Private Of Smoke and Silence

[Noa]

The indelible scent of cloves hung heavy around her as she hummed.

The snow fall softened every note, pipe smoke swirling up like a gray ribbon. The melody had shifted with every mile they took. It had started simple and familiar, a lullaby without words. Noa took her time with it, a quiet thoughtfulness the permeated with each beat and hook that Noa found. Things were discarded then tried again, any sort of changed was played with, the end at the beginning, the beginning at the end. Morose then jaunty, a tune that didn't match their journey.

There would be no happy ending after going into those caves. Lives were already lost, fear forever stained invisible within the dark. The only question was how far the Knights would have to go, how deep the hole they would dig to bury bloodlust beneath a mountain's roots.

Holding onto the coarse fur at Ne's shoulder, Noa hummed a song that suited a early spring night filled with stars and jasmine, slow and sultry, without a rush, every note deliberate. In the next moment, her deep voice was husky, deep with her signature rasp, a low keening as if there was sorrow for being denied life itself. Neither song suited the mountain climb with an icy breeze that burned against red and raw cheeks.

"I wanna go all out at the Festival of Lights this year," Noa said suddenly, pulling the pipe from her lips. Last year she had been absent while fulfilling her knightly duties that took her far from Astenvale. She had still thrown a concert for Ne and Syr Carminus, her light show reflected by the shimmering icicles that hung elegantly from thin tree branches. "What sort of song you think will be popular, Gruki? Or better yet, what do you like listening to?"

Gruki was one of the few Knights that could give Ne a run for his money in being large and practically all muscle. Gruki was far kinder than Ne, the sort of kindness that surprised strangers. The tiger thought that Gruki should be meaner, the blind knight thought she was just right how she already was. After all, this was the big sister who picked up Roki when he fell and their mother weren't present, the one who still watched over her little brother like a livestock guardian beloved by all the lambs.

Yeah, Gruki was good to have on a mission like this, empathetic with the tears of parents, fierce when it came to matters of justice. It was like having another Ne, but less bossy and mean. Noa took a long pull of spicy and sweet smoke, sandals lightly smacking against the snow and stone. Her black long socks were enough to keep her feet and calves warm. Ne chuffed a complaint as Noa knocked into him, her sanshin smacking against his stomach.

"Chilly around the Mheara, bet you're really feelin' it, huh, Ne?" The tiger growled out his mild annoyance. "What? Fur coat not warm enough for ya?" That was enough to earn Noa a swat from the tiger's tail.

 

[Gruki]

'I like listening to you, Noa.' Nod-nodding along the beaten path, Gruki swung a smile towards the Dusker, though, of course, she didn't see it. But you could hear a smile. And that's what matters, she mused, angling her gaze up the mountain, to where the white snows raged and the ghosts of former adventurers waited, cold and cruel as the landscape they haunted.

'I s'pose somethin' wistful would be nice t' hear,' she blinked, features exposed to the frigid breeze, more green than red. Orkin blood. Hardier than humans, they were, though lifestyle played a big factor.

'Or, um, upbeat! Somethin' to dance to, be it slow or... fast.' It was nice to imagine: swirling threads, interwoven, winter winds carrying Noa's song to those who needed it most. Reflection. Shroudlight in the dark, shining like fallen stars. Gruki felt a pang in her chest. Pity. Or perhaps guilt. 'We missed you last year, syr,' she spoke up, 'your music, and your presence. And Ne's.' A low rumble. Might've been acknowledgement. Gruki liked to think it was more than that.

Cloak snapping in the breeze, the she-ork gave her sword a rattle, ensuring it hadn't frozen in its scabbard. It weren't all that cold yet, admittedly, but negligence was a slippery slope, and the ground was treachorous enough already. 'We can tussle later, if'n he wants,' she grinned, tugging at the scarf Lou had gifted her- earlier than time dictated.

Didn't bear mentioning that they would probably be in a real, life-and-death fight before long. They weren't rucking to the mines for their health, after all.

'Are you not cold, syr?' Asked Gruki, glancing sidelong at her companion, red hair drawn back in a tight braid. 'You look cold.'

 

[Noa]

"Wistful, huh? But can dance to it, almost like that's my speciality." She cleared her throat. There was a melody there, almost out of reach. She breathed in more smoke, keeping it in her mouth a second longer than needed before releasing it as if she were a territorial dragon. Clove smoke was sweet and spicy, it worked well in the fresh snow, a scent that was mature and unique but still pleasant enough that one wished to capture its essence.

"Don't stare in that sad direction," the rasp of her voice smoothed out, each word carrying with it a layer of velvet or dark chocolate, "Close your eyes and let's kiss a sweet melting melody, it pulls you into a paradise inside the labyrinth of my heart, there's no exit or end, only I am wrapped inside." Noa brought her pipe back to her lips, considering the dreamy lyrics, for dreams always held a wistful quality to them. So did the first sparks of love, the fickle feeling that Noa claimed to not know of. "Chorus should be snappy, definitely something to feel in your bones." Who could resist dancing when the notes reverberated in bone marrow, the intrinsic life force of every body, regeneration and death in the deepest parts of the body?

"I got my thick underwear on, no need to worry." Her robes were always thick, comprised of a quality that was felt instead of seen. "Unless you're offering to warm me up after this? In that case, yes, I am the coldest." Cheerful mischievousness that were contrary to her dark attire, lifting the scars on her face in a way that was as romantic as a painter adoring their muse. There was no shame in the flirting, Noa was known for toeing the edge of friendship and lover, and she did it better than acrobats walking upon a tightrope. There was never a push or a shove, all of it playful, close enough to be a joke if rejection were to happen.

Not that Noa could remember the last time she had been rejected, but she was sure it must have happened. Ne growled and would have rolled his eyes if it wouldn't have made him look ridiculous. Tigers were not known for showing their sass outside of heavy paws, swishing tails, and the showing of fangs. A grumpy Ne was a good thing, it meant he was ready for what awaited them.

Noa, ever the Dusker, was grinning ear to ear. She had never been ashamed for craving a bit of violence, she was a fighter, and even if her stature was hardly as intimidating as Gruki's, the way she carried herself, even upon cold stone and fresh snow, the confidence of her abilities were clear in her moonbright eyes. They were nearly up the path, the caves the closet they had been yet.

Cresting upon the edge, now having to walk in a single file line, the wind was harsher here. It blew snow flurries about them, perhaps to dissuade their attempt at justice or a taste of the elements they would face inside. Noa could feel with each step that the give of the snow was dangerous, no longer wrapping around her foot firmly, it instead preferred to fall off the edge, finding a new ledge to cling to.

The only annoying thing about the wind was that Noa couldn't smoke, having to put her pipe away as she still clung to Ne, now her hand on where his tail met his spine. He would lead the Knights up the rest of the way, finding the pass that the children would have used to enter the caves. The wind screamed warnings at the Knights, the frigid rock cutting it off. Noa placed a hand on her favored sword tied to her hip, the blade nestled within it's sheath not nearly as long as Gruki's. The further between the rocks they climbed, the colder it got.

Three black, hungry mouths opened before the Knights, black stone contrasting against white snow, stark and sharp in their shapes against what could be shaped. The wind found its way to the maw of the mountain, whistling echoes inside empty tunnels.

 

[Gruki]

'Of course! Snappy is good. Like dancing.' The wind whispered its agreement, coming in over the jagged crest guarding their approach, the path narrowing slightly, the stone beneath their soles slick with meltwater. The ealdorman had warned them of the mountain's treachery - the secrets it held were not meant for mortal kith, he argued, citing dangers lurking in the dark.

Apparently, there had been a mine up here once upon a time, though no one living could attest to the fact.

Gruki felt her face grow warm at Noa's words. 'Oh! I, um, well.' She cleared her throat, the butterflies in her belly restless as ever, wings aflutter, surprise giving way to vague embarassment. 'I mean, well. I, uh, I wouldn't be opposed to it,' she smiled, turning her attention to the caves ahead, grateful that Noa couldn't see the way she reddened, or the gentle way in which she traced her own scars. Honour marks, Syr Jarro called them. He was kind like that.

Following along behind Noa, the orkin looped a hand through the back of her companion's sword belt. Ne was sure in his footing, and Gruki knew without a shadow of doubt that he would not lead his mistress astray. Even so, sometimes it was in everyone's best interests to show additional care. One misstep was all it would take to-

'Y'hear that?'

There, at the extremity of their combined senses, a noise. Shrill and fearful. 'Was that a scream?' Gruki wondered, releasing her grip on Noa as the ledge widened onto a broad shelf, which fell away sharply a dozen paces from the furthest entrance.

Snow crumped underfoot as the she-ork padded closer, retrieving a lantern from her pack, the black iron frame rattling as she attached it to her belt. 'The wind, perhaps?' Just to be safe, she drew her blade, resting it against her shoulder as she listened to the mountain speak. Or sing, rather. 'Dissonance,' she murmured, peering into the gloom, brow furrowed in concentration. 'I don't like it. Not one bit.'

Life's music was supposed to be sweet. Harmonious. Even when subjected to change. And yet...

Something stirred.

 

[Noa]

"Mountains are mountains," Noa said softly, "Mountains are not mountains. Mountains are mountains again." She saw history as something flat, and when she shifted her gaze to Gruki, the older woman proffered the orc a smile. The caves were daunting, failed ore extraction, many lives lost, whispers from ghosts lamenting their pain, their lost opportunities. Both Gruki and Noa had sensitive ears, one far more intuned to the Wyld speak than the other, but voices could be found within the crevices of cold rock. Snow had tried to muffle them, a secret that Mother Nature intended to creep.

"Relax, Syr, I am by your side." With Dawn and Dusk there was only an in between both of them could fill. From dawn to dusk, dusk to dawn, the gloaming sky only a witness to their detestation of the evil within these caves. A pale hand turned tanned long ago reached out to touch the armored elbow of her morning bright knight. "You trust me, don't ya?" Noa's smile tuned into a grin as she took the first step forward. Hand on her sword, other hand on Ne.

It was normal and natural to not like the foul stench of primordial evil. Terror indeed lurked within, open maws waiting for prey to wander in. Children were always easy to get, never the young ones but the ones about to turn into adults. They moved without fear, ignored the primal shiver. In a group like the villagers described? Of course they had felt invincible, of course they had gone inside, most likely loudly laughing, stamping out the snow beneath their boots on hard stone.

The only regrettable thing about this situation was that Noa knew her and Gruki were too late. Maybe if they were lucky one or two could be found and saved. Noa didn't get her hopes up about it. It would be a shame to only find what remained, but something returned to the grieving parents might still count for something.

The Dusker breathed in the air alongside Ne. One cave smelled of decay more than the others, but something told her that the tunnels made eventually all went to the same place. She turned to look back at Gruki.

"You think we're dealing with monsters that only feast on flesh or do you think they feed on misery, too?" Ne tossed his head, beginning to make his way towards the left most cave. He was well under the impression that the creatures inside were the cruel sort, that no feast could begin until the emptiness in their bodies was first filled with a poor soul's terror and regret.

 

[Gruki]

'One often leads to the other,' the orkin replied, brushing the ignition rune on the bottom of the lantern with her fingers, the gemstone within brightening as the ambient light dimmed further in. 'Death breeds misery. I imagine the experience is none too pleasant either.' There was dying and there was dying. Monsters rarely considered themselves such; fear or food, they killed because their nature told them to. If misery made the meat taste sweeter, then so be it.

Vengeance suited her palate just fine.

'As to whether I trust you... If you need to ask, you have your answer,' she smiled, a teasing lilt to her voice as she tapped Noa on the shoulder, before slipping past the other like the avatar of retribution the goodfolk saw her as. The longsword at her hip completed the illusion. To the she-ork's mind, Noa was the real threat. Of course, most uncovered the truth after the fact.

Monsters were like men in that regard. Everyone hungered.

Running her hand through Ne's fur, Gruki manouevered her way to the front of the pack, trusting her eyes and ears to lead the way, arcane light painting the gloom red. According to the scholars -of whom, there were many- orkin perceived light in much the same way as humans. Not that it mattered much to Noa or Ne. The tiger's sense of smell was second to none.

The Dusker, on the other hand, was more than just the sum of her parts, though Gruki never got tired of admiring them.

Something chittered deep within the mountainous webway. The cold was less present here. Even so, Gruki felt a shiver work its way down her back, the stench of rot winding through the tunnels ahead of them, drawing them deeper into the World Spine in search of lost souls.

'Have you ever been west of the Mheara, Noa?' Halting, Gruki glanced up in to the cavernous space around them, her voice echoing, asking the question again and again until it faded. 'It occurred to me that no one ever speaks of it. Not the sky crews, nor the cold traders. Odd, no?' No-no... no. Silence.

'I wonder what it's like.'

 

[Noa]

"Ouch, trying to hurt my feelings, Gruks?" Noa laughed alongside Gruki as her jest echoed about them, calling to whatever waited for them. The blind knight left Gruki's answer behind them, thinking the opposite. Many victims often became monsters themselves, many people believed them to be monsters. Monster was a cruel, ugly word, meant to sluice humanity from a body that was different than others. Monster meant to be other, monster was a black sheep that was still just a sheep. A wolf couldn't help that it ate meat, but to a rabbit that wolf was a monster.

Better to deal with instinct, the natural flow of nature, than to deal with a creature that new harm was bad and still chose to harm. Sometimes the act of it wasn't enough for them, they needed the grotesque, the tragedy, the misery. But Gruki wasn't necessarily wrong, either. Perhaps they both shared the trait that not everyone warranted empathy, that some were truly monsters no matter their story and for that they deserved to die.

The tiger pushed his head up against Gruki's hand, an encouraging gesture to let her take the lead despite neither tiger nor it's master needing light to see. Noa had brought out her pipe again, lit it with the snap of fingers, the clove smoke mixing with the stale dankness of wet snow, something bitter like bile mixed in between the heady layers.

"I haven't," Noa shrugged. "Ne isn't too fond of the cold, freezes his little tush off." He chuffed, indignant. It took a lot of restraint for Noa not to goad him further. "You wanna go over on the other side? I've heard when the moons align just right the dead come back alive and it's a free for all until the sun comes up. Imagine that, an army of bones and it's only you and your sword?" She gave a low whistle, impish grin wide and toothy. "Sounds like a good time to me. I'll check it out with you if you'll have my back." Of course, Noa would have Gruki's.

The only noise came from them, every now and then there was an idle drip or the crack of a loose stone against a wall. Why teenagers came inside here made little sense. It was too cold to enjoy the twist and tangle of hormonal bodies, much less to camp out with a fire that surely called all critters of the night to inspect.

Deeper and deeper, quieter and quieter, tunnels slowly becoming smaller, the ceiling reaching close to Gruki's head. The darkness fought against the orc's lantern, wishing to snuff it out, the knight's shadows along the cave walls were long and distorted, making the trio look like a lumbering monster themselves. There was no smell of decay, no whimper or cry, nothing out of the ordinary from their journey thus far to warrant the trail of bones.

At first they would look insignificant, mostly a rock, the shape undefinable about where it would belong on a body, if they were even human at all. The edges would be smoothed as if well sucked for a long, long time, ridges melting like sugar into long pale white obelisks. But more bones would be found in their path, more discernible than the last, not yet quite discarded but kept around in case the hunger grew too great and no prey was foolish enough to seek shelter within the mines.

A soft, displeased growl came from Ne. He was uneasy now, seeing a pile of bones that needed no excuse to fall apart and make a lot of noise.

 

[Gruki]

'A night of the living dead?' Maybe Noa's idea of fun differed to hers. Even so, she could not help but imagine it: Dawn and Dusk back-to-back against the restless horde, swirling and slashing, fighting on until the bitter end. On second thought, maybe not. 'Would make for an interesting story,' the orkin replied, bobbing her head, so as to avoid the stalactites protruding from the rock above them like outstretched finger bones. 'Noa, Ne and Ki. Has a certain ring to it, no?'

They made for a formidable trio. Whatever awaited them deeper within the mountain had its work cut out for it, or them or-

Gruki felt the blood lamp bump against her hip as the ground sought to trip her. Millennias of wind, water and physical wear had carved grooves into the rock beneath their feet. Shadowy pitfalls, real ankle-turners. The she-ork staggered, then righted herself. The ceiling tapped her on the noggin, as if to remind her. Eyes up, Syr! She smiled sheepishly.

''Ware your footing, Noa. It gets worse up ahead.' Ne rumbled indignantly. The raven-haired knight needed no guide but him. 'Sorry,' said Gruki. 'Sorry, Ne!' The big cat regarded her through slitted pupils, rumbled in a way that signified forgiveness. It was hard to tell, given the way the darkness seemed to drink up the light from the lantern, bleeding the world of its shape and familiarity.

The bones she recognised, at least.

'Human,' she grimaced, 'and... bighorn. Uh, mountain sheep, native to this stretch of the Mheara.' A number of settlements had tried domesticating them, though, not very successfully. They possessed a level of stubborness and free will that far surpassed that of their lowland kin. They were difficult to catch. Not that it had stopped her from trying.

To her nine-year-old mind, nothing was impossible.

Reality had hit her harder than her mother ever could. Looking down at the pile of bones, Gruki couldn't help thinking of the parents awaiting them in the village below, their shrill voices and terrified eyes. Pleading, begging her to bring their children home safe, knowing deep in their hearts that it was already too late.

'They've been here for some time. I think, I, um,' she swallowed, something like rage pooling behind her eyes until they overflowed. 'I think these belonged to someone else. A Deep Road explorer, maybe?'

There was a broken hilt amongst the shards of white. Gruki turned it over in her hands, before offering it up to Noa, grip-first.

 

[Noa]

"Voracious eaters." Noa said around the pipe as she held up the skull with both hands, feeling the weight. The size of the horns that turned and twisted were heavier than the skull itself, their texture both rough and smooth. "I've heard Mhearan Rams often get above three hundred pounds." Not a easy meal, and something had Noa second-guessing her original assumption that whatever lived in these tunnels waited for prey to come inside unknowing of the cruel fate that waited inside. Sheep did not stray from the rest of the flock, and a ram as big this most definitely wouldn't have.

Ne didn't stray far but the large tiger had gone over to sniff at the pile of bones, not looking for any dried scraps of meat and fur. His large white whiskers twitched inquisitively before he sneezed, the sound echoing about the length of the tunnel. Noa tilted her head so her ear faced where they were heading. She tossed the skull against the wall, letting it clatter and make more noise.

When Ne turned around, baring his teeth at how foolish it was to make such a sound to lead whatever was lurking in the shadows to come to where they were. They had lost the opportunity of surprise, what good was sneaking around now? As she took hold of the broken hilt with one hand her other went to remove the pipe between her lips, slowly blowing out a particularly thick, limbless body that slithered down from her lips until it reached the ground. The light of Gruki's red lamp had the snake of smoke glowing a spring time pink as light diffused around it. It stuck it's tongue out, faint movement in its body, like clouds slowly moving across the sky, only noticeable if one was willing to wait and watch.

Pipe held lightly between her fingers, balancing perfectly on wind-rawed red knuckles, dark lips pursed thoughtfully, Noa turned her head up, blowing another plume of scented smoke towards the ceiling filled with sharp stalactites. With barely there nod of her head, the snake that had begun endlessly coiling within itself finally unwound from it's knot and began it's journey within the cave, leaving the Knights and tiger behind.

"We go further in you're gonna have trouble swinging your sword about." Noa was looking at Gruki now. "You might already have issues using it now." It wasn't Gruki's fault that she towered over most at the Monastery and that if she used one of Noa's swords it would look closer to a dagger that was shit if it were thrusted into anything. "Besides, maybe it's not even inside." She gestured towards where she had tossed the skull. "Could be out hunting right now. Maybe there's one, two, maybe even many more."

Getting stuck in a narrow tunnel, monsters on either side, only knowing one way of escape, a reckless decision to continue forward, the pile of bones another warning that Noa wouldn't ignore just yet. Now and again she could be thoughtful, usually only when she had another to be concerned about. If she were alone she'd keep marching on with a faint smile on her face.