We the Unwanted We the Unwanted

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Andrin Deterius (Firth, Helies)

Andrin slowly walked down the cobblestone road, his sword's sheath hung from his belt to rest on his hip. The chill of the fading winter caused Andrin to wrap his cloak more firmly around himself, his breath coming out in a whoosh of condensation. The overcast in the dark sky casted a depressing blanket over the town, a feeling Andrin couldn't help but notice. His boots made a soft clumping sound, but it was inaudible compared to the clack of horseshoes on the stone. He glanced around, taking in the sight of the townsfolk carrying on their normal lives. If only things could be like that, he thought sadly to himself. Andrin finally made his way to the door of a large building. It was tall and wide, almost built like a complex. Imprinted upon the woodwork was an emblem of a shield, a sign reading "King's Guard Recruitment" hanging above the door on a metal plaque. He paused outside the door, took a deep breath, then opened it quickly and stepped inside.

Torches lined the walls of the room, their orange flames burning brightly. A silk carpet covered the floor muffling the sounds of his boots. A pair of guards relaxing in chairs by the door glanced at Andrin as they stood up. "Can we help you?" They asked, hands resting on the swords at their waist.

Andrin nodded, gesturing to the building. "I wish to join the King's Guard. Is this where I'm supposed to be?"

The two men looked to each other, brows raising in question. "We didn't hear anything about a new recruit today. Who recommended you?" They asked pointedly.

Andrin shook his head. "No one. I come of my own accord." He tugged on his gloves, pulling them up higher.

"If that's the case, you need to speak to Officer Keldar. I'll show you where he is." One guard said as he turned and began walking down a hallway. The second guard grumbled and went back to his post, watching the door. Andrin followed the first guard until they reached a door in the hallway. "He's just inside." The guard stated before turning and heading back to the entrance. Andrin cautiously opened the door. A gruff voice called out, demanding him to enter, and Andrin did so as he closed the door behind him.

The room was small, furnished much like a study. A desk sat in the back corner, papers and books sprawled across it haphazardly. Shelves lined the walls covered in stacks of paper as well. Two chair sat in front of the desk with another one behind, where a large man sat scratching his quill onto a piece of parchment. Andrin stood at the door, unsure what to do.

"Well, are ye gonna sit down or what?" The man behind the desk asked, pointing to one of the empty chairs. The man had a thick grey beard and pale blue eyes that seemed to measure up everything about you. Andrin nodded and took the seat, his hands resting on his knees. "So what bring ye to my front door?" The man asked.

"I was told to talk to Officer Keldar about recruitment. I'm assuming you are him?" Andrin answered, his voice composed and level. His icy blue eyes met the man's for a moment, and a feeling of mutual respect seemed to pass between the two.

"Aye. Do you have a letter of recommendation then?" Keldar asked. He returned to his work, his quill scratching equations on the paper.

"I'm afraid not, sir." Andrin replied. The quill stopped moving again as Keldar returned his gaze to Andrin.

"A background application then?" Keldar asked, giving Andrin a questionable look. Andrin shook his head in response. "Then I can't accept ye. You need a background check or something to prove we aren't being handed a useless bag of flesh."

"Trust me, I am not useless." Andrin declared. He stood up for effect, placing his hands on the edge of the desk.

"What's yer full name lad?"

"Andrin. Andrin Deterius." Andrin replied, a bit of both honor and depression creeping into his voice. The last word caused Keldar to stop everything as he studied the young man in front of him.

"Deterius you say? Are you the son of Jermaine Deterius?" Keldar asked. Complete seriousness was etched in his eyes as he sat back. Andrin nodded again, taking his seat. Keldar tapped the end of his quill against his chin for a moment before standing up and pacing. "I knew your father. Was a strong officer 'till about a year ago when the demon drink got to him." He sighed before turning back to Andrin. "He saved my life once, a few years ago. Never repaid 'im since." Keldar strode back to his desk and sat in his chair. He grabbed a fresh piece of paper from a crate next to his chair, dipped fresh ink onto his quill, and began writing on the paper. He was silent as he did so, the only sound in the room the scratch of the tip. Finally he rolled the paper up and stamped it, handing it to Andrin. "Don't let me down, lad. I consider my debt to yer father repaid." He said before returning to his work. Andrin nodded and took the paper, putting it in his shirt. "You can find the recruits down the hall. Speak to the commander." Keldar said as Andrin departed.

He found his way to the armory, where the recruit commander was busy examining the equipment. Blades, shields, and and sets of armor were arrayed in an orderly fashion in various containers and shelves, each polished and sharpened for maximum efficiency. Andrin approached the commander, presenting the paper to him. Taking the paper, the commander smiled at Andrin. "Another recruit, hmm? Perfect." The commander read through the letter before finishing it and giving it back to Andrin. "Deterius? You're father was a good man. It is a shame he was lost. The blacksmith's resting right now, so talk to him first thing in the morning to get your gear. Get some rest, you're going to need it." The commander said threateningly. He flung a small pouch of gold to Andrin, who caught it easily. "This is for food. You're bed is the fifth one in the 5th dorm." Andrin nodded and headed down the corridor the commander pointed to him until he came to the barracks. A line of straw pads were arrayed on the floor, most containing a sleeping recruit. Andrin quietly crept into the room and laid upon his, careful not to awaken any of the recruits. He lied there for a few moments, staring into the ceiling before his eyes fell shut with exhaustion.
 
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Thanos Georgiou (Castle Guardhouse, Andaris, Helies)
The heavy thud of armor against wood inches from his head started Thanos from his deep sleep and nearly out of his chair. Blearily, he grasped the hilt of his sword, reactions still dulled from the drink and the early morning hour.

“Good morrow, Captain. I would just like to remark how fortunate you are that the guards assigned to last night’s shift were from our squadron and not Bigges’. It wouldn’t do for the other units to see what a drunken fool our fearless leader can be.”

There was only one lieutenant in the entirety of Andelorn that could use such a cheerful tone to skillfully gut the pride of a man in a few sentences and Thanos had the good fortune to have him as his right-hand man.

With a few choice curses, he wiped his mouth and face the hem of his shirt, trying to scrub the memory of the night before off. The pale blue light filtering through the window set above the door indicated it was only a few hours from sunrise. Bits and pieces of memory came back to him slowly as Lieutenant Yves continued on.

“There’s a letter and package for you from your family in Rollon, as well as some request forms for larger armor for Daves because that boy has put on muscle like no other since he started eating properly. It would be nice if it wasn’t such a pain in the ass to get replacements from the Armory. Fantrist threw up in the commode again last night. The Quartermaster is picking a fight with the Twins on account that they won’t stop flirting with his daughters and that’s just the beginning of everything that happened last night that I had to deal with as you fucked off for what you said was ‘a ride to clear your head’ and then somehow ended up being drinking cheap rum with the Commander of Archers in the Castle Guardhouse.” A basic sandwich wrapped in cloth was tossed forcefully onto the table, followed by a water skin.

Thanos reached for the water skin first, sating his thirst and hopefully warding off the incoming hangover. He splashed the last few mouthfuls on his face and shook the clinging droplets off. “My sincerest apologies, Lieutenant.” His voice sounded like he had swallowed gravel and he could feel the filth coating his mouth.

Yves muttered, fidgeting irritably with his quiver strap before sitting abruptly on the opposing bench. “Early morning training begins in half an hour. You deserve every second.”

Thanos could already feel his neck and upper back twinging from a sleeping hunched over the table. Sighing internally, he quietly accepted the consequences of a night ill spent.

“Has the Commander of Recruits recommended any new recruits to train with us?”
 
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[Illya Lott] Esra T. Montaque (Whitewood Forest, Geraldis)
The blacksmith had been thrilled that his mule was in good shape, and more than that, had a baby. The value of a newborn, as well as a fit adult, was more than enough to cover both the costs of the bow and modifications for Adran's glasses, as well as repair the worn out wheels. Illya still paid him though, because in the end getting the bow was worth it. She stored it in the corner of the wagon and she and Adran left for the camp. By now, it was approaching nighttime.

Illya made a miniature feast when they got back. The Gregorson's brought back so much meat from the up that she had decided to smoke it to bring back to the Fortress. With the new assortments of fruits and vegetables at her disposal, the dinner this time was delicious, and even the cabbage for once had a pleasant flavor alongside the other ingredients. Before she was to assign night watch, she wanted to present Esra with the bow. She walked over and dragged Esra up by her hand.

"Come on." She said. "I got to talk to you."
 
Rajiana Pendragon/Andrin Deterius (Recruitment Offices Firth, Helies)
Joint post- dual writers (Sean & Rex)


Rajiana woke up five hours later, with a knock on the door. He stood up and went to open it, Andrin watching with his eyes barely open. “A letter for Pendragon and Deterius, from Sir Thanos.” States the messenger, handing the message to Rajiana. “Well, aren’t I popular…” Rajiana mumbles and returns to the straw pile. Andrin groans and sits up, “I am Deterius… Andrin Deterius.” whispers the young man, not much older than Rajiana. He nods and gestures Andrin to sit beside him for the news. Rajiana opens the wax seal, and slides the parchment out. “It is a letter from an official, Thanos Georgiou. We are summoned for training.” Rajiana says and hands the letter to Andrin. “Just when I assumed I was about to sit here and rot for a week…” Rajiana mumbles, remembering the skirmish. Andrin reads the letter, and stands up to get his coin pouch. Rajiana stands as well, and grabs his sword. “I wonder why they have us heading to the capital for practice.” Andrin muses before giving Rajiana a curious glance. “That is a bastard sword, not what I thought a recruit would be gifted.”. Rajiana noticed Andrin had no armor, “The blacksmith has it by now.” He says, Andrin nods in acknowledgement.


Andrin walks down the halls to the Blacksmith Forge. The blacksmith looks at him, and points to the equipment on the rack. “Already finished, Deterius.” He states, and Andrin takes the suit of armor. He returns to the dorms, and sees Rajiana ready to leave. He quickly straps the armor on and gestures to the door, beckoning Rajiana first. Rajiana nods, and exits the room. One of the girls clears her throat, catching his attention. He turns, and she hands him a letter. The skirmish notice, it must have fallen out his pocket. His heart beat fast, but he thanked her and concealed it, then immediately left. Andrin eyes this exchange with curiosity, but doesn’t question it and follows. Rajiana walks at an even pace, taking his leadership of the walk in initiative. He hands the letter to the commander, who inspects the signature. “Thanos… alright, you are free to leave. A carriage will be waiting I would assume. Tell the recruiter.” The commander says, and rajiana continues. Andrin follows behind him unquestioning. They arrive at the study, where he hands the letter to Keldar, and he reads it. “Hm… you will be gone for at least a week. Take care then, I will make note.” Keldar says with a yawn. He looked exhausted, bags under his weary aged eyes, chin covered in wiry stubble, and his hands faint. Ink was on the tips of his finger, and his wrist. Rajiana nodded in confirmation of the time he would be absent, and spent no more time in the study before leaving to the stables. Andrin follows behind, admiring the hallways they passed through.


“Deterius, I hear.” Rajiana says after a silence of walking through halls and buildings. Andrin nods, “Lycanthae, I hear.” he responds. Rajiana shakes his head. “Pendragon, Lycanthae is my Teacher.” He corrects. They open the doors of the end of the Recruitment station. The town gates are just ahead. They walk up to a guard, and Andrin shows the letter of Thanos. The guard acknowledges the request, and orders the gates to be opened. The gates were massive steel beasts, unlike the gates of the coast side of the city. They step out of the gates, and see a carriage on the right of the road. “Looks like it has arrived already.” Says Rajiana, and approaches the carriage. The rider looked at him, and cleared his throat. Andrin shows the letter, and the rider gestures to get in. They climb into the carriage, and the seats are surprisingly comfortable. Rajiana looks at the other seat across from his and Andrins, and sees a young lady sitting there.


“Looks like I was correct, the Magister really did sell a boy to the army. Hm... you should know the Capitol is a two day trip from here, if we travel fast.” The lady says with a solemn face, her lips forming words like they were cursive, and her eyes with a light grey color masking the subtle blue. “What are you doing here, on the way to the Capitol? What summons you from Firth..?” Andrin asks, curious rather than inquisitive. She smirks, “Same reason as you, I would assume.” She says, handing over a letter, signed by Thanos. Rajiana glances at the letter, it was identical to theirs. He reaches his hand to shake, and she looks at him suspiciously. “We all best make this week worth it, I suppose.” He says, looking into her eyes. He looked like he was boldly flirting, but he knew that look in her eyes. She was a Lycanthae daughter, and she was here to thwart his drafting. The lady smiled at him, and shook his hand, giving a gesture of subtle confirmation with the tilt of her head. Andrin watched, unsure how to think about this exchange, and assumed Rajiana was making impressions.


“One week makes all the difference to recruits.” She responds, lagging behind an entire minute. Andrin was raising his eyebrow, wondering what exactly they wanted to do in a week. He decided Rajiana had his decision on spending gold, and a one week girlfriend deal was sad but not his business. Rajiana kept a close eye on her during the ride, he never would trust her as a rescuer until the last moment of truth. She was best treated as a thief in the meantime. The carriage began to move, and the horses built up a steady pace. They were headed to Capitol.
 
Thanos Georgiou (Castle Training Grounds, Andaris, Helies)


“Again.” Thanos reiterated, arms crossed and only mildly strained from their morning run. Practice had stretched from the early hours of the morning to a few hours past sunrise, and the heat of the sunrays against his dark skin felt pleasant in the chill spring air.

“Yes, Captain Thanos.” Daves answered.

“This time the sequence is: Miss. Miss. Hit. Understood?” Thanos called, safely behind both Daves and the pell he was practicing on. The heavy battle axe had taken chunks out of the aged wood and it would need to be replaced by the end of the week.

“Yes, Captain Thanos.”

Thanos exhaled heavily through his nose, mouth set in a frown. He hadn’t had time to shave or change this morning. Yves had snickered at his attempts to learn the crossbow during most of their practice on the archery range. And Daves still could not look him in the eye, or call him anything other than Captain Thanos, even though it had been a solid month since his arrival. Respect was one thing, but this was just getting ridiculous.

Daves swung the heavy battle axe, fumbling briefly with rotating the shaft while exchanging hands at the end of his swing. He swiftly changed momentum, doubling back only to miss again. This time, at the end of his muffed swing, the grip exchange went smoothly and the axe hit the pell with a resounding thump and eruption of wood chips.

“You keep misjudging your grip. Any lower and the axe will fly out of your hand midswing.” Thanos chided, carefully keeping all emotion out of his voice. Daves turned his lanky frame to stare with hooded eyes at a point somewhere above Thanos's right shoulder and nodded.

Thanos looked up at Daves, neck twinging from the night before and surmised that it was probably better to back off for a while and allow him to practice without a superior looking over his shoulder.

The gentle giant had come to them as the third son of a minor lord in the Geraldis province. While his bones had been strong and his body well-formed, he was as skinny as a lamb and just as quiet. Upon a tedious questioning where far too many of the answers had only contained one word, Yves was able to divulge that the boy hadn’t been fed as well as his brothers starting two years back, when his lord father had a falling out with the local church.

Easily recognising the steely look in his blue eyes, Thanos had left Yves to his plans and within the week had seen Daves mothered into submission and eating twice the amount of food he normally served himself.

As Daves went back to practicing, the rhythmic sound of two packs jangling could be heard slowly moving closer. The Twins, Jonas and James, finally rounded the corner of the gate to the training fields, plodding the last few meters to collapse in an exhausted heap at his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, Thanos saw Yves glance in their direction before setting his jaw and stalking off, his platinum braid swinging over his shoulder with the force of his turn.

Thanos eyed their sweat-dampened brown hair and shaking limbs and commented briefly. “Clean off and change. The kitchens expect you in a half hour. You’re not leaving until all the vegetables have been peeled for lunch and dinner.” The two tracking and survival experts groaned pathetically before gathering their packs and knives and trudging back up the steep hill to the castle.

Seeing that most of the rest of his unit was occupied with drills (going well) or armour maintenance (they were going to need more oil soon), he took a moment to sit on the stump of the remains of a pell and check his letter from Rollon.


 
Rajiana Pendragon (Carriage ride to Capitol, Helies)

Rajiana yawns and rubs his stubbled unshaven face. They have been riding for an hour, and he was already tired of the bumpy roads. Every pebble in the ground was felt by his feet, but the seats were cushioned slightly. He looked to his right, and saw Andrin sleeping in the seat. He shifted his gaze forward and met it in lock with the girl. She smiles, and reaches her hand out with a letter. He reached for it, and she moved her fingers so as to overlap his as he slid it from her grip. He kept a half-gaze on her after this spontaneous interaction. She looked out the window of the carriage as he opened the letter. She forged the entire thing, replacing their names with hers. Deliciae Floris, he did not see the name Lycanthae, but he knew she couldn't sneak in with such a title. "So... which is it then, blood or salvation?" He etches with his sharp nail onto the parchment. He hands it back, and she reads the vague engraving, and looks at his emotionless face. He looked tired, with dried blood still on the corner of his mouth. She made a body gesture of a catholic cross, and looked back out of the window. "Deliciae Floris sounds like a peculiar name for someone of Helies." Rajiana states, in a barely lowered volume. "Silente, nothus."[Latin translation- '(be) quiet, bastard.'] She says sharply in response. Rajiana nods in agreement, he knew where she was from. She was a Catholic lady from Geraldis, he assumed from her latin response. She was certainly a Lycanthae, who else would bother with a pest like him?

Rajiana looks at her after the sharp insult and immediately responds, "Tu irratus, dulcis puella? Ita vero, silente est ego bonum." ['You are angry, sweet girl? I agree, silence is good for me.'] She looks at him with a very sharp glare. He doesn't react beyond a half-forced chuckle. She took a breath and almost smiled thinking to herself. She strokes her hair as pastime and mumbles "Silente est bonum ego etiam... ego etiam..." ['Silence is good for me as well... me as well...'] She leans a bit forward and stretches, the backs of the chairs are at a sharp angle and hurt your back easily. Rajiana looks at the ground, and sees a few wet spots. "Damned rain..." They hear the carriage driver mutter. He looks at the skies, and sees massive grey clouds hovering over, moving across the skies and preparing for a storm. Rajiana looks at Andrin, who doesn't stir from the bumpy roads anymore than before. The driver begins looking for a cave or shelter, though the rain quickly got heavier and heavier. The rain got so loud it drowned out voices that spoke, and it was the frigid cold rains of early spring. The driver turned the horses into a small cave, and they got out of the carriage onto the damp grass. "Horses will get sick from a storm like this... they haven't been doing well." The driver states, and guides the horses into the opening. Deliciae grabs some things from the carriage, and makes a small sleeping pad for two out from a large sheet of Hessian cloth. The driver climbs onto his seat after unhooking the horses and tying them to a post for the night. Rajiana dragged Andrin out of the carriage, he must have been incredibly tired. He dragged him onto the sleeping pad alongside Deliciae. Deliciae bundled up some of the cloth for a pillow, and lay down. The rain was deafeningly loud, and hard to sleep through.

Rajiana pulled the skirmish notice from his pocket, along with the magnesium. He set the letter on a small impression ledge on the cave wall entrance. He struck the metal beside it, and it caught fire quickly. The parchment burned slowly, but the paper envelope was eaten up in the tongues of heat in seconds. The ink started to burn and simmer, he used a strange ink that he never liked the smell of. The warm ink spread across the parchment, and the message wasn't legible, not even by him. He covered his nose, it smelled awful, and the acidic smell quickly overcame him, and he retreated a few steps. The parchment singed its sides and was smoking. The ink began to drip off of it, onto the stone ledge. When he saw that he couldn't even see the etch marks of the quill for his signature, he walked away from the smoldering ink mess. Deliciae watched him, and she felt his position was verified as well. She smelled the acid of the disgusting ink mix, and knew the origin of it vividly. Rajiana sat five feet away from the burning remains, and watched the pouring rain. He wouldn't count on her to save him, because he knew that he had a strong chance of being sent into the fights.

Next week, Rajiana told himself, you might just find that sweetheart your teacher mentioned. He heard destiny was beautiful, so he wouldn't try to cheat from his meeting. He looked at Andrin, and knew that any escape would be much more difficult with two recruits cheating the army. Hopefully, he thought, his escape didn't involve the cathedral. He could hear the excessive preaching ringing in his ears, and felt a skirmish wouldn't be so bad an alternative.
 
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Adran Triveron (Whitewood Forest, Geraldis)

As the sun began to set, Adran reflected on what he could only describe as a day full of shenanigans. It was rare for him to be able to come out of a freezing cold lake, after almost dying from hypothermia, and being able to look back upon the event and smile. To add to the occasion his newly improved glasses were already proving useful, it was his turn to cook the dinner stew and instead of seeing a blurry mess while he was stirring, every piece of meat and vegetables was as clear as day to him. The most impressive part was the design, while the metal rod that bent around his head wasn't tight enough to completely cut off circulation to his head, it was also secure enough that sudden movements like dodging and ducking wouldn't send them flying anymore. It was a mix of glasses and a circlet and he found them quite fashionable.

He'd wanted to get some practice with his rapier in to see how his form improves with the new capabilities but after the fishing escapade and the blacksmith's ass, he'd had enough for one day, he needed to continue strategizing anyway, for tomorrow would prove crucial in deciding what the Guardians will do next. If he cant make it past the border to Helies, it would be war, of that he was certain, he needed to be at his best to make sure that didn't happen.

As the stew finished, beef and carrot stew since there was meat spare, he passed around the bowls leaving two out for Esra and Illya, who had taken off for a private conversation which Adran could only assume was about that Bow Illya bought. Regardless knowing they'd be back soon, he sat down to eat, and to begin planning.
 
Thanos Georgiou (Castle Training Grounds, Andaris, Helies)

The letter was written on thick, dappled parchment and he already knew who it had come from.

Hello cousin,

This is the sixth letter I’ve sent since you last responded. Knowing that you still receive them, I’ll keep writing faithfully, as the beloved sister-cousin I am, so that I may be completely free of censure when I finally arrive at Andaris and righteously kick your stoic, unresponsive ass back to Windhurst.

Papa has business in the capital and I’m accompanying him along with Sasha and Grey. So, expect us a few days after you receive this, if this letter is posted today. We’re transporting a bulk load of arrowheads, shields and spearheads, alongside the normal order from the Castle. Much larger than usual... I haven’t heard that the castle is having a tourney?

In other news, Maria and William have another child on the way! Little Anne is so excited for her sibling and your friends from Uptown have taken to toasting to the mother and baby’s health every weekend in Hope & Anchor. Every night. Multiple times. They’re going to either get kicked out or go broke anytime this month.

Rouvin has decided to learn sword-fighting, like you. It’s been interesting finding him a teacher. The dock workers have gotten rather protective of him and critical of any teacher that isn’t willing to learn Sign-speak. I wish he would just take to sailing or metal-crafting instead. Heaven knows, he would find plenty a willing teacher if he did. But he’s as stubborn as the rest of the family and manipulates Papa and Gran-mama as prettily as Mama does, so no one stands a chance. Luckily, Papa won’t budge on the rest of his studies, so he’s still stuck in the library with me every morning!

Noa has started joining me for morning rides through the forest. She has acquired an old warhorse (I’m not quite sure from where) and is quickly becoming more natural on horseback. I think you’ll come back to find your sister has quite taken over the stables in your stead. She’s shaping up to be a master rider.

I think they both miss you. We all do honestly. I know you and Uncle Lucas are on bad terms, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t consider you our blood and beloved. You and your company are always welcome in our home.

Speaking of love, your not-lover-yet has started showing up at Scholar Onai’s workroom every morning. Apparently, he’s never consistent on anything except showing up at some point. (I think he showed up without one shoe one day? 4am one day and minutes before noon the next?)

Onai doesn’t seem to know what to do with the attention except yell and grumble like he normally does and I don’t think Allen knows what he’s doing at all. But he’s insistent on taking care of the old man in your place and it seems to be working (from the sheer amount of groceries and papers and trunks I’ve seen him carry every time I drop by the City Hall library).

He’s both quieter and more reckless all at once, now that you’ve stopped responding. Other that his time with Onai, most of us don’t see him at all and his injuries have gotten worse. He had nothing to say when I told him I was sending you this letter, but handed me a piece of sea glass. I don’t understand what that means and I assume I don’t want nor need to. I’ve included it in the package along with some dried seaweed, herbal tea for your headaches, and a set of new quills and fresh parchment. You have no excuse not to write back now.

Much love and exasperation,

Your cousin, Rhea Georgiou
 
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Andrin Deterius (Carriage Ride to Capital, Helies)
Shortly after boarding the rickety carriage and quietly observing the exchange between Raijama and the girl, Andrin fell asleep, his head propped up against the back of the seat. A bump awoken him, and he sat up alarmed. He jerked his head around to spot his location, but the only thing that met his eyes was darkness. The wagon was empty save himself, and he realized it wasn't moving anymore. Suddenly the veil of darkness vanished and was replaced by a clearing in a forest. Andrin carefully clambered out of the wagon. In the middle of the clearing was a sword stuck into the earth. It gleamed in a ray of sunlight that shone through the gap in the canopy above, a beautiful emerald glistening in the pommel. Andrin slowly approached the blade in the grass. His head moved from side to side, watching the perimeter of the clearing for anything. Finally he reached the sword and not knowing what else to do, placed his hand upon the handle and yanked upwards. The sword slid out easily, the blade sharper than anything Andrin had held before. A sound drew his attention behind him and Andrin spun around, brandishing the beautiful blade before him. Jason stood there, holding a sword similar to Andrin's but with a fiery ruby in place of the emerald. The blade itself had a darker sheen to it as well.

No words were spoken between the brothers as they faced off, slowly walking in a circle. Each was watching the eyes of the other, two pairs of blue eyes piercing into each other. Finally Jason moved first, leaping towards Andrin with his sword held high. He quickly chopped downwards, meeting Andrin's sword with a clang. The brothers fought viciously, sword clashing against sword as they tried to weaken the other. Andrin knew he would lose the battle of endurance, he had lost it the first time they had fought, and so he tried something new. After throwing a weak slice at Jason's left, he waited until Jason moved to block the blow when he switched momentum, throwing his fist Jason's unprotected face. He failed to notice Jason's knee slamming into his gut, and Andrin stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over himself. Jason pressed the advantage until Andrin was down on one knee, fighting desperately. Jason over-pressed his offence though, and Andrin was able to get a quick slash at his leg. Jason twisted away, and Andrin was able to get back up. The continuous clashes continued all over again, each brother trading blow for blow again. Andrin felt the battle lasted forever. Suddenly Andrin swiped outwards with a powerful two-handed swing, knocking Jason's blade from his grasp. Both brother's knew the fight was over now as Andrin carefully laid the sword to Jason's neck, the blade grazing the skin. Both brother's stared into each other's eyes. Jason was defiant, pressing his own skin against the sword enough to draw blood.

"Do it, and you win." Jason simply said, watching his brother. Andrin stood there for a long moment, his hand quivering slightly. Finally he drew the sword back, letting it fall to his side. Jason smiled, a wicked looking thing that hurt Andrin inside. "That's why I won our first fight. I will always win, since you lack the conviction to win." Jason sprung forward, a sword flashing out of nowhere, and plunged it into Andrin. Blood began to pool in Andrin's mouth, the coppery taste overpowering his senses. He slowly slumped to his knees, Jason's bloodthirsty eyes burning a sick image into his head. Andrin fell over, tumbling into darkness-

-and jerked upright on his sleeping pad. A shower of rain poured from the overhang, creating an almost solid curtain of water just feet from Andrin's head. Thunder roared overhead as the rain came down in buckets. Despite being wrapped up in a couple warm blankets, a cold sheen of sweat covered Andrin. He looked over to see the girl and Rajiama sleeping next to him. Getting out of the blankets and stretching, Andrin buckled his sword on and threw his hood over his head. He looked back at the sleeping pair before venturing out into the rain. Within seconds, Andrin was thoroughly drenched, but he ignored the cold wetness as he searched the wagon that was left under a tree. Finally Andrin hauled an empty barrel out, throwing it into the mud with a splash. Andrin pulled another barrel and fastened it to the first one, so that the two were firmly stuck in the mud. Andrin took off the glove on his left hand, watching as the rain splashed off his fingers. Then he drew his sword, mesmerized by the water collecting along the shiny blade. Quickly Andrin slashed the sword across the palm of his hand, blood dripping from the wound to mix with the water puddling beneath him. Grimacing with pain, Andrin began slashing into the barrels, cutting them endlessly with pure rage and frustration. His sword caught on them a couple times at first, but he soon developed a way to cut the barrels without catching the blade. Soon all that remained were shards of splintered wood littering the road. Panting heavily, Andrin walked back into the cave. He grabbed a cloth and wiped his sword down, taking care to make sure the sword was dry before sliding it back into it's sheath. He finished by wrapping the cloth around his hand to staunch the bleeding as he settled back down. His rest came uneasy this time, but Jason didn't haunt it again, and he was shaken awake by Rajiama.
 
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Esra T. Montaque
( Whitewood Forest, Geraldis. )

Appearing a bit startled at the suddenness, Esra stared in evident confusion up at Illya, but did not hesitate in the end to get up and follow after her.

"What is it? Do you need help with watch? Or did I miss something...?" Her eyes widen a bit at the last part.
 
[Illya Lott] Esra T. Montaque (Whitewood Forest, Geraldis)
Illya guided Esra to the wagon, smiling to herself for what was to come. Quickly, she adopted a pokerface as she prepared to speak with Esra.

"So you're the last one to be on watch today, and you need to be the most alert. We are approaching Helies territory and we are unsure of how the King's Guard will react. If they are hostile, I need you quick on your feet. Get us up and running as fast as possible." She paused. Now it came down to whether Adran should take watch, especially at a night as crucial as this one. It wouldn't have been uncommon to see King's Guard once they were this far in the forest. "You are to wake me up when your shift ends. I'll take second."

"And," she said, fishing out the bow out from the wagon, "we need to be well equipped on something as dangerous as this mission." She shifted the bow in her grip, tested the string, and glanced up, smiling. "This is for you."
 
Rajiana Pendragon/Deliciae Lycanthae (Roads to Capital)

 Rajiana watched until the rain was no more than a dribble, and the looked at the remains of the notice. It was a hideous mess of burnt animal hide and smeared ink pools. He was satisfied with this, and walked to the driver of the carriage. He shook his shoulder, and the man blinked his eyes slightly wondering who woke him. "Storm is passed." Rajiana says, and walks to the sleepers of the Hessian rug. He places his hand on the girls chin gently, and leans forward to her ear. "ASCENDE INCOMPETUS NOTHUS!" [GET UP YOU WORTHLESS BASTARD!] He yells at her, she wakes up frightened and swears at him in her tongue. "We have miles to cover, or else we are on the receiving end of a pissed officer." Rajiana tells her, and sits by a small pool of the rain water. He cups his hands and submerges them into the icy water, and pours it onto his face. He washes most of the dirt off his face and hands, and walks back to the sleeping mat. "He isn't up?" He says, looking at Andrin sleeping still. Deliciae shrugs, and stretches for a minute after the nap on the rug. Rajiana grabs Andrins shoulders and shakes him. He wakes up instantly, and Andrin sits up, clutching his hand. "It was a nightmare." Rajiana assures him, and walks to the carriage. Deliciae yawns and carries the Hessian to the carriage. Andrin stumbles around, unsure what he had experienced.

"All ready to leave again." The driver says, with his horses connected. Deliciae climbs into the carriage beside Rajiana, not paying attention. Andrin climbs into the carriage after wiping the mud from his shoes on a rock, and lays down again on the opposite side, stretched out. Deliciae positions herself so her head is beside Rajianas lap, and reads a small Latin book. Rajiana stares emptily at the pages as she flips them, not reading a single word. She re-positions herself, and rests her cheek against his leg as she reads more. Rajiana runs his hand through her hair absent mindedly, as he spaces off into the tongue. The book was filled with poetry, and it reminded him of the Cathedral. He remembered the Magister reading to him in both languages, and it made him feel nostalgic. He snaps back to reality when they hit a bump, and realizes his action. She had put the book away, and fell asleep. Sleep... how much damned sleep people can drown in. The driver began whistling a tune, and Rajiana joins in. It was a light rhythm, and simplistic in nature. He looked at Deliciae, and places his hand on her cheek as he whistles the tune, using his thumb to brush the dirt off her face. She reminded him of what he imagined Mary looked like as a child, with an arrogant spice to her. He remembered the Magisters words in his head like an annoying echo. Sweetheart... well, he had no clue how literal it was. In pure spite of his teacher, he suppressed thoughts of her. He couldn't help peak at her occasionally, looking at her parted lips as she slept, and her chest rise slightly as she breathed. Then he remembered how his Magister was related to her, she looked nothing alike. She had red hair, and fair bones. She was fairly tall like her family, and took this as confirmation.

Rajiana stared at the bleak evening landscape, nothing for miles. He began to dose off, and fell deeply asleep minutes later. He dreamed of the smells of burning ink, the putrid liquid. He felt a fair hand on his cheek, and saw his mother. Her face covered with dirt, and tears in her eyes. He reached to touch her, but she vanished. He was alone. He stood in that black abyss with only the smell of burning letters. He looked around, and saw no signs. He started to smell the musty city, and the filthy peasant-folk. He began to cry, even though he was not sad. He cried thick pools of ink, and the droplets fell to spell the name Lycanthae. He was confused, and wiped his eyes, but his hand was covered in blood. His tongue was bleeding rapidly, gushing every second. He reached into his pocket, but there was only the magnesium and a letter. He opened the letter, but it was blank. At the top of the crusty parchment was three words. "Salvation in service." The phrase was disgustingly familiar. The priests of the cathedral preached that payments above 5 silver would guarantee forgiveness, and he hated the practice. He looked up from the paper, and saw the Magister. He held five copper coins, "This, is for the boy." He says, throwing the metal at Rajianas face, who jumped to the side to avoid it. He fell in ink, and heard a scratching sound. The ink was being burned by a fire, and he screamed for help. He screamed every prayer he spoke, and kept drowning as his skin was being burnt like napalm was coating it. The ink was hotter than any flame, and he screamed in anguish.

When the ink began to eat his meat and muscles away, he was woken by talking.
 
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Esra T. Montaque
( Whitewood Forest, Geraldis )

The female stared skeptically towards the other, she knew she would have to watch: it was pretty obvious but... The idea of having pressure like this did make her quite anxious!!! What if she fell asleep on accident? What if they were attacked! Or, what if sh—

Seeing the bow, Esra had large eyes and realized that she had blanked during her crazed thoughts and that Illya had said more and now was seemingly giving her a new weapon. It was amazing, though Esra would not admit that... Okay, she would. Who wouldn't though, when they were stuck with an old now that was ready to splinted up the ungloved hand of the shooter?

"For... Me? Really?" Her eyes shined excitedly and she gripped ahold of the bow firmly but also somewhat shakily. "Thank you, I will do my best to use it well. I may get some training in during my watch, well..." She looked around, not much light and if she was watching that was probably my the wisest. "Maybe not..."
 
Arnólf Greycloak (Guardian Base, Geraldis)

Arnólf and Brandolf soon head outside. The snow is biting at them as they practice against the straw dummies in the cold.
 
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Donovan Blackmoore ( Whitewood Forest, Geraldis )


Spending the day just staring at the supplies had almost been too much for Donovan. He hated to stand guard while the others were out hunting. Most anything was more interesting than standing here. Illya asked him to come because of his experience and here he dallied around with supplies. Many times he organized them and then reorganized. If they were going to have to re-load the wagon then he was going to make sure it would be as fast as possible for when they returned.

At last the familiar bob of the wagon came to the horizon. Squatting just behind the crest of the small hill he watched to be sure it was just Illya, and Adran. Sure enough, it was only them. Nothing that should have shocked him. Still it was good practice to assume that all was not well.

******************************************************************

After the meal was done Donovan kicked his feet up and relaxed a little more. It felt good and it hurt at the same time. He hadn't eaten meat in such copious amounts for so long that his guts didn't seem to want to digest it. Only seemed like a short while after the full feeling left that it was replaced with a steady ache. Donovan could tolerate all kinds of pain but, he wasn't much good with his stomach.

While he was stretched out he couldn't help looking over at Adran every now and then. The tremendous set of goggles looked odd on the small frame. Somehow Adran always looked delicate to Donovan. Those glasses only made it worse. When the other man turned toward him Donovan's eyes got wider and then he started to laugh. Adran's eyes were bulgy and highly disproportionate to his face with the spectacles on. "Lord I hope you can see better with those on. You look like a half strangled bird." It didn't help that Adran's hair had a slightly stringy quality. At least that was how it looked to Donovan since he had a bush head and he kept his hair short for the purpose of control.

Shaking his head Donovan tried not to look but, it was impossible not to. Even a side profile was comical with the seemingly giant chunks of metal and glass perched on Adran's nose. Chuckling again he sunk a little lower and pulled his legs up. The pain in his guts started to intensify and it was the only reason he hadn't the energy to harass the doctor any further.

Groaning he rolled to his side and curled into a ball. "Ugh...That's what I get for being a damn hog." Mumbling under his breath he reminded himself why one shouldn't eat the first meat of spring like that. He made the same mistake every year and swore to himself he wouldn't do that again. Moving closer to the fire he let the heat radiate around him. The added warmth seemed to help and then he got a hot cup of water to soothe the rest of digestion. At first the liquid only seemed to sit on top and Donovan burped loudly. If he hadn't closed his mouth at the last it would have brought up part of his supper. "That wasn't as good the second time." Finally the water started to warm his guts and he felt the food begin to digest rather than sit like a rock.

Donovan felt much better after about 2 hours. Night was coming close to an end and stretched a little before settling under a blanket. As he was closing his eyes he thought of something and jumped back up. "Illya." Shuffling over to her, he took a deep breath. "I know we've been rotating. Don't put Adran out there. Its the worse possible time. We're closer than we've been this whole time to the capital and most at risk. Nothing against him, I just doubt his ability." There were a great many things that he doubted with Adran. Not to mention there was Essra. She might be alright though she was still rather immature at times. "I would rather that you put me on for another night."
 
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Andrin Deterius (Wagon Ride to Capital, Helies)

Andrin smiled to himself as he watched the two bicker in the strange language. He knew they were yelling at each other by the harsh way they said their words, but he could tell from their body language that they were interested in each other. He noticed the girl fall asleep in Rajiana's lap and how he looked at her as she slept. Soon he too nodded off, leaving Andrin and the wagon driver awake. He settled back, watching the scenery slowly roll by. There were hills in the distance, random patches of trees jutting towards the sky. A rut in the road cause the wagon to jump up slightly, Andrin wincing as his hand smacked onto the wagon. He held it carefully, looking at the small blood splotches showing through the rag.

"Aye, that's a nasty cut you got on your hand." The wagon driver remarked, holding the reins casually. His voice was deep but raspy, like there was something stuck in his throat. Andrin tossed a look over his shoulder to the sleeping couple before climbing over to sit next to the driver.

"I was a fool." Andrin replied, still looking at the cut. "It could get infected. I wasn't thinking straight."

The driver glanced over at the young man. He was slightly pudgy, dirt caking his boots and the bottom of his pants. He wore a big coat that was dark brown, and a hat rested atop his head. His face was by no means remarkable. Everything from his nose to the space between his eyes felt just a tad bit off, slightly off center from where they should be. Patches of hair clung to his face, giving the man a ragged look. His eyes were dull gray like a storm cloud. "You better get that cleaned then. The smallest cuts can have the deadliest... repercussions." He paused a moment before saying the last word, as if he had to draw it from memory.

"Do you know anyone who could look at it for me?" Andrin asked. He noticed the edges of the cut were slightly red, but hoped it was nothing too serious.

"Aye, I know a man. He owns a lil shop down Merrybrook Ave." The driver coughed mildly for a few moments, spitting out a glob of disgusting green stuff. He settled back into silence, watching the road.

Andrin nodded and without saying anything else climbed back into the rear of the wagon, carefully not to use his left hand. He relaxed again, propping his legs against the bench across from him. He glanced at Rajiana and Deliciae again. "Man, it must be nice to be in love." Andrin mused to himself quietly. The driver shrugged and remained silent. Andrin pulled a coin from his pouch, flicking it into the hair and rolling it across his knuckles. The gleam of the light reflecting off the gold reminded Andrin of the sheen his sword had in the rain. He slid the sword from it's sheath, admiring it and running his finger along the grooves of the family emblem etched near the cross guard. He carefully removed the glove from his right hand, comparing the symbol on the sword to the one burned in his palm. He sat there for a minute watching the two before finally putting the glove back on and sliding the sword back into it's sheath. He glanced over again, noticing that Raijana's face had changed. Pain flickered on his face for a moment before relaxing, an action so quick Andrin almost thought he imagined it. But then it appeared again, Rajiana's face wincing slightly.

"Looks like I'm not the only one with nightmares." Andrin muttered, playing with the coin again. He flicked it into the air, catching it with one finger. "What are you dreaming about, you strange person?" Another bump from the wagon jolted Andrin's hand, and his coin fell to the floor of the wagon with a clack. He scooped low and picked it up, putting the coin back into his pouch. He turned to face the back of the driver. "How much longer until we reach the capital?" He asked.

The driver said nothing, simply pointing towards the horizon. Andrin placed his hand over his brow, looking through the glare of the morning sun. Sure enough, there lie the capital, gleaming in the distance. Satisfied, Andrin laid back again, watching the clouds slowly roll by as the remnants of the storm slowly dispersed. I wonder why Thanos wants us at the capital. Andrin thought, theorizing. It has to be something big. You don't just pull recruits for 'training in the capital.' Perhaps an army is being formed, or the rebels finally did something serious. He flicked his head, swishing his long hair out of his eyes. Guess I won't know until we get there. He nudged Rajiana with his boot. "Come on. The capital nears." He watched as Rajiana's eyes fluttered open, but still weren't completely awake. Andrin shrugged and started up a new conversation with the driver about what it was like in Luinia.
 
[Illya Lott] Donovan Blackmoore (Whitewood Forest, Geraldis)

Illya raised her eyes in surprise when Donovan approach her with the comment about Adran. It was unlike him to think about something so far ahead, or as she thought.

She had in fact decided the same thing when she talked with Esra moments before. Adran's eyesight was her main concern, but his sharpness as a fighter was lacking compared to the rest of the members in the party. Her answer was obvious.

"Actually, now that you brought it up, I fully intended to take the second shift. I already talked to Esra about it just now." She paused. "Do you mind relaying the information to Adran?"

The truth was she didn't want to tell Adran personally, because she knew he would have some qualms about it. But the safety of the entire group came in priority; she would trust him, but a lot was at stake and she was more comfortable if she was the one in the pressure.
 
Donovan Blackmoore ( Whitewood Forest, Geraldis )

Donovan nodded in agreement. "Aye, I could do that." Though he was personally glad that the commander wasn't going to let the blind bat watch he tried to contain it. Containing some kinds of news was difficult. Wandering back toward the camp he held his hand over his stomach. It was flat but, he could have sworn there was a hug bulge in his guts. Normally he would have pushed to be the one to watch but, his stomach still hurt a little and he wanted to sleep it off.

Plopping down in his usual spot again, Donovan looked over at Adran. "You'd better get some sleep. Might as well enjoy it." This was the part he was happiest about though it wasn't for mean reasons. "Illya is taking your watch." Donovan wasn't sure what to expect for a reaction. Often an officer would give something like this to be passed on through someone like himself because he could handle an argument or fight just fine. If he had to Donovan was willing to tackle Adran to the ground. It was doubtful it would come to something like that. Would Adran just accept it like he seemed to accept everything else or would he fight?
 
Rajiana Pendragon/Deliciae Lycanthae (Capital of Helies, Helies)

Rajiana sees light, and blinks his eyes. He was in the wagon, he wiped his lips with his arm, no blood. No ink. He sees Andrin sitting beside the driver. "I take it we are nearing?" Rajiana says in a half garbled mumble. Andrin nods, and points ahead. Rajiana stretches, and rests his hands on his lap, but one landed on soft hair and skin. He looks down, and sees her curled up halfway on his lap as she blink sleepily. He didn't like her to be sleeping on him, but was less concerned with that. She yawns, and attempts sitting up. Rajiana grasps her hand quickly, and supports her as she stirred. "I best be glad you aren't a noble, I like my neck with skin." Rajiana states, with an almost pissed off tone. She doesn't bother to listen as she stretches and rubs her temples. "Wake up sleepyheads, capital nears." Andrin says with a smile on his face. Rajiana gestured a thumb bite, and Andrin looks forward again with a laugh. Clearly even a person raised in the woods doesn't have to be a morning riser.

The carriage draws near the gates of capital, and Deliciae gets very tense. She leans over to his ear and whispers in a misleadingly seductive tone, "Ego est tu Amantris, aliter mortum." [I am your lover, else we die.], Rajiana understood the message and responded with a half grin. Find a sweetheart, he heard in his teachers voice, or they die. Simple as that, it seems. He was her partner in scandal, practically. Except he didn't have to lift a finger. Rajiana watched as the carriage pulled up to the grand gates. Massive stone bricks, with moss growing on them. The pure brass and mahogany doors were impregnable. The guard walked to the carriage, and They showed their letter of invite. The gates creaked open, and the carriage drove through. The city was grand, it had smooth roads and every store they would need. The streets smelled of flowers and herbs as they drove through the markets, it smelled of acid and metal as they drove through the blacksmiths shops, and everyone had fine clothing. Rajiana preferred this to a port city. Deliciae was coating her face in dust, and pulling a cowl over her head. This was a daunting threat to her if noticed, she believed. Rajiana disagreed, because the Lycanthae's had the privilege to roam unexpected.

The carriage arrived at the main armory and military base in the city, except there was another gate. A guard walked forward, and demanded papers. Andrin hands the invite, and the guard reads it. "Looks all fine... Except who is this girl?" He asks condescendingly. She looks him in the eye and parts her lips, Rajiana knew her planned words. He needed to correct it. "She is our main escort, hired by my Magister to ensure my safety. Magister Imperious Lycanthae." Rajiana explains, and the guard nods. "Lycanthae's have interesting ways." He agrees, and unlocks the gates. They get out of the carriage and the driver tips his hat. Rajiana offers ten silver, but the driver declines. "I have been payed an advance of two gold ones for the ride." He says, with a giddy smile on his face. Andrin hops out of the carriage, and wishes the driver luck. They walk through the gates, onto the property of the military. Whoever Thanos is, they would meet them soon. Just beyond the halls of the building awaits their training. Today would be their pivot point, or a waste of their time.
 
Adran Triveron (Whitewood Forest, Geraldis)

As the man sat across from Adran, his words took the doctor aback, concerned that he didn’t hear Donovan correctly, he inquired "I'm sorry?" “What are you sorry for?” Adran resisted the urge to put his face in his hands. “No, I mean, what did you just say?” The smaller man leaned back in his seat slightly “You don’t have watch. What’s so complicated about that?”

“Can you explain why I don’t have watch?” His frustration growing with every sentence Donovan spoke. Donovan glanced at him “I don’t trust you and chances are Illya doesn’t either. New bulgy eyes don’t make you a miraculous watchmen. That and we’re in dangerous territory. I’d rather somebody that knows what they’re looking for was out there.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, not since before he left home has Adran ever felt so undervalued. “Do you take me for some sort of imbecile? I know what a threat is when I see one.” “Do you?” Donovan rose from his seat as he spoke “I haven’t noticed any particular skill when you train. Besides you’re soft and I don’t think you could stay up all night and ride all the next day if your life depended on it. You haven’t the endurance for this kind of life.”

His mind flashed back to those nights he spent on the run in Luina. When he didn’t have a roof over his head he would stay up for days in fear that if he fell asleep in a random alley the King’s Guard would find and imprison him. With a soft humorless chuckle he replied “Soft is it?” He rose to match his comrade, anger boiling. “Don’t presume you know me or what I’ve been through Donovan. I can assure you I have the endurance to handle a simple night’s watch.”

“I don’t presume to know you. What I know is from what I’ve seen. Cold water makes you turn into a quivering mess!” He grabbed Adran’s shoulders and pushed down attempting to force Adran to sit “Any soldier worth his salt takes orders. This is easy. You go to sleep tonight and let a more experienced soldier watch.”

Adran held his ground, he’d let the barbarian intimidate him last time at the fortress, he won’t make the same mistake again. “I shirk away from freezing water because I have a brain, I know what it can do to a man. I also know what the King’s Guard can do to a man and I know how to avoid such a fate. So for you to presume I can’t handle this without even giving me an opportunity seems very ludicrous to me!”

Donovan let go and Adran thought he saw a hint of both surprise and respect in Donovan’s eyes. “Then you’re a fool to assume that Illya and I don’t know what we see. You have very little discipline as a soldier and you’re not ready. Now go to sleep.” As Donovan returned to his seat Adran asked with dread in his heart “Then Illya herself made this decision?” The soldier smirked back at him “I don’t give orders for fun.”

His gaze shifted away from Donovan, he could believe that the barbarian wouldn’t respect his abilities, but Illya showing such little faith in him hurt Adran deeply. “Fine, I’ll trust in her judgement as she is my superior, this time. But I find the irony humorous.” He couldn’t resist the urge to take a jab at his rival’s hypocrisy. “You told me you never learn if you back out halfway. How am I supposed to learn to be a soldier without experience like this?”

“You learn to obey orders first” Donovan said as he sat down. “Then when you have discipline you learn to be a warrior.” Adran just stood there speechless for a moment, then returned to his sleeping area, frustrated and confused. “I was outwitted by a barbarian again?” He muttered under his breath. “What’s happening to you Adran?”
 
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