---

“I should have brought a book.”

Viluppo quietly admonished himself as he sat, beset on all sides by strangers sitting in the same type of uncomfortable wooden chair. They had all been waiting in those chairs for quite some time, as the numerous groans and the impatient shuffling of feet suggested. Viluppo ignored the rabble and looked back at the stone wall to his left. Over the past hour he had made something of a game out of it; he would pick a spot on the wall that looked particularly cracked or worn and then stare at it until it started to resemble something else. So far he had seen a lightning bolt, a stable that was starting to collapse, and a man wearing a ludicrously large hat. Before Viluppo could begin his fourth game something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

It was the tattered remnants of a large veil. It makes sense, Viluppo thought. This building probably used to be a temple. Worn from age, the snow white veil had begun to give way to the darkened hue of rot. Looking closer at it the young man could barely make out the holy seal. The seal was a peculiar symbol that wouldn't be recognized as holy by anyone unfamiliar with it. Its top half resembled a walking cane, the curved grip pointing to the left. The bottom of the cane led down into something shaped like the letter ‘U’, but wider than it was tall. Below that was a diamond shape that pierced the middle of the shape above it.

Viluppo thought back to the first time he had seen the seal in his youth. He could almost hear the lilting words of his mother explaining it to him...




The seal meant little to Viluppo these days, and he suspected that many of the people in the room with him felt the same way.

“Viluppo!”

An authoritative voice banished the young man’s reminiscent thoughts. A short, gruff-looking older man appeared through a door, the leftmost of many, and impatiently beckoned Viluppo inside. As he followed the man in he looked back at the crowd, glancing at a middle-aged balding gentleman. The gentleman returned his glance and muttered something that sounded like ‘lucky bastard’.

That’s odd. I’m certain that man was here before I got here, Viluppo wondered as he walked.

The narrow dimly lit hallway behind the door soon led to a small room. With its stark ivory walls and cold stone floor it resembled an old punishment room, where particularly disruptive church-goers were escorted to. The plethora of papers and forms covering much of the floor suggested that the room was now an office.

“Will the officer be…” Viluppo’s question was met with the slam of a door as the gruff man abruptly left. The young man sighed and looked around. Only a large wooden desk broke the monotony of the endless mounds of paper strewn about. He dared not touch anything and just stood as still as he could.

“At ease.” Another man soon appeared through the door, meeting Viluppo’s gaze with stern eyes. His chainmail clinked quietly as he marched to the desk. He reached into a pile of papers and pulled one out, apparently knowing exactly where it was. “You’re the first one I’ve seen today that didn’t mess with my forms.” The merest smirk crept onto the man’s face. “Normally you would have waited a lot longer and then met with some State grunt before getting to talk to a registration officer. But I’ve taken an interest in you, boy. Just don’t let that go to your head.”

Viluppo’s calm blue eyes hid his confusion. He looked over the officer trying to figure out if he’d seen him before. He had large powerful hands caked with dirt, very short-cropped hair not unlike Viluppo’s own, and an obvious soldier's gait. But the man’s face stood out more than anything; three large scars were carved into it, two on the right cheek and one just above his left eye. Viluppo felt that he had stared a bit too long and decided to break the silence. “I did not catch your name, sir.”

“I didn’t give it,” the officer scowled in response, his commanding bass voice filling the room with ease. “Let’s get down to business. I’m sure you’ve gone over the introductory papers, but I’m required to summarize them.” The officer dug through another pile and pulled out a small packet. He cleared his throat and began to read. “’As established by Our Lord Anderson, a Band is a small squad of civilians who are legally bound to the State of Coleander. Though not officially recognized as soldiers or peacekeepers, the civilians that constitute a Band will be assigned various tasks to improve the lives of the State’s citizens and assist the ongoing restoration and protection of the State and its allies. Bands are to follow orders to the best of their ability… compensation, monetary or otherwise, may be awarded to Bands following a successful mission… Bands may be subsumed into the State military during war time activities and emergency situations… the State is not responsible for any injuries or deaths sustained during missions…” The officer threw the packet across the room. “You get the idea, I’m sure. If you still wanna do this, you need to recruit others to your cause. You, by yourself, are nothing. Remember that.”

“Yes sir. I will take your words to heart,” Viluppo answered eagerly.

The officer’s smirk returned for a moment. “They taught you respect, at least.” The officer picked up another form and a wooden plaque and handed them to Viluppo. “That plaque has the insignia of the Band on it. Use that to let others know that you’re legitimate. Anyone interested in joining a Band will know what it means. Once you’ve assembled your men, have them sign that contract and bring it back to me. Again, you’d normally have to go through a couple of State men before an officer would review your contract and make your Band official. But just bring it back to me and I’ll take care of it.”

The officer walked back to the door and opened it, pausing before he went through it. “By the way, my name is Forze. But it’s Hossar Forze to you. Now get going, trooper.”

That last word caught Viluppo off-guard. He was certain he had heard it before, but he couldn’t quite remember where. He also didn’t know anyone by the name Forze, much less one as high-ranked as a Hossar. Viluppo decided to ruminate on these things later and exited the office.

Soon he was outside, the blazing rays of summertime rapidly descending upon him. The court in front of the State building was alive with townsfolk, many of them peddling their wares in scant hopes of earning some gold or carrying bundles of food and other goods back to their homes. Viluppo scarcely noticed them as he slowly advanced down the cobblestone road, staring vacantly at the wooden plaque Forze had given him. Carefully carved into the wood was the Band insignia, a vaguely triangular shield adorned with five eyes. Holding the plaque imparted the young man with self-assurance that he hadn’t felt in a long time, a confident feeling that he truly could make a difference.

After wandering around the courtyard a bit Viluppo got an idea. He knew deep down that the best way to attract potential Band members would be to set up shop somewhere, perhaps near the more desolate farming fields or outside a recruitment building. He knew that he should purchase a cheap roadside stand and flag down anyone who seemed remotely interested. But instead he raised the plaque as high above his head as he could, in hopes that some brave adventurer would see.

“I suppose this is as good a place as any to start.”

(date unknown)
"Do you ave anything to say for yourself, General?"
"I confess to all for which I stand accused."
"So be it. For the crimes of extortion, mass murder, and betrayal to the church and crown, you are hereby punished to death. By confession of guilt, you shall be removed of all properties, physical and otherwise, to be stripped of all titles, and buried in an unmarked grave."
"One last request, my lord?"
"What is it?"
"Leave my with my armour."
(one month ago)
A large man in ornate mail enters the town square, just as the market stalls open for the day. he stops at a flower vendor, purchasing a bundle of marigolds.
"Meeting a lady-friend?" the women asks cheerily, moving to hand him the blossoms, however she hesitates a moment when she notices the eery glow coming from beneath his helm
"Not exactly." the knight replies calmly, taking the flowers and replacing them in her hand with a small satchel of coins "Paying my respects." with that, he turns to leave, making his way to the settlements place of worship.

(today)
Not far from the band registraton office, in a small cemetery, stands a large heavily armoured man, positioned at the last grave in the last row, atop each headstone rests a marigold and a cluster of white bramble flowers, under his breath, he whispers, some sort of prayer
"-for my failure a thousand deaths, that those lives I have laid to waste may not be in vain" he utters, bending down to pick up the weapon from his feet, slinging an enormous sword across his silver cloaked shoulders, with that, the strange knight departs the graveyard, walking steadily to the band offices
"Perhaps it has finally come to pass," the man muses to himself, entering the office courtyard.
"Where does forgiveness lie?" Solace mutters beneath his breath, scanning the area "Do I lead, or shall I follow" he ponders, looking at the other prospective band members and leaders, observing them silently for a few moments. as he waits, the old soldier sees an eerily familiar symbol, the holy seal of Alberon, moments later he notices a man, young in the face, holding a sign above his head with the symbol for a band "And so he shall follow." the man thinks to himself, hesitating only slightly as he enters what was once hallowed ground, before approaching the young blue eyed man.
"Excuse me, child, but are you perhaps recruiting members for a new band?" he says, voice booming over the excited masses "If so, I believe I can be of some use to you."

Osborn had traveled plenty in his short span of life, from all over his homeland of Griffan, to even the oddest corners of the neighboring lands, and yet he had never set foot in such a troubled place as he had when he arrived in Coleander. Sure, the first few nights had been fine, but that was only for as long as he could keep his pockets filled with money. He hadn’t anticipated finding small work to be this hard, even in a shambled state like this, but there he was, broke and hungry and not exactly enjoying himself. It’d been five days since he’d entered the state, and the last two had been spent sleeping outdoors. He had just enough cash for a small meal, if he found the right place, but was honestly more willing to spend it on alcohol at this point.

“If I don’t get a drink in me soon, I might just die before ever finding myself a band to afford a drink with.” Osborn whined loudly to himself, followed by a groan as he yawned and stretched his back. He’d been sleeping just fine only a few hours earlier, curled up in a surprisingly quiet alleyway towards the center of town, but was woken up when the sounds of people and traffic began to pick up. Now he was in the heart of it all, weaving in and between people while they crowded around stalls and their keepers. He moved at a leisurely pace, keeping an ear out for any mention of the band system and possible work.

That was what he’d traveled so far in search of, after all: a band to join. He’d heard through rumors that the king was willing to pay its bands a pretty penny in exchange for following orders dished out by the state and its people. Basically, it was grunt work, but Oz didn’t mind that, as long as the pay was honest and good. He’d yet to actually find a band worth joining though, and was beginning to tire of wandering around broke and drinkless.

"Excuse me, child, but are you perhaps recruiting members for a new band?"

The booming voice glided over the bustling sounds of people like a grand horn, catching the ears of the raven haired drifter. The words “new band” were all that really sunk into his head before he was suddenly sliding his way through the crowds in the general direction of the voice. Soon enough, he spotted the source: a tall, armored man. He was presumably addressing the younger man in front of him, who was holding a wooden sign with the bands’ symbol carved into it.

“Well, that was simple.” Oz chirped with a widening grin, and strode towards the two with a faster pace. “If the big guys’ right, then sign me up too.” He spoke quickly and confidently, before the man holding the band sign had a chance to answer the armored fellow. He didn’t want to be rude and step on anyone’s toes, but if it came to competition, Oz wasn’t about to lose his chance to join a band to anyone.

Viluppo could scarcely believe his good fortune; such a small amount of effort caught the attention of two capable-looking fellows. Struggling to keep his giddiness locked behind a calm visage, Viluppo turned to Oz. His toned arms and sharp eyes gave an impression of experience, someone who has seen much during his travels. Certainly an advantage in the profession he sought.

"Well, as I was about to tell Sir Knight here, I'd be honored to work with you. Do you know Sir Knight? You seemed to follow him right to m..."

After glancing back at Solace, something about the armored man demanded Viluppo's attention... or rather, something he carried. An impressive looking greatsword peeked out behind the massive knight. The jewel in its crossguard seemed to gleam in the noontide light. Viluppo began to excitedly pace around Solace to get a better look at the sword, his usual propriety giving way to curiosity.

"This is a remarkable blade! The kind that you would get up in Griffan at a wastrel's price! And I can faintly feel its rhythm, even!" Normally weapons like this are made so that its divinare is concealed by that of its owner. So some rogue can't just channel its magic and use it against you, of course. But if I focus I can feel a little divinare spill forth from the hilt! It must pack quite a magical punch! Where did you get it?"

Viluppo's passion started to dim as he realized the stares he was getting. The young man calmed himself down and looked at Solace and Oz with a more composed countenance. "I... apologize for all the questions, but I do have two more. What are your names? And why do wish to join me?"

The armored man is wary as Viluppo rushes behind him to examine the blade upon his back"I suppose it is quite impressive," the soldier says, shifting his stane and carfully drawing his blade, "I often forget how uncommon such tools are now." Solace adds, voice lowering to a rumble to avoid disturbing the crowd further as he rests the large sword point first in the ground, allowing the curious blue eyed youth to examine it"I feel great pity for the bandit that attempts to turn it upon me, the steel is tuned to prevent such tomfoolery." he utters, "Merely probing, however, will deliver no proper backlash." with that, he returns the mighty sword to its place at his back "I suppose you could say it was a family heirloom, a set with my armor. forged by a famous member of my clan more years ago than I can count."

He sighs, eyes flickering out for a brief moment"You may call me Solace, child." the old knight says, turning to acknowledge the roguish individual who had tailed him "I have never met this young man in my life." he extends an armoured hand to each of them, moving smoothly in spite of his armors bulk "And I seek honest work for honest pay, I merely have a limited set of skills with which to do so." he lies, his focus shifting briefly to the worn symbol carved in the old temple wall.

So the kid was familiar with divinare and weaponry? That was a good sign. Oz watched the blue eyed man quickly circle the armored fellow, rambling off about stuff that Oz only barely caught and understood himself. He felt much more interested in this band now that there was a chance that he’d be working with someone skilled in divinare. Despite not understanding how the stuff worked himself, he knew well enough how powerful of an asset such users could be.

Oz gives the armored man a quick glance after he gives his name, now a bit interested in his other possible future band-mate. He obviously had to be good in a fight, what with the weapon he’s carrying being so nice. At least, he assumed it was nice, going off of what blue eyes had spouted about it earlier. Oz’s eyes lit up a bit, glancing over at blue eyes again. Maybe he’d really lucked out and this was a band with potential? It’d mean getting that drink a whole lot sooner.

“My name’s Oz.” He introduced himself after the armored man had gone silent, extending a hand towards the blue eyed man. “I’m a simply a traveler looking for good paying work.” He stated casually, his grin ever present on his cheeks. “Hoping to find some through the band system. I heard it was working out quite well and thought I’d join too.” He added happily.

After learning the two adventurer's names and listening to their stories Viluppo smiled, apparently satisfied with their answers. Oz offered a handshake and Viluppo gladly obliged, giving the traveler's hand a single firm shake.

"I'm glad to meet you Solace, Oz. My name is Viluppo Estrick. I'm... not exactly new to this line of work, but I have never been part of a Band before. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the State but the War of Arms took quite a toll on us all. Honest work has been hard to come by lately, what with fewer jobs, the value of gold increasing, the closing of some trade routes... you get the idea. Lord Anderson's thought was that common folk like us could help revive the State by taking on jobs that the soldiers or the guard would normally do. So if you're prepared to assist me and earn an honorable living, I would have you sign this contract."

Viuppo held out the Band's Contract for Solace and Oz to see.



After allowing them ample time to read, Viluppo lent the pair a pen and they signed the contract.

Viluppo rolled the parchment up and pointed to the registration building he had left not long ago. "Well sirs, if you'll follow me."

Soon the trio was in the waiting room of the building, surrounded by many of the same impatient townsfolk that Viluppo sat with earlier. Before long Viluppo spotted the short gruff man again and approached him with a small gleam in his eye. The gruff man let loose a glare full of scorn when he requested to speak with Forze again, but nevertheless went through the leftmost door to pass along the message. Within a couple of minutes the gruff man returned and motioned for Viluppo, Solace and Oz to enter Forze's office.

The three men shuffled into the office to be faced with Forze sitting behind his desk, his hands clasped together and supporting his chin. If the officer was the least bit surprised to see Viluppo again so soon he hid it flawlessly. Forze silently outstretched his hand and gave an implicit order for Viluppo to relinquish his contract, which he did. Viluppo imagined that his two new compatriots would find the endless mounds of paperwork to be a baffling sight, but he was too nervous to glance back at them or do anything but watch Forze review the contract. After a handful of extremely long seconds Forze slowly got up from his chair and bridged the distance between himself and Solace. The officer stared fearlessly into the knight's concealed face, despite the fact that he had to look upward to do so. He then repeated the gesture with Oz. Immediately after staring the two down Forze went back to his desk as though nothing had happened.

"Everything looks to be in order, trooper. The three of you are now officially a Band."

Despite his joy at hearing this, Viluppo responded with an inquiry. "Forz... er, Hossar, sir... Why do you call me 'trooper'?" The more he heard the nickname, the more familiar it seemed, somehow. But try as he might, he couldn't remember its origin.

Forze utterly ignored the question and continued on in his deep booming voice. "If you end up with more people who wanna join you later, just bring them here and have them sign the contract. Also, you'll need this while you're out on a mission." Forze dug a small chain necklace from his pocket and handed it to Viluppo. On the end of the necklace was a charm with the Band's insignia. "That will let others know who you work for."

Viluppo, not someone who enjoyed wearing jewelry, put the necklace in the pocket of his worn-looking dark brown pants. "I thank you for this opportunity, sir. Though I must ask, when will receive our first orders?"

"Right now," Forze snapped in a completely humorless tone. He pulled out another document from his pocket, this one much smaller than the previous ones, and gave it to Viluppo. "Your mission is to retrieve a Kymren Ore and deliver it to a certain citizen. Her name and the directions to her living quarters are on that parchment. You remember what a Kymren Ore is, right? Its a slab of rock that houses a special kind of divinare, the merging kind. Hence its other name, the Merger Stone. You three are to head to the Hiddoran Cavern and retrieve one. Its true that the place was mostly stripped bare during the war, but surely you can find at least one. The Cavern is on the leftmost edge of West Anders, so it'll take you about six or seven hours to reach it on foot. Once you have completed the mission and the citizen confirms it with me, you'll receive your reward. That is all. Dismissed."

Back outside the building Viluppo turned to Solace and Oz, a grin slowly seeping onto his face. "Well, if you two have no objections, let's complete our mission! With luck we may be finished by nightfall!"

And so the newly form Band headed towards the Hiddoran Cavern, leaving their point of Attac village and pressing onward through the neighboring Ballygren farmland, stopping only briefly to purchase a few rations of food with what little gold Viluppo had. Before long a seemingly endless plain stretched out before them, the dry grass crunching beneath their every step. The Band was making good progress, but the Cavern they sought was still many miles away. They would likely have time to kill as they ventured.

The trio continued through the Ballygren Plains. A cool wind lazily swept through the fields, a welcome contrast to the relentless rays of the solstice sun. In the distance stood a mighty oak tree that seemed to bid the group come as the wind played with its thinner branches. The Band decided that a quick break wouldn't stall them long, so they sought refuge from the heat under the tree's massive shadow.

Viluppo sat down in the shade and wiped the sweat from his brow. He turned to Solace, prepared to ask how he can travel so far in this weather wearing such heavy-looking armor. Instead his attention was drawn to something much smaller: a flower growing at Solace's feet. Its delicate twisting stem supported a bright red style, where multiple thin stamens protruded out into the summer air. Springing forth from the flower's center were five creamy white petals, each with a single red dot in the middle.

Turning to his comrades, Viluppo motioned to the flower. "Normally I don't care much for flowers, but this one is rather rare! I don't know its real name, but everyone in Coleander calls it a neverlily. They only grow in areas with very large pools of divinare, and they tend to die rather quickly when planted anywhere else. I haven't seen one in years."

The blue-eyed boy stood up and stretched. "While we're on the subject, would either of you mind if I shared with you what I know? About divinare, I mean? It never hurts to review the basics from time to time. You see, I was well recognized as a skilled manipulator of magic back at West Anders Higher Academy. I had once written a speech about divinare use for lower students, but I never received the chance to use it. So, I hope you'll allow me to do so now." Solace and Oz noticed a cadence of pride in Viluppo's last sentence.

"Divinare is like the air we breathe; we cannot see it or hear it, but it exists nearly everywhere; in nature, in beasts, and in us. And like air, divinare is finite and can be depleted, but also restored, over time. Divinare is what allows us to do things that generations before us only dreamed about; to make fire dance between our fingers, to bend the earth to our will, to heal the sick and forge more potent weapons. Its discovery could easily be called one of the most important events in our time."

"But how does one take hold of this magical clay of the earth and mold it on a whim? The answer, quite literally, lies within. Every living thing in this world, and some non-living things on top of that, have their own unique rhythm. Imagine the feeling of your heart, how it continues to beat steadily, endlessly, of its own volition. Now, imagine your entire body, the very core of your being, possessing such a beat. That is your rhythm. No two are the same, but all share some common traits, just the same as any two minstrel songs you can name. This rhythm is the lantern that lights the way to all magic. However, it is not enough to merely feel one's own rhythm; one must be able to grasp the rhythms of the world around him, and understand how they relate to his own."

Viluppo pointed to the neverlily. "Take this flower, for example. I have already learned quite well what my own rhythm feels like, but now I must feel the rhythm within the flower." At that, Viluppo went quiet, his eyes losing their enthusiastic luster as he focused.

Somewhere within Viluppo, not quite in his ears but not quite in his mind, he heard something. It was a melancholy noise, evoking a familiar feeling of utter mortality. The feeling that all things perish at some time or other. Viluppo concentrated on this noise, pushing deeper into its aural depths. The noise began to condense, to stabilize, until it changed into a clearer sound that Viluppo immediately recognized: the sound of the wind brushing through a grassy meadow. Gracefully, repeatedly, on and on. That was the flower's rhythm.

Viluppo slowly let his focus on the flower's rhythm wane as he imagined his own rhythm, the sound of many small footsteps marching forward in perfect harmony. With both rhythms ringing clear in his head, the boy loosened his grip on his own rhythm, allowing it to fade back into the recesses of his innermost self. It grew softer and more muffled until the flower's rhythm had all but overpowered it.

Immediately the neverlily reacted. It lurched forward, nearly snapping itself in two. Without warning, the lily's five petals shot into the air, all of them with force of a marksman's arrow. The flower lilted after this amazing feat, the color rapidly disappearing from what remained of it. The Band members looked up to see that two of the petals had firmly lodged themselves into one of the tree's branches.

Viluppo turned back to his companions and grinned. "That... is channeling divinare: allowing another rhythm to claim victory over your own. Doing this surrenders the divinare inside of your body, agitating and releasing the divinare from the other source. This is the basis on which a great deal of magic is founded." Glancing at the dead flower his presentation left in its wake, Viluppo chuckled. "I was going to show you my presentation on binding divinare too, but I guess I pushed the neverlily too hard. So I suppose I'm done for now. I hope I didn't bore you."

"But I've gone on about myself enough; I'd like to know more about you two."