Greeting the Howl {Ethan Leigh}

"THAT'S THE WAY! Attack all of them at once," the old man shouted, causing some confusion with his target. The brigand did not know which attack would come at him first. He could not take on two opponents without severe consequences. Yet, Oliander was not about to let this criminal get away with his treachery. He rushed in again, axe intent on bringing down his wretched opponent.

PEUpE5cl1-100
{Need 85 to hit due to Offensive Support.}

Confusion got the best of the brigand, yelling in pain and despair, collapsing to his death from the massive wound gashed by the axe, "Did I not warn you of your mistake!"

{Brigand One falls. Overkill to -5 HP}1-100

Both of the front liners were down, leaving just one target left. The coward with the bow. A nod came from Oliander who approved of Ethan's work. "Now then," rumbled the sailor's baritone voice. His massive body turned with eyes narrowed. The archer was going to have a horrible time with what remained of his existence. Oliander took a single step, then another, and began rushing at his final target. Close ranged combat tended to be a terrible story for a ranged combatant trying to defend himself.

Once close enough, the giant of a man swung his axe upon the archer, "Surrender or suffer the fate of your criminal alliances!"

OUdWkVvd1-100
{Need 78 to hit}

A deep gash swallowed up the archer's life, but not quite enough to end his suffering. He might have needed to beg for the mercy of instant death instead of the wound's searing pain.

{Punk Ass Archer HP: 4/16}

Tag: Ethan1-100

Oliander readied his axe to go for the final strike. The one, true, killing blow. Yet his moment of glory would be submitted to his younger accomplice. Ethan got up close and personal to the archer, delivering a brutal finisher to the archer's life. The old sailor's chest heaved as he continued to breath as he processed the situation. Adrenaline took its time, easing itself out of Oliander's body. The job was finished, and both of them escaped with their lives in tact. Not without a few marks to commemorate the event of course. The sailor dug his axe into the ground, bending over to rest on its hilt, "Damn... phew. Really did not want us to have an actual discussion lad. Hmm?"

His hand reached his chest, feeling the wound those bastards struck him with. The cut was mean, blood having leaked out of it, but not something that would hamper his ability to do physical activity. Ethan's situation became a priority to the old man. Both of them had the apparent capability of taking heavy blows, but the blue haired wandered seemed to have taken a worse effect. Stumbling for a moment, Oliander reached a hand towards Ethan, "Ya don't look so good, lad. Don't kill yourself tryin' to stand. Come on, get over here and I'll help." The man released his other hand from his axe, offering the wanderer his full support.

Nothing about that situation was funny, or something to wave off as a tale for another day. Despite that Oliander could not allow the fight to get the best of him. A slight grin crossed his face, yet it was gentle this time, keeping the heavy cheer at bay for the moment. Just like any other person the blue haired man's age, the old captain saw nothing more than another child to look after. Youth, bravery, a sense of duty. He would continue to try and convince this one to set a more decisive path. "Gotta thank ya though. If you weren't there I might have had a more difficult time. Not that I COULDN'T take 'em on. Heh heh," the old man chuckled.

Tag: Ethan

Nodding, the old man wrapped his right arm around Ethan's shoulders, placing his free hand on the blue haired youth's nearest shoulder. It was the best support he could provide as Oliander led his companion back towards the camp. Unfortunate that he did not have time to complete the set up before those brigands arrived. The sailor felt himself wince as the bleeding wound he suffered forced pain in his chest. He was not bleeding to death, but the man forced back his grunt as much as possible. The young man with him was the one who suffered the worse end of combat. Oliander did not need this guy to worry.

On the plus sighed the camp was not too far away. He had to give those bastards credit for having the courtesy to be near a rest stop. A slow walk, but a much needed speed. It would do neither of them any good if they antagonized their wounds. Oliander reached the spot where he would make the campfire, doing his best to sit Ethan down as gentle as possible. "Lad, sit there for a spell. Gonna unpack the bandages. Not a doctor, but, better than nothin'," the aging captain said as he wandered over to his traveling bag. A grunt escaped his throat when he set himself on his knees. The tense muscles in his body became sore, wanting to stretch out and relieve themselves.

"Like I said, was raised to love Nohr, and trained since my youth to defend those innocent in Nohr. Just so happens to assist in protecting more than just my country," the old captain chuckled. Rough hands dug into his traveling pack searching for the bandages. A satisfied, baritone hum echoed from Oliander as he felt the cloth wrap all rolled up. The sailor pulled out the roll, his wound's pressure causing him to grunt once again as he stood up. But he could not make any stops on his path. It was too soon to just have the wandered meet a terrible fate from his wounds. If not that, have sickness invade the young man's body.

A minute or two later, the lumbering giant still having to stumble here and there, Oliander made it back to his destination. He set himself on his knees, placing his body behind the young man, "Tell me if I missed yer wound there at all. Not gonna have ya suffer cause I decided to not give enough of a damn to make sure." The captain began to unroll the cloth wrapping, eyeing Ethan's left flank, "Also tell me if I put too much pressure on that wound. Sometimes I misjudge how much strength I use." Once the old man had a good enough start on the roll, he began to set the bandage around his companion's wounded area.

"Can't tell ya how many times my crew and I have gotten into situations where we've been put out of commission for a few days just because of some faulty accident. Nothin' new, but I would just prefer to have an actual doctor nearby," Oliander said, trying to stoke conversation as he worked.

Tag: Ethan

Part of him wanted to loosen the pressure wrapped around the boy's waist. Here was a young man who still had an entire lifetime ahead of him, and already was dealing with the meager things more than ready to kill him. Oliander should have been the one taking all of those hits, and the old man wanted to be that living wall keeping everyone else alive and happy. This was no way to live. Shaking his head, unleashing a sigh as he did, his hands knotted the cloth to avoid the slightest movement ruining his work. Once finished, Oliander placed his hands on his thighs for a quick breather.

Without a second thought the captain got to work on his own wound. Another surge of pain ushered into his body. The strike might have dug a little bit deeper than he wanted to admit. Big arms struggled, the cloth wrap alternating between which hand was in possession of it. Oliander paused, however, looking at the vulenary, "What? Oh, hmm, ha ha right! Thanks lad for the offer, but keep it to yerself. I'll be fine waiting for this to heal. You're the one wandering about the world and all." His chest heaved, adjusting to the strain of the cloth wrap. A careful eye might notice the old man placing more pressure on his own bandaging.

His focus on patching both of them up coming to a close, he rolled up the cloth to save it for another day. There was just not enough to around every waking moment. Another scar was bound to creep up from the remains of the recent attack. "Don't worry too much about your own medical knowledge," he started, taking a long breath to get used to his bandages, "I'm still in the same position as you are with that." Oliander pushed himself off the ground, moving into a sitting position for an actual discussion with Ethan.

He leaned forward, relieving his body of that battle's tensions, "Combat medic? If I might ask, what stopped you from doing that? Getting around by yourself from the looks of it you don't seem as though you lack a good head on your shoulders. If you did I doubt we'd have met just now." Once again the captain resumed his optimistic nature. His grin returned, proud body acting as though neither of them were attacked by brigands in the first place.

Tag: Ethan

This proud Nohrian sat there, observant eyes piercing towards the young mercenary. No need to interrupt or deny either end of the conversation. Life forced the truth to reveal itself at some point or another. Ethan had a boat load of confessions to make, the blue haired man being a military deserter, and each part of what was told had an honest quality to it. With the current state of the world Oliander would have been foolish not to admit some of Nohr's grievances towards others. Members of the Ice Tribe were proof of behaviors Nohr had which he could not tolerate, but he nary had a chance of doing anything to soothe the pain of those unfortunate, isolated people.

"I see, so then, ya got off yer rear end and high tailed outta there," the old man confirmed. Oliander leaned forward, right resting on the appropriate knee, and his opposite arm's elbow resting on the other. The fingers of his left hand scratched his ragged beard, as though contemplating the course of action for this conversation. He nodded, giving Ethan a shrug, "Can't say I've witnessed anything in the Ice Tribe, having not been there meself, but with all the talk of rebellion and what not around there's no way I can deny the things you've said." A redundant answer, but he was a man who needed to get his thoughts out be telling them to the whole world outside.

"But that aside, since I don't think ya wanna dwell on that too much after our little roughhousing," Oliander continued as his body lurched up right, shoulders rolling back with an audible crack, "Ooof, that's good. Hit the right spot!" As much as the sailor wanted to switch the topic in its entirety, he needed to relate somehow, "Not sure if it matters, but would you believe I never once considered joining the Nohrian military? 'Course with how you've seen me act I'm pretty sure they'd have kicked me out. But I have other good reason too!"

Tense hands raised up, the old man looking down and mimicking the expression Ethan gave before. A sly grin wormed its way across his face. Teasing this army deserter might just be what was needed to get their minds off the bad stuff, "Swear I was out at sea all the time and not screwin' around when I landed at ports after work was done. Gahahaha!"

Tag: Ethan

Spite rammed its way into the old man's face, concern etched from the claim that people got what they deserve. Beyond reason, or so he considered, this wanderer may have been more broken by the events in his life than Oliander wanted to admit. Ignorance was a fickle thing. He had been at sea far too long, and even with conversations at ports and taverns it still was not enough for a proper grasp on the situation. The Ice Tribe could not have been all that bad. Ethan still had enough good points to where Oliander figured he at least was raised by proper adults. Or at least, he would like to think so.

Time, in the end, would solve a lot of issues in someone's life. A bit of push is needed, but people could tough it out. The captain's gaze wandered as his companion stood up to walk around. Wounds synchronized, his own strike across the chest pulsing once more. Oliander was on the verge of forgetting they were in combat just a few minutes ago. While the sailor enjoyed a good fight, today proved to be one of those moments where he wished none of it was necessary. People got hurt, some losing body parts, and others outright die. Rough times fueled the man's desires, a good thought or two remaining inside his mind.

Once the silence came to an end he was alerted to more conversation. He blinked and returned his gaze to Ethan. Regardless of the old man's inner ramblings none of it removed the living from the picture. Processing the wanderer's questions used a considerable amount of brain power. Something about what was out there. Oliander picked up the names of Nohr and Hoshido, and digested the phrase of what lay beyond the ocean. A chuckle escaped the old sailor's lips as he brought all of it into a defined piece of words.

"Must say I do have some crazy stories from docking," he began, allowing the words to sink in, "But I'd be lyin' if I said I went all that far away from the homeland." He scratched his beard considering where he sailed to, from, and back again. "Everything's strange outside of yer hometown. Been to Hoshido plenty of times, though I still haven't seen a decent chunk of its land. Might be some time before a I do considerin' what's happening nowadays," the veteran sailor continued.

He followed Ethan's idea, standing up for a small walk around the area himself. That did more good than just sitting around. Oliander allowed a bass hum to ring from his throat, "Ya know lad, there are still things out there. The sea's got yer pirates and dashin' young folks clashing swords against them. Travelers bring maps and tales of hidden islands filled with some poor bastard's treasure. Creature sightings from deep within and people just barely gettin' out alive! Oh, and the storms. A terrifying struggle between man and uncontrolled forces! Had my hands full whenever I got stuck out at sea in the middle of one. It's why I refuse to set off knowin' a storm's coming."

Perhaps that would spark some more entertainment.

Tag: Ethan