Bros On The Road I 
Glade 11th, 122nd Year, AoS
Sunset had fallen throughout the wood as their training had finally began to cease. Though Telion and Hannah had been allowed to finish earlier and return back to the settlement, Rickter and Patrick later wrapped up the last of their routine before Erikson allowed them to rest of the evening. It was when the three were headed back that the wolf was pulled aside by the Atinoran, both men still pretty exhausted from their practice at Reaving once more. "Hey, man. Uh, got a sec?"
The wolf looked to the Atinoran in weary curiosity, his shoulders dropped as he raised an eyebrow to the man. "What is it?"
"I um... Just wanted to take some time, yanno, get to know you a little better." At the implication Rickter tilted his head, a little uncertain what Patrick had suggested at the moment. "You know, since we've been so busy and all! Haven't had much time to sit around and actually talk since we got here." So that's what it was then. The wolf hadn't really figured much about it, but they had indeed been busy since their arrival. Hell, Rickter had barely had time to slow down since before he'd met Patrick. So for someone still new to the pack to be caught up in all this, well, the wolf could only surmise the levity of confusion the Atinoran possessed from time to time.
"Sure." He agreed which earned a grin from the bartender.
"Great! Uh," Patrick quickly looked out to the forest around them, "I've got a spot nearby perfectly suited for us. Why don't we sit there?" Rickter shrugged with a light sigh through his nostrils, impartial to wherever they went, so long as it afforded him the chance to sit and rest awhile. He certainly wanted food too, but it wasn't an urgent need at the moment anyhow. With a nod for the Barnell to lead, Patrick waved for Rickter to follow along, as they walked a little further ways back into the woods.
Where Patrick led Rickter was to a small grove, one recently filled with collected branches and twigs, along with a couple of large stones situated near a small man-made pit. Rickter had been gestured to take a seat on one of the rocks as Patrick split some of the wood from the pile, and laid it within the pit before he took his own seat near the wolf. With just the wave of a few fingers, Patrick's gesture to the pit resulted in the ignition of the sticks piled in. Before Rickter knew it the men were seated near what was essentially a campfire, its warm amber glow steadily brightening when the rest of the branches cracked and smoked from the heat. "...So what did you want to know?"
For the question to arise out of the lingering silence, it brought a moment of curiosity out of Patrick, before the Atinoran smirked and gazed back into the firepit. "Well. We've been so caught up in everything, I just wanted to check in on you. See how you were doing first?" All that and he just wanted to 'check in' with Rickter? The wolf hardly fathomed the point of that, even with the credibility behind their constant routines.
"Well... Getting by seems to be the easiest way to describe it." Rickter admitted with a stoic look into the flames, his thoughts a little heavy when he reflected on recent events.
"Heh, I can believe that. Still, from what I have gathered you're no average warrior." Patrick's voice sounded enlightened a little, as another layer of sticks was placed within the burn pile. "And to think, Talon had you as a bodyguard. What on Ailizane could've led to someone like you being exiled?"
No doubt the questions had been swimming in Barnell's mind as of late. Of course, Rickter hasn't really been caught up in it recently either. Since they were well distracted by Ishin, all the wolf could think about was where he would go after here. Simply put he was biding his time, and in the process merely applied it where it felt necessary. The wolf was learning things out here after all, and he already felt twice as braver for being ready to face his enemies head-on. Though, was only a question of how long, before Rickter wondered when he'd be truly ready for war. "Failure. Because I failed to rescue his sister in the expedition, and because my failure to return and protect him..."
Patrick looked toward him a bit more surprised, with a noticeable clench of his jaw before silence lingered between them. It was a cold hard fact now, a point he didn't plan on dwelling. Rickter failed his House when he failed Talon, which is exactly why he'd been cast out. "You know we're gonna get him back, right?" The Barnell then remarked with his eyes rested on the fire, his elbows rested over his knees as he vacantly smiled. "It won't be easy, might even be suicide, but we'll make damn sure he's free again."
"...You knew him?" The wolf inquired in a curious murmur.
"He came to my inn once. Overpaid WAY too much for his stay." Patrick enthused with a wide grin, a little fond of the memory that led to their friendship.
"Huh..." The wolf noticed as he remembered the first time he'd met Talon, fighting along the lower ledges of the Astralar against the Shamblers. "He was definitely good at doing that." And yet that realization brought a sudden ache in his heart, as a void resided where fondness once was. Yet at the sound of Patrick's idealism, of the freedom that so rightly belonged to Talon.
"Ah, but it's all making sense now, even though I'm getting the impression there's a lot more. You never did tell me your favorite magic after all?" The Barnell teased with a smirk at the wolf, who in turn, averted his gaze to the flames to avoid the direct line of sight. There was that after all, since they never fully discussed the topic at the time. Rickter hardly had to debate the question at all really, from the moment he first learned to weave aether through it in fact. Negation had been his obvious favorite for a variety of reasons, and for what it was worth, the idea of distracting his thoughts by sharing them didn't sound so bad at all. So...
"Negation." The response brought a curious glance out of Patrick before he grinned. "It's the first magic I learned to master on my own. I'm still exploring it conceptually of course... But I've developed a profound admiration for the practical uses they can apply."
"Really now?" There came a tilt of his head when Patrick remarked at the wolf, Rickter just plainly nodding toward the fire to reassure the man. "Damn. You and Dom are a lot alike." Now came the curious glance from the wolf, his mind scouring for that familiar smell associated to the name "Dom". He was the second oldest son, smelled of cedarwood and dried tomes. It was him who implied that Patrick would've likely been better going with the wolf, a vote that he himself did not feel was well allocated given his circumstances. "You're definitely quieter than he is, but you remind me of him a lot when I see you around the other two."
"...That so?" The wolf finally gave in, raising his eyebrows as he still observed the flames. "Then, what's yours?"
"Mine? Oh, easy. Masquerade. I'm not as good at it as my younger brother, but I've picked up a few tricks from him. It was my first magic too honestly, even though the trance really freaked me out." Even though Patrick chuckled at admitting it, Rickter found the mention of this trance curious. He wondered if it were anything similar to the Negation rune, though, didn't outright carry through with inquiring about it. "It was just beautiful to practice, man." The Atinoran added with a bit of sincerity to his tone. "Growing up with it our Ma would tell us stories, using illusions to give them even greater depth. Learning it was fun at first, but then..." That notable pause in his sentence was hard to miss, so Rickter sheepishly peered over to gauge Patrick's demeanor. "Well, guess we all grow out of things eventually."
There. A familiar sense of history laced with misery, where shared understanding existed between similar tragedies. "What changed?" Rickter pressed almost as if he were eager to know, even if he reconsidered that approach a moment after. It was personal after all, and he wasn't one to share in his own business lately. Yet still, the appreciative grin Patrick made said enough, before the Atinoran answered the question.
"Just, lost the allure over the years. After Connor picked it up, I had already moved on to Traversion. I was quite the climber as a boy." The Barnell humored with a glance down at the rest of the firewood pile, already placing the rest of it within the pit to feed the flames a while longer.
"...I've always liked... new magic." Rickter bashfully admitted to the Atinoran with a look away from the guy. He didn't want to plainly be upfront about it, but he did appreciate the moments that came back to him of Talon. Those moments where he felt the aether of another upon his flesh... He failed to even struggle at remembering how that felt even now, but the inherited understanding learned from attaining those runes! Those had created the foundation of his magic power even now, and shaped him into the kind of battlemage he was at the moment. "Sometimes." He clarified with a bit of a shrug as he watched the flames once more, the Barnell near him a little surprised from where Rickter could tell.
"You mean... You wanna learn?" The Atinoran quipped with a satirical expression.
"...I'm not opposed to it." The wolf reluctantly admitted even with the uncertainty, unsure if the initiation would be better or worse than the Negation one he thought back on.
Patrick leaned aside with a curl of his fingers over his lips, his thumb pressed just over the cheekbone near his ear as he eyed the wolf. "Alright," he then agreed with a sarky tone, "gimme your arm." At the request the Barnell reached out to Rickter halfway, waiting for the wolf to meet him thereby offering his limb. Rickter exhaled a sigh before lifting his right arm out from his lap, the sleeve rolled back to expose the skin of his inner forearm. With a careful moment of consideration, Patrick pointed a finger over the skin on Rickter's arm, as the sudden jolt of electricity tickled across the surface.
The wolf unintentionally about pulled away, resulting in Patrick lifting his hand back with an astonished look. "Whoa! Sorry! Always forget I do that with aether." The tension in the wolf's shoulders relaxed then, as he seemed willing enough to let the Atinoran carry on. This time with a longer moment spent affixed on his finger, Patrick channeled aether at a slower rate to where a glimmering drop of ruby red sizzled at the tip. When he started to etch the Rune into Rickter's arm, the wolf felt an unusual warmth radiating into his forearm where the Rune had been drawn. Yet the sigil Patrick drew did not take on the stark red quality of its bearer, rather, shimmered into a vivid green as the aether seeped into his soul.
He felt it coming then, this supposed trance or vision associated with the initiation. The Atinoran noticed Rickter's immediate daze when he looked away, and was quick to keep the wolf from tumbling off his rock on accident.
"Easy now, big guy, you're about to have one wicked trip."
The wolf looked to the Atinoran in weary curiosity, his shoulders dropped as he raised an eyebrow to the man. "What is it?"
"I um... Just wanted to take some time, yanno, get to know you a little better." At the implication Rickter tilted his head, a little uncertain what Patrick had suggested at the moment. "You know, since we've been so busy and all! Haven't had much time to sit around and actually talk since we got here." So that's what it was then. The wolf hadn't really figured much about it, but they had indeed been busy since their arrival. Hell, Rickter had barely had time to slow down since before he'd met Patrick. So for someone still new to the pack to be caught up in all this, well, the wolf could only surmise the levity of confusion the Atinoran possessed from time to time.
"Sure." He agreed which earned a grin from the bartender.
"Great! Uh," Patrick quickly looked out to the forest around them, "I've got a spot nearby perfectly suited for us. Why don't we sit there?" Rickter shrugged with a light sigh through his nostrils, impartial to wherever they went, so long as it afforded him the chance to sit and rest awhile. He certainly wanted food too, but it wasn't an urgent need at the moment anyhow. With a nod for the Barnell to lead, Patrick waved for Rickter to follow along, as they walked a little further ways back into the woods.
Where Patrick led Rickter was to a small grove, one recently filled with collected branches and twigs, along with a couple of large stones situated near a small man-made pit. Rickter had been gestured to take a seat on one of the rocks as Patrick split some of the wood from the pile, and laid it within the pit before he took his own seat near the wolf. With just the wave of a few fingers, Patrick's gesture to the pit resulted in the ignition of the sticks piled in. Before Rickter knew it the men were seated near what was essentially a campfire, its warm amber glow steadily brightening when the rest of the branches cracked and smoked from the heat. "...So what did you want to know?"
For the question to arise out of the lingering silence, it brought a moment of curiosity out of Patrick, before the Atinoran smirked and gazed back into the firepit. "Well. We've been so caught up in everything, I just wanted to check in on you. See how you were doing first?" All that and he just wanted to 'check in' with Rickter? The wolf hardly fathomed the point of that, even with the credibility behind their constant routines.
"Well... Getting by seems to be the easiest way to describe it." Rickter admitted with a stoic look into the flames, his thoughts a little heavy when he reflected on recent events.
"Heh, I can believe that. Still, from what I have gathered you're no average warrior." Patrick's voice sounded enlightened a little, as another layer of sticks was placed within the burn pile. "And to think, Talon had you as a bodyguard. What on Ailizane could've led to someone like you being exiled?"
No doubt the questions had been swimming in Barnell's mind as of late. Of course, Rickter hasn't really been caught up in it recently either. Since they were well distracted by Ishin, all the wolf could think about was where he would go after here. Simply put he was biding his time, and in the process merely applied it where it felt necessary. The wolf was learning things out here after all, and he already felt twice as braver for being ready to face his enemies head-on. Though, was only a question of how long, before Rickter wondered when he'd be truly ready for war. "Failure. Because I failed to rescue his sister in the expedition, and because my failure to return and protect him..."
Patrick looked toward him a bit more surprised, with a noticeable clench of his jaw before silence lingered between them. It was a cold hard fact now, a point he didn't plan on dwelling. Rickter failed his House when he failed Talon, which is exactly why he'd been cast out. "You know we're gonna get him back, right?" The Barnell then remarked with his eyes rested on the fire, his elbows rested over his knees as he vacantly smiled. "It won't be easy, might even be suicide, but we'll make damn sure he's free again."
"...You knew him?" The wolf inquired in a curious murmur.
"He came to my inn once. Overpaid WAY too much for his stay." Patrick enthused with a wide grin, a little fond of the memory that led to their friendship.
"Huh..." The wolf noticed as he remembered the first time he'd met Talon, fighting along the lower ledges of the Astralar against the Shamblers. "He was definitely good at doing that." And yet that realization brought a sudden ache in his heart, as a void resided where fondness once was. Yet at the sound of Patrick's idealism, of the freedom that so rightly belonged to Talon.
"Ah, but it's all making sense now, even though I'm getting the impression there's a lot more. You never did tell me your favorite magic after all?" The Barnell teased with a smirk at the wolf, who in turn, averted his gaze to the flames to avoid the direct line of sight. There was that after all, since they never fully discussed the topic at the time. Rickter hardly had to debate the question at all really, from the moment he first learned to weave aether through it in fact. Negation had been his obvious favorite for a variety of reasons, and for what it was worth, the idea of distracting his thoughts by sharing them didn't sound so bad at all. So...
"Negation." The response brought a curious glance out of Patrick before he grinned. "It's the first magic I learned to master on my own. I'm still exploring it conceptually of course... But I've developed a profound admiration for the practical uses they can apply."
"Really now?" There came a tilt of his head when Patrick remarked at the wolf, Rickter just plainly nodding toward the fire to reassure the man. "Damn. You and Dom are a lot alike." Now came the curious glance from the wolf, his mind scouring for that familiar smell associated to the name "Dom". He was the second oldest son, smelled of cedarwood and dried tomes. It was him who implied that Patrick would've likely been better going with the wolf, a vote that he himself did not feel was well allocated given his circumstances. "You're definitely quieter than he is, but you remind me of him a lot when I see you around the other two."
"...That so?" The wolf finally gave in, raising his eyebrows as he still observed the flames. "Then, what's yours?"
"Mine? Oh, easy. Masquerade. I'm not as good at it as my younger brother, but I've picked up a few tricks from him. It was my first magic too honestly, even though the trance really freaked me out." Even though Patrick chuckled at admitting it, Rickter found the mention of this trance curious. He wondered if it were anything similar to the Negation rune, though, didn't outright carry through with inquiring about it. "It was just beautiful to practice, man." The Atinoran added with a bit of sincerity to his tone. "Growing up with it our Ma would tell us stories, using illusions to give them even greater depth. Learning it was fun at first, but then..." That notable pause in his sentence was hard to miss, so Rickter sheepishly peered over to gauge Patrick's demeanor. "Well, guess we all grow out of things eventually."
There. A familiar sense of history laced with misery, where shared understanding existed between similar tragedies. "What changed?" Rickter pressed almost as if he were eager to know, even if he reconsidered that approach a moment after. It was personal after all, and he wasn't one to share in his own business lately. Yet still, the appreciative grin Patrick made said enough, before the Atinoran answered the question.
"Just, lost the allure over the years. After Connor picked it up, I had already moved on to Traversion. I was quite the climber as a boy." The Barnell humored with a glance down at the rest of the firewood pile, already placing the rest of it within the pit to feed the flames a while longer.
"...I've always liked... new magic." Rickter bashfully admitted to the Atinoran with a look away from the guy. He didn't want to plainly be upfront about it, but he did appreciate the moments that came back to him of Talon. Those moments where he felt the aether of another upon his flesh... He failed to even struggle at remembering how that felt even now, but the inherited understanding learned from attaining those runes! Those had created the foundation of his magic power even now, and shaped him into the kind of battlemage he was at the moment. "Sometimes." He clarified with a bit of a shrug as he watched the flames once more, the Barnell near him a little surprised from where Rickter could tell.
"You mean... You wanna learn?" The Atinoran quipped with a satirical expression.
"...I'm not opposed to it." The wolf reluctantly admitted even with the uncertainty, unsure if the initiation would be better or worse than the Negation one he thought back on.
Patrick leaned aside with a curl of his fingers over his lips, his thumb pressed just over the cheekbone near his ear as he eyed the wolf. "Alright," he then agreed with a sarky tone, "gimme your arm." At the request the Barnell reached out to Rickter halfway, waiting for the wolf to meet him thereby offering his limb. Rickter exhaled a sigh before lifting his right arm out from his lap, the sleeve rolled back to expose the skin of his inner forearm. With a careful moment of consideration, Patrick pointed a finger over the skin on Rickter's arm, as the sudden jolt of electricity tickled across the surface.
The wolf unintentionally about pulled away, resulting in Patrick lifting his hand back with an astonished look. "Whoa! Sorry! Always forget I do that with aether." The tension in the wolf's shoulders relaxed then, as he seemed willing enough to let the Atinoran carry on. This time with a longer moment spent affixed on his finger, Patrick channeled aether at a slower rate to where a glimmering drop of ruby red sizzled at the tip. When he started to etch the Rune into Rickter's arm, the wolf felt an unusual warmth radiating into his forearm where the Rune had been drawn. Yet the sigil Patrick drew did not take on the stark red quality of its bearer, rather, shimmered into a vivid green as the aether seeped into his soul.
He felt it coming then, this supposed trance or vision associated with the initiation. The Atinoran noticed Rickter's immediate daze when he looked away, and was quick to keep the wolf from tumbling off his rock on accident.
"Easy now, big guy, you're about to have one wicked trip."
"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Patrick"
"Rickter" "Patrick"
"So I like to have a little fun. So what?"
