rokubiraijuu

Soon enough, the group fills out to something like it's usual size -- with the addition of a couple people he's never seen before. Curious, Idei has been watching the exchange between the fencer, the pegasus knight, and this new girl he doesn't recognize, when yet another group meanders their way over. And the one with them -- He starts slightly, though externally it amounts to little more than a few rapid blinks. The man with the guitar. Why would he show himself again when just moments before he had disappeared, making off with three hundred of his vespers? And accompanied by their healer and B . . . Be . . . the blue-haired spy. Do they know each other? No, it doesn't seem like it. Maybe any other man would have stood up and approached the musician -- demanded his money back or called him out for being a crook or made some sort of scene -- but though it's clear he recognizes him, Idei moves to do neither. While three hundred vespers isn't a light sum, he had offered them of his own free will; the fact that they had been taken without his being able to hear the music he had wanted . . . is disappointing, but not worth starting a fight over. Instead, he simply nods to his two allies with him to acknowledge their arrival before returning to waiting for their Commander to return.

The sudden vibration -- for that's what it is, not quite a note or even a sound but rather a powerful ripple in the air that seems to leave his very veins resonating with its frequency -- catches him off guard, more than enough for the man to snag the pouch of vespers from his hand and make his escape before Idei even has time to register that he's been tricked. However, the sudden loud boom also has the unwanted side effect of startling Kite, who rears slightly with a shrill neigh that drowns out the last fading resonance of the guitar's aftermath, tearing his reins from Idei's hand. He immediately reacts, turning to calm the alarmed horse, placing a hand on his neck and speaking to him, grabbing for the reins again lest he dash off and start a rampage in the marketplace. Thankfully, he had just been surprised, and settles down after a few skittish steps, but the combined ruckus has drawn the attention of others in the square, and he blushes to see multiple pairs of eyes on him as though incriminating him for the disturbance. "Shh, Kite. It's all right." Still passing a hand through the hair of his mane, he looks back to where the musician had stood moments before and sighs. He supposes he shouldn't have been surprised, with the way that man had spoken to him. Even with all the time he's spent in the city, he's still not used to this kind of double-crossing and greed. There had been bad people in the desert too, of course, but of a different kind. He doesn't understand this feverish need for money that seems to plague the rest of the world outside the desert; it had been apparent even in Arcadia, and pushes people to heights he couldn't have imagined. Well, he had been intending to give him the vespers anyway, so he's not much upset by the emptiness of his hand. There's a different kind of disappointment that lingers, and he can't help but wonder about that guitar. Soon, he decides to return to the fountain, thinking little more of the encounter. In his short absence, he finds that a few of his allies have already begun to regroup, and he frowns, feeling inexplicably like he keeps just barely missing everything that happens. A little sullen, he merely offers the other three a nod of acknowledgement before resuming his seat on the fountain's rim, assuming they're having some kind of conversation in which he has no part.

Thus far in his time with the Royal Guard, Idei might not have talked to many people -- even those he now calls his allies -- but it doesn't take much to see when a man isn't interested in being nice. In fact, he doesn't seem interested in anything to do with him, and Idei watches as he moves to pack up his few things; has he offended him? It's a fleeting thought, since prior to his approach the musician had been apparently content to mind his own business making music here on the side of the street. He clearly lacks that same innocuous, harmless look of most street performers that Idei has passed by, and while in hindsight that could be the reason for his meager earnings, at the moment he doesn't think much of the man's appearance, only of the music that's ended. " . . . " It's difficult for him to find a response when the stranger is so clearly not keen on being here, or even pretending to be so. At the same time, there's something reassuring in gruffness of his tone, as though it's an indicator of true honesty, however unpalatable. Thinking of it in this way helps a little, and he reaches further into the pouch fastened at his waist. "That's your decision," he replies. "Something you know well, from wherever you call home." He extends the now slightly heavier pouch with a slightly expectant look. "Three hundred. For something you're passionate about." Why has this man turned to music? He wants to find out through the listening of it.

He's always found that with his eyes closed, it's easier to be. The world grows bigger and louder when one can't see it, as though vision is itself limiting. Odd to think, for someone born and raised in a tribe of archers, but he's felt this way since he was a boy, sitting out near the steppe with his father and uncle and closing his eyes, listening to the strident mating calls of distant hawks as they circled far overhead. One becomes aware of so much that had until then been ignored, and what had there been the whistling pitch of the wind ( higher when bad weather was on the way ) here becomes the gentle burble of the fountain water, the laughter of passing children on the street. A melody of strings rises over the midday clamor after a minute or so, and for a little while, Idei focuses on that. The sound of strings comforts him. There's an instrument like it he had heard once in the short weeks he had spent in Arcadia, though there it had been tinnier and higher-pitched. Here, the quality of the sound is different, a little more resonant. Finally, he opens his eyes, intrigued by the sound; he gets up again and looks about for the source of it, eventually locating the man a few paces further down the street. Streetside musicians are not an uncommon sight in cities and town centers like this one, but he had never seen them in his youth. Kite gives a huff behind him and shakes his head, jingling the iron of his reins, and Idei waits until the man has finished with the present interlude and there is a pause in the song before stepping forward with a few vespers. This is what one does for street performers, right? "You play well," he remarks quietly. It isn't just a throwaway compliment, either; he had been born with something of an ear for music and can discern standards of quality apart from each other with some finesse. "Can I hear something else?"

Satisfied with his new acquisitions for the day, Idei makes his way back to the aforementioned fountain to wait for the others before he's seized by the urge to spend money on anything else that might catch his eye. He doesn't know what it is about new, unfamiliar places, but it always seems to make him less frugal than he normally is; it must be the novelty, he decides. Kite is thankful for the presence of the water, from which he leisurely takes a drink, tail swishing. Idei takes a seat on the edge of the stone rim, enjoying the sights of the marketplace and the sounds of guitar music as he awaits everyone's return.

It's unintentional, but his eyes wander to the most expensive item on the list -- he had never seen crossbows before Arcadia, and is still new to them, but has been curious about their use since doing basic training with them as a member of the royal guard. More than anything, it's their ability to strike at close range that intrigues him. This particular crossbow has another added feature as well: its arrows come prepackaged with a vial of venom. Hm. Poison-tipped arrows are a trade in the desert too, dipped in the corrosive blood of a special kind of lizard, and while this might be different, the principle is largely the same. But it's not the poison he's keen on -- rather, the other adjacent crossbows don't quite meet his expectations. One feels too weak in his hands, like a child's toy rather than something fit for a warrior. The other is clearly much too heavy the moment he hefts it in his arms; it would slow him and Kite down far too much. The poison weapon it is, pricier though it might be. These are the kinds of weapons forged for warfare; he ruminates briefly on how innovative people have become, always devising new and more brutal ways to kill each other. If it were possible to purchase the bow without the poison for a lower price, he wouldn't be opposed. But as it is, he might as well take the entire package to avoid having to discuss the issue with the shopkeeper for too long. "This one, please," he says, taking the weapon off the rack again and placing it down on the counter. It's a bit of extravagance on his part, but if this journey thus far has taught him anything, it's that there's no telling where they might end up next, so he supposes it's best to be prepared. Fork over 800 Vesps for Poison Crossbow.

Taking his time, Idei examines the arrangements on the shelves after giving a nod to the shopkeeper. There are, in fact, a few already-made saddles on the walls, but a careful inspection reveals them to be, of course, the local make, and not entirely what he's used to. The seat isn't high enough, the pommel and rear guard are too flat ( how is it supposed to prevent him from falling forward or backwards during battle? ) and the stirrups are too long. They look much like the saddles he's seen in the capital, and while every now and then he thinks to himself it might be best to adapt to the riding practices here, he can't simply shake millenia of tradition. Besides, Kite clearly stands out from the other horses on Veritias, and this kind of tack isn't suited for his shorter back. He'll have to continue making his own -- not a problem, in a long run. It's good to make sure he doesn't forget what his father taught him, and it's cheaper on the whole as well. After nearly twenty minutes, he makes his selection of basic metals, leather squares and strips, and some fabric as well as wood. This should be enough to work with, and it'll give him something to do on the ship other than sitting around being seasick. He purchases it from the kindly looking shopkeeper with the money he had saved up on the side before leaving with his new supplies tucked under an arm. "You've behaved. What a surprise," he muses with some humor to Kite, still standing innocuously where he had fastened him, nosing at some dry grasses at the base of the post. Loading the materials onto his back, he unties the horse and then continues on through the market. It's too early still to return to the rendezvous point at the fountain, so there's no harm in looking around a little more. As he's thinking that, his gaze falls on what seems to be a shop selling weaponry -- bows, specifically. Interest piqued, he makes his way across the main street towards it. Though he's only recently picked up the longbow from that archer with Karik's help, it's worth at least perusing the selection and making a note of prices and possibilities.

Another boat . . . ? Idei sighs internally, not eager to get back on one of those things after having just started being comfortable on land again. He looks to Kite apologetically, though of course the horse has no idea of the ordeal he's going to be going through again. "It'll be all right," he says, running a hand down the stallion's strong neck. When the time came, he would deal with it then. For now . . . Turning about, he looks from side to side, taking in all the stores and rows of buildings in the marketplace, bustling and lively. It's not like the capital, but it's still busier than what he's been used to for most of his life, and he doesn't realize until then how much he has been enjoying traveling with the others, if at least to be out of crowded places like the city. Taking Kite's reins in his hand, he leads the horse along as he searches for a place that might look like it sells tack, or materials to make some. Some kind of place with hardware and tools should do, right? Once he finds a place that looks suitable, he fastens Kite's reins to a post out front and, with a few words to behave himself while he's gone, he steps inside to look around for workable materials he can use to fashion a new saddle.

He's glad all the fighting is done. For what it's worth in combat experience, it taxes much more than it provides. Upon seeing that the man he had shot had not intended to be any sort of threat, he'd lowered his bow, keeping watch on him in case he chose to change his mind. But with the calls from the east indicating that the others had made short work of the bandits' leader, the man had simply fled before Idei could mark him. He could only hope that leaving him alive had been a good choice. Once they've established some semblance of camp for the evening, he's grateful for the pause. Kite's weariness outmatches his own; the stress of the day hasn't left the stallion unscathed, and he's breathing hard through his nostrils from trekking through the undergrowth. A little ways apart from the others but still close enough to the gathering to catch scant murmurings of conversation, he tends to the dark steed in the half-light. Tired like this, Kite even seems docile, and he simply stands quietly, tail occasionally whisking, while his rider washes him down with a cloth as best as he can to clean the sweat and grime from his coat and mane, speaking softly to him all the while.

Blur of red or not, Idei can see enough to realize that the group is splitting ( sort of ) into two parts -- why the fencer is moving off towards the west and separating from the rest of their allies, he doesn't know, but he can't simply let her go off on her own unprotected. Yet . . . his gaze lingers on the others moving further east towards the leader of the mob of bandits, seemingly unaware they're missing one of their allies. They have the right idea, in his opinion, but -- Tilting his weight to the side, he turns Kite around to follow behind where the fencer had gone, hoping he won't regret this. There's simply no way he can let an ally go off on their own. And as he draws closer to the trees, he can see a flicker of clothing through the brush that's decidedly not red; there are more bandits here! Regardless of whether or not the fencer is aware of the imminent danger, he decides to take the initiative first and ask questions later. Move to R5, shoot Merc 2 with Iron Bow, then Canto to R7.

" . . . Well, if it's going to be anything . . . "

It seems like at this point they're simply picking off the stragglers -- plucking the last feathers, as his tribesmen say. He supposes he might as well help, since on his horse, he has a far greater range of movement than the others can reach in the same amount of time. With a nod to the young healer who had tended to his injuries and a somewhat awkward but genuine smile, he urges Kite into motion with a quiet "yah", aiming for the mercenary he'd sighted further to the south, hoping to strike on the gallop and then veer out of the way after firing. Move to S10, attack Merc 3, then Canto to P10.

From his vantage point near the back, Idei barely sees the commotion with the bandit, but he's sure he could hear those screams even if he were farther away. A shudder runs down his spine; the ways of his people always endeavor to ensure a quick and painless death -- an arrow between the eyes, ideally -- and to see that kind of prolonged agony . . . is that even proper battle? Or does it transcend into torture? Now isn't the time to think on it. Shifting his weight, he directs Kite across the bridge. The stallion snorts and rears slightly to show his displeasure, but complies without much more cajoling, much to Idei's relief. After that display of magic power, he's not sure he has it in him to wrangle with his mount. He purposely turns his face away as he passes by the spot where the bandit's fallen corpse still lies crumpled on the ground, as though even looking at it might inflict the same miasma upon himself. Move to O12.

Karik! Seeing both enemies target the boy is enough to stir him into a slight panic, and he's almost concerned he'll see him fall a second time -- but by the grace of Mother Earth, he expertly weathers one attack and evades the second enemy, felling the first bandit in the process. Though he hardly knows him, Idei can't help the slight swell of pride he feels in his chest, as though he were watching one of the tribe boys shoot down his first hawk. Now it's time to do his part. "On your left," he says to Chirya and Belros as he gallops past them -- though with how softly he speaks, it might not be audible -- switching his Iron Bow for his fun new toy. It's more unwieldy than his smaller weapon, but its power and distance are familiar to him; these are more like the bows his tribe uses to snipe birds, and feel comfortable in his hands. After all, one can't hope to hit flying creatures with the short range of a regular bow. Move to K12, equip Iron Longbow, and snipe Bandit 6.

"Oh great, now I'm being handed off like some cargo -- " Frowning, Idei hefts the man off of Karik's hands, but gives his head a single shake. "No." Once the boy is relieved of the archer's weight and the coveted Longbow and its arrows are in his possession, he releases the weaponless archer's arm, taking a step back to indicate he can leave. " . . . You're letting me go?" Is it customary to kill defenseless prisoners without reason, for this man to ask with such surprise? "Your life isn't mine to take, unless in self-defense," he replies quickly. What savagery that would be -- he'd be no less than a murderer. Raising up the new longbow briefly though, he allows a touch of mirth to enter his expression. "Thank you." And then, fleetingly, it's gone, and so is he, taking Kite and himself out of range. "Fight well, and swiftly," he says to Karik with a nod. "And be careful." Release Archer 3 and Canto to K9.

His gaze follows the series of events carefully -- their shaman striking at the archer, followed quickly by the boy's own advance into the river waters; Idei expects him to simply finish the man off, but surprisingly, when the archer drifts downstream towards him, he picks the man up instead, as Idei recalls him doing with the mercenary back on the ship. That longbow . . . Gently urging his steed forward, Idei maneuvers over to Karik's side, keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding enemies who still pose a danger. "Let me take him," he offers, indicating the injured archer with a nod of his head as he extends a hand down to heft the man onto Kite's back. The added weight will slow him down, but he should be able to get out of enemy fire -- it's more important that Karik not be burdened if he's going to be fending off the rest of the bandits. "And," A shadow of a smile crosses his lips; there's no disguising the eagerness in his eyes. "If you have no intention of using that bow . . . " Move to L10 and Initiate Take and Trade with Karik.

Seeing his allies starting to move into position to, presumably, tackle the cluster of enemies situated on the bridge, Idei spurs Kite into motion as well, selecting a place from which he would be able to easily launch an offensive when the time comes. Move to K12 and Wait.

Catching sight of the their mage rushing off out of the corner of his eye, Idei turns to see the chaos unfolding further back on the field. Their healer is crouched on the ground, the glow of her staff visible even from this distance, and in front of her, difficult to see even for him, surrounded by enemies as she is, he can make out the crimson of the fencer's hair. " -- I need to go help," he says quickly to Karik; though their intention had initially been to cross the land bridge, he feels he's needed with the others, and no Nayavu abandons their friends and sets out on their own. Pulling on Kite's reins, he spins the stallion about and urges him into a fast gallop to cover the distance as swiftly as he can. Gripping hard with both legs, he removes another arrow and notches it, lips pursed as they draw close to the fray. Move to H9 and feather Soldier 1.

Karik's shift in tone is enough for Idei to understand what he must be feeling. Maybe the boy's journey and circumstances are different from his own, but there's at least one thing he can comprehend. As he also turns to return his attention to the remainder of the bandits waiting for them across the river, he feels a certainty settle somewhere inside him. "I, too, am only here because I've . . . lost sight of my home." Yells and screams drowned out by the roar of sand and wind. The terrifying sensation of being utterly alone for the first time, surrounded by vast emptiness, and not knowing whether there would ever be a where or whom to which he could return . . . it feels like yesterday. And even now, he trembles to think about the possibilities. "One day, I will find my way back. But first, I'll help you."

Much to Idei's surprise, the stallion neither shies away nor acts aggressive to the boy's touch, simply standing still and letting the stranger's hand through his mane. It's almost unbelievable, given his usual wary temperament. Even when he had been growing up in near-constant contact with his uncle's herd, Kite would hardly let him come close for years. It was an honor, not only due to tradition, but also personal achievement, when he was finally able to ride the unruly animal. At his words, Kite simply snorts again -- perfectly timed, as though to scorn the idea that he should need to be carried -- and Idei huffs softly in amusement. If there's any way to get Kite to do something, it's to indicate there's a chip on his pride if he doesn't; he recalls how, when they had first arrived in Veritias, he would only eat the unfamiliar oats once he saw that the other horses were getting his untouched share if he didn't. "I'm . . . not sure about that," he replies, a little subdued and caught off guard by the praise. Karik's is a response he's not used to, and Idei hopes he hadn't unintentionally sounded like he'd been boasting. A story? . . . Nothing terribly different from what every boy in his tribe goes through. But he supposes that any of that is foreign enough to those outside of the sands that it would be worth a story. "Well . . . when I was just learning the bow, I accidentally shot one of the horses once." He winces. "Just on the flank, and the practice arrows are blunted and wrapped in cloth. No harm done, but that horse hasn't liked me since." It's not much of a story, but he's never been great at telling them. Turning his attention back to the boy, he returns the question with one of his own: "You said you want to go back to Veritias. Is your family there?"

Irritated with his miss, he tsks under his breath, scowling slightly. Not a beat later though, dark magic envelops the myrmidon and downs him silently, and Idei turns to see their shaman drawing up beside him, the remnants of magic fading from his tome. "Thank you," he says with a sigh; he shouldn't had to have relied on allies to clean up his targets for him, but he knows he still has a long way to go before becoming a master marksman like his father. A call draws his attention and he turns to face the boy, eyebrows lifted -- to be honest, he's surprised he remembered his name. Shifting his gaze down to Kite, Idei spurs him into a careful trot closer to the river's edge to take a closer look. Almost immediately, Kite's ears press back towards the top of his head and his steps become more resistant. As they pause nearby, the stallion skitters back from the water's edge, stamping in agitation and snorting softly. "He'll have to be," Idei says, combing his fingers through the long, dark mane. "I trust he'll do it; he's brave, and proud." There looks to be one of the men waiting for them across the shallow river path, and Idei suspects he'll be coming for them as soon as he realizes they're within his sights. "You've fought well for someone who's never seen battle before," he says to Karik. "It's hard to believe. In my tribe, all boys are taught to fire an arrow from the time they can ride." Canto to K5.

Now that they've cleared out the bandits in the immediate surrounding area, Idei sets his sights on enemies further away. Save for the cluster on the bridge, they don't seem to be grouped very densely. Perhaps they had been aiming to surround them . . . if so, their maneuver has clearly failed, since they've broken through their initial ranks and can now pick them off in isolated groups with relative ease. The sound of a clash in the trees not far away tells him that Madante has engaged with one of them; quickly, he turns Kite around to go and help. A flicker of steel in the trees tells him it's a swordsman. Agile, and even moreso in trees. "Commander!" he calls briefly, to alert him to his presence and intention to help; pulling Kite to a stop to take better aim, he draws the bowstring to his cheek. Stay still . . . Move to I6 and shoot Myrmidon 3.

His allies are doing a good job taking care of the scattered enemies around them, and the mage who had taken an arrow from the archer doesn't seem to be severely injured, as he quickly finishes off the man with a strong retaliation. Idei sets his sights on the thief darting by near the bandit, and spurs his steed into a quick trot to intercept him. Thieves are notoriously quick on their feet, but he hopes that with some luck, his aim will prove true. Move to F7 and shoot Thief 1.

It seems Kite's true reply to Idei's question comes a moment later as they draw up beside the thicket of trees to his left. There's traces of red concealed within the foliage where their fencer has hidden herself, and at first he looses the arrow -- as he realizes a heartbeat afterwards -- a touch too early, and his stomach drops slightly at the sudden knowledge that it might not meet its mark. What he hadn't accounted for, however, is the way Kite had read his movements just prior, the subtle tightening his legs the instant before he fired, and turned his body to the side just far enough mid-canter to direct the arrow to its proper target -- Which, as the unfortunate bandit finds just as he turns around to meet his new adversary, is the center of his forehead. His death is instantaneous as he topples backwards from impact. Despite himself, Idei finds a small grin spreading across his features as Kite completes the turn at his guidance and rides back towards the rest of their party, seamlessly, without breaking stride for a moment. "Haha . . . " He even allows himself a small laugh, just under his voice and soft enough that most would miss it, but triumphant nonetheless. Canto to D6.

More bandits . . . ? Exhaling slowly through his nose, he pulls himself carefully onto Kite's back. Thankfully, their hours of travel and slight respite have calmed the steed down somewhat, and he has returned to more or less his usual state, though more subdued than before. Idei is sure that he will return to his old temperament given a little bit of time; he had been like this in the desert when the disaster had struck, too, and had recovered well enough in Arcanos. The lack of a saddle is a slight concern, but he has ridden a horse bareback before on many occasions, though never for a prolonged period of time. With luck, they'll find a town before too long and he can acquire the tools needed to begin making his own. Settling himself on Kite, he murmurs a low apology to the mount with a rub to his neck, then guides him forward with a subtle shift of his body weight. It'll be a little harder to shoot and direct the stallion without his stirrups, but there's nothing that can be done. He'll just have to move slowly and avoid sudden motions that might throw him from Kite's back. "You're still with me, aren't you? Remember, it's just us for a long time, Kite." His only response is the horse's ears rotating backwards slightly to pick up his words, but they're both more focused on the enemies now anyway, and he quietly notches an arrow to his bow, testing the breeze. Move to D8 and shoot Bandit 2.