[center] [h1][b][u]Carn[/u][/b][/h1] & [h1][b][u]Aurielle[/u][/b][/h1] [/center] [hr] As the four crested the hill, the village of Evenstar came into view. “Oh thank Tekret,” Ruvar breathed exhaustedly. The sun was low on the horizon. They had been travelling for hours, and even though they had long since broken out from the forest, the journey had been hard on the soft merchant nonetheless. The wounded guard, who had eventually introduced himself as Rollo, was winded as well. Carn and Arika, for their part, had been wary. Without the forest, they had only the hills for cover. And while hills offered a great view, anyone could see if you were standing atop one. Fortunately, the bandits had been preoccupied with looting the village, and there seemed to be no others in the area. They had been able to reach the village with little incident. And now, the four hurried on, eager for the refuge the small community provided. [hr] Another day, another stinking place to call home for the night. Auriëlle knew absolutely nothing about the village of Evenstar except that it existed and that it laid at the end of the mud road she was following. That was generally enough. Most places were alike to her. Except as she crested the hill that looked over the village, she noticed that there was a suspicious amount of desolation there. More than usual. Looting became common in the southern region, or so she thought. She didn’t care. Auriëlle hadn’t cared about much in the last three years. She just drifted from place to place, doing odd jobs. There were always people willing to pay for a little magic. It was all meaningless though. It was all just survival. The first year she made the mistake of staying too long. People were happy to see water move or the small arcs of lighting in between her fingers. But when the fires danced to her hands, most wanted her out. She understood, though she wished she could go somewhere where she could use those big flames without being forced to march in armies. From the hill she made her way to the village. Most ignored her. She was dressed like a mercenary, yet lacked any obvious weapon. Save for her copper knife on her hip. Save for a watchful guard who stood at the village’s fringes and eyed her warily as she passed, her arrival went unnoticed. She would soon discover why, for a sizeable crowd had gathered on the other side of the small settlement. That caught her attention. Crowds could be fun, unless they were happy crowds for marriages. Though generally, when a crowd formed it was more often for a fight. She began to push through the crowd without apologies. They weren’t chanting or screaming and there was no commotion coming from the center though. This wasn’t a fight. She looked at their faces and saw a slight hint of awe. Was some Ketrefian princeling marching into town? She was curious now. Finally she reached the edge of the crowd and saw who they had gathered around. What she saw was considerably less impressive than what she had imagined. An out-of-breath merchant, a wounded man who wore the battered mismatched armour of a mercenary, and two more mercenaries who were in considerably better condition. One was a woman, while the other was a strange-yet-handsome looking man with fine white hair in bright purple eyes. Both the woman and the wounded man looked to the merchant for guidance, as if expecting him to take charge, but he was too winded to speak. So instead, the white-haired man stepped forward. “Stop gawking and bring us someone who can treat his wound!” he waved a hand to indicate the wounded man. For the first time in far too long, she smelled something else than a gods forsaken village. For one, the merchant looked far too plump and far too nice to do much fighting on his own. Especially considering he had his three fairly well armed friends. Which meant he had money to pay them. Yet here they were, winded, dirty and without much else. She smelled excitement. So she stepped out of the crowd. “Not a healer.” She immediately announced. Someone else would take care of that. Then she turned specifically to the white-haired big guy with the strange eyes. A grin formed on her lips. This day was getting better and better. “You’re Carn.” She was stating it as a fact. Mostly in the hope that they could skip some of the pleasantries and show him that she knew who he was and what he did. “What happened to him?” She asked as she pointed at the wounded merchant. Carn’s eyebrows rose when she recognized him, but he did not let that distract him from the business at hand. “Bandits,” he answered, waving back the way they came. “They attacked our cart. One of our own turned on us and another two were killed.” Meanwhile, someone in the crowd had peeled away, heading for the village shrine. Six guards in total? This far south? There was a fair chance the load was gold. Which meant the merchant was more loaded than she first thought. That was good. She turned to the winded trader and asked: “How much if I help you retrieve your cart?”. Bandits were dangerous, even for her. Yet it had been a year now since last her heart beat with excitement. Surely with the locally famous Carn everything would be okay. A skeptical look crossed Carn’s face, as if she was wondering what help she could be with just a knife. But the merchant spoke next, having recovered his breath. “I’ll pay you well,” he said. “The cart was loaded with-” The wounded guard punched him in the shoulder, and both men let out pained grunts. “We can discuss payment later,” Carn told her. “For now, we have a wounded man who needs treatment, and the rest of us need to sit down. Now move aside!” That last part was directed toward the crowd as a whole, rather than Aurielle specifically. The crowd swiftly parted, just as two older-looking men arrived. One was dressed in the threadbare robes of a priest, who stared at Carn with a certain sense of awe, while the other wielded a staff and had the finer robes of a chieftain. “And what’s going on here?” the chieftain asked in an authoritative tone. Carn frowned, as once more he was required to offer an explanation. “Bandits,” he said rather bluntly. “We have a wounded man and he needs treatment.” “Mind your manners, boy, you’re speaking to a chieftain,” the leader of the village sneered. Then, he tapped the priest on the shoulder, and pointed to the wounded guard. “Tend to him.” The priest nodded and hurriedly stepped over to the wounded man’s side. Placing a hand on his good shoulder, the priest began guiding him toward the village shrine. The priest kept glancing back at Carn during the walk. Meanwhile, the chieftain addressed the rest of the crowd. “Go back to your lives. There’s nothing to see here.” And with those words, the bulk of the crowd parted, as the chieftain turned back toward his hall. Auriëlle kept her eyes on the priest. There were few people she distrusted as much as a priest. She ignored the chieftain’s call to disperse and turned to Carn while his comrade was helped towards the local shrine. “We should find an inn to stay at.” She said. Then she got closer to Carn. “Why was that priest looking at you the whole time?” She asked, as she followed him towards wherever he would go. Carn shrugged. “How should I know? People are always looking at me. Either due to my rugged good looks, or my strange hair,” his expression shifted to a smirk. He was considerably more relaxed, now that the wounded man was being treated and he was receiving something close to hospitality. “You’re not [i]that[/I] good looking.” Auriëlle said. It was a lie, but she wasn’t about to admit that he was one of the better looking men she had met so far. Though she didn’t forget the priest watching them. They were always up to something. Spinning stories, telling you what you should and shouldn’t do. Maybe she would pay him a visit later tonight. She wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. “I’m Auriëlle.” She said, to introduce herself. Carn, Aurielle, and the female mercenary who went by the name of Arika sat down at a table at the village inn. The merchant, Ruvar, had decided to accompany the priest to the shrine in order to ensure Rollo was alright. “So,” Carn said, after Aurielle had ordered a drink, looking around the room to make sure nobody was listening in. “You’re interested in helping us get that wagon back?” “It’s suicide,” Arika interjected. “There were at least a dozen of them. Probably more. We won’t stand a chance.” Auriëlle clearly did not share Arika’s concern. She just grinned ear to ear. A dozen, a proper challenge. She even fell back in her chair and took a big swig of her watered wine as she tried to stifle a laugh. “A dozen? Maybe more? Perfect. The more there are, the more fun it will be.” There was a fire in her eyes now. No, there would be no sleep tonight. Then she turned to Carn and leaned in to make sure only those at the table would hear it: “Yes, I’m very interested.” “I hope you brought more than just that knife, then,” Arika muttered. Auriëlle hovered her hand over her own tankard and slowly raised it. Droplets of water, suspended in the air, lifted out of it. Not too high, just high enough to show those at the table. Then she dropped them in the wine again. “I can do a lot more but I don’t trust this place. I wouldn’t be surprised if one poor sap was already running to your bandits telling them a redhead joined the survivors.” And she most certainly didn’t want to give away that she was a sorceress. Then she turned back to Carn. “So tell me what happened. I need to know in what sort of place we’ll find this scum.” She sounded almost thrilled. “A rather pretty redhead at that,” Carn had whispered, much to Arika’s annoyance. Then he got to business. “They ambushed us on the south road, as we were passing through the woods. They cut down a tree to serve as a roadblock, but we saw through it. Unfortunately, one of our own turned on us, and even without that, the bandits still outnumbered us.” “You were here before we were,” Arika pointed out. “Have you heard anything about these bandits?” “No.” Auriëlle answered. She sunk back into her chair, this time without laughter. She needed to think. “So what’s the plan?” She asked them, though she was mostly looking at Carn. “First, we need a few more people.” Carn decided. “Even if Rollo recovers, the four us will be hard-pressed to do this alone. There’s at least a dozen of them, and they all have bows… if I could get in the midst of them, I’d cut most of them down, but I suspect they would fill me with arrows before that.” More people meant more people with whom she’d have to split her share. Auriëlle wasn’t that thrilled about the idea of sharing that much. Still, he had a point. Four against twelve in unfamiliar terrain. It might be a bit too risky. “I think if you took a tour in this place, you could round up maybe eight or seven men. Especially with your reputation.” Then she turned to Arika. “So are you like, his woman?” The question made Carn chuckle. Arika narrowed her eyes. “No!” she blurted out angrily, causing more than a few heads to turn. “I met him two days ago!” Auriëlle sat back in her chair and raised her arms as if she was surrendering. “Was just asking.” She said. “So what’s your story? With the white hair and the…eyes?” She then asked Carn. “And if you tell me it came from a god, I will slap you.” Carn shrugged. “Slap me then, because that’s what I was told since the day I was born.” She actually did reach over, though she didn’t wind up her arm. Instead Auriëlle just gently tapped his cheek and sat back down. “You don’t actually believe that, do you? The gods aren’t watching us. They don’t care.” Not when things like Iskrill exist. It was impossible to deny their existence but she had doubted their intentions a lot in the past years. “If they did, wouldn’t you think your divine parent would’ve protected you and your friends from that ambush?” Carn’s languid expression darkened. “The only ‘parents’ I know died, when some crazed warriors attacked my village. My father always claimed to be the Champion of Cadien, but in the end it didn’t do him or the rest of my family much good. But I know my appearance isn’t natural, and I’ve seen a few other unnatural things over the years too. So for an actual answer to that question: I don’t know. But if a god [i]was[/i] watching over me, I suspect I would have had better luck by now.” Auriëlle raised her tankard. “Cheers to that, my friend. Cheers to that.” “That talk is blasphemy,” Arika whispered. “You should both have more respect.” Blasphemy, as if the gods cared. Auriëlle knew they didn’t. She just chuckled at Arika and said: “If I have done anything wrong to the gods then may they strike me down with great vengeance and furious anger.” She raised her tankard again in great defiance and this time emptied it whole. “I’d be more concerned about the anger of those around us,” Carn commented. All eyes were on them now, and her comments had not gone unheard. Some directed hateful stares toward her. Others grew fearful, bowing their heads and praying or even leaving the building entirely, as if her challenge could very well invite the wrath of the gods. “Alright, enough is enough,” the Innkeeper said, drawing near. “Get out. I’ll not have blasphemers sleeping under my roof.” The innkeeper got a deadly stare from Auriëlle. She kept at it for a moment, but then released a deep sigh. “Too far again.” She mumbled to herself as she got up. “Alright then. Guess I’ll find somewhere else to get some sleep.” She offered no other resistance as she got up and walked towards the door of the inn. And in that moment, the door swung open, and in stepped the priest. He stood in Aurielle’s path, but did not move aside, and instead scanned the room. His gaze settled on the white-haired man who had just risen from his own hair. “You,” the priest said. “Are you Carn?” “That I am,” Carn said as he stepped up next to Aurielle. “I’m quite popular around here, it seems.” The priest dropped to one knee, and cast his gaze downward. “You must save us.” Carn’s face fell. “I must what?” Auriëlle’s face fell as well. “He must what?” “Over a week ago, I received a message from Cadien. He said: ‘in seven days, your land will be plagued by bandits. On the eighth day, a white-haired warrior will arrive. On the ninth day, he will defeat them. On the tenth day, he will lead you.” The priest looked up at Carn. “That can only be you. You’re not the first to fall victim to these bandits; they made their first attack yesterday. And now you’re here. Just as foretold.” He dipped his head down again. “F-forgive me. I thought I was hallucinating. Or dreaming. Neither I nor my predecessor have never known the gods to speak to a mortal directly…” She managed to keep it together throughout the explanation the priest gave. In fact, Auriëlle made an effort to hear every last drop of what he had to say. Yet when it was clear he was finished, she couldn’t contain herself and burst out laughing. She even bent over clutching her stomach as tears came out of her eyes. She then pushed the priest back out of the inn and looked around. It was dark and there was no-one around. She managed to gather herself for a moment and asked: “Okay so obviously you’re lying but I want to know why. Do you like Carn that much or do you hate the chieftain that much?” The priest gave her a hard stare. “I have never known that man before in my life, and I have nothing against my chieftain’s leadership. Now move aside, girl. A divine command is no laughing matter.” Auriëlle frowned, but let him through. Though she kept her eyes on him. He was lying, he had to be. Gods didn’t talk to mortals. Gods dumped obelisks on your head, sends shades after you and then gives you magical powers without explaining a single word. The priest entered the building. A fortunate thing, too, because an angry crowd had gathered near the door, and Carn seemed to be the only thing preventing them from pouring out into the street to give Aurielle a piece of their mind. But as the priest re-entered, unharmed, they fell silent. “Who will aid this holy warrior on his quest?” the priest asked. All fell silent, until one voice spoke up. “I will!” said one man, whose armour suggested he was part of the village militia. “So will I!” a female voice pitched in. “Me as well!” “And me!” “Aye!” And on the voices went, until at last Carn had a good eight or nine volunteers, not counting himself, Arika, or Aurielle. “Well,” he said, as he turned to Aurielle. “It seems we have our reinforcements.” “Idiots.” She mumbled under her breath, making sure nobody heard them. Gods didn’t talk, didn’t give visions and certainly didn’t help mortals. It was all ploy to get the chieftain out. Screw it, she couldn’t care less. If others died so she didn’t have to, it would be fine by her. “I’ll find you when the sun’s coming up.” She casually told Carn as she walked away. Maybe she could find another mossy stone to catch some sleep on. [hr] [hider=Summary] Carn arrives at the village of Evenstar. Aurielle arrives at the same time, having been traveling as a drifter for at least a couple of years now. Carn's arrival draws a crowd, including Aurielle, and he tells her about the bandits. After hearing about the number of guards their cart had, she realizes that whatever it was carrying must be very valuable, and therefore they would have quite a lot to pay her should she help them reclaim the cart. They go to an inn to discuss the matter further, while the wounded guard from before is sent to the priest to be healed. They talk a bit about what to do about the bandits, with Carn deciding that they need more people, to which Aurielle reluctantly agrees. The topic then turns toward the gods, with Aurielle more or less saying that the gods don't care about them. This pisses the other tavern-goers off, so the bartender decides to evict them. Just then, the priest from before steps in, and claims to have foreseen Carn's arrival. Apparently Cadien gave him a message in advance about how the village would be endangered by bandits, and Carn would defeat them. Aurielle thinks this is ridiculous, but it does help get some more people on her side. [/hider] [hider=Prestige Summary] [u]Carn[/u] [b]Beginning Prestige:[/b] 4 +5 for 10k characters [b]Ending Prestige:[/b] 9 [u]Aurielle[/u] [b]Beginning Prestige:[/b] 8 +5 for 10k characters [b]Ending Prestige:[/b] 13 [/hider]