Finnegan sat at the top of the Oakheart Palace, the highest point in the village. His father was next to him, staring off into the distance as the wind played with his hair like a lovesick child. Finn looked over to his father, a somber look on his face that contrasted with the smiling one his father offered. "Dad, I need to know more about this artifact. You want me to lead a group of our finest into the great unknown to find an even greater unknown." His father turned to him, his eyes twinkling with wisdom. "Finn, I don't know anything more than that. If I did, I would've told you. All I know is that to find the artifact, you'll have to start with the Saltskins at Clarke Beach. There, they'll point you on your way," the older Watcher said. Finn nodded as he looked down at the village that he'd called home for the past two decades. The people were bustling about, unfazed by the Valeheart's declaration of war. The leaf lifts were still bringing people from one district to the other, powered by wind mages, and the shopkeepers were still selling their wares. Everything was the same.

Suddenly his father clapped him on the shoulder. Finn knew why. "Guess it's time to go speak with our band of adventurers," Finn said, a smirk on his face. His father nodded in response and they descended, down to the palace courtyard via viney ladder, his father slower due to his limp. The father and son duo walked into the palace, the walkway under the shade of large roses, kept alive by powerful earth mages. They walked through the elegant palace, shoes clicking on the floor and passed through a door and into the royal meeting room. The palace guard would escort Finn's soon to be companions to the room where they would discuss the adventure at hand. Finn took his spot at the head of the table, an elegant wooden object carved into the shape of a leaf. His father took his own seat while they waited for the others to arrive.

Yism strolled through the town, warhammer in hand, using it as a walking stick. Some of the respectful citizens gave him a nod as he walked by, he would offer a nod in return. "Nasty business, these Valeheart people," he mumbled to himself. He wasn't surprised when he was summoned. Yism knew he wasn't the youngest and the liveliest of the bunch, but there was no doubting his skill. He tightened his grip on his warhammer's handle. "And what shall I name you for this battle?" For every lengthy war Yism had ever partaken in, he had always given his warhammer a new name. The whole ordeal had Yism giddy on the inside, he was always up for a good tussle. On the other hand though, he knew that they would probably lose people, good people. Many of the younger soldiers were looking to prove themselves in battle, much like he had in his younger days.

"Sir!" The palace guards jolted into attention.

The royal palace towered in front of him, Yism stopped to admire it. It was what he liked to call, "The Big Green Beauty". Yism tapped the bottom of his warhammer on the ground, and gestured with his hand for the two guards to lead the way. It wasn't long before they reached the room, and the guards fell back to their post.

"Gentlemen," Yism nodded respectfully at the two royals, as he entered the room. He took his seat across from Galahad, and nodded once more. He had always respected the man. The two had fought together on several occasions, Yism could even remember the day he was crippled; it was a bloody war. He looked over to Finnegan, the boy was practically a younger version of his father he often thought. Yism grunted and looked at his warhammer. "I've decided. She's gonna be named Ash for this war", he declared, a smirk on his face.

Indus stood in her room, long hair pulled back and her finest set of riding armor on. She grabbed the blue bow, her oldest possession, and flung it across her shoulder along with the quiver that held all its arrows. "I can do this." she said out loud to herself, sure this time she would make her parents proud. It wasn't everyday one got to be part of the royal prince's guard. With a deep breath she plunged out of her room and into the main room where her parents stood in wait.

Her mother was the first to notice, having been waiting for her to get ready. She gave a short gasp before carrying on as though she hadn't. "Darling you look lovely." was the best she could come up with to hide her dissatisfaction in watching her leave. "mom, I'm not supposed to look lovely, i'm battle ready, i'm fierce...I'm going to meet the royal family." Indus replied hoping to arise any last shimmers of happiness from her mother. But there was nothing, just the same sad face she'd had for more than thirty years now. "i'll do great." She said hugging her mom before racing off to find her dad.

He was in the front shop, finishing the morning stocking. He gave her a look of admiration at least, his one good eye glinting with tears. "Indus, you aren't going to use that bow," He said, as though she had any other. But his smile gave it away, and she easily guessed that he had gotten her a new one. "Papa you didn't." she smiled, grateful of the gift. He leaned under the counter and retrieved a long package, tied with string. With a sullen face he handed it to her, "be safe my star." he said lovingly. Underneath the paper was a beautifully crafted bow, silver and smoothed. Several charms told of the weapons magical touch, though it's weight already told as much. Indus switched the new bow for her own, handing the blue one to her father. "I'll make you proud." she said at last, giving him one last hug before leaving to her bird outside.

Aquila lay flat to the ground, her black eyes fixed on her rider. Indus mounted and up they flew, taking the wind up to the palace entrance. There she left Aquila. The bird would stay there unless called.

Indus was led through the palace by two honor guards, not the kind she wanted to one day become. Though she yearned to take in the palaces hard floor and incredible features the walk to the meeting room was a rather short one, none the less business was more important, the losses were justified. Inside the room were three men, one old, one younger, and one who held a hammer. The old and young one were royalty, the king and prince themselves. It was truly wonderful to be so near someone who had helped the tribe so much. "Sirs" she offered, completely lost for words, but not wanting to seem foolish.

Ezri woke quite early that morning. It was to be a very important and eventful day, and she didn't want to miss it. She greeted dawn with a wink and smile and rushed to ready herself for her meeting at the palace.

Her quarters weren't kept very well. She was rarely home enough to keep things in an orderly fashion. It was either training that occupied her time, daily duties as a soldier that kept her, or nightly rides with Luna that eluded her bed of her company. Dirty clothes in random piles of all sizes litter her room, a washbasin full of dishes, stained with the remnants of meals long since eaten, and the smell … it would probably take her weeks to air out the small space she called home. And yet, she managed to find all that she would need, and in record time.

She had been on her own for quite a few years now. But lately, her daily chores began to slip more and more from her list of priorities. She continues to work hard, but has started to feel as if her training has become stagnant. Most of her peers have all these lofty ambitions. Her own had been drown out in the monotony of their day to day activities, the countless battles over territory and land. It all seemed so catty and pointless. It wasn't that she was too arrogant to learn more, or reach higher. She didn't want to lead, and had no clue how or where to move on from that. She had a duty to her people, and a genuine desire to help. So when she received invitation for an audience at the palace, she jumped at the opportunity it would bring.

She lingered in the market area for a time, leisurely ate her breakfast before finally making her way to the palace. If there was one thing that she would ever take her time doing, it was eating good food. Besides, why else would she have given herself so much time this morning?

There was someone amongst the crowd ahead of her whom she recognized. Another soldier, her elder by at least five years, if not more. She had seen the woman around before, had even trained with her a time or two. She was an exquisite warrior; poised, precise, ferocious. One day, I’ll be just as good as her, if not better. Ezri’s eyes trailed the lanky woman as she proceeded into the great halls. Her smile widened as she followed, not far behind, into a large room. Something was going on. Something dire indeed to have summoned the Watchers before her. Perhaps this was her chance at last. Not necessarily for greatness, but a chance to do some real good. And perhaps even a chance at forgiveness, if such a thing could ever be earned.

Seated at a table just ahead of them were three individuals, their King and Prince among them. Stepping to the side, still positioned slightly behind Indus out of respect, she bowed her head low.

”Sirs”, the woman offered.

”Good morning”, Ezri added before continuing over to seat herself.

Captain Leafy was the first to enter, walking with the kind of swagger and bravado that spoke volumes as to the sort of man he was: moronic. It was wholly unwise to presume so much upon yourself; you'd have better luck just pasting a big red target on your back. He'd be the first to go down, if Ulrin Grimsparrow encountered him in the field. You can't let a walking meat train like that breathe for too long, because it'll inspire his peers to take on like-minded lunacy, which in turn could cause a sea of nonsense right when you didn't need it. With a bolt in his neck, the men would realise their invincible hero was just an idiot with a big axe, nothing more, and fear would take them.

Men did not like being reminded that they weren't special, that any life could be snatched at the teasing of a trigger.

Still, that the Captain had survived as long as he had, doing what he did, and spurning promotions like a true martyr to morondom, was somewhat of a surprise to Ulrin when all things were considered; indeed, he felt himself doubting his initial analysis, if only for a second. Brave and skilled warrior, or a walking abomination from the realm of Luck, it mattered little - the Captain would no doubt have his uses in the times to come, even if that just meant using him as a distraction.

And who was this pretty little creature? Oh! Indus Horologium, of course. The aspiring soldierette, and what a wonderful set of armour she was wearing. Ulrin allowed himself a snicker, finding her youthful ambition amusing. Sadly, she'd learn soon enough that it wasn't the gleam in a breastplate or the dye of your cloak that kept the enemy away, no, it was your preparedness to sink to any level to ensure you walked away from the battle - not they. He'd seen men join the army, all with that same silly enthusiasm, and he'd seen them leave a hundred years older with gaunt cheeks and dead eyes. War could do terrible things to someone, if they were not prepared to do what had to be done.

Aside from her ambition and her cute little outfit, Ulrin knew little else about her; his probings into the matter were met only with a few bits and pieces, but nothing solid. She was a skilled fighter, known for reckless acts which he assumed was associated with her apparent want of advancement. Recklessness could be a hindrance, but it could also be a problem solver. He'd have to study her further, and establish her worth.

Ezri Annabelle Hartwig was next, another soldier from another solidering family. Ulrin detected a certain masculinity to her gait, something he doubted she'd picked up in the drill yards; her father most likely had a hand in her training from a young age. People were impressionable when they were young, more likely to emulate their betters on a subconscious level. He'd no doubt that she was walking into this thing with the means to do some serious damage to some serious people, but unfortunately, he knew even less about her than he did Indus. Perhaps he was getting lazy, or perhaps she was very much an unknown.

A woman, a Hartwig no less, with the hint of a man's strength to her movements. It could go either way.

The trio marched by Ulrin, and he glanced up at them - disguised as he was in the bed of a lazily left aside wheel barrow. After the two guards had escorted them off, Ulrin emerged from his soil-ridden grave and gave quiet pursuit. Now that he'd seen his fellow contestants in what was no doubt an exercise in political intrigue, it was time to meet the Game Master.

Emerging between Ezri and Indus, Ulrin pushed by them with a brief "excuse me," and slumped himself into the nearest seat - a few spaces down from Captain Moron. "Your grace," he said with a slight smile and a bow of the head towards the King. "Scout Chief Grimsparrow, present as requested."

Morgana was in the library on the second level of the village when Alexander, her mentor, rushed in, his hair disheveled. "Morgana! You need to go! You can't be late to see the royal family! For my apprentice you can be especially inept with your social graces sometimes!" Alexander shouted, pulling Morgan from her book. Gods damn it! Morgana thought to herself as Alexander rushed her out the door, his long grey beard trailing behind them. She'd always told the old man to cut that thing, but he thought the idea blasphemous. She finally waved her mentor off and rushed out the door, grabbing her staff and shouting goodbye to the man who'd been like a father to her. She couldn't handle the idea that she might never see him again, and so, a quick goodbye was best. "Hey wait!" she shouted at a leaf lift operator, hopping in right before it lifted off. The mage who operated the lift recognized her, and knew that she had been picked out for the secret royal mission, and with a reassuring smile, he took off towards the palace.

She thanked the man, offering him a coin which he refused with a kind smile, and hopped off of the lift and onto the palace grounds. She sprinted past the towering flowers and burst into the palace, raising eyebrows, though luckily no swords. As she arrived at the meeting room she stopped and toyed with her disheveled hair and calmed her breathing. She had to look presentable for the others of course. She walked in and took a seat, embarrassed that she was the last one to arrive.





Finn looked around at his group of adventurers and bowed. He'd handpicked each and everyone of these people himself. Yism was one of the best warriors in the tribe, even if he had refused countless promotions. He was a good man. Indus was an ambitious one, and he knew that this was a position that she could handle. Ezri was herself a great warrior as well, younger than Indus, but still the prince's senior. Morgana was a well of knowledge, and also knew more about magical artifacts than anyone. And then there was Ulrin, the sneakiest Watcher in the tribe, and a valuable asset, Finn knew. He had great respect for each one, as did his father.

"Greetings. Each one of you has been called here because you are all impeccable in your areas of expertise. As you know, the Valehearts have declared war. Queen Ciara has made it known that she seeks an ancient Watcher artifact, one that we believe will enable her to seize control of this forest. We can't let her do that. Our mission is simple. Find the artifact before the Valehearts. My father has been able to direct us to the Saltskin, of Clarke Beach to the west. That will be our first destination. We leave tomorrow. Are there any questions? Finn asked, his eyes scanning the room for any hands. He knew that this was a lot to take in, and he'd also just spewed a mouthful of words. Suddenly, the meeting room burst open. Furious, spun to see the intruder. He'd specifically demanded that they be left alone. It was then that he saw a guard, an arrow through his neck as he fell to the ground. "It appears that questions will have to wait. I believe we are under attack. Change of plans. We leave now. We'll head to the aviary and make towards Clarke Beach. Let's try to stay together if possible. Now let's go," Finn said, drawing his sword and heading out the door.

Indus had a few questions, most of which were simple things like how much do the Saltkin hate us and what time tomorrow. These quickly became irrelevant as the guard fell dead in the doorway and Finn declared that they were leaving immediately. As The young prince made his way out into the passageway Indus slid her bow off her shoulder and notched an arrow just in case then followed close behind him. Passing the corpse she plucked the arrow from his neck, he was dead and it could tell who might've attacked, each tribe having specific traits with their weapons.

Aquila was likely in the aviary if that's where the prince though they aught to go, Indus was used to just leaving the bird where ever and calling on her when she needed to be in the air or better yet never getting off the bird. The fact of the matter however was that she had no clue where her bird was, only that once outside she'd be able to get it. For now following and protecting the prince was the best plan.

Truth be told this was the sort of thing Indus had always dreamed of doing. It made her smile a little knowing that if an enemy popped up she'd actually be ale to shoot them and perhaps even look cool while doing it. If things went well maybe she'd even get recognized and allowed to be a personal body guard for Finn, wishful thinking of course. That was a child's dream she reminded herself as she focused on the present problems.

Ulrin remained calm and seated as the Royal Guard sputtered his final breaths, and then raised his eye as the Woman of Ambition tore the arrow from his ruined neck. Treating the dead so thoughtlessly? Perhaps she's not so ignorant of war after all, he mused to himself with a wry smile.

Looking across the table at Captain Moron and Ezri, Ulrin nodded. "Come then, let us follow the Prince on his grand crusade. All this talk of artefacts, and the dead guardsman at the doorway, has made this chair somehow unpalatable."

He rose to his feet, uttering a silent curse that he was the only one who hadn't walked into the King's presence wholly unarmed. His crossbow and dagger were safely strapped to Gallow, his loyal steed, who was no doubt giving his stable masters a real run for their money over at the Aviary. Walking over to the body of the fallen guardsman, Ulrin bent down and relieved him of his shortsword. It was a simple blade, with some fancy embroidery across the guard.

Slicing the air with a few brief swings to judge the weapon's weight, Ulrin nodded with a grunt, and made after the Prince and Indus.

Ezri had been listening intently as the Prince spoke. Her face was emotionless, but that was probably because she couldn't make heads or tails about how she felt over the situation. One thing was for sure, she would do her best to help.

And with that, a loud thump sliced through the room. One of the guards came crashing through the door, an arrow lunged deep in his neck. She was on her feet in an instant at the surprise visitor. She watched as Indus plucked the arrow from his neck, there was no disgust, no flinch, no sadness...but anger. Blood gushed and flowed from the open wound creating a large puddle around the man. She had fought on the front lines many times before, she had seen death. But this act was not on the battlefield and was certainly an eye opener. Things were a lot worse than she realized.

"Come then, let us follow the Prince on his grand crusade. All this talk of artifacts, and the dead guardsman at the doorway, has made this chair somehow unpalatable." Ulrin's voice broke her thought and the anger quickly dissipated. She nodded in response, unsheathed her sword and quickly followed after the Prince.