[Realms #407] Eastward Ho!
"Thank you for sharing," Ixin said, readily. "Your honesty goes some way toward earning our trust." Karak harrumphed at that and eyes turned to regard his taciturn face.
"Do you want to talk about your chalak?" Shamalin encouraged and Karak's scowl deepened.
"No, I do not," he said flatly and got to his feet. "An' we've a long day ahead of us tomorrow, I reckon. Ye lot would do well to get ye some sleep while ye may." He started to step away from the fire and then half-turned to add, "I'll take first watch."
Silence hung over the campsite for a few moments, broken only by the crackle of their fire and the sound of wind in the treetops. At last Ixin got to her feet and picked up her scimitars. "I'll keep him company," she said. "If that's alright with you, Huzair." The wizard scoffed.
"You don't need me to translate for you anymore," he told her. "And besides I'd like to find out what skills the new girl brings to our little group. I'll sit watch with her." Ixin nodded and stepped into the shadows after Karak.
"Ayremac looks in no shape to stand guard," Morier said, the derisive tone in his voice completely lost on the drink-addled holy warrior. He turned to Shamalin. "So I guess that leaves you and me to take third watch?"
"That seems fine with me," the cleric said with a nod. "Are we sure of our path tomorrow or do I need to pray for some divinatory miracles?"
"Yeah, whitey," Huzair asked. "Where is your pull taking us?" Morier didn't hesitate to answer, but pointed confidently to his left.
"East," he said. "With the first Pull gone, this one is much more intense. There's no question." Anania looked confused, her almond eyes narrowing skeptically.
"Pull?" she asked. "What is that?" Huzair grinned broadly at her.
"We've got a lot to talk about while we get acquainted," he told her.
Ixin caught up with Karak about twenty paces from the fire. The dwarf stood in the shadow of a tree, his back to the camp and his axe held easily in his hands. He gave no acknowledgment of Ixin as she approached.
"You were certainly quiet tonight, my friend," the sorcerer said as she stepped up to stand beside him. "That's not like you." The dwarf harrumphed.
"I have my reasons," he grumbled and Ixin nodded. She had been hoping he would say more but after a few expectant moments it became obvious that that was not to be the case.
"Perhaps you like to speak your mind but not your history?" Ixin offered and the dwarf sighed turning to face her.
"Nothin' again' ye, lass, but I'll speak on't when the time be right," Karak said. "An' the time be nae right this eve. Now let it lie." Ixin stepped back and nodded again.
"As you wish," she said, coldly and drew her scimitars. "I'll start walking a perimeter."
And saying thus she stepped away, leaving Karak to his thoughts.
The evening passed uneventfully for the Order and in the morning, Anania disappeared into the forest to secure them something fresh for the morning meal. Huzair studied his spellbook while Ixin tended to their fire and Ayremac tended to his head. The holy warrior enjoyed a significant resistance to poisons, but that evidently didn't extend to self-induced poisonings from magic cups. Morier and Shamalin took some time to squeeze in a bit more sword practice.
Karak sat off to the side, watching Morier spin and twirl his two-handed blade as another might a maiden girl around a may pole. He really was quite a warrior with that sword, Karak begrudgingly realized. He was quick on his feet and fought with the correct style for a lightly-armored fighter with a two- handed weapon, darting and spinning to advantage. What the poor lass did not seem to realize, however, was that she wore full plate, and that meant a different style of fighting was needed.
Like the good pupil Karak realized she was, Shamalin was mirroring Morier footwork with ever-increasing skill. But she was tiring quickly as a result, expending all her energy just to move about in full plate armor. She thought it was from her inexperience with fighting and part of it may well have been, but not the majority. She had no idea that if she were to exchange armor with Morier then he would move just a clumsily as a pregnant rothé and probably more clumsily than she.
He watched them and mused on that until Shamalin conceded that she'd had enough. The two combatants parted company with Morier heading over to help Anania with the spitting of the conies she'd caught and Shamalin sitting down on a log, panting. Karak approached her and she looked up at him, sweat plastering her strawberry-blonde hair across her eyes. She brushed locks away and smiled up at him.
"Hello, Karak," she said between gulps of air.
"Shamalin. Pardon me interruptin'," Karak said with an apologetic nod. "There be a problem with ye learnin' the ways of the sword from Morier .He be a fine swordsman, but what you do nae realize is, he be wearin' hardly any armor. You, lass, be clad in full plate. You can nae do all the hoppin' and jumpin' and sidesteppin' around like he can. Think on that and you'll tire less so." Then he nodded and ambled away toward the fire and smell of cooking meat.
"Giving my pupil a few pointers?" Morier asked good-naturedly. And Karak sputtered with embarrassment.
"Nae, lad," the dwarf said. "She sought you for trainin', nae me. I was just offerin' a word or two of advice." Morier shrugged.
"Don't worry, Karak," the eldritch warrior explained. "I think it's a good idea for us all to share knowledge. We've all got different skills and we'll make a better team if we strive to complement each other."
"Aye, lad," Karak nodded.
Ayremac got up then and came to the fireside. He'd looked better, but the greenish pallor had left his face and he seemed ready to confront the day.
"Karak, listen, I need to learn to fight, here," the holy warrior said. "Show me something I can do with Windblade!!"
"Okay, lad. You be wantin' to know how to fight? That's good. We've a few minutes before breakfast be ready. Come with me," he said and headed back over to the impromptu fighting circle that Morier and Shamalin had made at the edge of camp.
Karak had yet to strap on his armor and as he walked, he stripped off his tunic, baring his torso above the wide leather girdle he wore. Muscles bulged and snapped beneath his shaggy hide as he worked his shoulders to loosen them in their sockets. He stretched and it was clear that for all his bulk, the dwarf was limber as well as strong. He turned to face Ayremac and grinned, seeing that Ixin had followed them as well. Shamalin watched from the sidelines, still gathering her spent strength.
"Well at first, I kept me nose outta it," Karak said as he grabbed his knee and brought his leg to his chest. "I mean there are many, many different fightin' styles. Not all are good, mind ye, but they are out there. And who am I to say nae to 'em?" He looked over at Shamalin and gave her a wink. "But there be only one fightin' style that can make ya handle yourself in all manner of situations, and that's how dwarves be trained. It's not pretty, it's not flowery, and it certainly is nae fancy, But it works. So he we go. Here is the first lesson: stand still."
He walked toward Ayremac, his waraxe shouldered. Stooping to pick up a branch Karak drew a square around the Officer five feet on a side. As he drew he repeated, "Stand still. That be it. Pick yer footing and stick to it. A fighter who picks an' stands his ground will remain on his feet." He looked over at Ixin and Shamalin. "Ye ken me?"
Everyone nodded.
"Good. Now this is your area, lad," Karak explained, tapping the area within the square he'd just drawn. "The trick be to nae move outta this area. Too many fighters leap an' jump around, and in my opinion that just messes them up in the end." He glanced toward the fire where Morier sat, but the albino hadn't heard his comment. Satisfied, the dwarf threw his stick aside and gripped his waraxe with two hands.
"Go ahead, lad. I'm in my "square" now. Try to hit me," he challenged. Ayremac hesitated, but the dwarf was having none of it. "Go on. Go on. You know I can take a punch. Watch my feet and try to hit me."
Ayremac swung, and very nearly connected with Karak's side, but the dwarf twisted away from the attack. His feet, never moved, however.
"See!" Karak beamed and Ixin stepped toward Ayremac's square from the side.
"May I have a try?" she asked eagerly.
The training was eventually cut short by the call for breakfast and when that was done, they set out eastward. Morier indicated the direction and Anania blazed the trail. She was extremely fleet of foot, moving easily amongst the boles of the ancient evergreens quicker than any of the Order would have been able to move along a straight road. Throughout the day, they would catch up to her and find that she'd taken the time to scrounge up some roots, nuts, or berries from the environment while she waited for them. Her fresh foods supplemented their diet of dried rations at their lunch break.
It was mid-afternoon when they caught up to her again and Morier scoffed, "We're not going east any longer." The elf maiden nodded.
"True," she said unapologetically. "Due east leads directly to World's Edge Gorge, a fissure in the earth that runs some twenty miles north to south. It marks the extreme eastern edge of my people's influence; beyond it the forest thins and the men of Erlacor rule. The gorge is said to be so deep that sunlight never touches the bottom. We can try to cross by some means unknown to me or we can deviate from our course for half a day to cross at an old bridge that spans the gorge a bit to the south. The choice is yours."
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
