(Nivansrywyllian, LuxGlyph)

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Sam himself was grinning like a fool as he saw his golems' efforts rebuffed at each turn. This was fascinating. He was sweating by now, and trembling with anticipant energy. When his golems were hurled away from Edison with explosive force, he let out a barking laugh, and pushed himself to his feet. His hand fell away from his bayonet and he wandered up to the fallen fellow, offering his hand down.

"That was good, Edison." He said, still grinning.

The testing had caught the attention of onlookers, and the windows above the cleargrounds were packed with onlookers. A caravan must have been taking up residence in the way station, because many more than the Turleys were looking on. "I haven't seen many people good enough with kinetomancy to go toe-to-toe with my golems. You okay?"

Despite Edison's assurances, Sam had gone harder than he thought was safe for training purposes. His techniques were meant for maiming, disabling, and killing outright, and they didn't translate horribly well to training.
 
Edison's laughs died down after a time, and he let himself just enjoy the result of a good work out. His body hummed with the press of exerted magical energy and Edison was elated to know his time in that hell hole did little to dampen his talents. It was exhilarating.

His heart was finally beginning to settle when he found Sam looming over him, grinning and sounding just as satisfied with their little battle as he was. He returned the grin in kind and took the offered hand and dragged himself up onto his feet again.

"Yeah, fine," He made a breathy laugh, and slid his hand behind his head, brushing off some of the clinging earth, "You really put me through my paces though, I think I'm going to sleep like the dead tonight." He groaned, and rose his hands over his head to give himself a mighty stretch. "You'll have to show me some of your techniques one day while I'm not playing target, your style is brilliant." He grinned again as he turned back towards the tower, not yet aware that they had inadvertently put on a show.
 
"Sure thing," Promised the hunter. "It's all about adaptability. Little pushes. I'll explain more over dinner, and if you've got the energy left afterwards, I'll show you some more." He glanced at the crowd that was moving out of the windows, now that the match was over, and his smile slipped. Sam didn't like crowds.

"I worked up a sweat there. I'm going to go fetch a bucket for washing. Food should be on soon, and the Turleys might need a hand, if you're interested." He said, peeling off to fetch his rifle from against the wall again. He slung it over a shoulder, and the stone of his golems formed up once again, swirling up into the broad mount from earlier, not noticeably diminished from the battle. He slung his rifle over a shoulder, and turned away from the tower.

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When Sam returned, the sun was almost entirely gone from the sky, and stars had begun to appear overhead. His golem had shrunk down somewhat, and a pair of knee-high smaller golems trailed after it. Sam himself looked refreshed, and his dark hair had been released from it's braids, to hang damply around his face.

The internals of the tower's first floor were littered with pack-animals, and hay. Nobody was willing to leave their beasts to the night. A path to the second floor was kept clear by low fencing however, and Sam took it quickly. With his golems in tow, he joined scanned the room for Edison and the Turleys.

In the center of the largest golem's back, -now waist-high- was a crater, filled with dark purple berries.
 
Edison walked with Samuel to the tower, his head tilted up to it as they grew closer to it. He watched until Sam spoke again, and Edison made a face at the idea of offering the Turleys a hand.

"Goodness no. Cooking. God, I couldn't imagine." He grumbled, but he raised his hand as goodbye, taking a moment to watch the man and his golem wader off.

Inside the tower, things were a bit.. noisy. A whole cheer broke out when Edison appeared, and everyone seemed to have an opinion on how he could improve his battle stance.

The entire tower had been converted at some point to house the wanderers of the hard wilds, and everything seemed to have its place. There were even plates available, cooking wear, a small store of dried food - tributes from passing traders. It was one of the better waypoints Edison had been to, and he happily settled near one of the fireplaces, and more happy was he when the travelers began to wander back to their own conversations and left him to listen to the conversation, rather than have to participate.

Soon the dinners were dolled out and everyone broke into their familiar groups, and once more Edison was surrounded by Turleys while he scarfed down the stew.

When Sam appeared again, he wasn't hard to miss - not with the squat golems trailing behind him. Edison turned his attention from a conversation about proper meat prep and lift his head to watch attentively. His attention drew the rest of the Turleys, and Sam was welcomed quickly into the fold - the berries even more so.
 
Sam paused on his way in to offer a sack of berries to the tribute-mantle, before joining his party once again. "We're in luck," He said, "The elderberries are ripe. There were even a few late blossoms to collect, though not as many as I'd have liked." He explained, obviously pleased. "They're good." He added, popping one into his mouth for emphasis.

He fetched himself a bowl of stew, and settled down onto the ground to eat, near Edison. He did so quietly and solemnly, though there was something undeniably pleased about the way he put the meal down.

"Alright," He said, when his spoon clattered into an empty bowl. "I know I said I'd show you more after dinner, but exhaustion's creeping up on me. I'm going to turn in for the night. I'll be up bright and early in the morning though, and I'll show you more on the road." He promised Edison. "Tommen, I'm going to be rousing you all with the sun, and we'll be underway before full light, so get you lads to bed early tonight."

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After making his goodbyes at the common area, Sam and his smaller two golems went up to the third story, where there were places aplenty for napping. He picked a spot with his back to a wall, between windows. The third, with the bowl of berries stayed in the common area for the rest of the men to finish.

He unlimbered his rifle, cleared it of ammunition, and pocketed the bolt before laying down. The largest of the two golems that had broken off of the larger one crept up to form a stone pillow beneath his head. The other spread out in a semicircle of rough stone around him, an early-warning system for the golemancer as he slept.
 
Edison lift a hand and gave a brief finger wiggle to the golemancer while the rest of their crew bunched up and made room for the man and his donation of elderberries. The evening went much like the day - slow and uneventful and full of Turley chatter. Uneventful was good, decent, and it meant that they weren't under attack by the spooks hidden in the wilds, but Edison couldn't help but feel a bit.. on edge.

He was waiting on something, it felt like, and he doubted the feeling would go away until he had lead this crew to their downfall and made his own mad rush west. The memory of that place, that hidden well of darkness, settled right under Edison's ribs, thumping and bumping around, giving him no rest. The exercise between him and Sam had been a distraction to the grandest degree, but now the edges were blurring again, reminding him of where he had been, and where he will be again.

The thought of it made his horns itch.

Sam retired after he finished off his meal, leaving with a promise to show him more in the morning. Edison surrendered without argument, giving him a brief nod and watched him go with a considering gaze, contemplating his own retirement for the night, though he didn't end up sleeping until all the other Turley boys had wandered off and the berry golem ran empty. The fires in the room died down, but Edison kept his running until his exhaustion outran his nerves and he finally dragged himself up to to the third story - the room was crowded with snoring men and women, and Edison picked his way around the bodies until he found an empty mat near the wall where he curled up, tucking under his cloak, and welcomed the exhaustion like a black blanket and he quickly drifted off to sleep.
 
As ever, come morning, Sam was one of the first to rise. His golems formed up with practiced stealth, and he took quick stock of his team. Edison was near one wall, and the Turleys had all fallen asleep in a haphazard pile, although each had a weapon to hand. Re-equipping the bolt to his gun, the young hunter picked his way through the sleeping bodies to make a quick round of the building.

His third golem still rested on the second floor, waiting patiently for Sam to return, it's back having filled in once again with the berries gone. One pair of hunters, two females, were apparently on last watch, and gave him a nod of greeting. Sam nodded back, and began to stoke a cookfire for breakfast. He had some dry provisions, but tea was always welcome on the trail, especially on those cold autumn mornings.

The scent of firewood began to rouse the hunters upstairs one by one, and the first to come down to join Sam was Tommen. The fellow cracked a crooked grin, and grunted in mock-disappointment. "You think I'd learn, wouldn't you. You're always the first up, and you're never the cook." He said, sighing, as he joined the golemancer with his pack.

"You say that every time, Tom. I could try my hand at stew again, if you'd like."

"God preserve us from well-intentioned cooks." Beseeched the mustachioed man. "You leave the cooking to Edlan, and we'll all survive to see this demon castle of yours."
 
Edison could practically feel the room coming alive, setting off his residual senses more and more as more and more people began to toss about, or rise all together. He stirred enough to become aware of Sam and his golems slipping out, just as he had been aware when the watch switched out every few hours.

He opened one eye, then closed it again. He stretched, rolled over, and tucked himself in for another few minutes of sleep.

Less than a half hour had passed when the room grew more active. The smell of burning wood, and perhaps the light of the rising sun, was enough to rouse the sleepy travelers and more and more began to make their way downstairs.

Edison stretched once more, then rallied himself to rise to his feet and twist about, cracking his spine, his neck, and the lot of his phalanges.

The Turley's were rising up together, attempting to untangle themelves from the rats next they've piled into, so Edison quickly bypass them all and headed down the stairs. IT seemed one of them was playing ambassador to the world at the moment, so Edison strolled over to crouch beside the two early birds of their party. "The night has seen to it to let us all live, I see. Grand, a nice meal is in order, I hope." He said at the cusp of a heavy yawn. It crawled out of him before he could continue, "The boys will be down shortly. Sam, you promised to show me your golems properly this morning. I intend to hold you to it." They did not have long together, after all.
 
Tommen Turley grinned as Edison came down looking for food. "Not just yet lad," He said merrily. "Tea's on, but food's some time coming. One of my boys will heat a soup for breakfast. You two go on, and we'll call you for food."

Samuel dipped his chin in a brief nod, and rose from his position next to the fire. "Training it is. Don't call us late for food, Tom," He warned good-naturedly, before making his way down towards the ground floor exit. "We'll make rounds, and talk as we go," He explained, assuming that his quasi-blind companion would follow him.

"The way I fight is always in flux." He explained as the left the stone tower. His golems formed up around him, the biggest splitting in two to make a square of rock-dogs around Samuel, as he approached the treeline. "If one tactic isn't working, I'll switch to another. And another. And another. I'll keep changing until I find something that works. A piece of that is research, of course. If you know your enemy, you won't have to worry about wasting time trying all of your varied tactics, and you can cut right to the quick."

"Another piece of the way I fight with my golems, is research. Engineering. Which structures can support weight? How thick must the limbs be to be able to support the rest of the golem? Where is the failing point for limbs once they've been damaged? How quickly can I mend the damage to the limbs?"

"Occasionally, I will practice finding and refining the attributes of my golems, to allow for the measure of flexibility they have in battle. I study the way water acts, and I implement it. I study the way force is redirected by flat, or domed surfaces, how it is taken more easily by rough surfaces. I study the way drills move through wood, dirt, and stone." He explained, walking briskly as he did.
 
Edison did not hold back the grumble he made at Tommen's comment. He knew breakfast would not begin until the rest were down, but he still felt the need to express his hunger. He expected he would be exceptionally hungry for a few days still - long enough for his body to recover from its deprivation. Or at least long enough to drag it back under control.

He passed on the tea, however, when Samuel revealed to be amiable to training, so Edison dragged himself back to his feet and followed Samuel like a proper shadow.

The morning saw more wet fog and soft chill of approaching winter. It made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end and he wondered if he should have purchased a proper winter coat off of Samuel's gold. Perhaps that might have been pushing it.

Samuel was speaking and Edison perked his attention up, head turned with interest to the man and his words. Any magic took tactics. It wasn't all just blasting and pounding and brute strength. He explained exactly what Edison had seen him do the day before. When something wasn't working, he switched, he observed, and he went for Edison's weaknesses. If they had continued on he might very well have beaten Edison... if he got lucky.

"When did you first learn that you could work with stone?" Edison asked as they walked into the trees, the sound of scattering birds startled from their morning feed by their stroll. Most magic manifests at a young age, but some came later than others, and golemancy was one of the rarer of talents. "How many years have you been practicing your strategies?" He expanded his questions, because such practices that Samuel spoke of were strategies of adept magic users. He was either a brilliant strategist, or someone else taught him well.
 
"I first began to animate when I was about six. I was small, and none of the other children wanted to pick me for any of the sports teams. It's something of a cliche story, I suppose, but I wasn't really upset about it. In any case, I spent a whole lot of my time out of the holdings with my father. He took me shooting, taught me some woodscraft. Taught me about demon-killing."

He paused, running a hand fondly over the nearest stone-golem's head. "One day, I came back with a little dog made of sticks and mud. Father hadn't had any ability to speak of, but he was proud that I had gained such a rare ability. He was certain that I was meant for greatness."

With a sigh, Samuel continued moving through the morning fog. "Keep your senses sharp. You might catch something out here that I can't in this weather." He added, idly. One of the stone dogs vanished into the fog, and another melted into a puddle of pebbles that flowed over the ground before the golemancer, expanding into a quarter-circle dome and racing over the ground in front of Samuel, before disappearing into the fog as well.

"In any case, he began playing war games with me. Pushing me. Making me use my golems in ways I'd never thought they would need to be used. He was a good man. Maybe not a very good father, but a good man all the same."
 
Edison's mouth twitched upward at the image Sam painted of a scrappy boy who'd rather follow after his father than attempt to fit in with the other children. It was a bit dangerous though, taking a child out of the city, but so was most fun things in life and years later Sam was still in one whole piece.

Edison tilted his head away as the world in the fog came alive around them. Scatterings of movement from the forest wildlife - birds, insects, rodents - all active before the sun rose too high and the fog burned away. A deer was caught close by when the golem spread into its puddle and dashed off, rustling sticks and leaves as it went and frightening the deer enough to have it dash away. Edison's mouth twitched upward, "It's quiet, this morning." He answered Sam's intent to keep watch. He wondered if that was normal for the area - if they simply kept a good hold on the population of evil things lurking about, or if there was a reason why they had yet to run nto trouble.

He frowned at the thought, and expanded his field of vision just to be sure, "He taught you well," Edison turned his head back to Sam, "Or at the very least he has instilled in you the drive to learn. Your golems are brilliant." He grinned, but then he paused, and tensed, his full attention moving to the edge of his vision. There had been something - movement - too big to be a rodent, too slow to be a deer, but it was gone quite suddenly, and Edison expanded his vision wider, but nothing appeared again to his senses.

A large bird perhaps? But that didn't feel right. He took Sam's arm and tugged him towards the place that he had felt the disturbance. "Follow me a moment."
 
Samuel nodded his head at the confirmation of his suspicions. Quiet was good. The area didn't have much of a problem with invasive darkness, not with hunters passing through so steadily. That didn't stop the occasional outburst of nastiness from beyond reaching into the territory, however.

"Excellent," He said. "And thank you. I work very hard at staying on top of my studies. I-" He fell silent, as Edison's hand tugged at his sleeve. "Go ahead. I'll be with you." He assured his companion.

He unlimbered his bolt-action, and checked the weapon for munitions, as he moved to follow Edison. It was loaded. His bayonet came next, and he fixed it to the barrel of his weapon, before cradling the thing at an easy rest, muzzle toward the ground. He narrowed his eyes, but he couldn't see anything farther than ten yards away, between the woods, the underbrush, and the morning fog.

His golems weren't sending back any findings either, though all were still active. Unfortunately, their sight was rather limited. Samuel suspected that they saw in a way that was somewhat similar to the way Edison did, only to a much lesser extent.
 
Edison tilted his head towards Sam when the man paused, his words calm and assuring. Edison simply nodded, releasing his morning companion to turn his full attention onto the area that had just caught his attention.

He heard Samuel behind him as he moved forward, the crossbow was pulled from his shoulder, by the sound of it, it's pieces came together as he prepared it for possible fire.

Edison would feel rather silly if he was jumping at birds, but it was always best safe than sorry. His head turned one way, then another, the golems slid along around him, searching with him, but the mass that had flickered so quickly away was not to be found. Edison stopped at the place the object had vanished, but he could not identify any markings or hints that something had been here. He stepped back and looked to Samuel. Sam was the tracker, perhaps he would find signs that Edison could not.

Though, it did not take a hunter's eyes to see the obvious cloven hoof prints, bigger than a deer's, spread across the path.

Just then, Edison jumped, his head snapping further into the woods. Again. Again. Another brief touch of his magic, right at the edge of his vison. He grit his teeth and spat out a curse, "Again, Sam, something's out there."
 
Sam kept his eyes to the relatively small bubble of vision allowed him, and depended on the sensory return from the cone of golems spread out in front of him for any further feedback. He was vulnerable from the air, but fog, and trees largely protected them from an aerial assault. That didn't stop anything from laying in wait in the branches above, but it would be too noisy, and time-consuming to scour every branch with his golems. He'd depend on Edison's senses for any danger that slipped past his golems.

The start from his companion roused Samuel's suspicion, and he dropped into a crouch, dragging one hand along the damp earth to infuse life into the dirt. Pulling living earth into the form of a magical automaton was considerably more difficult than working on something removed from it's resting place, but it was functional. Especially for so simple a task as Sam had for it.

A squat little quadruped with no head, or even any particular definition between front and rear, formed from the ground. It was no larger than a boot, and unstable besides. It went bounding off into the woods, in the direction of the tower.

Sam straightened, and resumed his pace.

He stepped nearer to Edison, his voice low.

"I've sent word to the tower to be on guard. I can't be sure, but I'm inclined to think that we're being lead somewhere. As my golems haven't come across anything but tracks, I'm also inclined to believe that whatever's leading us is being very careful not to be seen. This could be dangerous. If you'd like to head back, I'll take you. The Turleys and I can pick up the trail, and see what this mystery creature is all about."

He paused. "Or you and I can keep on while the trail's hot. I want you to understand that I'm not asking you to do this as part of your job. Your call."
 
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