---

---

“Do you think she’ll be alright?”

“Who?”

“Paladin Chayre.”

Two young men were knee deep in stable muck, meticulously braiding the tails of great white horses. One was dark haired and sour faced, while the other was blonde and burst into laughter.

”Paladin Chayre! My gods, that was a good one. You - oh, you weren’t joking?”

The serious expression on his companion’s face told him as much. The man coughed into his fist to compose himself while the other stablehand went on.

“I know she’s strong, but I heard the other paladins talking. They said it was a wild goose chase…”

The blonde man shrugged, turning his eyes back to the task in front of them. Two locks of horse hair in each hand - over, under, over, under. “Remember when she bested Paladin Kouch in a mounted race even though he’s the fastest rider in the Midlands?”

“That’s not really the same.”

“Remember when she cleared the whole hillside of monsters when everyone claimed they bred too fast to be rid of?”

“...”

The stablehands worked in silence for a while after that. By the time it was past noon and the sun was just starting it’s descent, a dozen horses had their tails neatly tied. They flicked them lazily and waited for the men to start on their manes. The stablehands inspected their work for a few moments. Some weren’t braided as tightly as they should have been, but the flies were starting to swarm about the animal pens and the summer heat wasn’t going to let up any time soon.

“I hope that thing she’s chasing is fake.”

“Why’s that?”

“Would you really want her around to tell us to start over? ‘You are disgracing the Cathedral with such lazy braiding!’ Bah, I can imagine that all too well. The longer she's away, the better!”

So it was that the paladin found herself away from the Capitol and on the cusp of the Midlands, on a dusty road that ran through a field of wild grass. In her hand was an old parchment map, with a vague drawing of a stone castle and a heading of North. The priests in the Cathedral hypothesized that “the artifact,” an unknown phenomenon that could allegedly heal any ailment, could have belonged to some ancient civilization and was lost after the Godking unified the country.

That must be why we have so little information about it. Only tales, one priest shared with Eliza while she was preparing for her journey. Whether this was true or false, it mattered little. All that mattered was that a paladin was entrusted with a mission to find this artifact, and she would see this mission through.

The oldest ruins in Sedaia were dotted throughout the Highlands and the Snowlands. All kinds of old things slumbered there; cultures, magi, beasts. Where other regions saw their history ploughed and planted over, the rougher terrain of the Northern reaches of the country preserved through the sheer inconvenience it would have caused men to try and tame it.

A cart passed Eliza by, rumbling down the dirt path and shifting dust into the air. From the back of the wagon three pairs of feet dangled. A man with a cloth over his face, and two women - one older and one younger. The girl waved at Eliza as they passed.

---

---

Every first hand account of the “Woodard Plantation Monster” was different. The creature was huge, but human sized. It had glowing eyes, or sunken ones, or no eyes at all. It had rows of razor sharp teeth and sometimes even three mouths full of them. It was bipedal but walked on four legs more often. It had huge claws and wings and claws for wings.

It also had two heads. Sometimes.

However, there was one consistent feature about the monster through every report.

It was so terrifying that the entire plantation’s staff was threatening to quit.

“The worst part is the staff is spreading the nasty news around,” Kalar Woodard growled from behind his desk. “Every new hire gets scared off as soon as they arrive. If the whole staff quits I’ll lose hundreds of gold in produce before I can replace them all.”

Woodard stroked his mustache as he regarded Cassius at his estate, all those days ago. His frown was deep, but his pockets were deeper and he set a large bag of jingling coins on the dark wooden desk. He raised an eyebrow at his newest mercenary.

“All the men I’ve hired to hunt the monster have run off too. I hope you’ll find this payment very generous Mr. Vance. I’ll send you to the Croplands with a portion of it, and the rest will be waiting for you here when you bring back good news for me.”

Perhaps the fact that Woodard hadn’t even entertained the idea of an “if” weighed on Cassius’ mind as heavy as the coins weighed in his purse as he neared the last leg of his trip across the Scrublands. Cropland Pass was a popular destination in the summer, and this area of the country was crowded with people of all types. There were nobles on holiday heading towards their second properties in the Croplands, as well as peasants from all over Sedaia intending to maintain those properties for pay. It was a system that seemed to work, but even the largest of farms only had need for so many people. By late summer it was a competition to get hired for the lowliest positions, let alone farm or house work.

Most people were heading South just as Cassius was, filling the road ahead with chatter. Some we headed the opposite direction with their possessions strapped to their back and haunted looks in their eyes.

“C’mon, hurry hurry! We don’ wanna get stuck workin’ the pig pen!” A stocky woman brushed past the monster hunter, dragging a scruffy man behind her. As they hurried away, more of their conversation drifted over the talk of the crowd.

“If yer that worried we can jus’ go t’one of the bigger places, they’re always hirin’. Eastern part o’the place got lotsa big farms. Grupeir place, Baker place, Wood--”

“Not that last one! My cousin’s friend’s brother said his cousin worked nearby the Woodard place and they got some huge animal tearin’ the place apart!”

“Oh, yer cousin’s friend said that?”

“No, my cousin’s friend’s brother, y’know the tall skinny one? Actually I dunno if ya would’ve met him...”

Their words tapered off the farther away they got, but their conversation had already steered itself into vague family drama. News of the monster had indeed spread, but to think it had made it out of the Croplands entirely…

People continued to fill the road and the space around it before eventually spreading out through the Cropland Pass. Although the town's entrance was congested, the crowd parted for a few people from time to time. A girl who seemed to be traveling alone, and a young man with a hoe secured to his back to name a few. And though most also parted for Cassius after a glance at the sword strapped to his hip, some refused to give up their spot in line at the gate. Two men took up space just waiting there, their eyes leering after every young girl that was heading out of town.

---

---

It wasn’t exactly an extravagant send off, but still a small crowd gathered around Nea on the dawn of her departure from the estate. The kitchen staff she’d worked closely with pressed dried fruit, herbs, and roots into her palms and whispered well wishes into her ears. Housekeepers smiled and gossiped about the reasons Nea could be leaving them, but passed her sturdy hand me down cloths all the same. A few of the field workers even stopped to say their goodbyes, clapping the girl on the back or shoulder and asking for promises to return soon.

One boy about Nea’s age quickly stuffed a ripe, round grapefruit into her satchel. He put one finger to his lips to plead the girl’s silence, then slipped away and back to work. The fruits of Karstein’s orchard were good quality, but there was so little opportunity for his own staff to savor them. It was only right that Nea get one last taste, and the other people gathered turned their eyes away just this once.

“Ahem.”

The estate’s manager and head servant approached, quieting the chatter. After a few moments, the old man cleared his throat again and gave a pointed glance to each and every person gathered, finally dispersing the staff and leaving only Nea and himself at the property’s edge. It was a beautiful piece of land, with greenery as far as the eye could see. High topiaries in the shape of serpents stood tall over the two of them, their leafy faces pointed out as if to watch Nea as she left.

“You’ve done good work here.”

It was as much of a compliment as the younger servants ever got from Mr. Nathaniel. The man handed her a small pouch of money, nodded to her, then turned away and went back into the manor.

That had been two days ago. Karstein’s estate was on the further edge of the Croplands, but travel within the region’s borders was quick and constant. Farmhands moving from estate to estate, merchants picking up supplies to peddle, nobles traveling to and from their own spacious properties to that of neighboring ones to gloat and gossip. There were always two or three wagons on the road willing to trade a ride for some company.

One such small caravan ushered Nea and a couple of others out of the back of the cart at the turn-around just outside of Cropland Pass.

“If you’re going far, make sure you stick to the main road!” The wagon driver called out. A couple of the passengers waved the man off, gripped their packs tightly and headed straight out of town. Croplands Pass was just as lively now as it was two years ago when Nea first arrived there. Just as before, there were more people heading into the region than out, and this time Nea found herself in the latter group.

There were a couple of others headed away from town. A blue clothed man carrying a hoe, who fit right in with the crowd. A couple of scruffy looking men, who didn’t. Men armed to the teeth walked the other way, most likely more mercenaries hired to clear out problem areas to make room for more farmland.

It was a warm, clear day. A cold grunt cut through the hum of voices, and a hand landed on Nea’s shoulder. One of the scruffy men from just before had a loose hold on her, and his partner pushed off from a post and started making his way over.

“Where you headed?” The man gruffed.

---

---

Well, that had been a bust.

The capital city had little to offer Ori other than food, drink, games, music - okay, it had a lot to offer the young man. Nothing he needed, though.

Nothing that would save his life.

Haydrin’s Seat was deep in preparation for the Celebration of Kings. Vendors of all kinds were running sales and less than eager to speak with anyone that wasn’t a customer. Students and scholars in the area were taking a break from their learning and drinking in all kinds of mead rather than words on a page. Even the members of the Cathedral, usually so welcoming, were harried with requests from locals and visitors to the city. Where the clergy shied away from Ori’s talk about a bloodline curse, offered him condolences, advised him to make peace with his life and ultimately turned him away… the Hungry Sow Tavern welcomed him with open arms.

So did the Drunken Hound, the Whistling Dragon, and the Old Oak.

Public officials gave Ori unhelpful platitudes, while pub patrons handed him interesting information of all kinds. People were friendly, handsy, talkative. Even the most sullen of drunks couldn’t help but be infected by the holiday cheer spreading through Haydrin’s Seat. Men and women sighed rumors into Ori’s ears, drew crude maps on his palms with their fingers.

You have to eat the heart of a dragon, one said. Actually it’s a phoenix heart, someone else corrected.

There’s a tribe of people in the South that still use the cursed magic, a woman whispered with a nervous glance at the guardsman at the bar.

I heard there was a spring in the Tidelands that could heal wounds just by bathing in it, an older man said. He leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin. My mother told me that story. Probably isn’t true, though.

Eventually the stories were repeating themselves, and alcohol all started tasting the same. It was time to move on.


“There, that’s everything. Let’s get going. Jona, can you take the reins?”

“Sure, momma.”

A scrawny boy patted the side of the family horse, a painted mare, as he climbed up into the driver’s seat of their wagon. His mother, a tall woman with braided blonde hair trailing down her back, lifted her daughter into the cart’s back. The girl’s leg was bandaged, but otherwise she seemed excited for a journey.

She turned to Ori and smiled at him softly. Even through the cloth bind covering his eyes, she knew he could see her expression.

“Let us give you a ride Ori. It’s the least we can do to repay you. Please.”

The woman’s words were earnest and hopeful, although she left room for Ori to refuse her offer. Her daughter peered after the blind man, and her stare was less compromising. It was a look that clearly said “I’ll never forgive you if you don’t come along with us,” and so Ori found himself traveling Westbound out of the Midlands.

“The Scrublands get so hot this time of year,” the matriarch sighed, fanning herself with one hand.

“Where are you going next Ori?”

“It’s not polite to ask personal questions like that.”

“Aaaw, momma!”

Mother and daughter sat in comfortable silence after that, but it didn’t last for very long. The older woman hummed softly just before speaking again.

“We’ll be happy to take you anywhere you want to go, though. Or part of the way at least, if it’s very far.”

Beside them, the daughter listened in but was already more interested in what was around them. Her eyes grew wide as they passed a woman in armor. “A knight,” she whispered to herself, waving at the knight.

---

---

The dull crackle of fire. The shaking of dead seeds in a carefully blown glass jar.

A bone deep sigh echoed around the camp.

“You old timers sure like to sit around feeling sorry, hm?”

Various eyes turned toward the man seated by the bonfire. He was young, strong, and this wasn’t the first time he attracted looks of annoyance. In the face of their squinted gazes, the man merely raised a bushy eyebrow.

“I’m right,” he stated.

It was the middle of the day, but the campfire was still lit since one of their own left just before dusk the day before. In the Scorchlands, it was safer to travel by night in the summer. Roaming monsters were dangerous but uncommon - the sun was an ever present threat. Tazia’s heat took life just as easily as her light gave it.

People approached the fire every now and then, throwing what little they had to spare into it. A tradition to pray for the safety of their missing member. They threw scraps of food to wish her well fed, herbs for luck, small chunks of mineral for protection. They all ignored the haughty man lounging on the dried earth. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Of actually doing something.”

“Chapa, thinking? I don’t believe it.”

A woman so old it looked to be a miracle she could still move laughed at her own joke, and those within earshot laughed with her. Slowly, she moved toward the small pile of flames and dropped a misshapen stone into it.

“We were all scared. To leave our home behind, but we did it. Then we were scared to leave our family, but Kendra dispersed that fear for us. She is a brave woman who needs our support. Send positive thoughts to her, instead of spreading negative ones around here.”

The man, Chapa, pinched his eyes closed and sighed out through his nose. He flopped onto his back with a dark tint to his cheeks. After a few moments he opened his eyes and stared into a cloudless blue sky.

“I’m already worried about her.”

“We all are.”

Upon the crest of a hill, a wide open plain spread out in front of Kendra. Short, dry clumps of grass dotted the land, and further in the distance shrubs and bushes grew large and squat. Even further, short trees could be seen. The Scrublands weren’t all that dissimilar from the Scorchlands, especially in the areas where they bled together. The whole of the region was available to Kendra, wherever she decided to go.

Scorchland Pass was just a small trading post, and unlike most of the other “Passes” in the Scrublands, not every path ran through it. Perhaps that was the reason it was so small in the first place. It did provide valuable food and drink to travelers through the desert though.

Kendra’s horse snuffled idly at the ground. After only a night’s travel, it was still in good condition and waiting it’s rider’s order. On horseback, traversing the Scrublands wouldn’t take long at all - at least, in some directions. Stretching nearly the entire length of Sedaia, the region was long but it would give her access to the rest of the country.

The answer lies beyond us, a vision told one of the elders of Kendra’s village. This premonition wasn’t distressing news, but the opposite. There was a way to bring life back to their native land. Even if the answer was far away, it existed, somewhere out there.

Everyone that helped load supplies onto Kendra’s horse had a different theory for her. Some suggested she try the Cathedral in the capital, hoping that some higher power would have the solution. Naturally, others strongly recommended against this. Gods or not, the Midlands was home to many people with powerful minds, wallets, and influences.

Of course, there were also those suggested - somewhat bitterly - to go after that mining company that invaded Tailend and started this mess in the first place. Where that group operated from was unknown to the Scorchlanders, but they certainly spoke like Northerners.

A shadow passed overhead, accompanied by a sand eagle’s screech.

---

---

Far away from Talanashta’s lonely tower, the Croplands were bustling with travelers. In the town right outside her abode, people smiled politely at the mage but otherwise avoided her. On the road, most strangers did the same. Tala’s long hair, strange robes, and avian company had many thinking that she must have been a noblewoman of some kind.

Of course, when she stopped to ask directions the situation changed, and people stumbled over their words in their eagerness to point Tala in the right direction.

More than once passing carriages pulled up alongside Tala, and actual noblemen peeked out from inside to inquire about the bird she carried on her shoulder.

Wicket was a gorgeous animal, but if birds could growl he surely would have whenever the envious eyes of wealthy men swept over his golden plumage. Needless to say, each and every prospective buyer went on their way Wicket-less.

It took a few days of travel up and down the region, but eventually Tala arrived in what might as well have been the largest city in Southern Sedaia: Cropland Pass. It was only through the goodwill of passersby that Tala made it here, but she was here nonetheless. Currently she stood in the center of town, near a large signpost with angular shaped wood pointing in dozens of directions.

There were people all around, moving with purpose. Most were coming from the direction of the massive gate separating the Croplands from the Scrublands, but there were a few headed out as well. On the edges of the streets, there were a relative handful of inns, an armful of taverns, and a barrelful of merchants trading goods with each other and the general populace. Though most were selling the early summer produce of the year, some sellers with clothes the likes many Croplanders had never seen were peddling fabric, jewelry, and animal parts. Children screamed and laughed, family dogs barked and horses brayed, customers haggled loudly and a merry band played music out of sync.

It was lively. Maybe even a bit overwhelming. Thankfully the commonfolk gave Tala space, preferring to brush shoulders with each other rather than risk the wrath of an eccentric lord that preferred travel by foot.

Of course, now that Tala had made it here to Cropland Pass… the question was where was her next destination?

It had been a long time since Tala liberated Wicket from his captors. Wherever the smugglers had come from, as well as their destination, was information Tala had no way of knowing now. Perhaps it was time to consider her options. There was no shortage of people leering at the beautiful hawk perched on Tala’s shoulder, maybe those that were in the market of buying animals knew where they were sold from. There were also plenty of men and women that looked well traveled: traveling salesmen, nomads here for summer work, and many mercenaries stuck at the gate waiting to get in. It was possible any of them knew what Wicket was, and where he came from.

“What in tarnation do you mean we musta missed her?”

“Look, by the time we finally found the damned place again, she - “

“Look nothin’, if you lot don’t find that woman soon, I’m gonna drag y’all to the Afterrealm myself!”

---

---

The sound of pleasant humming filled the little swamp hut. It was mostly wooden, with an outer layer of mud and clay that formed a domed roof where moss clung, blending the house’s silhouette into the forest around it. The home was even partially sunken into the murky water, but nothing stank or molded inside - at least in places the woman didn’t want it to. There were some uses for a good mold, after all.

Usually there was a rudimentary bridge connecting the mage’s hut to the nearest piece of solid land in the Great Swamp, but today it was mysteriously gone. The woman - dark eyed and short haired - closed herself into her home a few hours before.

Sometimes her humming transformed into song. She softly mouthed the lyrics of a spoken poem from a bygone era, swaying back and forth in the small kitchen that doubled as her work space. For once the sun was shining bright on the Lowlands, and the light cut through the canopy overhead and into the house. It was a warm day, same as yesterday, but it was never unbearable there in the Northern parts of the region. Fragrant flower buds lay on wooden countertops, joined by pungent leaves and the corpses of small animals.

“I have such a good feeling about today,” she sighed to herself. Last night, as comets passed over the Great Deer constellation, the swamp mage had a vision. A premonition, even. A big, bumpy, brown bullfrog inhaling a rush of water, and swallowing its own tadpoles as it did so.

Though she couldn’t say for sure whether it was a sign for caution of celebration, the vision pleased her all the same.

“It is my favorite time of year when the spirits fall to the Earth. Lots of potential. For good things, for bad things.” The woman gingerly lifted a raven’s skull, cooing at it as if it were an old friend. “Let us check in, hmm~?”

Gently, but firmly, she took the skull in both hands and pressed in until the bone snapped and crumpled in her grip. She set the pieces down in a dull ceramic dish, and repeated the crushing motion with a speckled grey egg. The yolk ran yellow and red over her fingers and down until it settled on the bone fragments below. The woman’s face was serene. She smiled and returned to humming as the contents of the dish slowly began to move.
Before Derrick stood a truly insurmountable task. It was an obstacle that separated the the heroes sung about in ballads and the wannabes. A place that put many great men to shame, sending them home with their tails between their legs.

A crossroads.

Well, to say the place where Derrick stood was a true crossroads was disingenuous. On his right was the path out of the Lowlands that everyone took. It was well worn; the divots of carriages gone by prevented the grass from reclaiming the trail anytime soon, and what trees that could be culled had been a long time ago, making the road seem more friendly and spacious. To Derrick’s left was the beginnings of a thick, imposing forest. For anyone else, it would be impassable. However, for those few Lowlanders that spent their lives weaving in and out of the dense swamps it might be possible to cross. Derrick was one such Lowlander.

The swamp witch laughed when she told Derrick about the troubles of peasants that came to visit her. The more powerful people knew better, and it was only as a last resort that they came to her part of the swamp. When they talked about great beasts, she passed the information along to the Scourge. Aftering fighting through what the Lowlands had to offer, Derrick had a few leads outside of the region: a cryptic beast terrorizing the Croplands, where he could quickly arrive if he cut through the forest, a great serpent spotted on the coast of the Tidelands, moving in closer every day, and the exodus of monsters throughout the Scorchlands.

There was no easy way to tell which claims were true or not, or how old they were without seeing for himself: the woman never shared that with him.

Birds squawked at the monster slayer from both directions.

---

---

The last few days were hard. When Vashen convinced everyone that Kayliss was a national threat that needed to be eliminated, no one questioned it. With the Celebration of Kings so close, the royal family decided not to panic the civilians with the thought of a dangerous traitor in their midst - but even so, the search for Kayliss was just short of a public manhunt. Guardsmen, royal knights, and Kayliss’ fellow spies were swarming Haydrin’s Seat in pursuit of the woman they’d worked alongside for years. It seemed like every street hawker had a guard in his shadow, and under every festive lantern was the ornate helmet of a knight.

The capitol was covered, but any good sneak knew there would always be a few stones left unturned.

“Is that fuckin’ Kayliss?”

One such stone was the performing troupe of one Baldrick Fisher. They were a hard group to pin down, with a member size and base of operations that constantly changed. It also didn’t help that the only crime that stuck to them was public nuisance, so keeping track of the group was considered a low priority. Despite that, many peacekeepers were convinced that behind their badly put together music acts, they were a cunning group of thieves and con artists with branches that reached well outside of the Midlands… but with only coincidences, no hard evidence, it gave the “Fishermen” the freedom to move about Haydrin’s Seat.

Yes, they were hard to find - but Kayliss was a professional.

Was.

“Wow, it is. Heard through the lilaberry vine that every tinhead in this place is after you.”

The duo of men snorted with laughter as they took in the pitiful sight of a woman on the run. As far as master thieves went, these two actually looked like stereotypical fishermen - wide hats, light clothes, poles held loosely in their hands and a bucket of dead insects between them. The river that ran through the edge of town was an odd spot to cast a line, but fish did swim the waters, and it wasn’t unheard of that a man could catch his dinner there. Kayliss knew better, though.

“Sorry hun, we ain’t hiring right now.”

“Plus we don’t do business with wanted criminals.” The irony of the first man’s statement brought a smirk to his companions face. “What’d the King ever do to you anyway?”

It looked like the two shady friends had more zingers lined up, but the stone wall behind them shifted. One of the stones sunk away, disappeared, and was replaced by a pair of curious - if mildly annoyed - eyes. When these eyes landed on Kayliss, they widened in surprise. From behind the stone came a muffled voice:

“Is that fucking Kayliss?”
You want out, I can help you.

Kayliss was ushered into the hidden space behind the wall, dark save for a single sconce far down the tunnel.

I know a guy or two with the skill set you need.

At the end of the cramped walkway, there was a dimly lit elliptical room. Men and women lounged inside, tuning their instruments or otherwise making idle chatter. When Kayliss was brought into the light, they all grew silent.

But it ain’t gonna be free.

At the back of the room, a large bearded man slowly stood up from behind a table that was much too small for him. He was someone that Kayliss would recognize as Baldrick’s lieutenant, and he gave the recently unemployed spy a broad smile.

This is what we need you to do.

That was then, and now Kayliss was stowed away in the back of a family’s covered wagon, on a long dusty road accompanied by soft voices. The Fishermen gave her just one thing besides her means of escape from Haydrin’s Seat: a single golden feather, the only clue to her quarry.

_{@Psyker Landshark}

---

---

When Jason left his family’s small farm in the heart of the Croplands, he was surrounded by people that loved him. What few neighbors were around came by to wish him good luck, and made sure to give him lots of food for the journey. These people had lived in the same spot their whole life, and while their generosity was genuine it was unfortunate that most of the food they packed for Jason wasn’t suited for travel, and would most likely spoil within a few days time.

There was a decent sized chunk of cheese that looked like it would last a while though.

Jason’s parents were as encouraging of their son’s journey as they were sad to see him go. That was to say, they were very emotional. They made sure that Jason had warm clothes, sturdy shoes, and as many coins as they could spare.

Besides the few jeers from a passing carriage when his mother insisted on smothering her taller son into her bosom, it was a touching send off.

It had been months since William’s last letter. The Miller family tried not to let their worry show through in their daily lives, but as time dragged on with no word of their other son, that worry began to eat away at them. That Jason was leaving in search of him brought relief and fear to their hearts. It brought pride too, that they had raised such wonderful boys.

The last few letters his brother sent were tucked safely away on the inside of Jason’s bag, and a woven good luck charm was swinging from the outside of it. It was clear in every line William wrote that the young man was excited at the prospect of becoming a knight. He documented every place he stopped on his way to the capital city, and every interesting thing he saw and person he met. His last letter was slightly wrinkled from wear of the family reading it over and over.

dear ma, pa, and jason,

i made it to the capital. it’s bigger than i ever dreamed of. nearly whole place is made of cobblestone. there are so many people living here too.

i found out where the knights train, but they said they don’t accept just anyone. i have to apply and prove myself. i don’t feel nervous at all actually i’m happy i found them so quick. i’m going back tomorrow to apply for real and i will let you know how it goes. until then i am going to look around the city more, it was too big to see in one day.

you know how they say the world is small? That’s true even in a city so big. i ran into sara, you know the mason’s daughter what used to live down the road? we were both so surprised, i can’t wait to see who else i will meet, especially after i become a knight.

that’s all for now, i still have some money left so i’m renting a room at an inn. hope it doesn’t take too long to get used to sleeping in a barracks!

hope you’re all doing well, love, william

It wasn’t the most exciting letter, but the most important information was there: William’s last known location was Haydrin’s Seat. He’d made it to his destination. So what happened once he got there?

It was a question for Jason to chew on as he passed through the gate into the Scrublands. When his mother couldn’t find a passing merchant to buy the family’s produce, sometimes she would make the trek here - and sometimes she brought one of her sons along with her. It was the same as ever; a loud and rowdy town where hopes floated in the air alongside the shouts of peddlers. Pushing through the crowd of farmers just like him, and some stranger looking people, Jason made it outside where a line was forming in order to gain entrance. The line of people, both civilians and mercenaries by the look of some of them, was pushed to one side. The rest of the road was open, only a girl with two men and a handful of other people heading in the same direction.

---

Jason’s parents, and all of his neighbors came to see him off on his journey. All the attention was a little embarrassing in Jason’s opinion. He was just doing what any brother would do. He still appreciated the sentiment though. Everyone was close in his section of the Croplands. They were all like family.

A lot of them gave him enough food to last the trip. The food probably wouldn’t last the trip though. None of these people traveled much and didn’t have anything that wouldn’t go bad after a few days... Jason had to either eat it before it went bad, or share it with somebody. He did get some cheese that would probably last a good while. That was helpful.

His Ma and Pa were also there to say goodbye. His parents were supportive of his decision to look for William. They were had been worried sick after so much time had passed without a letter from William. They tried not to show that, but months without knowing what happened to your son would make any parent sick with worry. Of course, they were also worried that if things went badly, they would lose both of their sons... Jason didn’t think about that. This wouldn’t go badly. William could take care of himself, and so could he. He would find his twin brother alive.

His parents gave him as much coins as they could spare, as well as some extra clothes. Of course, Jason still didn’t wear a shirt, because he was a show off like that. After a hug goodbye from his mother, which caused someone in a carriage to mock them. As if there was anything wrong with saying goodbye to your mother when you don’t know how long it will be before you see them again... Jason was off.

He carried his things in a blue bag with a woven good luck charm swinging off of it. In addition to his bag of supplies, Jason also brought his trusty farming hoe. He didn’t expect to do any farming on this trip, but the hoe was still useful for defending himself when magic doesn’t work. He's had it for years, it was the real good luck charm.

He also had every single letter William had sent. He could tell from his writing that he was really excited to see the world and become a knight. He documented every place he went to, and everyone he met along the way. They brought joy to the entire family every time they got one. His last letter said he had made it to the capital, where the knights trained. Now the question was, what happened to him once he got there? That was what Jason was going to find out.

He passed through the gate, into the Scrublands. He had gone here with his mother sometimes when she needs to sell produce. It was rather nostalgic for Jason. It was a vibrant town filled with lots of different people, and lots of stuff going on. There were farmers,  mercenaries, and other merchants. Jason didn’t stay for long. He made his way through the crowd, and made it outside. There, he found a whole line of people waiting to get inside.

On the opposite side of the line were people going out of the town. There were a lot less people here. Besides himself, there was also a teenage girl, and two older men. One of the men had a hand on the girl’s shoulder. They both looked suspicious... Jason wondered if he should get involved. The longer he spent here, the longer it was going to take to find William. Then again, he couldn’t just walk away and potentially leave a girl in danger... The answer was obvious. No doubt William would have gotten involved too if he was here.

So, with farming hoe in hand, Jason casually approached the group. “‘Scuse me guys. Is everything alright here?”

Cassius thought back on his employer, a Mr. Woodard, who was a less than pleasant man, but his coin was just as good as any other and he never turned down a job when the pay outweighed the distaste he had. Despite the conflicting rumors that were swirling around the so-called "Woodard Plantation Monster," and the lack of luck from other prospective hunters, he'd gladly taken the job. Unfortunately beyond said rumors there was precious little information about the thing. Rumors weren't good enough to track down a beast of this caliber, but that hadn't stopped him before and it wasn't about to. His best bet would be to head towards the plantation and see what information he could gather from workers and nearby residents.

He moved along with the flow of people moving towards the Cropland Pass, thankful that most people moved out of his way, considering the "when" and not "if" that Mr. Woodard had used in his conversation about the job. He had a fairly good reputation, but he was unsure if that was desperation or respect coming from the man. He pulled the pack on his shoulders a bit higher, clanking the silver and gold arm guard, before dropping his hand onto the hilt of one of his swords at his side. The familiar weight was comforting as he tracked the haunted eyes of the people walking the opposite direction.

He kept a close eye on the dozens of people walking back and forth along the road; occasionally tuning into a conversation to see if there might be anything of value to learn. As the woman dragged a haggard looking man past him chattering about jobs; he clocked the mention of the Woodard Plantation. A frown pulled at his face as he considered the implications of the rumors spreading outside the Croplands; perhaps his employer had a right to be as concerned as he was.

As their voices faded away and he returned his attention to the crowds noticing a few people that stood out, namely a young man with a hoe on his back, must be a farmer of sorts, and a young lady who appeared to be travelling alone; which wasn't the best idea. Especially with all the beasts and vagrants that liked to wander the lands. Speaking of vagrants, he scowled at the two scruffy looking men that leered at several young women walking the road; but as long as they didn't cause any trouble. As he had the thought and prepared just to walk by he saw them push off their spot by the gate. He paused for a moment, stepping a bit to the side so people could move around him, to see where they went.

His grip on the pommel of his sword tightened as they approached the young lady he'd seen and grabbed onto her arm. He went to step towards the pair when the same young man he'd seen walked up to confront them. He thought about walking away, continuing to look into the actual job he had, but something kept him from turning away. He took the few strides needed to step up beside the man in blue; standing just a bit taller with arms crossed over his chest.

"I'd also be interested in knowing what's going on," he kept his cold gaze fixed on the man holding onto the girl's arm, "Nothing untoward I hope."

---

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Hiding in broad daylight, dealing with the godsdamned Fishermen, having to watch her ass everywhere she went...really, the only difference was that now she wasn’t under royal mandate to do so. Only for a little while longer, she supposed. Kayliss knew that if she was going to make it out of this entire sad show with her head intact, the only way she was going to manage it was by getting out of the game entirely. Really, it hadn't been a bad ten or so years. Not at all. She'd gotten picked up off the streets, trained in something useful, and turned out to be good at it. The now ex-spy had no idea what she was going to do after her freedom was secured, but that was a problem for the Kayliss of the future.

Hell, considering the amount of guardsmen and knights searching for her in the capital alone, thinking about the future was a luxury. Right now, there were more pressing concerns. How to find some bird with a golden feather across the entire damn nation. Where she was going to start with said search.

How exactly was she going to explain hiding away on this wagon to the two strays that had been picked up by the traveling family the Fishermen had bribed to take her along. From the gist of what Kayliss heard outside the crate she was in, it was the bloody girl that had no idea what was going on that caused this situation in the first place. At least the kid hadn't mentioned her. Too young and naive to understand exactly what was going on, though Kayliss had to wonder exactly what the parents had been thinking, agreeing to this.

Well, forget about it. The supposed paladin was asleep for now, at least. That would make things easier, considering Kayliss's first impression of the woman was a cunt with a rod jammed so far up her ass it was a wonder she could walk, much less shit. 'Duty as a governed citizen'...the church certainly produced some head cases.

Taking a deep breath as she finalized her plan of action, Kayliss popped the crate she was stashed in open, making an exaggerated yawning sound as she slowly rose to her feet, not even faking her stretches to loosen up her muscles from being stashed in an enclosed space for hours on end.

"Hm?" Kayliss blinked as she glanced at Ori and the sleeping Eliza, squatting down after she'd finished stretching, taking care to wrap her traveling cloak back around her. "You travelers too? Sheesh, you snooze for a few hours and there's two more wanderers on the wagon. Name's Kayliss, by the way." She gave a friendly smile, tilting her head briefly before turning around towards the front. "Oi, Donna! Where've we gotten to since I fell asleep?"

---

Looking upon the crossroads, Derrick scratched his head at the need to make such an important decision. On one hand, cutting through the woods to the Croplands almost seemed like something to do instinctively. Derrick was, after all, the type to avoid roads. A true hero avoids the roads whenever possible, after all. Running into random people wasn't very heroic according to Mother, as their entanglements may become his. What kind of hero would Derrick be if he was too busy helping other people to save them from monsters, anyway? Derrick also pondered on whatever this strange monster in the Croplands may be. Perhaps it will be different from the slimy monsters, scaly monsters, and ribbity monsters he was too familiar with.

While the path to the Croplands was something of a mystery bag in terms of variety, Derrick looked upon the road. The Scorchlands seemed to have the largest variety of new and different monsters, such as the stingy monster, a close relative to the eight-legged monster. At the same time, Derrick was sure that his clothing wasn't good enough to last in the desert, and he would need to cut down on his gear a fair bit to properly manage the heat there. His other choice was the Tidelands, perhaps a land he'd be more familiar with. Coastal and humid, it almost sounds like a more open swamp... And to fight a snaky monster, as well. It does sound quite exciting.

So many decisions and so little time... Derrick looked on at the feathered monsters dotting the skies and trees with a fair bit of annoyance at their miniature roars. As much as he was tempted to slay them, his bow was broken and he was running low on sharp rocks to sling at them. The number of sharp stones laying at his feet will determine whether these beasts will be spared by Derrick's wrath or not. In any case, Derrick thought of a way to determine where he will go, nodding as the method came to his head.

Drawing his trusty hatchet, Derrick began to whisper to its head a request... Show me the way to the biggest, scariest, most monstriest monster. As he did so, he began to cast a spell from his own personal method of magic, a special gift given only to him by the gods as a means of surpassing his blood curse as it didn't require the use of mana, and one he kept a secret even from Mother. Derrick remembered the last time he told Mother he was able to "do magic," not wanting to relive of the painful needles and yucky poultices he suffered because of it. It was a school of magic different from the core three, as it consisted of things only a "hero" would need. This school was one that Derrick aptly called "Hero Magic."

To create a fate in order to surpass it...

Derrick threw his hatchet into the air and took a step back, awaiting for the axe to land. Whatever direction his axe's haft pointed towards was the one Derrick would take, no matter what...

... Unless, of course, it pointed at a path he didn't have in mind. In that case, he will try again and again until he got it right. "Hero Magic" is unreliable at times.

---

---

Kendra was at the Scorchland Pass, replenishing what little supplies she’d used so far, and gathering information. Most people didn’t recognize the names Dusk Tiedine or Ivorydawn Company, but when mentioning “You know that rare gem…” or “The mining business some northerns meddled in…” she got some more helpful reaction.

“Well, if it’s mining and northern folk, then it’s gotta be the Highlands,” said one.

“Oh, deary, you’ll need a better coat and blanket if you go there, here, have a discount…” added another.

“What are you saying, why would anyone from the Highland go all the way to the south to mine, you idiot!” the first one.

“Oh, what, so you’re saying Midlands are the answer? Sure, you have all sort of businessmen there, but-” a third one chipped in.

“Midlands ain’t that far north-” contested the first one.

“Well, they’re north from here, aren’t they? If it isn’t there, at least they’ll know where to look for sure-” argued the third.
“Oh, but you must bring something with you for the Celebration! How about this…” cajoled the second one.

“None of those snobs would bother listening some crap about gems and scamming during their festival, and if we’re talking north, might as well go to the Snowlands-” a fourth one meddled.

“Oh, for-” the first one.

“That is quite far, you should get more waterskins, and look-” the second one.

“Hey, I’m a water mage, how about me? Hire me and I’ll get you all the water-” some fifth young newcomer added.

“Hush you, lad,” the first and second one replied almost simultaneously.

At this point, Kendra really had quite enough ‘information’, and endeavored to stop the chaotic conversation that developing into a mindless and rather loud conflict. “Alright, alright, thank you, THANK YOU, everyone, and yes ma’am, I’ll take that and that, no, no NOT that…Yes, that’s all. Very helpful, of course, but I must be on my way, you see…” It was with a sigh of relief that Kendra left the premises, now with a new woolen cloak and extra blanket.

A few hours of rest later, she and her mount were refreshed and ready to go, and so they went. Though Kendra has no wish to seek out the church’s help – not yet, not until she was truly desperate – she’d go to the Midlands first, to try and get some more accurate information; or if nothing else, to take a rest from the long journey across Scrublands. Afterwards, she’d travel to the Highlands.

“You’ve done good work here.”

Two days later, and old Narillon’s words still echoed in her mind, long after the taste of succulent, tart grapefruit faded from her tongue. She did good work. She did good work! So Chef Tuan didn’t rat her out to the head butler for keeping those pantry mice as pets after all. Thank the gods for that. She could only hope that Janet would remember to feed them.

Nea shook her head, scattering the thoughts out of her skull. Her thoughts seemed to always be going back to the estate these days, and the people there as well. Though gossip and chatter from fellow travellers sounded all around her, it sounded rather terrible and fantastical. Some monster at Woodard’s? One of the gardeners had family there. Had he heard of it? Nea frowned. She really was thinking about the estate too much, huh? Maybe that’s just what happened once you started working and living somewhere for long. Certainly, she had been homesick when travelling out of the Highlands, no matter how miserably cold and isolated it was. She shook her head again, doubled down on her mind-clearing by popping some of the wildberries she foraged into her mouth.

It was summer in the land of Sedaia, after all, the sweet liquor of trodden blackberries sticky in the noses of those who strode through the highways of the sun-kissed kingdom. And the journey from the Croplands to the Highlands was a long one too. Perfect for one of those summer flings that one of the prettier maids always boasted about! Maybe she could detour to the Midlands and see the Celebration of Kings from the wealthiest nation around? Snag herself a cute merchant’s boy, eat some fancy food, take it easy until summer ends and…

Then what?

Through the Scrublands during the fall, where autumnal harvests and fat caravans mean that the bandits would be working overtime with their dastardly ways? Be stuck in the Highlands during a miserably cold winter, stuck with only her parents and sheep in that drafty old farmhouse? The vacationing maid furrowed her brow, and picked up her pace. The faster she could get to the Midlands, the faster she could enjoy herself, and then the faster she could end her personal enjoyment so she could get out of the Highlands before the storms really settle in. Which now seemed like the opposite of what a lazy summer with a purse of coinage ought to be.

“Where you headed?”

A heavy hand fell on her shoulder, as gruff and ruggedly manly as its owner, who radiated such masculine musk that Nea was veritably blasted out of her thoughts of the future. She looked at the man, then at another man (doubtlessly jealous that his friend took initiative) who approached, then at another man (well, maybe more of a farmer boy) who approached, then at yet another man (this time, certainly a man, with such striking eyes that she could drink right out of them) who approached. A blush covered the dark-haired girl’s cheeks. Oh, what should she do? They say that travel changed people, but she didn’t think it’d have changed her that much, so soon!

Hah, if only that bitch Mira was here to see it. Just two days, and she was surrounded in all cardinal directions by men wishing to be introduced to her parents!

Unfortunately, her mouth wasn’t nearly so eloquent once her mind overheated with the possibilities.

“Uh,” Nea croaked, craning her neck up at them. They were all so tall and well-built! “Y-yes?”

---

---

It was just long enough to ensure that their paladin was asleep when the final person in their little wagon made herself known. With Kayliss now out of the crate, the inside of the wagon was all the smaller. The canvas stretching overhead kept the sun from beating down on the passengers, but in these close quarters it would soon get sweltering either way.

Donna and her daughter moved aside to make room for Kayliss. Jessie looked excited to have yet another person to talk to, while her mother seemed more surprised than anything. Perhaps she thought that their secret stowaway would hide out in that cramped little box the whole trip, which certainly would have been miserable. Still, Donna smiled at Kayliss even if her face had grown a bit pale.

"Ah, good morning Miss. We're just passing through into the Scrublands now."

True to her word, the wagon trail began to open up wider and straight ahead was Kayliss' last major checkpoint before she was free of the Midlands. Midland Pass was frequented by many people coming and going from the region, but now especially the town was filled with hopeful merchants and tourists looking to celebrate in the capital. There were a couple of guards posted on the town's perimeter, but they hardly paid any attention to one plain little carriage coming in when a wave of more colorful ones passed in the opposite direction.

"Missus Kayliss, this is Mr. Ori!" Jessie piped up, taking it on herself to introduce them to each other much like she'd introduced her family earlier. Then, she cupped a hand to her mouth and whispered to the runaway woman, "Momma said to be nice, he's blind."

The girl sat back and beamed at all of the cart's occupants. Proudly she lifted up her bandaged leg. "He helped me when I hurt my leg! Also, that's Ms. Paladin Eliza!"

She moved to point at the sleeping knight, but Donna caught her daughter's hand and pulled the girl closer to her. "Jessie, please. We don't want to wake her up."

"Yes Momma..."

Donna cleared her throat. "We're going to take these two west with us, Kayliss. They're headed to the Highlands - "

"Looking for treasure!" Jessie squeaked.

" - so we'll make a little detour. Er, you never told us where you were headed, but I hope that's no trouble."

Ahead, their cart's already slow pace slowed even more. There were men wrangling the swell of incoming people into a more manageable mob, but until then it made leaving town feel like wading through molasses. Far to the south, there was a similar congested scene.

---

---

Among the din and bustle of the crowd, not many even noticed two men approach the teenage girl. Those that did quickly turned their eyes away, minding their own business. Only two bystanders stepped up to get involved in the suspicious looking scene, cutting quite the heroic figures.

"Untoward?"

Of course, not everyone appreciated the intervention. It was tough to say if even the girl appreciated it, as stunned and red faced as she was.

The man holding her puffed out his chest, trying to measure up to Cassius' height as he looked both the mercenary and the farmer beside him in the eye. "Untoward...!? I dunno what that means but if you're accusing us of something you best walk away quick like. It a crime to ask a girl where she's going?!" The man quickly got defensive, scratching at his patchy salt-and-pepper beard with his free hand while the other still rest on Nea's shoulder. "I'm just asking where she's going!"

The man's tanned skin was beginning to match Nea's red as he sputtered, but his partner walked up and patted his back. Smoothly the second man moved around, putting himself between Jason and Cassius, and Nea and the first man. This man, shorter with paler skin, smiled happily at the do-gooders. When he did, they could see one of his teeth was missing, and some were replaced with cheap crystal implants. It was around this time that Nea's voice was finally heard, and it spurred the crystal toothed man into speaking.

"Folks, you might have got the wrong idea. We're just looking for someone, okay? If you don't get a move on you're gonna lose your spot in line, huh?" He gestured back to the mass of people looking to get in through the gate, assuming both men were on their way into the Croplands. "We ain't hurting anyone! Right sweetie?"

He turned his gaze on Nea. He appeared to be making quite the effort to come off as non-threatening. "We're all friends here, huh?"


In town, people continued to file around Tala, giving her space as best they could while still trying to get to their own destinations as quickly as possible. The horrible off key cacophony was still playing somewhere close by, and once or twice bold street hawkers approached to peddle their product directly to the woman.

At one point a group of people passed with their heads turned to look back to the city gate, whispering about some commotion outside.

"Some guy yelling about crimes, didn't hear him very well. Think it's bounty hunters?"

"Probably. All kinds of riff raff come down this way, let's just stay out of it..."

One of their group strayed a little close to Talanashta, and the bird on her shoulder squawked at the poor woman loudly. She yelped in surprise and hurried on.

---

---

With the touch of an expert, the axe head flew up and dragged the handle behind it. It spiraled neatly and cut through the heavy air until it landed with a thunk, it's blade sinking into the packed earth and it's handle and knob pointed directly west. It seemed like his hero's magic was pointing Derrick further down the road. In that direction, the West, beyond the Scrublands, lay the Tidelands and the very tip of the Scorchlands. Both options on his quest. Of course, Derrick was after monstriest monster. Between both leads, that could only be one.

On the way out of the region, most people didn't recognize at all "The Scourge of the Great Swamp." After all, having traveled the length of the Lowlands, he was far from Indiga. And though there were people who would be eager to meet and aid the local legend in town, Derrick instead went around any settlements he came across, including Lowland Pass.

All in all it was a very uneventful trek. In the Scrublands, most people worried more about men than monsters. Slayers of all kinds drove the largest beasts away from the area a long time ago. Not to mention it was much harder to avoid populated trails in the Scrublands, when humans touting the spread of civilization endeavored to make the whole region one big giant road. Still, the longer Derrick traveled, the less people were around, until eventually it appeared that he was the only human among the landscape that stretched out so far in each direction....

...until the sound of a horse approached from behind, and astride it was a woman with two swords strapped to her person.

–——————— ❂ ——————–

With some new provisions and the same determination, mount and rider rode over the dusty trails heading north. Today it felt nearly as hot in the Scrublands as it did in the Scorchlands yesterday, though Kendra was well used to heat. Others she passed were no so much, and they wore themselves out trying to rush ahead to find shade, and ended up parked on the side of the rode sitting in the shadow of their own steeds.

Closer to the borders of the region, the roads were friendly and it never took long to pass a stranger. Some that were traveling the same direction as Kendra stopped to chat with her, although when the topic of the Ivorydawn Company came up they shook their heads in ignorance. Eventually the land grew to look lonely, with other shrubs for company. Trails spread out and snaked in many different directions, and the wide expanse featured no other travelers besides Kendra. Rarely a sunbathing lizard would scurry away from the steady beat of her horse's hooves, but otherwise the Scrublands grew quiet once the woman reached further towards the center. It was a strange contrast to the bustle of the border towns that lined the region's edges.

The Midlands were a little ways off, and Kendra could reach them by the end of the day on horseback. Midland Pass was further still, but being the central area of Sedaia, there were other towns that were proud to serve as passages into the region. Towns that posted knights with keen eyes at their gates. Small streams of smoke off in the distance implied that one such settlement was within reach.

Continuing down the current path, there was finally another human to be seen. They traveled on foot, headed in the same direction as Kendra for now. Swaddled in tough fabrics and carrying weapons and equipment of all kinds, the man certainly seemed well prepared if not well traveled.

Jason was glad he wasn’t the only one concerned about this situation. A tall man armed with a sword also got involved with the scuffle, and wanted to know what was going on. The girl at the center of all of this was red in the face. Jason didn’t know what she was feeling right now. Probably nervous, considering she was surrounded by strange men.

The two strange men tried to talk themselves out of this. They claimed they weren’t doing anything wrong. But isn’t that what someone who was doing something wrong would say when they’d been found out? The way this guy so casually touched the girl he didn’t know didn’t exactly read innocent in Jason’s eyes.

Then the other man, who was missing several teeth, some of which were replaced with crystals, got in between them all. He tried to talk his way out of this mess, and convince them that they would lose their place in line or whatever. All that did was just make Jason more suspicious of these two in all honesty. What were they trying to get away with?

The farmer rolled his eyes. “Yeah... I don’t know about that... Jason’s free hand sparked with electricity, and he fired some lightning at the man with his hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Girl, run!” Then he turned his attention back to the strange men. Ha! betcha didn’t expect that from a farm boy!” He boasted with a smug grin on his face.

“We’re just looking for someone, okay?”

And in that moment, Nea woke up. Oh. Ok. That’s how it was. Of course. Wow. Just looking for someone, huh? Not looking for her, but someone else, huh? Probably someone tall and lithe, with hips wider than her shoulders and breasts the size of melons, huh? Ain’t hurting anyone, huh? We’re all friends here, huh?!

JUST FRIENDS, HUH?!!!

Nea Honeyforge of the Highlands was a peaceful girl. She enjoyed idling away warm spring days in the orchards when she could, listening to the chirping of the birds and the buzzing of the bees as she drank in the sweet aroma of ripening fruits. She enjoyed talking to her fellow maids about all sorts of nonsense, boasting about things she’s never done before, laughing over stupid word plays or silly gossip. She ate healthily, slept as well as she could, and prayed on the holy days to Tazia on high, as pious as any other Highlander. She was a peaceful girl, after all, unwieldy with a weapon and not prone to fits of violence.

She was also a sixteen year old girl who could dismantle a boar in half an hour with a single knife (admittedly also with others assisting). And she did not shy from the many penises she removed during such bloody work.

The red of embarrassment, of such naïve dreams of being accosted by four ruggedly handsome men, turned into the red of embarrassment, of a maiden deceived, honor besmirched by rapscallions on the road. And that, in turn, gave way to uncommon indignation, a desire to retaliate! That leathery-skinned old bat. Who taught him it was a good idea to keep such an unseemly wisp of a beard? That shiny-toothed creeper. Didn’t he learn his lesson about cleaning is teeth after the first one rotted out and fell?

“We,” she said, with all the fury of a furry puppy, “are not friends.”

Nea gripped her club, knuckles tightening over the stout wood until they turned white, her gaze settling on the smooth-talker. A swift strike to the crotch then? Or maybe a hearty whap to the face? How about end his ability to have children? Not that any woman would want to anyways. Pah, that bitch Mira. Bet this was her design. The maid drew her breath, hardened her amber gaze, an-

Lightning cracked, a thunderous boom following instantly as a magical force shot into the leathery-skinned uncle, shooting into his chest, through his blood, down his limbs…and then into Nea herself.

BZZZT went the maid, and she promptly fell unconscious.

Cassius tensed slightly and tightened the grip he had on the hilt of his sword as the man raised his voice. Best he could tell these men were a couple of idiots at best and hired thugs at worst. He'd dealt with their type plenty in his travels around and had seen his fair share of encounters get violent quick. While that wouldn't be a problem for him, he didn't want to put anyone else in the area in harms way. Better to just try to smooth this over without crossing swords... He scowled down at the shorter man who stepped up between them, clearly trying his hardest to appear amiable. He'd have had a better shot if he bothered to take care of himself at all. His pallid skin and poorly done implants just further proved this.

We're all friends here, huh?

He highly doubted that. He reached a gauntleted hand forward and placed it on the shorter man's shoulder, tightening his grip to the point that it was almost uncomfortable. He heard the angry voice of the girl come from behind the man, confirming his suspicions that they were not friends. "Just let the little lady go and then, maybe, we can see about finding that person you're looking for, alright." His grip tightened just a bit more, a pleasant smile crossing his face, but a threatening undertone to his voice. It wasn't a suggestion. "No need for anyone here to get hurt."

A sudden spark of lightning flashed from the hand of the younger man; he felt a brief moment of surprise that moved into concern as he saw both the tanned man and the girl drop to the ground like a puppet whose strings had just been cut, "Spoke too soon I guess." Using his hand on the man's shoulder as an anchor point, and the moment of surprise, he slammed his knee into the stomach of the smaller man causing him to double over. A swift blow to the temple and the man was on the ground with his friend.

Cassius shook out his hand as he stepped over the man to kneel next to the unconscious form of the girl. He wasn't a doctor but he figured she would be alright in time. He looked back towards the other man, "Not the wisest course of action, but it got the job done I suppose."

---

The wagon slowed to a crawl as it approached the bustling checkpoint. The people passing by seemed as a river, the family's cart a fat salmon making headway up the bustling throng. Voices shot out from various directions, horses tugged anxiously at their reins. A small argument broke out over a basket of spilled goods.

The guards, to their credit, put a halfway decent effort into managing the crowd. Still, the people were taken by a fervor of excitement that buzzed through their heads, their hearts, and–most especially–their wallets. For every tourist or vacationing family, there were at least three merchants ready to bomboard potential customers with various embroideries, shamanistic trinkets, and snake oils.

The town's church bell struck noon. Its clear ringing quelled the noise–but only for a moment–as everyone, merchant or tourist alike, paused to consider its toll.

Eliza awoke. She paused for a moment to consider the surroundings, taking in the thickening odor of horse while looking over the hustle of activity around the wagon. At least it had cooled down since noontime.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I suppose we've made it to Midland pass?" she asked, still half-asleep.

"That's right," said Donna. "We'll be right through in a hot second, so you can prolly just get back to sleep after." The statement was rather unconvincing–the wagon had completely stopped.

"Your concern flatters me, but I have rested enough. I will spend the rest of the journey keeping watch, as is my duty." Eliza stood up slowly and stretched. Only then did she notice the recent addition to their traveling group.

"Hoy," Kayliss waved to the finally awake paladin, unconcerned. "Finally awake, eh? Don't mind me, I was passed out myself in one of the crates in the back when you and the other one over there came on, apparently." She said, casually jerking her thumb back in Ori's direction. "So you're some paladin from the church's what I hear, huh? Pleased to meet ya, name's Kayliss. Just decided to hitch a ride through the pass. Summer being the gigantic pain in the arse it is on the road and all. Where you headed, in any case?"

"I am headed to the bounds of the Highlands," Eliza said.

"Me as well," Ori chimed in. "Well, not really anywhere in particular, but that direction's caught my fancy. Not really one for walking, even less in this kind of weather." He stretched his arms. "Passed out in the crates? Interesting bed you've got there."

"Eh, enclosed spaces're comfortable to me. Anyways, on the way to the Highlands, eh?" Kayliss shrugged noncommitally. "I'm...well, I'm just wandering about. Just hitching a ride until the next big city where I can find myself some work. Not a particularly secure living, but at least it's interesting. So I suppose we're stuck with each other for a while, so long as it's convenient."

"I suppose so," Eliza said. "My name is Eliza Chayre. Please, call me what suits your fancy. It certainly is convenient that we are traveling to one destination. Pray tell, Ori, what guides you towards the Highlands?"

"Same old, same old. Doing a bit of work, then doing a bit of exploring on the side when I get sick of it, then back again when the funds run out. I'm a doctor, so it doesn't pay half bad. Fixed up the little miss's leg over there. If you've got any dire medical issues, now's probably the time to mention them." He laughed lightly. "Say, Kayliss, if you're looking for work, we were just in the Midlands. I'm sure there's plenty of places up in Haydrin's Seat that wouldn't mind an extra pair of hands."

An awkward cough. Should've known someone would say that. Now, how to dodge this...?
"I...well, spent a lot of time around the Seat recently. Looking for a change of pace. Seeing sights I wouldn't have otherwise. Friend of mine encouraged me to broaden my horizons, you know?" If by broadening her horizons, the fucker meant 'find this stupid bird', that was. "Anyways, doctor, huh? Surprised you're wandering, yourself." Kayliss said.

Ori hesitated for a second. "The same, really. Sticking around in one place doesn't suit me, it's not like there's a shortage of work anywhere. Can't do much sightseeing, but I am doing a bit of research here and there." He grinned.

"What sort of medicine do you specialize in?" Eliza asked. "An outbreak of pox came through the Midlands a few weeks ago. Did you help with that?"

"Don't believe I did, I got in about... ten days ago? Not one for epidemics, they're quite dangerous if you think about it. And my speciality is, um..." he clicked his tongue. "Physical injuries, by virtue of how many I've had to deal with. But hey, enough about me," Ori added quickly. "First time coming to the Highlands, is it?"

"I've come through once before, but that was on the way to Haydrin's Seat." It wasn't technically a lie. Kayliss had spent some time on assignment in the Highlands before, but not enough to truly get a feel for the region. Most of her work had her in Haydrin's Seat or in the eastern regions.

"Anyways, we done with this checkpoint yet?" She groaned, not even feigning any sort of emotion this time. Just because she could be patient, didn't mean she wanted to be for this. Especially considering it was a line. She hated lines.

"Any moment now," Donna said. The family of three shifted in their seats. Even the horse seemed unnerved.

"Have no fear. I will help in proceeding through the gate." Eliza undid the clasps holding her greataxe and retrieved a small pouch from her pack. The cart rolled up to the guards at the gate.

One guard, face mostly obscured by his waxy beard and helmet, peered in through the back of the wagon. "What have we here?"

"Merchants," Donna said. "With a few ride-a-longs." She pointed at Ori, Eliza, and Kayliss.

Another guard with a crooked nose examined a crate. "We've been havin' reports o' some, eh, problerms in the capital. Ya sure yer not housin' any crimernals? Yer lookin' a mote suspicious there, you wit' tha eyes blocked. And what's wit' tha armor, lady?"

"Pay not attention to my comrades," Eliza pulled a silver medallion from the fabric pouch engraved with a set of scales balanced by a sword and feather. "I am a paladin of the church–Eliza Chayre. It would do you well to let us pass. I can assure you of their moral integrity."

The guards had never seen a paladin before, let alone their emblem. Still, she did sound official enough. There was also the matter of her axe. The two shared a glance, then shrugged.

"Right, whatever. Pass on through. Don't make no trouble," the bearded guard said.

Eliza stowed her axe and emblem, then sat down. Soon enough, the group was in the flat reaches of the Scrublands.