Fantasy There is only one

[kevintheradioguy]

It was a dark, gloomy night, skies clad in whirling clouds, thick enough to turn the moon into the blurred, barely visible circle in the skies, but not low enough to predict a storm. A small, nasty rain fell on the damp soil... barely even a rain. Something in between a fog and a drizzle, drops small, barely even noticeable, falling fast, as if made of granite. Absolutely disgusting weather, which made too many people growl into the skies, mentally yelling "Just make up your mind already!", wanting the nature to whether start a real thunder, or proceed with the fog.

Further from the narrow dirt road through the plains, cut from it by a small, but thick grove - probably a courtesy of a dryad or a treeant - on a small rocky hill, there was a fire, crackling and burning almost impossibly well for the weather around, with a small cooking pot, bubbling with some nice-smelling brew, its aroma crawling between the trees and the shrubs into the thicker parts of the grove, and disappearing in it. Two figured sat by it. A fairly large, munching and slurping as it gnawed on something dog: its rose ears flyffy, and fur long, like of shepherd's dogs. The ribbon around its neck was dirty, and the burgundy colour barely noticeable. And a man, leaning over a rick, hood covering his head from the drops, arms crossed and shoulders up, as if he was insulted by the weather around. At his side, on a bedroll, was a large backpack, not even half-full by the looks of it. He looked both like experienced traveller and not. On one hand, the backpack was worn, and the clothes were suiting for walking: comfortable shoes, long coat with a thick hood to fight the weather, all clothes made from good, soft leather, a simple rapier still on his belt waiting to be used against any wildlife or ne'er-do-wells. But on the other hand, it did not look like he had a lot of things with him. Not even a tent. Maybe it was a short distance to walk, but with a weather like this people usually tended to pack up more.

Sill chomping with mouth opening wide and slurping round, the dog lifted its face, scanning the surroundings as it heard a few branches break, but dismissed it as another animal in the woods, getting to her food soon. It was wet. Much wetter than it should've been under this 'rain'. Probably a result of a wide river on the opposite to the road sign of them - usually reflecting the light of the stars, but now black, and silent, looking more like a turf of a big field underneath the hill. The man, however, didn't heat the sound, or just didn't bother to check. He was whether sleeping, or deep in his thoughts, only occasionally bobbing his head, as if nodding to an unseen and unheard person.

 

[Slayer]

The weather was formidable, having no mercy on those that preferred the radiating heat of the summer. The misty rain that filled the air cause the already dying leave on the trees to fall from the weight of the liquid. A soft patpat followed as the leaves fell around the figure. The crunching, that would usually be the result of feet against the dead leaves, was muffled as the moisture was absorbed. A pair of cloth covered feet moved slowly, methodically, through the trees. The sound of a crackling fire in the distance.

The dark figure blended with the shadows, its black cloak made just for that purpose. Ahead of the figure was the stumbling body of a man. A trail of blood followed, his gasping breath the gurgling of fluids in the mans mouth resembled the sound of a drowning animal. /Let him suffer/ a voice inside the mind of the dark elf echoed. The voice was deep, malicious, and full of influence.

Silver eyes relfected the small amount of light peering through the balding branches of the trees. The taller figure of the elf took longer strides as the dying man fell and started to drag himself from the bushes and toward the only light within a 10 mile radius. "Please...please help meee" The man pleaded, his face bloodied and swollen. A quivering hand reached toward the only hope that he may have had to save his life. "Pl-" the words were cut short when a dagger shot from the trees and lodged itself into the back of the man's skull with a sickening crack.

A smog like substance errupted from the man as the 5'9" figure approached confidentially from the trees as if in a trance. The smoke flowing from the body into the nostrils and mouth of the elf as she took a deep breath in. Devouring the esscence of the fallen had become normal for the woman. Silver eyes peered at the strangers that were not far off, the dog had seemed to catch her attention immediately. The elf stared at the dog for a moment, "I apologize, you should not have had to witness that" her voice was rather calm and collected as she apologized to the creature. Leaving little care that the other stranger had witnessed it as well.

The scent of food filled her nostrils her eyes jumping to the pot. The stomach of the elf growled, the demon may have been fed but the elf couldn't survive off of disembodied souls. The personality and demeanor changed as the woman had grabbed her knife from the man's skull and shook the blood from it. "Oh Im starvin' I dont suppose you'd have some extra?..." the elf had placed the knife back under her cloak and held up her hands cautiously to show little threat. A smile crossed her pale, grayish toned face. It was always best to try the nice approach first right?

The whole ordeal hadnt lasted for more than a couple of minutes. From the elf killing the man to asking a stranger for food as if nothing had happened. The personality of the elf woman flipping quicker than a coin, especially when food was involved.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

The man looked up seeing the male figure fall in front of them, his hand swiftly lying on the rapier's hilt. He inhaled to answer, when the dog jumped up, barking, disturbed by the intrusion, smell of blood and adrenaline, making the man wince under his hood, unseen by whoever that was. 'Oh, shut up.' he thought in regards to the dog, but didn't say it. He had more important business to attend to: that being a bleeding man in front of him. If there were bandits nearby... oh boy, he did not like the prospect of that. He wore some weapons, yes. Mostly for the show. He knew some fencing, but his real strength was lying in knowledge, not combat. It was safe to say that he'd much rather flee a battle - something he would hate to admit out loud, but saw to real shame in.

A normal person would've probably darted forwards, trying to drag the man towards the fire, help him out, but... not the hooded man. He watched, curious, waiting for the dog to keep quiet before talking. That is when the atrack, followed swiftly by eerie smoke started.

Once more, a normal person would be afraid, falling backwards and trying to flee, but his first thought was 'A demon!?', followed shortly by slight excitement, heart skipping a beat, eyes glistening under the hood. It... didn't last for long when instead of a terrifying horned thing, a female figure appeared. 'Oh. Just an assassin.' was a followup disappointment thought, and he took the hand off the blade, crossing his arms once more, trying to expose himself to the rain as little as possible. He had no quarrels with assassins, thieves, thugs... hell, he was officially a member of the Swordcoast Pirates, even though not a sailor, and fairly disliking sailing - just officially, and mutually beneficial. They had their niche, and he never shared the idolised idea that they are inherently evil and should be destroyed. 'For as long as people live, they will want to kill each other, even if there are only two of them left. Blaming an assassin is like blaming a sword. No demand - no supply, the rules are simple.' Besides, it better be assassin than a bandit. Bandits will just cut your throat for how little money you had. Assassins are most likely not to attack, as no they don't have a contract on you, so why bother doing work for free?

He looked the figure up and down in the bright light of the fire, smirking. "What a unique way of introduction. I love fast women... SHUT UP!" His head snapped to the dog, promptly making it close its mouth, and switch to low, uneasy growls. Though it wasn't needed: his voice was extremely low, crackling like the fire in front of him, but it was very well... set, so to speak. Trained. He seemed that he could've been talking quietly in a crowded area, and still be heard, like a drill sergeant or alike. He leaned to the side, trying to look inquiring at the body, albeit the dark shadow from the low hood prevented from noticing the expression. "Maybe." He replied. "If you clean up after yourself." His head lifted up a little. The man spoke with a slight, but still remarkable accent, having his Rs and Ts sharp and rough, and vowels - deep. It was hard to tell which it was exactly, however. "Call me squeamish." He added, voice oozing with sarcasm, as he sighed, first pulling his legs up to his chest, and then rolling down on his knees, reaching out to check on the thick stew over the fire, and hemming, not quite being satisfied with it yet. He didn't have a spoon for stirring, using a washed and cleaned of bark stick instead to stir it, revealing dark skin and thick red nails just for a few seconds to do so, quickly hiding his hand again, hating the moist. The stirred stew bloomed with the smell of herbs, carrot, potato, and some sort of fat meat, but he did not find it to be ready yet. He darted a quick glare at the woman, considering asking what the hell was that all about, but decided to save that for later... or not ask at all. If there was some assassin guild around, he better not get involved into their business. It would be a mutually beneficial relationship: he doesn't get in their way - they don't get in his.

 

[Slayer]

The situation was quite interesting to the woman. The man didn't show any signs of fear despite the display of brutality that he had witnessed. The man hadn't tried to flee, his dog remaining vocal until it was yelled at for doing so. His voice making her raise a brow slightly, he didnt speak to his friend very nicely.

A curious cord struck within the woman as she obseved the actions of the man she faced. /Dont bother. Just kill the bastard and the pathetic beast/ the demon hissed inside her mind. At one point the elf would not have had the power to stop the possessing demon from doing what it wished. It has been years now with the rare occasion of the demon gaining control of her words but rarely her actions.

The woman looked down at the body of the man she had left to decompose. It wasn't that she cared if he was squimish, it wasnt really her problem. But, she wanted to ensure that her stomach was fed without any further effort put into killing someone else. /He wouldnt have to look at the body if he didnt have eyes/ the demon commented. This was the ugly truth about having the entity of a demon thrust into her life. She could control her actions but she couldnt shut the monster up. A slight frown crossed her lips as she reached out with a foot and nudged the corpse. It wasnt that she expected it to come alive, but moving bodies was a pain in the ass. With a deep breath she positioned herself at the feet of the man and reached down. Taking hold of the ankles, the body already experiancing rigor mortis. The joints had stiffened causing the body to take an odd position as rhe elf lifted the legs and started to pull it into the bush. The woman didnt have the best upper body strength, her abilities were mainly with long range battle. Keeping herself out of anything that involved having to use brute strength. "Clean up" the elf huffed under her breath, holding the groan on as she tugged on the body.

Stepping back through the trees after dumping the body her eyes focused on the movement of his hand. Catching a short glimpse of red as the mans hand slipped back into the cover of his jacket. /You are a FOOL/ one would think that the demon would tire of insulting the elf, but it had yet to stop. The woman walked back to the fire once the body was hidden. "Satisfied?" She looked down at the cooking pot of stew. It didnt smell particularly exciting and it wasnt anything special but it would be better than nothing. The faint glow of the flames catching her pail skin, allowing for more of her facial features to be seen. A slim face, the blue tone more noticable in her skin. Four points seemed to be noticable from under her hood. Two from the long ears that her people were well known for. The second pair could leave someone guessing as to what kind of deformity she may have been cursed with.

"They call me Petra" she looked at him briefly and then back at the pot. "I thank you for your generous offering" she mentioned with a smile and assuming tone, not really giving him the option for backing out now. "That bastard had me hunting since mid-noon two days ago" she chuckled, speaking to the stranger as if they had been sitting in a tavern. It wasnt that she wanted to make friends but it was a lot less awkward than standing there quietly, watching the stew boil and drooling. At least if she spoke she wouldnt have to worry about cleaning off the saliva off her chin. The elf showing very little caution now while the demon continued to insult her intelligence in the dark pits of her mind.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

Satisfied? Barely! With hot blood boiling in his veins, the man was hardly ever satisfied. Let alone - happy. "No." He replied with absolute honesty. "But that is hardly your fault." He sat there, tapping his fingers under the coat, showing a moderate interest in the woman. 'Another elf.' He pursed his lips. He disliked elves. Too proud, too posh, too big-headed, too arrogant. Most of the elves, seeing how their lifespan is one of the longest in the lands, saw themselves as much superior to others. They were magically inclined, they were classically beautiful, they were living for a few dozen decades, and they were absolutely unbearable to be around. 'Except wood elves.' He added. Wild ones were nice enough in his opinion. Simple and practical. Of course, irony escaped him: he himself was... arrogant... big-headed... proud... and posh.

He waved his hand in the general direction of the corpse. "Part of me wants to say that you have hunted down two hundred pounds of meat, still fresh over there." Even with a hood, a small grin could be felt. "It's not cannibalism. Technically it isn't."

He once more checked on the stew. Excitement in regards to a prospect of a small talk was... lacking, to say the least. He was tired, irritated with the weather, and deep in the woods - things he did not exactly appreciate. "Am I right to assume that you do not carry a mess kit with you?" He asked, checking on the stew. "Squirrel." He added. "Much better than you might assume." He was no cook, of course, and only could prepare a decent meal during the travels with what he found around. Most magic was in the dried herbs, though, he managed to buy a few weeks back, albeit he fairly enjoyed squirrel stew as it was. So did the dog, eagerly gulping down crushed bones with pieces of meat left on them.

"You are very tall for an elf." He noted nonchalantly, not really knowing what exactly did he expect to get for an answer.

 

[Slayer]

The man's response to her inquiry had made her believe he wouldn't be easy to please. Not that she was interested in trying to please him, nor did she care. The man seemed to be pretty drab, but that could be because of the weather. The weather often influenced the mood of others, she herself didnt much care if it was storming or sunny, why care about something that she had no ability to change? Then again, her theory could be wrong, the man could just have a stick up his ass.

The comment on the 200lbs of fresh meat that she had just hunted made her glance toward the bush. "I have had my fair share of human flesh in the past" her thoughts flashed back to a time that she tried so diligently to forget. Blood dripping from her mouth, the taste of iron filling her system. Screams of the demons victims as they tried to defend themselves from getting devoured alive. All were quite unpleasent thoughts. "I would prefer to stay away from it as much as possible" she stated back in a matter-of- fact tone with a sarcastic grin. Once again not really giving him an option to refuse the obligation to share the stew.

Observing the man as he checked the status of the grub her eyes focusing on his hand. "A mess kit? I am an assassin, not a chef" she pointed out in a literal and blunt tone. "We dont carry much on our persons" she looked at his bag and bedroll, unnecessary weight in her opinion. Then again, in moments like this, a mess kit would prove convenient. Roasting game was the approach that she used most often, negating the need for any cutlery or bowls. Sure it made for a bland meal but it was necessary nourishment. "Squirrel. Much better than human flesh as well" Petra confirmed with a grin.

His next comment made her raise a brow. He was judging her by her height? Did she intimidate him? She looked down at her feet and then again at him. "You're observant arent you?" She questioned bluntly and crossed her arms underneath her cloak. "My mother was a great tree. My father a sick man" she chuckled at the fabrication of her past. "Enough about me, what brings you to this location? Surly you would rather be in an Inn out of the rain." The small talk didnt seem to be either of their forte but it was still less awkward than standing there in silence.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

He smirked a "So everyone but chefs eat with their bare hands, then?" He considered sharing his for a moment. There was a simple bowl and spoon there - specifically in case he ever decided to make something watery. Thing was, he didn't have a spare set. In his own mind, he considered that it was actually her own fault she didn't have any travelling equipment with her, so why share?

To the notion of eating human he just shrugged. As much as he didn't care about assassins, he didn't care about cannibals or man-eaters... hell, he would shrug off pretty much anything unless it directly tied to himself! Flexible morals was a great thing for mental peace.

"You don't have to be a master of perception to notice that someone has at least a foot over the normal height of their species." The man noted nonchalantly. He was used to small and slender elves, and it was really hard to miss one who was at least six feet tall, towering over the rest... well, if there was a 'rest' around. He'd expect someone as tall to be a human, or an orc... or at least a half-elf.

"You call this a rain?" He smirked once more, leaning to the backpack to fish out a bowl. It was easy with how little things he owned. "This is a heavy mist or some other nonsense like this. Turn up temperature a few dozed degrees, and this would be a fucking sauna." Saying this, he carefully dipped the bowl in the pot, trying to fill it as much as possible with as little of it getting dirty with broth as he could, after which the bowl was carefully passed towards the woman. Dog's ears perked up, but soon fell again, as it realised the treat was not for it, but a newcomer instead, so it returned to her business of munching on squirrel leftovers, slurping loud enough to be heard by the entire clearing.

 

[Slayer]

The woman chuckled, he made a good point about the chefs. "Maybe not, but have you met a chef without a mess kit? I was simply compairing jobs" she mentioned, her tone smooth but holding spme amusement. /This man is NOT worth your time. You could have killed him three times over and had the stew for yourself/ the saying of 'if you dont have anything nice to day, dont say it at all' did not apply to the demonic presence in her thoughts. It wasnt often that the elf replied to the demon, as it would cause more chaos to build betwen them. It was part of a mutually beneficial agreement between the two parties that had been forced together unwillingly.

"For someone who acts like he knows so much...have you made acquaintance with every elf?" She questioned, once again amused. "How is it that you can assume all elf breeds are relatively the same height if you have not had the opertunity to observe them all?" She put her hands on her hips and laughed again. "You are amusing aren't you? But you're also right. Im not average" with a sly wink she took a seat. It wasnt that she was letting her guard down, but decided to rest her weary legs.

"Very well. In that case allow me to rephrase myself" she cleared her throat. "Judging by the way that youre trying to avoid allowing the moisture in the air make contact with your skin. You would much rather be in a place that is protected from the element? Of course this brings the question as to why you do not have a tent" reaching out she leaned forward to grab the offering from him. "Would you like to continue dancing around the question as to why you are here? Of course you dont HAVE to answer, but it would only be fair as you know why I am here." She lifted the bowl up to her lips. Gently blowing on the surface of the hot meal to avoid burning heraelf. Once content with the temperature she poured some into her mouth. Its warmth trailing down her throat, filling her empty gut with bliss.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

He held back from chuckling. "And who told you I didn't?" Oh, the most stupid fallacy! It was surprising to hear something like that from a person who wasn't a child... but, of course, this might have been a very young elf as well. You could never know with this species: she could be twenty five years of age as well as twenty five decades of age. "I don't have to." He replied. "You haven't seen all the crows in the world, so how can you tell that they are black? Or how can you claim anything at all if you didn't personally check?" He was almost in the mood to talk about knowledge, logic, statistics, and his beloved philosophical conundrum of a white crow, but... he was almost in the mood. Almost. As in, he was not.

'Huh! "Fair"! And there I thought you were an assassin who knew that life is anything but "air"!' He thought, but didn't tell that out loud. "Yes, I'd like to dance more." He said bluntly. "Besides, if that is your reason to be here..." he pointed to where the body was. "..than this is mine." His finger switched to the pot. Indeed, what else a man in the middle of nowhere would do, sitting on a hill in the middle of the night if he wasn't camping; and why would he camp near a large road if he wasn't travelling? "And you're wrong with your judgement." He paused, tone somewhat mocking. Just a little. "I don't care about elements as much as you think I do, and don't care at all about getting wet. I hate half-tones. I hate... this. Whatever it is." He waved his hand in the air. "I want a normal storm, not the absolute nonsense that is this." The fact how he rolled his eyes was so obvious there was no need for a visual contact to feel it.

 

[Slayer]

The elf smiled and continued to sip the stew, chewing on the chunks of added meat amd and vegetable as they came. Listening to the man's point on the crows. Scoffing she lowered the bowl from her face "I have not met all crows, nor would I approach one and make a comment abour how black it was in comparison to others. On that same note, I would not assume that all are black. Genetic variations occur within every species, as well as mutations" she croased her legs and stared at the fire. Some strange mutations including morethan one head. "I digress" she shrugged and continued to eat.

Silver eyes glanced toward the location that the body had been. "Yes. That is what brought me here, the reason I am /still/ here is for the dinner and entertainment" she grinned again. not thatshe was surprised the man called out her assumption of his character. He seemed to be one that would argue just about anything. She smiled and nodded "understandable" with that she finished what was in her bowl and offered it back to him. "The meal was appreciated" she stayed seated as if she had no plans on actually leaving yet. "So you're here
.in weather you are frustrated with...because you wanted to have a camp fire and bland stew? There must be more of a reason?" She smiled waiting for his snappy remark back. /Waste of time/ the demon growled, frustrated with the elf, there was no need to stay any longer.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

'Liar.' He thought. He was absolutely sure if asked what is the colour of a crow, she'd reply "black". And if one was white, she'd comment on it. But he shook his head with a condescending sigh instead of voicing this. If she couldn't wrap her head around simple logic - or rather refused to agree with it, seeing how she just so hypocritically littered him with assumptions herself - he saw no reason to continue this conversation. It would only result in disappointment for both parties, and he knew he posed a lot of danger when disappointed... and the last thing he wanted was to get on a bad side of some assassins guild. After all, he wasn't a teacher to educate her as well. Hell, even if he wanted he'd be a terrible teacher: he always wanted results. Immediately. The process of learning would make him explode.

"Pretty much, yes." He replied, elbow resting on the knee. "I am here for a fire and stew. Because I'm hungry, and one cannot make a stew without fire." He paused, and then smirked. "Well, I mean, you can't. But, at any rate I'd rather sit here and have a bite, rather then walk knee-deep in mud. As I said before, call me squeamish."

 

[Slayer]

The elf looked at him with curiosity as he emphasized that she couldnt make stew without fire. Some magic users probably could, but the man's point was true, she really wasnt much of a magic user even though she was a elf..possessed by a demon. She should have magic spouting out her ass. But..well its complicated, a story for another time.

"To be frank. I CAN make a stew without fire. Anyone can make a stew without a fire. The real point is that you cant COOK the stew without a heat source" she said while pointing a pale slim finger up to the clouded sky. The elf took no shame in pointing this fact out.

"But I suppose that is beside the point" petra grinned and tucked her arm back into her cloak. It was draped over her crossed legs and held closed as to avoid much water draining into her lap. "Noted, I will add 'squeamish' to the list of names I would call you" it would probably be best if she kept this list to herself. /Along side 'dead'/ the demon snapped with a deep laugh. The elf simply grinned at the remark in her head, still having no desire to work at this time.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

He shook his head once more. Again, the woman seemed to ignore that a stew is a dish defined as "slowly cooked meat and vegetables", and not raw materials just to argue and look "right". Well, whatever made her feel better, of course. Minus one thread to talk about. he as well preferred to be right, but at least he accepted facts, and would - grouchily - admit if he is wrong. 'Women. The centre of the world. Everyone should put you on a pedestal, shouldn't they?'

"Alright." He shrugged the last phrase off in a voice so cold it was only now apparent that few minutes ago he was actually friendly... or what he thought was friendly. She didn't amuse him - they weren't friends, after all, so such pricks were taken just as the lack of manners. "Do that." With that said, he carefully took the pot off the fire, reaching to the backpack again to get a spoon. The dog looked up, curious about the stew, but after leaning forward to sell it, decided it was too hot. The man did go through anything small talk-ish to say, but didn't find a thread. Probably because he didn't want to. Who would have, if every attempt on small talk was met by pseudo-intellectual resistance? And he didn't really want more of the same - the ability to hold back was never his strongest point, and he burst into emotions very, very easily. And he didn't want to lose his reputation just because some elf wanted to feel important. So, he left it at that, and proceeded to dine in silence, and leaving any conversation to appear only from the elf's side.

 

[Slayer]

/Wasnt the response you were expecting hm? Why are we still here?!/ It was amusing that the demon complained so much without having the ability to influence the situation. It was true though, she espected the man to argue and throw out a couple of snarky remarks. She determined that she must have annoyed him beyond the point of responding. "No" she muttered under her breath to herself, finally answering the presence in her mind. The once amused expression on her face changed to that of a blunt and unimpressed. This would get rather tedious if the man wouldnt contribute to the banter anymore.

Sitting in silence the elf sat there staring at a spot beside the fire. /So, are you foolish enough to stay when you could be making more progress? This man already knows how ignorant you are/ her eyes shifted to the fire, narrowing as the demon spoke. /You really think this will benifit you? You aee blind elf, leave now before I get hungry and kill him for you/

The more the demon spoke, the more the elf qanted to stay. The demon had no control, he could speak all the terrible possibilities he wanted but he could not speak them into reality. "I will not be moving until sunrise. Speak as you wish but your words will make no difference" she spoke in a low, soft tone close to a whsiper. One would think that she had a telepayhic** bond with the demon. In essence, trying to speak back to the demon in her own thoughts only caused chaos. She had the monster under lock and key, with that came a grest list of precautions.

Having no further desire to speak with the demon, Petra cleared her throat and began interacting with the man once more. "The dog, you keep it for protection or as an alarm for danger?" She didn't look at him as she spoke "you dont come off as the fighting type..perhaps your dog does it for you?" The insinuating tone was followed by another smirk. She really wasnt planning on moving until sunrise, even then, she wanted more knowledge about this traveler.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

'No?' He thought, as he heard caught the whisper. 'You make snarky remarks and then write them off just like that?' His teeth screeched as he tried - and quite successfully - to keep control. The forced company, the ignorance, the hypocrisy and this fucking weather all contributed to his mood, as heavy and dark as oil, and as easily flammable. Would it really matter if he blew up right now, he thought? Would anyone track the deed as made by him? They probably could, whoever 'they' were. Besides, she mumbled as if she was having a conversation... He knew there were spells that allowed people to talk through a long distance like that, so perhaps he should be at his best behaviour... but what neither of them knew, was how similar he was thinking to a demon inside her head, contemplating why he did not get rid of the elf yet, why is he foolishly letting her proceed with this nonsense, while he could've been done with it by just one flick of a finger... or even fewer.

"You know..." his head snapped up to the elf. "...for someone who so ostentatiously claims she doesn't like assumptions, you keep firing them off one... by one... by one..." he clicked his brown fingers for each 'one' he pronounced. "...wagging them around like a priceless possession. Pardon my bluntness, but the concentration of produced hypocrisy per square foot around you is already so dense, I wonder how we're still able to breathe!" That small outlet did make him feel better. So he proceeded. "Do you even hear yourself? You are presented with one fact, and you keep nagging at it as if it was a disgusting insult and the furthest thing from truth, throwing the cliched 'do not assume before you check everyone' of a twelve-year-old any other adult would find absolutely ashamed to even consider to pronounce; while indulging yourself in deciding why am I camping here, what I can do, what I cannot do, what the dog does... What is the point in me telling you anything if every other truth I threw your way thus far has been met with denial and presentation of a ridiculous alternative? Thus far you've left an impression that you'd rather imagine yourself a story than accept the factual picture, so why I spoil it?" His voice turned quieter, a needling whisper. "I like stories too much to go spoiling them!"

He was already betting with himself he'll receive another laugh and note how he's amusing, and, of course, how wrong he was at everything he just said... she very much reminded him of a young woman he once had the displeasure of travelling with. His original distaste towards that young lady was in the fact they shared a profession, but the difference was... he was a good minstrel. She was not. That, combined with a fact that he of course thought that any other minstrel is an absolute talentless mediocrity, already made him hate her. But the fact she was the most obvious and cliched teenager (albeit, a physically adult elven maiden), holding the most ridiculous idealistic views, and with no understanding of personal borders, gave him a nerve tick for as long as they had to work together. The statements of Petra sounded very much as what that young bardess would say, and even without truly realising it - almost on a reflex level - he felt the same amount of anger and disgust. The what's-her-name bardess did leave a mark, making the man even more weary towards other minstrels, young people, and elves than he was before. And such impressions were deep, and could be broken hard - mostly through actions... only through actions. And not words, which were not Petra's strong side from his point of view.

 

[Slayer]

The reaction of the man was something that caused the elf to grin. She didnt say anything as he spoke rather harshly about her interaction with him. Crossing her arms under her cloak the womans head bobbed slightly as the man seemingly released some pent up stress. Of course this may have been amplified due to the weather conditions and perhaps he had a rough day. Either way the man didn't seem very impressed with the situation, not that she was expecting that he would be.

"Alright. I would ask if that moment made you feel better. But you have made it quite clear that my questions are not welcome. So I will create my own 'story' and believe that you will never be fulfilled" the elf chuckled and gave a firm nod as she looked up at the man once he finished with his condescending rant. Her eyes searched his face, picking out points of his expression. Taking note of his explosive reaction to her endless string of questions. To break out in frustration was a sign of the mans ability to hold his emotions and keep control. "For further clarification, sir, I was asking far more questions rather than making blunt assumptions. As you had when commenting on my height" she pointed out. "But I suppose you kept that point out of your evidence" she smiled and shrugged slightly. This may anger him more but she didnt want to stand down just because he had heated the dispute.

The elf said nothing more, adjusting herself so that one knee was pulled up to her chest. /Every time, I look forward to the day that someone stabs a sword through your chest for such a foolish act/ "Yet it has not happened. Perhaps that day will be a sweet relief for both of us" the woman commented back under her breath. Throughout the years of testing those who were 'lucky' enough to travel with the elf. Most didn't stick around for long, not that the elf took offense. Assassins werent much for travelling in parties.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

He could almost hear the blood boiling in him,bubbles popping like hot magma. 'What a typical. Fucking. Elf. This is why I hate the bastards. Dumb as a plank, with judgement of a child, and yet thinks she's so important.' It was safe to say that he avoided the company of elves whenever he could. He enjoyed the company of people who were strong, smart, or funny. Elves were not even one of three, but they pretended to be that so much. Which, funnily enough, made him appreciate the company of fey all too much, who ironically were mistaken for elves and vice-versa by the people not versed in nations and races.

"Why of course! 'You don't look like a fighting type' is such a question! 'There must be other reason for being here' is such a question! Absolutely not blunt assumptions! I am not speaking about how many questions and assumptions you made. Don't think your clumsy attempts in twisting the words were not noticed." He scoffed in response. 'What a dumb whore', he thought. Perhaps he and Petra's demon would find a few things in common. "And I stand by what I said - despite you so desperately trying to sound smart: you are tall for an elf. That is a fact. Whether you like it, or not. Although at this point, I cannot tell I have any interest left in having a polite conversation: you clearly have no capacity in supporting it; so, yes, for once in your life you're right: your questions are not welcome, as well as company. So I'd kindly ask for you to whether shut it, or better yet - leave us be."

 

[Slayer]

/JUST KILL HIM!/ the demon snapped within her while the man spoke. The demon was not to be toyed with and the lack of control in this situation was beginning to drive the creature into a rage. The demon's own anger building more and more, the danger in this was the possibility of the demon taking control. At this point the eyes of the elf glazed over as if in a hypotic state while she pushed her magical ability to keep the demon at bay. Very little attention was paid to the man and his incessant ranting at this time as the elf had more important things to worry about.

Coming out of the trance of concentration the elf was quiet and blinked in an attempt to clear her blurred vision. Due to the happenings within herself she hadn't heard all of what the man was saying, only catching what came after her not supporting 'it' what ever he was speaking about there. She was sure she could contemplate a guess but he most likely wouldnt find any humor in it. In fact she as beginning to believe that the man didnt find humor in much.

The elf sat there with a dull expression plastered on her face as the man concluded himself. For a moment she considered allowing the demon some control, allowing herself to devour the man. But of course, she would most likely regret that later. The taste of blood was always hard to get out of her mouth. Yet, the elf didnt move to leave as suggested. She still had no intentions on moving until sunrise and she had her doubts that the man would make her. She turned her attention back to the fire and closed her eyes. Listening to the soft crackle as the wood burned, the calming smell of the smoke mixed with the dreary mist of the air. /Get the hell up and leave. This is a waste of time and you're being a pain in the ass/ the demon was in disbelief as the elf had actually kept quiet. Petra was starting to think that the demon and the man were teo halfs of the same whole, both arrogant pricks.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

'Oh, goodness, finally!' The man breathed the cool air in, dragging the pot back to the rock he was leaning, and proceeding to have a lazy snack, as well as slowly wrapping the map out, taking it from the tube on the side of the backpack. His irritation was subsiding: without anything to fuel his anger, he often calmed down as fast as a fire during the storm.

Petra - whose name he already forgot - was right: both arrogant pricks would probably have found common ground, and there was a big chance on ganging up on her. And they were very close to being two halves of the same whole. With where the man grew up (albeit he hated talking about it), all sorts of nasty things lurked. Demons and devils included, and ones quest for the first ten years of life was not getting snatched by them. He... rarely interacted with any fiends, as well as possessed people, but he'd be happy at this point in his life to share a few words with one of them. Maybe strike a contract if it was a demon powerful enough. But it was hard to find one in this realm, and he did not want to travel down to the abyss on his own to do that.

Without any mind for the temperature of the stew, and not even noticing how hot it was, his eyes travelled across the map. There was an unnamed keep further up the road, which was a point of restock for him previously, and gathering any rumours, but now, he thought, it would be a full-pledged stop. He was weary of the elf, and suspected that she'd rob him blind (not that he had a lot of things to take, but that only made her job easier), so he'd prefer to skip the night's sleep, and stay up. This way, a military garrison would be a stop for rest once he walks there, and his travel would get a day penalty. 'With any luck I could steal a horse there.', he thought, already trying to come up with a plan or two on how to do that. 'That is, if they won't stake me on sight.', he added to himself. All too many rednecks and stupid militia grabbed torches and pitchforks when seeing his face, so there was a chance for an angry greeting.

Further the road turned north, leading to a smaller town of Oaklore he knew absolutely nothing about; and then: to Topolynn - the larger city on the sea cost, and a place for a stay. Large cities always meant some mages, and guilds, and extensive libraries, as well as museums. All the things he shall absolutely stick his fingers into. Thing was, this was south. He got used to the north. He knew little about local traditions and cities, and didn't manage to find any city guides to guy just yet. Hundreds of miles north of here, a desert started, and anything north of it he was accustomed to. Anything south - he wasn't. He was not sure of this was even the northern hemisphere any longer, but neither he cared. The north was disappointing when it came to finding any dark lore he was hunting down, albeit he appreciated rough people there - strong men and bossy women ruling the giant city states with billions of people... the desert of Calim with its oasis-clad cities held to their cities too much... south was only small towns by now. He had to visit any large one yet, and planned to do so in a few days - three to seven - and check on what they had to offer. But first, waiting for the sun to start rising, and moving out to said unnamed keep.

 

[Slayer]

The idea of sleep hadn't crossed the mind of the elf, but there was a difference between allowing ones mind to drift into the dark nothingness of slumber and resting while keeping fully aware. Not that Petra was threatened by the presence of the man but that didnt meant that she was comfortable completely letting her guard down either. Besides, the dog was more threatening, all it had for dinner was a squirrel carcass. For all she knew the canine was ready to eat her to make up for the lack of a dinner. /So what now? You foolish elf, you know that is impossible. So tell me your plans, if you even have one./

The woman took in a deep breath, her eyes still resting shut as her ears took full alert. The sounds only muffled slightly by the cloak hood that covered her head. Was she going to ignore the demon? He sure as hell didnt deserve a response. Besides, it didnt much matter what she chose to do or her reason behind her actions. He didnt have any influence, it wasnt his decision to make. For something that always felt the need to insult and lash out the demon didnt appreciate the silence between them. The sound of parchment had caused the woman to open her eyes once more. She had to turn her head slightly due to the cloak inhibiting her peripherals. The man had unravelled a map and was now inspecting it.

The expreession of annoyance flashed across her face as she noted the map. She knew he wasnt out here to just enjoy the night with his mutt and a pot of stew. Who the hell in their right mind would do such a thing on a night like this. Of course if she pointed this information out the man would get all excited again and start spouting about how thick headed she was. /How about you take that anger and do something with it?/ the demon could feel her emotions, much like she could his. The relationship between the two far more complicated than she cared to explain.

The elf turned her attention back to the fire and rolled her eyes before closing them. "How about you shut up as well so we dont have to listen to the man rant about how terrible I am. I already get enough of that from you" she spoke to herself as she finally responded to the demon. /Watch your tongue before I tear it from your mouth and feed it to the mutt!/ It was times like this that the elf could only shake her head and embrace any silence that may happen. Which was ironic, considering how much the elf spoke. But at least there was reason to her actions and that was to try and drown out the demon. They would both benifit if they would mutually agree to interact only when necessary.

 

[kevintheradioguy]

Minutes turned into hours. The man had little to do but studying the map, and it grew quite boring after a while. The leathery texture of it was becoming slipper as the tiny drops of water began to gather on top of it from the whole exposure, until finally - and thank the gods for that - the raindrops started falling. A low, black cloud flew over them, covering what little nightlight there was, and littering the camp with water. He looked up, and smiled under the hood. He loved the elements, and finally the planet was showing them her real powers. Albeit not a real storm, the cold wind blew hard enough to make the woods around creek creepily, and the tall pines bend to the side, scattering leaves and needles around, making them fly right into the fire which grew smaller, but burned steady nonetheless. Few big, obsidian-coloured drops fell on the map, and the man's darker skin, until a smaller, more piercing ones followed them, like foot soldiers after their generals, and started tapping on the clothes, and skin, and bags... the rain grew larger and larger, and after a while, the dog stood up, getting closer to its master, squealing. "So you're okay with swimming in the river, but not with taking a shower?" - He asked the dog with a bit of sarcasm. It, of course, didn't reply. Instead, trying to hide from the drops, it crawled under him - in the space between his back and the rock, seeing it as a suitable tnt of sorts, curling around the man, and shivering. It soon stopped the tremble, however, getting enough warmth from the body of its master. He, however, didn't hurry to hide. In fact, he seemed to be unaffected by the weather at all - or making good impression that he wasn't.

Hiding his map, the man sat there, looking at his own hands that rested on his knees, and well-polished nails, thinking about something, bobbing his head occasionally. He took great joy and inspiration from the weathers like this, and in his head he was composing music - the one he'll probably forget soon enough. He didn't dare to take out any notebooks or alike, fearing for the pages being dissolved by the rain. Instead, he tried to remember it as good as he could. A hard task.

He wished he had a watch with him. The weather didn't get any better, and he could not see the horizon under the clouds, unable to tell time. Watching the drops evaporate over the campfire, he waited and waited... before deciding he had waited enough. His head was big, his lids were heavy. When pulling allnighter, he'd prefer to do something, instead of just sitting here, but... well, if he walks into the keep at night, they won't let him in, and he couldn't really walk around - he might have been a real asshole, but not to an extend of taking away shelter and the warmth of his body from the dog. So, when he was almost sure the skies would be lighting up soon, he stood up, taking a now empty pot - the only thing he was left to do, after all, was to eat - and his backpack in the other hand, and made a clicking sound to the dog, whose ears immediately perked up. He nodded to the river, trotting down it, getting some water into the pot, rolling it around, and then pouring out, making sure it was at least relatively clean. As if by magic, without him and the dog around, the fire was ceasing fast under the rain, but when they came back, he did not stay. In fact, he didn't even stop, neither he said a thing, simply walking off to the direction of the road, sliding down the wet grass, with the dog jumping cheerily around. Amazing creature. One could've been as rough and cruel with a dog, and yet, it would still love its master. They both soon disappeared in the woods, crossing the small area, and getting to the road, turning right at it - that being west - and continuing their path to meet guards at the keep's entrance a dozen miles further; hoping that the gates are open, and there is a place to stay and finally rest, surrounded by loud and obnoxious, but still much lawful than an assassin, soldiers.