Jacob sighed as he walked towards the capital of Ylisse, many people along the way had whispered of him and his status as the Champion of Naga. A few people, especially in Plegia had gifted him food or water on his travels, yet now he was home in Ylisse half the population seemed to avoid him and the other half just stared at him like he was something that had come from the outer realms. He sighed as he neared the castle, he hoped to find safety in the halls of the academy. As he neared the beautiful white walls of his home, the Ylissian Academy of Strategy and Tactics. However he took note of three men, each of them brandish axes with symbols of Naga around their necks. The problem was he didn’t know if they meant to follow him or the Church, the Voice of Naga. He turned to face them when he heard the the sound of heavy footsteps behind him. He cursed under his breath as he drew his tome in one hand brandishing a sword in the other. “You're here to ambush me, well I suppose this is a good spot. Personally I would done it further away from town.” With that they fell upon him, five in total he dodged and parried, he was fast enough and strong enough to hold his own but rotten luck lead to him taking a glancing blow along his side.Standing up he readied himself, it looked like the Champion would be dead soon unless some intervened.

Jerod was speaking with some merchants over supplies of some sort or another. The list wasn't really his concern, he had been asked to go deal with the stuff by the local innskeeper of the district, in return, his room and board would be reduced. It was a helpful thing, considering he was a bit strapped for funds at the moment, damned religious naga worshippers had been a pain in his arse, constantly trying to sway him and otherwise condemn him, made finding work hard in most places. But, just as the merchant turned him away, he heard some commotion. Turning, he quickly analyzed the situation. Three, no, five men, ambushing some lad who looked too young to be holding that sword and fancy magic book of his. None watching their backs from intervention. Well, that simply wouldn't do, and he rested his hand on his sword, starting his run towards the combat. "Oi, ye brazen nutters! Over 'ere!" The sound of footsteps, fast footsteps, and the unsheathing of a sword was evident and two of the men turned in time to see a mail wearing warrior, brandishing an iron sword in a two handed grip, charging right into their attempted ambush. The man charging was tall, easily taller then the highest standing of the cravens ganging up on a youthful boy, even as armed as he was. Beneath the weather worn traveling cloak was a mail vest, lighter than the plate favored by man professional soldiers, but it provided protection enough for the man's purposes. He bore no mark of status, no identifying insigna as to some well known hero or villain, but he acted anyways. A swift, strong kick to the midriff sent one man stumbling back, and he locked sword against axe with the other, half grinning despite the situation. "No restin' lad, still got three of the sodders on yer end." A hard cross draw broke the stalemate, leaving a cut, not lethal, on the face of the man he had been locked blades with. The other fellow he had put the boot to was on his feet and re engaging, and Jerod moved fast, far faster than his frame would have belied, parrying and knocking him away again, turning to backstep from a downward swing, sparks flying from the mail coat as it caught the tip of the enemies weapon. A counter stroke was made, not felling the man yet, but at two of the lad's assailants were more then preoccupied right now, and given time, he would certainly best both of them. That much, Jerod was certainly confident about. So far, momentum and speed had carried the man, and he pressed this advantage, either striking or knocking away one foe or the other, alternating between the two to keep their focus on him. Three on one was bad enough, but five on one from two directions? Not fair at all, so Jerod was leveling the playing field for the young lad.

Nephene looked up from the bench where she was planning her trip across the kingdom to the sound of clashing blades. She eagerly set down her map and charged into the fray of those fighting, she recognized the Champion of Naga, dazed from a blow and an experienced myrmidon fighting off the axeman. However the Champion was still in no condition to fight three soldiers by himself so she launched herself into the fray. Nephene came into the small fight as a blur of motion smashing one axeman into the wall with her shield and engaging the other two. Hopefully the Champion could fight off one axeman as bad off as he was. She struck another man in the gut with the butt of her spear and lept backwards as the other mans axe came crashing past where she had just been. She whirled her spear and slashed towards them pushing the two men back giving herself and her two temporary comrades some more breathing room.

Jacob was shocked by the appearance of the two fighters, perhaps his luck was changing. A hatchet came flying towards he ducked as took the hood off his robe. He sighed resigning himself to his bad luck, the free brigand made a clumsy rush towards him screaming loudly. Jacob waited until he nearly set upon by the marauder side stepped and swift buried his sword in the mans neck. Next he drew his spell book and with the snap of his finger the brute the kind myrmidon had engaged screamed as he burnt alive, he looked at the older man. "I'm not a lad, I'm Champion of Naga and a prodigal tactician." With that took position alongside the spear-wielding woman as four more assailant took position at the end of the street, a priest, a mercenary, a mage, and a archer who was calling the shots ordering the remaining brigands to join them. "Miss stick with me, we go up the right." He looked to the swordsman he had free'd up. "Your on the left, you seem to have the more experience than us in combat." He spoke hoping is hastily prepared plan would work.

Konnie was walking down the cobblestone roads towards the Capital of Ylisse, her red robes and hat made her easy to spot among the people but she wasn't known as a heretical rebel by the common folk yet. Her own family are most likely only learning of her disappearance, she has never been one to follow her older siblings around or even agree with them. But she has to stop the church from killing to many innocent people. She needs to find the Champion of Naga and she needs to protect him until he can stop the church. She walked for a bit until she could see the white walls Ylissian Academy of Strategy and Tactics walls could be seen looming past. She looked at the walls, impressed by the design of it, but she heard some noises. There was a brawl happening, five axemen were attacking a teen, he looked like the description of the Champion of Naga, he was younger then she hoped but she has to help. A bearded man branded his sword and was fighting off two of the Axemen, a green haired woman was fighting of another two, the supposed Champion looked hurt and he was one on one with an Axeman. She had to help the group. The three of them split up, the spear user and the champion went to the right while the myrmidon was to go to the left. She walked up to the group with her thunder book ready for combat. "Champion, I shall assist, I be willing to go with the myrmidon, but that choice is up to you." She spoke frankly, they don't have the choice to go slow, they need her.

Jacob bowed his head to the women as the enemy attempted to find a decent position to advance along. "I would be honored if you help us, I'm Jacob Champion of Naga. Please assist our friend here, we can speak more when it's all said and done." With that he readied himself and looked towards the enemy. The Archer on the opponents side was a fanatic, while Ylisse remained neutral to the church a few highly radical and devote followers had arrived in a early attempt to convert the people and nation into joining them on the crusade. His name was Gheb, a hunter whose family had been decimated during the war years ago he saw this as a chance to ensure the Risen never returned. He had taken those willing and planed to kill the little Blighter calling himself the Champion of Naga. "Kill the Champion and burn the heretic who fight with him. He fired a wild arrow landing it near one of his own men.

"Champion of Naga, prodigal tactician, whatever ye say laddie. We be stuck in the same mess of yers." Jerod grinned, taking some enjoyment out of ribbing the younger man as the man burnt alive, turning to finish off fifth bandit he had been fighting, kicking his knee out and driving the sword home into his skull. Bracing his boot, he shoved the dead bandit off his blade and turned to see more bandits gathering. Some religious nutter, sellsword, spell slinging skirt wearer, and some brittle bowyer who seemed in charge. Of course, lad tactician set out some orders and he shrugged, shifting his grip on the blade as he turned towards the left, making an offhand comment at the time. "Ye got it lad. Hey, lady lance a lot, good luck with the kiddie champion." Jerod was about to go onto his assigned path when some new mage lass showed up, instead offering to help them rather than jumping in on the bandits side. She offered to tag along with the Myrmidon, and he shrugged in a good natured way. He gave magic users good natured mocking, he did it to everyone really, but they were always helpful to keep around on hand. Magic reached farther than most swords did, after all. Glancing at the preparing bandits, he looked back at the other three and cricked his neck to one side and the other, popping the joint audibly. "Fine by me, spell spitter. And use Jerod, if it pleases ye." Watching the arrow fail to do anything usefull, on top of the madness he was spitting out, Jerod laughed in their faces. That amused him to no end, considering even if it was a ruse, he would assume it was, that wasted time and ammunition on the archers part. And that was foolhardy. Jerod was ready on the lad Champions word to move, speaking to the lady mage in the meantime. "This sodding tosser couldn't tag the broadside of that academy wall at this rate! Let's go spell spitter, time ta show em real soldiering. At yer word, laddie."

Ah, the capital. Although his past jobs had brought him here often, Rylan was for the first time actually here of his own accord. With no work to be done, the young man had decided to take advantage of the in the lull in his employment and do a little sightseeing. He had always been interested in checking out the Ylissean Academy, but the opportunity had never presented itself until now, and he wasn't about to let this opportunity slip from his fingers. Perhaps if he were lucky, he'd find some poor student to corner and to interrogate. Lips curving into a smile, he started in the direction of said establishment. He had so many questions that he needed answered, and-- --he froze, the smile on his lips faltering as the cacophony of shouts and clashing weapons reached his ears. _Gods, all that shouting up ahead--has a fight broken out? Definitely sounds more serious than some tavern quarrel, anyways._ Hand dropping to the hilt of his blade, Rylan considered his options before carefully continuing forward, his shoulders tensed. As soon as he came to the corner, he glanced around it, brows creasing at the sight that met him. "What in gods name?" Moving out from the cover of the building but staying a fair distance away, the myrmidon's gaze swept over the scene before him, his eyes flickering from one figure to the other. _Now that looks like an unusual mishmash of fighters._ The boy in his teens in particular caught his attention, if only because he didn't look like the type who would jump into a fight like this--not willingly, anyways. Hand never leaving his weapon, he let out a quiet "huh", but made no move to either join the fray or to retreat. Instead, he cocked his head to the side and stood there in the background, observing the scene with keen interest. Ah, yes. Rylan was ever the helpful one.

Jacob rolled his eyes at the fighter. "Alright then, everyone lets show them what we can do!" Jacob sheathed his sword deciding to let his armored companion take the lead, he could cover her with his tome. He knew it was a bad idea but he needed to defeat these idiots if he was to reach the castle or the academy. He set alight the one the warrior woman had trapped with her shield and gave her a smile, his wound forgotten as he tried to be strong this ragtag band. Gheb had finally organized his men and trained his eye letting loose much more accurate arrows as the other moved to protect him. He knew that they would win, Naga was on there side, right? "Kill them all! In Naga's name!" He cried to reassure himself than his men. The Mage went left as the priest attempted stood behind him the Mercenary went right to stop the young tacticians advance.

She bowed herself at the okay from the Champion. She shall prove herself to him. She watched the enemies on the other side fire an arrow at a random direction almost hitting one of his own, she smirked, and a soft giggle came from the bottom of her throat. If the enemies were as skilled as he is, this should be easy for them. The Myrmidon spoke to her shrugging at her idea on staying next to his side. He called her a spell spitter, she smiles. the man calls himself Jerod. "Good to have your approval Jerod, now let's smite and stab people." She remarked in a lighthearted manner. She ran to the left side, fast enough to avoid arrows and spells if they were to use them but slow enough for Jerod to fallow suit.

"Ha, right-o spell spitter, let's toast the sodders and toast to a victory well earned!" Jerod stormed forward, seeing the mage and priest angling to the left path he was moving on to intercept them or attack, whichever it really was, not much of his concern. He pulled ahead of the mage girl, not intending to let her lead the charge, she wasn't even wearing any real armor from the looks of it, and that would do at all. Of course, the enemy mage was trying to stop them with spells, fire strikes of some sort or another. Jerod weaved back and forth between spell hits, not intending to even slow down for the mage, literally shoulder checking him into the wall to the myrmidon's left, leaving him for the spell slinger to 'smite' in her own words, and bullrushed onto the priest instead. Taking down unarmed foes was hardly sporting, but in this kind of fight, he had little room for mercy. Besides, that man could undo their hard work, and that would not do at all.

“Hmm…hello there Mr. Corpse. Do you mind if I take something from you? Or do you still need those eyes of yours?” The Dark Mage known only as Marianne stood still. Actually, it was really more like kneeling. Yes, here she was, kneeling in front of two fresh corpses. One was a charred black, presumably from being burned alive, and the other had a stab mark driven through is neck. Oh what a terrible way to die…but she had to admit, it was just more profit for her. Studying the one with the torn neck, she had already decided that the burned corpse would be no use to her. By now, all of the soft tissue would have crisped over…no, that won’t do at all. Funny how no one was noticing her in the middle of combat doing such a morbid routine. And really, why should they? The Church wasn’t her fight. Naga wasn’t a part of her fight either. All that really interested her right now was the supposed Champion…and those sweet eyes lying in the dead man’s skull. Humming to herself, she bent down and proceeded to study the dead specimen further when someone else caught her attention. Someone still breathing evidently. Glancing up, her one crimson eye focused on a young man standing near by with purple hair. A Myrmidon from the looks of it….smiling, she waved at him to try and gain his attention. “Excuse me sir,” she called out politely. “Would you mind in helping me do something? You see, I really need to take these eyes. It’s of the utmost importance.” The Champion could wait. Eyes always came first.

In hindsight, maybe it wouldn't have been a bad idea for him to have joined the fray. At the very least, he would have been able to avoid the very unusual conversation that he was about to partake in. Somehow, the presence of the girl had gone unnoticed until she had addressed him. For a moment, his grip on his sword tightened, but then it relaxed upon realizing who it was who had spoken to him. A girl with an eyepatch? He thought it to be a little odd, but certainly not nearly as odd as the fact that she was casually crouching near a corpse. Arching a brow, Rylan shot a quick look at the fight before quietly making his way towards her, taking care not to attract any unwanted attention. Coming to a stop beside her, he peered down at her with a dry smile. "You know, it's awfully dangerous to be hanging around here. And what's this about eyes?" Gaze drifting towards the corpse, he folded his arms across his chest and warily nudged at its head with his boot. "You don't mean that you want this guy's eyes, do you? Because I'm not exactly in the business of corpse looting. ...Not _this_ kind of corpse looting, anyways," He corrected after a moment of thought. Apparently he had no qualms about casually discussing it, though. It seemed like that was a whole different matter.

Konnie stayed behind away from Jerod's sword stabbing. Jerod went up ahead and she watch him body check a Mage and get ready to attack the priest, she gotten into a combat stances and quickly catch her breath. Konnie prepped up a spell to smith the Mage with when he is recovering from Jerod's shoulder check. A spell was aimed right at the enemy. And she prepared for a second strike at the Mage.

Nephene quickly did as the young man ordered and charged at the new arrivals up the right side straight towards the Mercanary attempting to stop them. She quickly dodged under the sword strike and slammed him into the wall with her shield shoving him around to allow the tactian to get past him and directly attack the archer. The Mercanary struggled to fight back but she outranged him with her spear and she easily batted away his attacks with her shield.

Jacob smiled as he rushed archer, two arrows went flying one stuck in his shoulder and another grazed his cheek but he didn't stop, he just grasped his sword tighter. He pulled it out and with one swoop the Gheb was dead, as were his men. Jacob turned looking at the those around him, spotting another swords men and a young girl... No wait, a Dark mage easy to spot them there magical presence was... Different to say the least but they were good at hiding it to. "Thank you for aiding me, I'd be dead if not for your brave efforts." As he spoke he ripped the arrow out of his shoulder gasping before quickly applying vulernary to the wounds. "I suppose introduction are in order, I'm Jacob, a tactician and Naga's Champion if Lady Tiki is to be believed." He sighed examining his ruined robes. "Great, I'll have to get this tailored. Anyway if any of you would like to join me I'm heading up to the castle, I need to see about some aid for my quest." He turned his robe fluttering behind him. He almost looked regal as he walked towards the castle people watching in awe, those who had hidden now cheered. The Champion of Naga was real, at least to them.

Jerod had just wrenched the blade from the priest's neck, which was mostly severed. Mostly. He heard the hostile mage being dealt with appropriately, with lightning if the sound, and smell of charred flesh, was to be believed. Wiping the blood off his blade, he wandered over to the tactician lad, sheathing the blade and chuckling at the surrounding combat zone. "Ach, this is a right bloody mess we've made. Lad, I hate to tell ye this, but I think these tossers are a bit miffed about ye being this Champion o' Naga or whatever ye call the blasted title. Call it a blind ol' hunch, aye? Not that this lot didn't do half bad I wager, these backstabbin' sodders never saw it coming!" Jerod was clearly still, despite the gravity of the situation, giving the lad a hard time, all in good fun of course. And the others present got a bit of it too, just for good measure. But when the lad mentioned a quest, Jerod fell in behind him, stretching and checking over his mail coat to see if it needed fixed. Quests meant gold, and he needed gold right now. Plus, he'd get to see the world like he had been doing already, on another man's pay. Sounded fine by him. "Well lad, I haven't helped carve up mercs to dash off now. Ye have my aid, fer what it be worth."

Isacc had reached the capital of Ylisse he put the horse he had rode all the way from the port to a nearby stable and took a stretch and released a yawn as he began to enter the city.The youthful noble looked over himself and his belongings to see if he had everything and everything seemed fine he had his trusty Rapier and sword along with a Vulnerary he also had some money all of 2000 gold. His first stop was to head to the exalt and hope he could get an audience if anyone could help calm down the church it should be the ruler of a country right? so he began making his way to the castle on the way he could hear several rumours talking about "The Champion of Naga" a person that quite frankly Isacc couldn't care less about to him it was just a normal person mixed up in something nobody should have to deal with alone. after awhile Isacc entered a clearing and noticed several corpses a few of which were to burnt to distinguish who they may have been. He also noticed a somewhat weird group of people looking like they just got out of combat. He was wondering if he should question them on it but noticed a youth fitting the description of the champion of Naga or at least close enough to the rumours he's heard so he decided he may aswell calmly walk up to the group and ask what happened. "Hey there you seem to look like the description of the champion of Naga so I'm curious what exactly happened here where you attacked by fanatics or something?" "If so don't worry I'm no threat just trying to see if I can get an audience with the exalt."

_"You don't mean that you want this guy's eyes, do you? Because I'm not exactly in the business of corpse looting. ...Not this kind of corpse looting, anyways."_ “Oh, but don’t you think his eyes are so wonderful sir? Just look!” Smiling at the newcomer, Marianne leaned in to gently pry the dead man’s eye lid open. Her fingers and thumb gently caressed the iris, as if treating a wounded animal or comforting a newborn. It was…well, really creepy if one had to be blunt with her. “You can tell from that little speck in his lower corner that he died believing in what he fought for. And that he was scared. Really, really, really scared. It’s funny sir!” Suddenly, the edge of her fingers began to glow with an inky purple smoke. She was using dark magic to do something…without warning or notice, she quickly plucked the dead man’s eye right out of his socket. A soft _plop _sound was faintly heard as the dark deed was done. Grinning widely, she held up the dripping orb for the Myrmidon to see. The iris was a rich blue in tint. “Oops. Never mind. I suppose I didn’t need your help anyway? No, that’s not right…I guess I just wanted an audience. ” She giggled happily before placing the severed eye into a small pocket on her dress. “Nosferatu," she began to explain. "It’s really a handy little spell, right? The user grows strong by taking the victim’s life and stamina. Or, that’s how it’s supposed to go I think.” Turning around, she was about to plunder the second one when she sensed the air around them shift. She turned back to notice that the Champion’s presence was soon fading. Sighing, she gave the corpse one more longing look before making up her mind. “The Champion is leaving without us sir, so it’s best for us to take our leave now, lest we lose track of him. I hear he’s got some pretty cool looking eyes himself. Isn't that why you want to meet him too? You came here to meet him, right? Because he's got awesome eyes...right?” Not caring for a real answer to her questions, Marianne grabbed the man’s hand with the palm that held the eye, smearing blood and eye fluid all over his figure. She eagerly began to pull him along in the direction of the Champion. She didn’t take more than five feet before pausing. “By the way mister, about you…it looks like you have two different colored eyes.” She turned around and flashed him a smile. _**“If you die on me…promise me I can have them. Ok?”**_ Her tone immediately changed once more as she whirled around and continued to make haste for the Champion. Just what was with this girl?

...Well then. _Well then_. This girl was certainly...quirky. While he considered himself someone who was rarely unnerved, the smile on Rylan's face was definitely more strained looking than usual. Still, his eyes narrowed with interest upon seeing the dark wisps that curled around her fingers, head tilting slightly to the side. A dark mage, was it? That seemed oddly...fitting. Dark magic and dark in mind, right? The young lady certainly seemed to be a somewhat morbid individual. After all, it wasn't everyday that he watched someone pluck out a dead man's eye and hold it up to him. Staring at the object that seemed to be leering right back at him, the myrmidon gave a little shrug of his shoulders. "I...suppose that he has--er, had?--quite a pretty eye color." Too bad it was no longer in his eyesocket, but in the pocket of a strange girl. He'd probably be rolling in his grave had he had one. "_Champion_? What are you talking about?" Rylan's eyes widened in confusion, though a quick glance to the side revealed that the fight that had broken out had already ended. He hadn't even noticed, what with his odd company monopolizing most of his attention. Opening his mouth to deny that he had come here to meet up with anyone, the words abruptly died on his lips as soon as the girl's hand--the one he knew to have been holding that gross eyeball--slid into one of his gloved ones. ...Alright. Well, he supposed that he wasn't...entirely attached to these gloves anyways. No big deal. He would just...burn...them when the next opportunity arose. Finding himself trailing behind her despite having no desire to follow after her, Rylan's free hand came up to touch the corner of his eye when she referred to their mismatched color. "...Yeah, about that. I don't intend on kicking the bucket anytime soon, but if I do, I'd reeeeally appreciate if you left my eyes in my corpse, thanks." There was a beat, and then, "Where in gods name are you dragging me off to anyways?" It wasn't like he had anything important to do, but going off with a corpse-looting stranger to find this "Champion" had definitely not been on his checklist today.