Post by Rurin on Dec 21, 2013 9:01:36 GMT -5
BATTLE ON THE TUNDRA
[Part One]
"How long is this going to last?"
That single utterance was not the first complaint of the night, and it had come from the exact same person who seemed to act like he has already had enough. A rough looking male who liked to carry only a few arrows with him at a time. Because that's all he needed, he liked to boast often. Jared never missed his mark when it came to his shots, though he seemed to be less successful when it came to tact. A hand came up to wipe his nose after a violent sneeze. "Who is it now, anyway?" He sniffed, twirling an arrow between his free fingers.
Dekel, a silent warrior who could fire an arrow so delicately, it didn't matter how close or how well one could hear. His skill with his weapon was admirable, but he never liked to talk much about it, or talk in general. So it was surprising when he did speak. "They lacked the caution of the Ice Dervish, and it would be strange for them to roam so far from their territory. It is said that they are plagued by some sort of black ice so far north that none would dare to defect at this time." His voice slipped so smoothly that even Jared had fallen quiet. "The Winter's Claw seems to be the more likely choice," a pause as he licked his lips. "An alternative would be one of the smaller tribes." Then he fell silent once more.
Ashe decided this was a good time to speak up. "We have been contesting this area for a while. But their aggression has been fairly recent and my father paid the price for being ill-prepared." She too took a small pause, just as Dekel had done. She shook her head, "We know they are out there, but we should be wary nevertheless." The nomadic nature of her people meant that they were better suited to adaptation. But the blizzards of Freljord were too unpredictable to make an appropriate tell on their foes. Ashe sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "We'll probably be here for a while, Jared."
He threw his hands up in response, mockingly rolling his eyes but otherwise said nothing more.
Ashe simply tilted her head, blonde strands falling as strays from her hood as she shrugged. Jared's voice was the only one that rose above the soft din, the rest talking amongst themselves whilst huddling around a well-contained fire; her band of misfit companions. She watched them from the corner of her eye as she adjusted her bow. There were fifteen of them, sixteen including herself but no more important. They were companions of around the same age and perhaps slightly above, and most of them Ashe could safely call her trusted allies. Even before her mother had died four years ago and before she had come back with Avarosa's bow, these people had been her friends, some more-so than others but they were all loyal, trustworthy and above all, truthful.
Even as the 'Princess' of their tribe, she had never really been treated differently, and that was the way she preferred it. Four of them had been sent to scout their surroundings, three had offered to hunt for food and the rest were setting up and mulling about their makeshift camp.
They had only been here for two days, where their only defenses were the jagged rocks that were scattered like mines throughout the icy expanse. The very northern parts of Freljord seemed to be even more disagreeable than usual, Ashe noted. They weren't an army, but they were prepared for an attack if it should come to it. The elders of their tribe had strongly suggested that she lead them herself - that, should it come to negotiations, they would take it more seriously if 'the Frost Archer' had made the offer. She had disagreed with that claim rather heavily but was unable to speak against it. After all, it would be difficult to make an offer of any nature when they would be attacked the moment they were spotted.
"Jared, if you wanted something to do, why didn't you follow the scouts?" Ashe said after a while as the male continued to fill the camp with his soft grumbles. Jared turned, his untidy brown hair falling all over his brow as he pushed it back. "Or you could have gone hunting. There is plenty to do." The Archer herself couldn't claim to be doing anything more important save for overseeing the camp and its operations. Just as Jared opened his mouth to no doubt argue back (she knew he would) a sharp screech of a hawk diverted her attention towards the East.
It was no hawk, but the four who had set out to gather more information. Except it seemed to be three now, and Ashe stood quickly. As the group neared, she saw that one of the men was half limping and half dragging his useless leg with the help of another. Ashe ordered one of the others to bring a medical pack as she strode over to meet the returning party. There was no time for mere greeting or words. She directed them towards the nearest tent, asking them to clear out space and lay the wounded scout on a blanket. One of their medics arrived quickly thereafter, almost dropping the case of equipment as she ducked into the tent with a worried glance at Ashe.
The scouts then relayed back their information. They had decided against splitting up too far, considering they had seen signs of the Winter's Wrath and her tribe scattered around. They did not see any sign of the tribe who held a broken shield as their symbol until it was too late. An arrow had come flying down, piercing the man's legs and another bolt barely grazing past his cheek. They had no choice but to run for cover and what made matters worst was a terrible howling storm of snow that had swirled up.
"The Elders warned us..." The men exchanged glances with each other and Ashe furrowed her brow in inquiry but their meeting was quickly cut short as a terribly cry rose from the tent. She looked over, concern etched all over her face but before she could check inside the medic came out looking pale. The short-haired blonde glanced at the Frost Archer, her eyes mirroring the worry everyone felt.
"Neema? What's wrong?"
Neema quickly shook her head, pressing her lips together so tightly they almost turned the same shade of the snow that decorated her hair. Finally, she sighed and licked a speck of frost from the corner of her mouth. "I don't know," she said softly, fidgeting with the edge of a bandage poking out from inside the medical box. "The bandits... they use a strange type of poison, probably found only in their land. I-I don't know what it is. I don't know how to cure it." She almost looked heart broken and Ashe found herself placing a reassuring hand on the shorter girl's shoulder.
"Then we must hope for the best." Ashe said and Neema nodded before retreating back into the tent of the wounded scout. Though the Archer did not say it, she knew that this was the same poison that plagued her father now. She did not know its full effects, but she knew that the poison was... slow-moving. Perhaps this would give them time to figure out where the antidote was, if it existed. For now, she knew they had to prepare for nightfall.
The hunters returned with two rabbits, their pure white fur drenched in blood and a couple of birds they had shot down just before they had gone to roost. It was not much, but it was enough when they cooked and divided the meat and rations they had brought with them. The Avarosan were known for their ability to make do with what they had, having been a nomad tribe for as long as Ashe could remember. The meal was a quiet affair, the camp was fully aware of what was out there and what they could expect. Fires were made low but Ashe would need to make sure to post extra sentries just in case, even if she doubted their enemy would be able to attack in the night. Snowstorms tended to hit the hardest then.
It was there did Ashe's thoughts dwell. As everyone either went to turn in or set up post, she stayed where she was and watched the dying embers give way to the charred bits of wood beneath. "If you have something to say, it is best you say it quickly..." She turned, aware of the presence a few feet behind her and was unsurprised. Ceiara, fair of face but ferocious and vicious in battle, was one of Ashe's closest companions as one of the only females who shared her dreams. She gestured for the other to take a seat but a flash of red brought her hand up instead.
Ceiara smirked as Ashe caught the apple she had thrown. Confusion had broken through the Frost Archer's face, and she considered that an achievement in itself. Those pale green eyes had never missed the way Ashe's burning gaze was always lost to the far distance, as if imagining a future silent from the wheels of war. The way she heaved sighs without realizing it, her shoulders falling at the same pace. The way she twisted her wrists anxiously when things weren't going right. The way she looked at her friends, her allies, with such gentle kindness and yet had the frosty exterior one would come to expect from someone like her. It was just the way one would expect a leader so young to behave.
"What is this for?" Ashe's cautious voice broke the mist of thought clouding her mind, and Ceiara shook her head, pressing a finger to her own lips as if it were a secret. Her companion simply continued to look at her, a look of mild suspicion painted rigidly across her eyes. "Not everything needs to have a reason, Princess." She replied, using the title as gentle teasing rather than being condescending. Ashe continued to stare, prompting a proper answer with nothing but darkened jade. Ceiara pursed her lips. "I saw the way Jared looked at you and the way you talked to him." The archer attempted to avoid eye contact, but it was unneeded. Ashe had already turned away. "He just--"
"If you don't think what I'm doing is right," Ashe cut in, "Why did you bother to accompany this group?" She extended her arm, pointing the way back to the Avarosan camp. "They sent us out here, and I asked you if you would join us. If that doesn't suit you, then you are free to leave." Though the Frost Archer's words were bitingly cold, her voice remained unchanged. But the only truth was the spark of something troubled pushing at her soul. Her reaction was far from rational, and both Frost and Archer knew this. Neither looked to that fault, sweeping it to the side as Ceiara knew how to do so well.
But she was not quite ready to drop the topic without having the last word. Ceiara's emerald orbs flashed, the slow simmer of anger bubbling in the pits of frustration and irritation. "Don't play that card with me." It was a hissing, toxic mess and just as complicated. Ashe never believed in her own pain, only in that of others and it hurt to watch an existence attempt to hide itself. It was selfish to be so selfless. "I know you. I know what you're doing, and you don't have to." She shook her head when Ashe opened her mouth, unwilling to sit still to banter. "Sometimes, I wonder if you truly care or if you're trying to cover up something you hate to acknowledge." Ceiara never understood the mind of a supposed royal, but with all the time she had spent with Ashe even as a young child, she doubted she ever would.
The Archer remained still, gritting her teeth and her eyes narrowing but her friend remained unwavering beneath the icy gaze that would crack even the hardiest stone. "Ever the stubborn one," she said, and whilst Ashe's expression was devoid of any anger, it was plain in the way her reply ripped the air. "Just... leave me be."
It was avoidance, and something Ceiara was all too familiar with. She knew better than to continue, and instead bowed stiffly. “As you say."
Ashe was left alone as the other trudged off. She turned the slightly bruised apple around in her hand idly, her sudden temper fading as the Archer took to the sight of muffled stars and empty clouds floating in the distance. Even if they were 'just clouds', they appeared more than just that. An ominous darkness lay about the lands they intended to travel to and fight in. Suddenly, Ashe wasn't so sure if they should go but only for a second. They set out for a reason and she intended to see it through to the end.
With a heavy sigh, Ashe stood up and made her way back to her own tent, only stopping to place the apple in front of Ceiara's before slipping into blankets weaved with unfinished dreams and tangled with sleepless nights and thoughts of snowstorms and cryptic looks.
