Raiding With Ryn (Part 1)

Tobi strolled down the quiet street, his footsteps light yet deliberate. 

The bag slung over his shoulder was heavier than usual, packed with supplies he had bought at the market earlier. 

For the first time in weeks, he wasn't heading back to a cramped inn room or a dark alley to catch his breath.

No, tonight was different. He now had a place he could almost call his own.

After weeks of relentless raiding and scrimping, he'd saved up enough to rent a small house on the edge of Fallowmare. 

It wasn't much — a one-bedroom abode with creaky floors and a faintly leaky roof — but to Tobi, it was a palace compared to the dingy quarters he'd slept in before. 

The rent was paid monthly, and it was all he could afford for now, but it was a step forward.

Pushing the wooden door open, he stepped inside, breathing in the faintly musty scent of aged wood. The interior was modest: a single room that served as a living space, with a small kitchen tucked into the corner. A narrow staircase led up to the bedroom.

Tobi dropped the bag onto the counter in the kitchen, stretching his sore shoulders. The day's work weighed heavily on him, but there was a comfort in knowing he was no longer living day-to-day.

He began unpacking the supplies methodically, setting down fresh vegetables, a bundle of herbs, a small cut of meat, and a loaf of bread. 

Cooking wasn't something he'd done often — his old life had been too busy for anything beyond prepackaged meals — but here, now, it felt right.

He picked up a knife from the block on the counter, turning it over in his hands to test its weight. It was sharp enough, though the handle was a bit worn.

"Alright," he muttered to himself, rolling up his sleeves. "Let's see if I remember how to do this."

Tobi started with the vegetables, laying out a small onion, a carrot, and a couple of potatoes. He sliced the onion first, his movements slow and deliberate. 

The knife made a satisfying sound as it cut through the layers, releasing a sharp aroma that stung his eyes.

"Forgot about that," he muttered, wiping a hand across his face.

Next came the carrot, which he peeled and chopped into even rounds. The potatoes were last, their skins thick and earthy. 

He diced them into small cubes, taking extra care not to nick his fingers.

Once the vegetables were prepped, he turned his attention to the meat. It was a modest cut, marbled with just enough fat to promise flavor. 

Tobi seasoned it with a pinch of salt and pepper, then set it aside.

The small fireplace in the corner doubled as a stove. Tobi lit it, the fire crackling to life as he adjusted the pan above it. A little oil went in first, shimmering as it heated.

Cooking was a slower process than Tobi had expected, but he found himself enjoying it. The smell of onions sautéing in the pan filled the room, mingling with the warmth of the fire. 

He added the carrots and potatoes, stirring them gently with a wooden spoon.

The meat went in last, the sizzle loud and satisfying. Tobi watched as it browned, the fat rendering into the vegetables to create a rich, savory aroma. 

He sprinkled in some of the herbs he'd bought at the market, crushing them between his fingers to release their oils.

"Not bad," he said, leaning back to admire his work.

The meal wasn't elaborate, but it felt meaningful. Every step had been deliberate, every ingredient chosen and prepared by his own hand.

Tobi grabbed a plate from the cabinet and spooned the food onto it, the portion generous enough to satisfy his hunger. 

He set the plate down on the small wooden table in the center of the room, grabbing a fork and knife before taking a seat.

For a moment, he simply sat there, staring at the plate. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

"It's just food," he told himself, though there was a lump in his throat.

The first bite was hot, the flavors bursting across his tongue. The onions were sweet, the carrots tender, the meat rich and seasoned just right. 

Tobi chewed slowly, savoring every bite as though it were his last.

######

Tobi wiped his hands on a cloth, leaving the plate and utensils to dry near the basin. He glanced at the cloak hanging by the door, its dark fabric still slightly frayed from his last venture into the forest. 

With a deep breath, he grabbed it and swung it over his shoulders, the familiar weight settling across his back.

Next, his hand moved instinctively to the sword resting against the wall. Its worn hilt felt natural in his grip as he slid it into the sheath strapped to his belt. 

The blade wasn't flashy, but it was dependable — just like Tobi needed to be.

Stepping out into the crisp afternoon air, he took a moment to adjust to the fading light. The streets of Fallowmare were quieter now, with only a few scattered voices carrying through the narrow alleys.

Tobi pulled the hood of his cloak up and started walking toward the forest on the edge of town, his boots crunching against the dirt path.

The forest had become a second home to him over the past weeks. Its winding trails, rustling leaves, and lurking dangers were familiar now. 

Each trip into its depths brought new challenges, but also new rewards. Tonight, he intended to gather more loot and perhaps take down some higher-level monsters.

As he approached the forest's edge, Tobi heard quick footsteps behind him. He didn't stop walking but placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, ready for trouble.

"Boss!" a voice called out.

He turned, spotting Ryn jogging toward him. The younger boy was clad in the same simple leather armor he'd worn the first time they'd met and a cloak as well, his face slightly flushed from running.

"What are you doing here?" Tobi asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ryn stopped a few feet away, catching his breath. "I was waiting for you to leave the house. Figured you'd head out to the forest again."

"And?"

"And I want to join you," Ryn said, standing a little taller. His voice was steady, though his eyes betrayed a hint of nervousness.

Tobi studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You're not ready for the forest," he said finally.

"I can fight," Ryn protested. "I've been practicing since the last time we went out. I'm faster now, and I know how to pick my targets."

Tobi shook his head. "It's not just about fighting. It's about surviving. The forest doesn't forgive mistakes, Ryn. One wrong move, and it's over."

"I know," Ryn said, his voice quiet but firm. "But I'm tired of sitting around."

The determination in the boy's voice gave Tobi pause. He remembered the first time he'd ventured into the forest alone, driven by the same hunger to save his sister. 

He'd been scared, but he'd done it anyway.

"Alright," Tobi said at last. "But you stay behind me, and you follow my lead. No heroics. Understand?"

Ryn nodded quickly, a small smile breaking across his face. "Got it."

"Good." Tobi gestured for him to follow, turning back toward the forest.

The two walked in silence for a while, the sound of their footsteps mingling with the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows across the path.

"Why the sudden urge to join me?" Tobi asked, breaking the silence.

Ryn hesitated for a moment before answering. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said... about building something bigger than just yourself. I want to be part of that. But I don't want to just tag along — I want to contribute and help my sister as well."

Tobi glanced at him, the boy's face illuminated by the fading light. 

There was no hint of fear in his expression, only resolve.

"You've got a lot to learn," Tobi said.

"I know," Ryn replied. "That's why I'm here."

They reached the forest's edge, the trees towering above them like silent sentinels. Tobi drew his sword, the blade glinting faintly in the dim light.

"Stick close," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

Ryn nodded, pulling out a small dagger from his belt.

Together, they stepped into the forest, the shadows swallowing them whole.