This wasn’t how their trip was supposed to go.
As they tread the dirt path, littered with the crunchy orange and yellow relics of deciduous trees, Yemon was busy soaking up the sights. Eyes wide and gaze flickering, he took in the surroundings with a hefty handful of awe. Chikao, meanwhile, wasn’t as absorbed in the beauty that embraced them; he was more concerned with making sure nothing happened to the youngster beside him.
A rustle. Chikao jutted an arm out, bringing both himself and Yemon to a halt.
「ちょっと待ってください。」 Chikao croaked, his other hand reaching for his wakizashi.
From the refugee of a cluster of trees, a man emerged. A hairy hand held onto an old, chipped dagger, one that had an odd shine to it beneath the watchful afternoon sun.
“Hand over ‘ur valuables,” the man said.
Chikao narrowed his eyes, observant to the unusual shimmer. Poison? Poison. Newly applied; hadn’t had time to dry. Either that or he’d recently washed the blade, but Chikao figured it was best to assume the worst in this situation.
“Go away,” Yemon snapped, “we have nothing to give you.”
“Ah’think y’do,” a crooked smile split his cheeks, unveiling yellow teeth.
“Leave now,” Chikao commanded, unsheathing a wakizashi and stepping in front of Yemon. He had the distinct feeling the man wouldn’t heed his command and that this would end very, very messily.
The two fought. Chikao was quick, unnaturally so, and landed hard hits within moments of them starting. However, because he (stupidly) hadn’t withdrawn his second wakizashi, he had little means to deflect blows. The thug managed to just cut his arm shortly before Chikao delivered the final, fatal strike, reducing the man to a naught but a body on the ground.
Oblivious to what type of poison it was exactly, Chikao knew he needed to get to a healer - and fast. The duo backtracked their way to the town they’d recently passed through, Ivarstead, and during the trip back, Chikao found his vision growing blurrier by the moment. His limbs grew weak.
“Hello!” Yemon shouted, earning the eyes of many. “Yes, hello, hello! Where is healer? Friend is... is...”
His mind blanked - he forgot the Commons word for poison. He bit his lip for a moment.
“... Really hurt. Please!”
A local, recognising the weakness in Chikao’s form, darted over to help the man towards the local healers - The Dusty Cauldron.
“Aye, Dust!” bellowed the burly Nordic man moments before he swung the door open to the quaint little medical establishment, “I think this guy needs y'help!”
