The Journey(R)

After signing up, Vaxal headed to the bar as well. His Raven perched on the sign above the entrance, a wrom clutched in it's beak which it quickly swallowed. Vaxal chuckled to himself. "Bet that's a lovely gourmet dinner for you, isn't it?" The he headed into the bar. Vaxal fiddled with some coins in his pocket. There was a very god likelyhood he would die soon and the gold would be meaningless. He stepped up to the barkeep and three all of the gold coins on the table. "Round of drinks for everyone. On me!" He exclaimed gleefully.

The next morning, Vaxal awoke to the worst hangover of his life. It should be noted that, up until this point, he had never had a drop of alcohol. Why he had even thought of drinking the stuff, he would never know. He stood and dressed, the continual pounding of pain running through his head. He found one meager gold coin left in the pocket of his pants and left it on the dresser for the beautiful black haired beauty resting in the bed... (who he would years later find out was named Greg.)

After making sure he had his things, he headed downstairs and outside. He wasn't sure where to go, but soon saw some horses near the front gate. Hopping atop one, he whistled to his bird. A few seconds later the raven was perched on his shoulder, a half eaten eyeball now cluctched in it's beak. "Man, you just keep finding all sorts of delicacies don't you?" He said as he chuckled to himself.

Whether he knew it or not, the sword that Old Man Magee cave Alexandra was a significant relic from the earlier days of the nation, or at least Alexandra figured that it must have been based on what the local blacksmith gave her for it. In addition to the sword she had sought she received a full set of armor and a great shield. In her arms, the shield looked more like a butler, and the two handed claymore looked and felt like a standard long sword, or it would have if she had any sort of previous training. To Alexandra it was just an awkward piece of metal, but one day soon, she knew, it would feel like an extension of her own body. She just needed to practice.

She affectionately gazed at her new armor and weapons, well new to her at least. A keen eye would have noticed the way the steel no longer shined and the small impressions from prior damage the smith was unable to mend quite perfectly. Then came the matter of fit and adequate protection. The claim that she received a full set of armor was a bit misleading. Nothing in stock was her size, the smith had to stretch and thin the armor to get it over her. Even then, the plate body only covered her ribcage, and the skirt only covered half of her thighs, leaving a gap from there to shin braces. She kept her work clothes on underneath to stay covered and to keep the armor from rubbing.

One day Alexandra herself might come to realize that the merchant had received the better end of the bargain, as trader herself she should have known already, but now was not a time for rational thought on her part. To her it felt like her birthday, her sixth one to be precise, when she had received her very own horse. That year stood out because it was the first time she considered herself a grown-up. Now that she was dressed the part, it was time for her to play the hero she had always dreamed of being.
The seemingly wondrous trade had left her rather short on funds. While proven and true heroes stayed for free, heroes to be did not. To save her silver and bronze, she opted to stay at a farmhouse instead. The owners agreed to let her sleep with the animals in return for some work. The experience was nothing new to her, although even her parents had found it odd when they found her sleeping in the stables.

She worked with great haste like she always had, and with the limited work found herself finishing early. Early enough that she still had an hour to practice swordplay before sunset. She started by moving around awkwardly. After strafing back and forth and moving forward and back….she continued to move around awkwardly. Whenever she swung she found herself stumbling forward and to the side. She even fell flat on her face more than a few times. Luckily she had cleaned the area and lied fresh hay before starting. When she managed to stay standing it wasn't unusual for her to unintentionally bash her weapon or body into the nearby building. Luckily each time she hit a support. At least that way she didn't cause any serious damage to anything, although the animals started when the walls and roof shook around them. After sunset she found a lantern and practiced a few more hours into the night, not that it did much good. She ultimately gave up when the fatigue made it impossible to grip the handle. Maybe it would be easier just to strangle the dragon.

Not to let her difficulties in the beginning deter her, she rose early to start again. She had already sweat through her clothes by time the local farmers had come around. He permitted her to continue as she had already paid for and she was no longer bothering the animals. They had already grown used to it, as if they knew she would never manage to actually hit anything, except when the sword when flying out of her hand, but that only happened two……..three times. "Not again!" Now she owed the farmer a chicken.

Casually strolling about town in the morning, Theodore took this opportunity to further visit the city. Albeit being a wanderer, the man had a keen interest in investigating the towns he frequently visited in order to find places of interest that could potentially help him in his hunts. Such places usually included magical laboratories, arcaneums, libraries and mage guilds. Despite being an unwelcomed individual by most for his talents, Bane is usually met with the inquired information, be it either for the Magi’s eagerness to see him go as soon as possible or out of justice to see a faulty fellow Mage being punished for the crimes committed.

Much of the places of interest were closed due to being so early in the morning, but it did not matter much to the Witch Hunter. He visiting the area was mainly out of knowing a bit about the Northwind and how grand was this settlement. He had heard several rumors of this place, but Theodore never set foot in Northwind yet. In fact, Bane rarely set foot in a city for long, or at all. Used to wander, Theodore’s home was in the wilderness. The only needs he had in the city was for repairing his equipment, and buy supplies for the road. Most part of that lifestyle was also due to an elven Ranger by the name of Cyrawn Dae. An interesting and mysterious individual that he used to be friend with until the day they had to go on their own ways, as each had different duties to take care off. Cyrawn taught the Witch Hunter how to hunt and survive in the wilderness for the months they spent together. By the time they bade each other farewell, Theodore learned much and was able to fend off for himself in the wild. Because of that, it intensified his desire to stay far from the more civilized settlements, preferring to stop by the home of nomads and famous elven tree-perched villages.

Lost in his thoughts of old days, the Witch Hunter stopped his steed as he heard the sound of metal hitting against wood, stone or metal. Curious as to who would do such sounds early in the morning, Bane steered his horse towards a farmhouse just a few distance away from the city’s wall. Coming upon the fence that was limiting the farm’s land, he saw a young woman of tall height swinging a sword about. To his surprise, he thought he recognized the giant woman as one of those standing with the others would-be Dragonslayers. Judging from the way she was swinging her weapon, she was clearly new at this. Looking at her sword, it felt as if she was swinging a disproportionate longsword. Added to her skills, the weapon itself wouldn’t help. Was she really part of those who would take part in a quest to slay the dragon?

Overthinking wasn’t in Bane’s personality though, he figured as he jumped off from his horse with a faint smile and hopped from the farm’s fence to join the giantess in the backyard. By the time he jumped off his horse, the inexperienced warrior accidentally threw her sword, hitting a chicken square. Theodore’s faint smile turned into a wide grin, but it was not a mocking smile, but rather a cheerful one.

“You tryin’ to lop off heads at a distance with that weapon, girl?” Theodore said with a joking tone as he walked to Alexandria.

Meera awoke among a some wildlife in the woods. It would appear she fell asleep while playing with some animals. She quietly left the woods and made her way to the northern gate where she saw the one who was Nine.

She walked up to him and said, "Hi, my name is Meera."

Amat sighed as she vacated her elevated watch and headed into the air, finally breakng a smile and taking the time in the thinner air to fix her hair a little before looking back at the town her wings were keeping her above. as viliagers awoke and went about their actions it was a being larger than a human, approached by the armoured male from the day before. Inerested in what the male saw in the large female se banked her wings and entered a half glide/half fall decent pulling up to land wth a dull thud and a rising of dust around the hem of her dress.

Taking a glance at the Trajectory of the sword and watching it hit the chicken her mind also took note of the woman's stance. The throw was not intentional in her eyes and she smiled. running over what she'd observed in her mind in a bit more detail as she walked up nodding to each in turn, "Good morning." she greeted, her wings half-open, as one of her fingers fiddles with one of the white feathers, as her attention moved to the female, "I don't think we've met before, are you another ho as taken up the dragon slaying quest?" She asked, her mood having obviously brightened having spent the night free of both sleep and annoyances.

"Well, hello then, Meera. My name is Nine, of the House of Durel."

Nine pointed at his chest, where his family crest was located.

"I am he who carries on the legacy of my father before me by aiding those less fortunate. I have joined the quest to slay the dragon. Is that the same reason you are here?"

"Yes it is," Meera answered. She admired the crest on his chest, interesting.

"I apologize if I am rude with asking this question, but, you are not 'living'?"

And so our heroes awoke the next morning ready to tackle a new challenge. No more would they be farming or tending the crops, or traveling the land. They would be riding into a dangerous region north of the city, which the locals have taken to calling Bandit Country, and rightfully so.

At the northern were about fifteen horses, hitched and overcrowded in a stable that would normally hold about eight of the beasts. They were all different shapes and colors and fit for the journey ahead, Torik made sure of it.

But who would lead this group, if anyone? Where would they go, what would they see? What choices would they make? Who would they encounter? Do enemies, or allies lie beyond the horizon?

A lone path exited the northern gates, a stable on the east-side, and the road continued on straight northward into a dense forest, where it would twist and wind it's way around trees, brush, over rivers and creeks, and more. Plenty of game to hunt and a few clearings to camp out in as well.

Nine was intrigued by Meera's question.

"I suppose that depends on what you mean by 'alive'. If I am required to be composed of flesh, then I suppose I am not 'alive'. I know I am very different from everyone else, but I am much the same in many aspects. I have emotion just the same."


After the conversation with Meera was over, everyone else in the dragon-hunting party began to show up. When everyone had arrived, they all departed from the city. Most of the others (save for a couple) continued on horseback, but Nine continued on foot. He could keep up, so long as they kept at an average pace. He wouldn't get tired out either. They would, however. Eventually they would have to make camp.

"So maybe we should all make acquaintance with each other since we are going to be companions, eh?" Nine suggested.

"I am Nine, son of Balthador, of the House of Durel. And you all...?"

Vaxal rode up behind Nine. His horse was a black stallion with a long white mane that had been braided with red string, giving it a demonic appearance.

"House Durel? I've heard that name. The dwarves of your clan created the machines that my father used to till the fields." He bowed over slightly to Nine. "My name is Vaxal Sunderborn. Some call me the Demonic Archer, though I have no idea in the slightest where they got that nickname. I don't even OWN a bow."

"It is good to meet your acquaintance, Vaxal Sunderborn!" Nine exclaimed.

"I do hope my family's machines served your father well! I am not acquainted with farm life, however."

"I do not need a horse," Meera said. There was a near-blinding light that surrounded her. When the light dimmed the was a unicorn in her place. Then she galloped alongside the horses as they went.

As they rode on, an uneasiness settled over Vaxal. The images his raven sent to him were blurry and slightly skewed, but they usually gave Vaxal a clear bird's eye view of the area. He could se some shadows moving around in the trees and THAT is what first set bells off in his mind. "Hold!" He yelled to the group. Immediately the party came to a standstill.

"Up the road is a group of rogues. Possibly ten to fifteen, all of which are well equiped. I can only assume that this is a small party and there are more nearby. Any suggestions?"

Amat stayed quiet as she followed the group, flying on her six feathered wings, her eyes alert and scanning ahead for anything out of the ordinary, her hand absently moving to grasp her amulet, "This are feels... familiar," She finally said outloud before her flight shifted to bring her alongside Nine.

"You're a curious being, Nine... Not to worry you but your prsence is... different to others and it makes the seraph half of me... uneasy," she said then added, "My name is Amat," her attention shifted and her wings beat in a different direction bringing her steady flight to a halt, "Rogues?"

She closed her eyes breifly before saying, "Flanking such a group won't be viable with small numbers, and the terrain makes for poor amushes. Strike them hard and ensure that, if this is a scouting party, they do not suvive. I'd rather not have to bail you out of a large scale ambush." She said, balling her right fist before opening it, palm up, her elemental aegis floating down to her hand.

Standing tall on his valiant black steed, Theodore met with the group of would-be Dragonslayers at the stable. Everyone seemed quiet for the moment, and they departed in a similar silent fashion when they rode out of town, all on top of their horses. A few peasants had gathered along the path to exit the village so they would witness the either foolish adventurers or brave heroes ride on their way out to the city. Be their group foolish or brave, the villagers hoped this band of odd beings would have what it takes to put a stop to the dragon. It was the first time for Bane to see such a mass of people gathering to wish their well on their journey. Usually, his missions were done in secret, away from the prying eyes. He only knew the welcome back banquets when his missions were a success.

At some point after they rode out of town, the quiet group of adventurers seemed to lighten up, the strange being called “Nine proposed the others to get acquainted, before hearing one member of their party mentioning something about a group of rogues waiting for them further ahead. Like everybody, Theodore brought his horse to a halt, listening to what the others had to say about the possible threat ahead. The winged lady named “Amat” suggested that they would need to strike them hard, as the terrain was not fit for ambushes and flanking. Tipping his hat upwards, the Witch Hunter looked at the others.

“The King’s representative said we would travel across Bandit Country first. Those rogues might be a group of such low-lives and cutthroats that inhabits the region. My past travels brought me to this area more than once, so I’ve begun to get a grasp on the local area. Up ahead is a dense forest that I believe we must cross to get where we need to go. Good place to camp and hunt, but it’s also the perfect spot to get ambushed. If you say there are enemies up ahead, we should proceed with caution, and travel off from our horses. If you walk beside your horse, you’re less open for arrows and less prone to have rogues jumping at you from the trees.” Theodore advised the group, having traveled across the country a few times on a mission to hunt down a Rogue Mage.

“Heh… if they are not after our valuables, they are sure to be after my head. I’ve hunted a few of their rogue mages, they sure will be willing to get me back at it.” The Witch Hunter added with a grin.

Seeing as the forest was not so far away, Theodore heeded his own counsel and dismounted his steed, taking the reins and standing beside his companion. He felt uneasy to use his good horse as a shield from one side, but as he said earlier, traveling the forest on horseback would only make him open for bandits’ arrows. Not only that, but Theodore’s horse was bigger than most steeds: if a Rogue would jump at him on horseback, his fall from the horse might prove to be dangerous.

Readying himself for a battle, Bane unsheathed his claymore, Witch Slayer. Sensing the magical auras of its wielder's allies, the sword began to glow eerily with an aura of emptiness around it. Theodore felt the blade's lust to devour magic, which set off his own hate of magic, but he knew best to keep that hate onside and unleash it on those who deserved such wrath.

Nine kept silent for a moment, listening to the others' suggestions. But then he piped in with a suggestion of his own.

"As you can probably tell, I am mostly impenetrable to damage. The less-than-adequate weapons these rogues most likely possess will merely glance off my skin. As such, I suggest I charge into their ambush as a distraction. I will be fine long enough for you all to get the drop on them."