Zakhar
Catching the last leery look the mage had thrown his new companion, Zakhar bristled at the implications. Sure, Creus had also been thrown in the middle of the same sh*t-storm as himself, but as far as Zakhar was concerned a mutual goal was not enough to make them true allies. The wizard was just as likely to throw him in front of a monster if the circumstances called for it as to save him. Zakhar had seen nothing in Creus to suggest the mage actually gave a crap about any of them, except the wolf, unless it got him closer to finishing the mission. But then again, Zakhar was self aware enough to know that, as they stood right now, if some monster killed the mage he’d not lose any sleep over it. Allies died, friends died, h*ll family died. It was how things went and if he allowed death to hurt him there’d not be much left of Zakhar at the end of the day. Did that make him heartless? Maybe. A bit. But there were those left alive to think of.

At Creus’ offer, Zakhar noted that the words seemed to have to be pulled from the mage. As if he truly wasn’t sure healing Kuro was worth his magic. He ignored the offer made to him, because there was no way he was going to allow magic to be used on him. Not by a wizard who he didn’t trust. Kuro, however, was turning out to be likely the most versatile member of their little trio and thus the most powerful. Zakhar hoped he’d take the offer because they needed the dragon to be at his best going forward. Plus, Kuro was the most likable of them so far, so maybe he’d be able to thaw Creus’ icy heart as time went on. Luckily for Zakhar, even Creus’ temperament was nothing compared to some of the people he’d worked with. Anyone who’d spent more than an hour in Luca’s presence wished for a bullet to the skull to put them out of their misery. He could deal with the mage to get back home. Amused by that though, Zakhar smirked to himself and moved away from them and towards where he’d last seen Thiago.

At least he wasn’t the most useless of their small group, Zakhar inwardly mused. Sure, he was only a human who’d need to utilize all his skills to even attempt to keep up with a wizard and a dragon, but at least he knew his way around a fight both on and off the battlefield. Thiago, however, needed some work. If their guide froze or acted irrationally everytime monsters were involved they’d have to protect him and that meant risking themselves. “Thiago!” He whisper-yelled into the small, dingy alleyway he’d last seen the black tail disappear into. “Their all dead man, you can come out.” Nothing happened and for a moment Zakhar thought he might have to find and scruff the beastman to drag him out. A shadow suddenly moved from the back and Thiago’s luminescent golden eyes shined from the gloom as he approached slowly. For an uncomfortable second Thiago’s eyes looked a whole lot like Zakhar’s monster. Odd. He thought, vexed.

“You okay?” He asked the beastman, stepping back as Thiago poked his strangely shaped face and and peered around cautiously. There was no blood, but Thiago was shaking almost violently. “Hey, your fine. We got ‘em all.” Thiago turned to look at him, eyes taking up most of his pale face and he flinched.

“Those were nothing like what is coming. Do you understand? These are scouts, the weakest of what is inside that storm.” The words had the desired effect of making Zakhar shift uncomfortably. He was bruised and bleeding slightly, Creus was possibly down on magic (he needed to figure out how that worked), and Kuro had a chunk taken out of him and these were only scouts.

“When we get back, we need you to explain to us what all you know, Thiago. Because I feel like you’re hiding something.” Zakhar bit the words out harshly, reaching forward to grab the beastman shoulder in a firm grip. Not enough to hurt, but enough he knew Zakhar was being serious. “If it can help us at all, don’t you think you owe it to us, to the people of this world, to tell?” Thiago closed his eyes tightly, and Zakhar was startled to see tears forming on the beastman eyelashes.

“I don’t owe it to you, to the idiot people, but I do owe it to them.” For the first time Thiago’s soft voice was strong, anger and something else lacing it. Good, let him get angry. It’ll keep him motivated. Zakhar nodded, letting Thiago go as he stepped back. The shaking had mostly stopped, but the beastman’s hands still trembled. Unwilling to comment on it, Zakhar simply nodded and gestured towards the others. The blacksmith’s voice cut their conversation short, and Zakhar glared at the big man with a sneer. “It would not be wise to garner his ire.”

“Yeah, well I you’ll learn quick poking a sleeping bear is one of my favorite hobbies.” Zakhar bypassed Thiago on his way to the shop, not noticing the beastman’s confused look at the strange sentence before Thiago trotted after him.

Inside the blacksmith’s shop, Zakhar ignored the heavier swords and melee weapons in favor of the throwing knives once more. Looking them over, he remembered the precision of the one he’d thrown earlier and picked out tle="five more" target="_blank">five more like it. Though small, they were well made and balanced; and as close to a gun as he was going to get in this wasteland. Grunting in disgust at the predicament he’d been thrown into, Zakhar bent down to sift through the holsters in the crate underneath. The black leather arm ones worked well enough for him, and were thick enough to offer some protection as well as house the knives for easy removal. Reaching for his own knife, which had luckily made the dimensional jump with him, Zakhar breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a gift from his eldest brother, Mikhail, who’d also taught him how to use it.

The tle="shaitan knife" target="_blank">shaitan knife was a good weapon during a close combat fight, in particular where speed and precision would be the determining factor to who’d win. It was also a good throwing knife; though quite a bit bigger than the six he’d picked from the smithy. Knowing he’d have no idea how to wield any of the other weapons in the shop, Zakhar turned and was about to leave when something caught his eye. Sitting on a high shelf was a tle="short sword" target="_blank">short sword, much like the one he’d used to kill the monster. He didn’t know exactly how to fight with one, but that did not mean he could not learn or use it as he’d already done. Grumbling to himself he picked it, along with a hip holster for it, up before stalking out. If the blacksmith thought he’d taken too much, well then Zakhar would happily turn his irritation on him.

The ferret creature on his shoulder lifted itself to brace it’s fore paws on his upper arm to peer around curiously. It’s oddly blue nose twitched as it’s beady red eyes scanned the mess of the street. “Not much here left, eh?” He mused, reaching up carefully to scratch the top of it’s head. It trilled and tilted its head into his hand like a cat would. “You’re not normal.” Walking deeper into the town, Zakhar avoided anyone who looked either p*ssed or overly curious towards him. He’d managed to buy cordage, flint and steel, an extra canteen (he could still remember the disastrous trip through the backwoods of Ukraine), and a small medical kit. He needed to ask exactly where they’d be sleeping, because as far as he was concerned without proper rest after some days they’d not be at their best; which could prove to be fatal. A bedroll would be bulky to take, unless he could talk the serpent into carrying things, but would mean he’d not freeze and be sort of comfortable. Whistling, Zakhar poked his nose into a couple more shops and stalls before finding what he was looking for.

It was a decent sized shop lined with fabrics of all sorts woven and made into different items. It smelled like animal but appeared clean enough. After glancing through a couple of items and rummaging through the multitude of colored fabrics, he jumped as someone delicately cleared their throat. Looking over his shoulder, he nodded at the young woman who’d approached. She was tall, tanned from the sun, and obviously lived a life of labor. Honey colored eyes looked over him as he’d done to her. “Is there something in particular you are looking for?” She asked, unknown accent thick. Zakhar smiled ruefully and motioned around the shop.

“Actually, I was hoping you had a sleeping bag, or bedroll I suppose you could call it. And a lightweight blanket.” Zakhar answered, shrugging. “Apparently I’ve got a long journey ahead and I’m a creature of comforts and pleasures. Sleeping on rocks is not my preferred arrangements ” She chuckled and started towards the opposite side of the store. Pausing, she looked back at him with a small grin and flicked her fingers for him to follow. Humming curiously, Zakhar followed and noted her thick, wavy chestnut hair was tinged with blonde. Pretty. He thought absently, pushing the ferrets nose away from his ear as it breathed into it.

“My family have been weavers for many generations. We have some of the finest materials in this kingdom.” She spoke from ahead, where she’d stopped to rummage through a large, wooden chest. Pulling out rectangle of heavy canvas with brass eyelets at the corners and edges, she examined it before setting it atop the counter. Reaching for it, Zakhar rang his fingers along the canvas and was surprised to find it had a coat of something on it that made it appear rubberized. At least it was waterproof. Rolled up as it was, it wasn’t large enough to be cumbersome to carry around either. “When you unroll it there’s another, wool blanket inside. It’s not the most comfortable, but you’ll be dry and warm.” She promised. Next she brought out a smaller, more intricately patterned piece of fabric that was extremely soft to the touch and lightweight. “These are very versatile. You can use it as a blanket, a pillow, a shemagh or headdress to keep the sun or sand off, as well as other things.” Holding it out to him, Zakhar ran it through his fingers and was surprised at the texture.

“It’s beautiful, but unfortunately your king hasn’t exactly given us a whole lot of extra money.” Trying to give it back, the woman simply laughed and shoved it back at him with a bright smile.

“No, no! I know exactly who you are and what you’re going to do. For that we require no payment for these things.” Surprised, Zakhar blinked owlishly at her and inwardly groaned. All his life he’d been the bad guy, his family the boogeymen. People ran from him, or tried to kill him depending. They didn’t look at his like he was their d*mned savior! Zakhar looked away from her bright eyes and back down at the cloth still in his calloused hands. Hands that were stained with so much blood, some of it innocent. This feeling, of being counted on for something, didn’t sit well. He’d always done his job because it was expected, because he wanted to make his father proud. Not because people needed him to do it. He wasn’t a hero! Clearing, he throat, he reached for the bedroll to give him something to do while he contemplated.

Zakhar didn’t have much money and he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth; he wasn’t that decent a human being. However, he did know how to make people feel good about themselves. Turning back to the woman, he let his posture relax into almost a lazy, disarming slouch and shot her a charming, boyish grin. “I can’t thank you enough for such kindness. It’s the first I’ve experienced since coming here.” Tilting his head to the side, he leaned against the counter and placed both hands against it so she could tell he had no intention of reaching for a weapon or her. “What’s your name? So at least I’ll know someone friendly from this land.” She appeared startled by his question, a light dusting of red along her freckled cheeks. Adorable.

“Willow,” She murmured.

“We pronounce that ‘iva’ in my mother tongue. Pretty.” Giving a put upon sigh, Zakhar turned towards the shops door. “Unfortunately, the others are going to be waiting if I stay any longer.” Grabbing the bedroll and blanket, he shouldered the bedroll carefully so he didn’t hit his ferret ‘thing’ and gave Willow and dip of his head and another teasing look before starting for the door. Once there, he paused and turned towards the shop again, one hand on the door knob. “Thank you again for everything ‘Iva’, I hope we’ll be what you’re expecting.” What he wasn’t expecting was for her to move forward and plant a light kiss to his lips before blushing brightly and stammering out a ‘for luck’ before skittering off towards the back of the store and out of sight. “Not bad for my first solo outing in this world.” He told his passenger, unsurprised to see it simply washing its paws. “Your hopeless.” Zakhar told it, starting back towards the front of the city. He stopped a few more places to pick up food and other essentials before heading towards the front gates.

Of course nothing was that simple and before he could reach his destination an old lady, stopped him by planting her walking stick into his stomach. Grunting in surprise mixed with pain, because of course she’d hit right over where he’d taken the hit from the monster, Zakhar stared her down in surprise. “The hell, lady.” He snarked, stepping back as she eyeballed him like one might a naughty child. Or a particularly unruly dog. She pointed towards his companion, who’d been jolted from it’s staring at passerby’s by the sudden halt.

“You’ve got a Farxal, there. Surprising, since they don’t tend to like many people.” Pausing, she eyed him as if he’d done something heinous to the little creature to make it stay where it was. “He’ll be a good companion on your journey.” Zakhar mentally sighed in agitation. He knew he looked different than anyone else there, but did everyone know who he was? “Loyal, with a poisoned bite that can melt flesh from bone and quills just as deadly.” She gave a gap-toothed grin and clucked her tongue at the ‘farxal’.

“How do you know it’s a boy?” He asked, because there was no way he was going to check. And lovely, it’s bite was as bad as it’s poisoned quills. He’d need to remember to feed it. “And what do they eat?” Was there a book, maybe? The Care and Feeding of Your Deadly Farxal? The old crone giggled and waved him off.

“It’s grey and blue, so a male. Female are only only grey. Take care of him, and he’ll take care you you.” She turned and limped away into the crowd, leaving Zakhar staring after her wearily and wondering if she was a bit nuts. Looking towards his new companion, Zakhar wondered if it was as smart as a dog or if it was going to be as hard headed as a cat.

“She didn’t answer my food question. You decide to take a chunk out of something, there’s a huge snake who could use a bite.” Rolling his eyes, he tucked his shoulders in a bit more and pushed through the crowds until he spotted the entrance as well as Thiago and Kuro. The beastman had a pack slung over his shoulder and appeared to be trying to melt into the shadows. Approaching, he kept quiet as he leaned against the entrance wall and yawned.

With his shoulder leaning against the city’s outer wall, bought items at his feet, Zakhar glanced to where Creus was approaching before returning his attention to the few people who’d either stopped to gawk or glare. The mage appeared the same as when he’d left, tense and churlish, but still in one piece. With his surly disposition Zakhar wondered how the wizard had managed with the townsfolk; or if he’d simply glared them into submission. Amused by the mental image his thought produced, Zakhar pushed off the wall and was about to start out of the city when Kuro dropped from the tree he’d been about to walk under. Skidding to a surprised halt, he looked from the dragon shifter, to up the tree, then back with a raised brow. Then he realized he’d been asked a question.

“If by good you mean getting a good luck kiss from a pretty lady, then yes. Very good things happened.” Smirking a bit, Zakhar noticed a distinctive lack of items on or near Kuro. “You like sleeping on the ground or something?” He asked, curious but also a little worried. “I doubt we’re going to find many beds where we’re going.” Looking towards Creus, he wondered if the mage had anything to add, but he was silent as usual. Rolling his eyes, Zakhar silently wondered if the guy was mentally plotting the best way to be rid of them when he was quiet and distant. “Eh, guess worse comes to worse you can either cuddle with your beasty or share with one of us if it gets too cold.”

Noticing in his peripherals Creus leaving, Zakhar rolled his eyes hard enough to hurt and re-shouldered his items. “This guy’s going to be fun come these next couple of weeks,” he muttered, scoffing. Thiago had already hurried after the mage, which didn’t surprise Zakhar, but he kept his distance a bit. Reaching up to scratch the farxal’s chin, the hairs on the back of his neck rose when he took note of the man behind them. There was the possibility he was just taking the same path, but after a few minutes of subtly watching the stranger by petting the ferret beast Zakhar was sure he was tailing them. Badly. In a way it was insulting. Zakhar knew how to stalk people, had done it multiple times, and the guy behind them was terribly bad at it. If that was one of us, otets (*father*) would beat our a**ses. Unable to hide a wince at the thought, because Andon’s fury at failure was legendary among him and his brothers, Zakhar wondered if either of the others noticed.

Then Creus steered them onto a small deer path and Zakhar breathed a sigh of relief. Creus might be a stoic jerk, but at least he was smart. Turning as well, the dagger and shabby clothing didn’t appear to threatening unless they’d somehow inadvertently given him some information. “Maybe he was just a thief hoping to get lucky?” Muttering sarcastically, Zakhar’s dark gaze fell onto Thiago, who was shifting uncomfortably back and forth on his contorted feet. About to question the beastman, Creus spoke up before he could.

Taking in the information Zakhar rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then twitched as the farxal moved enough that’s it’s whiskers brushed his ear. He scratched the irritated area, while trying to regain his train of thought. “Anyone outside of the given law is bad news, but it also depends on what kind of training they have as well as who’s leading as to whether their truly dangerous. And numbers, but frankly brains tend to trump brawn.” Pausing, he moved to lean against the nearest tree to take some of his weight off his left leg to offer his bruised hip and side some relief. “Though, if what they said is actually true and they were strong enough to make the bloody king stop the sacrifices then maybe we shouldn’t dismiss it entirely. Better safe than sorry. You got anything to add Thiago?” He asked, voice darkening a bit as he addressed their guide. Something bugged him still about the beastman, who was looking at him with wide, scared golden eyes.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Thiago

Like a whipped dog, Thiago followed after the mage, who was turning out to be the most level headed and leader-like one of the group, and felt a wave of relief to be finally leaving the accursed city. He knew he was completely useless in the fight against the monsters and guilt at the knowledge one of the supposed heroes, the human and weakest of them in fact, had to be the one to save him was enough to drown him. But seeing those creatures again, this time in the light of day, had brought the memories back like a rush of lightning. All consuming. The screams and blood, the burning pain as he was bitten, then the agony as his body fought against itself, twisted and reshaped. He’d seen them, heard them, and panicked.

Pointed ears flattening in embarrassment, Thiago made sure to keep his shoulders hunched and head down as he followed behind Creus. When they suddenly walked off the path, he blinked in confusion and looked around to see what had caused it. The mage and the human were both looking the way they’d come, stony faced as a man who Thiago hadn’t paid any attention too swiftly walked off. Odd. Head tiling to the side, Thiago backed away a few paces as Creus spoke; telling them about the conversation he’d overheard. Brows scrunching, Thiago’s tail twitched as remembered the stories the servants of soldiers told about rebels. He’d been more worried about the king and what he’d do than what he’d presumed to be court gossip at the time.

Zakhar’s use of his name in a foreboding tone sent shivers of unease up his spine. The human was looking at him suspiciously, mouth pulled tight in a thin, displeased line. Zakhar had looked at him the same way just after he’ killed the monster, like he was putting pieces Thiago didn’t want to answer together. And that those answers might just put Zakhar on the offensive. Thiago was beginning to wonder if, though nothing but a human, Zakhar was the one who’d spilled the most blood and who’d happily slaughter for more. The way he fought, talked, acted: it put Thiago on edge. Stepping back and towards Creus, who he hoped knew Thiago was useful, the beastman gulped.

“I can only add what I have heard from servants and soldiers. They talk when no one is listening. From what I understand, there is a good possibility that what you heard it true. There is a rebel cause that has formed to take on the Storm, and the king, to aid the people of this land. I do not know how violent they are, however, nor how powerful they truly are. But yes, I do think you should be careful.” Blowing out a breath, he suddenly wished he was more useful in the knowledge he could give. “I have heard that there is a chance some soldiers have joined, though those might be just rumors. They could just be deserters. But if soldiers are among the rebels then they will be quite powerful.”