A stroll in the wilds just east of Divinity's Reach. (Intro Story)

Darkness overtook the man, it seems to envelop about him, circling as if a predator circling prey. As it did so, there was a bright light in the distance of the darkness. Then a flash, the light overtaking the darkness if only for just a moment. A grey bearded man In plate mail armor looked In the distance and spoke with a low, quaking voice: “Viktor . . . where ever you may be. Do not forget. Vanquish the evils of man. Do not falter.”. Then suddenly the darkness flooded the light, pushing it out of the sight before there was only darkness. Hoarse laughter came as first a whisper in the distance, growing to a roar of laughter. A cackle. Then there was light.

The day was bright, a brisk wind brushing aside the long branches of trees and bushes alike. Sparrows and all amounts of birds chirped all about, the sound of the city of Divinity’s Reach in the distance only being a footnote of the noise in the forest. Viktor arose from his dream, castings an alarmed look at his surroundings. He calmed as he noticed he the fact that he was in the forest, the leafs of a close tree brushing his skin. Leaning forward, he managed to push himself up before a hand urged towards his pounding head. His ears perked a moment as he heard something else in the distance. Chatter. Deciding that seeking those that spoke would fair him better than remaining on the ground.

Viktor steadied himself against the close tree, using one of its long branches to help pull himself up to his full six-foot height. Glancing about, he adjusted his trousers slightly, eyes looking about a moment before stepping forward cautiously. As he walked towards the chatter, he adjusted his opened shirt, attempting to make himself slightly presentable, buttoning desperately before running into a low-hanging branch. His nose smacked against it, leaving behind some dirt and moss on his already dirty face. Cursing some, he wiped most the dirt away with his left hand. His eyes rested on it a moment, looking at the strange tattoo on his left hand. As he looked over it, he seemed to forget the apparent people close by.

“That did not look comfortable.” A phlegmatic statement of fact, from the woman who was watching him.

Given his preoccupied state, he probably just failed to notice her step from behind the foliage. Perhaps he ought to have, given the ostentatious colouration of her clothing. Bright magenta, orange, and blue, in a cascade of layered skirts, blouse, and vest. Warm for the season, but necessary for maintaining the dignity of nobility that the cut of her clothes implied. Her demeanor made no such assertion.

In truth, she looked almost, almost disheveled-- wisps of blonde hair escaping the elaborate twists that kept it up behind her head, scuffs across her fitted leather boots, and even a few, a few dirt smudges on her clothes. These details aside, she'd almost pass as nobility-- if she stopped with that curious tilt and that off kilter smile.

His eyes rested on the woman in a pondering manner, his mind ticking away at her casual demeanor. “It was not, no.”, he said in a quiet manner, his brown-oak eyes peering a moment in a cautioun. He stepped further out of the bush, to be cleared of the annoying branches that had struck him once already. In full view, he seemed to be something of a wildman – perhaps a criminal, slave or exile. Though he was unarmed and by the display of his clothing, not very wealthy or worth worrying over.

“I – uh.”, he stuttered in a quiet manner a moment before clearing is dry throat, speaking clearly and louder this time so she may better hear. “Where am I?”, he asked in a confused manner, his eyes looking around: Obviously now on full alert.
He stepped aside further, keeping his distance from her, though glancing around in a cautious manner – obviously looking for something of an escape route if he needed it. He was not yet to assume anyone as a threat, nor ignore the possibility of it.

“Outside the walls.”

She didn't move as he did, save to link her fingers demurely in front of her. His appearance was feral, certainly, but she did not seem afraid for it. She merely observed with the casual attention one might reserve for watching a bird, keeping movements few and slowed for fear of scaring it.

“But you don't recognize it.”

She moved then, taking enough steps forward to stabilize the branch that yet shuddered from its impact with his face. Its quivering turned into a gentle drift as her hand fell, to resume her earlier posture.

“You're lost.”

Another assertion of fact, just as offhandedly delivered as the first. A strange woman, no doubt, but without a hint of malice in her.

The man looked towards her as she said "You are lost.", his eyes seeming to settle in the comfort of those words. Deciding that she was not a threat, his guard lowered enough to become a bit more approachable. Glancing about once more, he stepped a touch closer, his eyes rested on hers. "I am lost. I do not remember very much and to top it off, my head feels like a tree-trunk fell on it.", he said with a small groan, rubbing at the bruise at the top of his head.

"Outside the walls - of where?", he asked as he attempted to look presentable, adjusting his shirt prior to scrubbing at his dirt-covered face. "And I believe manners would be best: Given that I don't remember anyone, or really much of anything. Though if my dreams speak to me correctly . . . my name is Viktor."

“Humanity's largest bastion.”

It was probably a good thing the man didn't offer his hand for a shake, it was filthy. Not that the dirt seemed to offend her, but more that she seemed...detached, from the scene. One might get the sense that she would sooner stare at a hand than shake it. Even as he relaxed, she kept the same specimen scrutiny on him- aloof curiosity.

“Rulon Havely, if you believe manners to be best.”

Her eyes lifted to follow the massage of his scalp, and she skirted closer in an odd semi-circle path until she stood to his left, still eyeing what little she could see of his injury.

“You are not intoxicated, nor, does it seem, were you previously.”

"No.", he said simply as she started winding about him, looking him over like some creatuer that has never been seen. It gave him an uneasy feeling at best. "I don't remember anything of what has happened . . . I am having a hard time remembering much of anything, honestly. I don't remember where I come from, I don't remember anyone or anything much.", he said in an honest tone, looking towards her with a curious eye. "I have my reason for being out here - what is yours?", he asked with a casual demeanor, his eyes resting on hers.

“Your reason, as specific as my own. I was looking for, and it seems I have found, A Something.”

She tipped her chin askance, still scrutinizing the point of injury.

“You are most likely concussed.”

That explanation came with a subtle shift in her demeanor-- the wild bird was discovered to be injured. She smiled- not the odd introspective twist of her lips she'd met him with, but a soft look with the intention of comfort.

“What a unique opportunity. You can reinvent yourself. If you wish to take a different name, I will not say otherwise.”

Her focus dropped from injured skull to him- to his face, specifically- to meet him at something closer to human terms of politeness.

“Will you come with me?”

Despite the non-rhetorical nature of the question, the woman has already turned and started, at an ambling pace, towards the city.

Her words twisted around him before entering his mind - his thoughts were racing madly. "So many questions . . .", he thought to himself before taking a deep breath, his eyes closing momentarily. He thought to himself - "Reinvent myself . . . Perhaps.", he said outloud before glancing back down to the tattoo on his hand. "But not before I learn who I was.", he murmored to himself more then towards Rulon. Opening his eyes, they met her eyes for the first time. Comfort blanketed over him as that simple measure of humanity struck the correct nerve.

Her question was met with a drift upon his facial features, a small smile forming upon his dried lips. He followed her, remaining behind her a moment before stepping forward as they strode towards the city. "I do not feel as though the city is for me - however, given my circumstances - I will go with you.". His words lingered a moment in air as thoughts pondered to himself, asking himself why he doesn't like the city. Simply shrugging the thought off, he continued forward along side Rulon.

The woman said little else as they passed through the gates and into the city. She seemed at home here, familiar at least, but her steps veered and dodged the city's steady trickle of people and business, as if trying to avoid their notice. Little luck, considering her garish clothes, but stares and hails alike were met with a quick, disengaged smile, then ignored.

If he'd any notion of the city- or even if he was simply paying attention-, he'd realize the round-about path she led him on. As it was, their path circled back once, hairpinned twice, and finally wound itself on the least efficient route to a large, well-kept estate at the far end of a manor square- nobility, no doubt. The only thing to differentiate this plot from its neighbor as being a mere residence, would be the sign giving the faintest 'cree' as the wind buffeted it gently. It read: 'Corussa Embassy: Residence of Duchess Mealla Aislin.'

"Now will do." She commented, to no one in particular.

Somewhere along the way, they had picked up a cat that skittered alongside their path, disappearing down alleyways only to reappear minutes later. Or perhaps it was many cats of the same patterning, taking turns to greet them. This one took the paused opportunity to curl itself about Ru's ankles, then skittishly attempt the same of Viktor's.

Rulon paid it no heed as she strode past the two stoic guards at the estate's entrance. They acknowledged her with a nod and a 'ma'am,' then turned silent, less than affable, regard on the bedraggled Viktor behind her.


Edit: Continued over here.