Road to the Wilderness

Pressing every onward, Syrena imparts more details of their journey.

"Tonight, our trek will take us to Trapper House - A hunters' lodge and trading post. It is on the morrow that the way will become more rough. Beyond the first tower, there are many dangers real and rumored. Giant arachnids, vultures, bats, great ursines, and wild boar are among the many that inhabit this region. Some even claim goblins lurk in the darkness to ambush unsuspecting travelers and legends suggest even worse horrors stalk the mountains and passes, from a lost time, born of Zaharan fell sorceries: Beastmen and more unnatural blasphemous hybrids."

Xenophon does his best to keep up with Syrena. Though he is agile and no stranger to strenuous marching, he can tell she isn't going her fastest pace. If she did, he doubts he could catch her.

He accepts her knowledge regarding the dangers they face on the trail as fact. He keeps his spear always in hand, and watches the terrain for choke points and other ambush sites.

"The wilderness grows more wild as the age turns," he comments, as they pass beneath the ruins of a grand Tirenean aqueduct. He turns to Culchas the Hunter. "Have you seen these horrors in the mountains Syrena speaks of?"

Right, I'm sure there'd be a scorpion under every bedroll too if we're not careful. Having been holding onto some apprehension about joining in with this lot on a mission that he knows fuck-all about, as well as nervousness of heading into wilderness for the first time, Gennadius interjects. "Surely more rumored beasts than real. Just as every fisherman hooks a sturgeon as long as he, every bat in the wood could carry a man off, and every spider the size of a house. It's all grander when retold over an ale." Alright, Azeni, you're on edge, just relax. The real danger is always men and beastmen. That's what a prudent eye would watch out for. Lawless bands of thugs." Azeni, you don't know what the fuck you're talking about, just shut the fuck up. Gennadius hears himself and knows it's just his nerves, but once he gets rolling, it's hard to stop himself. "We don't need your ale house stories, just focus on getting us where we're going!" Fuck me, why can't I keep my fucking mouth shut?!

"It is said that at the height of the Empire, a citizen could journey its whole breadth in safety," Gundus muses, his thoughts taking a similar turn to Xenophon's. "We have fallen far. How many assassinations, how many civil wars have we suffered? Live and gold wasted chasing personal ambition, instead of working to build the glory of the Empire."

To Gennadius he adds, "Ha, you never fought beasts in the arena? I'd put money on you over a spider every time, no matter how big!" trying to break his own pensive mood as much as reassure his companion.

Xenophon is not sure what Gennadius is on about, but he agrees with him about one thing - "Yes, men are plenty dangerous. With Taurkan's new decree, I know many sell-swords are struggling to find work. Maybe gladiators, too? Men trained in violence with empty stomachs is surely a common recipe for banditry."

He turns to Damanandros now, laughing. ""Damanandros, do you remember that time on the Skyrnasos campaign when we were holed up in that shithole of a town waiting for our boat to come get us, and then that bandit lord attacked it without knowing we were there? What was that town's name?"

For the first time in what felt like ages, Culchas feels alive again. To have the stone and earth beneath his feet, the air untainted by walls or windows... he moves with a pace that belies the sloth he had shown in the town. From time to time he prowls the side of the path, at others walking with almost a dance in his step. All the while his eyes dart all around, keeping cautious watch on their surroundings. This is a man meant for the outside world.

When the talk turns to politics and monsters, Culchas grips his spear tighter. It remains in his hand, sometimes as a walking stick, sometimes shadow fighting. But now he thoughtfully thumbs the sharpened tip. It shows nicks in it from striking bone and stone, and is a testament to many combats. "Along these lands I have seen many strange things. Beast or man, I often cannot tell the difference. I have killed things that could only have been dreamt up by dark sorcerers, and I have often found the man beneath the mask. I cannot tell you if they are real, for that is not my place to decide. My place is with the bloodied spear."

"Dig deep!" Syrena calls over one shoulder, as she pushes forth. "Destination is close and night is nigh upon ridge."

Exhausted after the journey, Gundus sits in silence for a time, fingering the bronze token of Tuweigh and pondering Haldoon's parting words. His thoughts begin to roam. The ruined aqueduct, Syrena's warnings about the wildness ahead, Culchas' strange tales, the coming storm... all meld together to portend some grim omen.

He should have sought the Seven's favour before leaving Amanuctum. Time had been pressing, true, but only a fool began an important journey without propitiating the gods. He would arrange a sacrifice in the morning; some fowl would do. Blood for the divinities, a hearty meal for the mortals - an auspicious beginning for their path into the true wilderness.

Gennadius spreads his gear out before him, carefully unpacking and then repacking everything, not unlike the evenings before each arena contest. Only this time he doesn't know what to expect. He hopes his nervous review comes across as a prudent, practice of an experienced veteran and not of a scared young man.

Culhas lingers outside the sheltered site longer than many, laying with his back on the ground and staring up into the skies. He sifts the earth through his fingers. He whispers names and oaths. And finally he rises and helps prepare the camping site for rest. He builds a fire and sets out wood to feed it through the night. All the while he says very little.