Unwelcome guest

[Talwyn]

He could hear the angry mob behind him, though not so close that they could actually see him at the moment. Cursing his rotten luck, he kept running. Everything had gone well until today. After arriving at the village, he had gotten a room at the local inn and enjoyed the meal he ordered. The ale could have been better, but it had been a while since he had been near civilization, so he didn't complain. The room had been clean and the bed soft and warm.

While browsing the market the following morning however, a sudden, and powerful, gust of wind had blown his hood off, revealing his face. Staring in terror, the merchant he had been haggling with, started screaming and within moments he had been surrounded by angry villagers, several of them carrying weapons

He had tried to calm them down, but they wouldn't listen and were holding a shouting match to decide on how to deal with the "demon". Some of the villagers wanted to burn him at the stakes, while others were saying they should just kill him and dump him in the lake.

After hearing enough, he charged his way through the mob and ran. Oh, he could have defended himself with ease. But he knew these were just frightened villagers. Killing them, even in self defence, would not be right.

Looking at the sky, he noticed the sun was starting to set. The chase had been going on for the better part of the day by now. With a quick glance, he turned right and dashed through a dense bush full of thorns. His stone skin providing ample protection against them.

Continuing on for close to an hour, he finally collapsed with his back to a tree taking deep breaths. He had more stamina than the average human but even the adrenaline rush couldn't stave off the exhaustion for ever. Closing his eyes, he listened intently for signs of his pursuers, while trying to fight off the encroaching sleep. He could ill-afford to be caught off guard right now after all...

[Silvarn]

Fear--the most basic of human emotions. Most humans resorted to fear to make the decisions, rather than relying on analysis and rational thought. The humanoid with granite-blue skin was obviously not someone to fear--he was simply bartering. But fear fueled their prejudice, their willful ignorance, and they ran him out of town.

Silvarn watched them go, regarding the blue stranger with a degree of interest.

He is of no concern to us. Remember what happened the last time we stuck our neck out for someone else? whined a reedy voice in his head.

"We were assaulted by a clan of demons, and another of witches." Silvarn growled to the apple he was examining for blemishes. "We ended up fighting against a very powerful halfbreed. We had to ally ourself with our Enemy. We nearly died." Had the shopkeeper been present, Silvarn would not have noticed the fearful look in his eyes. But the shopkeeper was currently hunting the blue-skinned man, so Silvarn helped himself to the apple.

Quite right. And if we were to help the stone-faced freak, this would be yet another city we would be unable to visit. One of the growing many.

"We need allies, though, now that the Twisted Mirror stalks Valear once more. And friendship follows desperation as surely as spring does winter."

How poetic. the reedy voice mocked.

"You cannot deny that we alone can defeat both the Twisted Mirror and his new disciple."

And you cannot deny that you actually have a heart.

"Hardly." Silvarn said dismissively, following the mob. They crashed through the forest ahead of him, creating an easy path for him to follow. But they thought like predators, instead of the prey. He had been pursued by the Twisted Mirror for years; he knew where to look.

Those mortals would not have looked at the broken thorns. A normal human would have their blood dripping from the points, instead of them looking like they had been ground down. He began examining the thick of thorns, looking for a safe way through, or at least a sign of the blue-skinned individual, when something loudly snapped beneath his boot. He winced, know that he had broken a branch. Reflexively, he looked over his shoulder to see if the mob had heard him

[Talwyn]

Talwyn jumped up at the sound of the snapping branch, his sword in hand and stared in the direction of the sound, listening with care. The mob continued on, the sound of their angry shouts dimming. With a sigh of relief, he put his sword back in it's sheath and took a moment to gather his thoughts.

Making up his mind, he took a round about way to where he had heard the branch getting snapped. He had to make sure it wasn't one of the villagers, and if it was, he'd have to make sure the would be pursuer could not alert the rest.

With the utmost care, he stalked around and checked the ground for tracks and nodded when he found them. Whoever it was, he or she took great pains to avoid leaving them. But a seasoned adventurer like Talwyn was not thrown of track so easily.

After locating his target, he gazed at the figures grey mantle and something tugged at the edge of his mind. He couldn't be certain, but he felt like he knew this man... In any case, it was obvious he wasn't with the villagers, so Talwyn once again grabbed his blade.

Taking a few more silent and careful steps, he swiftly placed his sword next to the man's neck. "I have no desire to take a life without cause." He whispered. "But I swear to all the gods that have not forsaken me, I will cut you down if you make a sound. Now turn around, and tell me. Why are you following me?"

[Silvarn]

The contradiction is comedic, is it not? the reedy voice cackled.

Silvarn silently raised his hands. When they reached the height of his head, he pointed with one of them at the owner of the sword, whom he took as the blue-skinned man, then clasped his hands, then pointed with the other one at himself. Perhaps arrogantly, he swiveled on the spot, allowing the sword to remain at his neck, then placed a finger to his lips. After all, the blue-skinned man before him had forbidden him from making a sound.

[Talwyn]

Tal sighed as he studied the man, when a sudden flash of recognition flitted across his face. "Grey-eyes." He muttered while lowering his sword. "You can speak." His tone made it obvious he was not amused by the other man's joke. In fact, he wasn't very amused with the whole encounter.

His last encounter with the man had been in the Ularian Ridge, and while they hadn't parted on a bad footing, he couldn't really call the man a friend either. For his part, he'd have been happy to never again cross paths with this man and he had felt faily certain the feeling was mutual. "So, why are you following me?" He demanded once again.

[Silvarn]

"Oh, it is you. I thought it might be, given the low number of stone-skinned individuals roaming Valear. I thought it best to help you, since you once did the same for me during our encounter with the frost banshee."

Since when have you cared about repaying favors? the reedy voice asked, bewildered.

"Since now." Silvarn answered, addressing the nearby sword. "Of course, if you do not want my help," he said, now addressing the blue-skinned man, "I will be on my way." He made to leave, then suddenly stopped, concern on his face. Something was missing.

There. That is much better. the reedy voice said, a certain glee in its phantom voice.

The other's presence in his mind, that is what had been missing. "What have you done, Scorcahr?" Silvarn asked a fern.

He had the flashing image of a mouth with far too many sharp teeth. Helping.

Behind him, he heard the nearing shouts of an angry mob. He faced the blue man again and said, "Now is your last chance. Do you want my help or not?"

[Talwyn]

"Ah yes, I had been wondering if I was ever going to receive a proper 'thank you' for thawing your sorry ass out of that icy prison." He said as a smug and sarcastic smile appeared at the edges of his lips. Looking bewildered at Silvarn addressing his sword, he figured it would be best not to ask. Sheathing his sword, he watched the other man prepare to leave.

Absorbed in his thoughts, he missed the sudden stop and concern on Silvarns face. He snapped back to the situation at hand as he noticed Silvarn talking to a fern. "Who's Scor-" He cut off what he was saying as he thingyed his head. Slamming his fist into a nearby tree, he growled.

Thoughts raced through his mind. Did he really wish to be helped by this man? Could he afford turning him away? In the end, he feared he had little choice. If he wanted to solve this without bloodshed that was. He did not have the energy to keep running. His only option was to use what little energy he still had left to fight. That, or trusting the man in front of him.

"I have little choice." Tal sighed. "But while I have no intention of letting them kill me, I would much prefer it if you could provide an option that would not result in their deaths."