12:03 PM / 10 . 12 . 110 / lostrook lake
Living in the Vales had taught him a few things. The first had been that accepting work in Lostrook was bound to give him more bruises than anything else. The terrain was rough, and required him to leave Fruit at a safe outpost that was nearly too far away to be comfortable. All of the paths were too tight for a horse, let alone one trained for war and the muscle to boot.
The Lance of Ruin was still ever so close, at least.
And yet it provided no comfort as it hummed at his back. He sighed as he slowly made his way down the winding path, gazing distantly at his destination. The lake was said to have been having some monster troubles lately. Something something an ugly beast, close and long range attacks.
There had been no ideas as to what it was, but Sylvain had faith in his abilities nonetheless. The beach was calling his name, as dour a scene as it may be. He pointedly ignored the crunch of sand under his boots, the clack of his armor, the persistent hum of the Lance as it was drawn and held in front of him.
What was more telling was the shadow, just at the edge of the water. The sound of bones crunching under sharp teeth. He didn't make it 10 paces before all hell broke loose.
Pandora always thought it was funny, and suddenly the Lance was falling from his grip in an attempt to catch a very familiar shock of blue and anger. The creature at the shore whipped its head, spiked tail flipping and gracefully launching a spike of sorts in their direction. Quickly as he could, the redhead moved to cover the man in his arms. It lodged into his shoulder, piercing through his armor and dragging a curse out of him.