Two travelers – an elf in white-golden armor, and an old man cloaked in red – walk silently through a dark and deep forest... somewhere in Eriador.
"Master Seareon... This place makes me uneasy, do you feel it?" Daltor Hellebore spoke into the cold silence.
The elf threw a wary look around the forest, "Yes, there is a certain something. I can't place it."
"I've heard rumors that we may find a particularly useful but unassuming resource in these woods ...Black Mushrooms."
Seareon half-turned to peer at the old man, "Oh."
Daltor peered through the dark. "I don't see any... we'll have to head deeper inside," he said, starting his walk again.
"Why we need them, I know not… but yes, let’s find some and be on our way," Seareon replied.
"They are particularly delicious," Daltor then said.
"..." Seareon took a moment to reply as he walked with the man. They didn't come all the way out here for some good tasting food, did they? "Well the sooner we find them, the better…"
"Ah yes... they can also be used to make a potent poison that was used by the ancients to coat their blades."
"Ah," was all Seareon said.
"And a fine black dye, yes indeed," Daltor said a moment later.
"...Very important that we find them then."
"Furthermore, the purpose for which I have come for: I need them to complete an elixir I've nearly completed," Daltor continued as he peered into the dark distance as he took a stop again.
Seareon took a stop with him, "Elixir for what purpose, may I ask?"
"Well... originally it was a love potion," Daltor said, "But it ended up becoming a sleeping one."
"Oh."
"I am attempting to increase its potency...'
The elf tilted a brow, "Interesting. The more.. the better." Seareon then peered into the thick mist coming their way, "I hope this is only natural..."
"I would wager so. Though it is rather dense," the old man said back.
Seareon stayed silent for a few moments, taking another long look around in all directions.
"Let’s go another way," Daltor said.
"Hm, yes."
Daltor darted his head around and slowed his walk as a ghostly wail suddenly carried in the wind.
Seareon just continued on as the sound was heard. He soon came to a bunch of thick thorn bushes, and looked hard towards the ground, searching for these black mushrooms. "We may not find them out in the open."
From somewhere nearby.. a faint growl-half-snort was heard.
"Is that some wild beast come to tear us limb from limb?" Daltor spit out.
Seareon swiveled his head towards the left, stepping back from the thorns a moment later. "Oh Daltor, I'm sure it is."
Daltor raised a brow, "Are you certain?"
Seareon didn't respond to that question, but instead nodded towards something behind Daltor, "I may have found something."
Daltor peered over his shoulder before fully turning around.
"Ruins of an old house.. but, not only that," Seareon whispered.
Daltor was a little relieved to see nothing much at first. Then he fully turned around and looked closer. "...Is that a man?"
"Indeed."
Daltor frowned, scratching his long, gray beard, "Many hours from civilization.."
Seareon took a few steps forward, narrowing his eyes at the figure lying down in the middle of an old, ruined house. "Stay quiet."
Daltor creeped along slowly behind the elf.
"He's.. alive," Seareon spoke quietly.
Fulton suddenly turned over, his head now towards the two. The old man at least would perhaps not tell if he was awake or not.
"What do your elven eyes see?" Daltor whispered.
"His eyes ar–"
A genuine snore interrupted the elf.
Seareon raised both brows, "Well.... That might have been what we heard a moment ago." The elf was still whispering.
"Go see if he needs help," Daltor insisted.
Seareon turned to the old man, "Why master, a man like this out here? You never know what traps lie in wait." He looked around, listening intently.
"...I shall watch your back.. from here," Daltor promised, waving a hand towards the sleeping man, telling the elf to go.
"Well, might as well." Seareon started walking, slowly and silently... still listening. It was rather unlikely for there to be some kind of trap, at least intended for them. Then again, it was already unlikely for the two of them to find a man asleep and snoring in a place like this...
Daltor leaned on his staff, not really providing much protection whatsoever.
Seareon reached the figure, and just stood there as the seconds rolled by.
Daltor hummed quietly to himself, looking around the dark woods once more.
Seareon watched the man.. his breathing pattern and everything. He was very well asleep. Or just good at faking it.
Daltor creeped closer now....
There was then a slight change in the pattern, Seareon sensed. The breathing slowed just noticeably. And immediately, the elf jumped back two steps, quiet on his feet. But a trained ear would notice it.. as well as Daltor's humming of course, if he was still doing that.
Daltor had stopped humming as he approached, eyeing the man on the ground.
Seareon watched the man's face closely, noticing an eye slide open just barely a moment later.
Seareon stepped back again, now standing with Daltor. He threw the old man an amusing face.
"Morning...?" Daltor.. greeted.
Fulton opened his eyes fully and suddenly, ready for foes – but he saw who it was, and stayed still, just staring at them with his sleep-sticky eyes. "No, I believe it's still dark, actually... technically," he decided to say.
"Well... it is unnaturally dark here," the old man said back.
Fulton took a short pause. "Nah, I'm pretty sure it's just dark."
"I think I can tell where the sun is. Good sir," Daltor argued.
Fulton turned flat on his back, staring up into the sky. It was definitely dark. A moment later he started to get up, grunting a little as he did so. He patted his side pockets while looking down at the ground around him. Not too long after, he turned his attention back to the two. His expression was calm and neutral, though a quarter of it was hidden by a hood.
However, on the inside, he was no doubt rather surprised by the weirdness of it all, Seareon thought... or just amused, as was he.
"Indeed," Fulton ended up saying.
Seareon continued to stand there as he let master Hellebore do the talking. The faintest smirk tugged at his lips.
"We simply must inquire what you are doing out here on your lonesome.. so far from the towns," Daltor said.
Fulton seemed to ignore them, turning around again and leaning down to lift a small, fragile board up from the ground, revealing a pack of sorts. He picked it up and finally said, "Say... you haven't happened to stumble upon some.. black looking mushrooms, have you?"
"Err... Why would you be looking for something of that sort?" the old man inquired.
"Well," Fulton answered, "that's a story that nobody would have the time to hear."
Daltor glanced at the elf...
The older man returned his gaze as Seareon glanced at Daltor...
"...We've not seen such mushrooms, no," Daltor told him.
The hooded man rubbed his thin beard, "Pity." And just as he said that, the strange man started on his way, walking past the two without another word. He walked until he eventually disappeared into the same foggy area the two would not dare enter.
".....Search the ruins for anything he left behind, then we track him," Daltor said, his voice calm and quiet.
"You don't get much more odd and mysterious than that," Seareon found himself saying.
Daltor looked through the rubble near where the man was laying. "Mm.. swiftly now, your eyes are purer than mine."
