Outpost Assistance [Complete]

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet for what must have been the hundredth time, Orup finally conceded to the discomfort and lowered his pack to the ground, finding somewhere near it to sit. While it might not have been the smoothest of surfaces, his round form provided sufficient padding to make up for it. Sighing, he leaned his head back against one of the cave walls and shut his eyes; years ago he might have been antsy to go, but now sitting down and resting sounded like a much better option whenever given the opportunity, but it was likely to be short-lived.

The folded letter that had summoned the help of the Western Caves rested tightly in one of his side pockets, flexing itself each time his large belly expanded and deflated granting him a slightly irritating reminder that a day's journey of walking was ahead of him. All that remained was for that Dragonheart fellow he had hired to show up. He wondered once more if a single guard would be sufficient for the journey and stay at the other outpost, but Rua had been quite confident that he would be the only one necessary. Internally he shrugged his shoulders, mind returning to his aching feet; sometimes being slain by Ganon's minions did not sound too unappealing. He thought he heard something off in the distance, though, echoing down the cave's length. This was a common enough spot for meeting before leaving the Western Caves, but not too many were up this early in the morning.

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Voices drifted up through the tunnel, growing steadily more distinct as those who the voices belonged to grew closer to the alchemist resting within it. It was quickly apparent that there were only two of them, matching the mismatched sounds of footsteps that accompanied them. Soon, it was more apparent that the two of them were of opposite genders.

"... so how long should I expect you gone this time?" came the woman's voice, questioning in tone. "Should I keep your things out?"

"I don't think I'd be gone too long," the man replied, sounding indifferent. "We'll be gone one, two weeks at the most. The outpost isn't too far from here and the attacking force is long gone by now."

"Well, you never can tell with you," the woman's voice returned. "For all I know you might head up into Tantari again." She sounded a bit irritated.

"I might," said the man, either not picking up on her tone or ignoring it outright. "Depends on what I find there."

There was a sigh. By now, Mepple would be able to see the people approaching him--two Hylians, the male taller than the female by almost half a foot. The man's weapon was bouncing off his thigh with each step, making a light, metallic clink. He put a hand on the pommel to steady it. The woman beside him had pulled dirty brown hair into a ponytail draped over her shoulder, the front of her blouse hidden from view by the folded red cloth she held in her arms, and her own pace caused the long blue skirt she wore to make soft, swishing sounds. Her blue-green eyes were locked onto the man's back, looking quite concerned, but Rua missed it entirely--his pace was greater than hers, keeping him ahead, and thus he never saw the frown on her face.

But that was normal for Rua and Ayls' relationship, if anyone listened to the gossip in the Western Caves when it occasionally turned to them. He almost always acted cold to her, but she never complained and there was never any hint of abuse. Some still wondered what the two meant to one another.

Ayls tore her gaze from her friend and brightened as she saw the older alchemist resting in the tunnel, and smiled. "Good morn, Orup. I hope you weren't waiting too long for Rua."

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Orup tilted his head down the tunnel as the voices announced themselves from a distance. The conversation nearly brought a smile to his face at first, but as he listened on it turned into a frown. Sighing, he wiped is face clean of emotion and struggled to his feet, tugging on his vest to straighten it and clear the dust; there was nothing to be done, really. As they finally came into full view, he readjusted his face to carry a broad grin, clearly in a good mood to be departing soon.

Dragonheart's rather liberal relationship with this girl was often the talk among many, but it gave the alchemist little concern these days; Alys was not particularly a stranger to him either, so far as he was concerned, but he had brewed many potions for many different residents of the Western Caves. Best to leave that whole thing alone for everyone's best interests. Giving himself a firm nod inside his head, he approached the two beaming, "And a good morning it is indeed, Alys. Had I known you would be seeing him off, I'd have doubled the pay!" Without waiting for the comment to be taken as anything but benign, he bowed his balding head toward her courteously, still beaming when he looked up and transferred his gaze to Dragonheart.

"And of course, Rua as well; you look ready to confront Ganon himself, boy! Just what I was hoping for." He extended a respectful hand in the direction of the younger man, already feeling the tiniest beads of perspiration building up on the back of his neck. Rua was strong and capable, but not the most amiable of all sorts. It couldn't really be held against him, but it made the alchemist a touch uneasy in his presence.

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Ayls only giggled and smiled at the compliment, standing just slightly behind her male companion. Rua gave the alchemist's extended hand for a moment, and it seemed as though he wouldn't accept it; but finally, the mercenary relented and grasped Mepple's hand in his own leather-clad one and gave it a firm shake. "We should probably set off soon," he told his employer. "We've got quite a bit of ground to cover, if we're going on foot."

"You should be fine," Ayls said, looking at Rua. "The wildlife tend to clear out of the area whenever there's an attack. I doubt they'll move back in quite so soon."

"I don't see why we should take that chance," Rua said back to her as he shifted back on his foot, left hand still resting on the pommel of his sword. "Ambushes are too common around here."

"I suppose you'd know best," the woman replied, shaking her head. "Just be careful, both of you?"

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The smile on the older alchemist's face faltered for a brief moment as Rua contemplated taking the hand for what felt like an eternity and a half. As the hired sword spoke, though, Orup quickly bounced back and nodded quickly, releasing the man's hand without a moment to lose. "He's right of course; there's no time to be wasted. The outpost could certainly use our help sooner rather than later."

Turning himself toward the exit of the caves, the alchemist reached into his vest and produced a clean, white handkerchief, dabbing away the sweat already forming on the top of his balding head and just above his eyes. After a moment's pause, though, he replaced the cloth in his hand with a map, the location marked northwest from their current place in the caves. "I'll leave the navigation up to you, Rua. I'm sure you know the extended geography much better than myself, and it won't do anyone any good if I get us lost." He offered a weak, self-deprecating smile as well as the map to the younger man.

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Rua merely looked at the map that Mepple held, taking hold of it himself and angling it so he could see it. He examined it for a moment or two, frowning, before finally nodding and letting go of the parchment. "Yes, I know the route there. Shouldn't take us more than a day of walking if we don't stop," he said. "And if we don't get ambushed along the way."

"Well, if you do, try to stay safe," Ayls said, looking at Rua as she unfolded the red cloth in her arms. The cloak fell down, and as he turned back to her, she swept it around the back of his neck, letting it fall across his shoulders, and she clasped it in place. "I tried to patch it up the best I could. Try not to wreck it so bad again."

He nodded as she straightened it on his shoulders before backing up a step. "See you in a week, then," Ayls said, smiling briefly. She turned and made her way back down the tunnel. Rua didn't watch her leave; instead he turned back to his employer.

"Let's go," he said, stepping forward to leave.

Re: Outpost Assistance [Closed]

And so they walked. For Orup, time passed quickly though not painlessly, his feet bringing him discomfort within the first mile or two. Minutes passed to hours, and the two found themselves with a pleasantly easy silence. Orup had made a few stabs at conversation early on in their travel, but thanks to his warder's nature they fell on relatively flat, uninteresting ground, and the alchemist himself had little to contribute either, he found. Finally, though, after what must have been four or five hours, he spoke, just on the verge of panting for breath, "Perhaps this wouldn't be a bad time to stop and have a bite?"

It was far from the first time he had asked to stop for a bit, though now his stomach rumbled as surely as his feet ached. The sun was at it's peak by now, and the heat seemed to absorb all the sweat on top of his balding head before he could even dab at it with his already yellowing handkerchief. Uncomfortable already with the sun overhead, Orup did his best to ignore any sort of awkwardness between himself and the hired hand; most people found the alchemist likable enough, but Rua seemed to breath tension.

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The journey thus far had been fairly uneventful, with only one creature sighting, but the kargoroc paid them little mind, preferring the weaker prey it had been circling in the far-off field. Rua had paid it little mind, and had quickly ushered Mepple along the path. Still, though, Rua was somewhat disappointed with the distance they had traveled--he usually covered more ground, but Mepple's sorry physical state had proven to be rather irksome for traveling. He knew better than to voice his concerns, though.

As it was, though, when he heard his employer ask for a stop, he looked back over his cloak, his face carefully schooled into impassiveness. "You didn't pack food that can be eaten on the move?" he asked, still walking along the path towards their destination.

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Despite Rua's speed, though, Orup was already beginning to slow to a stop. He had no desire to antagonize the bodyguard, but neither stomach nor foot was giving him a whole lot of room to argue; Rua would just have to put up with it. Heaving a sigh, he kept his voice pleasant enough, though the rumblings in his stomach chipped away at his patience, "Remember who's paying you, Rua. If our journey takes an extra day or two because my body isn't as young as yours, then you'll certainly be compensated for it. Besides, it'll give us no advantage to arrive at the outpost after the sun's already set; the inhabitants will be itching for treatment that I can't give that late into the day. Just relax and slow down. We'll get there soon enough." While he was saying this, the rotund alchemist was already swinging off his pack and proceeding to dig through it, looking for his midday meal that he had brought with him while sitting down near the road.

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Rua did his best to repress his sigh, having dealt with this kind of behavior from previous employers several times in the past. Instead, he nodded once to the old alchemist, halting his own walk. "As you wish, sir," he said. "Just be sure to eat quickly. We haven't seen much today, but there's no point in risking an ambush."

Perhaps his statement was on the side of the overly cautious--some would go so far as to say paranoid--but he wasn't considered a good bodyguard for his amicable personality, after all. Casually, he drew his sword from its scabbard, making nary a sound as it was drawn. "I'll make sure there's nothing nearby to give us a scare," he told Orup. "I'll be back in a few moments."

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Orup gave Rua a polite nod, returning to his food and doing his best to follow the instructions. He did appreciate that Dragonheart had yet to really voice a complaint, but it was uncomfortable enough knowing it was there. He sighed once more, focusing again on his food; at least some enjoyment could be savored from that. He might not be the quickest or the most durable of people, but Orup had learned like any Southern Hylian by now that being able to move and recover quicker than you might like could be a skill that would save your life. Not that he really was worried about Rua turning violent, but something about that man made him uneasy, like he was just ready to snap, but there was not really much to be done about that. He smiled once more as he quickly finished off the remnants of his food, curling his toes and stretching out the muscles in his feet. At the pace they had set it was likely that the journey would take more than a single day, but he supposed it could be worse. Best to keep a steady pace rather than be too reckless; at least Rua was cautious, even if a bit impatient. Dusting the crumbs of his short meal away, the alchemist returned to his feet, wondering when his bodyguard would reappear.

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It was only a few minutes before the mercenary returned, announcing his presence to the alchemist with a brief greeting. "There's not much here. Just some old game trails and a Kargaroc that's already found some prey," he told the man as he sheathed his weapon. "We should be safe for the time being."

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Orup nodded at Rua, checking the straps on his pack to make sure he had not left anything unsecured in his respite. The food had calmed both his stomach and his nerves, and he felt much more confident now in his dealings with the man. While Rua seemed determined to make their disposition with each other as uncomfortable as possible, the old alchemist guessed that the man would probably be more forthcoming if things softened up a bit. "I may not be as young as you, Rua, but I am capable of recuperating somewhat quickly. I'm ready to leave if you think it's safe to do so." Orup spoke cheerfully, careful to keep any sort of challenging tone that might irritate his hired hand yet more. He curled his toes, flexing the muscles in his feet in preparation of moving once more. As uncomfortable as it would be, it was his intent to try and make it until maybe even sundown before needing to rest once more. It was likely true that they wouldn't make the entire distance in a single day's travel, but, then again, that was largely why Orup had hired Rua in the first place.

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"If you think you're up to it, then we should get moving now. The sooner we get there, the better. I can eat on the way," Rua said, patting the satchel tied down to his side once with his hand. He didn't seem to react much to Orup's commentary--if he did, he kept his reactions to himself.

Re: Outpost Assistance [Closed]

The alchemist offered his bodyguard a thoughtful nod, and once again the journey began. Despite his intentions after his meal, though, Orup failed to produce any sort of conversational material that softened the stony mood, and so they walked, and they walked. Even when the sun began touching the horizon, they walked. Finally, though, it seemed they were coming to a stop in an ideal location for a camp. The man's feet ached and stomach rumbled again, but above all his body simply cried for rest, pushing aside any other concerns that seemed to crop up. He wasn't exactly curt with Rua, though he did give up on his efforts to sound friendly, exhaustion marking his words clearly, "I trust you can make the fire, then?" Before the words were even out of his mouth, the bedroll on his back had been loosed and rolled out before him on a decently flat surface of ground. Food would have to be had before sleep, but the day would be over for him in a matter of minutes provided nothing outstanding came about.

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Rua looked about the area, surveying how open it was. The sparse trees and brush, along with its relatively flat land, made it a poor spot to camp in his opinion, but ultimately there wasn't anywhere else they could go this far from the Western Caves. The ground just got too level--it was one of the main reasons why the outpost was built. Most physically fit people could get there within a day, but unfortunately, his employer was anything but.

Finally, he nodded. At the very least, any creatures that approached the campsite would be fairly easy to spot, and he could stay up for over a night without the need for much rest. "I can take care of it," he said, turning around to face Mepple. "Go ahead and get some rest, sir. I won't have to go far to get the wood we'll need."

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Flashing him an appreciative smile, Orup lowered his body to the firm ground and pulled out his evening meal. "Wake me if anything outstanding happens," he said half-heartedly, his tone suggesting that there would be very few things that would be important enough to move him now. The meal was small enough, but he took the time to eat slow enough for digestive purposes. The day had been tedious, but tomorrow would take a different level of energy. They were probably only two or three hour's walk from the camp, but the darkness setting in impeded too greatly to continue anymore for the night. Tucking away the wrappings of his finished meal, the old, tired alchemist lay himself down, shifted into a comfortable enough position, and fell fast asleep; he sincerely hoped the next time he awoke would be to the sunrise.

Re: Outpost Assistance [Closed]

As Mepple settled down to have his supper, Rua quickly got to work. The first tree he approached was fairly thin and its bark of a mottled gray color--it'd work well for firewood. The weather lately had been cooling as winter set in, but it hadn't been raining much, nor was it quite cold enough to snow. Plenty of dry wood to work with. The mercenary drew his sword from its sheathed and made a heavy vertical swing, cleaving one of the lowest branches off from the trunk, and it fell with a muffled thud against the grass. Two more branches were cut from the tree, though he was loathe to use his blade like a hatchet--it was meant for biting into flesh, not wood.

Such was the price of not making it to their destination when they should've, he figured somewhat irritatedly.

He left the tree alone after that and moved on to the next--it wouldn't do to strip the thing bare. Twice more he removed some branches from the trees before he felt he had enough wood, and he sheathed his sword and bundled them up in his arm, and brought them to where his employer had finished his meal. He dropped them to the ground with a clatter and knelt down next to them, drawing his knife to strip away the smaller branches from it. Knowing that he now had to keep watch for the entire night, he put little effort into his actions--if they got attacked in the middle of the night, it wouldn't do if his being worn out got Mepple killed. He frowned a bit as he cut the branches into a pile for the fireplace, and ignored his growing hunger--his meal would have to wait until the fire was started.

By the time he got it all piled and his flint out to light it, he could see that Mepple's breathing had slowed. He quickened his pace a bit to get the fire lit. It only took another five or so minutes before a decent flame was burning. Now he could eat.

As he uncorked the bottle of soup, he let himself lament that he would be sleeping on the ground again, instead of a decent bed. He may have been used to living in the wilderness, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

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Sunlight on the horizon woke Orup for what was likely the first time in a long while. Too many months spent in the caves got to a person, after a while, and the alchemist truly did enjoy spending more time out with nature. Rua might not appreciate having to spend more time traveling than they had to, but Orup actually found it to be quite a pleasant ordeal, once you got past the aching feet and sore shoulders that came the next morning. Well, he supposed it could certainly be worse; bearing more weight than average had its advantages, and being more comfortable than most on hard or coarse surfaces could be quite nice.

By the looks of it, nothing extraordinary had happened during the night. He doubted Rua had had a very comfortable rest, between having to be aware even when sleeping and having a less advantageous form for sleeping on the ground; it didn't matter too much though - Orup Mepple had long since tempered himself into a morning person, and nothing would put a damper on his spirit for several hours yet.

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Rua himself was seen standing, leaning against the tree nearest to their campsite. The mercenary had his hands resting against a drawn sword, its blade pointed down at the soil, and he was wrapped up in his tattered red cape for warmth. His eyes were closed, with telltale purple-black marks forming under his eyes, making for an odd contrast with the scar running over the bridge of his nose and underneath one of his eyes. He looked like he had fallen asleep standing against the tree during his watch.

But it only looked the part. When Mepple roused himself from his own slumber, the other man spoke, despite his eyes remaining closed. "When you're ready, you'll want to eat quick," he told him. "I've been hearing things creeping around in the wilderness all night, like they're trying not to be heard. I'd rather not risk sticking around to find out what."