Out of the Fire and Into the Ice (M) (Nasrin)

[WolfMan]

With the grunt of a madman, Zod ripped the arrow from his shoulder. Blood began to spew onto the frost. He looked down. New skin cracked across wound, covering the red flesh and stopping the blood. Before he had time to do anything else, a piercing pain erupted into his gut. With a grimace, he looked up at his two assailants. One armed with a sword slowly walking towards him, and the other with a bow. With another massive grunt, he ripped the second arrow out. The second shot hurt even less, and seemed to heal faster, although marginally.

"Son of bitch!" Zod yelled as he charged forward two arrows in hand. Running faster than he ever had, he stopped just shy of his target to confuse him. The guard swung his sword, but Zod easily jumped back to avoid the hit. Before another action could be taken, Zod lunged forward and slashed the guard's neck with the arrow. Blood spewed as the guard dropped his sword and walked forward gripping for his neck.

Growing up without weapons could do that to a man, Zod thought. His form was sloppier than hell due to his time being imprisoned, but he always was able to improvise. He started walking towards the archer, but the archer turned, and kicked up dust. "Coward!" He yelled as the man ran out of sight. He heard a collapse behind him.

Turning around, Zod flipped over the strewn body. The armor wasn't an exact match to his frame, but it would do. Zod lost most of his weight in prison, "This fat pig of a guard won't me needing any of this." He begrudgingly put the blood soaked armor on. Everything seemed so much brighter and colorful than he was used to. Come to think of it, his ears began to painfully ache as they took in more and more sounds. He could hear a river in the distance, and banging sounds coming from the opposite direction. He went through the guards ruck sack. Two days worth of food and water, and some coin. He froze in place as intuition and understanding took over. That wasn't banging, it was the sound of horses. No way, he couldn't possibly run that..Zod's eyes widened. He could clearly hear a neigh. Throwing the rucksack over his shoulder, he turned and sprinted off towards the river as fast as he could. "I've just spent the last how many moons in that cell, I'm in no position to take on A guard, let alone THE guard."

He sprinted across the could frozen ground.The alarm bells began to muffle as rocks and snow turned into trees. He didn't have much time. He took off for a dead sprint towards the body of water.

[joylss]

The touch of winter blemishes the sterility of forests, seeking to lay fell evil to the springing of sunrise. erstwhile , strikingly radiant is the yolk which sits atop distant summit, and yet, red shall now adulterate its once pristine facet as winter comes to pass. Like a ghostly province forsaken by its inhabitants in the times of strive, cities once flourished by the riches of the wealthy shall now endure lonesomeness through this time of the year. No warmth would be graced by summer winds when in times of dire need, no flowers will spring from beneath this blanket of snow. Befuddled by famine where food now lays scarce, driven hunger is oft an impetus strong enough to commit an animal to a desperate end, and as such, predators may surface the snow to prowl, if not lying hidden within this mass of sheer-ice.


A man committed to his duties, no excuse shall prevail in thwarting his plans. Startled by distant sounds and voice, Nasrin tips his head northwards, frowning heftily. Watchful eyes catches the tainted red smeared upon sunrise, as if blood had been spilled that very morning. Shall the Gods seek no justice to the unmerited occurrence of earthly matters, while sitting atop their thrones in the Heavens unforthcoming? Shall they render no aid to the mortals which whence they address as children, permitting the reign of men coming to end?


For scarce has been food as of late, but scarcer still are the medical herbs which he oft came to harvest. Should he return from his escapade fruitless, nix but more than a few shall suffer this week. Nevertheless, daringly, he seeks to venture further down the isle per his usual journey. Naught but time will come to loss should he try his fortune in this juncture of time, after all, nigh is the lands to Falliel where the House of Caileth stood high. Guided only by instinct, Nasrin's feet seem to voluntarily come to the dwelling of bayou territory, frozen by the kiss of Winter's curse, where once a lake stood in its place, ice now subdues suite the appearance of bodily waters.

[WolfMan]

With a curse, Zod picked up his pace to as fast as he could run. The calvary split up to look for him, he could tell. The breaths of the many horses became fewer, and father apart as the guard panned the forest. His senses were incredibly acute, but Zod was beginning to adjust to his new found abilities. Realizing the water was father than he originally anticipated, He sheathed his sword and increased his pace further yet. The horses that were coming in his direction gained on him, but slowly. He was running at a mad sprint, and they would have to determine which way he was headed.

Zod veered off the trail and headed due south, crashing through the frozen twigs and sticks. His breath picked up slightly. This was the most youthful he felt his whole life, but laying in suspension for almost a whole year didn't do his body any favors. Thankfully for him, the ground had not yet been covered in complete snow. Had it, Zod's speed would've been slowed considerably, not to mention the men would have a clear map to his location.

As he broke through the clearing, he came upon a vast lake frozen in ice. Or, it appeared that way. Zod need not think about the distant stories of tribesmen and travelers alike, crashing through the ice and into the frigid waters. This was perfect, horses would be uncomfortable traveling across the ice. The guard would have to dismount, or find another way around if they chased him this far into the woods.

Zod patiently crossed the ice, he didn't want any accidents here. As we went, he pounded the ice behind him with the hilt of his sword. While the ice might reform by sundown, if anyone where to cross soon, they would be met with almost certain death. Reaching the other side, he looked around. To his surprise, a man with long blonde hair could be seen on the side he just crossed to.

Hopefully this man wouldn't be hostile, he didn't look like the guard, or any sort of folk he had seen before.
"Oi!" Zod shouted at a distance. Best not to sneak up on him. He walked slowly and carefully towards the figure.

[joylss]

whereas a competitive chase is initiated to lay siege on the proactive criminal, it does naught but champion Nasrin from oblivion of an absconded convict. Thundering footslogs fulminate around the plains sounded all but nix the same, in fact, he could vaguely ascertain this was a chase of one against a thousand. Perhaps, Nasrin should refrain but venture down here in the moment untimely. Nevertheless, he seeks to resort his time harvesting herbs despite the dispute.


Here, down the mountain paths where presences are starkly sparse, resources abundant are furnished and untouched. Herbages of the verdure colour are rendered pure, uncontaminated and unbent by the unsavory touches of malady, where in Seredipity, most have already withered away before the rising of summer moons.


Nimble hands reaches down to pluck a leaf from its stem, before permit it to levitate wispily into the pouch strapped around waist. Contradictory, while the pouch sits amid the leather on his right thigh, the hilt of his blade is hung defensively on his left. The practitioner devotes his mind to wielding the sword that was once a ceremonial gift from his grandfather, the day he makes his depart from Doriaty's coastline.


Nigh is the winds against supple paunch of cheek like knife to skin, when the blond-haired man is proffered an aware of a new presence in the vicinity. The man, unsightly only by dirt that adorned his skin, is seemingly from the fray of stalking pursuers.


"A seemingly impassable pandemonium is at play, Mister, or so, I've heard. Should you not be watchful while you hoist your voice, for shall I deem the sounds of fracture footfalls of soldiers, perhaps... a criminal has been made loose where we stand?" impeccably, the doctor employs a mannerly smile, while singular glow of irisdecent hues is directed linearly at his speaking adversary across slippery ice.

[WolfMan]

Zod was relived to see the man smile. "Crimina!? Why my good sir, I assure you its nothing of that sort. Simply put, a jealous noble seeks my head." As he said this, he he held out both arms wide to show he meant no threat. "I seem to have lost them for the time being it would appear." He lowered his voice as he said these things. Zod couldn't afford to give his location away.

Pausing briefly, he took a moment to take in his surroundings. He slowly lowered his breath, attempting to perform a walking mediation. He could smell the earth, the fish beneath the surface of the ice. He took a moment to concentrate, and listen. The galloping continued down the path, past the break where Zod had ventured off.

Some guard might veer off, but he wasn't worried about facing a small group of guards. Not after what happened. His muscles began to heal the effects of sitting in a cell for a year. He began to approach the man, so that he could speak even more at a more discrete level. He kept his hands up, and away from his sword. He tried to convey that he meant no harm to this man.

[joylss]

"... So I see. Knights of Connlaoth adjudge their fine esteem through prevailing the eradication of magic. Pardon me were I to relay arrogance, friend; But--- it surprises me not that Connlaothian prisoners would evince themselves of misjudgements."


Whilst a denizen of these lands he is not, requisite is deemed that the utmost news from Connlaoth shall ultimately play a mandatory role in the goodwill among the citizens of Seredipity and other nations across lands, for the latter proclaims itself to be a country of wizardry and magic, openly practiced as commonly as a farmer toiling his fields. In so, Seredipitians must eventually be mindfully vigilant when crossing Connloathian borders, but most shall refrain from doing so if not for inexorable reasons.


Heedfully, the doctor's thoughts would be disrupted by frail lesions that extends far beneath the skin. Nasrin's eyes is sharp even through thick fabric and remote distance, watching keenly with every gesture that would be expectant from his guest. Nigh is he drawing near with hands lifted above the air, but the noble and heir of the House of Caileth shall suffer no faux statements from a mere stranger.


"Ploding soldiers now seek testimonial through a man by the name of Zod. Tell me then, are you to be said man who would answer to that name?"

(OOC: Nasrin isn't the sort of person who would turn someone in for gold, but he hates being lied to ;))

[WolfMan]

A wide grimace showed as the man said this. "Indeed. It would appear to be a trait typically held across all leadership positions in this life." As he said this, he looked painfully down to his chest, arms, and torso. Although he couldn't see it through is armor, he could still feel a dull stinging sensation. Being able to heal was an advantage, but Zod simply wouldn't be able to heal a years worth of torture in one day.

He stopped walking towards the man. Despite having a friendly demeanor, the man's persona still smelled of mild distrust. Zod understood this. He wondered what his own reaction would be had a dirt covered man came running up to him out of the woods. 

Zod analyzed the man in the brief silence that emerged between his words. He could see that the man was contemplating something, but knew not what it was. His own name echoed across the ice. Damn word travels fast, he thought to himself. Zoe's initial reaction told him to be wary, but he shook off the feeling. This man didn't look particular aggressive, nor did he have the physical build of someone who could chase him down, if things went south. Zod glanced between the man's sheathed sword and his pack, containing something fresh Zod reckoned. Although it was a considerable distance, the smell of fresh earth could be had, along with a plant of some kind. He knew not what it was, nor what it did, but it was one of the first pleasant smells he had encountered in fate knows how long.

"Aye that is me," Zod stated with a tone of mischievousness. Despite not actually being a criminal, he couldn't help but smile. He had been out for little over a few hours, and already he was more famous than he ever had been before this situation. A condition he hoped wouldn't persist. The guard could be heard faintly in the distance, but it was even fewer and father apart than before.

"Eradication of magic," Zod echoed gently. A wicked smile erupted from his face. "I wonder how the Connlaothian authorities would react to a nobleman supporting the usage of magic?"

[joylss]

Culpability shall be within the folly commitments of his jailers. Cue the exploit of wakeful eyes, before him exhibits the presence of a wounded man ordained by shackles. Nasrin employs no cruel regard for refugees of the indisposed, yet cruelly will he tantalize this impish man, Zod, for his discourteous schemes!


( For be mindful, that on the side of his father he is honoured as the descendant of a noble house, whereas on the side of his mother, a crowned prince and heir to the throne of Doriaty is also his rule! )

❝ Are you perhaps imposing a threat on me, Zod? ❞  Starkly shall those words impart through the lips, simpering and coupled in a like manner as per his speaking adversary's. ❝ I'll have you know that I am deemed the rightful heir of the noble House of Caileth, and a prince to my people the Doriathim, as assertive as I shall have you hear: the grandson of King Lanvir is I !! So, be heedful as you speak, for the title of prince nonetheless I bear. However, in retailation to your query----my answer shall be no. Since the natal days, neither am I of the blood of Connlaothians nor am I a follower of their faith. In like so, they have no right to hinder me. ❞

[WolfMan]

Zod's words had a harsher impact than he intended. He walked closer yet to the man, making sure to keep a healthy distance. He did not want to be seen as taking hostile action, he simply wanted to a avoid shouting across the ice and attracting attention. He could clearly see all of the man's features now, as they stood a mere 15 yards apart. His long blonde hair trailing in the gentle breeze that caressed these lands during calm times.

"My good sir, you mistake my meaning. I refer to the man who held me captive earlier this morning. Hiring magical torturers surely breaches the code of theirs no?" He inquired this earnestly. He looked away from the man, and began to mentally map out the mountains he saw before them. He wondered if he could take a pass to avoid this area when the time came, or whether he would have to trudge along with well traveled path until anonymity.

Despite nearly having accidentally raised the hostility levels to that of a dangerous level, he could not help but note the man implied having magical ability. Zod was slightly offended, as this stranger kept implicating a rogue quality about him. He let neither feeling show, as he attempted to deescalate the situation

"My good man, perhaps my unintended meaning may shed some light as to our situation. I am no more a criminal for pursing legal coin, than you are by pursing magic eh?"

[joylss]

❝ condone am I to magic, so decrees the Connlaothian authorities. And wrongfully evil am I deemed accordingly! Should you share similar ideals with them, then---I beseech you to try me. But, know that while I am yet a gullible man to deceive, your name remains wanted than mine shall ever be. ❞ For is he not the man in which they sought? footslogs of heavy metal resounds within the gelid, freezing air; snowflakes cascades wispily around them both, landing on willowy shoulders with great benevolence as prying eyes of pursuing men settles upon dark warrior and fair noble.

With the waning of reclusing presence, Nasrin ejects a flying fit of arrow across icy plains with the pivot of the wrist. Nigh shall the Connlaothian knights draw close forthcoming, yet crossing the fissure of gelid lake they would not. At this moment of dire want, loosely is Nasrin convinced that the man Zod habours no ill-intentions. Yet the lady Fate would deem their meeting to eventuate at this juncture of time, where he shall he lugged forth into the fray of lethal battle. Ah, accurse this hapless state of forgoing luck! Precise his stance and face of this moment, for never had he been left to behold so ill a grace! Chortling are the owls descry their momentary, perilous locus, for as another arrow is sent flying across frozen lake, Narsin permits his undoing by the motion of beckoning hand.

❝ come, Zod! Presumably we make haste up the mountain side, there, we should likely be able lay hidden under the shadows of luxuriant trees till late sunset. So make haste, and come with me! ❞

[WolfMan]

"For the time being aye. That is, until he grows tired of a young man and shifts his attention to more precious and immediate concerns," said Zod with indifferently. He recoiled slightly, as a particularly chilly stretch of wind pushed across the ice. He felt something amiss. Looking around nervously, he turned his gaze behind him, where in the distance men on foot began to appear, in sight, but out of distance.

Or so he thought, his head snapped back to the man, as hissing sounds whizzed past. In awe at his display of magic, but also possess a marginal fear. The bright flashes of his containment resurfaced again to his mind.

Not needing to be told twice, he quickly walked behind Nasrin, and followed them back across the ice. and onto a small dirt path. Looking around, he nervously peered into a distant bend, attempting to see around it. Relieved at the sight of nothing, Zod quickened his pace, as they walked towards the closet massive land form. Rocks now lay spew onto the ground in varying locations, clearly the aftermath of a rock collapse from the nearby cliff.

[joylss]

❝ Then, I shall ensure they see through the benefits of an estranged warrior than a hopeless physician. ❞ disparaging is his snide, as he sought to release yet another fit of arrows in retaliation to the enemy's advances. Nasrin finds his resolve in moving in between fissures of snow as easily as a snake shedding its skin. Once upon the inner territory of caves, the shady region shall provide suffice shelter to both convict and healer, and perhaps even more. While Seredipitinians cares not to across their borders into Connolath, the first is honoured the same.

❝ See that wild animals do not habitate this cave, lest we escaped one hassle but permits another. ❞ Nasrin departs a fair warning to his new found friend-enemy companion, while submitting himself to patrol the innards of hollow mountains. Not once may Connolathians venture this far into Seredipity, but even if they had not done so, Nasrin contemplates his luck with utmost genuinity.


Totter of foot, despite his unannounced distrust to the man, Nasrin pulls a halt to his feet, pondering in pensive doubt before turning around to meet with doubtful gaze. ❝ And tonight... ❞ he decrees, voice soft yet odd when executed to a strange whose origins he does not yet even know. ❝ I shall see that you are uninjured from the battle as well. Ensure the fires are kindled before nightfall. ❞

(OOC: Spiteful sarcastic doctor is being nice to you, Zod! be grateful 8^D )

[WolfMan]

"Having traveled cross country, into a land where magic is illegal, I'm sure you're  lacking in the proper skill of battle friend," Said Zod quite sarcastically, but in a friendly tone.  Nasrin had a sense of humor, unlike the muppets who contained Zod for such a long time.

"As you wish," said Zod simply to their requests "Let know if you find anything of interest, or need help fending off some unseen danger," he added. He felt notably better upon resting for some odd moments As Nasrin descend into the cave, Zod turned his attention out towards the the opening. He couldn't help but echo Nasrin's words of wild animals. His stomach growled, and he desperately needed food. Taking his knife, he reached into his pack, and a small vine trap appeared. He placed it near a tree, and walked out of eyesight to the trap, but not the cave. He went to a large branch, and swung it over himself as he returned to the cave. Beginning to cut with his knife, he eventually made a neat pile of firewood, and turned the rest of the branch into more for later, and two skewers they would be able to use if luck would have it.

Getting up, he strode out the cave entrance, returning to his now old trap, he was delighted to see that a rabbit had gotten tangled in it. He hadn't dressed a kill in over a year, but he had relied on it for half a decade previous to that. He saved the hide, and separated the meat from fat. He returned to the pile of wood. Placing some of the fat down, he got a piece of flint from a utility pouch at the guards stolen armor. Quickly looking, he noted two other pouches, one containing thin rope, and one containing a small amount of gold.

He lit the fat, crackling as smoke began to rise. The flames delicacy touched the wood, and he knew fire was to be had. Taking the knife and some wood thread, he began to work at creating a small bag from the rabbit skin and rope.

[joylss]

The man may be a formidable combatant upon the battlefield, but similarly, Nasrin is not a man who would conduct repose while his magic is withheld from proposing destructive means. For the steel that glistens in ravenous bloodlust hangs merely adjacent to his left thigh, where he himself is the very vestige of an atheist that no longers entrust his destiny to the hands of god. For the good of his mother's people is the very opposite of it, and Nasrin has thus far breached the good of prospects in Dorathims but not without primal reasons.

❝ I must confess you to enlighten my misconception-- I am no amateur to the art of swordplay, merely, it does not do me well to know that my hands are garnished with Connolathian red whereas slaughter may be dispensable on such tedious ploy. ❞

It would do him well to be heedful of the smirk that played upon porcelain lips, for Nasrin is unlike the testimonial jest of Connolathian doctrines who cut down the heads of magic users and proclaim them a defier of god.  Religious faiths are to expanded only for the good of rectitude should it go by any means, Nasrin thought. For he, as one, would not kneel before the behest of a crude and vicious god.

Ere the night has spreaded her twilight curtains over the fell snow of Kilanthro Mountains, the practitioner is greeted by the sheer smell of homeland cooking. Therefore, a smile is employed upon the doctor's lips, while he searches for a spot to kneel behind the convicted man's back.

❝ Herbs are scarce within these lands, but I entrust them to suffice for a few days or more. Now, should you not shed your armour so I may see to your wounds? ❞


(OOC: Remember when you said you were trying to play Zod as someone who has forgotten the way to socialize? Well I say you're doing a pretty good job of it! Nasrin is actually lowkey distasteful about him but he's not saying anything because it's his policy to be polite :"3c )

[WolfMan]

Nasrin had a calm and seemingly friendly demeanor, but his aura smelled of something else. Zod couldn't quite place it, but something seemed off. Perhaps his time locked up had made him paranoid, but still, something made him uneasy. He could reasonably detect that the hidden perception wasn't ill-intent, as Nasrin had a clear opportunity to attack Zod's back upon his approach. Nasrin seemed pretentious, but not enough to warrant foolish or arrogant behavior, Zod hoped for both of their sakes.

After contemplating for a few moments, Zod stirred the fire to keep it alight. Embers flew in various directions, but all contained within a small radius. Wordlessly, he responded to Nasrin's question, by removing his gauntlets, and placing them neatly over his pack to the left of him. As he did this, scares were revealed, traveling up and down his arms. Zod was quite shocked at the progress of his healing. He had noticed the pain had been less as the day went on, but was surprised to see several months of torture essentially gone before his eyes.

"I must apologize my acquaintance, for my conservativeness," he said simply. Zod was referring of course, to the chest armor that still covered his body. It wasn't that he didn't trust Nasrin, but his seemingly simple culture dictated to present ones self in an appropriate manner at all times. That, and Zod was entirely convinced that Connlaoth guard wouldn't burst through the cave entrance at any moment.