Cyril, the Wanderer, and Company
Try as he might, Cyril just couldn't seem to get a full handle of the situation. Even as he waited the brief moments it took for Drosil to answer, he startled slightly as the newest female member of their group practically exploded. Eyes widening in surprise and then horror as she began strangling the man in front of them all, shaking him violently in the process. The man, surprisingly enough, didn't fight back, instead just letting his arms swing back and forth freely in the process, just as his head bounced back and forth as well. From the shaking, the Wanderer gave a sort of quiet, distraught groan that, once it began, didn't stop.
Even as Cyril opened his mouth to try and intervene he was once more sidetracked, though this time it was by something much quieter. His brow furrowed in confusion briefly as he felt the touch on his shoulder, turning in his head to see that it was Joy. Something was clearly bothering her, about just what he wasn't certain, but she asked for privacy when it came to the matter and it was clearly serious. He gave her a nod, saying,
"Tonight then, as soon as we come to a proper stop."It was then that Cyril got his answer from Drosil... and he wasn't satisfied with it. Admittedly he didn't know as much about Drosil as he did Shadar since he had spent more time with the latter, and he barely knew Shadar at all, but something didn't come off as... quite right in Drosil's explanation. Too convenient wasn't the right way to describe it, but far-fetched seemed to be more likely. It wasn't the time or the place for a proper grilling of the Jasian, so Cyril just filed it away for later pursuit. Even as Drosil's attention went to Ennis instead, Cyril was moving to step beyond them all, the journey beyond now foremost in his mind-
Wait, puppy-love? It was enough to bring Cyril to a complete stop in his tracks, and round on the Jasian. It was mostly due to the fact that it seemed so ridiculous, but Cyril made his decision then and there to just keep moving. The situation would only get more out of hand if he engaged with it now, so he instead just said over his shoulder, above the general clamor,
"Let's move everyone! Time's wasting, and we need to get back on the road again."As the Prince said these words, the Wanderer finally did something to prevent himself from being shaken to the point of concussion. His hands came up, gently going to his companion's wrists. There he appeared to grip down lightly, but in reality he provided enough force to stop the shaking in an instant. Giving an apologetic look in the direction of his attacker, he then looked in the direction of Lora with a look on his face that almost seemed bashful, or perhaps even ashamed.
"Please, do not thank him. He only did what he could."With that, he let the woman's wrists go once again, fully prepared for the continued throttling.
Eventually, the group once more gathered together to its full size on the opposite end of the village. Most of the Sentinels were already waiting for them, having gone through the village with little incident. Cyril introduced the three new people coming along, but only did so briefly for the Wanderer and his travelling companion. Though Diane gave the Prince a very odd look, Cyril didn't seem to mind even as he didn't give their names, only saying,
"These two will be coming along with us to Gurata as well. Better to travel together at this rate." In contrast, Lora got a full introduction, and after a moment Ayano postively beamed with recognition.
"Lora?! You're kidding right?! Come here, it's been so long, come ride with me-" So on and so forth.
Whatever the Prince was thinking when it came to the other two though, no one verbally questioned his decision in that moment. Those who were not mounted proceeded to do so on their respective steeds, save for the Wanderer and the small woman, who had no horses; despite this, they did not seem too concerned about being able to keep up. Once more they took to the road, the villagers calling out their farewells to the Prince, the Sentinels, and their companions.
Slowly but surely the air began to turn colder the farther north they went. The land became less and less green and a little more grey, but the fields were still full of grass. As they travelled, they soon passed beyond the arch that had been the main target of the H'kelan soldiers, which curved from just above the western part of Barcean far to the south. The villages they began to see and pass through had been spared, and the farther north they went, the more it became apparent that no knowledge of the attack had reached these people at all.
For the most part they travelled nonstop, but towards the end of the day it became more and more apparent to the Prince that the delay in the first village they had stopped in made their journey suffer some in the matter of time. Thinking of alternatives to himself, he announced his decision of his shoulder, saying back so that everyone could hear,
"We're going to stop in the next village we come to. We'll buy whatever missing supplies we need for ourselves and those who have just joined us for Gurata. We'll stay the night there and move on in the morning." Cyril made the decision partly out of absolute necessity, but also keeping in mind the fact that Joy had requested a private conversation with him, and an inn room was certainly more private than in a camp.
The village came into view, and as they entered they once more received the familiar greeting given to the Prince and the Sentinels. Coming to a stop within briefly, Cyril gave orders to different members of the Sentinels, instructing them on the supplies they would need to survive in the northern lands. As they proceeded off in their own directions, Cyril proceeded forwards, with the inn in mind. Even as he went along, he tapped along the fingers of one hand as he mentally counted the number of beds they would need. Among those who went with the Prince was the Wanderer, who didn't seemed even slightly bothered by the long walk that had happened that day.
The inn was nice enough and was of decent size, which was very promising to the Prince considering the size of their group. After dismounting and handing off his reins to one of the stable hands, the Prince led the way into the inn, where he had to wait for a few moments for the clamor to die down before he was finally able to speak. With a kind, polite smile on his face, after his greeting he got straight to business:
"Fourteen beds in whatever rooms you can spare, please.""Just thirteen. He does not need a bed." The Wanderer suddenly chipped in from behind and to the side quietly, Cyril glancing to him briefly in slight confusion before shrugging slightly as he looked back to the inn keeper.
"Er... Thirteen, then."Outside the Village
While the Sentinels spread out through the village, two individuals approached the village from the west. Both were on horseback, travelling at an easy enough pace. One was a very tall man of nearly six and a half feet, with short blonde hair and circular glasses upon his face. His skin was somewhat tanned and he had a large, wide scar across his left cheek, almost like a heavy, thick triangle set into his flesh. He wore dark robes of mostly black that had gloves and heavy boots included. Along with the glasses which often gleamed with the light, his most eye-catching accessory hung around his neck as a silver chain and symbol, the symbol only able to be described as the empty space exposed in the rip or tear in a hypothetical piece of fabric.
The other was a young man, and though he certainly wasn't short, he was shorter than the older man by almost three fourths of a foot. Despite his clearly young age of nineteen years he had surprisingly grey hair that matched his eyes. The expression on his face was slightly irritated, and at least for the moment seemed to be consistent. His jacket and pants were dark, the shirt underneath the open jacket red, but the most interesting thing that he wore were on his hands and arms: he wore silver gauntlets, which were rounded and smooth. The sleeves of the jacket were pulled down over them, but they went all the way up to his elbows underneath it.
As they went along the man spoke to the younger without looking to him. His voice was one of practiced calm, even sounding experienced and knowing of the world, with the slightest of accents.
"Get into the village and get supplies. I'll take care of the problem."Once more in contrast, the younger's response was more than just a little brash, his frustration leaking through.
"Of course you would, Divinesdammit, when am I going get to get in on some action-""Watch yer tongue, boy, or I'll remove it." These words cut off the younger immediately, and though the general tone of the older seemed calm enough, something about the briskness of his words was like a razor slicing through the air. It was enough for the younger to startle slightly, before his scowl returned fully and he shrugged.
"Yeesh. Fine, whatever you say. Why didn't we take care of this problem the day before yesterday?""As I told ye, we had another calling to attend to. Do not feign ignorance of that." With that the man broke away from the younger without giving him a chance to respond. Quietly, the young man swore under his breath, making a vague rude gesture in the direction of the rapidly leaving elder even as he kept on his course to the village. By the time he did so the crowds had already been relatively dispersed after the appearance of the Sentinels, so he had no idea that anything was different from when he saw the village two days before.
He was recognized as he rode through the village, for after all grey hair like his was certainly distinctive. Of those who recognized him, the oldest and the youngest actually seemed pleasantly surprised by his reappearance. To them he actually polite smiled every so often, before his expression turned to one of indifference; the shift in expression went doubly so for whenever he passed by some of those that were neither younger nor older, who did not seem too pleased to see him. At the moment at least, he had the decency to ignore them, but that could change at any moment.
He went straight to one of the more general shops in the village, where he dismounted and left his horse unattended without a care to give. Within, he gave a nod to the store owner before he started to quickly browse the shelves, skimming through in order to find whatever was on the list of things that he knew they needed. It included everything from gauze to hardtack. It didn't help that he pulled everything from memory, rather than having some physical list, so there was no telling just how much he had truly forgotten; with as much as he doubled back for, one could assume a fair amount.
Izurich