Settentionale [O]

[Penitence]

-:-

”We should further the scout the area. It will pay to know the terrain well,”

At that point the conversation died like a kitten dropped in a well. Victor didn't want to talk about this in the first place so he let it happen, but at the same time a bitter, but unsurprising, thought ran through his mind. 'Coward'. She was forever running from even the tiniest level of discomfort.

But again, it was unsurprising. He had already surmised this about her character but at the same time he was unsure if it was true cowardice, or if she was simply ill-equipped to handle conflict. In reply to his maddening Venator partner he simply stood and began walking past her towards the knoll. A single sentence on his lips.

"I'll head North and see if I can scout some paths through the undergrowth. Good luck."

His tone was not cold or indifferent, but forthright and businesslike. No point creating more conflicts for her to flee from.

He didn't look back.

-:-

The forest North of the road was thick with trees, pines grown closer together than in any other forest he had seen. The trees were mostly young and he figured the populace often cut them down for firewood and replanted them at the end of winter. They would never need to grow tall or particularly strong so they were planted far closer together than was normal.

As a result paths through the wooded terrain were few and scant, consisting mostly of isles planted into the forest when the trees were mere saplings. One such isle ran clear through the the wood heading towards it's center.

Chances were that was where the ghouls were located but he didn't like his chances in the dense wood without his armour or shield. Only his sword would not be enough to fight the beasts in such close confines. Though perhaps the pair of them could chance a foray into the depths.

On the other hand they might not be there at all, and by the time they found that out another attack might have occurred. He'd ask Lucrezia, though he suspected what her answer would be already. With a wary glance over he shoulder to the depths of the thick and dark forest he headed back towards the road.

[Deleted]

Regardless of what he thought of Lucrezia's brusque murder of the meaningful conversation, he moved on from it swiftly, consenting to her suggestion by leaving his own way with two equally brisk sentences. The blackette watched him go through her red lenses, and was swiftly left quite alone on the road.

Rather than stand and let idle thoughts congeal on her person, Lucrezia moved, scaling the western ridge and looking around for an ideal tree to perch upon. The pines were unhelpful, for their trunks were bare of branches till quite a ways up.

The scrutinizing stroll was not swift enough to shirk the ardent pursuit of the previous conversation. Is he truly damaged, or just lonesome? That was the first concrete question that arose, and it forced the woman to a halt; she pinched the bridge of her nose above her glasses. Before she could come up with an answer for this question, however, another attacked: How much must he resent me? By comparison, she had a loving family, or at least so he would likely think. Did he even believe her worthy of speaking about - hearing about - such subjects? He had seemed to be speaking readily enough, but…

The Accosi girl reached out to plant a hand against the robust trunk. She found that one eye itched beneath her glasses, so her other hand tended to that, instead. He hates me, she concluded mid-massage, yet by the time the irritation had abated she was not so sure. When she randomly chose to look upward, she found a low-hanging branch just above her head, and cursed her own inattention. A bunched leap, a grasped bough and a short flip later, and she was perched in the trees - though not high enough to be concealed at ground level.

He thinks me an idiot. Of this she was relatively certain, but cared proportionately little. At the level she had now ascended to, one could almost simply step between trees, providing they had graceful balance - which the Venator did, thankfully. Soon, she found a vantage point high above the clearing, and primed her crossbow at where she expected the fight would take place. She could get shots in here, but could she follow the proceedings if they moved? She glanced around for a lower limb even closer, and found it.

Of course, all this introspection was very self-centered. When she landed almost daintily upon the wooden branch, Ultima Ora in one arm, she was forced to think of it again: What do I think of him?

In this case, the only thing she knew was that she knew nothing. She could not even decide if the revelations she had just received improved or dampened her opinion of him, or her attraction towards -

The girl frowned, perplexed at and perhaps disappointed in herself. The blonde boy was just now returning into view. Slinging her weapon back over her shoulder, she dropped down till she was hanging from the branch above herself, and then allowed herself to fall, thudding back to the earth with minimal injury to her shins; she stood now atop the ridge, likely having made her position quite obvious. At a distance, she waved, in a way that only she would recognize as uncertain; her features were set in stone.

[Penitence]

-:-

When outside of his armour Victor looked much less imposing as a whole, but he was still a formidable figure. His height was barely diminished and his muscles, corded and wiry from years of arms training, showed in a light bronzed tone on his forearms. His torso was clothed in a short sleeved white linen shirt held together with loosely tied cords rather than buttons. Over this light and malleable cloth was a black waistcoat made of leather and lined with chain mail on the outer face. His breeches, a soft buckskin, were adorned with external ties where he could attach his leg armour separately if he ever knew in advance that he had to fight on horseback.

The calf high rugged boots on his feet had clearly seen many years of use, and seemed to contour to his calves. On them also were ties where he could attach the plates of armour that converted his boots to thick sabatons. At his waist was the ever present long-sword he wielded in combat, the pommel of which hovered mid way between his waist and armpit, the blade hanging perpendicular with his thigh. All in all it was the image of a commoner gone to war; someone with skill training and money, but little in the way of finery or elegance. Fit for purpose, sturdy, but not flashy or ostentatious.

He dipped a hand into the pouches at his belt and withdrew a strip of jerky which he promptly fed into his mouth. Chewing on something was a method he had always used to relieve the tension in his jaw that appeared whenever he battled with a conundrum.

And what was that conundrum? How to inform Lucrezia of the choice ahead of them without any kind of negative bias. If he was too cold or brusque he would come across as dismissive, or worse. In the end he figured a simple recitation of the situation would be the easiest way to bypass her natural inclination to think badly of everyone around her.

Almost immediately after he pushed through the tree line on the Northern side of the road he heard a muffled 'thump' and looked up to see Lucrezia giving him a wave reminiscent of the ones he had always seen from his instructors when they greeted him. It rankled him slightly, the implications of their relative statuses notwithstanding, but he figured it was probably a natural motion for her, by-the-book operator that she was.

He raised a gloved hand in greeting, the leather creasing in the motion briefly before he brought it back down to the pommel of his weapon, tilting it forwards so the point of the blade rose behind him, allowing him to dip into the hollow of the road without tripping himself.

There was a slight tension between him as he began to crest the hill, walking steadily towards her. Something in that last conversation between them had been left unsaid, what it was he didn't know but the phantom of it's absence was like a pall on his mind. Deciding to get straight to the point, and without any embellishment, he simply said;

"There's a path through the woods, leads to the heart of the forest. It smells of foul and rot, I suspect it's nadir in the hollow is where the ghouls wait during the heat of the day. The path is narrow enough that should I walk down it with my shield raised nothing would be able to slip around my sides. In such a place fighting the creatures would be a trivial event. But if I'm wrong we might get lost or return to late to prevent another attack."

He squatted on the hillock, looking towards the forest gate. Unsure whether to say anymore, after a brief moment he said.

"I can't make the decision alone."

[Deleted]

The boy noticed her, raised a hand to reciprocate her greeting, and opted to climb the slope towards her rather than demand that she descend. She received him with her ever-present expression of indifference, looking up at the muscular male and waiting for him to speak, for he seemed anxious to do so.

"There's a path through the woods, leads to the heart of the forest," he began. The Venatore female frowned, wondering how this could possibly be significant. "It smells of foul and rot; I suspect its nadir in the hollow is where the ghouls wait during the heat of the day," he explained further; behind her glasses, Lucrezia's eyes widened. This description was indeed suspect, though it begged the question of whom or what the creatures answered to...

Ghouls were Incarnates, and had no will of their own. They did as they were bid.

"The path is narrow enough that should I walk down it with my shield raised nothing would be able to slip around my sides. In such a place fighting the creatures would be a trivial event. But if I'm wrong we might get lost or return too late to prevent another attack." He turned and squatted down, contemplating the far-off path he had found. "I can't make the decision alone."

An inhalation through thin nostrils was the only sound that preceded Lucrezia's reply: "It is no decision." She looked down at him, now that he was finally below her eye level. "If you are right, then pursuing these creatures where they hide places less lives at risk." Had that mattered before? "Rather, it is a question of trust: Whether or not you trust your own deduction, and our own skills.

"I trust them both." She looked towards the opposite hill. Deeper within the woods, the enemy lurked. "We should inform the guards of our new plan. Tell them they needn't die today. Perhaps if the front gate is closed and they oversee the clay pits, nobody will be lured away. The Ghouls may be starved, even if they evade us. Nobody dies."

[Penitence]

[ooc] Just doing a minor timeskip to when we're in the actual path, assuming we dealt with the guards 'off camera' feel free to fill in the blanks if you want.

-:-

The pines to either side of Victor's shield passed in a blur of half hidden shadow while he trained his eyes ahead. There was a coil of worry in the pit of his gut as he pushed forwards through the dense thicket; the last time he had fought such a creature he had very nearly died, and here he was chasing not one, but two of them, directly into their den. Was it cunning? Tactics? Or madness? He knew not.

What he did know was that the hard ball of nerves writhing inside him could not be quelled with mere platitudes, he needed closure on this engagement.

If he truly examined his feelings he would find them focused far more on himself than they had ever been before, was it a product of his near death experience? Or was part of his inner character starting to shine through? A blight on an otherwise pure apple?

One does not like to examine the distasteful parts of one's own nature, so Victor ignored the feeling, shoving it down deep within himself, and forged on.

He could feel rather than hear Lucrezia at his shoulder. She was slight and made little sound traveling through the dense, yet tidy, thicket. The only indication of her presence was the slim hand pressed against his left shoulder, a concession to the lack of light in the dark environs so that they would not lose one another if there was an unexpected event on the path.

The pines were young in this part of the wood, and their canopy was scant inches above Victor's helm, occasionally its form would catch on a branch or other and a sharp spike of panic would race through him at the unexpected contact. Already the air within his visor was stifling and hot, evidence of his shallow breath. But it was also rank with rot and decay, the stench of human viscera was thick in the confined space of the arboreal tunnel.

He had so far eschewed dialogue, concerned more with the tactical advantage of stealth. But it suddenly struck him that if the ghouls were at all aware of the happenings this shallow in their den then they would know of the Venators presence already, so he spoke;

"The air in here is thick with decay, it near makes me choke on every other breath. I cannot imagine what it will be like to breath in this miasma in a fight."