Garden Of The Abyss

A valley of white within the abyssal caverns; a harrowing sight to find, juxtaposing the scenery he had become accustomed to. The soil-like ground beneath his step was embedded with the shavings of the bone-oak, caking it in a layer of dry snow as this same substance floated in the air. There hadn\'t been any monsters to interrupt his path beside the giant--coming to the conclusion that this area was one definitely occupied by other people.

The path in front of him remained illuminated by the presence of the minuscule but plentiful bugs of light that filled the air, moving onward as he approached what was unmistakable a quarry.

A large pit sat beyond the towering ivory cedar, leading into an ashen pit full of flatland and occasional stone. There was an absence of light bugs here, but it was kept somewhat lit in the distance by a burning campfire.

He knew well that those in this group were without a doubt seasoned users of magecraft, leading to him suppressing his own mana and malice as he approached this beckoning fire.

"...Damn bear got me good."

It was a gruff voice, reaching Ren\'s ears quietly from the distance he was at. Approaching the fire slowly, he saw the men occupying the warmth around the flame--his eyes immediately set on the man in the center; without a doubt the source of the voice he had just heard.

Lengthy, titian hair kept within a ponytail yet still disheveled; he wore a thick, crimson cloak that seemed to be resting on top of chainmail, embroidered with the sigil of a lion across his right breast. Only one eye looked up at Ren, as the other had been veiled by an eyepatch of black leather--gazing at him with his golden iris.

Ren knew it upon eye contact with the man in the middle; he was without a doubt the one Aiko had talked about.

The chattering between the men stopped as they noticed the unknown visitor, though their guard was raised--none of them reached for their weapons.

"The hell are you?"

Asking in a low, abrasive tone, the man with the eyepatch lowered the fuzzy fruit he held away from his mouth. Sitting beside him were two men; one of a burly, round build and the other slim yet holding a keen look in his narrow, questioning gaze.

"Ren."

A vague, yet honest answer; Ren calmly answered before taking a seat in front of the strongly breathing flame, directly across from the man he kept his eyes on.

--I\'d like to avoid violence, if possible. I doubt they\'re the type to compromise, but...I refuse to become someone like them. If I can get them to stay away from Aiko, from Iris--I\'ll accept that.

Getting a closer look now, the three men were clearly injured, likely just coming out of a battle as their skin still glistened with sweat, dirt still clung to their attire, and injuries were present. Ren took note of these injuries; the man who was most likely the ringleader, bearing the eyepatch, had a bandage wrapped around his thigh, dyed in red.

The burly man, wearing an odd set of heavy-plated armor that lacked abdominal and bicep protection. It was made of some sort of metal coated in cobalt, caved in at certain sections--his unguarded stomach clearly having been taken advantage of as a series of bandages wrapped around his midsection. Ren kept his guard up most on this large man--taking note of the immense greatsword he kept by his side.

"Ren, huh? Are you new around here?"

"No."

Quickly rejecting that notion, the campfire fell silent for a few moments more as a tense lock of gazes were kept before the eyepatch-wearing man finally spoke out again.

"Well, I\'m Samson--big guy here is Dendhrug, snake-eyes is Yoel."

Introducing himself and his companions, the gruff-voiced man forced a smile as false as can be; extending his hand out towards Ren. He looked down at the extended hand for a moment; the lion sigil once more etched onto the black glove.

--He\'s full of shit.

As repulsive as it was, Ren met the handshake, gripping tightly as they shook hands; a smile was forced across Ren\'s lips, yet his eyes were anything but joyful. It was the same for "Samson"--though he held that welcoming expression, his iris was nothing of the sort; it was the eye of a cold-blooded killer, someone not unfamiliar with the taste of death.

--Even though it\'s just me, he\'s bothered to put on this nice guy act and even give me a false name. Those injuries must be real damming; I have the leverage here. Even still…

Even in his injured state, the potent aura of power radiating off of Samson was great, undoubtedly intentional; like a cornered animal baring its fangs.

"You look pretty tough, that\'s your familiar there?"

Samson asked, nudging his head as he pointed the subject of his question towards the slumbering feline on Ren\'s shoulder.

"Yeah; that\'s yours, I take it?"

Pointing the same question back at the man, Ren looked at the serpent wrapped around Samson\'s left arm--only just now noticing it as its scales shared the same complexion as the man\'s cloak.

"Yeah."

Though the two conversed, there was not a single word spoken from Dendhrug or Yoel; they were completely on their guard, their gazes not straying from him for a single second as a cold air kept around them.

--Should I do it? It might be better to take the initiative--that innate malice from Samson--from Leo, no doubt he wants to kill me. The only thing stopping him is that injury, most likely. I might be able to pull it off quickly if I start with a Blackout. If it seems like words won\'t do the trick then...I\'ll have to do it.

"So, what brings you over here? It\'s a dangerous place, this second floor, I mean. Lots of sinners out here; lots of men who don\'t have much to lose."

As Samson spoke, the welcoming smile had passively shifted into something of a more wretched nature; it looked to be his natural smile, one that belonged to someone lacking in humanity.

"Truth be told, I\'m starving!"

Ren gave a playful chuckle, patting his stomach as he hoped his laugh didn\'t come off as a facade. It wasn\'t exactly a lie though--just mentioning anything relating to food had caused his stomach to growl out, finally luring a response from the silent, watchful men as they shared in Ren\'s laughter.

"Yoel, give the man something, would ya\'?"

Giving a subtle command to the thin man wearing a tattered, dirtied cloak, Yoel complied as he reached into a sack sitting beside him, tossing to Ren something spherical in shape. It was a mix between magenta and scarlet, having a smooth surface--rolling it around in his palm, he took a quick sniff of it.

"What? Is it rotten or something?...Or do you think we gave you a poisoned magren? What would bring you to that thought?"

As he spoke, it seemed as if Samson convinced himself to become warier, narrowing his eye a bit as he watched Ren, taking a bite from the fruit he held.

"Can\'t be too cautious. It\'s like you said; a lot of sinners around here."

It seemed Ren\'s calmly spoken answer sufficed as the false smile returned to Samson\'s lips. From what he could gather, the mysterious fruit was untainted; a large bite was taken out of it, leading to a mouthful of a dry, bitter chunk before spitting it out.

Watching this, the group of three fell into a roar of gnawing laughter, the burly man nearly falling backward from his stone seat.

"What the hell did you give me? It\'s awful!"

"Where did you think this fruit came from? We\'re in Purgatory; not exactly bountiful fields here, Ren. Better than starving, no?"

Though he tried to reason with the awful taste of the fruit, Samson held a leering smile that attempted to hold back his laughter.

--Even if he\'s not actively assaulting someone, he\'s a douchebag. The more I sit here, the less inclined I become to give them a fair chance. Even so...What good does it do if I save Aiko from violence with the same unconditional brutality? What kind of example does that give her? I haven\'t seen much, but I\'ve seen enough; I\'d like to prevent any further warping of perception--I want her to see a kind world--one that clearly doesn\'t exist within these depths.

Looking at the fruit he held in his hand, Ren softly exhaled the frustration out from his lungs, soothing the boiling rage that rioted within his veins as he lifted his head with a smile that trembled, holding onto it the best he could.