Beta: TheSilverboar

Thank you all for being interested, and I hope you enjoy it!

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There are times when the darkness is so thick you can feel its inky tentacles caressing your skin. There are others when perhaps things are not as bad as they seem. While frankly, life seemed more inclined to give tentacles than sunshine, Vesli was used to plates of calamari showing up at his door step. Oh, it hadn't started that way. There were vague childhood memories of parents, pets, and actually having a full head of hair. It wasn't until his stupid teenage self had accidentally managed to somehow dominate a vicious bar fight (honestly, he really had no idea how he'd managed to break furniture much less anyone's bones) and draw THEIR attention that general contentment spiked with teenage angst took a nose-dive into Tartarus. Ironic considering THEY were believed to be Holy Brothers. Servants of the Light. THEY had used Vesli's growing hormones against him, injected him with poisons and mutagens of varying colors and needle sizes.

The time with THEM… was a haze. A cell. Fiery acid in his veins. The sensation of bones warping and changing, forcing whatever ilk that had passed for food up out of his stomach. Years. He realized he had no idea how old he was. Couldn't even recall his birthday. Decades? He couldn't remember the faces of his family anymore. He was only 85% sure he had a name. It started with a V. Not an A, despite what THEY insisted on calling him. In contrast to the pain fogged memories, Vesli remembered his escape in perfect clarity. The Big Bastard in charge had smirked as the others held him down, despite his struggles. Big Bastard had heated up the vilest of letters into a glowing inferno of hate. The letter touched his head. And It broke loose.

It also remembered getting out of the Stone. Weak prey-things had thought to hurt It with Fire. It showed them the error of their ways. It mildly noted a storm outside of the Stone as It decided It liked weak prey-thing leader better if the prey-thing leader was being RIPPED. INTO. TINY. PIECES. The rain outside the Stone had felt good on the Mark the Fire had left. It had stretched in a feline way before lumbering away from the Stone lazily. It ignored the trail of blood and prey-thing insides left behind It.

Vesli had wandered, searching for a purpose. It hadn't much cared to comment one way or the other. They learned to accept the fact the other existed. They even eventually learned to work together… well tolerate ensuring that the other didn't die at the very least. They did odd jobs, and news quickly carried of the Abomination (Vesli and It both wanted to know how one of THEM had escaped). Then Vesli heard of the Hamlet. Riches and glory in reward for killing whatever he was pointed at – with an added warning about the number of possible tentacles. It approved of this plan. Vesli was used to calamari. And so they went.

The Holy Crusaders. The Sister Vestals. The Stricken Lepers – who honestly Vesli had thought would be more understanding, damn hypocrites. All refused to even be near him in the Hamlet. They sat as far from him as possible if forced to share the Tavern. One Vestal even went so far as to sneer at him when she'd found him praying in the Abbey. It marked her face in Its mind. "Piece of advice Sister, keep an eye to the moon," Vesli idly informed her. He was 99% sure she didn't listen to him. He'd only be 100% sure if or when It caught up to her on a Gibbous night. Well. It wasn't like he'd given her no warning. It was the Vestal's own fault if she didn't pay attention.

Days passed of having no one who was willing to allow his company, even if they were going out to kill things. It began to itch under his skin. It was getting bored. That was never a good thing. Honestly, you'd think that he and the Lepers had swapped places. Or that they'd at least accept another fighter helping them to prune the tentacles infesting the place like weeds. He glared at the mug in his hands, wondering if it be more help or hindrance.

"Narrowed eyes. Hunched shoulders. Annoyance, perhaps. Boredom almost certainly." The unexpected feminine voice had Vesli's eyes jolting up from the ale, his tattered red cloak almost falling off of him, and claws scratching the mug with a shrill scree. The bone-white avian mask of the speaker tilted clockwise. "Not overly observant. Surprised easily. Harbors some sort of mutation." It growled low in the back of his throat as Vesli's control danced on a razor's edge. Light played along the Bird's lenses, which along with the twice-cursed leather they sat in kept her expression hidden. The mildew green dress-coat-thing she wore hadn't so much as twitched since the Bird had sat across from him. If she'd flinched at the growl, she was damn good at hiding it. It flared the weak prey-thing nose It was forced to use in this pathetic shape. No smell of fear. It decided that weak prey-thing senses were best left to weak prey-things and muttered grumbles in Its incomprehensible speech-growls before leaving Vesli to handle the Bird-not-Bird. The man inhaled, counted to five, and exhaled.

"What was it you wanted, Doctor?" Vesli gave himself a mental pat. He certainly didn't sound like his almost-shift had left rather visible scratches on his still full mug of ale.

"Surprisingly well spoken. Voice also strangely pleasant. Do you sing?"

"…what."

"Hearing perhaps impaired. DO. YOU. SING?" The careful enunciation prompted an eye twitch. "Hmm. Singular eye spasm. To be investigated later." Inhale. Increase count to ten. Exhale.

"My hearing is just fine. I'd say I can hear about as well as you can see through those lenses, thank you for the concern. And in answer to your question doctor, I have never tried singing for others, and I have no opinion on idle humming produced by my wandering mind." Vesli set the cup down, not wanting to pay for any more damages that may incur to the metal on account of this so far very inane conversation. "You never answered my question, Doctor. Was there something you wanted?"

"Ah. Yes. You are bored. Judging on your physique you are a soldier, though there's some Monastery and Scientist in your speech. Wonder how you got that? Wandering around? Were you once a scholar and then a soldier or the other way around?"

"Doctor."

"What? Oh. Sorry. Right. The soldier is needed, though the scholar is a curiosity."

"In the common tongue, please, Doctor."

"The Heir insists on parties of four. Claims they're safer. More synergy. Less mistakes. Debatable, really. Plausible positives to threes not addressed as they should be. May approach-"

"Doctor!" It added a growling undertone to the chide. She was officially a Bird in Its mind as well. Nothing else would chatter so. Though both man and beast were admittedly impressed by the fact she would do so around them somewhere in deepest-dark of their subconscious.

"Apologies. Plainly then. You are a bored soldier. There must be teams of four. You would serve well as a damage dealer and a damage taker. I myself am a more fragile entity, though my knowledge of poisons, medicines, and major blood vessels should compensate." It perked up in Vesli's mind, like a predator who'd caught wind of wounded prey.

"Are… are you asking me to join you on one of the Heir's errands, Doctor?" Vesli wondered who was more mentally unstable in this situation. Bird for asking, or him for considering it.

"Yes. Aptly put. Most succinct summarization." Him. Definitely himself. But It was restless. If Vesli didn't do something soon… well desperate times called for desperate measures.

"We would still need two others," both an observation and possibly a last-ditch effort to save himself. Its snarling reprimand echoed through his thoughts.

"Easily taken care of. I can be most persuasive," Bird assured.

"Of that I have no doubt," the words left before Vesli could curb them. Best to continue and hope to drown them out. "Though I have an important question if I may, Doctor. Why me?" Her avian mask rotated counter-clockwise this time, the light of the tavern glinting off the lenses.

"A curious question. Self-conscious perhaps? Why not you?" One of Vesli's finger tapped a slow rhythm on the table as his left eyebrow rose about a centimeter. Bird gave a sigh that had her deflating somewhat. "In honesty, you are not the first I have approached."

"Oh?" the tone was only mildly interested, much in the same way a leopard would only be mildly interested in an abandoned fawn.

"I approached the more experienced Crusader first. What's his name? Rodger? Raymond?"

"Raynauld." Vesli had attempted much of the same. Raynauld's look of disdain had been sharp enough to pierce the metal helmet as the Crusader had told everyone that he would not serve with this… 'creature'. It wasn't very fond of Raynauld either.

"Yes. Him. I approached him in hopes of going on one of the Heir's easier errands with an experienced soldier. It was a simple task. Exploring the Ruins. He refused".

"And why is that?"

"He said it was beneath him. A mundane errand better suited to servants." The 'lead' Crusader somehow managed to slip lower in both Vesli's and Its opinions. It suggested eating him. He refused cannibalism. It then suggested killing the metal-prey-thing and letting four-legged-pests eat him. Vesli considered a moment. Then he decided that it would be best not to displease the Heir by killing off one of the (somehow) most useful employees. It sulked. Vesli commiserated.

"Better suited to servants? Interesting then that he's done the most of the 'servant' work so far," he mused. There was a soft sound. Bird shook slightly. Vesli wondered a moment if he managed to break her psyche. Then Bird laughed. An actual human sounding laugh that spoke nothing of her clinical and sporadic observations before.

"A sense of humor. A curious development," Bird's next comment was marred by her snickers.

"Well it hardly stands up to my handsome face, but it is there." This time Vesli was not able to hide the uncensored words amongst a torrent of others. He swore there was a glint behind those lenses of hers. It shifted uneasily in his mind as it seemed the darkness closed in to haunt the hearts of men. Well, actually one man. Who was not sure if he should fear more for his life… or specific digits and appendages. Unsure of what his offense truly was, Vesli stumbled for words to correct it.

"I suppose you have this rustic charm," Bird commented after a beat of Vesli's painful panicked silence. His flailing thoughts came to a screeching halt.

"Beg pardon?"

"Though, I must invest time in making a tonic to encourage hair regrowth. The bare skin cannot be comfortable in direct sun."

"Well, I did burn it once but-"

"The scruff on your face is adequately attractive. It may stay."

"… Thank you? Still-"

"Do you not wear a shirt on principle or is it because of the chains?"

"There's actually good reason for that. Please-"

"Fair enough. Must the chains remain?"

"They have their uses, just-"

"What sort of uses?"

"You hit an enemy hard enough with them, they get dazed. Now-"

"So, battlefield uses?"

"And uses for the mind, focus-"

"Nothing else? Fair enough. Best to test waters before discussing more adventurous subjects." Vesli wheezed as he choked on his words.

"Woman, what in the name of the Light-"

"My name is not woman, sir."

"And I am no sir, now what-"

"Then what is your name? You never offered a chance for introductions. Fairly rude in most circles if I remember correctly. But as I forgot myself I see no reason to hold the slight against you."

"Vesli. Just-"

"Ironic."

"… Ironic?"

"Precisely," Bird nodded.

"How?"

"My name is Veci." With that Bird, Veci, was up out of her seat. "Now to find our remaining two. I shall be back before dinner with any luck." And then she was out the tavern door.

Vesli sat there. Inhale. Increase count to fifteen. Exhale sharply. Just what in the name of the everlasting Light had he gotten himself into?

It decided It was still going to refer to her as Bird. Vesli informed It that It was not helping.