RP:Blasted Plains and Blazing Pains
Summary: Ranok finds Kanna on the outskirts of Rynvale during an intermission from her fights. He gives her a scolding on the notion that the barren plains, or anything for that matter, can be "saved", but a forest fire gives them the opportunity to save something else, and perhaps get them on the right footing with one another.
The Deadlands, or the Blasted Plains, or, if you were the straightforward type, the Dragon's Waste, was a slight misnomer. Only slightly. On the surface, it was a blasted, dry expanse. Yellow scrub, somehow even more dead looking in the mild Rynvalian winter, sparsed throughout, hugging close to stones for their shelter. The bravest plants of all were shrubby bushes, dried and brittle. The harsh sun and wind were not the true culprits of the desolation, however. It was what the plains were often named after that were the true villains. In their hunting, the dragons flew over the plains underneath, seeking prey. Any that ran could be swooped down upon. Any that hid would be burned out. Over time, the land was turned to ash. New growth that tried to take root was in turn reduced to nothing, and the wind took it to more fertile lands. In the end, only the small bastions remained. What it meant was that the faint smell of something burning pervaded the entire plain, a subtle reminder that the land was about as kind as it appeared. But tonight it seemed stronger. The scent of something burning drifts over the wastes, carried on a steady and calm wind. This would not be overly alarming if not for the fact that it was still the winter season, where most of what remained was dried and awaiting the cleansing rains of spring. Too close to the town and it would be a hazard. It was, that. Closer to the port there was more life and foliage, and something burning might mean a dragon close to town. A lone figure, tall, dark, and ugly, stood on an overlook, a slightly cragged slab of stone that jutted from the ground, eyes surveying the horizon. The full moon meant he was in good relief, but held so still it seemed he was of the stone itself.
Kanna had seen the wastelands for herself when she had arrived; how could she not when it seemed to surround the entirety of the settlement? The forgotten stories that were to be found in the Rynvalian library could barely hold her attention in contrast to the barren lands. The gift of a dryad was imbibed in her mana, surely she should have been able to make the lands at least somewhat hospitable again for the wildlife. As she stepped out towards the unusual trees, seeing the birds clustered together in the barren branches for warmth, the smell of something burning came to attention. In the moment, she thought not too much of it; perhaps someone had started a campfire for which to cook, or perhaps it came from one of the stone chimneys from the port below. The figure standing on the overlook is also unnoticed with how still he stands. The bardess kneels in the moonlight, and sings a soft lullaby to a shriveled bush. Ashen branches begin to shudder before raising themselves up towards the moonlight. Leaves begin to sprout, and the skeleton of a bush is soon made lush and welcoming to the birds, who give out loud calls to alert others nearby while they fly down and disappear into the foliage. A few emaciated rodents also emerge from beneath the roots to take shelter. The bright green of the bush is a stark contrast to the rest of the landscape, and the freckled girl smiles at her work, though it seems to have taken some energy from here. "Isn't that better?" A whispered question as one of the birds allows its small head to be pet with one finger.
Ranok behaves as if struck. Head snaps around towards Kanna, body posture stiffened and rigid. Hands that formerly resided in pockets free themselves, but draw no weapons. His left hand was held, oddly, at a stronger angle then his right, fingers completely splayed and palm flat. Almost as if he expected a weapon to drop into its grasp. Or something else, perhaps. Most striking, perhaps, might be his eyes. As his face cuts through the moonlight, the hat casting a shadow until just the right angle as his face turns, something glints. Just for a moment his eyes shone in a glowing yellow. The exact same as if a lantern had been flashed onto the eyes of a wolf. As quickly as it'd come, it was gone, and his face basked in the shadow of his hat. A long moment, and no admission that she'd somehow managed to sneak up on the fuzzy eared bastard. Posture relaxes just a tad and the left hand drops slightly, "Oh, it's you, girl.". Over his shoulder, in a surreptitious fashion, those three lights give a gentle flare, as if peeking over behind his back. Boot turns on the rock, metal on stone grinding against the other, as the rest of his body follows his head to fully face Kanna, "Why are you sneaking out here at night? There are dangers that lurk." A moment and he glances at her work, confusion drawing on his poorly lit features, "...and apparently, starting a garden." Then, suspicion, "Just what are you doing out here?"
You is, for good reason, alarmed when the motionless figure turns out to have motion in it. Caught between a gasp and a yell, she can only make out an awkward yelp, promptly sending the fauna scattering away. She holds her arms out as if she's about to do some kind of fighting technique that would vaguely resemble self-defense. The glint of yellow is caught and for the briefest of seconds, is reflected in her own softly lit sapphire eyes. The light fades, and it leaves her facing the moonlight and the familiar shadowed man, though she has somehow inched around the bush as if it could protect her. A familiar voice, and she is reminded of the sour-tempered not-lycan that had given her the lovely flower for her assistance. "You again." She says after a beat of silence between the two. The sound of metal and stone grating does little to the human ear from such a distance, and she runs a hand through her curls, where a fine layer of ash and sand fall from her hair and back onto the ground they belong. "The animals and children on this island seem to be ill, I presumed it would be from the lack of foliage here; after all, you need much more nature than the decorative trees down there. I thought perhaps I could try to use my magic to help, somewhat..." She says the last part as if its a question, averting her gaze from him.
Ranok wasn't in a terrible mood, as luck would have it. But it was hard not being intimidating when you were him. Slowly, he approaches, "Sick? My island?". He sounded almost offended. Now he was frowning, "Sick...? Rynale is strong." A hand settles on a hip, "You would have Rynvale be like the other cities? Strife with war?" A snort, "Larket picking fights to annex countries it ignores." Larket had, in a show of aggression, annexed Kregus and caused civil war to brew. "Frostmaw enveloped in civil war." A queen, abdicated, and giants rebelling. "And Cenril plunging itself into barbarism." The lack of any strong leadership had caused Cenril to become a haven for the criminal underground, ripe for plunder. As the smith spoke, each city listed was another step closer. And a slight rise of tone, something slumbering deep within him stirring, stoking furnaces best left unkept. "And to say nothing of more recent developments." A long pause. Eyes fixated on Kanna, so undeserving of the ire that threatened to pour forth. And, like a light being snuffed out, he snaps control onto himself. A sharp turn and a protest of something metallic under his feet, and he's walking back to the edge of the cliff, "The lands cannot be saved by small kindnesses and a bush, I am sorry to say. But that does not mean you should not try." The wind blows stronger, causing the duster around him to flutter, like a thing alive. A head turns back towards Kanna, and he adds, "And I do like the decorative trees, I hope you know." A hand extends outwards, towards the deadened plains, "The whole isle is not like this. North lies the remnants of an Empire, long left to dust. As the bastard should be. But..." A hand tilts slightly towards the north east, "A living forest lays that way. The trees so ancient that they outlive most elves." A snort, "Not that they'd admit it." And then a swing strongly to the west, "Over the mountains lies more life. A forest steeped in fog. And my gardens." It almost seemed like he was trying to be nice. Perhaps as if apologizing for the near outburst.
You bites her lip when he raises his voice, keeping her eyes focused on the small outcrop of foliage before her, where a thin squirrel cautiously makes its way back from the dried tree roots. If he were to glance her way, he may notice a frustrated tear or two fall onto the yellowed grass. She extends a hand to the little creature and lifts him for Ranok to see. "If that is true, that there are fertile lands around this area, then is it not clear that their greenery need to be brought closer? Life is only failing in this area, and I believe that the dragons that reside here are only partly to blame." She lets out a sigh of resignation, releasing the small creature and fishing out a handful of dried berries from a pocket that it takes eagerly. She places one of the brighter looking berries into a crevice in the ground, which is followed by a low song. Sure enough, a mulberry bush begins to flower. After a pause, she finally says, "I like the decorative trees as well. Whoever built the city did not forget the beauty of nature completely." At the mention of the gardens, she looks over to him, wiping her eye with the back of her hand. "Is that where you took your collection to?"
Ranok turns towards her again, "You're one strange one." The lights seem to agree, as they were drifting beyond the smith now, hovering somewhere near the bush she'd restored. "You think this can just be fixed?" A hand waves out towards the plains, "That all this place needs is a savior? Some magic to just fix it up?". He was mixed with consternation. Kanna's innocence mixed with her wide eyed intent to help was not an easy thing to deal with, and he barely knew her. "The world isn't like that, girl. There's no fairy tales! Things have reason and motion to them. What you try to fix does not always need fixing." Once more he was striding towards Kanna, though it wasn't with the quiet rage he held underneath the surface as before. Bending down, left fingers reach out to grasp. Without effort, the mulberry bush is ripped from the crevice she grew it into. "Look." His other hand was pointing at where she'd grown it. If she'd quailed, he'd be adamant. "The ground.". Where she'd caused the bush to bloom was nothing but a crack in the stone. Some soil had gained purchase, but it was still just a crack. "Anything you grow here is doomed to death. The ground itself is barren. It's not a simple matter that could just be fixed with some weird magic." The bush is dropped and he moves to the edge of the outcropping, "And look here.". With no preamble, he simply steps off the outcropping. While the fall was not extreme, it was still over about 12 feet, and he disappears with the sound of displaced air that smelled strongly of smoke. When Kanna catches up to him, however she chose, he'd have a slab of flat rock levered up, showing a small burrow of lizards. Sleepy with the cool air of the winter, they weren't much in the business of moving around. "If you make the land verdant, these die. They cannot survive moisture and the green of the forests you might find in Kelay. Is your idea of life better then this creature's reality?"
You gingerly reaches out for the lights around the bushes before they retreat to Ranok's approaching figure. At his questions, she can only give feeble stutters. "Not a savior-- It's not just--" The raised voice does not make her shed more tears, but there is a definite flinch in how she closes her eyes with each enunciated word. The man disappears and with a panicked cry, she looks down over the edge to where he has levering up the slab. After a bit of struggling to climb down the part of the wall with the most incline, she looks at the little reptiles forlornly. Only the plight of the birds and the remaining wild rodents here were known to her; she had not known that anything else had survived here. There is a moment of silence, and she realizes that his question was not rhetorical. Nimble fingers pinch and pull at the sleeves of her tunic in some sort of nerve-easing habit. "No." The freckled girl says it with the same sad intonation as a child having to admit that they've done something wrong. "But nothing should have to be suffering. How can it be that both the mammals and the reptiles of this area cannot live together?" The stench of smoke only becomes more pungent during this exchange. Only if they were to look up at the moon would they see the ashen clouds beginning to obscure the light.
Ranok carefully puts the stone back, surprisingly gentle. No lizards were harmed. "What I am saying," without the decency to be out of breath since the artificial arm did all the work, "is that this world is bigger then you realize. There is life here. Is is not as you may think. Life is this...tenacious thing that grips and squeezes where ever it can." Rock settles and he dusts off his hands, careful to make sure his fleshy hand was not impacting the other but only brushing. Too many bruised palms learning not to do that particular little quirk. "I see your wide eyed idealism and I can see it will get you killed. Life is suffering, girl. That is what it is." He gestures out towards the waste, "And this is part of it. You see things dying and seek to stop it. Admirable. But wrong. Your scope is wrong, your understanding poor." He's walking close to Kanna now, those dangerous eyes of his locked onto her. It almost begged the question of why he was bothering with any of it. It'd have been easy to ignore her on the ridge above. "You are not wrong to try, girl. Only in the application." The words, surprisingly gentle, a file on the harsh edge of his previous ones. "You'll kill yourself if you fight every battle that can be fought without regards. See the wastes? Even if you made this whole area flower for a mile around, killing yourself in the process, the environment itself would turn against the vegetation, striking it back down." As he laid out these words of wisdom to Kanna, something was happening. The thick clouds overhead became darker and heavier, the smell of ash turning heavier, flakes drifting now and again. Ranok was insulated from their touch, his hat and thick duster shrugging them off, layers of protection leaving him insensate, but perhaps Kanna wasn't so insulated from the world. But most of all, behind Ranok, in a stretch of distance where a thick cluster of shrubby trees and bushes, as close to a bastion of life that could be found here, a flickering, wavering light orange in color and slowly, hungrily, growing.
You gives a slight cough as the smith monologues. Odd, the campfire must be directly below them, though her eyes scanning the floor of the next fall below see no light. "I am well aware that life is suffering." She comments quietly, her gaze unmoving from where the lizards now lay nested. "That is why I do not want to see things other suffer. If I am injured in the process, then it is fine as long as I have done something for another." The smoke stings at her eyes and she winces, lowering her head. "Ow, that way, at least..." Kanna trails off, her gaze lifting up and focusing on the light in the distance behind him. The bits of orange are reflected with the ivory moonlight in her eyes. "Fire." The only word that she can make out with the thousands of worst-case scenarios suddenly buzzing through her head. "It-- it's going towards the Shrines!" Her voice raises in pitch from the panic and she coughs again when the wind blows the cloud of smoke into the rocky semicircle. "We have to get down, we have to go!" With (surprising to any who do not know her upbringing) practiced skill, she ties a handkerchief around her mouth and pinches it to go over her nose. A splash of water to dampen the cloth from a thermos on her bag, and she holds out the thermos to Ranok to do the same.
Ranok regards her with, however unlikely it seemed, pity, "A foolish notion. Hopefully you live long enough to realize it.". His mouth opens again, perhaps to begin another monologue, but he realizes that the smell of smoke was building. Accustomed to the smell and fury of the forge, he'd filed it under normalcy without a second thought. But as it grew stronger he began to notice. "Yes, fire.". The man's own tone was far the more level one, hearing the slowly rising tone as she comes to the realization. A hand tips the hat back as eyes scanned the horizon before he spotted the source of flickering flame. Another moment spared to fish his watch out of his pocket. In the moonlight, its face was clearly visible, glinting. "The wrong season for it...". Chin raises slightly as he considers his options and, perhaps unnoticed, his lights had returned to him. The same three electric blue orb bobble slightly, and he spares a tiny glance at them and only a, "Mm." that seemed like it might have been agreement. While Kanna was protecting herself, he'd gotten a plan. But she seemed to be losing control. A snort, and he steps in close to her, seizing her shoulder, "Hey! Focus. Focus! There's nothing out here. The city is protected by an expanse of nothingness. I need to go look at it." In case it was a dragon. Or a group of bandits or slavers campfire that got out of control. Or something even more sinister. But none of these things were spoken to Kanna, given that the poor girl was on edge as it was. Right hand raises, the sleeve falling back, exposing something on his forearm. Made of steel or mithril, it resembled something like waves of steel caught in motion. When one looked away, it almost seemed like its surface changed each time. At once, a cool breeze blows powerfully, creating a bubble of semi fresh air that should help her coughing. "Stay here, there's nothing but brush there." And whatever lived in them. Hopefully she wouldn't do anything stupid.
Kanna took a deep breath when the wave of fresh air surrounds them. The smell of destruction is still present in the breath she takes, from the burnt foliage, to the vaguely familiar smell of fur and flesh being burnt. For just a hair of a second, she is standing again in Larket. Members of the Royal Guard hold her arms painfully tight so that she cannot flee the protective circle of anti-magic. She has done nothing wrong, yet she is forced to witness a witch she has never met is burnt at the stake, as other members of royalty atop a platform begin to argue amongst themselves. The smell of the witch’s skin as it shrivels becomes mixed into the blackened smoke and leaves a haunting taste in the back of her mouth as she screams to be released. “Stay here.” The scarred man orders before taking off. The command snaps her back to the present, and she realizes that she is being left alone with the lizards of the cliffside. If she recalled right, there was a field of flowers just past the forest, the only barrier between the roaring fire and the westernmost buildings in the town. “No.” Hands gripping at the straps of the worn rucksack on her shoulders. “I am going to help. Whatever you just did, you won’t be able to do that once you get down there; the fire will only be made to come closer to you-- don’t scowl!” She protests. “I am *not* panicking, and if I am it is for good reason! Is that not the case with pyromancers? They need to cast facing drafts to heighten the reach of their spells. You need to insulate yourself from the smoke at the very least.” A second long handkerchief is produced, and she holds it out for him to take.
Ranok halts, staring at Kanna. It was not the sort of piercing attack that he'd use to quell the lesser willed until they buckled underneath his assault, but more one of weighing. A sort of appraising of her character. And determining the likelihood that she'd dash off after him anyways if he left her there. "You have no idea what's down there. It could be a dragon. It could be some dumbass that threw a cigarette into the bush. You still wish to come?". Perhaps seeing a bit of stubborness in her, or something else, he didn't really expect an answer to the question he'd just asked. At once, he was in motion, waving Kanna to leave her more flammable valuables on the outcropping. The risk of it catching fire was minimal, given the rocky protrusions, and the risk was a little higher where they were headed. With no time to waste, he's not arguing with her more if she refuses, however. The duster he wore is shucked and laid onto a rock, leaving the armor beneath in a somewhat rare display. As well, just the full extent of the arm. Bone white plate shone dully in the moonlight, covering his upper chest, arms, and legs, tapering at the joints to provide maximum mobility. With surprising alacrity, he's moving over the rocky jut and towards the conflagration. Kanna's offer of the handkerchief was taken, mostly to stop the fussing, and tied around his neck. His pace punishing, Kanna might have to struggle to keep up as his long stride eats up distance. Following him was the easy part, at least. Those blue lights of his were flared powerfully bright, cutting through the smoke and leaving contrails as they passed, somewhat like will-o-the-wisps. As they approach the roiling smoke the refreshing wind that carried with them tapers too, its source beginning to become restricted. Relying on a careful skimming of life around the user, there tended to be less of it when it was all on fire. A moment is spared to access the situation and let Kanna catch up. What they'd arrived at was not a raging wall of flame, the small copse of trees too small to become so, but it was very much on fire. Smoke boils out but the flames were not clawing hungrily, making passage possible, but unwise. Blinking his eyes against the smoke, the absolute worst kept at bay by his summoned wind, he leans to Kanna, "There's something here." Jaw working, debating on what precisely to convey, he finally adds, "The plan is to see if we can find it. Hopefully it's not hostile. If it is, you run. I don't care what you think you can accomplish, you run. Got it?"
The backpack was discarded, though she clipped the thermos into one of the holes in her belt, and kept the two-headed drum rested by a strap to lay against the small of her back. As it needed to always be somewhat moist to play, the risk of it catching fire was fairly low. As they ran, she keeps her eyes out for the bright lights, though the smoke is ever thickening. At the edge of the blazing forest, the inside of the forest is not as one would think, serene and quiet save for the crackling wood. Echoing from inside are shrieks and hoots of various creatures, malicious and neutral alike, as they try to escape a cruel death. When she catches up to the man at the treeline, a bird shoots out from the black cover, bringing a trail of smoke with it as it hits the ground and begins to cry out for others. Kanna looks, understandably, mortified. The ashes sting at her eyes, and she lifts a hand to shield the direction that the wind blows from. When Ranok speaks, she nods and pulls the mess of walnut curls up into a makeshift bun. “Yessir.” She says obediently before following him through an open pathway in the fire.
Kanna is regarded with one last final look, a consideration of, perhaps, just how much of a bad idea this was. Running into stupid danger wasn't usually Ranok's forte...at least, for no reason. But...there was something in there. The smith turns his head to the lights that follow in a silent question, and he receives a bobble from them in response. A sigh follows and he's dug out a pair of goggles from a pouch on his belt, for use in his peculiar method of longer travel. Without preamble he sticks them not on his head, but Kanna's, securing it around her head. They tighten automatically on her head, getting too tight for a moment, then stepping back just a notch. She'd need them more then he would, given that his escape options were far the better. Not that she really knew that. Continuing the theme of Ranok taking charge, he also takes her hand and in he goes. The heart of the fire was as hot as expected, the temperature spiking heavily. Thick smoke roils upwards and embers fly, a sight that Kanna would be treated to. Ranok gives a cough, eyes squinted against it all, the fuel for his summoned wind gone dry, and common sense demanding that he not use it. Fanning the flames was the worst thing he could do for now. But he held an advantage in that he had a second pair of eyes. Perhaps Kanna would see it first, in the rough epicenter of it all, her eyes keen to the suffering of animals. In the midst of it lay a prone heap of fur, emaciated and pathetic. A foot caught in a rusted bear trap and the dirt surrounding it churned and torn. The wolf, for that's what it seemed to be, had been caught and fought heavily, perhaps for hours or even days before collapse. Surely it'd succumbed...but no. There were faint signs of life stirring. Its sides bellowed and back paws kick weakly. Ranok did not seem to notice, his eyes full of smoke and against the heat, sweat dripping down his forehead and leaving streaks of dark.
A sound that could vaguely be construed as curiosity comes from the girl as the goggles are placed with surprising gentleness around her head. Once adjusted, she’s taken into the fire with him. Because of the height difference, her pace is twice of his and its still not enough to avoid being nearly dragged behind him. “Wait!” She chokes out when they’ve come to a relatively safe clearing. Lifting one leg and crossing it over her knee, she pats at her skirt where embers have begun to smoke at the hem. Kanna sees the shape and she tugs at Ranok’s arm to make him aware of where she was going when his hand was released. “It’s still alive.” The canine gave a whine when the bardess kneeled next to it; too weak to consider fighting. Blood is matted around the trap, and she winces in sympathy when she tries to lift a clump with one nail to see how damaged the leg is. The heat radiating from the trap singes her finger and she pulls away. The fire only intensifies around them; sweat drips from her forehead to around the lining of the goggles as she inspects. With a soft coo to the beast, she removes the thermos from her waist and pours a light stream onto the side of its mouth for it to drink. For a moment, the cold truth Ranok spoke of rings in her head. “You'll kill yourself if you fight every battle that can be fought without regards.” The wolf is clearly too weak to move on its own; it would be quicker, easier, and more merciful to put the beast down before the flames can cover him. Still, at the moment, its alive, and she knows she can at least try. “Can you get the trap off? I-I might be able to carry him out of here.” She pleads to the smith. “Please.”
Ranok coughs slightly, wiping sweat off his head with his left arm. The results were mixed. It was the small things that you truly realize you lost when you had to replace flesh with steel. Sensation was one of them, of course, that was easy. But the little things, like trying to brush dust off or picking up items with so little substance that became much more difficult. It was all just reminders of the choice he'd made and what he'd done to himself. But the middle of a fire was hardly the place to be philosophical. His attention was on the wolf, "Still alive...". Amazement would have been in his tone, but a cough punctuates his words and reminds him that time was ticking. Another glance around the swirling smoke. Nothing else here. At least, still alive. He was kneeling next to Kanna and the wolf even before she begged him to assist, "Poor bastard. It'd be a shame to let him die like this.". Eyes watering, he's leaning over the trap. "Solid iron." It was difficult to tell whether it was rust or char on its outside, but it was sturdy enough that he couldn't simply snap it. Whatever trapper that laid this had a good eye for quality, if nothing else. "Stay back." was the sharp command to Kanna. Wounded animals were dangerous, and he didn't care how much of a fairytale princess she was. The last thing he needed was the wolf to bite and having to carry her out bloodied. Left fingers reach out and take the bear trap in its grasp. This was one of the advantages, at least, to sawing off your own arm. He'd never need oven mitts, that was for certain, "You can't carry this thing out. It has to weight at least eighty pounds, even as sick as he is." People were used to dogs being small, but mostly manageable. The wolves out on the Isle could get big. Really big, especially if they'd come from the Fog Forest.
It couldn't be told where this one had come from. Lacking the leverage to pry the thing open he'd need something else. Calloused fingers meet the metal and find the same conclusion Kanna had. Even with the resilience that his trade granted him, it was too hot. Luckily he had other options. Reaching across his waist, hands grasp the hilt of his sword and draw it smoothly. Seemingly having no sheath, it pulls from a simple leather loop to rest in his hand. It was a plain looking sword, lacking anything but a crossguard and pommel, remarkable only in the fact that its length was measured to a man of Ranok's size and reach. It didn't even look sharp. Moments pass, however, and it changes. Shifting in his grasp like liquid, the blade pulls itself shorter and more stout, the tip gaining a chiseled tip. Within the span of a few breaths, the sword had turned itself into a blade into something more resembling a crowbar. With no preamble, he's shoved it into the trap. With sweat pouring off him, only to evaporate the moment it touches the parched soil, he begins to toil. What should have been a simple task was much the more difficult thanks to the lack of clear air and it takes a minute for him to pry the trap open enough to begin making progress. But sweat soaked fingers slip and it snaps shut again, right on the poor creatures foot. A yip and the wolf snarls and snaps, and a sudden gout of surprisingly intense flame is produced. Ranok curses, instincts from the forge saving his face as he's reacting before he realizes what was going on. A dumbfounded moment, and he returns to the task. With grim jawed determination, the iron is forced apart with a little more savageness then strictly necessary and the wolf is free. The creature is recoiling from Ranok, obviously fearful of the huge man that had accidentally hurt it, but there was little choice. Coughing, huge hands reach out and seize the creature by its scruff, his left hand holding its muzzle in an iron grip, and he lifts the thing in an ungraceful hurry. Coughing, he manages to force out the word, "Go!" to Kanna. He'd have to rely on her to get them out, his eyes clouded and watering from the smoke.
Kanna gives the wolf a cautious stroke of the muzzle, a motion of comfort that the creature seems to appreciate with slow closing eyes and a lick of its own nose despite the low growl coming from its throat. “You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay.” She coos to it before standing to move out of its reach. Her eyes shift up to where embers are falling in succession. As Ranok works, she gently lifts the first layer of her winter skirt of far too many layers and bunches it up around her hand, approaching him. “Shoulder.” She says in simple explanation, dabbing a smoking ember burning though the bit of fabric showing from between the armor plates before it can break through to the skin. As he works, she repeats this a few times, though the simple movement around him already has her winded. The wolf cries out, and then so does she. Her right arm burns, quite literally with the long sleeve on fire, and she dabs at it with the skirt-cloth until its put out. “I’m okay, keep going.” Kanna coughs harder as the smoke piles up. Reaching up with her reddened arm, she rips off the delicate chiffon sleeve on the other side before it can catch fire as well.
“Go!” She hears from Ranok, and looks around them for a sign of escape. She calls out as she runs in case he loses sight of her. “This way!” She takes the thermos still attached to her and uses the rest of the water in it to douse a part of a fallen log that blocks their way. Her sides begin to burn and her vision gets cloudy the further they run. The fire only grows around them, and Kanna begins to fear that she has taken a wrong turn to go back into the forest. Then there is a glimpse of the moonlit wastelands ahead of them and she calls out for Ranok again to make sure he hasn’t lost her. She stumbles out, gasping for air, and realizes that there is one more problem: at her height, she had just run under a fallen branch burning at Ranok’s height, spanning the difference in their stature. With the wolf in tow, surely he would not be able to bend down to go under it. “Stop!” The panic in her voice is evident. Without any other weapon to use, she ducks back into the fire and beats at the thick branch with her good arm, letting out a sharp yelp at the resulting pain blooming. She beats it again and once more, and the branch splits, falling onto either side of the pathway. Turning to face the blinded man, she puts one hand to his back to direct him out of the fire. “That’s it, we’re out, keep walking!” She orders with a voice shaking with pain, clutching her burned arm tight.
They needed to get out. He'd indulged the foolhardy quest long enough for a questionable outcome and a tenable prize. Still, anything one could walk away from was a positive experience, in his book. It was hardly a heroic exit, an inglorious stumble through a swiftly incinerating patch of formerly tenacious life. If it were some story, he'd have strode through the flames like some champion, embers aflutter and eyes smoldering. What ended up happening was that he, despite Kanna's best efforts, was hitting his head on scraggled branches, saved from being brained by the final big one, and hacking up something black and disgusting. While carrying a now wriggling wolf who was absolutely indignant at his carrying method. When they finally cleared, it was covered in soot, mud and ash smeared in black lines over the bone white of his plate, streaks of alternating colors on his skin, and one ear trailing a wisp of smoke. Rather then dumping the wolf as soon as they were outside the fire, he continues a distance away so no change in the winds could see them plunged back into danger once more. As they cleared, he concentrates and, in a stuttering fashion, the summoned wind fitfully returns, swiping away wisps of smoke. As soon as he'd determined they were safe enough, the wolf is put, perhaps a smidge harder then was strictly necessary, onto the ground. The poor animal was so exhausted that it didn't protest, merely opting to lay and breath. At least for now. Besides being weakened from what seemed to be starvation, its ribs clearly visible and fur ragged, its paws were a mess. The leg that had been entrapped was bleeding again, and the pads of its paws were raw and bloodied from stones in the ground as it struggled to free itself. Ranok, for his part, immediately takes his own canteen from his belt. Fingers flick and without looking gives the cap a vicious twist, sending it spinning. As soon as it reaches the top, a well timed flick hits it and sends it flying. Only to be caught by a leather cord. With no further preamble, its entire contents are dumped on his faces, eyes open. Some of it actually manages to make it into his mouth. The practiced ease of it all was seriously underscored by wracks of coughing, and at least one hawk of something black and vicious right onto the ground. More in control, the wind he was pulling, which probably rang on Kanna's druidic connection as the vambrace he used to do it functioned on similar lines, strengthened. "Well, that could have gone worse. A mutt in a trap and we didn't even..." A pause.
He'd paid the wolf no attention as soon as he'd dropped it, opting to restore his eyesight. But as the smoke clears away and the moon peeks out from the clouds, something changes. The moon trickles down, pale and cool, alighting on the three. There was no fancy change, no swirling effects or bewilderment. But as soon as the moonlight touched the wolf, it seemed to have caught fire again. The fur was aglow, much as if each tip of the bits of its fur was a prick of light, warm oranges and reds in intermixed. No smoke arose and no heat was generated, but there was something absolutely odd about the creature. "Well." was the statement that was punctuated by another round of coughing, "That's interesting." The wolf carried on its beleaguered breathing.
Kanna follows behind, puffs of smoke escaping her lips when she coughs particularly hard. The wisps come out from the sides of the bandana still covering her face and she has to pause when it comes up over her goggles and obscures her vision. It is not until he drops the wolf, to which she gives a soft sound in sympathy for the poor thing, that she lets herself drop onto her rear with an unrefined, “Oomph!” Soot-stained hands paw at the goggles until they come off her head. Despite the exhaustion, she still has the manners to place them gently in her lap and use a bunched up skirt layer to wipe off the sweat and soot. When Ranok hacks up the black onto the ground, she scrunches her nose in disgust. “Ugh, is that from the smoke?” She asks before collapsing into her own coughing fit. Now the bandana around her mouth is removed, revealing the contrast between the charcoal colored skin above her nostrils and the pale wheat skin unmarred underneath. Her chest heaves as the adrenaline begins to wear off, and now a soft wheezing sound coming out whenever she exhales. “Didn’t what…?” Tired eyes follow his gaze to the wolf just as moonlight falls on its fur. There is a moment of silence as both regard the creature with their own levels of curiosity and surprise. She feels around for her rucksack and remembers it was left tucked away, a good ten minute walk at least. “Oh… I have… food in my bag. Let me..” She makes her way up to stand her feet before dropping like a ragdoll back onto her rear. The drum in the small of her back clatters as it bounces against her. “Or I could rest up first, that works as well.”
Ranok didn't have the good decency to look exhausted, only significantly more weathered then he usually did. Shaking bits of ash out of his head, which made his hair look like a mop, and a glance at the wolf, he moves with a purposeful stride to Kanna. Squatting down with equal deliberation, he reaches out and without asking or waiting, seeks to seize Kanna's chin. Looking for injuries, mostly. He'd seen the arm. The interaction was wordless until he's standing again, plucking his goggles back before he does so, turning away, "Keep breathing deeply. Smoke inhalation is dangerous but you should be fine in a little while." He next tried to check on the wolf, but it shies away. Too weak to get up, it nevertheless bares its teeth in an attempt to get him to back off. Which, he does, but only not to distress the animal, "Fine. Bloody ungrateful." The trap had hurt it, and Ranok had made it worse. That was enough for the wolf. Kanna would probably have better luck there. Another cough and a glance at Kanna, "You kept your head better than I'd expected. You still should have stayed. Still, you survived." He jabs a finger at the wolf, "That is your problem now, by the by. It wants nothing to do with me. And seems to set fire to things." A pause, a hand scratching an ear. The one that got toasted. When his hand comes back feeling the lost hairs on it, he's surprisingly cranky about, though the expression goes away before long. "I will return. You're not going anywhere for the night so you will need to rest for it." Before Kanna can argue, he's moving away, his movements still deliberate, back straight and face set in stone. Fingers fish coins from his pouch, or at least, circulate bits of metal. Tossing them carelessly on the ground ahead of himself, his stride continues to take him over them when at the last moment he crouches fluidly, and then jumps. In a blur of white metal and aged flesh, Ranok launches himself skywards hard, sailing incredibly high into the sky, leaving a divet in the ground where he'd stood, two copper pieces flattened as if an enormous weight were pressed against them, and the smell of ozone. The trajectory was well plotted and he landed on a flat slab of rock far away where they'd left their things. Boots hit first, absorbing the shock and canceling out the effects of recoil, turning what would have been a deadly fall into a simple landing. Only then, far where Kanna could not see, did fingers trail on his side where he'd clutched the wolf in his escape. At his finger's passage, black under-weave pulls itself apart, coiling somewhat like muscle, pulling the segmented plates aside. The result was as he'd feared, if not worse. "Hm." Wordlessly, he's gathering up his duster, putting it back on. Taking Kanna's things and instruments, checking that they didn't rustle and that the coming shortcut wouldn't harm them. Anything that didn't pass muster was repacked if necessary. After all, Ranok was well familiar with the logistics of his jumping. Another few coins are sacrificed and he launches back out again. This landing was further out from Kanna, so as not to throw up a cloud of dust and ash. She'd see a fast moving blot of dark, hear the snap of leather and a streak of blue, and then the landing. Ranok's figure stayed crouched for a long minute, unmoving, and the he stands to return to her. Acting as if nothing unusual had happened, her things are set down with a gentle clatter, "There's a somewhat large rock formation a little ways away that would make a decent place to camp for the night. When you're ready."
Kanna looks up just as the smith kneels in front of her, and gives a startled sound when he touches her chin and turns her head around this way and that. The part of her that’s covered in soot are near impossible to see if there are any bruises yet forming, but aside from the burns on her right arm and the caked blood on her left hand (the fingers on which have not moved a fraction of a centimeter to keep the pain at bay) from smacking the burning branch down, she seems to be alright. She gives another series of coughs, breathing deeply as she can between each fit. “I can… heal myself if needed.” An attempt at reassurance where none is needed and likely not wanted. Her expression sours when he snaps at the poor wolf, and doesn’t seem to improve with the vague praise. “I helped you get back out.” Though she knows that she would not have been needed if Ranok had opted to wear the goggles instead of protecting her eyesight first. “Rest for…” The question trails off as he leaves. Within a blink, he is gone and in the air, to which she can only react with an exclamation that dissolves into a fit of coughs. When he returns, she has shifted to sit closer to the unusual beast. The wolf’s large head rests in her lap, now breathing slowly and evenly, while its tail gives weak, but regularly timed thumps. It was as if the wolf was trying to wag its tail for her. “You’re okay, okay?” She coos at it. In the time of his absence, she has somehow regained movement of her left hand, using it to stroke the wolf’s snout. Unmarred skin is visible between the cracks in the caked blood and dirt. The sudden reappearance makes her jump a bit, but she stays quiet as he comes back and brings her the rucksack. “We… are going together?” The annoyed demeanor since their escape had made her believe that they were to part ways from here. Careful not to disturb the resting beast, she pulls the rucksack closer to her so she can rummage through it. A shamisen is produced, otherwise unremarkable for the fact that its neck bends down to be flush with the body with a simple wooden locking mechanism so it can be carried around. “A quick song of health. The poor thing can’t walk in this condition. You look like you could use it too. Oh.” As if she’s remembered something, she also retrieves a box, the contents of which being tough and flavorless meat jerky, that is put down in front of the wolf. Its tail begins to wag again as it tears into its first semblance of a meal in what has likely been days.
A level look is his response, "I will not abandon you in the wastes." The words were spoken with genuine annoyance, and his expression was almost...offended. A snort follows, and he's moving away, fishing a cigarillo out of his returned duster, "No. Too many dangerous things out here. Dragons, for one. Off season, but they're interested in big fires. Usually means that there's a lot of something out here." Fingers pluck the smoke from his mouth. Seems counterintuitive to put more smoke into his lungs after what he'd done, but Ranok's coughing was mostly quelled. "Second danger is bandits. And slavers. They're attracted to fire for the same reason." Head tilts back, looking up at the moon, "I won't be dragging..." A glance downwards, "...both of you too far away. You're in no shape to move." Looking out towards the horizon, he adds, "Nor your new...friend. Not far, at least." He was keeping his distance from the pair. The smith was never good with animals. Or people, for that matter. Difficult to predict most times. "I can carry 'ol Sparky there if we need to." A hand waves vaguely towards Kanna, "I am not injured. As I might have said, you ought to conserve your strength. I suppose the wolf needs some sort of treatment. To speak of." Drawing aside his duster, Kanna is treated to a glimpse of what lay inside. It was not entirely dissimilar to a shady alley salesman attempting to sell trinkets in a busy market, only most of what lay inside his duster was difficult to identify. He pulls a small vial out, moving closer to the bard to offer it to her, stopper side out. "Burn cream. And a powerful local anesthetic mixed in. It will help. You're lucky I'm prepared, but do not waste it. I only have that small bit. Only so much room. Oh, and do be careful where you put it. Let it sit too long and it will make the skin go numb." Did he offer her a shadow of a smile? That hat was back in place atop his head, so it was difficult to tell much in only the cherry red glow of his smoke. "Be sure not to get any on your tongue. Or other sensitive bits." With that, he straightens up, drifting and putting the waning fire to his back so as not to ruin his night vision too much.
The girl’s brows furrow at the comment of slavers. “There are slave-traders here?!” She seems alarmed at this, though it shifts soon enough to one of thought. “I suppose that makes sense, though. I heard something about a slave market hidden outside the ogres’ town, but I had hoped it was just something to scare people away from there.” A deep breath is heard from aside, and the bardess turns her head to see Ranok taking a drag from the smoke. The look of confusion is evident, but she declines to comment on it, fixing her gaze instead on the incandescent beast that has replaced the cheap box of jerky with a puddle of slobber. As she adjusts the strings of the shamisen, the vial is given to her, to which she gives a grateful thanks. She makes sure to keep it on the side opposite the wolf, just in case he think it some kind of snack. As the stopper is removed, she wrinkles her nose. “Why on earth would I put this on my tongue?” She moves to take a bit, and remembers her hands are filthy from soot. A pause to wipe the black smudges along her otherwise colorful skirt. “It can be washed.” She says with a hint of defensiveness when she sees Ranok looking in her direction and mistakes the look for judgement. Then she takes just a drop on her finger and applies it to the worst of the blisters. It probably could have been said that she really could heal the wounds with magic, despite the fact that it will sap someone’s energy, but she is not one to refuse an offer of kindness. The vial is placed with caution just aways from herself and the wolf. “I have to warn, if the injuries are great, using this spell may put me to sleep for the night. I’m not entirely sure of the reason myself; either I heal myself and put everyone around me to sleep, or I heal others and put myself to sleep.” With the note made, she plays a soft tune that almost distracts from the crackling fires in the distance. Nothing mystical appears to be happening; there is no glow of concentrated mana where injuries lay, and the song certainly is not captivating enough to be divine. Sure enough, though, the wolf kicks his injured leg slightly. In the moonlight, perhaps he would see the fresh layers of blood and pink tendon fade as unmarred skin grew back over the wound, or the pads of its paws slowly filling out and dislodging the debris wedged in the now-closing pads. Would there be any newer flesh wounds on Ranok, he would find that they too were being alleviated.
There was a disgruntled noise, somewhere in the vicinity of Ranok, "Yes. There are. They're in every land, every city. Laws do not stop the trade of flesh. When you hear the word slave, you think of a man forced into hard labor. But that is not always the case. Indenturement exists, where people are piled with debts they could not hope to alleviate. Men thrown into twisted experiments with magic, or turned into cattle for vampires. There's a particular werewolf group that apparently buys some people to hunt every moon. And," he drawls with an exhale, cigarette smoke to mix with the steadily freshening air, "There's never a lack of demand for night company." His head cuts towards her, fingers plucking his smoke between index and thumb, and there was another feral glint like before, "Have no fear, though. With me here, I am far the more valuable target. I have put enough of their cohorts to rest that I have a considerable bounty on my head. You'll escape easily." A flick and the cigarillo is ashed upon the ground. "I would prefer you did not put yourself to sleep before we move to that formation. Music carries far here, too. And as for the balm, well. You wouldn't lick it, but you'd be surprised how often you touch your face. Just scrub your fingers, you'll be fine." As hard as it was to pass up a tune, he wasn't much in a musical mood. But he isn't hitting her with a heavy disapproving stare quite yet. One final drag reducing the smoke to ash between metal fingertips and the remainder dropped to the ground and crushed beneath a boot. Her pluckings make his ears twitch, though it wasn't unpleasant. Her original assessment was quite correct, not that he'd have admitted it. The wolf had burned him the whole way, and the skin was red and angry all along his torso, hidden beneath the armor. The heat was dealt with as much as the measures he'd built into it could have, but he wasn't sure Kanna knew just how potent her new friend could be when presented with a life and death scenario. Or maybe it was something else. But her soothing tunes weren't reaching him. They simply...faded in their energies when they reached out to him. The distinct smell of ozone began to seep into the air, and depending on how magically inclined Kanna was, she might be able to see it out of the corner of her eye. A thick aura around the man, serving as a barrier to the magic that flowed and ebbed around him. It was a subtle thing, but very much present. Perhaps that's why her tunes earlier in Kelay seemed to have no effect. "When you're ready?"
A naive tilt of the head. Despite the weathered look and perpetually annoyed demeanor, the flower collection and the act of care by giving her the protective eyewear makes her wonder, surely he could not have slain that many people. Certainly, and they were slave-traders, so it must have been a heroic thing he did too. Ever the optimist, she thinks not of the simple reality of his statement. The singer took a slow exhale when the sharp smell of ozone struck her. It was not entirely unpleasant, yet whether it came from the overture of magic or the prelude to a storm, the immediate feeling of having her breath taken from her was always difficult to adjust to. She lifts her head from the shamisen so that she can draw a deep breath, when the glimpse of a light makes her look to him. In the moonlight, she can see that the reddened skin showing has not changed. It’s clear from how she purses her lips into an upset pout that the lack of effect bothers her. It is not because she cannot heal him, nor because of the aura that she has yet to recognize, but because she wonders if there must be something wrong with her spell. Moonlit eyes fall on the wolf, whose spirits are considerably raised and she gives it a soft smile. The melody finishes after only a half-minute, and within another minute, the shamisen has been put away. Kanna stands and examines the landscape with one hand on the wolf’s head. So far they appear to not have drawn attention to themselves, as she does not see a single thing moving. “I’d much rather hide in the town’s clinic than stay out here the night.” She complains quietly, though it is quickly cut off with a yawn. By now, the town would be too far for her to walk back, and her mind draws blanks for places that would allow her inside if a wolf is at her side. “I’m ready to go.” Her rucksack resumes its rightful place on her shoulders, though her eyes are drooping slightly.
Ranok wasn't privy to her private considerations to him. Luckily, because otherwise, he may have attempted to dissuade her. As it was, his attention was squarely on the horizon. He might have made light of the danger, at least in his own way, but it was still present. Fingers tap on the hilt of his sword, beating out a dull beat, Nothing was forthcoming, but it also meant he missed Kanna's pouting. Dubious as to whether the entire charade had been remotely worth it, the smith was eager to get the girl settled down so he could...well, he was unsure what step 2 was going to be. He'd figure it out later. When she indicates her readiness, he sets off with no preamble, picking his way across rock strewn ground. Guided by the light of the moon, he didn't have any trouble making sure his footing was steady, though half an eye kept on Kanna meant slower going. The good news was that a surprisingly quick hand would be there to catch her if she stumbled. Eventually, they came upon the spot Ranok had scoped out. In the lee of another jut of rock, some ways away from the previous perch and even further from the now dwindled fire. The overhang of stone provided a fair approximation of coverage. Kicking some rocks out of the way, he produces a passable little campsite. Hardly cozy, but it'd do. "I will take watch. You shal rest. I do hope you have some form of blanket, in that pack there." Camping supplies weren't tucked away in his pockets there. Even the duster's size, there were limitations. Another glance at the sky, "Smells like rain, too. Hope it doesn't." With his side to her and her companion, Ranok takes a seat on another small boulder, ready to wait out the night. Kanna followed with little trouble, though she did stumble slightly when she closed her eyes to yawn. Every stumble was met by Ranok’s quick reflexes and a thanks followed by a quieter apology. The wolf’s fur seemed to illuminate the barren grounds around them whenever moonlight shone on it. Having still distrusted Ranok for making the pain in its leg worse, he trot beside the bardess and gave a low growl whenever the smith caught her or otherwise got too close to her. Once at the makeshift campsite, she knelt down and swept out smaller pebbles that the smith had missed with his foot. “My pack is not just filled with good intentions and snacks.” She retorts, pulling out not one, but several blankets that were wound up tightly into a square held together by layers of twine. A blade is produced, one that would hardly be of use for anything other than this, and the twine is cut. She lays one down for the wolf, who lays on it with a grateful huff under the shade of the outcropping. Its fur would not shine again to give them away, at least not now. The smallest is set aside, presumably for herself. Without warning, a blanket is dropped around Ranok’s shoulders. If he were to look down, he would see an absence of shoes, the explanation to how she had gotten to him with such minimal noise. “No take-backsies.” She says with an appreciative smile for his small acts of kindness. The freckled girl disappears back under the outcropping and sets out some dried fruit. Once she is wrapped up in the thin blanket, against the wall of the miniature cave, she asks softly, her voice echoing out. “My name is Kanna, by the way. There is no surname if you’d rather refer to me by it, just Kanna.” There is a pause while she waits to see if he will answer her. Without much else to speak of, she rests her head on what remains of the rucksack, and falls into a dream of flaming wolves and flowering fields.
There was a thin, oh so thin, smile in response to her quip, "Sometimes I considered getting a pack like that. But despite my penchant for prowling all over the world, I find it too restrictive. Or, you might say, because of. Either way, I do without." It didn't hurt that he seemed to be less flesh and more machine. Another rock is kicked over and out of the way, giving him slightly better footing. When's he's sitting down he discovers Kanna uses it to sneak attack a blanket upon his shoulders. As big as he was, it didn't reach down even to his knees. The bard is regaled with an unreadable expression for a few moments, and then he turns away, offering only, "Mmm." as his response. Whether that was one of appreciation, annoyance, acceptance, or something else entirely was left to Kanna. But he doesn't shrug the blanket off. Instead, he settles in, wiggling the hilt of his sword so it wasn't poking him so much, shuffing his boots to something approximating a relaxed posture, and pulling out what looked to be a wicked looking weapon that looked almost like a crossbow from a holster at the small of his back. Only it seemed capable of folding up compactly, and was missing a bow completely. As he settled it in his lap, he takes one last cigarillo, sticking it between his lips but not yet lighting it up. At her offering of her name, he gives a subtle nod, offering back a curt, "You may call me Ranok.". Silence falls thereafter, with not even the sound of insects buzzing or a campfire crackling. As she snuggled into her poor bed and began drifting off, he rumbles softly, almost too quiet to hear, perhaps even as she drops into sleep itself, "Goodnight, Kanna."