Discussion Thread

Birds chirped in the light of the early morning sun, its rays piercing through the last wisps of fog still lingering in the shadows of the dense forest surrounding the village. Swirling tendrils of smoke rose from chimneys as the day's first loaves of bread were being baked. Villagers left their homes as they began their morning routines: a shepherd boy led his flock along the dirt paths to the nearby field; a washerwoman carried two large baskets filled with clothes to hang on clotheslines; the small marketplace slowly stirred to activity as the vendors put out their wares. It was a humble village of simple people.

The marketplace was the hub of this village. It was an open square that had been trodden down after years of use, and a path ran directly through it. The closest thing to a road running through the entire village from east to west, was commonly used by travellers journeying to Imdalor, the capital of Emeldia. It was here in this square, standing higher than any of the stalls, was a three-storey structure, an inn with a small stable at its rear.



Prince Tobias groaned as the first rays of sunlight fell over his face from the window. As if on cue, he heard a sharp rapping on his door, though before he could even answer a large woman in her late-40s entered the room. She moved about the room like a whirlwind: pouring a bowl of steaming water into a small tub; starting a small fire in the fireplace; and pulling open the curtains to brighten the room. She hummed to herself a cheerful tune as the beleaguered teen pulled the pillow over his head.

"Come now, my lord!" said the woman with a disapproving clucking as she wiped her hands onto her apron. "Up! Up! Up!" she said while gently tugging the pillow from the boy's hands. "Captain Xerxes and Mr. Boris are waiting for you in the private dining room, and if you wish to have that final lesson before you leave on the morrow, you'll have to stir yourself up at once. My Boris is a busy man."

"Alright, alright, Mrs. Joyce" groaned the young prince as he stood up with a stretch. He heard a sharp gasp from the corner of the room, noticing Joyce's eyes looking upon him with gentle fondness.

"By the light," she said with slight awe "It's as if I'm looking at a portrait of his imperial highness. He must be so proud of you, gifted in magics as he is."

"I'm sure he was" he muttered under his breath as he put on his clothes behind a folding screen. News of his father's death had not yet spread to the remote locations of the empire, and he had no intention of bearing that news himself.

"Alright let's go" he said as he stepped out from behind the screen. They exited the room and walked down the hall to another room, Mrs. Joyce opening the door for the youth. Inside was a larger space with a larger fireplace, and a solid oak table in the centre. Captain Alborz and an older man in his fifties looked up from their bowls of porridge.

"Good morning, my lord" said the old man with a sincere smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Boris, Alborz" he said nodding to both of the men as he sat down in front of his own bowl. "How fares Ignavus, will he be ready for our departure tomorrow?"



The road was not cruel, but it was not easy either for the princess and her two compatriots. The nights were still quite cool as expected of early spring, though they did not wish to draw attention to themselves as they travelled, so they only built small fires. She had wanted to travel quickly and without notice, so her initial annoyance with the guardian knight proved to be quite constant. This changed however as they came across bandits, for two allies in battle definitely made for a shorter skirmish than just one.

It had taken them two weeks of barely any stopping for them to reach the Emeldian border. The two weeks had allowed the princess and her friend to come to trust the loyalty of the knight, despite the suspicious manner in which they had crossed paths. Nevertheless, Jax maintained an air of mystery; clearly he had secrets, but the princess was willing to allow it for the sake of rescuing her little brother. She was relieved to have covered so much distance in such a small amount of time, but she was worried that she would be too late, for she knew that there were others seeking to harm him.

The air was fresh and cool as the trio travelled through the forest, the great pine trees soaring to the clear blue sky above. Birds chirped above them as they flew about from tree to tree, singing their early morning chorus. In the distance they could see light smoke drifting into the sky, it was the sign that they were approaching a village. After travelling through the wilderness for days, the princess looked forward to a warm meal.

"Once we reach the village, we can ask around to see if they've seen a yellow wyvern pass by within the last few days" instructed Amelia "We can then buy some stew to take with us onto the road to the next village." She turned to her dear friend, Mitra for some sort of reassuring agreement to her plan; she greatly trusted her judgement: "Does this plan seem sound, Mitra?"

(OOC: Just a note, only Mitra is allowed to refer to Amelia and Toby by just their first names.
To Alborz they are Princess Amelia, and Prince Tobias.
To everyone else they are "my lady", "my lord", "my princess", "my prince" and whatever other regal titles.)

(OOC2: Unmentioned characters thus far are free to be citizens of the village, travellers coming through the village, or guests staying at the inn)

The birds were not the only species greeting the morning with song in the soft light of the forest path. Interspersed amidst the shrill chirps of sparrows and jays was a lower whistle, an airy sound that wove in and out of the avian songs as it lent an air of construction to the raucous melodies of the perched choir. It would have been difficult for anyone with an untrained ear to tell exactly where the lower whistle originated, but now and then it turned to humming that was noticeably easier to track, provided one were already in the vicinity. It was loudest near a section of the path over which the branches from two trees on opposite sides of the roads had grown together to form a sturdy arch. The arch was covered by a thick carpet of red moss, illuminated lazily by what morning light found its way through the leaves above. A selection of vines crept down here and there along its length, their tips drawing tiny circles in the dirt of the path below as they swayed amidst the gentle rustle of the forest.

As Princess Amelia’s party neared the natural gateway, what had passed till then as the chanting of a baritone bird morphed suddenly into words. They were muffled, at first, but grew in clarity as the trio approached.

...a yellow-tailed wing-ed lizard flying in the sky
Pretty lady wants to know, where that lizard sailed
I saw that lizard, that I did, unlike her lazy eyes,
But memory stirs, only when spurred
By plate o’ grub and pint of ale.

Near the end of the ditty, a portion of the moss above the arched was dislodged by a rogue branch that had broken free and swung down a foot or so, as if on a hinge. As it did so, something fell off the branch’s end, hitting the dirt below with a dull thud. The small object was - or appeared to be - what was left of a leather sandal. A look back up at the trees betrayed the fact that the swinging branch was not a branch at all, but rather a human leg. Another branch began to move. This one revealed itself an arm, complete with a hand and fingers that were now pointing at Princess Amelia. A gravelly voice emerged from beneath the natural carpet atop the arch.

“Oy, ladybird. Toss me back my sandal.”

The sun had scarcely crested the horizon when Amelia's company began their hike, barely enough light penetrating the canopy to make progress possible. A light mist dampened the air around them, and the morning dew clung to their boots with each footfall. It was a cool morning, too cool perhaps for Mitra's tastes, but she remained silent. Mouthing off to the weather accomplished little in her experience.

Mitra exhaled slowly, keeping a close eye on the surroundings as the group made their way along the forest path, her fingers brushing the handle of her axe. The journey had taken its toll on her; She hadn't had to rough it for this long in years. Though she liked to preserve her image as a tough, rugged fighter, in reality she had become overly reliant on the relatively cushy living conditions of the palace. At least they were done with Relia. Cutting through the mountains was considerably quicker than taking the long way around through Granden, but it had also carried with it certain marauder-y risks.

Fortunately, the group hadn't encountered anything they couldn't handle, thanks in no small part to Jax. While Mitra had initially been adamantly opposed to his inclusion in this venture, her distrust had faded when he very conveniently proved himself a valuable ally offscreen. Anyone who would help to protect Amelia was all right by her, even if he was a bit aloof. The knight's presence was a great help in combat, and while it could be argued that they wouldn't have seen nearly as much combat without him hanging around, he was nonetheless welcome.

Mitra looked up at Amelia, walking at the head of the party. This excursion reminded the young woman of her early days serving under Empress Ingrid. She briefly closed her eyes at the recollection. The princess and her mother were alike in many regards. With her tenacity, it wouldn't be long before they found Prince Tobias.

"Once we reach the village, we can ask around to see if they've seen a yellow wyvern pass by within the last few days." Amelia spoke suddenly, shaking Mitra from her thoughts. "We can then buy some stew to take with us onto the road to the next village. Does this plan seem sound, Mitra?"

"I should hope so, my lady." The fighter responded, rolling her eyes at the mention of a yellow wyvern. "It would be quite worrisome if our method was flawed this whole time."

Mitra quieted as she heard the faint sound of singing up ahead, growing louder as they approached. She scowled as the lyrics became clear, intending to ignore the red lump from which the words emanated and simply walk past. Her expression shifted to one of confused irritation when a shabby piece of footwear landed on the ground in front of Amelia.

"Oy, ladybird. Toss me back that sandal." Said the lump, addressing Amelia. Mitra's face twisted even further, and it took every ounce of her restraint not to shout 'how dare you address her highness that way?' Instead, she took a deep breath, then bent over to pick up the sandal herself. It wouldn't do to have the princess touching the filthy thing. The young woman lifted it to about eye level, turning it over in hard hand, then looked up at the man in the tree. It was difficult to tell, but using his dangling arm as a frame of reference, she took a guess at where his head would be and chucked the sandal in that direction as hard as she could.

The first rays of morning floated through the window and danced on the floorboards as Herlewin let out a tremendous, contented sigh. He was usually up and about by this hour, but the boy hadn’t splurged on a room with a real bed in a while; he was going to relish every moment of comfort he could squeeze out of the mattress. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and by all accounts it was going to be a beautiful day. Lazing about was great.

Still, as good as life was right now, there was no guarantee it would be as grand tomorrow. If the performer wanted to afford to stay in inns more often, he would have to plan out his route for the coming months carefully. Luckily, thinking could be done from within the confines of the covers, and so the boy sank ever deeper into the blankets as he began plotting out his course.

The most obvious choice for the next stop on the route was Imdalor: like all cities, it would be home to large, affluent crowds that could be worked for weeks before the citizens grew tired of seeing the same entertainer every day. Managed well, a single stop in a city could be more profitable than a season’s worth of shows in villages. On the flip side, larger settlements often meant heftier price tags on lodging, rival performers competing for space and busy crowds whose attention could not be easily pulled from their daily business. Herlewin had been developing techniques to remedy the latter two difficulties without the aid of a dedicated barker, but they were as of yet mostly unproven in their efficacity. Lucrative as it had the potential to be, a sojourn in Imdalor presented a risk that couldn’t be overlooked.

Scratching his head, the boy arose from his fortress of somnolence and began his morning stretches. He’d base his decision on today’s performance. If it managed to produce a sizable crowd in even this small village, he would deem himself ready and would try his luck in Imdalor. If not, he’d bum around a few more villages until he was confident that he’d perfected his ability to draw in an audience. Deftly moving from one exercise to the next, Herlewin completed his routine, grabbed his pack and made his way down the inn’s stairs. He very nearly succumbed to the odour of the inn’s patrons enjoying the first meal of the day, but quickly banished the thought and forced himself outside. Breakfast could wait; the first order of business was to patrol the surrounding forest and find a suitable, concealed clearing to put the finishing touches on the evening’s act.

Jahan slept soundly in his room at the inn in Emeldia, turned to the side facing a window. He arrived there the day before on a quest given to him by his archery master, Alvin. Jahan's master told him to seek out a supposedly Famous Medic, named Daniel or something like that. The medic lived in a village somewhere in Emeldia, as his master, needed an emergency visit, meaning that Jahan had to drag the Medic all the way from Emeldia to Alvaris. Or Jahan could have learned how to use a stave, but that wasn't going to happen. Jahan's Master needed this particular healer because Jahan, during an Archery training session, accidentally shot his master in the leg...Five times. His master would've let the wound heal naturally, but there were other apprentices who needed training, and so he needed to be healed as fast as possible. To Jahan's dismay, Alvin never mentioned any specifics about what village this Medic lived in. Jahan only knew the region, which happened to be filled with HUNDREDS of other Magic users. Just. His. Luck. Jahan stopped at this inn to take a break. He heard that this specific inn had really good food, but he only heard about that the second he walked through the door. Jahan woke up and opened his eyes.

"Yawn! ...GAH!" Jahan yelled, startled by the blinding yellow light that shined on his face. He fell out of his bed. "Ow..." Jahan got up, rubbed his eyes, and changed into his "work" clothes. Green hat, red tunic, blue leggings, blue boots. Jahan then sat on the bed to think for a little while. "This trip better be worth it. Why must the best health care be so far away?... I wonder how Master will teach while his leg is all.. mangled... " Jahan took his bow and quiver full of arrows, and left for the dining hall. He could already smell a tantalizing aroma coming from his destination.

Helle woke early, partly because it was a habit that had been drilled into her over time, and partly because some bird outside of her room felt it necessary to start squawking as loud as it possibly could. She rose from her bed with only some reluctance, donning her clothes quickly and wrapping her scarf around her neck. Once she had worked out the tangles in her hair and decided she was fit to start the day, she quickly gathered her belongings and descended the stairs, following the scent of cooking food below. After she had eaten, she would go on her way. Helle's journey was of no grave importance, a silly thing in pursuit of vanity rather than practicality, but she liked to get her business done as quickly as possible. Certainly her father wouldn't approve if it kept her away from Torbica too long.

She sat herself down in the dining hall, eating a simple but filling breakfast. When the sun was higher in the sky, she'd continue on her way to Imdalor. For the time being, the food at the inn was really quite excellent.

Discovering the princess and her companion late that night may have been chance or it may have been fate, either way all his choice in the matter quickly disappeared as the princess explained who she was and recruited Jax for protection- not that he would have had it any other way. Since then the group had been on marching orders, which, surprisingly that had been managing to keep even though the two young ladies were not used to such treks and Jax's armor was an incredible burden. The only major detour was when the group was accosted by bandits. Jax of course knew it would happen eventually, it always happened eventually, but he still had to wonder what stupidity drove someone to attack a group with a guardian knight. Especially one that was on foot with nary anything of worth between them. It turned out that the bandits weren't worth worrying about though. Between Jax's defense, the princess's skill, and her companion's power the bandits were easily dispatched. Afterwards the two girls started showing Jax a fair bit more trust, whether warranted or not. While the bandits were no problem, Jax easily could have been. It wasn't intentional, but in the heat of the fray he had almost split the princess's companion's skull open. She had moved and fought so much like a Torbican Reaver he had forgotten for a moment which side she was on, luckily she was moving away from Jax instead of towards him so the blow missed by a wide margin.

But that was the past, and this was the present, and while this ambush didn't seem like that of bandits, it could very well erupt into a fight depending on how Mitra handled it. And it was with violence, of course, it was low level stuff, but retaliation was in the enemies court, and who knew if they would escalate. Ever cautious, Jax took a step forward and readied his shield.

The clattering from the plates made of clay were quite sonorous in the public dining hall. It seemed that many of the inn's patrons were early birds, as was expected of a village that was merely a pit stop en route to the much larger cities, and the mystical city of Imdalor. The aromas from the kitchens swirled throughout the hall as serving girls rushed back and forth to each of the tables to ensure that the guests were filled before the next stretch of their journey.

Overseeing the entire scene was a young woman with dirty blonde hair. She looked much like Mrs. Joyce, though with a markedly stern smile that rested on her face. Every now and then one of the serving girls would approach the woman, who would then bark a quick order, leaving the girl to scurry back into the kitchens. Violet was her name, and she ran the inn like a captain ran his ship. Her mother, Mrs. Joyce, had long since become disinterested in running the inn, preferring to manage the kitchens and tend to "special guests" in her retirement. Even she did not know with whom her father and mother were meeting with at all times during the day, though they were certainly of some importance for the knight that had arrived travelled on a rare, if not odd, coloured wyvern.

"Oy! Lass!" spoke up one of the travellers sitting across from Helle. He was a scraggly fellow with matted beard of brown and grey. His clothes looked worn from extensive travel, and his face was lined with wrinkles. Nevertheless, his clear eyes betrayed a sharp mind. "Yee have a looks about yer," The man nudged his companion who seemed more interested in the food before him than the crazy old man's ranting. "Ain't she, Milo?!" The man called Milo looked up for a second at Helle and grunted indistinctly.

"Yer one of 'em! One of them Torbicans! I can see it! Don't you lie to me, lass!" He turned to Milo "Strong as an ox she is, I bet. Look at 'er!"


OOC Note: Jahan is also aware of this interaction as he is in the same room.


"Are you ready, my lord?" asked Mr. Boris as the last bits of breakfast were cleaned from the table by Mrs. Joyce.

"Yes," nodded the prince with his typical impassivity.

"Very well," he said with a slight groan as the older man stood up from his chair. He walked over to the fireplace, where a few books rested on the mantle. Taking one of the books off of the mantle he blew a cloud of dust off of it, revealing that it was a tome. "Dark magics are often quite misunderstood" spoke Boris instructively as he licked his finger tip to turn the fragile pages of the book "Some say that darkness is akin to wickedness, but this is not true. Darkness is knowledge, and knowledge is power, but many fear power and thus, fear darkness. If you choose this path, many will judge you without knowing your works or the goodness in your heart." The tone of Mr. Boris heavily implied that he spoke from personal experience.

Nodding, Prince Tobias took the man's lesson to heart, though his drive had not been extinguished.

"Very well," smiled the old man "Let's see what your majesty can do."



With an audible "slap" the decaying sandal hit its mark, a feat most impressive for one who had merely calculated where the man would be. Once again, the princess found herself pleased to have brought along Mitra on their journey. What the man had said however had peaked her interests greatly, and rather than allow the situation to escalate any further, she chose to placate her comrades.

"Alright, alright," she said with a raised hand, though it had to be noted that her other hand rested lightly on the hilt of her sword. "Come with us, and at the first inn or tavern, we shall spur that memory of yours regarding a certain wyvern." She hoped that Mitra and Jax would have the sense not to give away her identity, for the man seemed crafty and she did not know whether she could trust him.



It did not take long for Herlewin to find a clearing in the surrounding forest, though he was not alone. As he stood in the shadows of the clearing he noticed that a small camp had been made and was in the process of being packed up. There was a group of three reavers, two lancers, a duelist, and two archers roaming about the camp and another woman who seemed to be in charge.

"Hurry up, you imbeciles!" commanded the woman. Herlewin's keen eyesight allowed him to clearly see the woman who sat at a distance on a tree stump with her legs crossed and her arms folded. She was a petite woman, wearing a scarlet bodice with slim black leather pants that reached to the middle of her calves and laced black shoes that were tied snuggly to her feet. Her hair was a dark brown, and cut to pixie length, her bangs sweeping across her forehead and covering part of her right eye. Most frightening was the dagger and sword that rested on her hips, she seemed to emanate a threatening presence, despite her small stature.

"Oy! Lass!" Startled by the outburst, Helle started a little but ignored the man, hoping he'd become discouraged trying to get her attention. She stared at the table with determination, but he continued, undaunted. "Yee have a looks about yer."

What does he want? Helle wondered, gritting her teeth together. "Ain't she, Milo?!" And of course he had a friend with him. Her eyes darted upward, but thankfully, Milo didn't seem to want any part of the man's rambling. Even so, the old man simply kept on talking. "Yer one of 'em! One of them Torbicans! I can see it! Don't you lie to me, lass!" Once again he looked to his friend, but Milo was still uninterested. "Strong as an ox she is, I bet. Look at 'er!" Couldn't he take a hint? Well, if the stranger was so determined, Helle decided she would see what he wanted.

"I am Torbican," Helle said testily, resting her arms on the table and leaning forward. She looked the man over and narrowed her eyes, not sure what to make of him. "What do you want?" He hadn't singled her out for no reason; did he want some task done, or was he just a crazy old man who spent his days bothering strangers in the inn?

The lump let out an audible cry as the sandal struck true, evidently surprised that its request had been answered with such swiftness and precision. As far as tree hotels went, that was a first. Granted, the lump was none too pleased about the fashion in which its request had been answered, and it made certain to comment on the poor service as the exposed hand peeled the sweat-soaked piece leather away from the mound.

“Your stableboy has an arm on ‘im, ladybird,” said the man in the lump - for it was, in fact, a man - now propping himself up on an elbow to peer over his perch at the group below. Bits of moss fell away from his face, revealing dark, sunken eyes, a clever nose and a thin mouth open wide in a cheeky grin that revealed a set of yellowed teeth, one of which was missing. Perhaps more surprising than what fell away, however, was that which remained. The tangled mass atop his head appeared to be a permanent resident, seeing as it was intent on remaining in its resting place even after a vigorous shaking. The man had clearly not groomed himself for several years, if ever.

“You should tell him to hold ‘is temper, lest the lot of you anger a guardian spirit less gentle than I,” he continued, still surveying the trio. He winced ever so slightly as his eyes came across Jax, but overall he appeared to be satisfied. Sitting up and reaching down to his exposed foot to put the sandal back in its place, he revealed himself to be wearing long robes, caked in mud and various forms of greenery. He addressed Amelia once more.

“And tell the walking armoury to stand down. We spirits of the forest do not take kindly to sharpened metals.”

His warning issued, the man reached behind himself and tossed a pair of staves onto the path below. He followed in short order, landing with a grunt on the side opposite the arch from the princess’ company. The man retrieved his walking sticks, sheathed one of them into the back of his robe and out a small hole near the waist, and dusted himself off - to little effect. He turned around and c.ocked his head, as if to give the group one last evaluation. Then, with one hand he used his second staff to push aside the vines hanging from the arch above, and with the other he extended an open palm toward the path beyond, beckoning the group to follow him.

“Now, ladybird,” he said once more. “This way, if’n ye please. This forest spirit is plagued by a great hunger.”

When Alborz woke he was in the stable leaning against Ignavus. The knight thought for a moment before remembering the dreadful nightmares he had during the night. He remembered coming out to the stables for comfort from his companion. He shook his head tossing aside any thoughts of the previous night as he stood. Alborz brushed himself off before heading out of the stables. It was still dark out with some small glorious rays of sunlight peaking over the horizon. After a deep breath and a small amount of stretching Alborz headed out to bathe.
The water was soothing and refreshing. After he was cleaned he returned to the stable to feed Ignavus. The wyvern stirred as Alborz prepared the beast's delicious meal. Ignavus made a screech of happiness as he shoved his head into the bucket of fish. Alborz continued to stay by his companion until the reptile finished it's meal before Alborz walked into the inn.
Once inside he greeted the maidens and went towards the dining hall. He was the first there. He sat down and began to eat his meal in peace. Shortly after an older gentleman walked into the room. Alborz stood greeting the elder before offering to assist him in anyway needed. Once the elder declined Alborz softly nodded and returned to his meal. He ate slowly savoring each bite reminding himself that in his line of work any meal could be his last. Once Alborz had eaten his fill the prince entered the room. Alborz stood at attention waiting for the prince. When the prince addressed him he answered whilst in his unwavering pose.

"Ignavus is doing marvelous. Thank you for asking, Sire." Alborz continued to stand there waiting for an order. Even as the prince began his lesson Alborz didn't move but rather waited for the prince to finish.

Jahan took his seat at a small table near the corner of the dining hall, farthest away from the door. Once he got there, he sat and let his nose absorb the glory that is the smell of... Breakfast... Jahan's meal for his nose was interrupted by some loud mouth somewhere in the dining hall.

After hearing Oy! Lass!, Jahan said quietly to himself "Oy, shut up.." Jahan called over one of the serving girls and ordered his food. But, Jahan stopped in the middle of his order, childishly curious about what some old man could possibly be talking about, and why everyone in the dining hall had to hear it. "Torbicans? Never heard of them... That's probably not important..." Jahan almost gave his full attention to the conversation, if it wasn't for the serving lady, who waited awkward for minutes, asking him to finish his order. "Hm?... Who are you?... OH YEAH, my order..."

Mitra crossed her arms and looked on as Amelia addressed the newly besandaled lump, both she and Jax readying themselves in case of trouble. A pointless gesture, though their vigilance was appreciated. The young woman had dealt with many unsavory types before, and the danger of someone like this was not in their fighting ability, but rather their cunning. Fond as he appeared to be of the forest, such a shady fellow was likely familiar with the art of trapping. She would keep an eye out, though something told her the most they had to fear from this man was being conned. If they weren't careful, they could be sent on a wild goose chase, their coin pouches all the lighter. If Mitra had her way, they'd not deal with this vagabond at all. As such, she felt a distinct need to pinch the bridge of her nose when Amelia decided they would humor him.

Nevertheless, Mitra would not openly oppose her liege. If the princess thought that pursuing this lead was worthwhile, she would go along with it. Moreover, it wouldn't do for her to be throwing assorted garments at anyone who was addressed Amelia informally. They were supposed to be keeping a low profile, after all. Mitra wordlessly listened as lumpman spoke, being generally ungrateful in the face of Amelia's charity and referring to the reaver herself as a stable boy. Whether this was a weak attempt at a slight or an honest mistake she couldn't say, nor did she particularly care. When the man revealed himself, however, it was all she could do to keep from shrinking away in disgust. I mean yikes. Nevertheless, she quickly collected herself.

"My sincerest apologies, noble spirit of the forest." Mitra began, giving a slight bow as the group began to move again. "I know not what came over me. I assure you, I am usually much more composed."

It was going to be a long day.

While it was irksome that the first clearing he came across was occupied, a smile nonetheless formed itself across Herlewin’s face as he eyed the campsite: it seemed the showman’s ability to convoke an audience was a little too strong this morning. From what he could see, there were ten or so individuals gathered in the glade, all of them carrying weapons and none of them presenting any particular semblance of a savory disposition. Describing them as a tough crowd would be an understatement.

Jokes aside, such a large contingent camping outside the village was an unsettling prospect. At first glance, they didn’t appear to be sporting any sort of recognizable uniform or heraldry, leastways not anything comparable to that commonly worn by Imperial soldiers. If they were a ragtag group of mercenaries willing to tolerate being called “imbeciles”, then the lot of them would be unpredictable at best and downright treacherous at worst. Certainly nothing to be trifled with, in either case.

Sensing that his appetite had suddenly returned, the boy promptly executed a heel face turn and headed back towards the inn. A delayed start to the day was vastly preferable to facing down a band of unfriendly, martially trained individuals. He consoled himself by telling himself that the time hadn’t been completely wasted; he knew where to set up to practice once the clearing was truly clear.

Jax had seen plenty of the two types of homeless men before, and this looked to be the type that choose to be so. It disgusted him far greater then what the man had on the outside. The man obviously could work, or at least tried to act like it, carrying around a pair of staves, so there should be no reason for him to live this life. It wasn't a good one.

At the princess's behest Jax lowered his guard. With it the slightest sound of metal could be heard, a nod, The closest Jax could or should make to a formal bow. Jax had no intention to trust the man, but it wasn't up to him, so he went along with it, as long as Mitra did. After all, if some thing were to happen deep in the woods like this and the man bolted for it after offering a grave offense it would be up to her to chase him down, if not the princess herself.