Derra was lost. Not physically, she knew where she was in the town. She was lost mentally. The healers had welcomed her at first, but once the steady flow of injured had stopped it seemed they had no use for- or interest in- a dwarf marked by pox. The man who had released her was kind, but firm in his suggestion that she find a place more welcoming to her.

'At least I learned a few things while I was there.' she thought to herself as she shifted her weight on the bench. She had seated herself on this bench outside the Guild to decide where she would take herself. There were a few people perusing the board looking for work, a few had taken their papers and trotted off, presumably to find compatriots to do the work with them. 'All this bustle... what I would give to be home around the smell of the forges and the mountain air.'

She hadn't been this homesick on her journey here. She was tasked with staying among the humans for two years to meet and learn from the healers. Now that the healer they had sent her to didn't want her she knew she had to find another place for herself. Returning so soon was not an option, and besides if there was war Derra would find a place she was needed. Healers, even pockmarked healers, were always needed.

She stood from her place and made her way towards the Inn, wanting to gather her things and get her little mountain pony from the stable. 'I'll find that woman who took the guild posting. Maybe she and her people will need a healer.'

For the first time she realized she had many more options than she had originally thought when the healer had told her to leave.

@Zaphander

---

"Hold there m'lady on the steed! Hold I say!" Startled by the sudden voice, Elithiana quickly scanned her surroundings for the source, her eyes almost immediately landing on a woman who had started running next to her and Ava. It was a surprising sight to say the least, considering her status as basically a stranger in town, not many people went out of their way to interact with her, not counting the children of course. Never the less, she gently pulled on Ava’s reigns, bringing her beloved horse to a stop just as the woman started talking again.

"My name is Annabeth Elliot, a knight errant of the Goddess Askari! I know this may seem sudden, but I am wondering if you're willing to embark on a quest with me to purge the lands near this town of a dire threat."

To say that El wasn’t surprised by the request would be a lie, her facial expression probably displayed as much. True, she had been thinking about undertaking some kind of quest in order try to help people, but the half-elf definitely wasn’t expecting one to just suddenly be offered to her by a knight errant. After a few moments of silence passed due to surprise on Elithiana’s side, she shook her head slightly to shake herself out of it. “I’m sorry, Lady Elliot, your request just took me by surprise, I apologise if I came off as rude just now.”

Dismounting her horse, she held out a hand for a handshake while giving Annabeth a friendly smile, though it didn’t do much to mask her confusion. “I’m Elithiana Woodenbrooke, my friends call me El. I’ve got to ask, why approach me for this quest? I’m not refusing, but I can’t help but be a little confused by the situation.”

City of Yord. Though city was putting it generously; it had tall stone walls and the lord lived within here, but unlike many other cities throughout Erlad, Yord did not serve much of a strategic nor economical purpose. It's main exports were wheat, lentils, and chickens. While a major contributor to the food that goes around Erlad, most cities traded more expensive goods with merchants and caravans for higher quality foodstuffs and had access to more profitable products such as iron or wine. But thanks to this combination of an agricultural economy and it's nondescript existence, it was the perfect place for Hawk to recruit soldiers.

The Lord of this city was a man known as Dulbur, a merchant-turned-lord who was an ally to Lord Bernard an equally eager to go to war. He wished to use this opportunity to expand his lands and thus he gathered his soldiers to march off to suppress rebelling lords and take their territory. However in the process, Yord had a skeleton of a garrison consisting largely of militia still in training, with very few experienced soldiers to lead them. While there was a steward still managing the city itself he was no military tactician, but still savvy enough to know that the orcs of the north were a far more immediate threat. There had already been news of neighboring villages and hamlets that have been plundered and razed to the ground and the city had no soldiers to spare to defend their own. If Hawk and his men could deal with the orcs before they reached their towns, it would ensure the safety and prosperity of Yord.

That was the thought that went through many a young men as they listened to Hawk's short speech. Most of these men were farmers who didn't have any armor or a weapon more deadly than a woodcutting axe. Ideally, being recruited into Hawk's army would come with some equipment of their own, or at least a few silver coins to buy gear. Ten silvers were hard to pass up; one silver was often a week's wages for unskilled labor, and ten a month would be enough for one to live comfortable within Yord. Two silvers could buy a man a military grade sword and shield. That is to say, functional enough to work and cheap enough to arm a militia. Not to mention plunder could also bolster a solider's funds. But what worried them the most was a simple fear: death.

War was coming and the orcs weren't the only threats that they'll have to deal with. There were rival lords who would have their eyes on Yord solely to have a defensive city to command, and many within wished to defend their home when it came time to do so. But mainly because they feared the possibility of simply being cut down by a heartless soldier hoping to steal what meager coin they had, take what little possession they own, or simply out of a lust for blood and violence. Simple as these folks may be, they would rather be the wolves than the sheep. And though many a wailing mother and crying sister would try and stop them, at least twenty young men stayed within the town center to learn more about joining Hawk's group.

They seem somewhat intimidated by the soldiers so they let a more grizzled looking man do the talking. He seemed to be around Hawk's age and carried himself confidently, perhaps he too had been a soldier at some point in his life. He heard the concerns of the younger men and made sure to ask Hawk or whoever represented him of some basic questions and request; will they get a down payment so that the new recruits could arm themselves properly, will they need to bring their own horses and wagons for supplies, if Hawk knew anything about the orcs they'd be fighting, as well as a few personal and political questions such as who Hawks served and what his intentions after the orcs are dealt with were.

But among those crowds was one who stood out. Unlike the young men who seemed nervous but eager to join, she stood tall, calm, and confident. Mergoux the Butcher. Normally it would be risky for someone of her renown to be in Yord, as she's still a wanted criminal for slaying various officials in the northern part of Erlad, but with the war going on no lord with soldiers to fight could spare the time to hunt down lone criminals. Not to mention that while most guardsmen may have a duty to arrest her, most guardsmen have also suffered under the expensive taxes once levied by the men she killed. They may not approve of what she did, but they at least knew that her actions had benefited them in such a way most would be willing to ignore her, if she ignores them.

Additionally as a woman of battle she would have heard much of the orcs that have been ravaging the lands. While many tribes and clans carry their own banner and fighting style, she'll know that one of the more prominent warlords that have risen nearby goes by the name of Bloodfist. A large orc warrior who gained his moniker supposedly for being able to kill armored knights with his bare hands, leading his own elite band of warriors known as the Blackfist Orcs. Though he was little more than a bandit lord with nary a control of the orcs who fight under his name; so far they've only been attacking caravans and traders on the road, occasionally robbing villages but not destroying them. After all if they did, where else would they steal food from? That's not to say there haven't been a village or two wiped off the map due to his men getting too eager for their own good. But being humans, he didn't care about their plight.

There has also been rumors of a larger force of orcs building up in the north past the Black Star Mountains, a land controlled by Lord Bernard. It's mostly just rumors, but apparently the orcs that had been pushed out from their mountain homes have found a new benefactor who has turned the brutish orcs into warriors made of steel. Of course there's also rumor that these same orcs have allied with the frost trolls and intend to ride into the kingdom on the back of their snow-hide monsters. And further rumors that the orcs have made a pact with a demon for immortality in battle in exchange for their souls after death. Fear mongering and propaganda most likely, but even the most far fetched rumors had their origins somewhere. Regardless it was also information that Hawk would have easily gained if he simply listen to local gossip, and there's a possibility more info could be discovered with further investigation.

"Well, not to seem rude, but I had heard your song and watched sing for the children. I recognize some of them as orphans due to the terrible battle that had happened here not too long ago. As a servant to Askari it is my duty to tend to the innocent such as them, but my own duties have made me too busy to care for the young ones. That being said, for you to go out of your way to care for them, in any way you can, is something admirable and trustworthy." Annabeth said with a smile as she shook El's hand. She didn't want to bore her with exposition like she did with Maren and Cassius (it was probably why she wasn't asked to stick around), so Annabeth was just honest and to the point. "The town is filled with strong warriors but I can only trust a few. And for me trust is far more important than skill at arms. Seeing your good nature, I feel that I can trust you to watch my back as we hunt the beasts that plague the swamp, more so than I could a craven who'll run at the first sign of overwhelming odds. If you'll accompany me, I'll gladly lay my life down for you."

Annabeth bowed deeply as her father taught her to do when speaking to a lady or lord. If El does join, that'll be one more person Annabeth would have at her side. Though she knew she needed more. And while she might trust El, Annabeth couldn't be certain about her combat prowess which is still needed for hunting monsters. Annabeth does need a skilled fighter, one who won't be so prideful that they wouldn't work with her, but also one who is available to assist. That gave Annabeth an idea; she remembered an unusual warrior who had helped her defend the northern gates. He appeared to have been a mere fisherman, but he had also slain quite a few of those mad dog mercenaries with his spears, and moving swiftly and striking with deadly precision. He would no doubt be a boon in hunting the swamp monster. While Annabeth's arms and armor would help her survive against a beast, mobility was just as important and he was swift of foot and steady of hand.

"It will not just be you and I of course. I actually have another in mind who I think I can trust to fight alongside us. If you're willing, we should go speak to him together to see if he'll want to join us for this hunt."

@Royaletutor59

@Zaphander

---

"You're too generous with your assessment of me, Lady Elliot." El said with a bright smile directed towards the knight errant. "Those children were some of the most delightful company I've had in some time, I'd hardly say that I'm going out of my way considering that I enjoy myself just as much as they seem to. As for your reasoning," Elithiana gave a deep bow much like Annabeth's. "it speaks much of your character as well. I'll gladly join you on your quest," Straightening up, El grinned at Annabeth. "provided you keep from laying down your life for me as you put it, I'm no where near important enough for that honor."

The situation might be beyond surprising, but it was an opportunity to help people, something that El would never turn down. Besides, she's pretty sure that her uncle would approve of this endeavor, considering his own numerous tales of slaying dangerous beasts and taking on large bands of rogue thieves single-handedly, though she's not quite sure of the authenticity of most of his tales...

"About this other warrior you wish to recruit, do you know where he is?"

As the sun ran to hide behind the horizon, it cast out a fan of fire that stretched across the sky in one final display of power. The clouds above were set ablaze, almost as if to ward off the coming dark. A struggle between the last light of day and the coming night, a struggle made in vain as the light could do nothing but succumb to the dark. The air was thick with heat, stirred by the occasional lukewarm breeze. The fires raged, smoke bleeding out from behind castle walls like blood from a wound. Screams of horror and death hung on the wind like a plague, mottled by war-cries and the sounds of sharpened steel. A barrage of missiles streamed down upon the castle like blazing summer hail, crushing anything that dared to stand before them. A dark mass of limbs twisted up the mountain path to the city gates, crashing through like waves upon the shore.

John could only watch from a nearby hill as Ansgar fell, the nine others behind him impatiently wondering why they did not move to save who they could. They had been tricked into a false engagement, and left their home unattended. A second force had moved in and struck the utterly lethal blow while they had been so foolishly distracted. How could I have let this happen? How could I not see the trap laid before us? John questioned, his knees buckling under his weight as another wave of artillery roared past overhead. Could we even stand against this? Was there something more we could have done? He continued, locked inside of his mind while Ansgar was torn further apart. What breed of elite soldiers are we to let this happen? We were meant to protect them... and in their ultimate time of need... we failed. I failed. I failed my people, and I failed the Legion.

John unleashed a scream in a fit of rage and sorrow, throwing his fists to the ground. The fall of his fist turned to the cut of a sword, his steel finding home in the flesh of his foes. The Legion of Ten was engulfed in a horde of faceless flesh, screaming and clawing at the Legion's armor in a futile display of savagery. John's blade cleaved through bodies like a scythe through wheat, but their enemy did not relent. The sound of shredding metal woke him from his bloodlust, only to see one of his dearest friends dragged into the mass with a splash of crimson. John watched in bewildered horror as two more disappeared into the horde before them, their deaths and their screams striking tears from his eyes. One by one, they died. John could do nothing to stop it.

---

Waking with a start, his heart pounding like wardrums, John rushed to meet the ground with his feet. He rose from the chair with frantic breaths, scanning the room to see the two unused beds and a table cluttered with equipment. Putting a hand to his chest piece and taking a deep breath, John tried to calm himself down. "It was just a dream, nothing more..." He muttered quietly, noticing his companion was absent from the room. Where did Garren get off to? To look for jobs? John wondered to himself, walking over to grab his gear before deciding to head out and look for his friend.

Garren stood outside of the inn with two children in ragged clothes, entertaining them with stories and tall tales. They seemed to enjoy what they heard, and Garren was quite pleased. But he could not help but feel that there was more he could do. They were likely orphaned by the siege that befell the city a mere week ago, judging by the state of their apparel. Then the thought popped into Garren's head and he pulled a few coins from his pouch, prepared to hand them to the children when John came out of the inn and stopped him in his tracks.

"Don't let the size of your heart cloud your mind, Garren. Gods only know how many other fools they've gotten coin from." He warned, prompting Garren to pull his hand back and almost scoff. "How can you be so quick to accuse them of thievery? We're not so very different from them, you know. We know what it's like to lose a family - to be left without a home, and to feel helpless to stop it. Garren replied, glancing back to the two children whom now seemed a little afraid. "These children need to see the kindness that the world can offer, John... lest they truly be led astray."

"Yes, well... kindness and hope are in short supply these days, my friend. Best not to waste it on a whim..." John said in a dismissive tone, his gaze skewing to the side and away from his companion. "I am sorry, but I must respectfully disagree, sir. How could I not? Hope is like the seeds that allow a forest to regrow after the fire. It can be culled, just as the forest, but in time it shall grow back just like the seeds." Garren started, his voice remaining soft but oddly commanding. "And kindness? Well it's much the same. It's like the soil. It may dry up, but acts of hate - like the fire - shall fertilize the coming of renewed kindness."

By now John's head had fallen ever so slightly as the children looked up to Garren with hopeful eyes. He gestured weakly, muttering in a dispirited tone. "Just give them the coin, then... and spare me the rest." Shifting his weight, John waited for Garren to hand the coin to the kids. One of them asked why they were clad in armor, to which Garren was happy to respond. "We're warriors. It's our duty to be prepared for anything." He speaks as he moves to kneel down in front of the child. "You know, we were probably around your age when we started training... and we became powerful soldiers. Our people believed in us, even when they could not believe in anyone else." Garren continues, noticing John visibly sinking as he speaks to the children. Better to cut this short, for his sake. It hurt to see his leader like this, but perhaps he just needed more time.

The other child asked why the two of them were here in Tamberle and not with their people, but Garren did not give a straight answer. "My friend here doesn't like to talk about it, but... ah... just remember one thing. Okay?" He weaves his words, enticing one last bit of eagerness from the children. "It's never too early, or too late, to learn how to protect what you love. As long as you've got something worth protecting, you can do anything. There is always something worth protecting, but sometimes you just have to find it first. Garren finishes, giving the children a more light-hearted farewell before convincing them to leave.

After they had gone, he turned to John and placed a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. Garren understood it was difficult to be reminded of home, it was difficult for him too. Even worse was this growing fear that the commander he came to admire over the years wasn't coming back from the bitter man that replaced him. Garren swallowed, searching for the words to say before opening his mouth. "Hey, let's go look around for some jobs, eh? Some work would do us good." He inquired, stirring John from his inaction and garnering a soft nod. "Yeah, I think that'd be a good idea." John responded weakly, the strength returning to his voice. "I could use the distraction, and a bit of coin never hurt."

The stale air of the lab shone with the last rays of light dancing in through the window. The desk was laden with the type of "junk" you might find at a market set up to sell trinkets.

Monika had fallen asleep at study again. Her head rested on a book with a red leather cover and expensive vellum pages. It was open to a page detailing the many uses of the dandelion flower.

A whistle. A bang.

She sprung up in her seat, sleepily alert. The kettle she had set earlier had just reached boiling temperature, which it really wasn't meant to do considering what she had put in there.

She raced over to it, lifting the kettle to pour it into the nearby vessel.

"FUCK!" She shouted as she dropped the kettle. It was still hot, who would have thought?
She sighed in defeat and pain as it clattered to the ground and spilled everywhere. It wouldn't damage anything, not after being boiled, but it'd be annoying to clean up, and, if she left it to dry out, it'd leave a dangerous salt.

So she cleaned it up, treated her hands, and got the ingredients for a new batch ready. The brewing would have to wait though, as she had a delivery to make.



As she was walking she considered the speedy recovery Skurr had made. He was still in a bad way, but no longer delirious or in life-threatening stages of infection.

She still couldn't tell whether it was the healing she had been providing, or the man's fitness that had kept him alive. It wasn't worth considering the healing the priests had been providing. Monika knew that prayer did nothing but reassure the mind.

She was glad that the priests had been accepting of her talents enough to hire her to heal Skurr though. In this week she had learned more about healing than she had in the last month, purely due to the frantic study it took to attempt to dull the symptoms.

It was as she reached Skurr's door that she remembered the note, and the peculiar paper it was written on. That would need attention later.

"Your medicine, Skurr," she called, knocking on the door.

El was definitely the right person Annabeth was looking for. Humble but honest, a hard combo to find. Most people would just accept praise or downplay their ability to the extreme. A balance was needed. Annabeth walked towards the dock's district. "Aye I do. Well... Somewhat actually. I don't know him personally, we've never spoken before. But during the battle just a week ago, I stationed myself at the front gates. When the enemy broke through many defenders were lost as I tried my best to hold my own against the commander of the enemy forces. Fortunately another warrior arrived to thin the numbers, causing them to scatter so that I could focus my attention towards their leader. He had the look of a seaman of him; someone used to the salty waves and rough oceans. It would certainly explain how he handled himself so calmly in the midst of chaos. He skewered soldiers left and right as if they were nothing more than fishes in a barrel. He seemed a stoic sort, as after the battle I've only seen him alone, healing when he was taken to the temple due to his wounds. Still I believe he's a man of good judgement, steady aim, and strong will. A perfect addition to our team yeah?"

Though it embarrassed Annabeth that despite knowing his deeds and actions, she doesn't even know his name. Calling him "the fisherman" felt dishonorable for all the things he did that day. He was arguably more useful in defending the gate than the rest of the city's militia, who had either died or fled once the marauders had broken through. "Fortunately, while I was assisting the sailors with moving the dead to be dumped into the ocean, I saw him head into what I presume is his home. I figured we'll pay him a visit and see if he's doing well."

A short walk to the docks and Annabeth would soon find where the mysterious man lived. To her surprise however, she also spotted another visitor knocking on his door. Annabeth vaguely recognized her as the apprentice of a local wise man of some sort. The details eluded her, but she did see her a lot more after the battle of Tamberle, tending to the wounded. She could be a useful addition to the party as well though Annabeth knew nothing about her aside from her ability as a healer, and not even that. "Hoy there! Are you here to see the fisherman as well?"

@Royaletutor59@Strange Rodent@Haeo

@Zaphander@Strange Rodent@Haeo

---

"Aye I do. Well... Somewhat actually. I don't know him personally, we've never spoken before. But during the battle just a week ago, I stationed myself at the front gates. When the enemy broke through many defenders were lost as I tried my best to hold my own against the commander of the enemy forces. Fortunately another warrior arrived to thin the numbers, causing them to scatter so that I could focus my attention towards their leader. He had the look of a seaman of him; someone used to the salty waves and rough oceans. It would certainly explain how he handled himself so calmly in the midst of chaos. He skewered soldiers left and right as if they were nothing more than fishes in a barrel. He seemed a stoic sort, as after the battle I've only seen him alone, healing when he was taken to the temple due to his wounds. Still I believe he's a man of good judgement, steady aim, and strong will. A perfect addition to our team yeah?"

Nodding, El gave a small hum in agreement as she followed after Annabeth, gently tugging on Ava’s lead to signal her horse to follow after them. If what she says of the man is true, he really does seem like he would make a good addition to the team, and if the beast they’ll be hunting is truly as dangerous as Annabeth suggested, they’ll need all the good warriors they can get.

"Fortunately, while I was assisting the sailors with moving the dead to be dumped into the ocean, I saw him head into what I presume is his home. I figured we'll pay him a visit and see if he's doing well." Once again Elithiana gave a nod, it really was a fortunate coincidence that Annabeth had happened to see him, it might have been hard to locate him otherwise. “That is fortunate.”

The walk to the docks was reasonably short and with Annabeth leading the way they soon reached what El assumes is their destination. Someone else seems to have beaten them their though, as Elithiana saw a young woman knocking on his door. She recognised her as one of the people assisting at the chapel, she remembers seeing her tend to one young man in particular who was suffering from delirium as well as an infection from what looked like a nasty head-wound. She remembers that while many of the injured had at least one friend or family member with them while they recovered, he was alone apart from the occasional healer. One conversation she overheard betwixt two men(she think their names are Rod and Longton? She can’t be certain, but that’s what they called each other at one point) described how fiercely he fought and how he had killed many of the invaders. Another conversation regarding him from another group was spoken in a much more sombre tone and she swiftly directed her attention elsewhere, but not before hearing most of what was said…

Hopefully that young man was making a good recovery…

Shaking her head, she brought her attention back to the situation at present just as Annabeth called out: "Hoy there! Are you here to see the fisherman as well?" Giving the woman a bright smile, Elithiana gave a nod in greeting as well as a small wave with the hand not currently holding Ava’s lead. “Greetings.”

After about an hour of answering reparative questions and waiting for the list of names to fill Hark called everyone who he enlisted to get on line. The group was smaller than he had hoped considering the size of the city he was in but considering what they were about to go face he didn’t blame people who lived cushy lives To drop anything and go fight. Hark’s men had formed up on the opposite side of the new recruites and were facing them.

Hark’s second in command, Jagger, walked up behind him, “Twenty-seven in total, not the numbers we want but the men look sturdy enough not to all die in their first battle.” Hark looked over the group once more, “Lets hope you’re right.” As he walked the line he studied the faces of his new section and came to a halt in front of a tall figure wearing armor and a helmet. “Do you show your face?” Hark asked as he looked into the helmet, a cold pair of hazel eyes met his gaze. A cold “No” was the reply the stranger gave him and to Hark’s surprise the person was a female.

“Very well”, Hark said as he took a step back to study the woman closer. She wore armor that was well wore which showed she might have had some experience. “Congratulations on your promotion, you’re now the section leader of these new pukes. I’m going to need you to divide you section in two and then pick a team leader from the two teams.” Hark nodded to the woman in armor and then headed to the middle of the section and looked looked over the group one last time.

“Alright listen up Pukes”, He said in a voice loud enough for all to hear, “You will receive your first months pay right now before I realease you. But armor, a sword or pike and a shield whatever is left is yours to do whatever you wish with. If any of you decide to back out you will return the coin we have given you and if you don’t you better start funeral preparation.” Hark looked at the groups and could see a few looks of unease amongst the group, “Meet back here tomorrow morning before sunrise, and enjoy yourselves because you might not see your families ever again. Dismissed!”

As the group broke Jagger along with Eric and Stormer were calling the men over to a chest to hand out their first months pay. As the group filed through Hark saw the woman he promoted to section commander and walked over to her, “What is your name?” He asked.

Jester whinnied in protest as Derra removed her from the stall. "Ca'mon ye mutt. Let's go. The kiddies will be by when we come back to bring you your snacks."

She was getting used to the way she was treated here, being the only pony a lot of the children came to play with her during the day. Derra didn't mind this, as it gave the pony something to do and the children something to keep their minds off of the recent tragedy. The little red pony was as sweet with children as she was vicious in protecting her rider, and she loved treats. She had noticed there were fewer and fewer children in town as the days wore on, many families were escaping the city and moving to places that were more inland and less accessible.

"Ho there, leaving so soon miss Derra?" this from the stable master, a tall man built for riding horses. "I thought you were to stay a while?"

"Not leaving for good yet, but things have changed. The healers no longer have a place for me, so I am finding a new way to acheive my clan's goal." Derra said. She looked up at the man over Jester's saddle -barely.

"Well good luck to you then. Don't see why the healers have no use for you, war's comin' and they'll need all they can get." the man nodded at her with an understanding smile and walked away.

It would help if those in power looked at me with the same attitude as a humble stable master. Derra thought as she climbed into Jester's saddle. She was used to being treated as if she was still contagious by those in higher stations, especially healers. They were afraid of the pox she had had as a child, as it was deadly and spared almost no one.

She trotted Jester out of the stable and began plotting her search route, looking for any sign of the woman from the guild board. She headed in the general direction of the docks, thinking that she was likely getting supplies. With any luck she would find her quickly and have an idea what her next move would be.

(Edited)

Shortly after knocking, Monika was approached by two other women, who called out greetings. The one in front, who was the one calling out, seemed familiar in the way that nags at you - where she'd seen her before was right on the tip of her thoughts. Behind her was a tall, graceful looking woman who didn't say much, and as such seemed more Monika's speed.

"Good day. Yes, I'm here to see Skurr. I have a medicine here that should help his body heal." She said, gesturing to the bag by her side. "What are you here to see him for?"

---

@Royaletutor59@Zaphander

Command, something she hadn't held in over half a century. The Grandmaster had assigned her command of the rest of the recruits without barely more than a cursory glance over her. She wasn't sure if this was a sign he was a fool, or much smarter than the average man. On the one hand giving command so readily was a risky tactic, but then maybe he was wise enough to see that she was probably the best choice to lead the rest of the recruits. The others were simple farmers, laborers or the like. People who'd never fought a day in there lives. Sure there were one or two rough and tumble lads there, a boy craving adventure, a older man who had the slouch of a worn-down guard, but she could tell that many of these men would not return. Not without more training than she could hope to offer.

Taking her role seriously however, she looked over the group and picked the two leaders she thought best. One was the older guardsman, the other a slight man who claimed to have experience living in the wilds. She wasn't entirely happy with her choices, but given what she had they would have to manage.

Later, as pay was being handed out, Mergoux collected hers, but instead of slipping it into her already fairly hefty coin-purse, she took it and handed five coins each to her chosen team leaders with a command. "Do your shopping, buy everyone a round and donate what's left of this to the local orphanage." she said. "And if I find out you didn't follow orders, you'd better hope you can choke down the rations without any teeth." Her voice was a low snarl, and though both men had nursed ideas about betraying her woman's trust, those now vanished entirely.

Turning around, she saw Hark approach her. She folded her arms in a standoffish manner and waited for him to speak. He wanted her name, but she was not going to give it. Better to remain partly anonymous. "Ezra. Ezra Creed" she replied shortly. "Will that be all sir?" she asked, wanting to find a tavern and a good pint before retiring for the night.

The sounds of reconstruction and continuing salvage efforts were muffled by the thin wood walls of the worn building. Little more than a shack, it had been Skurr’s home for some time. Skurr sat on his single small stool. His hair was clean and his wound was closed but it was likely to scar. His hair might never properly cover that line where the axe had struck. But, that truly was unimportant. He had never made his way in the world by his looks in the first place. But, could he make his way in a broken city that had earned the ire of a powerful man? Could he stay?

At his feet was a travel sack with all of his small collection of possessions. His spear stood against the wall with one thin ray of outside light glinting on its blade. There was a sheaf of harpoons and a smaller one of javelins leaning against the simple bed beside it as well. His eyes had not strayed from that sight since before dawn. He had meant to only get his things in order while ordering his thoughts. Before he knew what he was doing he had packed as though he was never coming back. Then again, he didn’t have a reason to come back once he left. Maybe his body knew something that his mind hadn’t come to realize yet. His head didn’t hurt much anymore, just a bit of an ache if he moved to aggressively.

He had nearly joined her in the afterlife. No… he wouldn’t have been with her, not even there. They weren’t joined so firmly as that. He had done his best, he knew that beyond a doubt. But, he had still failed to truly accomplish anything. No… he had saved a few lives. He had ended the lives of some who needed to die. He had survived. It was just disheartening that he had failed to do anything that he had actually set out to do. In fact, he had only survived thanks to the determined skills of a stranger.

Even with her help, it had been close. His memories of those days were vague and confusing, a blurred mix of memories, nightmares, and fleeting moments of consciousness. Those memories… had been vivid enough that he thought he was going to join them. But the nightmares were even more potent. He thought that he had gotten over his fear of them. Perhaps that was impossible. No fisherman… could truly escape his fear of the shadows in the deep. Even in his brief moments of lucidity, he had been driven by the dregs of that lingering fear.

After he was finally well enough to be left alone he had begun rebuilding his strength as fast as possible. His days were a determined cycle of hard work, rest, and food. Though, he had been careful to avoid letting his healer spot him working. He knew that she would be worried if she knew how hard he was working to recover his strength. Still, he wasn’t a fool. He knew that danger doesn’t sleep or flee when good people become weak. He needed his strength back, and quickly. That may have been his first battle but it wasn’t likely to be the last. It seemed like the balance of power was shattering like poorly maintained skiffs in a storm. The shadows will feed well for the next few years it seems.

A sudden change in the noise outside disrupted his thoughts, words in a voice that was vaguely familiar. Then a knock at the door and a familiar call. It was time for his daily treatment… and he had company as well. The time for thinking seemed to be over. He had left the door unbarred so he simply waited for a break in the conversation outside.

“Enter… all of you that will fit.” Skurr said loudly as he turned his focused brown eyes on the doorway. His tone was calm but his voice was pitched to carry well. They probably would have heard him clearly even if the door and walls weren’t full of gaps.

@Zaphander @Strange Rodent @Royaletutor59

Walking up to the woman Annabeth bowed her head. "My name is Annabeth Elliot. This man, Skurr, fought alongside me a week ago during the battle of Tamberle. I wanted to make sure he's doing well and if possible ask for his assistance in a matter that is important to me. I need someone of his talents." Annabeth spoke with confidence and honesty. Now that she had a closer look at this woman, Annabeth was certain she saw her tend to the healers and she was indeed the apprentice of a fairly intelligent man in the city, a Sr. Georges. "Hmm... You're Sir Georges' apprentice, are you not? Forgive me for not knowing much more beyond that, I've only had heard of him. Still he must have taught you much; you skills at healing is far superior to my own!"

As Annabeth spoke the door open. Sure enough it was the fisherman she had seen at the battle; even as she was focused on fighting and surviving, she would remember his face as the only other person there who did not show fear. Even outnumbered and outmatched he had the steely determination of a man with a mission, and because of it he stood here before her today whereas many either fed the fishes in the sea or rested in the crypt of the city. Annabeth bowed her head deeply towards Skurr as she allowed the other women to enter first. "Thank you good fisher. I'm glad to see you safe. Did you hear our conversation? I apologize if we were loud." Once the others entered, Annabeth would enter and close the door behind them.

@Royaletutor59@Strange Rodent@Haeo

It seemed like Yumi wasn't the only one chasing after the lady knight. As she was casually watching, Yumi noticed an odd looking dwarf following the warrior's trail. Her face was marked with pox scars, something Yumi knew well. Many of her girls had the pox which forced them into a miserable life due to their own families shunning them. And Yumi, ever the opportunist, made sure to pick them up, clean them off, and make something of their lives. And this chance wasn't going to pass her by!

It didn't take long for Yumi to figure out where the dwarven lass was going so she made sure to get ahead of her in time so they would cross paths. Thinking of a line to say Yumi stepped around the corner to confront the dwarven lady. "Hello there. Chasing that lady knight as well?" Yumi extended a hand out to the woman to shake. It was a custom in these lands, or at least Yumi has seen various traders and menfolk do this. Personally she didn't like that level of physical contact but she knew if she extended her hand to this woman, it would show that Yumi didn't fear her pox. "That makes two of us. My name is Yumi, a traveler and trader, and I have business with that woman. Who are you, and if I may ask, what is it that you desire most?"

@Arreyis

Derra looked up at the stranger, even saddled on Jester she was still a bit shorter than Yumi. Jester sniffed at the woman's pockets, strangers often gave her snacks and she was fammished in the way only a fat pony could be. Derra took comfort in the fact that Jester wasn't skittish around this stranger, and shook the woman's hand.

"I'm Derra, and yes I saw her grab a poster from the guild hall and thought I'd see if she needed a Healer on her quest." She thought for a moment about the woman's question, thinking it odd she would ask what Derra wanted. In her world it was only what the clan wanted that truly mattered, Dwarves usually sought what they wanted for themselves later in life when they had affixed their place in the clan. "I suppose for now what I want is to serve my clan and people in the best way I can as a Healer. At this time that means learning all I can to bring back to them new skills. I'm to stay out in the world for three years before going back."

She fiddled with the pack behind her for a treat to give Jester, if she didn't give her something she might start biting at the woman's clothes. She lightly patted the pony on the head to get her attention and gave her a treat made of oats and sugar. She felt the pony shudder with pleasure as she ate it.

"Sorry about her, she's always hungry. Dunno how she's not as big as a boudler eating as much as she does." Derra said, looking back at Yumi.

After making a decent amount at the previous city, George moved onto this one out of being bored with the previous city and hearing interesting rumors about this one. The thought of witnessing a skirmish of orcs excited George. It would make an excellent experience to sing and tell about, both for money and excitement. As he walked in he noticed a line of people receiving pay that was quickly shortening in length. Curious.

He grabbed the nearest person and asked, "What's going on over there?" The gruff man snuffed at George and tore himself away from George. That didn't quite work but as to be expected. He continued to ask around. By the time he'd finished asking, he was in the marketplace asking a maiden who was helping move caravan stuff from a cart.

"Excuse me, my lady, but may I ask what's going on with the line and the chest of money?" George pointed towards the line.

"That line?" She said, "It's for recruiting people. The army folk have been going around asking anyone stupid enough to go to war with them against the orcs. Though, the pays good. I give it that." George smiled and gave a short thank you. George turned and began walking towards the line. He then realized he'd strayed away and that the line was probably almost finished. He ran.

Just as the last person was taking his pay, George barely made it when the sun finally disappeared underneath the horizon. Panting, he rested a hand on a knee while facing his face to the ground. The other hand held one finger up, as if to signal to speak. After one deep breath, he finally propped himself up.

"Which one of you is the employer?" He blurted as the masked man and the armored woman stopped mid-conversation to stare at him. "Ah, I forgot to introduce myself." He prostrated himself to his full height before saying, "I am George Arend Lark," doing a flowery bow when he emphasized "Arend" and finishing with a cheesy flourish at "Lark."

@Elevation@Overlord Thraka

@Zaphander@Haeo@Strange Rodent

---

As the voice called from the door, granting them entrance, Elithiana turned to her steed. Running one hand fondly through Ava’s main she softly gave her the command to “Stay.” Before following the healer inside with Annabeth right behind her. Though she didn’t like having to be separated from her faithful companion, she knew for a certainty that her steed would not fit in the small house and that staying outside would be mandatory for her. She knew that she didn’t have to worry about her girls though, once told to ‘stay’ only El herself would be able to get her to move once again, something that one or two thieves learned the hard way in the past. Nevertheless, she’d prefer to settle this as swiftly and efficiently as possible so that she wouldn’t have to leave her beloved horse alone for too long, and as such immediately focused all her attention on the rest of the rooms occupants.

Her eyes almost immediately landed on the fisherman, Skurr, as the healer called him, she immediately recognized him as the young man she previously recalled the healer tending to. A bright genuine smile crossed her face as she gave him a nod in greeting, happy to see that he was in a much better condition than before. “Apologies for the intrusion,” turning slightly she gave a nod to the healer as well, “and for getting in the way. I’m Elithiana Woodenbrooke, El to my friends, it’s a pleasure to make both of your acquaintances.” Giving a small bow, her smile never faltered. Going off of what she heard about him in the chapel and from how Annabeth described him, not to even mention the strength it must have taken him to recover from where he appeared to be at deaths door, he would be a valuable addition to the group indeed, in the event that they can convince him to join that is.