Seeking the Way and Preparation

[Pavel Vesely]

"Moving to ruins. Please find me if needed or tablets deciphered. — Guy." With a hastily-scrawled note nailed to the noticeboard, Guy had left the inn, carefully packing up his encampment before he made his way into the forest, drawn toward the ancient, submerged Nordinist chamber he and the others had found but a couple days hence. There was something about this ruin had drawn him in, whether it be faith or some outside hand.

Navigating the wood carefully, the nameless warrior soon reached the sealed entrance, soon erecting his shelter once more. Theo and Lady Val both had given him the suggestion to try praying at this site, and even then, he couldn't help but feel as though his gods-given mission was somehow connected to this place. Propping himself up with Maxim's glaive, the young man withdrew his silver hand amulet, and the engagement ring thereupon, letting it hang from his hands, clasped in silent prayer for several minutes before rising to return to his tent.

Once inside, Guy drew a deep breath before laying his arms out before him, looking each weapon over carefully. Taking up his inherited polearm, he took a nearby stone, and began to carefully resharpen and hone its bone edge before taking care of his throwing darts. That just left... his sword, the dreadful thing. As he reached for it, he'd grit his teeth, pushing himself to try and drown out a sense of hostile whispers within his head, still unknowing as to whether it was just him, or if Maxim were right about black swords. Carefully righting its edge, he prayed once more that he'd not have to defy his mentor and genuinely draw it. Setting his weapons aside, he'd soon begin polishing his armor with oil  to help keep it from the elements. Equipment maintained, he finally sat down to rest a spell and reflect, not quite ready to slumber.