[OOM: On the Road]

[mnt_raph]

It's less than a day's ride from the Designated Tortoise to Corus, so Abigail and Raph saddled up Cloud and a loaner horse by the name of Colin and set out after just after lunch. They crossed into the city proper just as the shadows began to lengthen announcing the approach of night. Raph, who had spent his first few years in Tortall doing odd jobs in and about the city, had more than a few favors at his disposal. The best barn was open to the horses, while their people dined on the best fare at the best table, and later slept in the best bed the inn had to offer. Pretty damn auspicious way to start an Adventure, if Raph says so himself.

The following morning all travellers awoke refreshed and prepared for anything the day had to offer, which apparently a whole lot given the beautiful weather and overall quiet of the countryside. The group had only been travelling for a few hours when they reached that point in the journey where pleasant conversation falls by the wayside leaving only silence in its wake. The silence wasn't welcome. Making conversation was the only thing keeping Raph's mind from focusing on the any number of things he'd rather not be thinking about. Foremost on that particular list is the paranoia that at any moment he's going to fall off Colin.

In the nearly ten years that he has spent on this side of the door, Raph has only successfully ridden on Cloud for any extended duration. Horses, you see, make him nervous. So nervous that the horses, sensing this apprehension, can do nothing but react in kind. More than one has been guilty of throwing him from the saddle, and as such Raph has stuck close to Cloud and Cloud alone as much as possible. Cloud was there though out his seemingly endless Kane-like wandering of Tortall, and there was no way Raph was going to repay the poor pony's loyalty by making his cart his sorry ass around on another long journey. It just wouldn't be fair. Which is why during the four day trek towards the Swoop it will be Abigail riding Cloud, what with her being so much lighter than the bald Shang warrior riding to her left.

So far so good though, right? Colin seems to be behaving in spite of Raph's white knuckled death grip on the reins.

Comments

[mnt_raph]

Raph was much more modest with his human body before he spent a year in a coma, and then another year in a wheel chair. It's kind of hard to maintain a puritan sense of modesty when you can't take care of your own basic needs.

Which explains why the fact that they're out in the open, by the side of a major roadway, being shielded only by the shade provided by the the small copse of trees doesn't appear to bother him all that much.

One could say they're out there in front of God and everyone, if one were to say such things.

[tortallan_npc]

Abigail might say it, then laugh about it, but she's entirely too occupied removing Raph's breeches. Truth is, she thinks she's rather lucky, too.

Superstitious Tortallan that she is, she should know better than to have such thoughts at a moment like this.

The breeches are kicked off, her skirts pushed out of the way, and she's kissing him again when something rips through the branches of a tree across the road; and laughs, the sound somehow grotesque.

[mnt_raph]

That...that is not a noise he has ever heard Abigail make before. And while Raph is very much enjoying the Afternoon Delight as it were, he's not so far lost in the moment that he's capable of making that sound himself and not realize it.

No...something is very very wrong.

[tortallan_npc]

The Stormwing gives another shrill laugh and hisses, "Filthy pigs." Flapping its sharp, metallic wings, it leers at them.

Abigail tears her mouth away, blinking owlishly at the creature. It's clearly a Stormwing, but having that knowledge and seeing it firsthand are very different things.

"Look who's talkin'."

Mouthing off is second nature for her, when presented with a threat.

[mnt_raph]

"if it ain't one thing..." Raph mutters into Abigail's shoulder before turning to address the monstrosity. "Goddess help you if I actually gotta stand up an' come over there. Beat it if you know what's good for you."

Raph's actual concern is hidden behind a rather solid wall of bluster. He doesn't know much about Stormwings, but he knows that they don't often travel solo, which means that there could be more of them not far away. Raph begins to scan the periphery looking for the horses and his saddle pack...just in case.

[tortallan_npc]

"The filthy pig is very pink," the Stormwing smirks, ignoring the threats and twisting its head to gawk at Raph's lower half.

He's smaller than most, which perhaps explains why he's alone -- and he is alone, for the moment. Still, he's dangerous and knows it; his razor-sharp grin makes that clear.

Abigail pushes at Raph, trying to get free, as anger creases her forehead.

"Go away!" she orders ill-advisedly.

The Stormwing shrieks its amusement and pulls its wings in, getting ready to dive.

[mnt_raph]

There's nothing like your lover arguing with a monster from divine realms to really put a kybosh on the ol' libido. Actually, if they had a better defensive position Raph might consider Abigail's behavior a turn on, but as they're out in the open with little cover...not so much.

"Keep low," he warns her as he moves, diving for his pack and the sword stowed there. The readjustment of his boxer as he does this is not in reaction to the comments made of his pinkness, but rather to aid his own mobility.

That's the story and we're sticking to it.

[tortallan_npc]

While she appreciates the warning, Abigail has no desire to stay where she is and present such an easy target. Once Raph is up and moving, she scrambles to her feet and makes for the horses, slipping and sliding along the way.

The sword Raph gave her is on Cloud's saddle. If she can just get there in time...

The Stormwing cackles and adjusts his dive to chase her.

[mnt_raph]

With sword in hand and his tunic rumpled revealing his white and red hearted boxers beneath, Raph looks more like a man woken from sleep by a prowler than a highly trained warrior poised for attack.

He yells and lunges at the Stormwing, bracing himself for impact.

[tortallan_npc]

Abigail looks back over her shoulder, catching her foot on Cloud's lead as she does so. The slip knot comes loose; she doesn't bother to fix it. Ducking behind the pony, she watches Raph (foolish, foolish man) slip into fighting mode. It's impressive, but the sword doesn't look like it's any match for those sharp feathers and teeth.

She draws her sword from the saddle but almost immediately begins looking around for their bow and arrows. She's not what anyone would call a good shot, but maybe she can do some good, buy Raph some time.

It's better than standing around uselessly.

Luckily, the Stormwing has no desire to kill them outright. He flaps his wings at Raph, taunting him, never letting the vulnerable skin of his head and neck near the blade.

[mnt_raph]

It pains Raph to think it, but what he wouldn't give for a Slayer right about now.
When his first few passes yield no tangible result, Raph holds his ground, lest his frustration get the better of him.

"Don't matter the size, or the armor, a chicken's still a chicken."

[tortallan_npc]

"A chicken?" it shrieks. "You're the beast, pink pig."

With that it slashes at Raph's chest with its wing.

Abigail, crouched on the ground where she'd just found the bow and quiver of arrows, gives a bloodcurdling yell and throws a rock at its head. Then she calls "Raph!" and tosses the bow and arrows at his feet.

He'll have a better shot. Plus, the Stormwing is likely to be distracted by the way she shouts, jumps up and runs for it, sword held over her head, bobbing with her stride.

[mnt_raph]

Raph can't help it, he laughs darkly as he feints back, attempting to deflect as much of the wing as he can with his sword. If he's cut, he doesn't feel it yet, there's too much mania behind his eyes for him to notice.

It's the conjunction of the rock from no where and hearing his own name that makes him aware of the weapon now at this feet. Someday soon Raph will have to teach Abigail the wonder of a well placed Hup!.

He ducks and dodges the stormwing's sudden change in target, grabbing for the bow, nocking the first arrow he snag, and taking aim.

"Bye bye, birdie," he grunts through clenched teeth as he lets the arrow fly.

[tortallan_npc]

The fierce image Abigail is trying so hard to cultivate comes apart when it looks like she might have succeeded in turning the creature's attention her way. She falters, then lowers the sword and hikes up her skirts to run toward Raph, trusting him-

(have to trust him, trust him, Goddess... shoot NOW)

-to deal with the thing.

He does. The Stormwing crashes to the ground, arrow in its chest, as she skids to a stop beside Raph. Breathing heavily, she points the edge of the sword at it; the gesture seems appropriate.

"Too late." The beast chokes out a laugh, spittle and blood flying from its cracked lips. "Too late."

Abigail shudders.

[mnt_raph]

Before taking a step closer to the fallen Stormwing, Raph picks up another arrow and takes aim.

"You could've walked on," he tells the dying creature. "Next someone gives you the option, take it."

He lets the arrow fly, this time with a head shot.
With that done, He turns his attention back to Abigail. "You a'right?"

[tortallan_npc]

Abigail stares at the corpse and lifts a hand to cover her nose and mouth. The smell is horrible.

"Aye," she says softly, nodding. Then she takes several steps backwards. "Are you?"

[mnt_raph]

"Yeah," he says before actually taking stock of himself. His efforts to block the metal wing were good, but not one hundred percent. "Great, just great."

There are superficial cuts on his leading forearm and slices in his tunic. The latter can be fixed with a few stitches, and the former shouldn't even require that much.

[tortallan_npc]

Her eyes race over him, landing on the cuts. She doesn't look worried; she looks mad.

"You hear tales, but..."

It isn't the same.

Frowning, she lets the sword fall to the ground and blinks at where Cloud used to be tethered.

[mnt_raph]

Raph looks up from his tunic when he hears the sword drop to the ground.

"Abs? What's up?

[tortallan_npc]

She waves a hand at him, as if to say it's all right, he can deal with the mess. Turning, she blows out a breath.

Cloud is behind them, munching on what remains of their meal, apparently.

"All's well enough," she tells Raph. "For a moment there I thought I lost your pony."

[mnt_raph]

Raph looks up and over, following her gaze. "Cloud? Lost? Nahh, it'd take more'n Foghorn over here to spook him. Ain't that right, buddy?"

Since when does the pony eat bread and cheese? Huh. Raph shakes the question away.

"We should probably burn the carcass sooner rather'n later," he mutters while trying to figure out the best way to snag a few feathers without the aid of pliers.

[tortallan_npc]

"D'you think it will?" she asks. "Burn?"

In the middle of retrieving Cloud, she turns a skeptical look on the metal wings.

"I'll just... see to our mess an' things."

She doesn't want to get any closer to that thing than is absolutely necessary.

[mnt_raph]

He blinks a few times, folding his arms across his chest.
"You know, to be honest? I ain't rightly sure. I mean, I didn't stick around to see how they got rid of'em last time."

Raph drops into a squat, picks up Abigail's dropped sword, and pokes at the Stormwing a few times out of pure morbid curiosity.

[tortallan_npc]

A small laugh, lacking in true humor, is her only response. Abigail busies herself with putting their belongings to rights, after moving Cloud back to his former spot.

Eventually everything is as it was when they arrived, packed neatly in their bags. Something seems to bother her about that and, hands on hips, she promptly pulls everything out again.

"Ah..." The worry lines around her mouth and forehead deepen. "What have you done with the map?"

[mnt_raph]

Raph stands, having decided that fire is out of the question. There's too great a chance of it burning out of control. No, he'll cut down a few limbs and cover the thing best he can. He leans forward and unceremoniously yanks out the arrows from the carcass.

"Sounds great," he says, a sure sign he wasn't listening.

Yeah, he should be able to strip some of the primary feathers off the wings if he uses both swords....