Ntaaj had forgotten how long he’s been traveling now. He would guess days, when in truth it has been at least a month. The trip here had been rather uneventful, save for a close call to a farmer’s scythe when he stole and slaughtered a pig for food. Ntaaj had chosen to flee to the land of the Veigers, Curaw specifically, to hopefully find gainful employment and perhaps companionship. The only company Ntaaj had was his horse, who seemed rather intent on leaving him as soon as he could. The stubborn steed has been useful so far however, so Ntaaj has no interest in releasing him from it’s service.

Ntaaj noticed the smoke in the distance, but thought nothing of it. Plenty of reasons a village would have a large fire; burning crops, some sort of ritual, maybe they were burning a witch. He hasn’t heard of much bandit activity or wars going on, so he couldn’t imagine the village was being raided. And even if it was, what could he do? Sure he could kill a man, but he wasn’t about to stand against a veritable army alone. He was skilled, not stupid.

Entering the city with no particular fanfare, Ntaaj looked around the somewhat busy streets. There were people milling about going on with their lives, completely ignorant to the dangers outside. Ntaaj smirked to himself. In the Khanate, him entering the city would be cause for concern. Usually because it meant there was a horde of cavalry around him. But Ntaaj was going to have to get used to being in cities without sacking them. He dind't want the guards to think he was up to something if he starts looking shifty. Ntaaj turned his horse to a stable for safe keeping and looked for work. He barely had enough money to stay the night, so with any hope he’ll find a job soon. And the best place to look for work was the tavern.

Roark sniffed the air, nodding at the scent of fresh food. Finally, after days of traveling, eating what little food he could gather in the wild, and avoiding war parties and mercenaries he had made it to a city. Not that he liked Dhirim. He'd much rather be back in Wercheg where things were somewhat familiar, but it would do for now. He needed money, and the best way to get it was to take a job.

Thankfully the guildmaster was standing outside. Hopefully he'd offer Roark a decent job that wasn't just fetching goods. The last time he did one of those he was still a Raider, and he'd had to find someone in town to steal it from. He wasn't sure he wanted to risk getting on the guards bad side. "Oy, Old man," Roark said, walking up to him. "Got a job for me?"

Ntaaj entered the tavern and sure enough, there was hustle and bustle. Mercs, knights, peasants, anyone with the coin was here to drown their sorrows or seek trouble. Ntaaj was rather eager; it's been too long since he's been in a good scrap, and hoped some drunken idiot would be offended by him so Ntaaj can cut him to ribbons. As Ntaaj looked for a seat, he heard some peasant asking mercs for help. Ntaaj could guess why; the poor fool's village was being raided by bandits and he needed strong men to save it. Of course, no one would accept an offer like that. What could mere peasants offer to them that would be worth the trouble? Even Ntaaj wouldn't have done it. If you want a bodyguard, sure, he could offer himself. But liberate a village from a bandit horde? Now that wasn't the sort of fight Ntaaj would think he could get out unscathed.

So Ntaaj didn't really bother the peasant boy, instead heading straight to the bartender for work or rumors of work. "I'll take whatever swill this'll get me." Ntaaj dropped a seven rusty denars on the counter for a drink, and proceeded straight to questioning. "I'm a sellsword, obviously, and I'm looking for work. Any of the local lords in need of an extra blade?"

"Master Ivrybane," he said, addressing the old man with a bit of respect. He'd come across the occasional old Raider that thought they deserved a title, so he was used to it. As long as the guy was willing to pay him, he use whatever title the guy demanded. "I don't mind cracking a few white wolf or snow wolf or any other bandit skulls for you, but I've got a couple of questions first. One, do I get looting rights on any bandits I kill? Two, I'm a bit embarrassed to ask, and I can walk if you want, but if you need me to ride, I'll have to borrow a horse, at least until I get back and can buy one. Any old nag or plow donkey will do." He put out his hand. "Roark Axeslinger's the name. Earned it by throwing axes into my enemies faces. And if the gods smile on me, I'll do the same for you."

"In that case, I'll take the donkey, and stick to looting their jewelry and purses. At least that won't way me down.

So, when and where should I meet your men?"

There stood the walls of Jelkala: tall, wide, ugly, and wonderful. Ethelbert couldn't say it was great being back home, but neither could he deny feeling a weird satisfaction on his return. As he approached the city walls, Ethelbert remembered an old poem. "And thus returns the repented dog, with the tail between his legs and a broken snout", he murmured to himself.

And it didn't take long for Ethelbert to realize he might as well had been a dog entering the city. "Would the guards dare speak like this to any other Lord?", he asked himself. But he wasn't any other Lord, he was Ethelbert Arderne, and he barely looked like he filled the position, something he was very aware of. For a second he considered being subtle, pass off as a nobody, buy time as he re-learned the politics of the land. That second passed quicker than any before it.

"My named is Ethelbert Arderne, the ONLY son and ONE true heir of the now deceased Lord Arderne, and I've come to speak with King Graveth, under whom you serve."

Join with the prince’s army, or hunt some outlaws? Either one sound fine to him, but Rivacheg was a while away. He could probably made it within a day if he rushes the horse, but considering that the White Wolfs (sic) likely operated between the two cities, Ntaaj was probably going to run into them before he gets the job to go after them. Ntaaj assumed that Prince Yaroglek was in Curaw, but then again if he was waging war against the Nords at their eastmost territory, he might be at a town or city closer. Maybe Rivacheg; seemed like a good idea to take out Werecheg first since it was largely cut off by the rest of the Nord cities by land. Then again, the nords were tough opponents too. While Ntaaj has never had the pleasure to face off against one of them before, he’s heard a lot about their famous strength and durability. And their lack of horses or skilled archers.

Either way, it seemed like Ntaaj was heading north. Shame about the village boy, but there wasn’t much Ntaaj could do for him. Maybe if he’s lucky Ntaaj would be with the men who’d liberate the village. Still… Maybe the village boy could be of some use. ”Thanks for the tip.” Ntaaj left the counter after the barkeep went back to her gossip and looked for the village boy. When or if Ntaaj found him, he’d call out to the peasant. ”You there! Who is attacking your village and do you know where they come from?” If the boy knew, then Ntaaj would know what route to avoid to get to Rivacheg. It may take longer, but better that he gets to Rivacheg safe and sound then full of arrows and dying.

Ntaaj rubbed the back of his head. He knew where most of the major towns were, but he had no idea where the villages were. He would have to stop by one of the stores and buy a map. Or just have this kid lead him. Either way, if Ntaaj had to head to Rivacheg, he should be safe from the White Wolves. Reyvadin Peak likely referred to the mountain near Reyvadin, and he wasn't heading in that direction. He should be safe... But he could always use back up. "Kid, if you want to save your village, you need to be willing to fight for it. I'm not going to save your village right now. I'll be heading to Rivacheg and see if the lord or whomever there is willing to form a group to fight off the White Wolves. If you really care about it, you'll follow me and learn how to fight. That way you can save your village and protect your home." Though in truth, Ntaaj just needed someone to bait arrows. Still, he could probably afford the kid a hatchet and maybe a low quality shield, and teach the boy the basics of fighting. Then he'll live long enough to bait more arrows.

"I'm leaving now. If you want to save your village than come with me and learn how to fight. Otherwise you can stay here and keep begging for the rest of your life." And with that Ntaaj left the tavern and headed to a general store. He'll need some more supplies and a map.

Ntaaj looked at the boy with an evil eye. "First, stop calling me sir. My name is Ntaaj, but you will be calling me captain." Ntaaj walked through the city, expecting the boy to follow as he explained his plan. "I'm guessing you have a name too, but I'll be calling you boy until I think you deserve a title. Now you mentioned something about a wagon?" The boy then told Ntaaj that there are some goods in the wagon they could sell for money. This was good; Ntaaj could use that money to equip the boy and maybe get himself something decent. Like an actual war horse. "Well, aren't you a crafty one. Fine then, we'll sell what's in the wagon and the wagon itself to get your geared up. You'll need a weapon, a shield, a helmet, and a horse. We'll also be needing supplies. Anything else is going to be extra." Of course Ntaaj would have rather used all the money for himself, but he wasn't that foolish. The boy was going to be more than useless if he couldn't fight, and he wouldn't last a second in battle if he didn't even have a knife.

If Ethelbert had been honest with himself, he would have admitted surprise at the effectiveness of his words. But at that time, he was just happy everything seemed to be working out for him, at least so far. For now, he couldn't do anything except trot his way to the castle, walk his way to the King's court, and use his rusty, silver tongue to try and take back what was once his father's. That and reminisce. And reminisce he did.

Quite a bit of time had passed since Ethelbert used to walk this streets and cause trouble, but the memories of it all hadn't left him. His first fight. His first love. His first heartbreak. His first loose permanent teeth. It sure felt damned good to be back.

"Well met Derrik." Roark said, shaking the man's hand. "I am Roark Axeslinger, here to help you against any bandits that may attempt to take your goods. Master Ivrybane was good 'nuf to loan me a donkey for the trip, so I'll be riding near the back of the caravan. Don't worry, though, that doesn't mean I'll shy away from battle should the need arise."

Ntaaj sighed. He supposed that he shouldn't expect everyone to know how to ride a horse unlike in the Khanate, but Ntaaj wasn't going to be able to teach him how to ride a horse into battle very easily. And if the boy was going to travel on foot, he was only going to slow Ntaaj down. With that in mind, this meant Ntaaj had no choice but to keep the wagon and the poor excuse of a horse to pull it. At least that way they'd be going a bit faster, without the foolish youth falling off the saddle every couple of minutes. This meant that the only option Ntaaj had to sell was the goods. "We're selling all of it. You life, and the life of your village, is worth more than the goods in this cart. If they have a problem with that then they could always ask those Winter Wolfs or whatever to come back."

They still had some time before they were going to leave, so Ntaaj was going to shop around for equipment the boy could use. If he was a native from the khanate, he could rely on the idea that the villager could handle a spear, maybe even a bow. But truly this boy was no warrior, barely a man even. Ntaaj would have to think carefully about what he should give the boy to fight with; something simple like an axe or club. While any brute could cut someone with the sharp edge of a sword, the boy didn't come off as a strong sort, and would be liable to break his blade if he tried to use a sword. At by buying something simple like an axe or club, that would save Ntaaj more money for something more reliable. "Follow me and bring the wagon with you, boy, we're going to do some shopping."

Budgeting himself to about 250 denars, if he could sell the goods in the cart for that amount or more, he could get the boy an decent Iron Mace, a Leather Covered Round Shield, , Leather Armor, and a Skull Cap. Simple stuff that even a peasant like the boy could use. While a regular hand axe would be cheaper and more likely something he's handled, axes needed some skill to use. Swing too hard and the blade gets stuck in a body, which opens you to a counter attack. But with something like a club, blunt force doesn't need to crush the body to kill them. A solid smack to the arm, even if it doesn't bleed, will break something. Hopefully the boy would learn that. Now Ntaaj just needed to find someone to sell the goods to and buy the equipment from. He wasn't a merchant however, and wasn't great at bartering.

Since most of the goods in the wagon were stuff you'd expect from a farming village, Ntaaj looked to merchants in the farmer's market. He essentially came to the first some-what empty looking shop he saw and tried to sell them his goods. "I have wheat, grains, dried meat, and some cloth. Fresh from the village of Rebache. I'll sell them to you for 500 denar.