The Calling: Beginnings (Part 1)

[Daccio]

She loped effortlessly alongside Rand and Bjorn as they moved through the forest. Her animal soul made short work of this, allowing her to move through the trees gracefully. Bright flashes of frames threaten to distract her, but Daccio keeps her vision peeled for any threats. She skidded to a halt next to Rand as a giant fire wolf blocked her path. Her eyes widened slightly, she had never seen anything like this.

"GET DOWN!" She suddenly heard Bjorn bellow. A quick glance back saved her as she Leaped to the left, getting out of the charging man's way. She would need to remember, that, he was very very aggressive. Not someone to anger lightly.

As she too a stance that would give her good balance should they come after her, she drew the two knives at her waist. Should the beasts come close, she would last out in counterattack, but Bjorn seemed more the front line fighter type.

[Radobe]

The tribesman’s arrow hits its mark and much to his surprise it passes through what he assumed were ash creatures. He sees the creatures scatter and vanish as soon as the arrow connects. Confused, the hunter inspects the ash covered patch of the forest, wondering what just happened.

"Ho there!  What's in those trees?  Can't say I've ever-"

The stranger’s words are interrupted by the sudden explosion of the dark patch. Dete barely manages to leap back and protect his eyes with his hands, causing him to fall on his back. He quickly scrambles up on his feet and finds himself looking at a few dozens of wolf shaped flames, scattering in every direction. Six of those advance on him. When wolfs hunt, they want their pray to run, to tire itself out, while they take turns chasing and conserve their strength. Dete’s instincts kick in and he holds his ground. Grasping his spear with both hands, he prepares to retaliate. One of the wolves lunges forward and attacks the hunter.  The lunging wolf is on the right side of the tribesman, he turns with all the speed he could muster and thrusts his spear into the creature’s head, while still trying to be vigilant of his exposed back.

[Kitharsis]

Bjorn finds his relentless attack to be fruitful.  The wolf on the left that caught his boot on the chin reeled backward, then darted to the side.  The central wolf dodges the overhanded chop of his axe, but the rightmost wolf is cut through with the length of his sword.  As the weapon leaves its fiery body the wolf falls apart into a pile of ash once more.

The central wolf counters and snaps at Bjorn with its jaws, but the berserker's unceasing attacks overwhelm the fiery beast.  It puts up a good show of dodging each blow until Bjorn's final wide spinning arc.  It is sliced in two, showering Bjorn in soot.

The leftmost wolf bursts from the woods to the side of Rand and Daccio.  Rand springs up to meet it midair, his twin short swords strike with two flashes of steel.  Ash rains down as he lands in a crouch.

More wolves pass by them, heading straight for what looks like a trade caravan on the other side of the woods.  It seems that the wagons are their primary target.  They will be overwhelmed in short order without assistance.

"We need to hold them off until Alec's platoon gets here."  Rand shouts, before taking off towards the wagons and their assailants.

----

Mitoli sits atop the wagon, aiming his crossbow at one of the flaming wolves.  Two ferocious roars break out on either side of him, causing him to nearly fall from his seat and drop his crossbow.  As he rights himself he finds Ragnar and Afanen covered in rock and flame.  The caravan leader slaps his leg and cheers.

"I pegged you both as Callers, I did!  Hey lad, what are you doing?  A caravan leader never leaves the wagons!  Don't you toss me in that blasted tree!"

"Oof!"

Mitoli lands in the branches, cranky and grumbling.  He refused to let go of his crossbow and he shimmies to get into a firing position.

While Ragnar still has his back turned from tossing Mitoli into the tree a fiery wolf has snuck up behind him.  The beast pounces, going for his neck.

Afanen's mighty swing of her war hammer connects into the skull of the rightmost wolf.  The fiery beast jolts to the side before exploding into a pile of ash.  The wolf on the left fares little better than his ashy friend.  It has little time to dodge as the heavy war hammer sails towards it.  The war hammer catches it on the shoulder, resulting in another explosion of ash that covers the burnt ground below.

As Afanen looks up from her successful attack, she sees even more wolves approaching her side of the wagons.  Their burning eyes all focus on her.

----

Jin's Inner Light works wonders on the oxen.  Their stamping feet settle, and the beasts fall into a state of calm regardless of the chaos swirling around them.

The wolf anticipates Jin's leap.  It crouches, preparing to leap and catch the boy midair before he has a chance to strike.  It pushes off with its hind legs, but before it leaves the ground it falters because of the Blinding Visage that flashes from the young monk's body.  Dazed, the wolf puts up no contest as Jin's bo slams down on top of it.  The bo his the ground as the wolf is split into two waves of falling black ash.

Now that Jin is on the ground he is open to attack.  More wolves circle, threatening to swarm the young monk.

----

Daccio finds the immediate threat gone, thanks to Bjorn.  Rand is concerned with the wagons, and takes off through the forest towards them.  It seems that the bulk of the wolves are focusing on the caravan.  There are stragglers wandering through the woods near them, but they haven't taken notice yet.

She needs to decide her next course of action before another pack notices her.

----

Dete is wise to hold his position.  Prey turns tail and runs, but a predator stands its ground.  Yet he is at a disadvantage from his back.  The lunging wolf did not anticipate his speed, and Dete's spear pierces through its open, flaming mouth.  The wolf explodes into a pile of ash that rains down on the hunter. 

The rest of the fiery wolves jump back and fan out after seeing the first wolf's demise.  They put distance between the hunter and themselves.  The wolves howl, shimmering the air in front of them with their hot breath.  Their howls draw the attention more fiery wolves nearby.  It is clear that Dete will not be easy prey.  The pack focusing on him nearly doubles in number.  The wolves' flames dance and flicker as they surround him.

[Daccio]

      She growled under her breath, and darted  into the forest growth off the game trail. Activating earthen stamina, she gave herself more strength so she could run faster and further. Her cloak sailed out behind her as she darted through the cover of the trees towards the caravan. She would not let these people perish, not with the gift she had to protect them. As she passed through a clearing, a Fire wolf move in to intercept her, lunging for her throat.
     
      Daccio dropped to one knee without hesitation. She had been trained to flawlessly react to surprise and it seemed that it was a very skill to have. The wolf's jaws snapped close where her throat had been, and in three quick, strikes, her knives lashed out, peircing it along the chest. It let out a yelp, then a growl as Daccio's momentum carried her forward into a roll. She sprang to her feet, turned to face the wolf and leaped immediately, aggressivly attacking even as the wolf lunged at her.
     
      She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and terror threatening to rise. Jerking to the left, the wolf slammed into her, it's jaws snapping shut where her head had been. With an upward strike, she rammed the dagger in its chest and with her other arm, a sideswipe, burrying the steel into the beasts neck. She jerked the knife and with a yelp, the creature exploded into ash.

      She tried to shake her nerves. That was the first time she had really fought and killed something. Oh, she had encountered theives and bandits before, but she was always able to get away with convincing them to walk away before it ever came to blows. Taking a deep breath, she know she could not let herself get distracted. She spun and darted off towards the caravan once more, cloak now billowing out behind her as she sprinted full force. It was hard to match her speed, her enhanced legs pushed her further and further and ate great strides of ground before she burst out of the woods before the caravan.

[Shadow Chorus]

Bjorn can hear nothing of the others. He doesn't hear any shouted orders or attempts to assist the caravan. All he sees are enemies before him, enemies he would slay. Taking a running start, he leaps and crashes into one Wolf, ignoring the flames that lick his body as he drives his sword into its throat, charging through the ensuing ash cloud into the next, shouldering it to the ground before stamping on its skull, showering ash all around him.

It seems he has gathered the attention of the wolves as a significant threat. A small group of them begin to circle around him, as if planning to overwhelm him. Bjorn would not give them that chance. Three more wolves. Three more piles of ash. They charged him at once, and he met them with a snarl and whirling steel. His axe embedded in one's skull and his blade sheathed itself in another's mouth. The third pounced on his back, its claws raking through the wolf pelt into the bare flesh of his shoulders, causing him to roar and drop his weapons reflexively.

Clenching his fists, he shoves the wolf off of his back and turns to pounce on it, locking his legs around its body as Bjorn rained repeated punches into its face, his clawed gauntlets tearing into its burning fur as Bjorn battered it to death, beating it until it was a pile of ash, and then beating the pile of ash until he collected himself enough to retrieve his weapons and roar a further challenge to any other wolves who would come to face him.

[Faidth]

   After tossing Mitoli up into the tree, Ragnar can sense the presence of an enemy behind him. As the creature lunges towards his throat, Ragnar puts his boxing skills to good use. His natural speed, thanks to his bear soul, allows him to deftly dodge away from the attack, and he follows with a well-placed right hook to the wolf’s head. Over the years, Ragnar’s fists, coupled with the exceptional strength granted to him by his bear soul, have become devastating weapons, capable of inflicting deadly blows with nearly perfect accuracy. The odds already in his favor, the rock armor that serves as a gauntlet upon Ragnar’s fist causes the damage to be even more devastating.

His fist slams into the head of the wolf and encounters no resistance. Ragnar flexes his fingers as they emerge on the other side of the wolf’s skull. With a shake of his arm, what is left of the wolf’s head sloughs off Ragnar’s bloody hand.

   As another group of wolves approaches Afanen, the smith is undaunted by the fact she is considerably outnumbered. There are four of them to one of her, yet her weapon is an extension of herself, and she wields it as if it was part of her physical being. The flames continue to engulf her body, dancing around her form in strangely elegant patterns.

Her warhammer held firmly in her hands, Afanen’s movements are fluid, yet powerful as she smashes the head of the hammer into the ribcage of the closest wolf. A second blow connects with the hind quarters of a second wolf, crippling the beast where it stands. Afanen’s foot slam’s into its spine as she lunges toward to strike a third wolf. She draws back her warhammer with such power that the force of the blow cuts the wolf in twain before slamming into the side of the final wolf in the fiery smith’s path.

[Radobe]

   Dete’s spear pierces the wolf and much to his surprise it explodes. In an instant, sparks flash everywhere and disappear, leaving behind only a pile of ash.  The surrounding wolfs quickly move back and put some distance between themselves and the hunter. After a howl, more wolfs join the pack surrounding the tribesman. That, however, was not the most important thing. The fact that the wolves stepped back, this is what was important. They have the mentality of a real wolf and this can be exploited to his advantage.

   The hunter is not a defensive fighter, if the wolves had rushed him they would have undoubtedly overtaken him, but now odds have shifted in his favor.  With offense serving him as the best defense, at the moment, Dete leaps forward and feints a thrust towards one of the wolves. The startled wolf jumps back only to be caught by the tribesman’s thrown spear, when he lands. Piercing the middle section of the wolf, the spear goes through effortlessly and impales the ground behind its victim, which explodes into a cloud of ash. Dete dashes forward and pulls out his spear.  Not letting his momentum go to waste, he darts towards one of the retreating wolfs and manages to strike him above his left hind leg. The creature whimpers and shortly after explodes. After taking a deep breath, the tribesman looks around and sees that the wolves have further increased the distance between him and them.

[Archdemon Stu]

Jin stares quizzically at his bo for a moment as the large wolf dissipates.  The feel of the blow was a strange one, and all that came from the wolf was black ashes.  However, now was not the time to contemplate exactly what these things were, and now he knew for certain they were not living beings.  As more wolves closed in, Jin's feet began to dance about, his bo flowing gracefully along with him as he completed the necessary forms.  The first wolf lunged, only to be plucked out of the air and turned to a cloud of dust behind the young monk.  Two more dived in, and Jin evaded backward effortlessly as they passed him, now pacing about looking for a second opportunity.

More came, and the monk maintained his calm.  He swatted at them with his staff, and dipped elegantly out of the path of their fiery fangs, maintaining a defensive stance.  The wolves were more clever than he anticipated, however.  Seeing Jin was busy, one began to seek out other prey.  Jin's eyes widened, "No you don't!" He lunged at the beast in order to scatter it to the winds.  His bo connected with the ground once more, and nothing but ash remained.

He let out a small yelp as he split his legs in order to duck an attack from behind, the fire of the wolf's belly close enough to burn what little stubble remained on his scalp.  He leaped back to his feet and turned to face any more attackers, and found four.  With a powerful kick, the monk flung a sandal from his foot into the beast's face, momentarily startling it long enough for a follow up attack.  More ashes scattered to the winds.  He planted his now bare foot down, and swung with all his might in a wide arc to meet two more attackers head-on as they sought to finish the boy with a pincer attack.  It was sloppy, but effective, and Jin's brightly colored clothes were turning grey with the ash of his attackers.  However, the wide swing left him wide open to attack from the front, and he had less than a moment to spare before the fires of the last wolf consumed him.  With the quickest movement he could manage, he raised an open palm in front of him and closed his eyes tightly...

Unlike the others, this wolf seemed to literally explode as a searing light exited its eyes and mouth.  It was instantaneous and far too difficult to see exactly what happened in that flash... or at least, Jin hoped so.

The entirely soot-coated Jin began to cough as though he'd lose a lung.  He coughed into his free hand, only then noticing he had burned his arm by using that technique on a creature made of fire.  He sighed, nearly cracking a smile, his hindsight getting the better of him.  "Not your wisest move, Jin..." Done lecturing himself for now, he drew his sleeve over the wound so nobody would notice its regeneration, and quickly went to check on Ragnar and Afanen.

[Kitharsis]

Two flashes of steel precedes another shower of ash as Rand sprints through the woods.  He clears the treeline with a leap and quickly scans the scene surrounding the wagons.  His eyes go wide as he watches the wolves get cut down by the many warriors.

Two of them are obviously Callers, their bodies covered in rock and flame.  A young man in dress he is not familiar with moves with surprising grace and agility.  A flash blinks from his body before he obliterates a wolf in front of him.

A tribesman far from his home is tearing into a huge pack of wolves on his own.  Surprisingly, he is pushing them back.  It would be a good bet that this man is a Caller as well.

Bjorn is also a Caller, and even thought Daccio hasn't shown many signs, she is probably one too.  It is too early to tell yet whether such a large group of Callers is a good omen, but he is staying optimistic for the time being.  One thing is for sure, this small string of wagons wouldn't have stood a chance without such a gathering.

----

Mitoli fires a bolt at a wolf that wanders too close to his leafy perch.  The bolt sticks in the ground with a pile of ash falling around it.  He is still grumbling about leaving his wagons as he pulls another bolt from his quiver.

"Seems my luck is still holding out..."  He says to himself as another bolt flies from his crossbow.  "If we ever make it to Yond I owe everyone a few rounds of ale, especially that hunter fella."

He pulls back the strings of the crossbow and locks them into place.  With a steady hand he places a bolt into position and aims at another wolf as it charges by.  Before he can fire, a mass of shiny breastplates and glinting blue shields round the corner.  A man with long black hair and a goatee is at the front with his sword and shield drawn.  The soldier points his longsword forward, and a half dozen archers behind him let their arrows fly.  Six of the fiery wolves explode into ash as the arrows hit their mark.

"Whats this now?  A small army!"  Mitoli cheers as the platoon surges through the battlefield.

The fiery wolves howl and bark as their numbers are mercilessly cut down.  A few of the soldiers cry out as they are lashed by claws and fiery teeth.  The wolves are outmatched, and the combined forces of the Callers and the soldiers stamp out the last of the flames.  Those that have not been struck down by the Callers meet a quick end by the soldiers' long swords and arrows.  A few wolves take off into the woods only to be caught by Bjorn's axe and sword, and Daccio's knives.

The area surrounding the wagons is covered in ash.  The last traces of the fiery wolves has been snuffed out, and the country road returns calm.  The platoon of soldiers are all breathing heavily.  Most are taking a knee or outright sitting down for exhaustion.  Alec is checking on each of them, noting a few that have suffered burns from the scuffle. 

Mitoli is busy sliding down the tall tree he was tossed into.  He lands hard on his butt, and finally gives up and just lies on his back.

"Unbelievable."  He mutters, as he stares at the sky.

Alec, satisfied that his soldiers are in good shape, walks towards the wagons.  His second in command walks next to him with her weapons still drawn.

"What in the blazes happened here?"  He calls.

"Fire!"  Mitoli shouts from his back.  He sits up and attempts to dust the ash off of his clothes.  Finding it hopeless he shakes his head and continues.  "A damn pile of ashes exploded in the trees just over there."  He points to the dark copse of trees with his chin.  "Next thing ya knew there were near a hundred of those flaming wolves tearing through.  They were after the wagons."

Alec, having made is way to the seated Mitoli, extends his hand and helps the caravan leader to his feet.

"I'm Alec, guard captain of Keep Yond.  We have been hunting a beast that has been attacking trade wagons.  It seems we arrived just in time."

"Aye, Alec.  I'm Mitoli, and this is my caravan.  My guards and that hunter fella were holding them off well enough, but I'm glad you lot came around."

Mitoli frowns.  "I'm not sure if we're in the clear yet.  These things just fell to ash.  Could be more of them out there."

"I'm aware of that, Mitoli.  But for now we need to get you and your wagons to safety.  When you are ready we will escort you back to the keep." 

"Aye," Mitoli nods in thanks. 

The caravan leader shuffles over to Ragnar, pointing a finger accusingly.  "Next time leave me to my wagon!  I ain't yellow enough to turn tail and hide in a tree!"  He glances over at the seat on his wagon. 

A pile of ash covers it along with a few scorch marks.  Mitoli shudders at the sight.  "Hmph...  Thanks lad, I suppose you did save my bacon from the frying pan." 

After Ragnar's response, Mitoli calls out to Dete.  "Hey there lad, I owe you a great deal for sticking your neck out like that.  Please, come join us for the trip to town."

Mitoli hops back onto his wagon and inspects the oxen.  He stares at the animals for a moment, clearly pondering something.  With a shrug he lets it go.

"You did very well, Afanen and Ragnar.  And Jin, you surprised the heck out of me with that bo.  Very impressive, lad."  He rubs his chin thoughtfully.  "Now, we'll talk about your Calling later, you two.  In the meantime, is anyone hurt?"

----

Rand sheathes his short swords.  He is still posted at the side of the forest, watching as the caravan and the soldiers unwind from the melee.

"It's over, guys."  He calls into the woods for Bjorn and Daccio.  More quietly he says, "There are an awful lot of Callers here.  The two caravan guards are Callers, and I'm not sure that the hunter and the young monk aren't Callers too."

He motions for them to follow him toward the resting soldiers.  "As rare as Callers are, this is a very large gathering of them.  I'm not much for omens and all that silliness, but I can't shake the feeling that..."  He trails off.  "Just be ready for anything."

[Faidth]

Ragnar chuckles as Mitoli waggles his finger at him. “No one would ever accuse you of hiding, sir! You weren’t hiding! You were thrown! Totally different!” Ragnar claps Mitoli on the back. “Besides, Mitoli you are not merely my employer. I have come to regard you as a friend and certainly weren’t about to take any chances of the caravan being burnt to a crisp or the oxen taking off with you upon it!”

Ragnar stamps his foot upon the ground and the sheets of rock that encase his body swiftly fall away and are promptly reabsorbed into the dirt. Simultaneously, Afanen dispels the flames that envelop her form. She is silent and her gaze watchful as she observes the others in this area.

   “Seems we aren’t the only Callers here. I don’t know if I believe in coincidence,” she says just loud enough only Ragnar can hear.

   “What do you think those wolves were?” ask Ragnar. “Seems like something you’d do. Maybe someone with a fire gift?”

   Afanen shrugs. “Could be. Whoever was controlling those beasts did not seem to be after the goods upon the caravan. Why send creatures that could potentially burn up the spoils? The motive was destruction. You heard that guard captain. There have been other attacks on trade caravans as of late.”

   “If it was another Caller, do you think he or she knew we would be here?” questions Ragnar.

   “Not sure, Raggi. Only thing I’m sure about is I could certainly go for a pint when we get to Keep Yond.” Afanen notices Jin a few steps away. “You alright, Jin?”

   Ragnar scoops the monk into a big bear hug, lifting him so high the young man’s legs dangle in the air. “Of course he’s alright, Fan!” Ragnar places Jin back on his feet. “Did you see him? He moves like lightning with that bo of his!”
 

[Shadow Chorus]

Bjorn calms himself from his battle rage in stages. In a few minutes he manages to calm from roaring and frothing to seething, to breathing heavily, and finally back to his normal calm self. He relaxes his grip on his weapons and takes a deep breath, looking at the ring of ash around him. He turns to look at Rand as he speaks to the two of them and nods quietly at his words, following to the rest area.

Striding to the emptiest place in the resting zone, Bjorn sits down, crosses his legs, pulls the wolf's head over his eyes, and rests. The claw marks on his back slowly bleed, though they don't seem to be too dangerous a wound. The edges of them are slightly scorched from the wolf's fiery skin, and the blood flows down his back at a trickling pace, though he seems to ignore the apparent pain of the wounds. They don't appear very deep, though the pain they cause must be significant if only for the sheer area of the lacerations, but Bjorn seemed numb to it, meditating quietly while the blood dripped from his back.

The flow already seemed to be slowing, though it would be some time before the wounds themselves healed. In the end, they would serve as yet more scars in the Berserker's collection.

[Archdemon Stu]

  Jin turns the corner around the wagons, suppressing his aura once more and hiding his golden eyes.  He thanked the powers of the universe that allowed Afanen and Ragnar to be relatively unharmed from such an assault, and let out a sigh of relief.  Then, he noticed Mitoli inspecting the cattle.  Jin gulped, but his nervous approach was soon interrupted by Afanen's kind words of concern, and shortly after, a bear hug the likes of which only Ragnar could deliver.

  He laughed as his feet left the ground, his white teeth showing brightly from under his soot-covered face.  His laughter stopped suddenly though as he looked on, seeing the wounded soldiers that had come to their aid.  His feet touched the ground once more as Ragnar released him, and Jin bowed humbly.  "Your praise is truly too much.  I'm afraid all my 'lightning' fast moves can be very exhausting... I think I'll go and have a seat for a moment, and meditate on the events that transpired.  I have so many questions, but for now... I'm just glad you three are well." He giggled lightheartedly, "Not that I was worried, of course!" Though he was smiling as he usually does, something about Jin's pace and mannerisms seemed... off; almost evasive.  With a pat on Ragnar's shoulder, and a wave to Afanen and Mitoli, Jin made his way to where the soldiers rested.

  Having found a suitable spot that would no doubt tend to the most soldiers possible, Jin sat, and closed his eyes.  He let his inner light spring forth and flow out from within, his eyes glowing faintly under his eyelids.  No doubt it was dangerous for him to attempt to heal their wounds in such a manner, but Mitoli raised a fine point.  There could be more out there, and Jin could not sit idly by while these brave men suffered.  Should battle be met again, they would be ready.

[Daccio]

She falls in behind rand as they move through the forest, watching Bjorn move on ahead. She spoke to him quietly as the moved, making sure her hood was situated and her hair was still tucked back in so no one saw it. She was amazed at how open these other callers were. She would not get so positive a reaction where she had come from. Her father had figured out what she was and had sent her on her way and it was why she wore the tattoos on her arms and chest.

"The fight in the daylight, open for all to see, i have never seen callers do such a thing. I knew one once, but he stayed to the darkness so others did not know him, and protected our realm from threats by shadow..." She frowned at remembering him. It still hurt how he had abandoned her.

"Oh well, it is over now" she nodded as they stepped out onto the road, surveying the scene. She spotted Bjorn sitting across the way. Frowning at the blood oozing from his wounds, she slipped past Rand and moved across the road. She moved over to Bjorn, kneeling next to him.

"Well, you never answered my question earlier, but i suppose what happened back there proves it, you are a caller. Are you okay?" She asked "It looks like you can help yourself a bit, but do you need anything?" She was speaking quietly, her voice only a buzz to those away from the two.

[Radobe]

   Dete’s battle with the wolves was at a standstill. The animals were on the defense and he was about to take the fight to them yet again, right before howling and barking came from the direction of the caravan. Distracted, the wolves proved to be an easy prey for the hunter. He quickly dispatches a few more before the platoon swooped in and wiped them out completely.

   After retrieving his bow, the hunter goes back to the black patch of the forest where all this began. He looks for any traces or clues, which may give him information of how everything happened. The tribesman is looking for any lingering smell or something out of order, through the ash covered trees and bushes. Finally he checks the surrounding paths for any indication of an unknown presence having been there. The horde of burning wolves would have probably destroyed any such clues, if there were any to begin with, but the hunter gives it a shot regardless.

   "Hey there lad, I owe you a great deal for sticking your neck out like that.  Please, come join us for the trip to town."

   Dete goes to the group, stands in front of Mitoli and looks at him. The difference in size between the two men is clearly seen. “Yes I will join you. The road ahead could hold more dangers.” He takes a few steps around and makes a note of all the interesting looking people, than looks at Mitoli again. “You owe me nothing. Should you wish to repay me, simply offer help to those in dire need, the same way I helped you. That would be payment enough.” Even though his words seem kind, the way the man speaks gives them a cold and emotionless feeling.  His accent and his expressionless face, give off a weird vibe around the man.

[Faidth]

   Ragnar and Afanen exchange glances as Jin takes his leave of them. During the time they have spent with him, they have come to know a bit about his mannerisms. Though Ragnar has an inkling something is amiss, Afanen has always been the more perceptive of the two.

   “Something’s wrong,” speaks Afanen with a frown. “He puts on a good show, but something is off.”

   Ragnar nods. “Is it just me, or did he seem surprisingly… alright with what just happened here. I know Jin isn’t exactly your typical teenager, but most kids I know would be a bit unnerved by all that.” Ragnar sniffs the air in Jin’s direction. “He doesn’t smell afraid.”

   “It’s not fear,” states Afanen.

   “Want me to talk to him?” asks Ragnar.

   Afanen shakes her head. “Whatever is on his mind, I’m sure he’ll tell us when he’s ready. I wouldn’t press him about it.”

   Ragnar watches intently as Mitoli converses with the strange tribesman, the one who had shot the arrow. “What do you make of him?”

   Afanen shrugs. “Seems selfless enough… if but a bit distant. At least the sentiment is there.”

   “I’m going to go talk to him.”

   Afanen groans. “Really, Ragnar? He’s a perfect stranger. Think about everything that’s just happened. Don’t you think we should be a bit more wary of strangers?”

   Ragnar chuckles. “You, always the worrier. Strangers are only strange because you haven’t met them yet.” Ragnar lumbers towards the tribesman and grins widely as he offers a polite nod of acknowledgement. “Hello, sir. Ragnar Thorburn. Pleased to make your acquaintance. You uh… well, you don’t look or sound like you’re from around… well, anywhere I’m familiar with, not that I’m all that well-traveled. I’m one of Mitoli’s guards. That fetching young woman over there is my friend Afanen.”

   Afanen offers a polite wave.

   “What brings you this way?” asks Ragnar with a smile. Dete can easily tell that Ragnar seems very outgoing, approachable and friendly, while his companion eyes Dete warily, her gaze keen and observant. While her expression is not unfriendly, she seems far more cautious and reserved than her affable counterpart.

Afanen glances towards the piles of ash at her feet. She reaches into her pack and carefully extracts a small glass vial. She snatches a nearby stick off the ground and uses it to scrape a bit of the ash in a vial. She's not sure where these creatures came from, but perhaps their remnants may somehow be helpful in tracking their true point of origin.

[Shadow Chorus]

"I'm fine. The pain helps me focus." Bjorn says, lifting the wolf's head to look at Daccio. "But thank you for your concern." The Viking takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling softly.

"You saw me during the heat of battle. I still don't remember all of it. I pray to Óðinn for control because I fear I may lose myself to the rage. More than once I have injured someone I call friend in the heat of fury. It's best you do as the soldiers do, and give me a wide berth."

There was a hollowness in his eyes, carved out from the loneliness of travelling alone for so long in the harsh wintery north. He almost seemed to be looking past Daccio, at some distant event on the horizon. He has consigned himself to being alone, in order to prevent his power from injuring more allies.

"The wound is not deep, you need not worry. It will heal in time. The wolf's claws burned as they struck, so there is no fear of infection." He says, pulling the wolf's head back over his eyes. The blood slowly began to pool behind him, but the flow was slowing down, and soon would stop altogether as the blood clots over the wound.

[Daccio]

She nods at his words.

"Well, so long as you are not going to bleed out right here, but I suspect a warrior does not last long if he or she is easy to kill."  She laughed quietly "I suspect callers are quite hard to kill though"

She stood, turning to face the rest of the caravan, to see what was going on.

She glanced to the soldiers and then to the others, taking them all in.

[Radobe]

Dete looks at the broad shouldered man walking towards him. Until now he had not seen a whole face turn into a smile.

“Hello, sir. Ragnar Thorburn. Pleased to make your acquaintance… What brings you this way?”

Dete looks at the man’s grinning face, than at the woman at the back. Without diverting his gaze he responds with a monotone voice. “I am Dete na Plemeto, it is a pleasure as well. Call me Dete if you would prefer,” the hunter looks at Ragnar now.  “I come from the far west, you would not have heard of my people, even if you were well traveled.  As for a purpose…” The tall man looks around, looking at every one in the area. After a few more seconds of thinking he replies. “There is none. I go where my feet take me.” A sudden movement of the eyebrows of his emotionless face indicates the occurrence of a thought, which had not crossed his mind until now. “Hunting… yes, hunting would be the closest thing to a purpose. I am always looking for a good hunt.” The hunters face quickly returns to normal. “What of you? What is your purpose?”

[Faidth]

“Dete.” Ragnar repeats the name as if to commit it to memory. “Well, we are quite fortunate you were here! Between your quick reactions and Afanen’s keen eye, I think we were able to keep Mitoli’s excellent luck intact.”

“Well, I can certainly relate to following one’s feet. That’s what Afanen and I have been doing for quite some time now. We’ve been vagabonds of sorts, little direction, just going wherever the roads take us. We had to… make a hasty retreat from our homelands, and our sole purpose has been putting as much distance between there and us as possible.”

“A hunter, you say? Certainly a noble pursuit. Afanen and I have done a bit of hunting in our time, though we’re likely amateurs compared to you. Admittedly, I have spent most of my life in the woods, so observing the comings and goings of beast and man are second nature. I suppose… I suppose when you get right down to it, everybody is hunting for something.”

“As for my purpose…” Ragnar thinks on this for a moment and casts a glance back to Afanen who is sifting through piles of ash for lord knows what purpose. She always seemed to be a step ahead of him. “I have followed a single purpose for as long as I can remember.” He blushes slightly and quickly returns his gaze to the tribesman in front of him. “I like to think it a noble purpose, and I will follow it to the ends of the earth and the last of my days.”

Ragnar glances over towards Jin, who appears to be in one of his meditative states, eyes closed and sitting in silence. “That’s Jin.” He directs Dete’s attention to the young monk. “He’s another member of our company, and as good a young man as they come. He’s doing his… uh…” Ragnar gestures with his hand towards Jin’s form. It’s obvious he has little knowledge to account for what it is Jin is doing. “Well… uh… he’s doing whatever it is Jin does. Perhaps when we get to Keep Yond you’ll join us in the tavern. I’m sure you have plenty of interesting tales to tell of your journeys, and we’d love to hear them!”

[Kitharsis]

As Dete inspects the dark patch of trees only the smell of burnt ash reaches his nose.  He can tell that the trails around the area have been vacant for at least a week.  The wildlife has been staying away, sensing the danger.  As Dete lingers in the area, an ominous feeling is slowly working its way into the back of his mind.  It is as if something is watching him intently.  Mitoli calls out to him, and as the hunter leaves the dubious patch of woods the ominous feeling fades.

Mitoli waves off Ragnar's comments about friendship and caring about him.  The caravan leader hasn't ever been one for outright sappiness, but you can tell by his demeanor that he would agree with the sentiment.

Mitoli greets Dete from atop the wagon with a smile, and nods vigorously when the tribesman agrees to accompany them to Keep Yond.  Upon Dete's comments of owing him nothing, Mitoli scoffs.

"Nonsense lad!  Of course I will always help fellow travelers, no matter how great or small the need.  Rules of the road, and all that."

Ragnar introduces himself and Afanen, and Dete does the same.  Mitoli watches the exchange with interest. 

His smile curls his thick mustache at the mention of the tavern.  "Of course he will be joining us!  I owe him a pint and a good meal.  Actually, I owe all of you!"

Afanen finds that the ash she has scraped into the vial is still slightly warm to the touch.  Her fingers tingle for half of a moment, just short enought to second guess if it actually happened.  Peculiar.

"Get your things together, Alec will want to make for town soon."

----

Bjorn strides past Rand and takes a seat off by himself.  Rand watches the berserker for a moment, waiting to see if he is going to burst into flames again.  It seems that he is just meditating.

Daccio's comment about how open the Callers are with their abilities seems to strike a chord with Rand.  He quirks an eyebrow at her thoughtfully.

"That struck me too, Daccio.  Most Callers go to great pains to hide their nature, for fear of retribution."  He glances at Bjorn again.  "I have heard of cities where they persecute Callers, hunt them even."  He gives the girl a reassuring smile.  "Alec seems to tolerate Callers.  I don't think they will have anything to worry about at Keep Yond."

Rand barely notices as she slips away to ask after Bjorn.  As he sees her walking towards the berserker he wonders just when she left, and if she even heard what he said.

He doesn't spend much time wondering, as the young man in the unfamiliar dress catches his eye.  He is sitting in the middle of a group of soldiers.  They don't seem to mind him there, quite the contrary.  The soldiers close to him seem more healthy, their wounds closing and much quicker than they have a right to.  Any doubt that Rand had that this young man is a Caller has vanished.

----

"I know that Kate."

"Then why are we still sitting here?  We need to get back to Yond."

Alec taps the hilt of his sheathed sword with his thumb.  The chainmail glove clinks against the metal pommel with each tap.  Kate, his second in command, glances down at his hand after a particularly loud clink.

"The troop manning the gates won't hold out long if the beast decides to attack while we are gone.  It's clearly not here.  None of these blasted things left a body."

"I know that too, Kate."  Alec replies, still tapping.  Clink... Clink... Clink...

"And where the hell is Emery?"

The clinking stops, Alec's thumb halts in midair.  His head jerks to look down the road the way they came. 

"That fool!"

Almost like clockwork, a lanky man hobbles around the corner.  His crossbow has half of its strings snapped, and his quiver is empty save for one lonely bolt.  It circles the hard leather quiver with each labored step.

"Light save us, what happened to him?"  Alec asks.

"He doesn't look burnt.  More dusty than anything."  Kate replies.

With one last clink of his thumb, Alec trots over to the limping innkeep.  He takes the broken crossbow from him and gives him a shoulder to lean on as he leads him toward the rest of the platoon.

"Twisted my damn ankle."  Emery says, the angst filling his words previously now gone.  "Did you kill the damn thing at least?"  He groans.

Alec eases him down on a patch of grass and lets him get situated before responding.

"No.  This was some sort of trap.  These things were attacking the traveling wagons when we got here.  We are going to escort them back to town."  Alec responds.

"Back to town?"  Emery seems on the verge of bursting, but the rage building in his eyes quickly fades.  A defeated look washes over him as he hangs his head.  "I suppose that's fine.  I'll need a ride back anyway.  Can't hardly walk as it is."

"I'm sure Mitoli will oblige."  Clink.

--

Emery gets situated on the second wagon in the caravan.  It's the least Mitoli can do, he says.  The caravan leader is in such high spirits after making it through that scuffle that you'd think he would promise the moon if asked.

Alec rouses his surprisingly well recovered troops, and lets everyone else know that they will be moving out soon.

"If we leave now we should get to Keep Yond just before dark."