Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-26103034-20160320110750/@comment-5543592-20160404230656

Midas arrived in Riverhold on foot, shoes scuffed and worn. Dirt covered what remained of his torn robes and the sword strapped across his back was starting to feel awfully heavy. It was one thing to preach that the mind and body were seperate. It was another to actually put those words to the test. Midas' mind and body certainly did not feel seperate. His feet hurt, he smelled bad, and he wanted food that didn't have road dust in it. That's what his body was telling his mind to tell him. And Midas was obliged to listen.

Iomas was not. The welder's glasses he wore showed little of what expression might lie behind them, and the large, strong-bodied monk. When Midas wanted to stop, Iomas had pressed them on. When Midas had insisted the needed baths, Iomas repleid that no one needed baths. When Midas asked if they could pick up new rations somewere, Iomas had had the audacity to ask 'why?'  And now Midas ached like no tomorrow and all he wanted was some where comfortable to lie down and sleep like the dead.

But, with his luck, Iomas was likely to make him sleep outside on the ground tonight. He would call it coming into touch with Talos and there would be no denying him. Midas didn't know if he was lucky or cursed to have ended up with an Invoker such as Iomas. Although, the amount of blisters on his feet probably decided for him. And then again, he would most certainly be dead without Iomas.

As they stepped into the city, the older monk turned to Midas, his eyes barely visible shadows behind those glasses.

He didn't speak for a moment, just stared down at Midas, who shifted uncomfortably beneath his stare.

"We will rest here for the night." Iomas finally said, causing the prince to exhale in relief.

Midas may have been the royal, but of the pair, Iomas was the one in charge.

"How did you get the bones?" Yaden asked. "And why were you defending the road?"