Everything happened so fast, from the mob of equine and sheep, to the kindness of a stranger, to the terrifying attack of marauders, the swift and just expulsion of them and two rousing speeches of heroism. Yorik was flabbergasted, coughing up tufts of wool and hay the humble farmer squealed in fright mixed with awe as the bandits were defeated and the village rallied behind the two brave souls who stood before them.

"<cough> Gosh, that fellow can cast spells and wield a blade!" Pointing out the obvious, it wad hard to process much else. Beyond all that had transpired, ethereal flames had just been cast in front of his very eyes, the farmhand could only look upon Jacob as a reliable saviour. With all due respect to the eloquent older gentleman, unless he masked a mountain of muscle and a plethora of weaponry under his robes then the protector of the village was already decided.

After the robed man strode off, having helped to inspire the community to bar their gates and take up arms, this further proved it was Jacob who would be the one to lead the defences, even if he was very much younger.

"Yes sir! I-I'll do my best!" Piped Yorik as he clumsily saluted and sped off to his home to claim his Bronze Spear. Now was the time to test his mettle and lay his life done for the village he loved. As the eager villager approached his home, his visitor, Ross bolted out rushing past Yorik, spinning the young man, again, on his heels.

"Bandits?! Trying to ruin The Great Ross' meal? Nay! Not on this day!" As quickly as he arrived, the hulking Beserker was off, brandishing his Silver Axe with the rest of the rallied villagers. Soon Yorik would join them.