War On The Wind

JP with Winteroak and Omni

Voah - It's been a few days since you left Gonyaul behind for his own protection. Your mind wanders. You are not sure what is expecting you. You are not sure how you will act in Margrave Otho's presence. You know of the Purger. Of his actions and accomplishments. Of his piety and faith. You know of his atrocities in the name of the Pillars and the Inquisition.

As you travel close to the Eastern coast of Arcadia the almost unbearable hot and dusty days on the Plains suddenly become cooler. You can feel the scent of salt in the the breeze. Sometimes you can almost smell the Ocean.

But the wind carries other smells. Burning for one. You see plumes drifting in the wind in the distant. The breeze brings also a peculiar metallic taste with it. You get a bad taste in your mouth. Ash, burnt flesh, blood. But more that that, as you come closer to Bootleggers' Pier and your destination it's like you can smell the madness that comes out in Men during war, when the realm of human consciousness is overwhelmed by chaos.

Leaving Gonyaul was hard, so hard. But if Hoi had blessed her to bring them together, Voah hoped that maybe someday they could be together again. And she hoped it was not just some test of faith… she didn’t want to believe that, but she wouldn’t beg Hoi for something she didn’t deserve. There was a tinge of guilt for leaving him at the end of their food supply to survive on his own. They had made a seemingly perfect pair, each of their skills complimenting where the other lacked understanding.

Yes it was hard to leave him with such a cold goodbye, but she had to do it this way, else she would never be able to part from him. Her prayers and thoughts were full and solely for Gonyaul. To Kupen for vigilance and protection. Hoi to make sure he found a love that he deserved. Zinheim to bless him with a full life and utilizing his time wisely before he was called to the garden. Vastad to be just and merciful, and to guide his weapon, his body, should he need it. In this land, Arcadia, he certainly would.

She had no waterskin. But at least she had a bow for hunting and it wasn’t hard to find a stream that ran down from Fang to the sea.

The plains seemed endless. By this point of her journey, the once pale skin of the Arbiter had been spring kissed by Kupen. A little reddish brown but she made sure she didn’t get burnt.

Sleep was uncomfortable and mostly eluded her for more than a few hours at best. It had been off and on like that since being in the mountains, but she made sure not to push Litany too hard. Every rabbit she saw reminded her of the best person in the world.

The further east Voah rode, the worse the air became, save for the cooler breeze and salt taste in the air. Signs of the war littered the land.. What she observed was atrocious, horrendous. The bodies, smoke, and devastation of villages. Her eyes stung from the smoke and tears. Voah knew she was getting close when she spotted small bivouacs as she advanced toward Bootlegger’s Pier. The Purger and his Silent Flock kept their camp near the beach.

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