The Dragon's Road [ 1x1]

aryamajor

aryamajor

Curious Adventurer
Benefactor
The trail was the roughest one she had seen so far. Where there wasn't mud sucking at her boots, there were rocks and roots just asking to be tripped over. Not to mention, she hadn't seen a soul using the road all morning, which was unsettling. The old woman from the last village told her the path was safe, but she was starting to have her doubts. Bandits and thieves, even slavers, wouldn't be terribly uncommon in these parts. They stayed hidden in the dense thickets of the roadside waiting for travelers to spring on, taking the for all their worth. Of course, the joke would be on any robber who confronted her. She didn't have anything worth taking.

A chilly wind swept through, making the tree branches creak and groan over the hushed whispering of the leaves. The bitter cold winds would be something she wouldn't miss about the Northlands in the slightest. She tugged her hood higher over her head, trying to keep her ears from freezing, and continued down the path. As she walked the path became more narrow, with the trees encroaching into the road. A perfect place for robbers, to spring. Her hand slipped to the small dagger on her belt, curling around the pommel tightly. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Rounding the corner with quick strides, she glanced behind to make sure nobody was there, and then turned back only to see a figure standing in front of her. Immediately, she whipped out her dagger, and glared at the figure. Whether he was a traveler or a robber, she wasn't going to take a chance. "Stay back."
 
The encounter had been just as sudden for the stranger as it had been for her. The similarly cloaked figure was quick to throw his hands up and stop moving the moment there was a blade drawn on him. This was certainly something he hadn't been expecting this though one look at him probably gave away that he wasn't thinking ahead for this trip. He was far too nicely dressed to be traveling these roads on foot, the only part of his ensemble that didn't match the quality of the rest being his boots that were trying to keep the mud at bay. On top of that he had no visible weapons to speak of and even with features obscured under his hood he seemed quite shaken by this apparent mugging.

"I-I don't have anything, miss, really," he tried to insist. As if the clothes on his back and the gem adornment below his neck weren't worth a few gold.
 
She scowled at the man as she scanned him over. Even under his cloak she could tell he was well off. His cloak was finely made and something glittered at his neck. Compared to her shabby cloak and mudstained leggings, he looked like a lord. In her experience, rich men were just a dangerous as poor thieves, though he did seem just as surprised as she was. The stranger had yet to pull put a weapon either.

"You have something if you're walking around here, dressed like that," she replied, lowering the dagger just a little.
 
He was quick to notice that the dagger lowered ever so slightly though it didn't mean he was out of the woods just yet. He kept his hands where she could see him as he tried his best to not move too much as he tried to stay in place. It wasn't entirely clear if this was still a mugging or not but he wouldn't be surprised if it turned to one given her own state. He'd seen a lot of people do a lot of foolish things when they're desperate. A dagger wasn't something to sneeze at in his situation.

"Would it make my situation worse to admit that's largely due to me being lost?" he asked, laughing nervously under his hood as he tried to keep his head down.
 
"It makes you sound like an idiot or a liar," she grumbled. He was keeping his hands up and visible, as if he meant no harm. Was he not armed? Or simply waiting for her to lower her weapon more?

"You lower your hood?" She asked. It wasn't a command so much as a request.
 
He flinched ever so slightly at her insult but his reaction to her 'request' was a bit slower and uncertain. Maybe because he was wondering why his face mattered in this situation or maybe he was fearful that moving his hands, even on her request, was a bad move. He nodded regardless and slowly brought his hands to the sides of his hood and drew it back ever so carefully.

For a moment she might almost mistake the figure for a woman. His features were certainly softer than most and the long hair didn't help it by much but a quick look at his figure and hearing his voice gave him away as a man, albeit a young one. It was doubtful he was a day over twenty. Perhaps more prominent than his youth or femininity was the shade of his hair. It dangled somewhere between grey and silver, an unnatural color for a human especially of his age. His bangs were long of spiked, push to the sides to keep them out of his face while the back was done up in a neatly twisted ponytail. His eyes were a similar foggy grey and filled with the same nervousness the rest of his face showed.
 
The man had the strangest features she'd ever seen. Silver hair on such a young, yet feminine looking rich man? He didn't look like a robber or capable of attacking her, really. Still the eyes on a person would tell all. She looked at the silvery grey eyes of the man, from the safety of her own hood, and studied them carefully. Nervousness, and no ill will that she could discern.

With a sigh, she flicked the dagger away and slide it home into the sheath on her belt. "You're not a liar, at least. This is a less than savory spot to be lost in."
 
He let out an audible sigh of relief as the dagger was put away, ever so slowly lowering his arms as she seemed to trust him. Or at least not distrust him enough to keep a blade on him. Eventually his hands rested at his sides once again as he tried to explain his situation.

"It's honestly my fault. Normally I'm much better about checking roads and taking my time but... well..." He gulped and shook his head as if trying to brush away less than desirable memories. "It certainly did me no good to stay in Elmsworth."
 
The man seemed almost too nervous to talk, even when didn't have a dagger pointed at his belly. She had never heard of the place he spoke of. Must be a Southerly city. But what had he done to make himself unwelcome there? Or was it just unsafe like the Northlands.
Her eyes narrowed for a moment, as she looked him over again. He didn't look like much of a trouble maker and his eyes said as much.
"Never heard of the place, but I can tell you that you won't find any safe place in the Northlands. Nothing but warring Lords, rogues, and cold up here. I'm trying to get out of there myself."
 
"You've perhaps found a bad time to be moving then, miss," he told her, trying to catch her gaze even with her hood up if only to help calm his own nerves. "Elmsworth is the only town you're going to reach going this way and it's been beset by misfortune. There was a... murder." He spoke the last word as if trying to keep the conversation private out here in the middle of nowhere with no one else around. He looked around as if that was truly his worry before he told her, "I think it's best if you turn back and go to wherever you came from."
 
Her hand slipped back to her dagger pommel at the mention of 'murder' and she shot him a look from under her cowl. He was whispering as if someone were out here listening to them talk. " Murder?" she asked firmly, " And I didn't just leave for the fun of it. There's nothing to go back to. My village was razed to the ground by rogues. It's either leave or starve. I didn't like the second option."
 
"Oh. Oh Gods, I am so sorry," he said, the apparent fear melting away as concern took it's place. His concern for his own life was apparently trumped by the suffering of a total stranger if only for the moment. "I didn't realize... I suppose that means the Northlands aren't in any state to be visited if you're just leaving all that behind. Though I wouldn't recommend staying in Elmsworth long." There was a moment of silence as he looked at her, his eyes suddenly curious as he tried to give her a once over. A few seconds passed before he asked, "Feel free to decline but we are traveling back the same way now. Would you mind terribly if I went with you for a time?"
 
His sentiment did no good for the dead villagers she'd left behind, but it the gesture was a kind one. More than she would have expected from a rich man. She noticed him trying to inspect her, as she had done him, and the request to travel as a pair came as a surprise. He was leaving this Elmsworth place for his own reasons, but now at least he realized the Northlands were no better. Thinking over the suggestion for a moment, she eventually nodded. It was better to travel in company as made you look like less of an easy target. One person wasn't intimidating to a robber, but two could be a hassle.
"Aye, we might as well. It's better to travel in pairs around here," she replied, " No tricks though. I know how to use a dagger well enough to dispatch someone if I have to."
 
"Oh, thank you so much. Trust me, I have no intention of making trouble. I just want to keep my travels safe," he assured her, putting on a semi-calm smile to try and put the both of them at ease. He hadn't expected her to allow this after such early suspicion but he had to assume she didn't see him as much of a threat despite the her continuous threats. She seemed stable enough to convince him they were empty as long as he played nice.
 
He was oddly polite, which definitely marked him as a man with wealthy upbringing. Nobody else used language like that, at least not around where she had come from. "C'mon then," she said, brushing past him on the small trail. She had no wish to be caught on the road when darkness fell.
After awhile of walking in the silence, broken only by the occasional splash of mud or heavy foot fall, she glanced at the man. He looked as odd as he spoke with all that long silver hair and her curiosity was getting the better of her. "What's your name? Is it common for people to have silver hair in the Southerly lands?"
 
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With her cloak still on he didn't see much a point in bothering to get a look at her but with his face revealed he was quick to notice that she wasn't showing the same courtesy. Of course maybe it was just so awkward due to the utter silence between them. He had nothing to say and clearly she was more interested in trying to figure out what his deal was. Granted he was an odd sight out of place in this murky sort of environment. When she did finally speak up it was almost out of nowhere and rather to the point on a matter he wasn't surprised to be hearing about.

"Jeremiah Anderson, at your service. And, no... I'm the only person I know with hair like this."
 
The man had two names and was oddity even among his own people apparently. Hers was going to sound inadequate compared to that. She paused on the road for him to catch up beside her before lifting her head just enough for him to see her amethyst eyes.

"Quinn. My name is Quinn."

She left it at that for awhile, thinking over this Jeremiah Anderson man. He was looked innocent enough, but did an innocent man run from his own town for a murder if it wasn't his doing. Then again, maybe he was just a coward.

"Tell me more about this Elmswood," she finally added, "You left because-"

Her words were cut short by a rustling in the underbrush just ahead of them.
 
Maybe he shouldn't have admitted that. Even something as harmless as having a strange hair color might be considered something worth keeping an eye on him for. Or maybe she was giving him a funny look over his name. She only returned it with her first name -- maybe. Did Northlanders even have surnames? This was honest to the gods the first time he'd met one before. Though it seemed the stories were true about them being a bit rough around the edges. He wasn't expecting those eyes though. Intense, yes, but a truly beautiful color.

He was ready to answer her about what she asked -- starting with a correction of how she said 'Elmswood' instead of 'Elmsworth' -- when he too shut his mouth tight at the sound of rustling in the undergrowth. He tensed up and took a step back, his actions clashing with his words as he told her, "I'm sure it's nothing."
 
At the sound of rustling bushes, Quinn pulled out her dagger and Jeremiah started back pedaling. This man was a bit faint of heart to be traveling alone in the Northlands, it seemed. Ignoring him, she pointed her dagger toward the bushes bent her knees a little, ready to strike of she had to. Her own heart was starting to pound as the bush rattled almost violently and suddenly....a bunny scampered out.

It was brown and its pink nose twitched as it looked them over sitting directly in the middle of the road. Quinn gazed at the rabbit, then to her dagger and back again before she started to chuckle. "Set upon by a rabbit," she laughed, " I suppose you were right, Jeremiah."
 
Despite his own words of comfort there was an audible sigh of relief when he saw that it was just an innocent little bunny. It was probably only her seriousness that had him fearing what might come out at any moment. There was nothing all that dangerous in this part of the Southlands. Travel was so sparse that most bandits didn't waste their time on it and the animals around here really only attacked if you bothered them. He began to walk forward, smiling as he told her, "See, nothing to worry about. At least until Elmsworth. You were saying?"
 
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