Ryoushi

With only seven vials to split amongst the four Nostrum, Briar sighs and places two aside for Belial, two aside for Cronn, two aside for Yuler, and pockets one for himself. With the rest lain out and ready to be collected, he watches the others finish dressing for the trek to come. Buckling boots and adjusting collars, they wipe the sleep from their eyes and shake off what grogginess still lingers as best they can. Briar, having been up for several hours already, remains seated next to the vials he had lain parallel to one another on a flat stone, and keeps the setting sun just within his periphery.

"I'm starting to think you're holding out on us." Cronn jokingly remarks, collecting his vials as he does so. "With a hoard this small I'd say you've already taken your preference share."

As Cronn makes way for the others to come forth, Belial slumps towards Briar, scraping fingernails against the stone and dragging the glass along it as well. Scratch marks along the bottoms of both make his carelessness obvious as they clatter about in the left pocket of his overcoat. With three of the four having gotten their share of supplies, an all-but disheveled Yuler is the last to arrive at the stone. Her rose-colored lips and flax eyes seem an anomaly amongst the dreary terrain, but a welcome one, nonetheless. Gracefully lifting a single vial between two fingers, she twirls it about for a moment. As if ensuring that the volume is sufficient. Seeming satisfied with what she sees, she slips the singular vial into a leather strap at her waist. Briar can tell that this strap was intentionally designed to hold such things, as the glass fits snug in the brace.

"Keep the last. You've done plenty enough for me up to this point."

"I appreciate your intentions, Yuler, but the vial is yours."

"Then it'll remain here; It's final resting place. Gru'go was giving, like you. Always took my well-being before his own. That's what got him killed." Yuler's face pales briefly, but she shakes off the grief and clears her throat. "If I'm not meant to roam this Earth, then let it claim me."

"Ah, a woman of faith?"

"A woman of fate." She corrects, raising her chin at an angle and taking a long breath.

"Then let us let fate decide." Briar smiles softly, expressing contentment. Then, stands and heads off in the direction of the others. Yuler follows closely behind, only to make a quick dart towards a shoulder of the line as Cronn rushes back in the direction they had just come from. Swiping the vial they had abandoned, he tucks it away with the others he had previously collected.

"As a man of odds, I must say my chances are greater than all of yours."

"Not if you don't learn to fight." Briar lashes back. Snickering as he makes his way down a slope only a few feet behind Belial.

Cronn lets Briar's words process for several moments before attempting to come back with another retort, but his brain turns to mush and all that pours out is partially formed words and complete gibberish. Accepting his loss, he grunts and moves to catch up with the others, falling in line as the tail end.

As nearly an hour of no more than walking passes, Cronn retrieves a large piece of folded-up paper from a compartment within his clothing. With only the sound of crumpled, rustling parchment to fill the silence, everyone remains curious about what it is he could be doing, and what it is he is in possession of. Eyes dart over shoulders as they continue on, trying not to lose ground whilst also keeping an ear out for potential nearby threats. As best they can, that is. Finally having enough of the sound, Belial puffs and stomps his feet in place, letting his head fall back at a sharp angle as he does so.

"By the Gods, Cronn. What are you doing?"

Startled by this, Cronn crinkles the large paper a bit and locks himself in place as well. Having no other choice, Yuler and Briar join in.

"Uh, oh. It's a map." Lifting the blank side up to the others, a flickering smile crosses his lips. "I recognize this area, so I thought I'd check it out."

"You recognize it?"

"Yes." He responds, simplistically. "We've been here rather recently."

"And where is here?"

Cronn continues to fumble with the map, turning it about and seemingly trying to pinpoint a location in the process.

"Ah, ha! Here!" The map folds as Cronn plants a finger against it. The others move in to examine the parchment themselves and both Belial, and Briar give a slight look of surprise.

"Is this the map from the tavern?"

"It is."

"And why did you keep it?" Briar questions further.

"It seemed a reliable resource at the time. I'm not so sure about that now, but it doesn't hurt to keep your findings."

"Wait, let me see that." Snatching the map out of Cronn's hands, Belial scans over the sketched images with his eyes and traces where they land with a finger. "We're rather close to where the tavern was."

"Perhaps we should pay another visit?" Briar offers, remembering what he had previously told Belial.

"You wish to detour?" Yuler asks, oblivious towards their interests with this 'tavern'.

"Not particularly, but I would like to keep true to my word."

"We're off then." Belial states in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Let's hope that some of Arbor's Home Brew survived the fire."

"Fire? What is all this?" Annoyed by the lack of acknowledgment, Yuler places her knuckles against her hips and jerks her head in the direction of each man. "Who is Arbor?"

The men look amongst themselves briefly, then face Yuler.

"A barkeep who... er... retired early."

"You killed a man?"

"Not quite a man." Briar assures. "The entire village was riddled with the plague. We cleansed it on our way back to Keep, but Belial has taken a liking to a beverage only they seem to have. I'd told him earlier on that I would retrieve more for him first chance I got and, well, it's looking like this is that chance."

"The detour will only throw us off by about fifteen minutes. There's no real loss here." Cronn feels Yuler's eyes turn to daggers against his own as he swallows and blinks away the sensation. "Besides, there's a good chance we'll run into more of our men there."

"What makes you say that?"

"We'll explain on the way." Belial pledges, eager to keep moving and quench an ever-growing thirst. "Let's head off."

Informing Yuler of Ersatz Village and their previous exploration of the place, Briar and Cronn do their best to keep up with Belial, who no longer feels that their journey has been aimless. Enjoying having a notable target in sight, he takes the map into his own hands and guides the way. In far less than the initial time thought, they arrive at the mimic town's gates. Unlike their last visit, the streetlamps have all run out of oil and the wicks have burnt out. The tavern that was once illuminated from the inside sits in torched shambles, and no other lights appear to be on in any of the other buildings. Putting up a guard just in case they have unexpected visitors, they tread through the streets and towards the tavern's remains.

A somber sensation floods over Briar and Cronn as they look about the damages they have caused. Though, only a single building was destroyed when they were last here, the effects clearly span the entire town. Empty homes and abandoned, deceased horses at posts litter the grounds. Not even the one they spared seems to be residing here any longer, and his name has already been forgotten. By all except for Belial, that is. As a peculiar scent in the air tells him that Gregory is still in the area.

"This place is a ghost town."

"We thought so, too." Cronn remarks, remembering his first impression of the place upon their prior arrival. "Just keep your guard up until we can be sure we're alone."

"No need," Belial begins, "we're here." Planting cleaver teeth against loose planks, he rips them away from the rest. Taking a few extra small chunks of the crumbled building with them. Following suit, Cronn and Briar begin plucking at the building as well. Trying to clear a path to the cellar.

"Isn't this a bit unorthodox?"

"Of course." Cronn admits, not looking away from the work at hand. "But, we are here and there is no reason to pass up on something that helps with coping." His final words are hushed enough that only himself and Yuler can hear them as he looks back at her. "Just keep an eye out for us and holler if something comes up."

Yuler sighs and silently agrees. Turning away from the men, she scans over the nearby streets. Studying every detail as she goes and imprinting the images into her mind. Being a practice she has become very efficient at, it's something of an outstanding skill. Little to nothing gets past her when she sees the same thing twice. Every crack and corner is accounted for, and the shapes of different objects become burned into her skull, making it obvious when something changes. Before long, Belial and Briar drop beneath the floorboards and out of sight. Leaving Cronn and Yuler at ground level to keep an eye on things.

"Is this common for your crowd?"

"No." He states plainly, not wanting to make a fuss of things. "We tend to stick to our objectives quite well, but sometimes, it's best to focus on ourselves and our partners. Belial and you share a rather tragic event now." With this, Cronn allows a brief silence to fall, just in case Yuler wishes to protest further engagement. Yet, to his surprise, she seems intrigued to hear more. "He lost his brother to a beast, not even a week prior to yourself. We actually discovered this place within the same moon cycle as Marne's passing." Cronn stifles a whimper as he thinks back on his lost friend, quickly returning to his prior behavior. "Anyhow, this beverage has given him something to fall back on."

"Isn't it a poor choice to permit such a thing to be some sort of fix for grief?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes. But not here. You see, there is only so much of this... stuff. So, no matter how much he takes to it, he can't hold on forever."

"So, you wish for him to handle his grief by losing something else he is keen of as well?"

"No." Cronn shakes his head weakly as his eyes skim over each overhead window of nearby abodes. "We intend to give him something else to think about for a while when there is no more. In time, it will become the one thing he desires, but cannot have, and eventually, that feeling will subside."

"That's a rather barbaric fix if I might say so myself."

"Perhaps." Cronn glances over at Yuler and shrugs as he looks to the ground. "But Belial is a hard-headed man. Something barbaric is exactly what it will take to get him through this."

"Got it!" A voice shouts up from below. The pair on the surface turn to face the rubble, where they see Briar and Belial climbing out of the graves of the townsmen. "And plenty enough to last quite some time!" Belial's rowdy vocals cause Yuler to shush him and turn about on her heels in a seeking fashion.

"What is it?" Briar asks, but the only answer he receives is another shushing.

"Get low!" She demands in a whisper. The surrounding areas now being too dark to examine without a light source. Following her own orders, she climbs over a large beam and ducks down behind it. Allowing just enough space for Cronn to join her.

With the four of them tucked away, and Belial pouring a bottle into a second flask Briar had given him, they listen. Echoing footsteps seem to be approaching the village from an uncertain direction. Yet, from the sounds of them, they are surely coming through the entrance gates. Briar picks up a total of three sets, but can't tell if they might be those of friend or foe. Peeking out from the cellar entrance, he catches a glimpse of the source. Three lanterns scour the furthest point of the main street. Lurching up and down as their possessors study each building, barrel, and wagon they pass.

"Who are they?" Yuler wonders to herself, aloud.

"Oh no." Briar allows his neck to stretch out further as he continues to confirm his theory.

"Is that...? Are they... Ryoushi?"

Briar nods, knowing that Cronn's guess is accurate as can be.

"Ryoushi? Out here? Why?" Yuler examines the curious Nostrum from her hideaway, studying their every move and peculiar activities. She determines that they are actively hunting something in the area. Yet, to her knowledge, they are the only living beings here.

Belial scowls at the distorted figures, recognizing their familiar blades as none other than Chokutōs. The mere presence of such a weapon makes his blood boil. No other Nostrum's tool has drawn so much innocent blood in the name of tradition. As he grips at the tavern's remnants and grits his teeth, an eagerness to lash out grows stronger by the second. Then, something long suspected happens. Noticing that the Ryoushi have all turned their heads towards the sky, the Purebloods do the same. Atop the nearest mountain, smoke bellows from the mouths of great braziers. Pillars of dark greys and blacks are engulfed by the night sky. Only being visible near their sources, where orange cores illuminate them.

"The Council decided to call us home." Belial states plainly before looking back in the direction of the Ryoushi, who have begun to trail off in the opposite direction at a quickening pace. "It seems we've got quite a few more stories to tell upon our arrival."