[center][b][color=ed1c24]Marius[/color][/b][/center][b]“Marius, you’re going up the middle.  Try not to outpace us.  You’re faster than we are.”[/b]  Marius heard the orders of the Shepherd’s commander.  Immediately after Jacob had given his commands, one of the squires rushed forward, holding a lance in his hands.  Once the young man had reached Marius’ side, Marius snatched the lance away from the squire.  Now that he had his lance in hand, his sword at his side, and a few javelins at hand for any skirmishing, if any would happen at all, Marius rode forward, forming what would become the frontline.  However, before he did so, Marius had a few words for Jerod.

“Rogue Feroxians, indeed.  How does it feel that you have to fight the church in order to save the soldiers of Regna Ferox?”  After he spoke, Marius rode off with a smile.  However, that smile was short lived, as before him and his companions were over two dozens of church-supported soldiers, attempting to lay sage to the Longfort.

While he waited for Jerod and Jacob to take their own positions beside him, Marius whispered a quick prayer, audible only to himself and the deity to whom he was praying.  Marius did not wish to spill the blood of fellow believers, but they left him with no choice.  However, Marius saw the twisting and corrupting of Naga’s teachings and beliefs as even worse than shedding these men’s blood.  Therefore, after he had asked for forgiveness on account of what he was about ready to do, Marius sat there on Bucephalus, ready for the order to march forward.

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[center][b][color=FAEBD7]Abra[/color][/b][/center]Abra headed southward, travelling along a path that happened to pass by the Feroxian walls.  Inside her bag was a small necklace that her foster mother had discovered around her neck when Abra was a mere infant.  Besides her name (which was a relief because for the longest time, Abra thought her name came from the magical enchantment), there was on the necklace an insignia of one of the dukedoms of Ylisse.  This dukedom was not as prominent or tied with the royal monarchy in Ylisse, like the Dukedom of Themis was, but it’s a dukedom none the less.  Abra was partially afraid of going, worrying that she would discover that she was abandoned because she was a bastard child or something along those lines.  But where else would she go?

Abra heard some foliage rustle behind her.  Alarmed by the noise, she swung around and scanned her surroundings.  When she saw that there was nothing there, that it must have been the wind, Abra continued forward.

However, before she could take a couple steps forward, two soldiers serving the Church sprung out of the woods and grabbed ahold of her.  Abra tried to pull herself out of the two men’s grasp, but all what she did was struggle in vain.

“So what do we have here?  A Feroxian spy?”  One of the soldiers tightened his grip around Abra’s arm, making her wince.

“I don’t know, she doesn’t look like one of those Feroxian women.  She looks more Ylissean to me.”  The other soldier placed one hand on Abra’s lower jaw, moving her head from side to side in order to get a better look at her face.

“Whatever she is, all we know is that she is stacked like no other.  How is that even natural?”

“Can’t you tell?  She’s a witch.  She probably placed a hex on herself to create that appearance.”  The second soldier began to tie Abra’s hands together with a rope, tightening them so much that they began to dig into her skin, causing Abra to grimace at the pain.  “You know what, since the Feroxians have been giving us quite a fight and our own moral is starting to waver, why don’t we take this beauty here for ‘helping out’ the morale, if you catch my drift?”  The first soldier nodded in agreement.

“You both are perverts!”  Abra screamed, hoping that someone would here, but knowing deep inside that she was doing so in vain.  In spite of her protest, the two soldiers ignored her.  Instead, they just lead her to their horses and made their way back to camp.