[Memory] Carry On or Carrion pt II

[Thomas]

Continued from Carry On or Carrion

His traveling companion seemed to come alive when she saw what he'd been using as a map. Her enthusiasm washed over him and made him smile in turn. It was rare to see someone so taken by something, so unguarded. It made him feel at ease. This person was not a threat. Were she better off, perhaps she could be a mark, but the quality of her possessions indicated to him that this was not someone with much in the way of coin to spare. An artisan, then, and a traveling one, at that. Not a threat, not a customer, and not a mark. Which left few categories in Thomas' personal taxonomy, all of them benign and most even positive.

He took the proffered water skin and had to school himself not to suck it down. He was well-used to taking care with food, but he had not grown up in a place where water was so scarce as this, and his thirst clawed at his throat as he sipped the water delicately. Still, he knew better thanks to one of his erstwhile traveling companions. Water sickness was a real threat in dry environments, and if you threw up your water from drinking too fast, you ended up thirstier than before and with less water than you started. So he sipped it and watch her work.

Thomas didn't know too much about art, but he had been in proximity to fine things off and on for much of his life, and he had a decent appreciation of aesthetics. Velx's maps weren't fine art, exactly, but there was an artistry to them. He could imagine them framed and behind a desk, certainly, or spread across a large table while suitably important looking men wearing military uniforms pored over them. Also, it was satisfying to watch her work, and he was happy to supply the details she asked for as her clever hands translated his half-recalled approximations into something that a future traveler could make use of. He'd grown disused to being useful, but it wasn't a bad feeling.

"I would be most grateful for your help, Doña. I have nothing more than this map to guide me, and I'm more used to poking through estate sales and tinker's wares than I am in venturing into caves like this."

The thought that he could venture all this way only to entirely miss where the treasure was buried had not occurred to him. He'd been so preoccupied by the thought of being murdered by bandits or the harsh climate that the thought of failing to find what he sought had not gotten a chance to lodge in his head, but now it was there. He'd been a fool to go alone, and was all the more grateful that it was pointed out to him via a chance encounter with a helpful stranger who seemed more interested in the physical landscape than in the prize he was after.

[Velx]

As he supplied the information she wondered about, she’d keep switching between a scribe and an overzealous investigator. Still surprised about how quickly he pried open on the information he held, she wasted no time in writing the minutia down, no matter how insignificant. It mattered little whether his approximations were correct or not, she’d have to backtrack along his route later. Having a good idea of what she’d be facing there could speed up the process.

He seemed to take up her proposal and was open to the idea of them searching for the supposed treasure together. Her interest was piqued, but wealth mattered little to her. On the other hand, if this building was sufficiently old, perhaps it could be at least partially what Valanox had looked for in the area. When she came back with information beyond her actual scope of work, perhaps he’d open himself up more. Kyrikain knew she was hungry to know more, yet constantly rebuked.

“I don’t think we should travel through the night” she looked back to Horse, losing complete sight of Isidro. She had used the animal nocturnally in the past, but never with great success. Her brother was a much better rider, and he’d surely be able to keep its footing steady even through the darker hours. With no way to perceive the night, save for her own sound and the animal equally blind, it was better to delay until the wee hours at least. Once the sky started going lighter and rusting over would be a better time.

The fact that they hadn’t met any of the advertised dangers yet made her skin crawl at the thought. The law of average existed for a reason. The Badlands were very dangerous on average. Every positive turn of events only worried her further about their fortunes potentially rebalancing in the future. Still holding back on her power, she wouldn’t summon forth help even at this instance. In Daravin her talents made her more instead of less as it was in many places. It would still be foolish to show her capabilities prematurely. There would be a time. When it came, surprise would be her friend.

“We need to secure the camp for the evening somehow” she looked at the man. “You’ve heard me approaching, but there are many things here which aren’t as heavy footed” unsure what would’ve been the best way to organize, she wanted his input. Had she been alone, she’d have called in a sentry and called it a night.

[Thomas]

"I've been traveling from dawn to mid-day and then from late afternoon to dusk," he replied. "In a desert, you shouldn't be moving during the hottest part of the day, and wandering around in the dark is a great way to get ambushed by local wildlife, or worse." He tried not to linger on the worse.

"What I'd recommend is that we break camp and move ourselves to the lee of those dunes. We can use the wagon and the dunes themselves to make the walls of a lean-to. It will be chilly, since it's a cold camp, but it will be safer. My animals need a rub down -- perhaps yours does, too -- and then I plan to give them some hot mash and a blanket to stay warm through the night. We can take turns on watch. I'm happy to take first watch or second -- it's up to you. I'm also happy to let you sleep in the wagon, if you'd like to be somewhere a bit more protected from the elements."

In a normal wagon, this would perhaps be cause for concern, but if she revealed herself to be a thief, she'd quickly discover that anything of any real value was locked up quite securely, or simple concealed in some ingenious compartment to the point where it was impossible to really get to anything beyond a few changes of clothes, some apothecary supplies, and sundry goods that he planned to sell when he got out of this dreary desert and back to the relative civilization of Lorien. If she accepted the offer and had any sense, she'd just use her allotted three hours and change on sleeping.

Provided that Velx agrees with this proposal, Thomas would stand up from the fire, divide up the remainder of the stew between the two of them, clean the cook pot with sand and a rag, extinguish the fire, and set about breaking down his camp.

[Velx]

His words made sense. She’d nod along, and try gathering up her own things to match his pace. She took the leftover stew gratefully, moving it aside in order to keep the packing speed. The more he spoke, the less threatening she found him. All of his ideas had been reasonable, if overly cautious ones. Velx didn’t see much of a difference between being leeward next to a rock or a dune. There was reason for them to avoid fire late into the evening, but was it truly significant enough to justify the freezing hours of the evening?

As he took his time breaking up the camp, she devoted hers to two things – using sand t slowly dry out the excess ink off her papers, as well as pushing additional sand over what had once been their hearth. Covering the scorch marks under additional layers of sand seemed to be too cautious a step, but if they were already in said mood, might as well commit. If animals took their blankets, then moving into the wagon did seem a good idea. She would voice no protest, but believed she should take the second shift. If any problems arose, he’d be firmly tucked in and sound asleep. That would give her more discretion in calling in assistance.

“It would be best if I took the second shift” she expressed, still unsure about the entire idea of a rubdown. Horse surely needed upkeep, like all things. Yet, she had never done so before – assuming that it’d just rest when she rested. Perhaps this was a learning opportunity of sorts. A bit ashamed to ask, given the age disparity between them, she figured she’d get the information she needed by watching the young one’s performance.

As he packed, her own things were dried, wrapped and bundled to Horse. All that was left was covering the tracks of their passing when they started moving. She wasn’t a tracker by trade, but she’d been found enough times to at least alleviate the most obvious signs of their presence.

“If you take Horse” she’d point to her animal “I can blend our tracks a bit” offering him the reigns.

[Thomas]

Despite himself, he grinned at the reveal that her mount was simply called Horse. It was straight and to the point. His animals were a motley crew of two, Stubborn the Mule and a brown mare whose owners had insisted she should be bound for the glue factory. She'd perked up after being on the road, though, so he wondered if perhaps she was just bored. Anyhow, Stubborn and Mabel got along like two peas in a pod, and they were dear friends to him, even if he couldn't ride them worth a damn.

He nodded at Velx's request. He was happy to take care of the animals. Once his wagon was in place, he unhitched Subborn and Mabel, and clicked his tongue until Horse came over to join the other animals. He put Horse on a long, loose lead tied to the wagon like the other two, then set to work getting Horse accustomed to him, offering his hand up for sniffs and a small bit of dried sweet grass as an inducement. Once Horse lipped it off of his hand with no issue, he unstrapped the saddle and other assorted riding gear, then retrieved his brush. Horse had clearly been through the most of the three animals, so he rubbed him down first, starting with the areas of the animal that had been sweating under the saddle. Horse seemed to enjoy it, leaning into the touch and making little noises of appreciation. He gave Horse a bit of extra attention until Mabel and Stubborn's doleful glances at him impelled him to work on them in turn, but they did not receive ministrations as thorough as Velx's mount.

Once done, he put a blanket over each animal and provided them with the warm mash he'd had stewing in a small pot in the embers of their campfire. In truth, there wasn't much to give, but the animals seemed appreciative and that made his heart feel a bit lighter. He knew they weren't people, but he liked caring for them nonetheless.

Once finished, he nodded at Velx. "Happy to take first, as you've stated your preference for second."

He went into the wagon and pulled the pallet out of its compartment that was slotted in to the floor. With the bed out, there was little space in the interior, but he was well-used to it. The walls felt cozy, not confining, and it was nice to have someone watching him for a change. He took off his outer layers, but kept his boots and interior layers on so that he wouldn't have to rush to get dressed in the case of an emergency -- he could just throw on his coat and handle whatever the Badlands threw at them. Or attempt to handle it, at least. He spent a few minutes thinking about all the horrifying scenarios of the Badlands he'd been trying to avoid thinking about all day, before yawning repeatedly in an attempt to banish them from his mind. In a compromise with himself, he willed to keep it to a light sleep, in case there were suspicion noises of any kind. He drifted off within five to ten minutes.

[Velx]

As Isidro took the animals further out, she’d pull some of her own linen down into the sand. Dragging it backwards to where he imagined their next camp to be. She would flounder it softly side to side, making it more like a big slithering creature had passed. The trails of the wagon weren’t that firmly stuck to the shifting ground, so she was quickly satisfied with her work. Portioned, she inched further in his direction. Constantly going backwards and in a slouch had slowed down her process significantly, but the quality was there. She could always look for comfort when her turn came for resting.

The young man was already mid tending to her animal by the time she was satisfied with what was left behind them. It was unclear how Horse was so calm around the stranger, but she would accept it. Isidro truly did feel non-threatening for the most part. She tried to remember what he’d been doing. Horse seemed to enjoy it, so perhaps she could do the same for the animal next time they were exhausted on the side of the road. She did notice that he was considerably less devoted to his own animals than he was to hers, but didn’t think much of it. She’d known numerous people who would treat other people’s lives and property better than their own.

While he was talking about how he’d take the first shift, he neatly packed himself into a sleeping position. Within moments he was off to fend with Kyrikain, and it left her frustrated. Hadn’t they agreed a moment ago that he would have the first watch and then she’d take over? Was she now speaking Common? Letting the minimal flicker of anger wash over her, she’d accept her lot. She pulled one of her blankets around herself in preparation for the cold of the evening, making sure to keep the dune behind her in hopes of the wind passing them by. The thought of being ungentle when she woke him up helped a smirk rise up her cheek.

It was difficult to measure time accurately in the desert, especially at night. With this in mind, she believed at least half her allotted time had passed and there weren’t any major changes. Just as she was slowly dulling her attention, she caught a faint disturbance in the distance. It sounded like discomfort and struggling machines, and while it wasn’t immediately obvious to her, the melody multiplied before it died.

Not resisting the urge, she would come to realize that while she hid their more recent tracks, she never did anything for the earlier ones. That oversight could be bringing something to their door at this moment. Should someone be watching, she did her best to appear unalarmed, and used a handless yawn to violently echo through the surrounding lands. By the time unsuppressed sound ended, waves of feedback were already washing back through her. Multiple contours of bipedal constructs which were clearly not there before. Her mind couldn’t immediately transcribe the detail, but she was certain there were at least six of them, accompanied by what seemed to be elongated, two-wheeled contraptions. She could probably reapply the echo to see if they were drawing closer, but decided she’d rather be uncertain and have the extra ether at her disposal.

The way to the wagon was a short one, but she still shuddered at the thought of turning her back to what she knew were strangers. Against her earlier wishes, she’d silently step to the wagon and try to be gentle in waking him up. Self-preservation would still take precedence and she’d extend herself to make sure her hand was resting over the arm he used to move the gun off his lap earlier. Trying to be covert could buy them time, but she wasn’t getting shot over it. Once in position, she’d try to nudge him awake, unsure how soundly he slept.

“Isidro, they are watching us” she whispered softly while she kept the slow nudging. “There are six of them, I believe. Maybe more. They don’t have horses, but they do have something two-wheeled along with them” she explained further.

She wasn’t sure what to do. Violence was always an option, but violence and discretion seldom mixed well.

[Thomas]

Thomas was awake the instant Velx stepped into the wagon. Years of sleeping in it alone on the road meant that the slightest change in air pressure or light washed over his senses, and the alarming presence of a stranger in the wagon signaled him to wake up and lie still. He listened to her warning, feigning being awakened by her without overdoing it. He let himself yawn and stretch.

"They are watching us, then," he said quietly. "They don't need horses, out here -- they use very fast wheeled contraptions, like wagons, but faster. Even if the animals were hitched to the wagon and we had lead time on them to get a head start, they are built for the desert in a way that my wagon is not. They will catch up, quickly."

If they weren't attacking yet, though, that could mean a few things. He tried to think it through. He let himself ponder the thought that they were just innocents wandering through, or that they were too scared of him and his cartographic associate to approach. Neither of these possibilities passed muster, so he didn't even utter them aloud. His bond with Velx was tenuous, and spouting off at the mouth could strain it.

"I think," he said, speaking slowly and quietly as he chose his words with care, "that either they are getting in position to attack us, or they are waiting for us to put ourselves in a vulnerable position that they will then take advantage of. Perhaps both. It could be that I'm wrong, but I think our assumption has to be that an ambush is in the cards for us, imminently, and that our good luck has run out."

His nostrils flared as he allowed himself a bit of petulance. Not for the first time, he wished he had more of a martial skillset. He detested fighting his way out of situations, but his hand was forced often enough that being able to shoot a gun did not always feel like it was enough. So saying, he stood and quietly dressed in his outerwear so that he was ready to fully engage with the enemy should they move in. He retrieved his gun from the recess he put it in while asleep in his wagon, and pulled out a few bottles of perfume he'd been meaning to sell as a miracle cure the next time he was in a part of Radenor that still believed in the concept that good odors promoted good health.

He fed strips of cloth into the top of each bottle. Their camp was cold and it would take him a moment or two to get a flame source reliable enough to use to light the makeshift fuse, but few assailants being doused in glass and burning oil.

"Do you think they'll attack tonight, or wait?" He wasn't sure if his companion would know either, but since she was the one reporting the danger, he hoped that she would have some sense of what it would be best to do next.

[Velx]

Isidro had the tact to awaken gracefully and forgo losing his composure. She was near the point of panic, but couldn’t quite bring herself over the edge with him providing a counterweight. She observed his phony routines and nodded at the words. If he truly knew that much about them and the place they haunted, why did he come out here alone? The thought cradled inside slowly and she felt what was left of her calm washing back into a more acute awareness. Disregarding him as a non-threat might have been overeager on her end. No sane man would have come out here with that knowledge without a contingency.

“Humans and Norai do not see that far in the dark unaided” she’d express from experience. “We may have bigger concerns” she wondered if it was possible to blink others if it became necessary. As horror washed over her, she finally accounted for the possibility of there being mages among them. If they were to be attacked without terrain or numbers advantage, she could do her best to compensate in power. What if there was no power gap to speak of? What if they too had practitioners up there?

“I fear we may not see the morning before they move” darkness was their cover, and every moment they delayed only increased the probability of losing said advantage. As light would rise in the sky, the onlookers would find it difficult to actually hide from the two of them. If she was the hunter here, she would strike swiftly, in the manner of young and thirsty Dranoch. Perhaps even as the prey a preemptive attack could help them navigate the desert without having to look over their shoulders. That would have meant revealing to Isidro she was less than exactly helpless and it would paint her a threat. It wouldn’t be wise to seem dangerous.

“Can you fight, Isidro?” she kept her back turned to what she knew was there.

[Thomas]

Can you fight?

"Not as well as I'd like," he replied.

In truth, words were often his weapon and his shield. Words crafted ways out of situations, bought time, provided allies. There were limits to words, though, and perhaps his great flaw was believing so many of the words he heard when so many of his in turn were insincere. How many times had he received promises of payment that never came, of friends and lovers who swore they would be with him for eternity only to depart? That he did the same was cold comfort.

There was no point in negotiating with their would-be ambushers, though. It would just put him in a more vulnerable position and give away that they knew they were being watched. A definitive preemptive strike would likely be the better move.

He nodded to himself in the dark and grabbed a covered lantern and the tinder and flint kept at its side. The light provided was dim with the cover fully down. Barely more than a candle stub on a cold night, but it was illumination enough to check that his gun was properly loaded and that the sections of cloth were properly soaked in the perfume oil and ready to be lit and thrown. He was ready as he was going to be.

"I can shoot well enough if I can see them and they are not impossibly far, and I have a few improvised weapons that will make life unpleasant for them if they are foolish enough to stray close, though. I may trade for a living instead of fight, but fights find me often enough that I'm not helpless. What about you? I assume you are able to do more than draw maps, yes?"

[Velx]

His attitude encouraged her. The will to fight was definitely there, and there was none of the bravado of Norai who kept dying too young. He would likely be useful in the upcoming confrontation. She watched his preparation quietly, appreciating the care he took in not producing too much light. Velx could feel perfume of all things enveloping their space. The time for the masquerade had passed, and it was a moment for teeth to flash in a bite rather than a smile.

Her own preparation was done in slowly getting herself separated from things which would rattle at the speeds she planned for. The kit was moved away. The additional wraps were tightened, lest she break her bones in blink, fabric caught onto an overlooked ledge. She abandoned the bow, but reached for several arrows to hold in her fist. At this moment it felt silly she had ever bothered with ranged weaponry given how she was ranged weaponry herself – but the arrow had always felt familiar and correct.

With the extra layers being dropped from her form, she lost the blanket as well. The chill seeped in quickly and she welcomed it, perhaps it could offset some of the blink, but unlikely. Finally, she would refocus on her would be companion. More than maps indeed.

“I didn’t want you to be afraid of me” she shakily said, cold rattling her teeth same as she was about to enact upon her enemies. She resigned herself to what felt an inevitable outcome. “Still, it is better than dying in our sleep” she cracked her knuckles in the manner her brother always hated and was ready.

“I believe I can help close the distance between us, but I am unsure if your body or my legs can take it” she nudged her head higher than her right shoulder. “No more than two hundred yards. Behind the bend” she wasn’t sure if he saw the bend, but it was there, she felt it.