“Well Templars guard mages,” Aurin replied with a smirk towards Imenry with a shake of his head. “I prefer hunting the bad ones though, the tower is a stuffy and at time boring place.” This happened to be especially true of someone that grew up in the confines of its walls.
“From what I can tell, we’ve tracked him to this house. I’ve asked around and apparently it wasn’t abandoned as far as most of the people know. They haven’t seen the farmer or his family for over a week however. This wizard has been running around as a bandit leader for over a month. We only found out about him because there was a survivor of the last raid they made. They have been pillaging merchants for that time, kidnapping small groups.”, Aurin’s words were easy and calm as he spoke towards the woman he had hired to help them track this group down. He paid little attention to the radiating hostility from his partner.
He settled his claymore comfortably on his back before one hand reached up and pulled a his cloak around his broad shoulders. This hid his more sensible armor from the view, and kept the rain off of the metal pieces. The cloak was obviously waterproof from the way the droplets beaded slowly on the dark material before rolling off to join the rest of them on the already wet ground. Instead of the more careful steps of his traveling companion, both Terric and Aurin seemed to plow through the terrain. Puddles, grass, small plants all were crushed by the advance of the pair of holy warriors.
“Lets be off then,” Aurin returned as they all walked. “Like I said, one or two miles to the north. There should be a small trail we can follow once we get out of this place.” A slow smirk grew on his own face as he took a step closer towards the woman as they walked. He lowered his voice to a soft thrum that is meant to carry only to her ears. “Oh later tonight I can suggest more than a few good ways to keep warm myself. I’ll be looking forwards to it later. Don’t worry too much about Terric, he’ll be too busy beating himself for both his and my sins to pay attention. Its not like he already doesn’t disapprove entirely of me and my terribly un-pious ways.”
The walk was as good as Aurin threatened. Finding the trail proved difficult in the persistent rain and mud. Aurin’s firm strides took didn’t falter in the walk, and never once did a complaint pass his lips. Instead distracted himself by discussing sword styles with his companions, curious about the oddly shaped hilt of Imenry’s blade for one. The second Templar seemed to prefer silence, passing most of the trip with an aura of disapproval for the warrior-woman and his fellow Templar apart from a few pointed comments to Aurin about his lack of proper armor.
The farmhouse itself was nestled on a small hill, a ring of a light wooden fence some twenty feet from the house was the only obstacle in sight. The rain rendered the outline of the building hazy and indistinct, but a bright light came from between cracks in the wooden shutters and from under the panel of the door. The walls of the building were made from wooden longs, a small but sturdy encampment with a few donkeys in a makeshift pen that seemed to be hastily attached to the house.
“…well Imenry? What say you on tactics here?” Aurin asked as he regarded the building as rain pelted his cloak and drummed a tattoo on his brother Templar’s armor. “Lure out a few at a time to even the odds first?”