Into the System (Open)

Evian gave a grunt as he pulled his arrow free, ripping it from the furred flesh of the thing he had just killed. He sank back onto his heels as he wiped the arrowhead clean of blood, noting absently that the blood was an odd blueish-green hue that looked distinctly unnatural. The man had originally been intending on leaving this being alone - but in the end, hadn't been given a choice.

He had first noticed it almost an hour ago, and he hadn't recognized it then. It was small, only about the size of a human child, but moved around on six limbs. But it wasn't an insect - it had fur and skin that the blue-eyed man could see. It only had one head, thankfully, but as Evian watched it go by, that head had begun to swivel around like it was on a ball pivot. He'd never seen anything that wasn't an owl move its head like that. The creature was unsettling to look at, but since he didn't know it, he was intending to leave it alone.

When he had come across the creature, Evian had actually been up in a tree, resting on a tree branch. He had developed the habit after realizing that this way, he would at least have some warning and time to react if something decided to attack him. The mystery creature was moving along the forest floor, scuttling along on its disjointed limbs, so it was a decent way away from him.

Despite that, the creature almost seemed to realize it was being observed. Its head had begun that unnatural swivel, twisting about, scanning through the wos with bulbous, ichor green eyes. As it looked around, Evian could see that it three eyes, in a line on its face, and it looked like each had two pupils, or something else that made a black pit appear in the middle of those foul orbs. His rumination about its appearance had been cut short when its head almost split in half horizontally, revealing a mouth full of far, far too many teeth and two barbed tongues that began to flick at the air almost like a snake's would.

Then the thing shrieked a sound that grated at Evian's bones. Like metal being ground against metal, the noise ripped through the peaceful forest air. Evian barely noticed the flock of birds that took to the sky when that sound went off, because the thing was charging at him. It seemed to have no concern about anything else in its way, crashing through the brush as it ran at the tree he was in. Evian was a bit dumbfounded, not having done anything at all - he hadn't even moved since he had seen the thing, just looked at it.

Then it had begun to crawl up the tree. Its legs ended in feet that had three claws extending from what looked like pus-filled boils, which it had dug into the bark of the tree to make its way towards Evian. The man had promptly fled, grabbing his gear from where it was hanging before jumping down and running. It had not stopped chasing him though, ripping itself from the tree to pursue him.

It had chased him for almost a mile through the forest, until he'd given up and started fighting it. He'd had to shoot it several times, trying to keep his distance because he didn't want to find out what those claws or teeth would do to him. It had finally died, and even with multiple bleeding wounds and that it stopped moving, Evian had not trusted it and gone near for five minutes, until he was sure it was dead.

"What in all hells are you?" Evian finally asked, staring at the unblinking eyes of the unknown beast. He grunted and grabbed one of the legs, and started plodding towards town, to see if anyone recognized the thing.

She was just an ordinary young woman in an ordinary world. A normal faun, who was a person beyond the legend of her mother, who had a mind, manners and decisions to make on her own. Here she was, ready to take on the world - and succeed!

This is, at least, what she told herself. Celandine Rameses (for sake of her new adventuring she had decided to use her birth father's name as her surname, rather than 'van der Aart' which would surely just attract too much attention) strode into the tavern of the merry town of Stonevale with the determination of a stubborn mule.

So far she had been in one tavern, and it had not been to her liking - too much rough and tumble and not enough good company. Thus, she had sought out a more quiet-side-of-town type of place, rather than the back-street one. Immediately she clocked the wide bar, the good lighting, the open plan space and nodded to herself. Walking quickly over to a corner she settled down and took out her knitting.

There she was, the daughter of Philomel the hero and noble courtesan, making her own way finally in the world. As soon as she began to purl and stitch a merry guitarist began to strike up a folk tune and music soon became the life and soul of the place. Celandine nodded and smiled to herself and began to form a lovely, long scarf.

It quickly came together and she felt relaxed, away from the expectations of her inheritance and her mother's kingdom. Stonevale was a small enough town to hopefully not have too many expectations of a young faun beginning out on her own. Her scarf filled the bench that she sat on as the bard sung on, and the minutes turned into hours.

Not one, not a single person recognized the strange creature that Evian had brought back to town. He ended up leaving the carcass with the small town guard, who were already poking and prodding it. When he'd left there had been talk of contacting a naturalist of some sort from one of the big cities to see if they had any better luck.

But for Evian, that was all out of his hands unless they needed to ask him questions later. For the time being, he had nought much else to do, so he began wandering the town. It wasn't often that he came into Stonevale without some clear-cut goal, and this impromptu downtime was a bit unusual for him.

As he strode along the streets he ran across a small food stall. He picked up a couple skewers of meat and vegetables and started munching on one as he kept walking. Eventually he heard the strumming and singing of a bard and angled his course in that direction. He was trash at music himself, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy music from others.

The crowd around the minstrel wasn't that large, and Evian was able to get close enough to snag a seat, relaxing in the warm sun. He wasn't the only one with a similar idea, as a young girl was nearby and knitting as she listened to the musician too. She looked fairly young, and was probably waiting on a parent to finish errands. Well, he could keep an eye out on her as he pushed thoughts of the unnatural thing far from his mind.

An odd-looking, haggard and dirty stranger came and sat close by to her. He was still munching on some large chunk of meat - chopped up and placed on a long pointy stick. Personally she preferred vegetables, and roasted cheese, but that was not the way one struck up conversation usually. "By the way, I don't eat what you're eating ..."

So she continued to knit, the scarf now decent enough to be as tall as her. Her lips pursed she kept glancing to him, then to the bard, and then back to her creation, the sun streaming in from the large window beside them. They were both caught in the glint of the light, the warmth of the afternoon glory. The bard came to the end of his current tune, ending on a brilliant note. There was a pause before he nodded and stood to bow, and there was a wave of applause.

Celandine knew what to do on this occasion. Her governess had taught her well. Quickly she placed down her knitting to join in with the thunder of hands. As she did however her ball of wool slipped free. It rolled away from her before she could react, freewheeling like a tumbleweed in the wind, and unravelled itself towards the meat-chewing human. With a small gasp she got up and chased after it - but it was too late.

The rainbow wool bumped against his foot. The young woman, looking only just old and mature enough to be in amongst this crowd drew up, eyes wide and utterly appalled.

"Sorry!" She gushed. "Sorry!"

Evian blinked once, jolted from reverie as someone babbled at him rapidly, apologizing for something. It took him a moment to realize it was the young girl who had been knitting earlier, and another, longer moment to figure out that she was apologizing because her skein of yarn had tapped his foot. He honestly had not even noticed, and wouldn't have if she hadn't said anything.

"Easy, easy lass, it's nothing to worry about. If all it took to upset me was some thread nudging my foot, I'd be a sore example of a man." Evian held up one hand and tried to wave it in what he thought was a placating manner. He gulped down the last of his meat and vegetable skewer, then swallowed roughly before coughing once. That last bit had been a tad too large.

He rubbed at his throat before giving the young woman a wan smile. "Right. Afternoon to you, young lady. I'm sorry your yarn's going to be a bit dirty from the floor and my boot." He looked down, and winced. Hopefully the splash of blood on his boot had dried and not transferred to her thread. Evian sat up, tucking his feet back and out of the way. There was something odd about her that he didn't place at first - but as he looked down towards the yarn to help her start rolling it up, he blinked, his eyes widening slightly.

Those legs were not humanoid. Goat legs poked out beneath a short wrap of a skirt, hooves planted on the wood of the floor. This, she, was the first non-human he could remember meeting, and for a moment, old, old prejudices tried to rise up. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the prickle of scar tissue, and shoved those age old sentiments down - he was not going to judge anyone for being a magical race. Instead he smiled up at her as he moved from his seat to start rolling the threads up.

After all he had no idea how easy, or difficult, it was for her to kneel with those kegs. He knew that some animals, like horses, had trouble getting up if they fell but he didn't know how that translated to a faun. Looking closer now he could see a couple other details - like the points of tiny horns peeking out from her cap - but no one else seemed to be paying too much attention to the girl.

"Name's Evian." He offered.

His name. He was giving her his name. Now that was certainly odd. Or was it normal? Did one in polite society give their name immediately when an errant ball of wool came out of nowhere?

Quickly the faun bent on her angled legs and snatched up the rainbow skein. She gave it a quick glare before stuffing it away into the small bag at her side. One knitting needle she slid into her bonnet on her head, pinning it to her bob of hair beneath, and then she stood up again, tall and awkward, giving him a wry smile.

"Hi uh ... Evian," she scurried to wind up the last bits of wool. "Hi. Sorry again."

Were you supposed to give your name back? Well yes, but Celandine was sure her governess Gosling had also focused on the idea of someone, a third party, introducing two people to one another. Not just throwing names around. She had a loss for the expectations here and was rather confused if only for the questions coming to her that didn't quite make sense and weren't exactly coherent.

"Celandine," she answered without anymore hesitation. "I'm um ... A knitter," she grabbed for her scarf as if that answered the secrets of the universe.

Evian tilted his head to one side, studying the small girl. She had seemed hesitant about something as simple as sharing her name, like she wasn't sure if she should. He reached up and scratched one cheek with a finger - did he really give off an untrustworthy air? Ah well. After his fight with the thing in the forest, he did have to admit he was just a tad unkempt. He gave her a grin and pushed on.

"Nice to meet you, miss Celandine. I'm a -" Evian paused, and frowned. What would he call his occupation? He couldn't just say 'I am an abomination made to spite magic users of a specific type' now could he? He rubbed his chin in thought for a moment. He hunted, but that was just to make a little money, not his job. Finally he shrugged and focused his eyes back on the girl with the goat legs, who was clinging onto the rainbow hued scarf she had been making.

"I'm a traveler, for lack of a better answer." It sounded nice, he thought. Traveling, seeing all the things he had never had a chance to before. So far he had been hiding and surviving, scraping by while avoiding people as much as he could. Maybe he actually should start going around, taking in what the world had to offer. Even if it did include fighting more of those ant-like abominations. He knew he could beat them, with time.

He shook his head and refocused on the girl. She was almost fidgeting, and if he had to guess she was nervous. Maybe she wasn't used to being alone? Or, considering his appearance, she was afraid of him? He held up one hand and took a step back, giving her some space. "And again I say, you don't need to apologize. It was just a bit of yarn, nothing to be concerned with." He hummed for a moment.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink, but I think you'd prefer I leave you be. Have a nice day, miss." With a rueful chuckle he gave her a bow. He wasn't attached to this tavern, so if leaving it made this girl more comfortable he didn't have a problem with that. He picked up his trash and started walking for the door, intending on detouring to a bin as he left.

What a strange young man.

He had regarded her with some curiosity - she noticed the way his eyes had travelled to her legs and gone, "wait a second, that is not normal." Indeed, thanks to her mother she had a rather good tolerance for climbing, could run faster than most, could dance well and found it incredibly awkward to sit neatly on a chair. But as all furniture was relatively made universal Celandine had found ways to get around the awkwardness of not having knees like anyone else. Benches with space beneath were the key, where one could have much room to angle your body. And stools. Less need to have the arms of a chair jutting up into random, unwanted space. It depended how one sat, but it had been why Celandine had chosen the bench, so that she could easily spread and remain somewhat ladylike.

Somewhat. Her ettiquette lessons were failing her. Although to be honest most of those lessons were pertaining to situations within courts and exotic cultures. Not public houses within everyday towns. It was as if her entire family and friends expected her to be following closely in her mother's hoofsteps or something.

The young man - Evian - was heading outside. Celandine stared after him a moment then hurriedly stuffed the scarf back into her bag. He was an adventurer, he had said - reportedly Stonevale was 'one of those towns' which was full of these. Hence the many taverns and inns, and the monsters who lurked on the borders. There was a constant goblin threat, there were recognisable townsfolk. It really was 'one of those towns' which stood at the crossroads to many cities and counties and was a reststop or starting place for any would-be hero.

Yet Evian had been the first person to talk to her since she had left the fortress in the forest. At least the first one who didn't have to talk to her - innkeepers and such like. So, he was a lifeline. Or at least, a curiosity. She badly stealthed right in front of the minstrel's stage, sneaking by an open window and underneath the brightest light. As Evian walked out of the door she went over to a wooden post pillar and barely hid behind it.

And then - well there it was. A sudden memory. A dream, or a dream within a dream. It came to her, swift and quick, as the déjà vu set in and she remembered what she had seen in her dreams that previous night. A rare gift she had that meant she could see brief snatches of possible futures. And she had seen this very view -

A scene, obscured by a tall pillar. A bard, playing a dirge, just like the one being struck up. Most of the view obscured by a bright sun, so bright that she had thought this whole scene outside, which was why she hasn't thought ...

And then she remembered the odd part of the vision. The very odd part. For there had been a blank space. An emptiness, a void.

Right where Evian was standing now.

"What?" She gasped, loudly.

The gasp made Evian pause, blinking against the sunlight, and he turned around, looking for the source. It took him a moment to spot the small woman, who was currently half-hidden behind one of the beams of the tavern near the entrance he was about to walk through. It was clear she had been trying to be sneaky, though why that would be he had no clue. What he also didn't understand was why she was currently gaping at him like a fish out of water.

It hadn't been just walking away, no. If that had been the case then she would have said something sooner, closer to when he started moving. And it wasn't the slow, steady beat of music in the background that was coming from the bard playing deeper in the tavern, either. No, the brown-haired - or was that brown furred? - young woman was staring at him, not at anyone else. Raising an eyebrow and feeling mildly self-conscious Evian gave himself a quick once-over. Sure, he was a bit scuffed up from running through the woods, and yes, he had a bit of drying blood on one boot and pant leg, but he didn't think that was anything to be gasping over. Just to be sure, he looked back towards where he had been sitting.

No, no pool of blood there, so he wasn't hurt on his back and unaware of it. Check done, he turned his gaze towards the young lady and cocked his head to one side. "What? I don't have any of your yarn stuck to me, do I?" It was about the only thing he could think of that would have drawn an exclamation from a relative stranger - all they knew of each other was names after all - but he hadn't seen anything like that. And her brightly colored yarn was rather distinctive.

Evian had to step to the side as someone tried to come into the tavern, as he was still standing in the doorway, blocking it. A bemused part of his mind wondered what it looked like to someone else. A man trying to walk away only to be brought to a halt by a gasp from a young woman who was fidgeting and staring at him.

There was something off about her expression, though, something that at the back of his head made him uncomfortable. She was staring at him, yes, but almost seemed to be looking through him, her eyes darting back and forth like she was trying to place a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he frowned slightly.

Usually, when she Dreamcast - when the future came to her in her dreams - Celandine was very clearly able to see a scene. With furniture, and a certain view, the lighting and the features and the people. Usually they were just brief, fleeting visions, not that much interesting and they did not particularly stick in her mind unless they had some significant detail. Sometimes they did not even happen, because fate was subject to the whims of human indecision. And her visions were subject to fate. She remembered her visions only really when she was faced with the scene if they were duller, and had a deja vu feeling when she did remember.

This one, though, this scene had not been particularly important aside from the fact ... Well it hadn't actually had him in it.. Instead there had just been an empty sort of ugliness, like someone had placed a piece of midnight Inn her dream. She had dismissed it really, as something oddly magical, maybe a shadow or two but no - no this was reality. He was the darkness.

Coming up to him, her terrible stealth forgotten and her shyness abandoned, Celandine pulled out the non-pointy end of her knitting needle and promptly poked him in the tummy.

She felt resistance. She felt flesh and clothing and physicality. It was a person, a being, a solid object. She prodded him again, with a gasp now coming from her lips.

"You're weird!" She exclaimed. "You're ... Here but not here." And she grinned as she stepped back. Sure he was unclean and a bit bloody, but he had been polite and a wash would clean him mostly up. "I like weird. Please tell me how it is you didn't appear in my dreams."

Evian felt his other eyebrow raise up to join the first in his hairline as the shorter girl came up to him and started jabbing him in the stomach with the dull end of a knitting needle. Of many possible actions here this was not one he had even contemplated her doing, and he stared down at her with a fair degree of disbelief. She'd been shy, hesitant, poorly attempting to sneak along behind him only to suddenly throw that away.

"Excuse me what are you-" The blue-eyed man felt his face slacken a moment in shock when she spoke. No, no, there were a lot of reasons for people to be in dreams. Dreams were how your mind processed things you didn't even know that you had seen after all. He reached out and poked her forehead between her eyes with his index and middle finger, partially to distract her from watching him too closely.

"I would say you're the weird one here, kid. It's not normal or polite to go around jabbing strangers with knitting needles. Now, as for why I didn't show up in your dreams - this is the first time we've met after all, you can't go having dreams about strange men." His lips quirked as he put one hand against his chest. "Oh, woe unto me, I am not the man of your dreams. You must find another it seems." Even as he joked it off, in the back of his mind Evian was fidgeting.

No way, no way had he run across someone who, indirectly, was the cause of what had been done to him. There was no way his luck was that bad. Or good. He didn't know. This tiny woman certainly didn't seem like some evil mastermind using dark magics to discern the future and control it for her own gain. She was way, way too scatter brained for that.

"You're the weird one, all covered in dirt and blood and coming into a tavern."

Oh she had lost her inhibitions now. Gosling her governess would be so bitterly disappointed as Celandine faced up to this, her first proper meeting and conversation since leaving the fortress. The desire to revert and act like a child came to the young faun, despite the fact that she had been drilled in proper mannerisms and had the sense and head to act mature. Really, right now this man was encouraging her to act her actual age.

So he was real at least. The knitting needle test had confirmed that and he seemed uncertain about what she was talking about when she mentioned dreams. Satisfied that he was not some form of ghost or other scary beastie she nodded to herself and put her needle away. It occurred to her that maybe she should use them as weapons instead of the spears she had left ... In the inn she was staying? She couldn't be sure. She wasn't very good at keeping track of her weapons.

Knitting on the other hand ...

"You're interesting," she concluded. "And weird. You mentioned a drink?"

And indeed she was suddenly excited. After her first failed attempt to properly make an acquaintance she was determined to do this right, and find out why he appeared as a shadow in her dreams. That was so unusual, and so it made him a new, exciting thing to learn about.

And this faun loved to learn.

"Hey now. Coming into a tavern with dust and blood on you isn't weird, it's just a sign of an adventurer or hunter. Or in my case being jumped by some weird furred overgrown ant thing." Evian relaxed slightly as the two continued their back and forth. Now she was acting more and more like a regular person, not skulking about and being awkward as all get out. He watched as she tucked her knitting needles away, inwardly thankful she wasn't going to keep jabbing him with the blasted things.

She had, at least, been kind enough not to use the pointed end, but even so they reminded Evian a bit uncomfortably of other things he'd been stabbed with. Those had been far less kind than a goat-legged girl prodding him out of some kind of curiosity. As she brought back up his offer from earlier, he watched her eyes light up. It was like some kind of switch had been flipped inside of her and now she was eager to talk more with him.

He'd take energetic over reticent and suspicious. Shaking his head slightly at the scene they must have been causing by now, he gestured towards an empty table. "By all means, sure. I try to be a man of my word." Somewhat confident she'd follow at this point, the dark haired man walked over to the table and set his things down, tucking the weapons under the table so they weren't in anyone else's way. That done, he spun a chair around and sat down on it, folding his arms onto the back as he leaned forward. It was early, so when the waitress came by he'd probably not go with anything too strong - and maybe find out if they had food. He was still a bit hungry.

His companion, though - as a goat human, did she eat like goats? Ruminates? Or was her diet more like a normal human's? He found himself oddly curious about it. Cleverly she was close enough to have drinks, unless she meant plain water?

He was ... Sitting backwards.

It threw her off, completely off. She had never seen someone use a chair like that, literally turn it around to the opposite direction it was designed for and sit on it in a way that had to be uncomfortable. Had to be. Normal humanoids didn't have legs like that - of course she was an exception, but honestly, it was just - it looked awkward. It confused and confounded her and she just stared at the man, or boy, who had at first disgusted her, then intrigued her, and now bemused her.

She looked down at her own legs, with their funny bendy knees and fur and muscles and hooves and made a face before clopping over to the table he had chosen. The bard was back on the stage, and that was very nice because he was pretty good. His fingers expertly curated a melody out of spare notes left over from his earlier recital that satisfied her spirit.

Celandine found a chair and sort of crashed into it with a huff. "Why backwards?" She asked. She might as well be straightforward. She had already thrown away all cordiality on the staring at him and poking him with the knitting needle.

"You're sitting backwards," she frowned. "It's odd. You are weird. All dirty and okay you're an adventurer you say, which this place is full of apparently, but ... No," she shook her head firmly, pointing at him in the air, sans needle now. "You're weird. And I've met a lot of weirdos. My mum likes to collect them."

An elf seemed to appear suddenly at their table with a tray and a pinny. In a soft voice she asked if they wanted anything to eat and Celandine paused before she gave an order for some chips and roasted vegetables.

"No meat," she turned up her nose. "Though this weirdo likes to eat meat. Barbarian."

"Faaaairly certain it's pretty normal to eat meat." Evian blinked once and turned his attention to the waitress. "I'll take a light ale and, what do you have available that you'd suggest?" The woman hummed in moment, her eyes flicking between the two before settling back on Evian.

"We do have a nice mince pie, the cook just finished a batch. About this big." She held her hands up to indicate a size a little larger than a tea cup.

"I'll take two of those, then. And water and I think, a light mead for the miss." The woman gave a polite bow and headed back to turn in their order and get their drinks. The sweet honey drink would probably suit Celadine better than a more bitter or strong brew would. Evian focused his gaze back on the young girl now, his eyes narrowing as he studied her for a moment. Finally he let his line of sight drop to his arms, which were still folded on the back of the chair, and he shrugged.

"I've always been a bit more flexible. And I like having my arms up here rather than down low, at the moment." He shrugged. "I wouldn't say it's that weird, but I don't know. Can tell you grew up a bit more prim and proper." He chuckled and shook his head. "And if you recall, I said I was a traveler first and foremost. Meaning most of my time is spent on the road or in the wilds." Evian paused as the elf returned with their drinks, setting the mugs down in front of them.

"Only reason I'm in town now is that I got attacked by some weird creature and I wanted to let the guard know." He shrugged again as he took a drink. The alcohol burned slightly as it slid down his throat, and Evian closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. The girl was dressed a bit plainly, but up close he could see that her clothes were of higher quality than most villagers would be able to afford. He wondered if he should say something, but decided against it for now. Wasn't his concern if a high society girl wanted to see what life was like. Huh. He blinked, blue eyes flitting around to see if anyone was watching her bodyguard style. He didn't see anyone, and it didn't look like anyone was paying them much attention.

But then his eye caught something. Someone who had disappeared to order a drink at the bar for a moment, and was now back from behind the large tree-trunk pillar-like beam. A strong-jawed elf lady, with dark hair cropped short and dressed in leather armour that allowed for movement but provided also some protection. Her build was muscled and clearly belonged to someone who had had warrior training, and a set of short axes were strapped to her back and torso in a bandolier. Over this garb was swung a cloak of homespun wool, so overall she looked like an average adventurer, except maybe better equipped more than the next.

It was her gaze though that Evian noticed. She kept scanning the room, as if taking in the measure of the patrons, and then coming back to Celandine. Her body was turned towards them, and she seemed ready, eager to bounce into combat should the need arise. With her drink she looked like she was trying to play the part of just another traveller, but really there was something about the way she stood, didn't talk to anyone, didn't make eye contact and tried to seem inconspicuous to the point of being conspicuous that it was obvious.

Celandine seemed oblivious. She was frowning at what Evian had said and was looking down at her clothing, her hands, her legs. It didn't seem like she was denying her well-to-do background, but certainly she was wondering about the obviousness of it.

"I'm not that fancy. Or at least I don't want to be." Furiously she dug into her back and pulled out the half finished scarf. She began to knit, finishing it off. "I'll make myself something more boring then. What about me is ... Prim and proper? Am I too clean? Please don't say I have to go rolling in mud too?"

She made a disgusted face.

"You're too dirty. Maybe you need a bath. Or maybe I need to ... Hmm." She thought for a second, pausing in her knitting. "Should I make a jumper then?"

Now that was a bit..odd. Evian kept part of his attention on Celandine as she babbled on - not really listening, but nodding along as she spoke. The majority of his focus was on the out-of-place woman at the bar. His gaze was on Celandine, though, to not give away who he was actually watching.

"No, no. You don't need to knit a jumper or roll in mud." He leaned forward, and from the corner of his eye he saw the elf tense up, her jaw tightening. He returned to sitting with his arms folded, and the woman relaxed slightly - though he saw that one hand was now hovering near the haft of a small axe on her chest.

Hm. I'd say a bodyguard, but the girl doesn't seem to be aware of her. The dark haired man drummed the fingers of one hand on the back of his seat, thinking. He turned his head towards the door, looking at it, then glanced at Celandine with one eye. "You should probably buy some clothes from the local mart, for one. Yours are a good imitation, but made from too fine a thread. Though really only noticeable up close. The other thing, though?" He leaned closer again, his eyes narrowing as the elf let her empty hand drift closer to a weapon. He wasn't exactly the biggest fan of authority these days. Sure, he wanted to warn the guard of a bizarre creature - but that was to protect normal, weaker people. Farmers, civilians.

Someone like this? A hidden watcher, to keep a rein on an innocent, naive girl? It set his temper to rising, and made him definitely want to spite the woman. Made worse by the fact that her immediate reaction was to choose violence - probably because she thought she would face no repercussions for attacking someone, even in broad daylight. It was a 'noble' attitude, one certain in its superiority to everyone around them. And it pissed. him. off. It was the kind of arrogance that had let his father get away with things, since no one would question his actions.

So if Evian was right, and the goat-woman didn't know about her watcher there? He would happily help give the slip. He turned his focus almost entirely to Celandine, keeping just enough on the elf to react if she attacked. "This is the big one. Ditch the bodyguard for someone less obvious." His voice was low, low enough that the elf wouldn't hear his words. He was helped by a somewhat drunk patron staggering into the elf, and trying to flirt with her.

Bodyguard. Bodyguard?

"Bodyguard?!" she said with perhaps too much volume, costly alarmed. Quickly her eyes began to scan the room, taking in the various patrons. They passed over the elf once, then stopped at her when they scanned it again. Celandine's eyes widened, her lips parted and she looked back at Evian with utter irritation.

"Mother! Can't even let me ... Ugh," she growled, shoving her knitting back into her bag. The elf warrior seemed to acknowledge the irritation and was frozen stiff, between wondering if she should just come over now that she possibly had been found out, or if she should pretend to none be the wiser. The young faun seemed to not be bothered by the choice facing the elf, for her main emotion was anger right now.

"My fucking mother," she spat, suddenly very unbecoming of a lady. But she didn't care. She was absolutely raging. "She said she would let me do this alone - ugh!"

Quickly, she stood, and looked right at Evian. Speaking under her breath she neared him. "I need clothes huh, to blend in? Let's go get them. Are you good at losing people too, because I darn well could do with losing this tail."

She hadn't come this far to be anyone princess. She had come this far to begin life for herself, and there was no way her infamous and famous mother was disrupting that.

It took a concerted effort of will for Evian not to slap his palm against his forehead in exasperation with the girl suddenly shouted out, drawing everyone's attention. It wasn't just the elf woman - several people in the bar were suddenly looking at the goat-woman with appraising eyes. The fastest way to need a bodyguard was to draw attention to the fact that you were someone who needed one, it seemed. Both Celandine and the elf would have been better off with more anonymity. The girl at least had the excuse that she was naive and young, and she was trying to learn. The elf, on the other hand, was arrogant.

Evian sighed and dropped coins on the table to cover the bill, even for the food they wouldn't get a chance to eat. It wasn't the tavern's fault they were leaving after all. He did look a bit longingly towards the kitchen, where he knew the mince pies were, then shook his head before standing up, rising above the petite goat woman. "Alright, alright. Let's shake the dust from our boots here, then. C'mon." Long, strong fingers curled around one of Celandine's wrists, and with that the two were off, Evian pulling his shorter companion along with him.

From the corner of his eye he saw the erstwhile bodyguard jolt in shock, before dropping her drink to the floor with a clatter. She didn't even seem to notice, instead taking off towards the two, her pace picking up as she realized fully what was happening. But she wouldn't catch up in time to stop them going through the door - Evian pushed Celandine out first then stepped up behind her, slamming the door shut behind him. He could head footbeats racing at the door, and he looked down at the tiny woman next to him. Evian gave her a wink before closing his eyes, concentrating briefly.

The elf woman clearly expected she would be able to burst through the door after them, lowering her shoulder to ram into it. Her belief was wrong, though. When she hit the door, lines of strain popped up on Evian's face for a moment - but the door held, a resounding thump coming through it to their ears. The man waited a moment, then cracked the door open, to see the elf woman laying in a jumbled heap on the other side. Already other patrons were coming over to offer help.

"Well now. She'll be right as rain soon enough. Time to make tracks, miss." With a nudge to her shoulder, Evian walked past Celandine, long legs carrying him towards the marketplace.

A giggle left her mouth as she saw a glimpse of the crumpled mess that was her bodyguard. Though she was still angry Celandine could not help but feel amused at the victory. Eagerly she nodded at her newfound comrade and ran to catch up with him as he strode away.

"Thank you," she garbled messily, as if she had never been taught any etiquette. "I only - thank you." Quickly, her hooves tapped on the cobbles, and she glanced behind her to assess the situation that they had left. There was no one as yet following them, and she hoped that none would. Who the elf axewoman was she wasn't sure, but there was no doubt it was a lady of her mother's.

"Let's go ..." She hummed as she veered and went off down a dark alley, running before he could protest. Sticking out her tongue she used a basic knowledge of geography and town planning and figured out the next sharp turns and access to the direction she assumed he had been heading. At the end of the alleyway she began to climb a ladder, not even sure if he was coming.

It took her only a few rungs of climbing to find she had made a mistake. A large set of eight eyes glared down at her from a window, clicking it's strange mandibles. She swallowed and she froze, having not had bargained to meet a spider on the way.

Evian blinked once as Celandine rushed off, hoofed feet rapping sharply against the stone of the streets and alleys. For about half a moment he considered letting her rush off alone, but that thought was discarded almost as soon as it crossed his mind. He didn’t have it in him to let someone possibly get hurt when he could do something about it - and with as naive and innocent as this girl seemed to be, he was absolutely certain that someone would take advantage of her if they found her. Her idea of blending in better was to make a jumper… With a shake of his head, Evian took off after the girl, his boots much quieter than her hooves as the leather soles beat upon the ground.

He turned a corner in time to see the girl start climbing up a ladder, only to freeze suddenly, her eyes locked onto something a few inches from her face. His brow furrowed as he peered at the spider, which was clinging to the outside of a window, on the other side of the rungs of the ladder. The thing was fairly large - not nearly as large as the abomination he’d murked in the forest, but still almost as big as a normal dinner plate. For a sheltered girl who had clearly not often left wherever she called home, he wasn’t surprised that she was startled by its sudden appearance.

“And this is one of the many reasons we don’t just run into dark alleys, little miss.” He drawled out as he slowly, cautiously approached. He couldn’t see enough to tell if this particular spider was venomous, but he wasn’t keen to find out by it biting Celandine and hurting her. “I’d suggest very carefully backing back down, you might be near that thing’s nest.” Even as he said that though, he was picking up a large piece of masonry that had fallen from one of the walls near them. It wouldn’t be as easy as shooting with his bow, but if he had to chuck the rock at the spider, he’d be able to hit it easily enough. The muscles in his arm tensed up as he readied himself - if it attacked, he’d have to hit it before it bit Cel. He didn’t happen to have antidotes on hand.

"Bonus visus aranea," she whispered. "'A spider with most excellent eyesight, that can see in perfect darkness at lengths of up to five miles. While one pair of eyes keeps watch for danger the others will follow its prey carefully until the perfect time comes to pounce.'"

She swallowed, and nibbled her lip. The words came from her like an exact recital of a log in an encyclopedia, and her chest rose and fell as she slowly leant back and then weirdly moved left, then right. Her head tilted, but then she smiled as she saw the slider's eyes follow her perfectly, while indeed the outer two kept an eye on the surroundings.

"How interesting," she whispered, although her actual street smarts were altogether lacking. Instead her enquiring, hungry mind was taking over her protective instincts. A deep thirst for knowledge, for experiences outside of her sheltered life were making her tread closely to danger. Quietly, she laughed, despite the threatening clicking coming from the mandibles of the arachnid, and leant even further back, rocking even further as she experimented more.

"Oh it really does follow!" She watched its entire head now turn. "How interesting! I never ... Eek!" Suddenly she was scrambling down. The spider had launched, for after all she was the prey. Jumping down the last few rungs of the ladder she ran over to Evian as the turnip-sized lump scuttled down behind her, screeching loudly. She tugged out a useless dagger, and flailed it behind her as she hurried, shrieking with a mixture of excitement and fear.

Alright, Evian had not expected that the reason Celandine was frozen up staring at the spider was because she was actually fascinated by the skittering thing. Frightened by it maybe, or disgusted by its appearance. But not enraptured by the way it was watching her. He paused, his hand stilling, as she started to sway back and forth, almost like a small child playing with a pet dog.

Blue eyes saw it a moment too late, the warning not escaping from his lips in time. But what did move quickly enough was his arm, slinging the stone forward as fast as he could as the spider lunged for Celandine's face. Rock hit carapace, knocking it to the side, giving the girl the time she needed to get off the ladder and run towards him. That was when the screeching started, the spider's mandibles flaring wide as it released an unearthly wail that felt like it was dragging nails against his soul. Evian could see a crack in its form now, ichor leaking slowly from the wound.

For a creature like a spider - such an injury wouldn't heal. Fury drove the insect forward, trying to take its prey with it into death. Unfortunately for that desire, Celandine had made it to Evian, who hadn't been watching idly. His spear swung out, batting the insect back. The man stepped fully between the arachnid and the girl, his eyes narrowing at it. Multi-faceted eyes locked onto purple-tinged blue, and the spider screeched again. It had detected him before, but the allure of its prey had been strong enough that it ignore him, until now. And now, well, it was too late.

Seven legs pulled the skittering lump forward, another injured when Evian had knocked it back. It had high bursts of speed, but he was faster. His arms tensed up, coiling - the spider launched itself forward, mandibles spreading wide to bite him - iron met mandible, then carapace.

Iron won.

For a moment the alleyway was silent, then Evian swung his spear in a short arc, dislodging the carcass from his blade. The body landed in a crumpled heap against one wall as Evian turned around to face Celandine. The spider had been an ambush predator, and in a straight fight - well. Cel probably would have been able to run away from it.

"You OK, there?

As the spider slumped to the ground she nodded, her breath quick, her eyes huge. Rarely was it that she had seen such fighting and skill. There had been very few times in her life when experience had put her in mortal danger, and those could be counted on one hand. There had been a time with a medusa-gorgon, who had turned her to stone, and there had been a time when she had been kidnapped as part of some sick child-slavery gang. That latter time had been when she had lived in the brothel with Ennis and Etna, however, and Celandine had gone out of her way to head into the more unusual part of town, deliberately to see if her 'true mother' whom she had dreamt was a foreign princess, could be found there.

"How exciting!" She shivered behind her dagger, eyes fixated on the deceased spider, now slumped, his legs curled inwards and shell broken. She still had her knife uselessly held out before her, and though she had some skill herself with the technique in practise she hardly had ever actually been in a battle. Let alone see someone kill such a thing in front of her.

Quickly, remembering the fact he had asked her a question, she nodded. "Yes. Indeed. Thank you." She tucked her dagger away to its place on her belt, sucking in a lungful of fresh air to still her quivering heart. "Thank you! That was ... Wow."

She took a moment and beamed at him. "Come, I wan to uy you something to say thank you. Maybe a nice hat, or some soap?" She gestured back down the alleyway. "It seems though my tail has gone already, lost us." She paused, furrowing her brow, "Not my literal tail. That would be weird."

"Shall we go to this marketplace?"

Evian stared at the smaller girl for a long moment, then shook his head slowly. This one was going to be trouble, he was now absolutely sure. Maybe her having a bodyguard was actually a brilliant idea, and not solely because of whoever her parents were. No, it was to keep her safe from herself, he realized. She was young, innocent and sheltered, and even now, with a creature that had just attacked her lying dead only a few feet away -

"Right." He spun his spear around and thumped the butt on the ground before relaxing slightly. "Come on then, follow me to the market. We can buy clothes, or whatever, there. And this time, kid, no charging off into dark alleys." Evian shook his head again, then turned and started walking back out of the alleyway.

He would make sure to stay with her long enough for her 'tail but not her literal tail' to find her again. He didn't really want the girl to get hurt, but as it was he didn't have the time to look after her. Still - right now, Celandine was a bright spot of levity in his life, and Evian had been missing amusement for a while. So he wasn't going to begrudge the girl her apparent decision to buy him so-

The dark haired man finally processed that quip. His purple-tinged eyes shot towards the bright and bubbly girl. "Are you saying I stink, little miss? I'm not sure if I resent, or resemble that remark." He was, he had to admit, a bit covered in gore and grime - the dust from the city streets was clinging to the dried blood and the drying ichor that was on his pant legs and the arms of his tunic. At least none of it was his.

Did she say that? No she didn't, but she knew the art of conversation and she had certainly implied it. He was grubby, and had some remains of the beastie on his clothes and face. It was not pleasant to look at, nor was it very nice to smell. But keeping a smile on her face she said nothing to reply to his comment and instead turned to follow him to the marketplace.

It took little time to get there, and the streets opened up to a large courtyard with a diverse set of stalls. A row of trees made a border on one side, and it gave some coverage to the normal township folk who met and talked on their way to work, shopping or home. A few stalls, mostly of local merchants, was set up under bright canopies with the basics present: a dairy, a butchers, a bakery and a haberdashery. There was a fabric stall, draped in roughspun homeweave and behind it, nestled into a low building was a shop of clothing itself.

"There?" Celandine suggested, pointing to the stall. Certainly it seemed the right sort of thing. She glanced from his clothes to the ones there and nodded.

He would likely need a change too. So therefore she took his hand and started towards the stall proudly, grinning as she used surprising strength to pull the unwitting new friend behind her. Whether Evian liked it or not he was both exciting and intriguing to her, as one whom she couldn't properly dream of, but who had wisdom she did not. For certain she was sure she wanted to keep him around for a while longer.

Oh, she was. She absolutely was. It had been a long time since Evian had had to talk with someone who used dissembling speech and methods, but it wasn’t something he was entirely unfamiliar with. That smug little half-smile as she dragged him along spoke just as much as if she’d said the words aloud. But as he’d said, it wasn’t as if he could exactly disagree with being called disheveled. So instead it was with a slight shake of his head that Evian let himself get dragged along by the tiny woman, as she pulled him along towards the stall she’d selected.

It was as upper scale as a little clothing stall in a market could get. It was better quality than most would get - but not completely outside of the range of what normal citizens could get. Sure, you’d see it more on well off merchants or farmers, but at the same time - if someone saved up for a week or two, they’d be able to get themselves a nice set of clothes. More in line with everyday attire than what Celandine was actually wearing right now. It was subtle, but her current clothes were just better quality than one would normally be able to get.

“Ah, afternoon to ye lad and lass! What can I get for you today?” The clothier was an older woman, plump and rosy-cheeked, who had a bright smile light up her face when she looked up from a register of some sort to see the goat-girl dragging along the taller man. She set the thin book to the side and stood up, dusting off her skirt as she beamed at the duo. “We’ve got some clothes on display, but I’m sure we have something that might be more to your tastes if what’s out doesn’t suit you.” Evian’s eyes flicked around, taking in the fact that there were several sealed cases behind the clothier. That made sense - clothes weren’t a rarity, but finer quality attire was more difficult to make. So keeping them closed up would make it harder for anyone with sticky fingers to just make off with one or two pieces of small clothes.

“Well, I just need a new set of trousers and a decent tunic. Not sure what the little lady’s looking for.” Evian spoke up, gently disengaging his wrist from Celandine’s firm grasp. The clothier looked between the two, her eyes flicking downwards, then back up. He supposed seeing a goat-human hybrid wasn’t exactly common - he certainly had never met one before Celandine. Though he was a self-imposed outcast, and had fled from Salvar, which wasn’t itself the most welcoming of places to magic.

What was she looking for? She didn't know, she thought he was supposed to know.

Confused and also interested though of the array of clothes on display and hidden, Celandine watched as the keeper of the stall began to sort through piles to find what Evian needed in his size. There was not a mighty surplus of clothing to try, but there was enough basic colours and forms to suit every wardrobe. Pulling out a pair of mustard yellow leggings the keeper held them up to the air as if comparing them to Evian.

"Not yellow. He needs dark colours because of the dirt," Celandine stepped forwards and shifted more fabric out of the way to point at some dark green wool. Then she mused over a black tunic and a loose cotton shirt.

"I'm paying," she told her new friend without looking at him, picking up a pair of gloves and frowning at their study fur. "In case you didn't know. Are these baby?"

"Calfhide, yes," the woman keeper nodded.

"Eek." The young faun placed them hurriedly back down. "Just the shirt and these scarves please, and whatever he wants," she nodded at Evian.

Baby animal hide? To make gloves? It was truly appalling, and so she hoped that this sale would not take long at that they could move away. For she now had her eye on the next stall along and a certain bar of lavender soap that she could smell from here. It was lucious and would clean him well.

Right. That particular tidbit should have been obvious to Evian - with how much the tiny goat-woman had been chiding him about eating meat, of course she'd have a problem with leather products. Though even he had to admit that leaving the fur on the gloves was in poor taste - or bad craftsmanship, since from what he knew that should have been removed during the tanning process. Evian sighed slightly and shook his head, turning his attention to the clothier.

"She'll prefer cotton clothes, or possibly wool or hemp." He might have suggested silk, but while he could see one or two pieces of clothing made from that, silk would have the opposite effect from what they intended. "Also, a wide brimmed hat." The woman hummed, her eyes darting between the odd duo, and Evian gave a simple shrug. "As for me, yes. A tunic and trousers, in earthen hues. Not a fan of bright colors honestly."

Also, he lived primarily in the woods. Vibrant tones would stand out just a little bit. The woman nodded, and set about collecting some clothes to fill their order. As the proprietess bustled about, Evian noticed that Celandine seemed to be almost itching to get away - not from the store, though he could see a clear dislike - but towards something else with the way her eyes kept darting in a specific direction. She barely noticed when the rosy-cheeked woman mentioned their total.

If she maintained that kind of focus and disdain - well. She would probably need to learn to hide it a bit better. People who didn't eat or use animals in their professions or daily lives were exceedingly rare. And most likely well off, because going hunting for small game was cheap. Free, even, if you knew how to make basic gear from foraged and gathered supplies. A wood and flint arrow wasn't much, but it would down a grouse just the same. Easier to provide for yourself and your family too. Evian knew he himself wouldn't be able to live on that kind of lifestyle - but he also did literally live in a camp in the woods.

"Ah ha!" She declared, holding aloft her prize find. Coming back to the startled Evian she held out her gift to him. When he did not take it at once she pressed it into his hand, and grinned as he realised she had bought him some soap.

That and she had paid for all the clothes, plus more. He now had a very fine set of normal cotton clothes plus some fancier ones. There were benefits to her mother being who she was, and that was money. Celandine would never suffer for a loss, and would always have the support and resources to live a more than mediocre life. That was not to say she did not want to live in luxury all her days, but most definitely she would have some comforts.

"Thank you for assisting me to get rid of my shadow, Mr Evian," she said kindly, returning somewhat to her more formal ways. She eagerly patted the satchel bag at her side, now holding plenty of knitting and her new clothes. "May I ask where you are staying or what you are doing? I need to ... Maybe travel further than here. I should perhaps go very far away."

She pondered for a moment, trying to think where next her adventures could take her - a place very far away. Somewhere in the distance, to the ends of the earth, that was very different to everything she knew.

"Salvar!" She gasped, grinning as if she was a genius. "That's it. I'll go to Salvar."

"No." Evian put every bit of emphasis onto the word that he could as he turned and placed one hand on Celandine's shoulder, making sure that she was facing him. He looked down at Celandine, taking a deep breath. "Celandine. I won't say you cannot do something because in the end it is your life to live, not mine. But, please, heed this advice. Salvar is a dangerous place, a cold, inhospitable land full of cold, hard people." He searched for words to describe what he knew, what he feared might happen.

"The religion of the land despises magic. Not just a specific magic, but magic in general. And I don't mean it makes them uncomfortable - most will be openly hostile to someone who has magic, and that's the normal populace. Actual clergy tend to strike first and not bother with questions. I can't say I know how they'd react to you," he took a moment to sweep one hand in a gesture along her body, head to toe, "as a non-human. But that's because in the entire time I was in Salvar, I never saw one. Now some of that might be because I lived in a quiet town, but even so." Evian paused, and took a deep breath before shaking his head.

"If you do feel compelled to go to that atrocious place, do your best to be careful. I don't know if you'll be in danger, but I don't think you'll be entirely safe." The brown haired man realized his muscles were tense, and forced himself to relax. He shook his head and stepped away, looking down at the pale purplish bar of soap that the girl had given him. A weak chuckle escaped him.

"As for where I live?" His lips quirked into a wry smile. "Out in the woods. It's peaceful." It was also private, and could be difficult. The weird thing he had fought was just one thing. More mundane creatures had found him more than once, including a bear that had been quite insistent on chasing him. Definitely not a life suited to the child in front of him. Evian tucked the soap into the bag the clothier had handed him of his new clothes.

Salvar was dangerous for the likes of her? Celandine almost laughed.

"The world is full of elves, dwarves and humans. One more faun won't hurt. Besides," she stuck out her tongue at him, patting away her purchases, "I'm half human thank you."

Turning her head she pointed to her rounded ears, completely unable to wiggle them unlike her mother. And her horns were barely horns at all - just small little nubs that would be the shame of her homeland. Mostly she hid them under the fuzz of her hair, not wishing to make anything of them. After all they were nothing to her mother's huge curling ram horns.

She straightened and set her hands on the strap of her bag. "No, I am decided. I am mature enough and ... Well mature enough is good enough for me. I will go to Salvar. You are welcome to come, if you like."

She smiled. "A travelling companion might be nice. It can't be too dangerous there, surely."

Thread Title: Into the System

Judgment Type: Basic Rewards with Stonevale bonuses.


Reytac receives:

2076 EXP
260 GP


Celandine receives:

2285 EXP
312 GP


Rewards Added