[center][h2][color=silver]The Sorcerer in Glasses[/color][/h2][/center]

    "This is as far as we go, my lord." A gruff voice said, breaking through Marcus's thoughts. He glanced up from the tome he had been reading. The man who had addressed him was a middle-aged man, dressed in clothing denoting him as a merchant. [color=silver]"Excellent."[/color] Marcus replied, shutting his book with a thump. He pocked himself up off of the sack of turnips he had been reclining one and stepped out of the covered wagon. He stowed the smallish tome in a pocket and took a moment to stretch and look around. They were stopped at a crossroads in a lush forest. One road streched onward into the distence, leading north. The other road curved back east. The air was crisp and cool and carried a light chill. Marcus turned to the man, who was shifting nervously, obviously slightly ill at ease. [color=silver]"You have been most helpful, you have my gratitude."[/color] He pulled out a predetermined amount of coins, the merchant picked up on the nonverbal que, and held out his hand, in which, Marcus deposited the coins. A flash of gold tumbled from his hand, and clicked against others of it's kind. [color=silver]"I trust that this will be compensation enough for the ride...and my anonymity."[/color] He said. "More then enough m'lord!" The man exclaimed, surpised by the stranger's generosity.

    For his part, he wasn't sure what to make of the stranger. The merchant, and his fellow, who were traveling in a caravan together on their way to sell some goods at the market were quite surprised when they were flagged down by the man. Here was a richly-dressed stranger with noble features and bearing out in the middle of the wilderness with nary a servant in sight. The merchants had decided he was some estranged lord, and as such, treated him with respect and deference. They were equally shocked when the man had asked if he could ride with them north. "North?" They had asked. "Begging your pardon, m'lord, but why North? Nothing up that way but Brigards, Monsters, and Mercenaries, although you would be hard pressed to tell the difference between them." But [color=silver]"I have my reasons."[/color] was all he would say. Dispite this, they tried hard to persuade him otherwise, until he mentioned that there would be payment. That put the matter at rest. 

    Now, two days later, the merchant's misgivings came back. "Are you sure, my lord? It is dangerous, and has grown even more so! It is no place for--" [color=silver]"A man like myself?"[/color] Marcus interrupted, the man shrinking back, afraid that he had offended him. Marcus chuckled good-naturedly. [color=silver]"You don't need to worry about me, worry about the 'Briguards, Monsters and Mercenaries'. Now then,"[/color] He said, picking up his pack. [color=silver]"I bid you farewell."[/color] Marcus walked off at a brisk pace up the road leading to the north. A few moments have he disappeared from sight, the gold coins turned in bronze. 

   Marcus had no qualms with how he had delt with the merchents. He let them make their own conclusions about his identity, and he used the gold to buy passage, and their silence. No one would want to rat out a nobleman and earn their ire. The gold just added to the illusion, so to speak. He pulled out the book he was reading, and began to read again. Reading and walking was a skill he had mastered. It had taken a few trees, cliffs, and knocks to the head, but he had it down. The book itself was a irritatingly uninformative one. Its subject was on the Dreadlands and its supposed inhabitants, but its accounts were a collection of hearsay and speculation, often contradicting itself. Marcus was in the verge of tossing the book, but it had one thing that all accounts agreed on: DeathKnights. Powerful warriors wrapped in darkness and clad in armor. Reading about them had piqued his interest. He would love to get his hands on one to study it. 

   Fortunately, the rest of his journey was uneventful. At noon, a day after he parted with the merchants, the massive walled city of Starkvale rose into view.  From Marcus's vantage point, he had a great view of the city and but he didn't bother to stop and take in the sights. He quickly descended into the valley below and entered the numerous camps that dotted the land outside the wall.