Antoinette
*Artoria stopped, contemplating what Almann said. It did make sense, and to be honest, she could even relate to it; there were so many things she just wanted to forget and move past, yet she couldn't really seem to find a vent out. Smoking to forget, drinking to fill your heart with a mere facade of happiness, consuming drugs that temporarily gives you your own paradise; all seemed to be too good to be true - and they were - but she could see how the gift of being able to forget, even if just for a moment, could appeal to a large crowd.*

*Yet, she personally found herself to be against that very idea.*

*To her, finding a release to momentarily forget your problems was akin to running away from them. While she may be ruthless, the fox was simultaneously earnest. One couldn't just drink away your problems and hope that they'd just magically disappear; to bring about change, you have to act. You have to make a statement. People are more likely to remember those who overcame their adversaries and conquered their conflicts, not those who fell to them. What were those people called again? Ah, right. Heroes. Only a small crescent out of the whole of the populace.*

*She thought about her own problems too, though. She liked to think that she wasn't running away from her problems; rather, she acknowledged the fact that those problems had become so festered and numerous that she couldn't really do anything about them. Artoria accepted that she was long far gone; being able to go back to 'the good guys' was only a pipe dream. She wasn't a good guy. She was no hero.*

*She took her arms down from her lap, putting them onto her knees. She stared at the moon with a sort of wistful expression, which quickly steeled back to normal as she turned back to Almann.*

"That really does make sense," *She began, the quivering dissipitating from her voice.* "There's a bunch of things I want to forget. Even more numerous are the ones I need to atone for. And even MORE numerous is how many things I feel guilt for. But I can't just... Abandon them. Those feelings, those memories, everything - they're a part of me now. You can't just move forward in life cherrypicking the good things and leaving out the bad; now that's what I think is cheating."
Travis
_Almann mulled on her words for a few moments and proceeded to take out one of his steel daggers. It was well kept. He could clearly see his reflection in the razor sharp blade as he reflected the light of the moon._

_It was easy to say that if you had some sort of direction which leads you to atonement._

_Almann sighs_

"For many though, the only way to move forward is to gain the ability to push back the cycle of guilt. Every day is a cycle of continuous reminder of that guilt. You repeat this cycle enough times and you go insane. Many do go insane, and soldiers will put themselves in harms way to end the cycle of guilt for those they've killed, skilled artisans will go for bigger and bolder, more risky projects. But for those of us whose will to live is stronger, we push such things back with pipe or drink, perhaps achieving atonement along the way while we try to make amends. Most mercenaries like myself can't go back to the place we've committed our sins. You might understand that to a certain extent."

_There was too much, Almann though, that this girl didn't know. Too much that she hadn't experienced. Or perhaps her path was more straight than his. Perhaps she had direction in ways he didn't. Either way, her words didn't sway him much. One day he will feel fulfilled in his atonement. Joining New Sunlight was that first step._

_Almann looked at himself in the dagger. He looked far older now. His face looked weathered and worn, his right eye obviously missing, with various scars along his face. His hands, he had remembered, were calloused from his trade and war, but he didn't remember when they'd become so scarred. He had aged. It was a consequence of war. His hair was shorter to prevent it from being used against him._

*He simply looked... Tired.*
Antoinette
*Again, the fox thought about the words Almann had said. For the most part, she'd take his word on it; although she was 23, there was still a lot of things she hadn't seen with her own eyes. It made sense; The weak-willed releasing themselves from guilt by selfishly throwing themselves into danger, Artisans gradually increasing the risk of their creations until they die from it, mages drowning themselves in their study until all they can do is repeat magical formulas and spout out nonsensical arcane theories... It did sound like human nature to do such things, once she thought about it.* 

*The latter part, though? The latter was what she knew far too well. "You might understand that to a certain extent?" Oh, she knew it to the extreme. It was the ghost that haunted her side by night, the thoughts that infested her mind during the day. It was the very wind that whispered doubts into her; at this point, she was one with that feeling of yearning. She couldn't go home to her homeland because there was nothing left for her back there. She couldn't return to New Sunlight to Mevis and Hitoshi as friends; if anything, she'd go back in chains! There was an infinite amount of things that were barred from her grasp that was locked by where she had once stood... The more she thought about it, the more it seemed to grow, dauntingly increasing in value until it practically loomed over her in her mind's eye.*

*She giggled softly, then stopped, her face ending in a half grin. Almann's ignorance about her situation was a bit jarring to her. Almost comedic, in a way.*

"Sorry for laughing. Have I introduced myself yet?" *She said, hopping off the log with a sort of playful energy.*

*She suddenly turned back towards Almann after she hopped off. Her posture became authorative and cold, the playful energy turning into something much more stern. Her smile disappeared from her face, her expression turning cold. The clumsy, comedic kitsune was gone.*

"Nice to meet you, Almann." *She said, holding out a hand, gesturing for a handshake.* "My name's Artoria. Artoria Dax, though I believe you'd know me as Arthur."
Travis
_Almann kept his eye brows raised for a moment and then broke out in laughter, bringing himself to tears. Arthur? The guy who got knocked out early in the mission? The whose ass they had to drag out of the hideout? Fate had thrown him a bone it seems. This was beginning to be far more interesting than he'd ever imagined. He'd have to hear the story of how Arthur was put in this current state, on top of some other things he has seen along his travels. Almann was excited to hear from someone he hadn't seen for so long._

_But it was clear some people do have it worse than he did. Maybe he needed to remind himself of this more often..._

_It was hard to take her authoritative pose seriously as Almann stood up. He was several heads taller than her, and had to look down as recovered himself. Almann wiped some of the tears away from his eye, tucked away his pipe and dagger, continues his grinning, and shook the hand of Artoria._

"It's been a while hasn't it? It seems you've... Taken care of yourself well since our last meeting."

_His tone had clearly shifted from before, he was more eager now to hear the words of the kitsune._

"Perhaps we can exchange stories over some good food and drink? There's an inn not too far from here."
Antoinette
*Artoria broke down her posture, erupting into laughter as Almann did. Yeah, it was quite funny; a girl, heads shorter than him, trying to act all authorative and cool. If she were a guy, honestly it might've been a bit intimidating; nah, scratch that. Honestly, if she remembered correctly, she was the dead weight of that one mission they went on. It'd make sense to laugh at the comedic value of the entire ordeal, or just because of the sheer ridiculousness-*

*But it was nice, really. Laughing along with someone.*

*She walked on over to Almann, trying to put an arm around his shoulder, only to realize she was too short to be able to. She sighed, then put her hands on her waist as she looked up to the macen.*

"Certainly has been a while," *She said with a grin.* "And for the record, It's not my fault I ended up like this. I'll tell you the entire story later. A tavern sounds pretty good right about now, to be honest."
Travis
_Almann nods and gestures back towards the direction he came from. It had been a while since he'd talked to someone he was already well acquainted with. He vaguely remembered that Arthur had a sword. He'd have to ask about that later though._

_Almann began the decent walk back to the inn, keeping an eye on the moonlight as it pierced through the leaves above. It was a quiet and peaceful night, hopefully it stayed that way._

"Aye, they have good grub, clean beds to sleep in too. The Tired Giant is one of my favoriate places to hold up. The owners are an aged couple, their granddaughter waits the tables and their son does a lot of the mule work. Best of all, their lips are sealed."

_He fiddled with some of the trinkets he had in his pockets. Almann often made some of these trinkets to keep his mind sharp. Smaller puzzles, pendants, and weapon parts he made out of things he'd fine cheap in the market. He'd eventually either sell them in his shop back in Ainakil, or give them to the children in the city. He had a few business partners who had grandchildren that would appreciate such things._

_Almann favored one trinket in particular, a bronze lever system that fit in the palm of his hand. You could rotate the arm of the lever 360 degrees in every forward direction, usually with his thumb. It allowed for him to fidget whilst thinking of different things to make. The lever system itself was made up of a small cube of bronze, with a socket attaching a small bronze cylinder to it. It had no real use, other than to keep his hands occupied._

_He took out the bronze lever toy, and put it up against the moonlight. The metal shone quite bright in the moonlight and daylight. Because of this, he often had to keep these things hidden away to prevent himself from being easily spotted by malevolent parties on his quests. Tonight there wasn't much to worry about, and he could enjoy the nice polish of his creation._
Antoinette
*They walked on, Artoria following behind Almann. The grass shifted into a beaten down pathway, looking relatively old and worn as the moon above illuminated the earth below. The light shone through the trees, causing the dew on the leaves of trees around them to glitter with sparkling celestial luster. The braying of deer in the distance and the hooting of owl calls in the night, the occasional wolf howl and the constant crunching of dirt beneath boots; all of these were present as they travelled the arduous walk back to the inn. She'd have to memorize this path, lest she lose her way and leave her air strider behind leashed onto a tree. It wouldn't be a problem, though; she could probably catch her mount's scent on the air and trace it back that way.*

*As the moon above enveloped the night with it's glow, Artoria was able to catch glimpses of Almann's person coming in and out of the moonshine. His face, save for the eyepatch, looked something you'd find on a war general; the scars lacerated onto his skin dug lines stretching from the bottom of his chin to the top of his forehead. The creases around his nose looked like something stolen from a man long past his years; Artoria assumed that the guy was probably in his late 50s, judging by how he looked. In the moonlight, he gave off an impression like a weathered and worn sword; ancient, but was once sharp and powerful. Though, she didn't doubt his combat capabilities; not much could've changed since the last time she saw him, right?*

*Curiosity invaded her mind. What had he been doing these past months? She knew he was a mercenary, but her mind brought up the image of someone a bit more... Refined, than the person present. She came to the conclusion that he must have, like her, gone through some tough shit; it would explain his tired expression and aged demeanor.*

*They would eventually reach a tavern in the road for what felt like hours later. It was a small, homey place, with a small sign hanging over the oaken awning overhead. "The Tired Giant," Is what it said. For it's small stature, however, it looked pretty clean; unlike larger bars, it felt like somewhere to truly relax in. She couldn't hear much noise from inside; another plus, since other bars usually had rowdy barfights or boasting competitions. A small rocking chair was laid out on the porch, a knitting needle and a small kit of multicolored thread laying neatly on the seat.*

"This must be the place, eh?" *She said, passing a lantern and walking up the porch to open the door leading inside.*

*Creaking open, she found... Actually a fairly small amount of people inside. There were multiple booths laid out near the sides, with a meager amount of tables dotted here and there throughout. In the far back, there was a small bar with an old man at the back, cleaning out glass mugs with a cloth. When Artoria walked in, he paid her no attention. Just a nod towards her direction. When they saw Almann in the doorframe, however, he waved towards the man with his washcloth.*

"Welcome back, Almann. Hope you had a nice walk." 

*Artoria, ignoring the small talk, walked over to a booth on the right side of the tavern. She sat on one end, her eyes growing wide as she realized that she'd left her coin pouch with her air strider.*

"Yo, Almann! You're going to have to pay for this one. I kind of forgot my cash."
Travis
_Almann waves back with the old man. His name was Orwen, and his family had owned this place for almost 6 generations. The old coot made sure to keep the place up to par no matter who entered. He was a master of hospitality and it showed. The fire pit was nice and warm, with meat on the spit no matter what time of day it was. The mead was always (mysteriously) nice and cool, and there never seemed to be fights around._

_Orwen himself was a barrel of a man, and while he left the more grunt tasks to his son, he had enough strength to bash the heads of two patrons who decided to cause trouble. He also had enough smarts and wisdom to fix things that were broken around the inn. That didn't stop Almann from chipping in where he could though to help lessen his bill._

"It is good to be back. I brought a guest this time." _he gestures towards Artoria_

_Orwen raises an eyebrow_

"A lady? She's definitely in better shape than some of the game you bring in. Be glad lass that he didn't char you before bringing you in here." _he chuckles._

_Almann grunts at the old man's humor. It seemed he was doing well. A young woman comes out from the kitchen to serve today's stew to one of the guests in the back corners of the inn. Almann gestures her over._

_The girl had a simple face and features, standing at about Artoria's height, with walnut colored hair and similarly colored eyes. Her welcoming face was covered in freckles, and gave a warm smile as she began to speak._

"Al, you'll have the usual?" 

_To his dismay, the girl almost treats Almann like an uncle by the way she talks. He wasn't that old for gods sakes..._

"Aye, todays stew and a pint..."

_Almann chuckles_

"Your nicknames always make me sound like an old man Cilia, I'm not too much older than you or our guest here."

_Cilia puffs her cheeks and gives a curt response._

"Well if you didn't act like such an old man..."

_Almann simply rolls his eyes and sits back in his chair, gesturing to Artoria._

"Artoria here is looking for a warm meal and drink, I'm sure you've got something you can cook up in the back that will satisfy her."

_He turns to Artoria fully_

"Simply tell her a dish to cook and they will see what they can do. Don't be shy now, I'm paying."

_Gods he hoped his wallet wouldn't be cleaned out tonight..._