Bricc of Ages: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Mountain (Snarg)

[Hyacinthus]

A pause. Another sip.

This moment was far more important to Kiri than simply rehydrating after the night of vicarious self-indulgence she'd suffered. As she sat at the bank of the river, legs crossed on the ground, sword settled on the ground at her side, she allowed herself a few moments to truly acknowledge where she was— or perhaps more impactfully, WHAT she was.

Free.

How long had it been, truly? She could only recall having been allowed out of that abhorrent darkness— that cage of enchanted metal which her very soul was bound to— once. The circumstances... what were they? If her memory served her truly, the armor which bound her had taken some sort of severe damage. A battle... with a wolf? No... a man. It was a wolf-like man, yes; She could remember brandishing her blade against him in self-defense only moments after tasting sunlight for the first time. A fearsome opponent... one she was much too disoriented at the time to kill.

She'd have to rectify that, one day.

Alas, just as then, Kiri knew she could only enjoy this 'freedom' for a short time. The magic which bound her soul to that... 'thing', was still in tact. Even as she tasted fresh water for the first time in an uncountable number of years, and felt the warmth of the sun on her skin in kind, she could still feel the 'pull'. The compulsion of her very soul to return to the cage in which it was destined to remain.

The Vallyae family's magics were fearsome, indeed. A shame, then, that she was all that remained of it.

As she opened her eyes, and wearily watched the fool of a warrior seemingly come to— or closer to— his senses, she could merely wonder for how long she would be allowed to walk the earth this time. A day? A season? A calendar? It mattered little, in the grand scheme of things. Eventually, the armor would recover— it always did— and she would be locked away once more.

"You are awake, then?"

As for the time she had...

[Goldie]

The water was revitalizing and he found himself thinking clearly despite the nausea that remained and, would probably, remain for some time yet. He had been stupid to drink in an attempt to chase away his problems and even stupider to think a giant suit of armor would have a shred of understanding on how human bodies worked. No, drinking with armor was never a good idea.

At least he was alive to learn that lesson. Fuck, when did that become a good thing? His life meant nothing. He was nothing.

With a sigh, he trudged back towards the shore where the oddly corporeal looking spirit now sat next to her blade. She was intriguing, far more so than her prison - at least to him. She had a code of honor it would seem, and expected others to live by it as well.

Foolish girl. She had been imprisoned and yet still saved someone who might try to kill her in the future. That kind of honor was deadly. It was the kind of honor Snarg had nearly two decades ago before everything had fallen to shit. He was no longer honorable. He was a mercenary who killed without a thought, followed orders without question, and was lost when there weren't clear instructions. He made poor decisions, that was the whole reason his life had become what it was. He couldn't trust himself. The wind decided his fate, now.

He was on the bank and sat, soaking wet and without even an attempt to dry off, next to Kiri, probably closer than he should have, and stared off across the water without speaking.

He didn't need to say a word.

[Hyacinthus]

The tranquil flow of the river against Kiri's bare legs, the sound of the current as it flowed free and transient toward the ocean's edge-- Despite the calm that she displayed in presence, the young woman couldn't help but acknowledge the foreignness of it all... if only to herself. Time passed just as slowly within the cage that was her true 'home' as it did outside of it. There was no breeze, there. No earthen dirt to feel beneath her feet, no grass to run betwixt her toes, no bubbling river brooks to occupy her ears... No sun to illuminate her sight. There wasn't even sound-- not truly. For years, she could be simply 'exist'; Her very senses cut off from the outside world. Only her thoughts remained-- perhaps a result of the hastily-cast soulbinding, and perhaps a curse meant to drive her to madness with time.

A curse which nearly took hold... very many times. For what was a life without sight? Without touch? Without smell, taste, or sound? What was an eternity, with neither a body to grow restless within, or proof that you yet lived? That you ever lived? Yet her willpower persisted-- originally out of a soul-borne need for vengeance, which eventually faded to mere mindless hatred, through the depths of despair, and even periods of despondent nothingness. It was... humbling, in a sense; the realization through time of how very little truly mattered, when cursed with eternity itself.

"You sit and stand like a warrior, now. But you carry yourself like a dog." Her eyes paid him no mind. Neither the unwarranted odor of booze that yet tagged her nose, nor the closeness of his body to her own deterred her relative peace of mind as she continued to meditate on the flow of the river. "Indeed... you have grown from dog to man, yet much within you is still dog. Once, all men lived like beasts. Yet it seems in this age, man has become more beast than the beasts themselves." It was a pointed statement, an insult, and an inquiry. And in her mind, it was a fair assessment of the madness of this era. Who could blame her? Kiri was a stranger to the... 'customs'... of this time, and this place. She would admit that readily if asked, and learn from mistakes if pressed-- but she would not apologize for what was blatant to her.

"You have yet to overcome yourself. You've yet to even try. Is that normal, in this era?"

[Goldie]

If she was expecting some kind of deep conversation with explanations and understanding, she was speaking with the wrong person. He knew the evils that inhabited the world. Not only was he one of them, now, but he had looked pure evil in the eye and been consumed by it.

They were all dogs. Every single person on this gods forsaken earth were dogs, were beasts as she put it. Even the good ones were liars of the worst kind - the kind that couldn't admit it to themselves.

"If you're looking for a philosopher, you've saved the wrong dog." He growled harshly, still looking over the water and not making any indication he planned to move either for himself nor against her. He was just existing with the sun against his leathery skin and the nausea in his soul.

"Is this how you would use your freedom? Saving assassins and realizing that humanity is doomed?"

[Hyacinthus]

Surprisingly, Kiri sat on his words for a brief period of time— seemingly considering them quite genuinely. Whether she felt slighted, disappointed, or even disturbed— it was hard to say. But the pause she gave in response to his words was meaningful— or at least, seemed to be to be from the outside looking in. "I have my answer," She eventually responded, staring out into the opposing river's edge— perhaps beyond it.

Skittering footpads echoed quite gently through Kiri's attuned ears. A tiny, insignificant lizard passed behind the two of them, as they continued to take in the cooling river's current, and the warmth of the sun above. Eventually, she lowered her hands back into the current— cupping another drink of water.

"Whatever meaning there is to be found in life or death must be found by you, and you alone. If that is to lay down and die like a dog, then by all means— walk back into the river."

Perhaps the words came off as aggressive— they weren't inherently meant to. Much as Snarg had no patience to play the 'philosopher' as he so put it, she could not validate— nor invalidate— the man's will to live... or lack there of. Instead, having finished the drink of water, she closed her eyes once more, and fell into a state of pseudo-meditation.

'Pseudo', it seemed, because despite this, she was very much aware of her surrounds... including the skittering footpads once more. 

They had guests.

[Goldie]

Snarg didn't respond. He didn't feel any need to say anything. All that she got with a soft grunt in reply simply to acknowledge that he was, in fact, listening. At the end of the day he didn't care what this trapped spirit said or how she decided to view the world. His life had ceased to be his own after that day on the road.

He had been weak and now he was strong. He had been honorable and now he knew that honor meant nothing if your own decision making was flawed. Fuck, she had been trapped in that armor for who knows how long – she had to know that same truth on some basic level of understanding. She had clearly made some questionable choices which had landed her in her little prison.

Just because his prison didn't have walls didn't mean he wasn't in the exact same position.

So he sat there. If she wanted to fight, he'd fight. His blades were still attached to his belt, though he made no move to retrieve them. His lot in life was to do what others wanted, earn coin, and then sleep until the next job came along. There was nothing else to it. One day a job would kill him, or drink, or old age, or whatever Death himself decided was good for him.

At the end of the day it didn't matter. Honorable deaths didn't matter. Life didn't matter. He wouldn't take his own life, that was too good for him, but he wouldn't shy away from death when it came knocking to claim him.

[Hyacinthus]

A silent gloom fell over the duet of warriors as they sat; The midday sun as radiant as it was oppressing. Essyrn's heat was ill-mitigated by course of the river, soothing though it was. Despite the heat, however, Kiri felt not a bead of sweat run down her brow... A likely side effect of the transient state of her soul. Curious-- if a little disturbing. An ever-present reminder of her circumstances, that she was no long truly an inhabitant of this world... Moreso a stranger in a strange land, or a figment of history's imagination.

"Down there!"

She took a moment to take in a long, deep breath, expanding her lungs and revitalizing her body. The skittering footpads had gone from a distant echo to a very noticeable clamor, and now were accompanied by the tell-tale jingle of tempered metal against metal, and the  flapping of leather against skin. Those weren't random animals mucking about in the distance-- they were camels, with leather straddling mounts and-- as was typically the case-- leather-clad men and women doing said straddling on mounts.

The stink of the animals was already more or less upon her heightened senses before they even closed in; Thankful was she that she thought to savor the last bits of air before they drew closer.

"Scumbag! Thought you'd escape us after the stunt you pulled last night, huh?" The accusation was thrown like a foul, month-old fish at the back of Snarg's head, as four hooded figures hurriedly approached the two resting souls at the riverbank, dismounting their camels and strutting toward the two resting warriors. They were an intriguing lot; the leather armor they wore was fairly uniform, with a few deviations between one another out of preference. All bore the same insignia on their right shoulderpad; That of a front-facing lion's head, with wings seemingly sprouting from behind. They were all armed, as well-- though that wasn't surprising in this world, all things considered.

Kiri didn't move, in spite of their proximity and hostility. They weren't talking to her-- surely they weren't. She was right, of course-- though not because she somehow knew the future. Moreso did she sense the tension and intent of the scimitar-wielding strangers long before they so much as opened their mouths.

"Thought you'd make a fool of our boss and run off with that bitch of a giant, huh!? Where's our fucking gold!?"

Of the four, two men-- the particularly mouthy one, as well as one other-- were the closest. Neither'd drawn a blade yet, potentially out of concern for scaring off the resting Kiri near to him, or from a show of patience. Granted, the latter seemed particularly incredulous in the circumstances, as not even moments after he'd come in barking as hot as he had, the mouthy man had placed a boot to Snarg's back, rather disrespectfully nudging him to stand up. "Can't fucking believe we had to track you down-- Can't even find that other piece of shit-- But if you don't cough up what you did with our fucking gold...!"

"Tanner, calm down-- you're gunna scare the girl." His nearby compatriot chimed in.

"FUCK THE GIRL! IF I DON'T GET THAT GODDAMN MONEY BACK EVERY LAST ONE OF US IS FUCKING DEAD!!" 'Tanner', apparently, replied in kind.

Said 'girl' finally exhaled, having had a particularly calming meditative breathing session. She could feel her mind sharpening and her awareness heightening with every passing second, as she willed the effects of the poison out of her very being. Good grief-- what a relief to be able to think clearly again. She almost smiled-- but settled for a contented face faulting instead as she opened her eyes and got a proper view of the situation they... or, well, mostly the dog, had gotten into.