Path of the Psion Chapter 1 WIP

Chapter One

　　The southern forests of Ainwae tended to be chilly year round, and especially now as fall was at it’s peak. Tall evergreens spanned the vast, rocky seaside and worn dirt roads cut paths through the forests. It was on one of these roads, leading to the coastal city of Haemfistead, that Swift Everflow found himself traveling.
　　One of the fantastic things nowadays in Ainwae is how the majority of the races now coexisted under the flag of the Bannered Five- a coalition of Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Orcs, and Beastfolk. Swift was one of these Beastfolk, a cat to be precise. His dark, earthy fur stood in stark contrast to his pale straw-colored hair, and his eyes glinted with a dark, stormy grey.
　　Swift continued on his trek, a walking stick in hand and a dark green cloak about his shoulders. The trees loomed high above him, casting shadows on the worn path. It was easy to get lost in one’s thoughts on such an uneventful walk, the cool breeze and the chirping of birds sending one’s mind at ease. Swift took in a lungful of the crips, autumn air, savoring the quiet peacefulness. It was then in the distance he noticed the sound of jingling reigns, and Swift twitched his tufted ears at the disturbance.
　　Ahead of him, another road converged onto the one he was walking, and Swift noticed a large wooden cart pulled by a pair of dwarvish oxen, stacked to the brim with tarp covered crates and boxes. It was nearing the afternoon, and Swift had been walking almost all day- a ride would be most welcome. He broke into a sprint, calling at the driver.
　　“Hey- hey! Excuse me!”
　　With a loud “Woah!” the dwarf driving the cart stopped his beasts, turning his stout body around to see the cat-boy bounding towards him. As Swift stopped by the cart, he bent down to catch his breath.
　　“I don’t... I don’t suppose you’re heading to Haemfistead, are you sir?”
　　The dwarf nodded, his auburn locks of hair rustling in the breeze, “Aye, that’d be true enough. You looking for a ride, boy?”
　　Swift nodded eagerly, “Yes sir- I’ve been traveling nearly a month now, I’d really appreciate it.”
　　The dwarf chuckled, “Ah, to be young and full of adventure- alright, hop aboard. Not in the back, mind you; can’t go trustin’ strangers with my wares.”
　　Swift nodded understandingly, before climbing up to the seat beside the dwarf at the front of the cart. The dwarf smacked the reigns again, and the oxen lumbered forward. Swift lowered the hood of his cloak, shaking his short ponytail free of it’s folds. He awkwardly fiddled with his staff before opting to haphazardly stick it in the behind him in the cart. The dwarf caught a glimpse of his antics and snorted a single laugh.
　　“So, what’s your name, boy?”
　　Swift turned to the dwarf, blinking once before replying, “Oh- my name’s Swift. Swift Everflow.”
　　The dwarf extended a hand, “Pleasure to meet you, the name’s Tarish, of clan Degrut.”
　　Swift hesitantly met Tarish’s handshake, and nearly had his paw crushed in the dwarf’s vice-like grip. Tarish laughed heartily as Swift nursed his hand.
　　“Not been used to many dwarven handshakes have you, eh boy?” he said, earning a frown from Swift, but Tarish continued nonetheless, “So, what’s your business with Haemfistead? Schooling, pilgrimage,” he cast a quick look back to his wares in the cart, “Trade, perhaps?” he added hopefully.
　　Swift shook his head, “Afraid I don’t carry much coin on me, but you still got it right- I’m on a kind of pilgrimage. It’s kind of tradition for us who come from the people of the Herding Rock.”
　　Tarish nodded, “That’s a ways up north, in the plains- must’ve been quite the walk so far, eh?”
　　“You could say that,” Swift replied, “Though not many of us tend to head south first so late in the year. I guess I’m kind of a special case?”
　　“And why’d that be?” Tarish asked.
　　Swift cleared his throat, “Well, um- most would head north to the warmer sands of Grudarch or Arlis with winter on it’s way. But I figured Haemfistead was the place to go since I’m, well... A Psion.”
　　Tarish raised a singular, hairy eyebrow, “You’re a Psion? Didn’t know many of your people were born with that gift.”
　　“Well I mean, it’s not exactly common to begin with, right?” Swift replied. Tarish nodded with a hum.
　　“True enough, I’d reckon. So- you found out you were psionic and decided to get a head start on your journey by going to the hometown of the first one, eh?”
　　“That about sums it up,” Swift laughed a bit, “You know, it’s funny- I was actually training to learn magic when I found out. Kind of ironic, since Psion’s can’t use magic- but you should’ve seen the look on my tutor’s face when I nearly flung him out a window trying to cast a Spark.”
　　Tarish barked laughter at Swift’s little story, wiping away a tear, “By the Three, boy- out a window? Ha! You’ve got some cheek on ya!”
　　The two travelers continued on the forest path, exchanging stories and other chit-chat. Swift learned that Tarish’s family had been in the merchant business since before even the Chaos War, which Tarish’s father had fought in over four hundred years ago. Swift had asked if Tarish’s father had ever met the first Psion in the war, which Tarish replied no.
　　After about an hour of travel, Swift noticed the trees beginning to thin, and in the distance the sun shone upon an open field.
　　“Ah, there she is- the open road! We’ll be out of this forest before you know it!” Tarish said, “Oh I do miss traveling with friends- all this talkin’ makes the hours pass much faster. That, and people tend to give you odd looks when you start using your oxen as conversational companions.”
　　Swift chuckled, inwardly remembering a rather laconic Minotaur he met at an inn during his travels. Perhaps bovines in general just weren’t much for talking as a whole. Swift was about to respond with such, but a snap in the forest stopped him. He sat up straighter, ears swiveling to try and find the sound again-
　　Snap
　　The sound of wood breaking underfoot- much too heavy to be a deer. Somewhere ahead of them in the forest. Tarish noticed his companion becoming unusually quiet.
　　“What’s the matter, boy? Cat got your-”
　　Swift put a finger to his lips, shushing the dwarf, “I don’t think we’re alo-”
　　Rider’s on horses suddenly burst out of the tree line- clad in black and leather, there were at least a half-dozen of them. The oxen stopped, mooing in distress as the riders quickly circled around them. Swift guessed by their short stature that the majority of them were goblins, the shifty cousins to the orcs. One rider, presumably human and most likely the leader of these bandits, stopped his mount right at the head of the travelers.
　　“If you’re after my coin, sir, I’ll have to warn you I won’t come quiet.” Tarish said, before the rider could speak up. The man snorted.
　　“You have a lot of salt, old man. But we’re not after your gold- we know you have something much more valuable in the back of your caravan.”
　　Tarish’s stony features hardened, as he narrowed his eyes at the bandit, “I can’t rightfully say I know what you’re speaking of, boy.” He spat the last word out; if the arrogant rider was going to bring age into this he might as well know his place.
　　“Oh but I’m quite sure you do- the markings of your clan give it all away, and my employer has done his research. Too bad for you, sir Degrut.”
　　Tarish gritted his teeth, and Swift’s eyes darted between the two speakers. What had he just gotten himself in the middle of? A pair of the mounted goblins situated themselves to either side of the cart, crossbows leveled at it’s passengers.
　　“Now, dwarf,” the rider said, “Either you hand it over quietly and you can get on your merry way,” the goblins cocked their crossbows, “Or I’ll be forced to get ugly.”
　　Tarish snorted, “Well, judging by that cowl you and your... Associates are wearing, seems it’s a bit too late for that.”
　　Without a pause, Tarish flung himself from the cart, tackling the rider off his horse. Swift caught a glimpse of metal in his hand- a maul of some sort? Taking that as a sign that negotiations had failed, the two goblins released their bolts at the remaining cart passenger. Swift ducked as soon as Tarish exited the cart, and the goblin’s bolts hit eachother square in the chest, knocking them off their horses with a loud “Oof!”
　　Swift stuck his head back up, ,the pandemonium of the situation growing. The leader’s horse panicked as it’s rider was tackled off of it by a flying dwarf, kicking and smashing one of the oxen’s supports. Swift leaped from the cart as the bovine started wrecking the cart as well. With a fling of his hands, Swift’s eyes glowed a bright teal as his staff rocketed out of the cart and into his hands.
　　He spun it around, and right as another rider was charging him he swung it forward. A bright wave of teal energy erupted from the swing, knocking the rider off his horse- winded, but not injured too badly.
　　“Gods damned psion!” one of the goblins cried, yanking a bolt out of his chest armor. He drew a knife, sprinting towards Swift with a slice. Swift jumped back, weaving out of the blade’s way with cat-like agility. His eyes flashed again, and the knife was yanked right out of the goblin’s hand. Taking the opportunity of the brief confusion, Swift landed a solid kick to the goblin’s head, knocking the short green skinned terror out cold.
　　Running back into the fray, Swift saw as Tarish and the rider locked themselves into combat. Tarish swung his heavy maul, nearly catching the rider in the leg but he was too fast. The rider had managed to take out a pair of hatchets, and prepared to hack away at the stout warrior. Swift pulled his hand down, psychically doing the same to the rider’s hood making him stumble. Tarish took the distraction as an opportunity to headbutt the rider’s groin.
　　Swift turned around, seeing two remaining riders coming to their leader’s aid, crossbows at the ready. Swift leveled his staff at one of the riders, tendrils of teal energy pulsing at the tip. After a second of charging, the ball of energy spat forward, decking the rider right in the face and off his horse. However, Swift was not fast enough to hit both. As he turned to take on the other fast approaching rider, the mounted man shot his bolts.
　　They wizzed through the air, right over Swift’s head. He turned just in time to see them pierce Tarish right in the back. He cried out once, then fell over onto his side in pain. His hand scrambled across his back to pull them out, but he could not reach. Swift stood in shock for a moment, before lashing out at the last rider and yanking him off his horse with psionics. The now riderless horse sped past the leader of the riders, who now yanked off his cowl. His short hair shone platinum through the speckled lighting of the forest, and he had rage in his eyes.
　　The rider’s leader strode over to the downed dwarf, a cruel grin full of malice twisting his face. He reared a single foot back, and kicked Tarish’s face in, before spitting on him.
　　“Fool of a dwarf,” He said, before turning now to Swift. Swift’s fur stood up on end, bristling under his drab yellow tunic. He widened his stance, and pointed his staff at the advancing man.
　　“You’re not taking another step towards this cart!” Swift shouted, and the man stopped for a moment, before letting out a disbelieving snort.
　　“Step aside you stupid cat,” He said, lunging and grabbing ahold of Swift’s staff before he had a chance to fire off any of his powers. With a twist, he cracked the other end of the staff on Swift’s chin, then back-handed him with the base of one of his hatchets, sending Swift sprawling to the ground.
　　Swift’s eyes sparked and fizzled with his teal aura, unable to fully manifest from the blow to his head, and all he could manage to do was watch helplessly from under the boot of the rider as he tore off the cart’s tarp and rummaged. It did not take him long to find what he was looking for- a small, slender box, intricately carved with wandering swirls.
　　The rider grinned once more with his malicious smile, turning to look at the downed psion.
　　“Any other day I would certainly love to go through the rest of your nine lives, cat, but unfortunately I’m on the clock,” he took a step, walking on top of Swift and forcing the wind out of him, “Still, can’t have you following me, so,” he took another step, this time crunching down on Swift’s tail. He howled and hissed in pain, and the rider continued to dig his heel in until Swift passed out from the pain. The rider chuckled once more.
　　“Teach you to mess with Aric the Feller,” He muttered, before walking back to one of the horses that stuck around. Shoving off the goblin attempting to get back on, he swung his leg up and over, and yanked on the reigns.
　　“Alright people, let’s move! Chop chop!”
　　The goblins, lacking any serious casualties, clambered onto the remaining mounts, some two to a horse, before riding off with their leader Aric at the front.
　　Nearly an hour passed, and Swift slowly regained consciousness. His head still ached, too much to call upon his powers. Blood dripped from the blow, blurring his vision. After a bit, Swift finally managed to get his bearings and stand up, leaning heavily on his staff. He spotted Tarish still on the ground, and hobbled over fast as he could.
　　The dwarf was still breathing, but the crossbow bolts were lodged deep in his back. Grunting with effort, Swift wrapped an arm around him and started dragging him.
　　Get to town... Find a doctor, he thought, starting the arduous treck as the sun started to dip towards the horizon.
　　“You’re going to be alright, Tarish. Everything’s gonna be alright.”