[center][h3][i]M a r c u s   R o m a n[/i][/h3][/center]
[sub][sub][h3][i]Armistice - Eastern Gate - 500 HP[/i][/h3][/sub][/sub][hr]
	The lack of an audible clanging of metal invited as uneasy quiet for the still adjusting Marcus as he slowly made his way towards the eastern gate. Almost comfortably sandwiched between his armored escorts, the now ex-dungeon resident could not settle his mind on one concrete matter or another, his gaze peering at two feet moving free of shackles and genuinely curious as to why his wrists felt light in spite of the plate around them. The slurred sounds of words trying to reach his ears brought green eyes up and once more focused on the collection of bodies willingly gathered to give their lives in exchange for absolutely nothing from the ICC. Indeed, this was the reality Marcus now faced. 
	
	The royal guard stopped short seeming to signal that this was as far as they were going to approach. Their escort stood straight and stretched his back a bit before taking the first solo steps he could remember reaching back two years. This joyful moment was complimented with a lazily energetic middle finger that forsook the company of a quick glance; Marcus did not care to see the blank reaction of an armored face to a daring, profane gesture. Even if it was delusion, this was his moment of freedom and he would be damned if anyone was going to make him do anything in the open air and crowded streets of the city--hell, he was not going to be made to do anything anywhere ever again. This rush of false hope and prospect was abruptly aborted however as the ex-knight laid his weary pupils on a clearly marked ICC representative. One could always tell them apart from the common folk because the members of the ICC were forever adorned in jeweled necklaces of ornate design and a platinum ring with a specific insignia. This particular one was unmistakable though because it was a man Marcus was plenty familiar with. 

	A deep sigh of exasperation lamented the sight of the ICC so soon after finally tasting freedom, but it was an inevitable annoyance. Marcus sauntered through the group and took his place on a wall partly being occupied by a somewhat odd looking woman dressed equally as strange--metallic loops, leather, bodily markings, and sipping tea to boot. A stifled expression muttered something unintelligible before the larger man cautiously claimed his own piece of the wall with adequate space between himself and his unknown neighbor. He folded his arms and thought about pulling his hood before promptly changing his mind. The government knew he was here with the rest of them considering he was being forced to accept this quest so it would have been rather stupid to pretend to hide--though the hood could have done wonders against any stealthy gazes from the woman nearby. Even presented with this rather serious option, Marcus still decided against it and wrinkled his face in disapproval at the speaker who finally came to address the now complete traveling party. 

	"Ahem," The speaker looked over each and every one of his volunteers as he cleared his throat. He was unimpressed. "I am Representative Aldaran and I embody the interests of the Intercontinental Coalition. The choice you have made today will be etched into the hearts and minds of those the world over and all shall remember your names as you go forth and venture into the mouth of evil itself to bring back humanity's salvation! [i]You[/i] are the warriors who will defeat the scourge of this disease of magic and allow future generations to prosper as they never have before! Though your journey will be long and difficult and some of you will undoubtedly fall in service to your country, rest assured your families will be taken care of and rewarded handsomely for these unequivocal deeds! I have come to personally see you off myself and provide you with transportation, rations, and a map which will aid you on your journey to the ruins of the Temple." Aldaran cleared his throat once more and made his through the gate. 

	Looking at the man again reminded Marcus of how much he hated him. Aldaran was an older man, obviously of noble birth by the way he walked and supremely confident in his actions by the way he bellowed. His face was long and thin, beset by deep wrinkles, though his eyes seemed too sharp for a mere politician underneath meticulously combed back grey hair. He wore long robes of white, gold, and violet and wore shoes that most knights could not even dream to afford. He pulled his hands behind his back as he regally strolled through the tall and wide stone pillars that formed the gate and took a place next to the thing he now presented with an outstretched hand--two, dual horse drawn wagons stood side by side on the dirt road. "These carriages have specific instructions to take you to the Temple ruins by the fastest, and safest, route possible. Once you arrive, the carriages and rations will be your own responsibility as well as any further travel. Your government thanks you for your service once more and we wish you a safe and victorious return." With that said, Aldaran quickly shuffled back through the gates. 

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[sub][sub][h3][i]Azra - Public Roads - 500 HP[/i][/h3][/sub][/sub][hr]
	Marcus sipped the last of his ale and twisted the cap tight on his flask. He remembered watching the sun rise, fall, and rise again and the wagons still seemed to roll down an endless road with nothing but meadows and tree line on both sides. There were mountains in the far distance and Armistice was much smaller than it used to be to the rear, but the fidgety man was bored to death sitting in place. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back against the side of the wagon and looked upon his new comrades. He would need to get to know them sooner or later anyways since they would be traveling together. "So... What the hell made you want to die so badly, eh?" He asked to anyone in his cart. He secretly hoped the weird woman from the wall would ignore his inquiry. The air around here felt strange to the criminal for some reason.