows of tents which seemed to form a maze of sorts, almost tripping more than once over the crisscrossed support wires of the hundred or so personal dwellings. The girl dodged obstacles and men and women of all races and sizes, some wearing armor, some carrying thick arcane books filled with spells, and some with no distinctive markings at all, save for the one thing they all seemed to have in common. Tattoos. Every man woman and child whom the young elf passed seemed to sport black markings on their faces, each one as individual as the person that it adorned.

After making her way to the midway point of the camp, the tents seemed to let up for a few yards, forming a small island in the sea of dwellings. Here, a few men and women practiced battle techniques and formations, lead by a tall man in battle-worn armor. Off to the side of the group sat a lone figure, seeming to be interested in the practice. His appearance was striking; He looked to be an elf, much taller than Annabel, and sporting fur along the lengths of his ears, and tiger stripes along his hair and arms.

Annabel too, now found herself interested in the display as the well-muscled combatants went through a rigorous drill. They all seemed so strong. So capable.

Everything that she was not.

[Tigereye]

Just as Stripes was bored enough out of his mind that he was actually considering following through with his decision to investigate the wagon, a new stranger approached the clearing. (Sure, fighting interested him. But not only was he only watching others do it, he was watching them do it badly.)

The new arrival was… small. Was it a child? Its ears were pointed; he assumed at least it wasn’t human. Maybe it was another elf, although it didn’t look too much like himself. Gramps had said that he was unique among elves for some reason anyways. And maybe it was like… a small boy or something. Although it was wearing those other garments other than pants… Stripes couldn’t recall what they were called… one of those flowy things that reaches the ground… the frustration that came from his inability to remember the word made his ears twitch, but he’d think of it later. He had a job to do first.

As if inspired by the new arrival, though really it was more an impulsive thought, the striped elven figure strode forward into the ring.

Action halted around him, the practicing soldiers probably didn’t quite know what to make of the strange figure that suddenly materialized in their midst. Their leader, on the other hand, didn’t appear the least bit phased. Instead he greeted the tigrin elf with a cheery smile.

“Hey there, look who’s up. You’ve been out of commission for a while, y’know? What can I do for you?”

The elf folded his arms in thought for a moment and pursed, a bit for exaggerated effect. His ears quivered. He hadn’t actually thought that far ahead into the encounter. The plan had gone: One, march out into the field, and Two, sequester himself a fight. Now that it called for implementation though, it somehow had worked better in his head than it did in practice.

“Um, are you okay?” Qu’est-ce broke in, but the elf ignored him.

With a few more steps Stripes squared himself away with the larger warrior. The soldiers in training seemed to take this for a cue and worked their way to the edge of the ring, which worked just as well for the elf’s purposes. As soon as the area was cleared out a bit more, Stripes attempted to slip inside his unwary opponent’s guard and deliver a kick. If the large man was worth anything at what he did then-

Unexpectedly the elf was forced to spin and catch himself as this opponent that was both larger and heavier than himself managed to easily avoid the blow, with a hearty laugh even.
“Actions speak louder than words, is that it? Come on then. Show me what you got.”

For the next five or six minutes Stripes attempted to do just that, yet through the entire time he didn’t manage to land a single solid blow. What wasn’t dodged was parried, and grapples were easily broken. The elf started to feel excited and grinned, this Qu’est-ce person was even better than he’d assumed, but even so was still on the defensive. Stripes pushed the attack. This time though, he was ready for the block to his punch, and instead turned it into a grab, using the resulting leverage to swing up his hips and level a kick to the back of the larger man’s head, and they both went sprawling.

One would probably not expect the recipient of such a blow to be the one to laugh first, but that’s what Qu’est-ce did.

“Haha, not bad Mr. Silence. Maybe next time I’ll even fight back, when you’ve recovered more. And we don’t have such an audience.”

Stripes’s ears twitched. He didn’t like this business of people who knew more about what was going on with him than he himself did, but he shrugged it off. Glowering briefly at the crowd that developed during their fight, but was already dissipating, he slinked back to his original position and adopted an air of complete indifference. He supposed if nobody told him what was going on soon he may as well ask.

[Spirit Hunters]

Her initial reaction was fear, as the tiger-striped elf made his way into the training ring with purpose in his step. She was not so naive as to believe that everyone in the world was good. On the contrary. If that were true, she wouldn’t be at that very camp. The peculiar elven man’s eyes were unreadable, even to someone as adept at sensing people’s motives as Annabel. That, perhaps, was what made the man so frightening.

The young elfling held her breath for what seemed like hours as the fast paced battle between the two warriors waged, her face painted in shock. But in the following moments, something happened. With a brilliantly executed move, the tiger-elf took the larger man –and that was saying a lot, as the smaller of the two still stood over six-feet tall- down, and the two tumbled down in a heap.

And the large man just laughed. There was no animosity. No hard feelings. Just a battle played out, and the better of the two won. Or so it seemed. Annabel sensed that the human was not putting his heart into the battle, and was perhaps, just measuring the newcomer’s strength. But after a few friendly words, the large man dusted himself off and collected his practice sword. Without further word to the tigrin elf, the warrior walked out of the ring.

And straight towards Annabel!

It was then that the small girl realized that her face was still a mask of awe, and that seemed to amuse the mighty man.

”Hey there little one. Did you enjoy that little display?” The man asked her, looking down to meet her surprised gaze.

“I,I…” She stammered.

“Let’s start simpler. I’m Qu’est-ce. What’s your name?” the warrior asked, smiling that bright, beaming smile. There was no insult to her intelligence. No rudeness or curtness. Just an honest attempt to make the girl feel more comfortable.

And it worked.

“I’m Annabel,” She responded, beginning to feel at ease for the first time since she arrived. She relaxed visibly, the tension melting off of her face returning her soft, angular features to normal. “I’ve come from Eleinwood to join you. Are you, the leader?”

The large man laughed a mighty laugh that sounded more like a mature tree snapping at the trunk. “Heavens no. I’m just a humble soldier. That’s a good one though. I’ll have to tell Froid and Chaud.”

Froid and Chaud… What strange names these people have, the elven girl thought to herself, but dismissed the thought as rude shortly afterwards.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Annabel spoke up after the brief pause. “I’m supposed to be meeting with the heads of the enclave. If you’re not one of them, then I have to be leaving. Thank you for your…” she tried to finish, but the human interrupted her.

“Don’t worry about it. I was heading that way anyways. I’ll show you the way,” Qu’est-ce said, turning around. “Hey, Stripes. Stop sitting there all broody and come for a walk. There’s some people it would do you some good to meet.”

[Tigereye]

The exotically-featured elf looked at the larger man blankly for a moment before shrugging and following after. After all, he needed some information anyways. And so as soon as Qu’est-ce gave some new instruction to his trainees and bid the remnants of the gathered crowd away, the three of them started off down a path in the tents that seemed slightly larger than the others.

The tents along that path definitely seemed more of import than the ones he’d seen previously, and so Stripes -- as people called him-- supposed the ones he’d seen up to now had been mostly residential. The tents along this path were larger, some probably capable of holding several dozens of people at once.

After several yards they seemed to have come to their destination. The tent was by no means small, but nor was it very large. It did, however, have a flag on the two main posts framing the entrance, colored red and blue. Following the lead of his two companions, the elf warrior ducked inside.

There was little around inside the tent, a few chairs off to the side and a large desk in the center was the majority of adornment. Sitting in the desk peering intently at a stack of papers was a slightly withered old man. He had long trailing mustaches that also lead into his sideburns, but not much in the way of a beard, and he still had a full head of long silvered hair. His clothing seemed rather dark and non-descript, but something about him commanded attention anyways. He actually reminded Stripes something of his old master, not that that they had much terribly in common physically, this one actually had hair for instance, but they had similar bearings. And the look of someone who had been quite imposing in their prime, but had shrunken with age. The elf frowned as he noticed himself unconsciously straightening his posture, and forced himself to slouch.

Leaning in over the old man’s shoulder was a younger woman who had something of a similar look about her, but not as wizened and polished. Stripes couldn’t put his finger on exactly what; despite clothing he couldn’t spot any particular feature that was much similar at all.

Eh, whatever worked. Suddenly the two of them together looked up, as if Stripes and the others were expected. The regal old man spoke as he stood and came around the desk:

“Ah. Qu’est-ce, thank you for stopping by. We had some business with you, but I see you brought some guests for us. So if you would wait outside… Ah! I have some papers for you. Take these first.”

Qu’est-ce immediately took the packet and leafed through it.

“Of course, Froid. I can actually run this down to a consul and be back before you finish up.”

“Please.”

As Qu’est-ce left, Stripes found himself facing a quite alien moment of panic. He felt like he was a rat left alone with two large cats, and only a smaller mouse for companionship. With a twitch of his ears he glanced quickly at the other elf before focusing on the old man again. Not that it did him any good; he hadn’t been able to tell a lick about this strange elfling yet. He was getting frustrated, there was absolutely no reason this old man should be able to get under his skin like that, which was probably where his next outburst came from.

“Hoi! Either of you going to actually tell us what’s going on here or do I have to beat it out?”

The old man (his name was Froid?) just leveled Stripes with yet another look that made the elf squirm (it didn’t help that the old man was one of only two people the elf had met before who were taller than himself.) before heading back to his desk and taking a sip from a small tea-cup. He and the women exchanged glances before the old man turned and began studying both of his elven guests. Apparently he reached a decision though, as he then put his cup down and gave his hands a solid clap.

“Right then, if you would take care of that mousy lass over there Chaud, I’d like a word with our outspoken striped friend.” He motioned the woman—Chaud?—over to the side and beckoned Stripes closer. “Come boy, you probably have a lot of questions and I have a lot to explain.”

The oddly featured elf known as Stripes forced himself not to sulk.

[Spirit Hunters]

Her presence was strong, with an aura of wisdom encompassing her, although it was dimmer than that of the wispy haired elder standing beside her. She approached Annabel with practiced grace, her raven hair falling about her shoulders like small black whirlpools. Her demeanor was neither friendly, nor untrustworthy. She eyed the young elven girl standing before her from the tips of her toes, to the top of her head, and after a long, drawn out moment of silence, nodded her approval. The woman was young enough to be the older man’s grand daughter, appearing to be in her late twenties. She had an unearthly radiance about her, and Annabel believed she had the striking woman’s mystery figured out. Although her appearance was human, her ears were not so unlike Annabel’s own. Union between elf and man was not unheard of, and the perceptive elven girl suspected that that was the case here.

“Yes my dear, you are correct. I am Im-Ilif, or half-elven, if you prefer.” Chaud spoke the traditional elven name for a half breed, as if she was looking through Annabel’s eyes. The elfling just stammered, stunned by the woman’s accurate translation of her thoughts. “Surprised? You should not be. I am told I am not the only Diviner in this room. Although my talents lie within the human mind, while I’m told yours are exterior. Somewhat…. Prophetic, yes?”

Annabel was not sure what unnerved her more; the fact that these people seemed to know so much about their candidates before they had even met, or that this woman had read her thoughts like so many words on a page. It was true, that she too could create a link between herself and other people, but she had always done it as a service, and never without permission. This forceful mental intrusion was something she was not used to. She began to doubt her decision about joining them.

“Y-yes, that’s right,” the nervous elf replied, shifting her weight uncomfortably. Chaud smiled then, the first time since the beginning of their encounter.

“Come, let us make ourselves more comfortable,” She said, motioning to a pair of lounge chairs on the other side of the tent with a coffee table between them. “let us leave these gentlemen alone.”

Annabel nodded and followed her obediently, taking a seat, with one last glance at the tigrin elf who seemed so far away now.

“May I offer you a drink?” Chaud asked, presenting an ornate tea cup. A sweet scent wafted into Annabel’s nostrils, and she took it gingerly. The clear liquid inside smelled of citrus and honey.

“Lemon tea? This if my favorite. How did you kn… Oh,” She finished, feeling foolish for asking such a stupid question. Of course she knew. She sipped the sweet liquid and settled into the chair. There was another long moment of silence before Chaud spoke again, still smiling.

”This is the reason we selected you, Annabel.” She said, although Annabel not quite understanding, cocked her head sideways, curiously. “You have great potential. Your powers have been something of a raw material all these years, waiting to be shaped, refined, and tempered. We believe that your time with us will accomplish that, and will be a great asset to the forces of goodness and light. It is not your power that we seek, however, but your sense of morality. There are many great people on Althanas. Warriors and magicians. But power is not what is important to us. Rather, the will to use it for the greater good. Many would view my skills as a powerful skill, but you are right. Invasion and pervasion of the mind are tools of darkness, not light.”

Annabel shook her head, still not quite understanding.

Is this the test they were talking about?

______________________________________

The two spoke for hours, Chaud answering any questions about the Spirit Hunters and herself that Annabel had. The elfling began to grow comfortable, no longer feeling the mental intrusions. Chaud revealed that she was the daughter of Froid, who was one of the founding members of the organization. As Annabel learned more about the Spirit Hunters, she came to realize that her initial fears about the group were gone, and she believed their cause to be just.

Two or three hours, and several more cups of lemon tea later, Qu’est-ce returned, entering the tent, dressed in his armor and his practice sword was replaced by a functional one. He smiled at Annabel, and then looked to Chaud.

“Soon as Froid is finished with Sir Stripes, the consul says its time for them to take their test.”

[Tigereye]

And so the tiger-striped elf found himself slouching in a chair just in front of the large desk that was centered in the tent. He’d been trying to force himself not to sulk, but so far he hadn’t succeeded very copiously. The finely browed old man kept up his level gaze across the desk, even after he’d begun:

“I am called Froid, which you should have figured out if you have half a brain. It’s as much my real name as you will ever know.”

Stripes noted that even the elderly man’s way of speech reminded him of his old master. He waited for the old man – Froid – to speak again. He HAD mentioned something about explaining... sure enough the old man didn’t make the elf wait too long before continuing- sort of:

“Well? Are you going to introduce yourself or am I yammering off into thin air? You got something in that head of yours? What’s your name son?”

“I don’t have a name. People seem to call me Stripes…”

“Ha! Stripes, how original. What are you, a cat? No, don’t answer that. I’ll let you in on something Boy, if people call you it, and you respond, it counts as a name. Otherwise why would thieves have so many aliases?”

Stripes didn’t see what thievery had to do with names, and he let the old man know that he didn’t much care about his babbling.

“Look old man, the only reason I’m here is to find out what in bloody dazes is going on, so if you’re not going to tell me…”

“Hold your pants on Boy. I’m not done with you yet. The reason you’re here is because you both need to be and want to be.”

“Hoi! Now see here, I-”

“If you weren’t here right now you’d likely be dead.”

That stopped the elf in his tracks. That might actually be true… the last thing he remembered was being slightly on fire, but- Froid continued his explanation.

“Actually there’s some chance you would have survived had we not intervened, but it would have been hard on you. You seem to have a magical resistance in place that absorbed some of the damage—I don’t know whether you knew that already or not—but it did make it difficult to heal you,” the old man paused to let that soak in, and perhaps to see if his audience was going to say anything, but the elf was silent. Thus Froid continued, “Right now you are lost in a large world, you both need and want guidance. You also want to do the right thing, whether or not you’ll admit it. Otherwise you wouldn’t have jumped in the way of that fireball.”

Stripes glowered in remembrance. It wasn’t so much a matter of right and wrong, he thought, but that sorcerer had been a bully. And those children would hardly have been able to put up a fight. It wasn’t an even match. Froid interrupted his thoughts,

“What do you think I meant by ‘what’s right’? One of our main goals here is to defend the common people against the supernatural that walks among them. No, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t read your mind… just call it… intuition. That, and while you have an innate sense of justice, you seem to have little experience with it.” The old man paused again to study the young elf sitting in front of him, perhaps to choose his words more carefully. “You have potential boy, and ability. We want you to become one of our warriors. We can offer you both guidance and training in this world of chaos and falsehoods.”

Froid went on to explain in more detail several aspects about the Spirit Hunters, but his young guest didn’t lighten up in reticence much throughout, if anything the elf seemed to sink further into his seat as time went on, and his ears were setting back against his scalp. But Froid could tell he was having an effect, and that the young man was interested at least. And every once in a while the elf known as Stripes would talk for a bit, or ask an odd question. So there was still hope. But at long last the old man decided to call it a day; he hadn’t had much a response beyond a few grunts and flicks of the ear for about half an hour yet.

“Alright then lad, I’ll let you go. Looks like we’re being waited on anyways.”

The tiger elf looked over his shoulder to see Qu’est-ce was back, with an actual sword this time instead of one of those dinky practice ones. And he was standing over by the exit with that other elf he’d left Stripes here with. The striped elf was glad, he’d wanted more information, but he’d gotten a little bit too much. He stopped really paying a whole lot of attention to bits and pieces part way through, mostly just enough to know when to respond. Old people really knew how to yammer on.

Well, whatever works. Stripes exaggerated a groan and the effort it required to stand up and hobble over to the others after sitting so long. The others didn’t seem terribly impressed by his efforts. Oh well.

“So am I allowed to leave now or what?”

Qu’est-ce made a low noise that might have been a laugh, and winked behind the striped elf’s back at Froid and Chaud who were already getting back to whatever business they’d been at before being interrupted.

“Sorry Stripes, one more thing to do first. Although if you really want to leave…”

Stripes just grunted and strode out of the tent.

“Let’s just go.”

[Spirit Hunters]

The two elves followed their guide for several minutes. Annabel walked alongside the large warrior who was whistling a tune to himself, all but ignoring his companions, and young woman had a suspicion that he was not innitiating conversation on purpose.

Most likely not wanting to answer any questions until they had reached their destination, Annabel reasoned.

As the three moved along in relative silence, the elven girl took the time to study the other two in more detail. The man, Qu'est-ce, was not overly attractive, by human standards or elven. Yet he walked with a confident stride that was most likely slowed as to not put himself too much farther ahead of Annabel, who's step was much smaller. His eyes did not shine with intelligence, and judging from past conversations, he did not place much stock in intellectual debate. But deeper, past his words and exterior, the fortune-teller saw a well of private wisdom that only he was privy to, and she felt his eyes pierce deeper than her skin when his gaze periodically landed upon her. His most prevailent trait though, she noted, was an almost unlimited supply of jubilation. The man had not frowned once the entire short time she had known him, even as the tiger-striped elf moped along behind them looking perfectly miserable and lost in thought.

Stripes, as he was called, was almost the opposite of Qu'est-ce, looking about with a frown on his fair face and a degree of suspicion, although physically, he had no trouble matching the long stride of the human. In all honesty, the intuitive girl had absolutely no idea what to make of the enigmatic elf. If that was indeed what he was.

Their short trek had not taken them back into the camp as Annabel had suspected, but rather westward towards and then around the large lake that the spirit hunter encampment had settled near. The entire area was peaceful and serene away from the hustle and bustle of the temporary settlement. Soft waves lapped the shore of the crystal clear waters that shone in the late afternoon sun, and the song of birds rang clearly, meshing well with Qu'est-ce's offhanded whistling. It had been a long time since Annabel had admired the beauty and calm of Raiaera's lush forests. She truely felt at home in that beautiful land, away from the noise and activity of civilization.

Qu'est-ce allowed the young elf to take in her surrounds, smiling at her joy. After a few moments, he cleared his throat bringing her back, and spoke, mostly to the tiger striped elf who he feared might just lose interest and wander off before he had even begun his initiation.

"So..." he began, "I've been instructed to take the two of you out here so you can start your training as a spirit hunter. It's a pretty short process you'll be happy to know. The exam used to be more extensive, but we lost a whole whack of hunters in the last couple years in the war. I guess we're kinda desperate," he added, winking at Stripes, but then straightened his face almost immediately, fearing he may have offended the young man.

"Anyway, just down the shore a ways, you'll find a cave. We'll just call it 'the cave of trials'. Kind of cliche, I know. I forget it's actual name, but there are a few hundred of them here in Raiaera, each one different. We pick our camps near their locations, both to test new recruits, and so us Vets can brush up every once in a while. After all, becoming a Spirit Hunter is easy, but staying one requires work dedication and..." he continued on, his words becoming somewhat more monotonous than his normally casual and carefree manner of speaking.

Annabel giggled and Qu'est-ce looked at her, halting his speech, his face suddenly serious.

"What's so funny?" he asked, somewhat apprehensively, which seemed out of character for the normally jovial man.

"You read that last part right off the paper didn't you?" the young elf girl responded, pointing at the small packet of papers he held in his hands, which he had been trying hard to conceal, glancing at it discreetly from time to time. "Is this your first time doing this?" Annabel asked, genuinely curious.

"W-well," Qu'est stammered, "Yeah, actually. As I said, in the last few years, a lot of our hunters have dissapeared or left our ranks. Including some of the higher ups. Most of the hunters you saw at the camp are trainees like yourselves. We have to work with what we have until our ranks tighten up again."

"Oh," the elven girl replied somewhat solemnly, "I appologize. I did not know."

Qu'est-ce's moment of seriousness passed almost as quickly as it had arrived, and a smile once again found itself on his face.

"Don't worry about it hun. After all, that's the reason both of you are here. And I was pretty much finished anyways. So yeah. I can't tell you too much about the cave itself because, well, that would defeat the purpose of the trial. All I can say, is that the Spirit Hunters work as a team. We're not a band of lone-wolves," He continued, once again looking at Stripes. "You two are going to have to work together, and one's success might depend solely on the other. Work together, and do your best. Any questions? If not, you might wanna head out. It's gonna be dark soon."

[Tigereye]

There was a small moment of silence as the three of them stood in somewhat of a triangle, no one quite certain what to do next anymore. Stripes simply found the entire situation ridiculous, his encounter with Froid wearing off. He twitched his ears and gave Qu'est-ce a deadpan look, "Cave of Trials, huh?"

The swordsman shifted his feet awkwardly, "...well, yeah. It's only a nickname really, as I said..." he trailed off, he wasn't comfortable with the situation anyways and this abrasive elf didn't help any. He seemed harsh or unwholesome, Qu'est-ce had heard the story, but since meeting Stripes he was beginning to doubt how much of it was true... he wasn't even sure why they'd even passed the guy on to this phase of the examination. Not that he was second guessing Froid's decision, but Stripes just seemed to rub everybody wrong and see everything negatively.

In response, Stripes himself just scowled and grunted. He hadn't really been paying attention to his companions during the trek up, it was nice to be back in a semblance of wilderness. . Like as not there would be some ferocious monster lurking inside the upcoming cave of 'trials', a fearsome beast waiting around any corner to pounce and rend. Maybe a vicious trap or two, and in the end they would be 'forced' to trust one another, and so on. Stripes'd heard the stories, that's how they all went. It wasn't an uncommon theme. Still, it might be entertaining. He'd go with it.

Qu'est-ce continued, "...as I said. Ah... just around a bend in the lake, you'll find the cave. The sun is setting, and you can't bring anything with you, so you may want to hurry." He was getting more natural again, and he grinned through his earnestness, "The trial will officially begin when you touch the blue stone, just go to the end and come back out. I'll say it again, work together."

Stripes could tell that last comment was pointed at him, but he just snorted and looked away. His little mousy companion was probably going to mumble her oh-so-meek affirmations and scuttle along like she was told. They could each find their own ways through the cave he figured, and he set off for the entrance on his own without another word, putting his 'companions' out of his mind before they could bog him down. He had to steel himself though. As he approached the cave a feeling began to spark inside him similar to a sensation he felt when he was hit by that fireball some time before, only with less pain and burning. Was that magic of some sort? Maybe it wasn't, but surely he wasn't nervous, anything but that. But as he approached the cliff face he couldn't help but notice all the tons of rock that would be just sitting above his head, waiting for the slightest crack to appear and send it all tumbling down, sealing the exit behind him. Perhaps crushing him beneath mighty boulders as he struggled to even breathe or move and would slowly starve...

He shuddered and carefully inspected the rock wall. The feeling was still there, but he refused to think he had nerves... caution though, caution was a good thing. The cave itself was fairly nondescript. Hardly any sort of "cave of trials" to look at, but it seemed to extend forever into darkness. While Stripes had decent night vision, night vision is something completely different from seing in the total absence of light. Maybe what they were getting from outside would be enough... maybe. The sun was already setting between the two peaks that framed the entrance. The odd runes that were carved around the dark hole weren't encouraging either, in fact he almost turned around and asked what they were for, but he didn't. It unnerved him though; the feeling in his gut was only reinforced as he traced a finger along one of the patterns.

It was odd, as soon as he made a step across the threshold the feeling vanished. Perhaps it had been nerves after all... if he would ever admit it.