Descent ( Javel's Intro, OPEN )

The desolate woods that was known as the Spooky Forest was not a sight to behold. The cold dense marshes and rows of dead trees felt as if it stretched for eternity with no end in sight. It wouldn't be hard to understand how the place got its name. Any man with their reason intact would turn back upon setting their sights at such dreadful location. Unfortunately, Javel was not one of them.

The lone wanderer had lost track of time. How long has it been since he trekked into the forest? Hours? Days? Javel could not remember the length of his refuge in this dark wasteland; he could only remember the reason for coming here and it was not by his choice. And speaking of choice, he was not even sure himself if he even made the right call. The only thing that mattered most was that he wasn't being hunted...for now.

The longer he walked, the more the increasingly delirious Javel thought about how far he truly was from home. The young man felt his life flash back to how it was back then before forwarding to the present. He hated it. He hated every coming moment of the present. He never wanted this bitter journey in the first place and he cursed under his breath at how a foreigner like him could end up here. This place was the place of death, rejection, and isolation; fitting only for scum and vermin. A man who had done no wrong shouldn't be punished to flee and end up confined to such a dreadful place, and here he was, forced on the run from a crime he did not commit...

Javel could feel the fog around him thickening as time passed. Anyone in his situation would feel uneasy, uncertain, or even afraid. Javel, in his current state, could not care about the aesthetics of the hostile environment around him. Though tired and worn out from his previous encounters against the rune knights, he had every intention and making out of this place alive. This forest would not be his grave; he didn't make it this far only to die now...

Javel found himself on his last footsteps before his body give way into fatigue. He took a knee, struggling to keep himself from collapsing, his weapon serving as leverage to keep his balance. The exhausted mage looked at the dead leaves around him and pondered just what fate awaited him in the forest. The answer came seconds after.

The sound of soft footsteps trekking through the leaves caught the young mage's attention and he quickly looked up at what, or rather, who awaited him. In a desolate forest such as the one he was, the presence of another person was never a good sign. Though still delirious, it was just enough to bring the dark mage back into reality and he instinctively raised and pointed his weapon at whoever was in front of him. Was it a bandit? A monster? Or worst of all, the rune knights?

...it wasn't any of them...

...Javel honestly didn't know what to make of what he was seeing and for a second; hell, he could've sworn he was hallucinating. The appearance of a strange old man in butler-befitting clothing was not a sight to behold given the location they were in. It was even more unsettling by the fact that the elder man's expression was more inclined to that of surprise than hostility. His calm eyes met with Javel's and then he spoke.

"Oh my. They were right, you are indeed in quite the dire state."

Unnerving as it was, the young mage found himself unable to strike the old stranger and he reluctantly lowered his weapon. This was no hallucination; this was the real deal. And yet, he couldn't find the right words to reply to the stranger's concern.

The requip mage was at a lost when the butler-esque smiled at him at his relenting. Did this stranger truly mean no harm? What was the meaning behind this? What was the agenda that the old man had in mind?

There was no doubt that this land was familiar to stranger, otherwise Javel wouldn't be face to face with him given the circumstances. The mage had so many questions in his head and even more would arise when the stranger in one swift motion, tossed his leather sack in his direction without warning. Javel caught it easily, but was surprise by the stranger's act to do so. It was container; the stranger had brought water with him and spoke up, urging that he drink up to keep himself alive - for what the mage had yet to learn.

Javel uncapped the sack and slowly helped himself with it, quenching in small gulps. His dried lips savored it; he had forgotten that he had not drank in days. It was refreshing and Javel's senses finally came full circle from his exhaustion-induced delirium.

His mouth hydrated and his awareness coming back to him, Javel glanced at the now-empty leather sack in his hands. He then returned his gaze back to the old butler and spoke up. His voice sounded forbidding but there was a touch of gratitude in it as he asked him for his identity. "Who are you?"

Javel shook his head. "Yet I did."

The man's words weren't familiar to him. Being a foreigner on the run, the mage never had the time or patience to learn much about Fiore before smuggling himself into the country. But given the way the stranger was speaking, he reckoned that this forest was a sinister one and must've had a reputation for something truly dreadful. What made this place infamous was something he'd like to know aside from its unwelcoming atmosphere. Maybe this place could be what he was looking for, or at least point him to the right direction with the help of this stranger.

Since honesty was all he had, he said to him, "What if I told I wasn't from around here?"