24th of Saun 720, Early morning
In mid-flight, a magpie dribbled some shit, which fell on Woe's head. The mortalborn sneezed.
This biological warfare with nature, between the filth of the trees and road and the occasional hot drizzle of Saun rains... it reminded him far too much of his travel through Rhakros the last arc. And while he didn't think that the bird would give him parasites or infections just by dint of dropping its payload on him, the memory of that place drove his mind to the extremes. He ought to take precautions as he neared Etzos. Who knew what might still be lurking within the wilderness...
Sometimes he foolishly worried about the boy, being alone for so long. But then, he'd survived the last arc, and goodness knows how many before Woe had even met him. The wild child was certainly a useful guide in any event. Toutouye could take care of himself, Woe decided after a day traveling with him. It was his own safety he had to look after.
Toutouye led the way, off the beaten path. Woe decided that they would go northeast, figuring that it would be too risky to visit Ne'haer again, after his turbulent escapades there half an arc ago. Communicating via signed language wasn't difficult. Although he wasn't quite as capable of communicating complex concepts to Toutouye through his signs, he was able to point the way at least.
Every other tree they approached seemed to disturb another flock of birds that made their nests in it. As they made their travel this way, through the woodlands, Woe discovered a keen dislike of the common wild bird. Crows were one thing, they were intelligent enough to avoid humans and keep well away. But these things these magpies and wood finches and robins... They were vile, grasping creatures. Afflicted with the curse of curiosity and inquisitiveness. He even began to hate them.
Woe wondered why Llyr would choose to identify as such a hateful creature as a Magpie. But then, after consideration, it made sense. The curiosity, the carefree attitude, his grasping, and insightful nature. In many ways, Magpie was diametrically opposite to who Woe was. The mortalborn supposed that was part of the reason he and Magpie had such a hate/love relationship.
These thoughts and others just as meandering and silly came to his mind every once in a while as he walked. Nothing like a hike to kick the mind into thinking about pointless subjects. Woe sighed as he came just beneath the crest of a large hillock, which Toutouye took to standing upon. The boy turned around at Woe, and then waved, and pointed at what was at the other side. Woe rolled his eyes but didn't want to ignore the boy. Toutouye rarely steered him wrong in the wilderness, so he gave him the benefit of the doubt here.
Woe grunted as his feet climbed the muddied earth that was held together only by some tree roots and dead leaves. When he arrived at the top of the crest, he saw what Toutouye had been pointing out. It was a large wagon, which lost a few wheels, and looked to have been abandoned some time ago. No, not abandoned, as some flies ate a bloated corpse nearby. It was the remains of an ambush by bandits. Woe made a move to descend the hill, but Toutouye stuck out an arm to stop him and shook his head when Woe turned to him.
Toutouye made a cutting motion across his neck and shook his head as he pointed again toward the dilapidated wagon. Was he indicating a trap or ambush? That was certainly plausible. It seemed a fair tactic for a bandit to use their latest victim as bait for a new mark.
Woe turned his back to the hillock and gestured for Toutouye to get next to him. Toutouye lowered down behind the hillock but kept an eye on the broken wagon. The torturer cleared his mind and searched for the clarity he'd need to feel the notes in the area. Notes he was well familiar with, notes of watchfulness, notes of suspense and tension of a waiting ambush. He'd experienced much the same during his time in Quacia, although he didn't know at the time what those notes had meant.
Woe felt for the notes. Some he knew, murder, panic that had long since died down. There was none of the tension in the air from having the area watched, with a trap ready to spring. Woe opened his eyes, and looked back over the hillock, spying the details of the caravan. There was still some loot leftover. The bandits that struck didn't have enough baggage, it seemed, to take everything. It was too tempting to pass up.
Before Toutouye could stop him, before he could wave his hands and stomp his feet about it, Woe was scrambling over the hillock. He kept close to the ground as he moved, maintaining his awareness on the surrounding notes as he approached the broken down wagon. There, he found the driver, the horse, and several of the caravaneers dead, their bodies stripped of all valuables and anything remotely suitable as a weapon. Still, Woe sensed something nearby, a glint of sharpness hidden somewhere in the vicinity. Like a thorn in his shoe, it dug into his waking consciousness.
He combed the surface around the fallen wagon, his hands traveling over the dirt. Using the technique of dousing, to find the 'sharp' object, he walked along to a sodden pile of leaves on the other side of the clearing at the side of the road. There, he felt the sharp object calling to him, singing with its metallic edge for him to take it up.
He threw the leaves aside and was chilled to the heart with what he saw. A stash of loot, some of which must have come from the caravan. The thieves that raided this wagon hadn't finished clearing the treasure, and would probably return soon.
Nevertheless, Woe found a sharp eating knife. It was indeed sharp and made of bronze. No masterwork piece but with a wooden handle and a sharp point, it would do for self-defense or a sneak attack.
Woe rose halfway to his feet and was about to move over toward the other side of the hillock, where Toutouye was. But then, a voice stopped him in his tracks. "Well well well. What 'ave we 'ere. Posh gentleman lost all alone in the wood, and he had stumbled on our treasure!"
A round of hollering and hooting sounded from nearby, and three thieves emerged from the wood. One of them had a short sword, the other a club, and the third, well. He had a decently made bullwhip that must've been taken from the caravan.
Woe's pulse froze as he watched them emerge. He still tried to hide the eating knife in his cloak as he turned around and raised his hands in surrender.
"I don't want any trouble, my friends." Woe intoned, trying to calm their hackles with his empathic tendrils. His feelers tried to find signs of fear, apprehension, or even just skiddishness of finding a stranger alongside the road. He found nothing of the sort. They were entirely confident of their position, and they knew they had him.
"I'm sure we can come to a mutually satisfactory solution here..."
"Oy! Ya, let's horsewhip lord limb into yesteryear, and see what he's got on his purse!"
"Dibs on the fancy cloak!"
"I saw 'im first! I get the tunic or surcoat or, whatever you call that thing he's wearing."
"N' what about his jewelry? How shall we divy that up?"
"You'd best figure it out soon." Woe said, strumming a feeling of cold dread from himself, and embroidering it into the blade wielders tangle. Figuring him to be the most dangerous among them.
The pug-faced cretin scrunched his face up at that, "What've yer gotter say to it, Ponce!? I'll gutcher now!"
But Club held out his arm to stop him and shook his head. "Wait, there's something not right about this guy... I think he's..."
Bah!" Said the man with the whip. "Witch or no, he'll wither like any beast!" So saying, the man telegraphed his attack horribly, giving Woe ample opportunity to prepare. He'd seen this done before, when he was the one using a whip when he'd been a novice. And he knew just how to counter a novitiate with a whip.
He stepped forward, and allowed the whip to wrap slightly around his arm, but then pulled his arms together taut, and yanked the weapon out of the man's hand.
The two others stood dazed by the move, while the whipman was enraged. He took out a pair of knives from his belt and growled. "Les get 'im!"
Woe drew the eating knife from his cloak, while the whip swirled over head, ready to crack them into submission.
Will continue...
