Connor was absolutely glad that they had left Imperial City behind, he still felt someone there might recognize him and brand him a deserter. Another part of his mind suggested that no one at all cared or noticed, more likely they were glad to be rid of his troublesome nature. Yet, during the Company's stay in the Imperial City he stayed hooded most of the time when doing errands and preferring to remain in closed quarters rather than stroll through the busy capital of the Empire. His relief of leaving behind Imperial City was abrubtly cut short as the island bearing the city of Orvston came in view.
It was February and the winter's grip felt tighter in the air as the Company went further and further North. The mentalist despised the cold even though he was born in a village bordering the North, it was something that his childhood friends mocked him about. Unfortunately for him, having put on a fur cloak with the hood on his head to prevent as much as he could the winter cold, did not prevent him from the lingering stench of carrion. He had been in just a few skirmishes in his life, and in none did he stay long enough in the aftermath to smell the horrible stench of corpses. Knowing that he was one of the least experienced in warfare from the whole company, Connor maintained a grimaced face to look as if he wasn't taken aback by the smell.
The company marched on a little while before orders came to stop and prepare an encampment. Connor noticed a few groups of men spraying out of the company into the surroundings.
Watch and I am not called ?
He thought that to himself with a raised eyebrow but greeted the news happily as he would have time infront of a fire and be able to meditate a bit. Connor hated meditating as much as he hated anything that made him stay in one place and do nothing but understood its importance in developing his skill in magic while he was being tutored by an old hermit - Dreadtalon - in a community of believers of the Old Ways, same as the community in which he was born in.
The adventurous youth reined in his horse and went off it giving the reins to a young boy who had a responsibility for the horses. Connor nodded to a few men of his platoon who were waiting for him to pitch the tents. As his relief faded earlier from leaving the Imperial City, his relief of having time to meditate was cut short by a shout.
"'Ey, Cub! Git ova' here! Got some erran's fer ya to do."
Bloody Spirits, I am getting tired of this. Connor muttered to himself then shouted back. Can't you get someone else do this sort of shit, Meirick?
Connor barely heard some loud rambling from the man and realized surprisingly that Meirick, that old crook, had given up. Such an occassion was very rare considering that man's stubborness, one comparable to Connor's. With a smile, he helped his comrades to pitch some tents up and start a few fires around the encampment.
Feeling free of responsibility for now, Connor knew well that he had a short amount of time to meditate before he would be called to stand watch. With a graceful step he entered the tent and knew well there was no one inside, his squad were either on watch or chattering over the flames with their comrades. The mentalist was glad that the smell of food was beginning to take ground over the disgusting stench of carrion. He sat down and closed his eyes inhaling a vast amount of air, the first thought that crossed his mind was his desire to join men around the fires and entertain them with jokes and sarcastic remarks. Connor waved away that thought and lunged himself in the flow of the Will.
Connor was well aware and taught of the dangers of the Will, especially for mentalists, as the Will came in the shape of a strong stream where all conciousness was flowing in and if not careful one could 'drown' there. He felt the 'noise' of hundreds of thoughts and decided to go through different minds. Connor could pick out those magically potent and 'visualize' their strength in the Will, they glowed like crystals underwater shone by the summer sun, the more they glowed the stronger their current mastery of the Will. The mentalist was reluctant to wander in the thoughts of those magically potent as his presence was often noted. He could conceal his presence in the minds of those not magically potent or not possessing a strong will but his skill in concealing his presence when touching the minds of magically potent was ridiculously weak. There were a more than a dozen men in the Company who were not magically potent but had barries of steel guarding their thoughts, some of them like the Captain who's barries would only leave a hole when he expected a message from Connor, the mentalist did not know how he did it that and presumed it was subconciously done, moreover he was unsure if the Captain could detect him and his presence if he attempted to break the man's barriers and Vaelis was more than sure that he did not want to try to experiment. Another such man was the Sarge - Odran Tarlach, he had very mere capabilities in the Will but had barries in his mind that were not as strong as the Captain's but were definitely endurable at least to Connor's skill level of Mentalism. He once attempted to pry on the sergeant and was harshly disciplined which resulted in Connor not trying to pry on the sergeant again.
His magically potent comrades, despite his reluctance, were usually his target of prying on as that way he became more experienced on attempting to conceal his presence in the mind of mages. As such he let his mind guide him to those that gleamed with magical potency, Connor was suddenly 'blinded' and quickly grasped his control over his flowing in the stream of the Will, even in his current state he knew his heart was currently racing in his body. The mentalist knew immediately that was the mind of the Imperial sorceress that was accompanying the Company, Connor realized the mastery of that woman. His adventurous spirit told him to jump straight in and see what he could find out, probably pillars of flame guarding her thoughts and mind, but even the brave bordering stupid mentalist knew that such attempt might end up negative for the whole Company and as such he was once again in the flow finding others with skill in the Will amongst his company. The first mind Connor 'saw' was Trialas', the alcoholic eccentric red-haired elf, he liked pulling pranks on Triala and often he'd influence her to trip while drunk. Those pranks halted the day his tent caught blue fire and he barely escaped with a few burns from the wrath of the pyromaniac. It was Odran's duty to stop the whole cat and mouse chase as flames were obliterating everything in their path while Connor was fleeing, his laugh echoing and contaminating the whole company until Odran, out of simply nowhere, bust a hilt in Connor's gut and knocked him out cold. This whole situation resulted in a week of dirty errand work and double shifts on watch and patrols, additionally he had a word with the Captain whose presence was enough for Connor to cease such attempts on the temeperament elf and generally.
The two other elves, Colette and Kaerun, were the next Connor saw. The latter gleaming less than the former. Kaerun having walls that were quite strong but seemed unaware when the mentalist was trying his skill to dig through them, or at least if he was aware he never made any comment on that. Colette, on the other hand, was more skilled in the Will than Kaerun and was the newest member, to his knowledge, of the Company. The mentalist does not believe she has ever caught his presence in her mind, but his touch on her mind was very reluctant and Connor was barely able to hear some thoughts and feelings which resulted in him knowing that she had a distate towards humans.
Moreover, Connor rarely has the time or the desire to enter in his comrades' minds, as the results of being caught was very harsh discipline and Connor did not find it worthy doing such things on those he deemed on his side without purpose.
The mentalist dropped himself in the flow again, hearing hundreds of thoughts of those that were easiest targets to Connor's magic but this broad listening resulted in hearing only a cacaphony. Connor's mind wandered for a bit until he caught one of those that he called 'unorthodox', due to their minds taking the shape of a mix of colors and having a 'feeling' of something different. The first was a dwarven women that he always forgot her name, finding it hard to pronounce, Connor could describe the feeling of her mind as that of the safety one feels around his guard dog. It was very hard to describe it differently and it was most likely Connor's skill in the Will that could not let him comprehend it otherwise. The mentalist never remembers having any word with her, only a few orders adressed to him and another group of men.
Connor 'glanced' at the other 'unorthodox' presence of mind and he easily realized who it was as he was struck with horror that made a chill run through his body. The stories he heard about this man were quite disturbing and his presence of mind described it, it felt as death. It emitted a certain coldness that always made Connor stay away from his mind, it was uninviting and the thought of going there felt as if jumping in an endless pit. As much as he was brave, Connor knew the results of prying on comrades' minds. And No-Quarter Kuro was not the most hospitable mind he would like to venture in.
He was again on the flow of hundreds of thoughts and the cacaphony of it, when his mind 'glanced' at another 'unorthodox' presence of mind and one which he felt most awkward. It emitted the feeling of a stalking predator ready to lunge at its prey and Connor imagined the smell of canine coming from that mind. It was a man who was renown for his tracking skills and often he was part of the parties that were sent for scouting missions along with Connor, but never did both of them end up in the same group so he never remembered the name he was called.
Connor left himself in flow of the river and made out in the cacaphony a thought about himself, stubbornly he filtered the cacaphony looking for that mind. His mind ended up prying on a young girl that's thoughts were focused as a needle at finding Connor. He preferred not to barge in her mind and attempt on hearing her surroundings to find out her exact location as he feared her age might not withstand Connor's erratic skill and result in her fainting. The mentalist left himself go just a moment before the young girl ventured in his tent holding a letter.
She hastily gave him the letter and left without uttering a single word. Connor raised an eyebrow, quite surprised at receiving a letter. He wondered if this was part of a prank someone was pulling on him. Inspecting the letter on all sides as if it might contain something dangerous, he opened it and three words drained the blood from his brain.
His mind and heart raced as he thought of anything he might've done lately that would bring him to the Captain. Connor could not make out any reason to go the Captain and now was the least moment he would attempt to even go near the Captain's mind, especially with the slight headache received from lingering for long in the flow of the Will.
Had the sorceress found out who he was and the Empire still aimed to deal with deserters, despite how lesser, as they do - with death ? No, it could not be so, he would've just been assasinated, or does the sorceress seek to make an example of him in Imperial City?
All these thoughts raced through his mind as he headed towards the fated tent of the Captain, deep inside he smiled. Whatever it was, it would prove adventure, if it resulted in his death. Somehow this made him feel more calm.