The Warrior and the Bard
by Falsum_Anon

Preface :
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Thank you to everyone who took a look at 'familiar'! I'm still very new to writing, but I feel a little better about it now, and wanted to try something with characters I've planned out a little better. Plus, I couldn't get to sleep tonight, this story wouldn't leave me alone.

If you have any comments please go scream at me on /hmofa/, I'll almost certainly see it.
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Chapter 1 : An Uncommon Encounter
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*Creak squeak creak squeak*
went the wheels of Anon's cart over the cobblestone road. He was in high spirits this evening. Thornhaven was only a day's travel from here, and the crisp autumn air was perfect for walking. The forest through which the road ran was adorned with all shades of red and gold  as the trees prepared for the coming winter.
Before long, night began to fall. Anon stopped, spotting a little clearing near the road.
"Better make camp" he said to himself, steering the cart into the leaf-covered grass.
With the precision that comes only with years of experience, Anon had the tent set up in no time. It was a humble affair, green, and covered with a lattice of patches that could each tell a story. Once the tent was up, he turned his attention to gathering wood. Some fiddling with the tinderbox, and he had a steady blaze going in a little ring of stones.
Fire crackling happily, Anon went over to the cart and grabbed his little cooking pot. In it was a bundle of cloth containing a rabbit he had shot that morning, and the last of his dried vegetables. He got to work, filling the pot in a nearby stream and setting it over the fire. Sitting cross-legged, he unfurled the cloth and started carefully slicing the vegetables, then the rabbit. Into the pot they went, together with his last pinch of salt. It was his final evening in the wilderness after all, a celebration was in order. 

As the delicious aroma of cooking stew begain to rise from the pot, Anon leaned back against the cart for a brief rest. It had been a long day, and these woods were as safe as they came.
Or at least they had been.
So it wasn't until they had crept right up to his fire did Anon notice the two wolves.
At first he was unafraid. There were animals in the woods of course, but they were unusually friendly, and there had never been a recorded attack.
"Here for some stew?" He asked "I'm afraid I don't have all that much, but we can make it work for three."
The wolves seemed much more interested in Anon than the stew however, and he began to grow worried. As they crept closer, he slowly moved his hand up towards his sword. He was cursing himself for leaving it in the cart, assuming he wouldn't need it.
They were close enough to lunge now, and the sword was still out of reach. Anon's heart was close to pounding out of his chest. Could wolves smell fear?
And there was something... off, about them. Their heads were canted at a strange angle. The look in their eyes had an unnatural distance to them, as though they could see Anon without being aware of him.
But most strangely of all, as the firelight danced off their hides, Anon swore he could make out the heads of tiny mushrooms poking out of the fur.
The fear Anon felt for his life was superseeded by monumental terror. There was a presence in the woods opposite him that was making his head swim, and his stomach fill with ice.
Whatever this new presence was, the wolves were aware of it too. Snapping their heads backwards to look, they immediately fled past Anon and his camp, yipping in terror. Their heads flailed madly as they ran, as though their necks were mere cloth.
No time to dwell on it. Anon lept to his feet, reaching for his sword and drawing it in one fluid motion. He held the blade out in front of him, doing his best to keep his hand from shaking.
"Show yourself, fiend!" He yelled into the woods.

Paradoxically, as the cloaked figure emerged from the treeline, Anon felt his terror recede. It held up a hand, still shadowed.
"The spell has some unfortunate side-effects. I mean you no harm, traveller."
The voice that came out of the hood was so calm, so melodious, that Anon caught his guard falling. This only served to steel him up again, ready for whatever trickery this witch was attempting to weave.
Drawing the hand back, the figure reached to pull down the dark purple hood of it's cloak.
Standing in front of Anon, behind the fire, was the most beautiful Lynx he had ever seen. The green of her eyes sparkled with untold magic, and the pale gold of her fur made it look as though the forest was being gaudy. She was speckled with black, and two gold hoops hung at the base of one ear.
But Anon remained in battle stance, sword at the ready. Spell-casting had never been to his taste, and he was wary of anyone who could inspire terror as easy as light a candle.
His sword was still up, but she paid it no attention as she strode forward.
"I see you remain hesatant. Please, I am sincere. Was it not enough to scare away your attackers?"
"Not if you mean to replace them." Anon replied, the tip of his sword tracking the cat.
But she walked right up to it, a mere inch away from the sharpened steel, and sat in front of the fire.
"Well, even if you won't trust me, surely you'll repay your debt? Your skill at cooking is apparent."
Was she trying to flatter him to disarm him? It didn't feel malicious. Magically forced calmness had a subtle bite of tension behind it, that Anon had carefully trained himself to discern. That tension wasn't here now.
Though he suspected that had she really meant him harm, the sword wouldn't do much good anyway.
Slowly, Anon re-sheathed his weapon, and set it on the cart.
"That's better" she smiled, and stuck out a furred paw. "I'm Lyra, pleasure to meet you."
Anon took Lyra's paw in an awkward sitting/standing handshake. He had shook with anthros before of course, and took guilty pleasure in the feel of their pawpads on his palm. The thought was absurd now, so Anon quickly banished it from his mind.
"Anon, and the pleasure is mine." He said, curtly.
"Not yet it isn't!" the lynx laughed, rolling backwards a little, and then motioning to the pot, "is it ready yet?"
"Um, just about." Anon said, surprised. Why was she so happy?
"Wonderful, do you think it will be enough?"
But something about the cat sitting by his fire made Anon feel genuine peace. A smile to match hers was forming on his face.
"Well, I'm afraid I don't have all that much" he said, nonchalantly "but we can definitely make it work for two." 

It was just as well, Anon had two wooden bowls in the cart. He handed her one and ladeled a generous portion of soup into it, making sure to include a lot of the rabbit meat.
Some part of him was chastizing him for the speed with which he had welcomed this dangerous stranger.
He rationalized this fear away with remarkable ease, the joviality thie cat had inspired simply couldn't be an illusion.
More than that though, Anon was glad to have someone to share the evening with.

Lrya took the dented metal spoon Anon offered her with a gracious smile. She immediately fished up a big chunk of meat, and started to blow on it.
His own bowl filled, Anon sat next to her. The fire provided ample warmth to counter the chill air.
Chewing on the gamey meat, Lyra gave a noise of approval.
"This is excellent, Anon!"
"You flatter me" he laughed "it is but a simple traveller's dish."
"Probably why it's so good." She said, going in for another spoonful.
Anon spooned at his own soup happy at the praise.
Swallowing her second mouthful, the lynx asked
"So, what brings a traveller like yourself out to these woods?"
"The nights are growing longer, winter will arrive soon" Anon said. He realized he had been staring into her eyes for an innapropriate amount of time, and drew his gaze into the fire. "I'm going to arrange lodging for the coming months."
"You're an adventurer then?" She asked, still looking at his face.
"A warrior, yes. I'm not a member of any party at the moment, a situation I can hopefully mend in town."
Lyra laughed into the cool night. 
"Ah, this is perfect! I knew there was something."
"I'm sorry, I don't follow." Anon replied, spoon halfway up to his mouth.
"I would like to make a formal request" the cat said, twirling her spoon and making a little mock bow "to join thy party."
Anon was dumbfounded.
"But... but why?" He managed, after a time. He was trapped once more in pools of shimmering green.
"Because I like you." She said, as though Anon had only asked for the time of day "and because I can't cook nearly so well, this is a delight."
A hundred replies flashed through Anon's mind. 'What are your credentials?' 'Are you mad?' 'Why in the heavens would you join the party of a single warrior who you've known for minutes.'
But as he looked at her hopeful face, all but one reply faded from his mind.
"It would be my honor to have you in my party."
She clapped her paws together, bowl safely in her lap. Anon hadn't noticed her put it down. He coughed, excusing his gaze back into the fire.
"Fantastic! I suppose our first destination is still Thornhaven?"
"Um, yes." Anon said. "There is still the matter of holing up for the winter."
"Oh, you needn't worry about that."
Anon blinked, and returned his eyes to the cheerful lynx.
"Whatever do you mean?"
"I'm a spellcaster." She grinned "I've memorized the sigils of dozens of teleporation circles across the realm. We can be most anywhere you'd like as soon as you'd like it."
Anon gaped.
"But, to do that, you would have to be..."
"Something like a tenth level bard" she finished for him "which, fortunately enough, happens to be the case."
The gods had decided to give Anon a strange night indeed. He himself was a third level warrior, to be in party with someone at tenth level was almost a perversion.
She hadn't even asked for his class and level before asking to join his party.
"So, you can bring us to Thornhaven?"
"No, they don't have a circle" she returned her attention to the soup. "And I disagree with the purpose of the circles anyway, so I don't use them much."
"Whatever do you mean, that you 'disagree' with their purpose?" Anon asked, indignant. While he took pleasure in his travels, to hear one shrug off the power of teleportation as such was nearly an insult.
"A teleporation circle brings you back to where you've been." she replied again in that simple way. 
"Is that not a useful ability?"
"I want to meet everyone in the world." Lyra said, punctuating it with a singsong laugh. "One can hardly do that if they keep retracing their steps."
Anon blinked again.
"Everyone in the world?"
"Everyone."
And the cat went in for another spoonful of the stew.

After their meal was finished, Anon and Lyra sat back against the cart. The lynx was purring happily.
"Well Anon, you've not only repaid your debt, but put me in one. Please, allow me to even the score."
Reaching into her cloak, Anon's companion pulled out an instrument that was far too big to have been hiding there. It was a polished wooden lute, it's curves reflecting the firelight in a hypnotizing way. It was as though, if he looked close enough, Anon could see the grain of the wood shifting subtly. The magic was not unlike that in her eyes.
"You're a bard?" He asked.
"Nothing but." She answered, reaching to tune the instrument. Her claws picked at the strings, as her ears swiveled to discern the correct intervals.

A bit of plucking and she had the lute tuned to her satisfaction.  Her pawpads danced briefly over the strings for a final check.
The Lynx met Anon's eyes with her own, and began to play.
It was gentle, but insistent. It kept moving forward, with a rolling sort of energy. Lrya closed her eyes and hummed to the melody, swaying gently.
Anon hadn't realized that he had started swaying too.
After a few minutes, the song ended on an uncertain note, as if it wasn't sure if there way supposed to be more of it. Lyra opened her eyes again.
"That was beautiful." Anon told her, truthfully. He had seen tremendous energy in bard's songs, how they could rile a group or placate it, but they always played to gain. Lyra played as though she was giving something away.
"Now you flatter me" she smiled "it was but a simple traveller's song."
Anon felt something brush his left thigh. A speckled tail had crossed behind him, coming to rest on his lap.
When had Lyra moved closer?

"Shall we go to the tent?"
"You mean, to share?" Anon asked. The tent was too small for two to sleep apart, he had planned on laying outside to give his new travelling compantion some privacy.
The starry night filled with her musical laugh.
"I don't see another tent!" She said. Her left paw moved to cover Anon's right.

Most everyone considered friendliness across species lines to be commonplace.
Very few considered relations across those lines to be anything but sinful.
Which is why Anon had always kept his preference for furred women under the table. It was hard sometimes, to disguise his looks and manner of speech.
But as he shifted to accomodate for a familiar growing tightness, the humor in the lynx's eyes told him he was busted.

"You know, I've heard that a warrior and a bard can make a pretty good paring." Lyra hummed. "'m glad you agreed to have me, Anon."
She licked her lips, and Anon watched the pink tongue trace across rows of pointed white. A shiver ran down him.
"You did strike me as the sort of man... open to new experiences."
She closed the distance for a kiss. Gentle, like the song she had played for him. Anon felt the thin fur around her lips part, as her rough tongue searched for his.
Anon drew back, his eyes closed. She kissed the way she played, like she was giving something to him.
He decided in that moment that he would give her something back.

Heart beating as fast as it had been when the wolves were attacking, he stood up, walked to the tent, and held the flap open with a little bow of his own.
The look Lyra had was more like gratitude than anything else.
"Oh, and we won't have to worry about keeping a watch" she mentioned, ducking in. Anon looked up to a shimmering translucent dome around the campsite.
Even now, the thought of the twisted wolves was bothering him. Why had they acted so strangely?
But there were more pressing matters. Taking a last look at the starry sky, Anon followed his companion into the tent.
She had him cut out perfectly, Anon was definitely open to new experiences.


Chapter 2 : Thornhaven
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0600. Anon's eyes snapped open, years of waking up at the same time had left him without the need for an alarm. Despite the fact that he hadn't gotten the usual eight hours last night, there was more than enough leftover cheer to compensate.
That is, until Anon realized he was in the tent alone. The warmth in him drained away as he rushed to look out at his campsite, surely ransacked. What in the hells had he been thinking? Though he had to admit it, the cat had pulled off the best hussle he had ever seen.
A hustle so good, in fact, that all of Anon's supplies were exactly where he had left them. The only thing that was missing was Lyra.
Anon looked at his fully-stocked cart, puzzled. He didn't have to wonder long though, as the sound of a happy jig began to come up from behind a hill.
And there she was, energetically bowing her instrument and walking down towards him. The cat was barely visible in the morning twilight, covered by her purple cloak. She looked surprised at the sight of Anon, gave a little wave, and had soon made it all the way back.
"You're an early riser." She stated.
"As are you." Anon replied, eyebrows up.
"I felt like taking a walk" she smiled, and pulled a little bundle of cloth from her cloak. In it was an assortment of berries. She popped a handful into her mouth, and offered it to Anon.
He grabbed a few.
"You must have been walking for some time, it would have taken me hours to find this many."
"Not too long." She chimed. "The woods were generous this morning."
Chewing on the berries, Anon's face darkened. Her remark had reminded him of the strange wolves.
"Yes, it is troubling." She remarked. "Evil in the Thornhaven woods is not a sign to be taken lightly."
Anon nodded, then did a double take as he realized that he hadn't actually shared his thoughts. It was too late though, Lyra was standing in front of his cart. 
"Looks heavy", she remarked, drawing a pouch from some new fold of her cloak.
"Is that..." Anon asked, completely surprised. The bag looked as though it were woven from shimmering gold.
"A bag of holding." She said, and placing it wide open on the grassy ground, started to toss Anon's belongings into it. He watched his bundles of supplies arc through the air only to be swallowed up by the darkness inside the mouth of the bag.
It took a lot of willpower for him not to say anything.
But then, rather than dissapear the bag back into her clothes, Lrya drew the drawstring and tossed it to Anon. He lept to catch it, and when he did, the material wanted to flow through his fingers like water. He started at the thing in his hands, speechless. It weighed little more than a single gold piece.
"We'll make better time now" she said, munching more berries. "And we'll add the tent after breakfast."
Once they had finished eating, Anon packed up the tent, and cautiously lowered it into the abyss of the bag of holding. It dissapeared without a problem, and Anon went to tighten the string.
"Wait a moment." Lyra said, walking up to Anon. She took the bag from his hands, and shoved her arm in up to the shoulder.
"No, no, no... Ah! Here." She exclaimed, drawing her paw back out. She was holding a leather strap, and the strap was holding a medium sized hand drum.
Anon didn't realize what was happening until the drum was pushed into his grasp.
"I can't" he said, shaking his head and pushing the drum back to Lyra.
She didn't take it.
"Of course you can!" She smiled, moving behind him. She pressed her ear to his back, and made a fist above his ribcage. Her paw thumped him in time with his heartbeat.
"Thum thum thum thum, see Anon, you can carry a beat just fine."
But he grimaced. Thoughts of his brief stint in school band haunted him. A cruel sea of jeering faces, as he stood on stage with his head hung in shame.
The feeling of fur on his hands snapped him out of his reverie. She was hugging him from behind, moving his hands over the tight skin of the drum.
"We'll start slow" she cooed into his ear, and Anon suddenly felt himself a lot more receptive to the idea of himself as a musician.
"one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four..." she bounced his palms across the drum. It was slow, and a little awkward at first, but after a minute or so the beat had steadied.
"There! You're getting it." She whispered into his ear. Anon felt the soft fur of her face on his cheek, the warmth of her form pressed against his back. "Now we make it a little more exciting."
Now she was hitting the drum harder on some beats, softer on others.
"ONE two Three four ONE two Three four ONE..."
It was simple, but surprisingly captivating. Anon's head began to bob in time with the rhythm, he felt a furred foot tapping the ground.
"Perfect! You're a natural Anon!" She laughed happily. She gave him a kiss on the back of his neck, and drew away.
Anon had been infected. The beat thrummed strongly in him even without her guidance, and he bobbed enthusiastically as he pounded the drum.
ONE two Three four ONE two Three four
It didn't even sound half bad.
He watched as Lyra once again drew her lute from the darkness of her cloak, and began to strum a tune in time to the beat.
Anon was bobbing with his whole body now, never breaking time. The simple steadiness of his rhythm lept up from his hands to join the beautiful complexities of Lyra's notes. And he wasn't sure how it was happening, since he was just doing as he was told, but they were talking. He and Lyra were having a conversation together. He was telling her everything about how he felt, how it was all new and exciting and scary, and she was telling him that she was very happy she had wandered into him on a night that already felt like it had happened years ago.
The music came to it's end, and Anon was beaming as wide as the cat in front of him.
"We've got to practice this part" she said, pulling him to her side. She waved her arm elaborately in front of her, and tucked it into her stomach for a bow. Anon followed suit.

Most of the morning chill had faded by time Anon and Lyra were moving. He walked steadily, pounding away at the drum in time with his steps. Lyra was a few paces ahead, merrily strumming at her lute. She was hopping and twirling as much as walking, something which Anon delighted in watching her do, but felt would look rather silly were he the one attempting it.
As they travelled, Anon realized that they were the only souls in the forest. It made sense that the birds would be gone this time of year, but where was everyone else?
But it was hard to brood with such a happy melody filling the air, and Anon soon found the thoughts of worry fading from his mind.
After some time, Anon's stomach reminded him that he was going to need something besides music. He stopped playing, and called out:
"Let's stop for lunch!"
Lyra nodded, and the lute vanished into the confines of her dark purple cloak.
Anon turned to grab the last of his rations from the cart, and paused when he remembered that they had left it behind. Instead, he grabbed the small golden bag from it's place on his belt, and opened the drawstring. The mouth of the bag opened impossibly wide, and Anon stared into it's black depths.
"Um." He said.
"It's easy" Lyra answered, walking over "just reach in."
Slowly, Anon sunk his left arm into the bag. His face twisted in surprise, confusion, disgust, and finally recognition, as he felt through the items in the bag. Fingers landing on ration-packaging, he grabbed the food and hoisted it out.
Lyra laughed softly.
"What else did you find in there?"
"I'm not sure I want to know!" Anon laughed back. He unwrapped the little parcel of food and they sat on the forest floor, munching away at the little dried vegetables and slices of preserved meat.
Lyra spoke first,
"We didn't do a whole lot of talking last night, I'd like to get to know you a little better."
"Ask away." Anon replied, simply. He followed his words by crunching on a stick of carrot.
"Why are you travelling?" Lrya asked. Her head was cocked in a way Anon found adorable. Unable to resist the notion, he reached to scratch behind her left ear, and she leaned into the motion.
"I can't do anything else." He told her.
"Ah, not a talker" she smiled.
"Apologies, I'm not very used to talking about myself." He said, leaning a little furter to switch ears. She seemed to appreciate that. "I grew up in a city to the west of here. My father was a member of the watch, my mother kept the house for him and my eleven siblings."
"Eleven!" Lyra exclaimed. "I thought humans only birthed one at a time!"
"They do, except my mother had one set of twins. My five brothers and I were training to join our father on the city watch. We were taught all manner of things, fighting, cooking, medicine, to serve the city as best as possible."
Lyra's eyes lit with mischief.
"But you're evil." She said, creeping her paw behind Anon's neck. "And you couldn't stand those goody-two-shoes guards. So at the first moment you could, you snuck away to..."
Anon laughed, and she began to scratch his neck. 
"No, nothing so intriguing. To make a difference to someone is the best feeling I know. At first, the training patrols were exhilirating. I was helping people! Defending the city!"
She moved her assault a little lower down Anon's back, and he felt his tension bleeding out.
"Except I wasn't. Not really. There was never any real need of me." He looked into Lyra's eyes, she seemed saddened. "I started to notice the seams. Instructors not paying attention to students. Guards who were supposed to be on patrol, together in taverns or brothels. One day, I didn't even bother to leave home. And you know what happened?"
"What?" She asked.
"Nothing! Nothing whatsoever. And it was worse than any punshment they might have inflicted on me."
Anon had his fists clenched.
"I want to do something important. I want my time here to have meant something to someone. And I couldn't find that there."
Lyra continued her massaging. Anon's fists released.
"I want to make the world a better place, every day. Even just a bit. So, I became a traveller."
It was the truth, and it was something he hadn't ever said out loud before.
Fortunately, Lyra responded in exactly the way he needed her to. She immediately wrapped him in a tight hug.
"I'm sorry" she said "I thought it was going to be gold or glory or something."
"That's alright, I'm happy you asked."

After they finished eating, Anon and Lyra continued towards Thornhaven. It was beginning to grow dark when they emerged from the woods and started passing the scant farmhouses which told them they were getting close. Soon enough, they entered the town proper.
It was a modest town of a few thousand. They survived mainly on locally grown food, and traded in lumber and ore. Preparations for the coming winter were apparent, everyone's woodpile was staggeringly full.
A few people nodded and smiled as the party of two passed. In a place this small and remote, Anon figured that unfamiliar faces stuck out.
Eventually, Lyra stopped and pointed.
"Let's stay there."
Anon followed her extended digit, and caught sight of an enormous tavern. A place that clean was going to run him more than he usually paid.
"I don't think I can afford it, Lrya" he told her, eyes bulging.
"We'll think of something." She replied, dragging Anon by the wrist.
"It's the biggest place here!"
"That's the point!" She told him, eyes twinkling.
Soon enough, Anon found himself inside. It was big and open, made entirely of wood. There was still a bit of light coming in through the windows, but the lamps were already lit. Tables littered the floor, which made the emptiness of the place painfully obvious. A mere handful of patrons were scattered around, nursing their drinks.
"Welcome!" said the tall buck behind the counter "to the Rolling Log! I've not seen you before, are you passing through?"
Of all the adjectives to describe the sleepy tavern, 'rolling' struck Anon as the least likely.
"Hello!" Lyra piped back. "Yes, we're travelling musicians!"
Anon gave her a quizzical look. She nudged him with her elbow.
"Musicians!" Said the buck, his eyebrows raised. "We don't get many musicians here."
"That's one of the saddest things I've ever heard. It sounds like you need us to play something for you." 
Anon's eyebrows were as far up as the bartender's. The buck stood for a moment, looking between them.
"Are you any good?"
Not missing a beat, Lyra whipped the lute from it's resting place inside her cloak and played some sort of energetic introduction. Every face in the bar turned to look at her.
"Well alright then." The buck said. "How much?"
"Just a night's room and board."
He paused, thinking it over. His eyes roamed over his few customers, as if wondering whether a bit of music could make them drink faster.
"Alright, you've got it. But the whole show had better be as good as that little demonstration, or the deal's off."
"Your wish is my command." Lyra winked.

Anon was whispering in a panic as they walked towards the modest wooden stage.
"Lyra! This is crazy!"
"Nonsense, I heard you play earlier, you're great!"
"I was just banging away like an idiot!"
"And that's all music is, really" she smiled, squeezing Anon's arm gently. "You'll do fantastic, I promise."
"No, you just perform by yourself." Anon hissed in desperation. They were at the edge of the raised platform now, and Lyra was pulling herself onto it.
"I wouldn't dream of playing without my partner! And besides," she leaned down to his ear "I really have a thing for drummers."
Her kiss was barely noticable, but Anon quickly glanced around the room anyway. Miraculously, it seemed everyone had picked that moment to be interested in their drinks again.
He looked up at her, sitting on the stage, smiling hopefully at him. Anon knew that if he asked one more time, she really wouldn't make him do it.
Anon sighed.
"Help me up."