You spend the rest of the day in the castle, resting up and mentally preparing yourself for your mission. The King's servants bring you whatever you wish, and in this case, it's more alcohol so you can psych yourself up. Liquid courage and all that. By nightfall, you're as drunk as can be, staring silently at a wall as you usually do.
"Stop doing this."
"Well what do you want me to do?" you mumble, replying to no one.
"Anything else."
A chuckle escapes your lips. "Really? I guess you'd prefer me going on a drunken rampage and slaughtering all the guards."
"That's not what I meant, Kit."
"Then what did you mean?"
"I meant you need to stop drinking. It's not doing you any good."
"Of course it's not doing me any good if I'm having a conversation with myself."
"You know who I am."
"Quit lying. You're just a figment of my imagination I start hearing when I get too wasted."
"Please, Kit. For me."
"Buzz off." You throw the empty bottle of wine in your hand at the wall, then crawl into bed. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, and you need your sleep.

In the morning, you're woken up by a knock on your door. You get up, groaning slightly, and head for it. When you open it, Miller stands before you. "The King sent me to wake you. We're leaving today."

"We?" you ask.

"He asked me to accompany you, along with a mage in our military. A small enough team to get behind Kishak lines unnoticed, and hopefully enough to provide backup should you need it."

You nod, heading to the dresser to grab some clothes. Miller turns away so you can get dressed, yet you still speak to him. "So what are you going to bring to the table?" you ask as you slide into a pair of breeches.

"I was knighted at twenty-one, the youngest man to be knighted... Aside from yourself, of course. For the past seven years I have served the Royal Family, and have led many knights to victory against Kishak forces."

"Hrm. How good are you with a sword?" You put on your boots and pick out a shirt.

"I've never lost a one-on-one sword fight, sir. I have also managed to take down ten men at once with only minor injuries."

"This bodes well then." You finish your ensemble by sliding on a tunic. "Alright then. Let's get going." Miller turns to face you then nods. He allows you to grab your sword and hook it onto your back, then leads you to where you'll depart.

You head through several hallways before Miller stops in front of a bookcase. He taps on it once, pauses, taps twice, pauses, taps once, pauses, then taps three ties in quick succession. The bookcase opens slowly, and he leads you through a secret passage. A whistle escapes your lips. "How fancy."

"Indeed."

Miller continues leading you through the tunnel for what seems like half an hour before you come out the other side. You're in a clearing, about a mile out from the Castle, where a wagon and two people wait for you. You're not far from Kishak now, only a few more miles until the border.

One of the two people, a woman about a year younger than Miller, steps forward. She eyes you up and down, and looks unimpressed. "This is the legendary hero who saved our city? He looks like a drunk and smells like one too." You give her a quick glare.

"Hold your tongue, Iris. If it weren't for this man, we wouldn't be here talking today," the other person says, an older man who is checking the horses. You shift your glare to him. It wasn't just you.

"Please. This man had backup even then. Did you only hear the children's tales, Oliver?" the woman, Iris, asks. "If it weren't for his friends, I'm sure he'd have died not far into his journey." Well, at least she has her facts straight.

"Both of you, shut your damn mouths," you say, stepping forward. "Whatever your thoughts on me are, I'm the real deal, and we're here to finish a war." You turn to the man, Oliver. "I assume you're our driver?"

"Aye, I am. I'll take you as far as the border. There, you'll be on your own. Kishak's capital, Ornislov, is only a couple miles out. You should reach there in no time if you stay off the roads and don't stop for anything."

"Right," you nod. You head towards the wagon, motioning for Miller and Iris to follow you. "Come on. Don't have all day." You climb into back, and they follow. After a moment, the wagon begins moving towards the border. You stay silent for a moment, assessing Iris, before speaking up. "I did this with Miller so you should be no different: what are you bringing to the table?"

Iris scoffs. "I spent my whole life training at the Academy in Loren. I enlisted with the military when I came of age, and I've seen my fair share of battles. I can also speak fluent Kishak, so if you need a translation just ask me."

"That'll come in handy. How quick are you at casting?"

"I can get a fireball off before you can blink."

"Good enough for me." You pause, then consider something. "How'd you know about my friends? There's not exactly much documentation on the real story."

"You five passed through Loren twenty years ago, right? You helped the Academy secure a magical artifact while you were in the area."

"... Yeah, we were. What about it?"

"I was there. I was about seven at the time, and got to meet one of your friends. The mage woman."

Your face darkens. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. She was nice. Told me about the quest you all were on, even gave me pointers on how to be a good mage." A faint smile appears on Iris' face as she recalls your friend, Grace. "Even told me not to fall for some jarheaded fighter boy. I think it's obvious who she was talking about." Her smile shifts to a frown. "A shame what happened to her... I know I was being rude, but I want you to know that I am sorry for your lo-"

"Can it. I don't want your sympathy."

Iris glares at you, before shaking her head slightly and averting her gaze. The rest of the ride is silent, and before long the wagon stops. Oliver's voice pipes up from the front, "There's a gap here between the outposts. If you keep pushing through the fields you should reach some woods, head through there and just keep going forward. Eventually, you'll get to Ornislov."

"Right," you say, climbing out of the wagon. Miller and Iris join you, and you see the wagon off as Oliver turns it around and begins driving back.

You're beginning the march to the forest when Miller stops you. "I know a way to Ornislov that's faster, and bypasses the forest. However, it's much riskier and involves traveling out in the open. If we're lucky we'll get there much quicker."

You consider it. Miller warns that it's risky, but you're used to high risks. Maybe this path is worth a try?
> You say "No, we'll take the path that was suggested. Let's get going."
Miller nods. "Alright. We don't know of any outposts in those woods, so we should be able to get through undetected." With those words, the three of you continue on to the woods. You walk through the fields without incidence, and get to the edge of the forest in record time.

The three of you march through it, keeping an eye out. You're there for about an hour, continuing to march on, when you hear voices up ahead. The three of you stop in your tracks and get down low, listening. The voices are speaking Kishak. You turn to face your companions. "Can I get a translation?" you ask.

Iris nods, and listens to the voices. Her face goes pale. "... They're talking about how boring it is to be in an outpost in the middle of the woods." You and Miller share a look of surprise, then turn to face the direction of the voices again. A new outpost, one that the military didn't know about.

Miller pipes up. "We go around it as slowly and carefully as we can."

Iris shakes her head. "It can't be that many. We go in there and light them up."

Looks like it's up to you to decide what to do.
> You we'll go around like Miller suggested.
You shake your head at Iris. "That's a damn stupid idea. We go around it like Miller suggested, keep low to the ground. If we're lucky, they won't see us."

Miller nods in approval, while Iris scoffs. The three of you keep low as you move to head around the voices. As you push through the greenery, you notice the outpost. It's large and well-fortified; surprising, considering its location. Must be some sort of well-kept or something of the sort. There's a dozen Kishak soldiers wandering around, keeping an eye out.

The three of you continue walking. There's a few times when you're sure you'll be spotted, but soon enough you manage to move far away enough from the outpost that you can walk normally again. Your team releases a collective sigh of relief that you're out of there. The three of you continue through the forest without incident.

After a few hours of walking, you arrive at Ornislov a couple of hours into the night. The city is more like a giant fortress, surrounded by walls on all sides with no obvious entry points aside from the gates. Miller leads you around the city walls, to a sewer grate. "This is how we got in last time. Come on, get in." You and Iris crawl through the grate as Miller holds it open. He climbs in after you, shutting it.

Iris summons a fireball in her hand, keeping it held out to illuminate the area. The sewer tunnel stretches on for what seems like miles. There's a few latters every couple of yards, likely leading up into the city streets. Miller takes the lead again, walking past several ladders until he stops in front of one. "This is it. Above is a warehouse, where all the supplies are kept. There's guards around, so we'll have to take them out."

You and Iris nod. "Let's go."


Miller nods. "Alright. We don't know of any outposts in those woods, so we should be able to get through undetected." With those words, the three of you continue on to the woods. You walk through the fields without incidence, and get to the edge of the forest in record time.

The three of you march through it, keeping an eye out. You're there for about an hour, continuing to march on, when you hear voices up ahead. The three of you stop in your tracks and get down low, listening. The voices are speaking Kishak. You turn to face your companions. "Can I get a translation?" you ask.

Iris nods, and listens to the voices. Her face goes pale. "... They're talking about how boring it is to be in an outpost in the middle of the woods." You and Miller share a look of surprise, then turn to face the direction of the voices again. A new outpost, one that the military didn't know about.

Miller pipes up. "We go around it as slowly and carefully as we can."

Iris shakes her head. "It can't be that many. We go in there and light them up."

Looks like it's up to you to decide what to do.
> You we'll take them down like Iris suggested.
You shake your head at Miller. "Remember, this'll make it easier for the military to come through the area. If we're quick and efficient, we'll barely miss any time."

Iris nods, smiling in approval that you agreed with her.

Miller sighs, shaking his head. "I don't like it."

"Too bad. That's what we're doing. Now come on, let's go." You get up, unhooking your sword from your back, and march towards the voices. As you break through the brush and step into view of the outpost, you're surprised to find a well-defended fort instead of a dingy wooden watchtower like you were expecting. A dozen or so Kishak wander about, waiting for an attack.

"Shi-" Iris' curse is cut off when a bolt flies into her throat, and she collapses to the ground. She twitches for a moment, then goes still. A horn blows, and the soldiers all turn to you. Miller unsheathes his sword and charges at the nearest Kishak soldier, impaling him. He doesn't last long either, however, as a bolt flies true and hits him in the chest, followed by another. For added measure, a soldier runs up and runs his spear through Miller's gut. The knight falls to the ground, dead.

The remaining soldiers turn to you. You sigh, shaking your head. Dumb move. Shouldn't have done it. Now you're dead for sure.

You grin, however. Doesn't mean you won't go down without a fight.

You charge forward with a primal yell, meeting the soldiers head on.

THE END


Your latest quest begins not with the destruction of your manor or the death of someone close to you, but rather with a letter.

Bertrand, your loyal servant, comes to your room in the early morning hours to drop off today's dosage of bread and wine. But on the platter, tucked in between two loaves of bread, is a letter. The seal is emblazoned with the royal coat of arms. You eye Bertrand warily, and the old man gives a sigh. "Apologies, my lord. A knight came to the manor this morning, and he requested that I pass this along to you. The knight said that it's an invitation to the royal castle from the king himself. I suggest you read it."

With a sigh of your own, you rip open the envelope and unfold the letter, taking a look at the contents.

"Dear Sir,

I have need of a man of your talents. There are important matters to discuss regarding the ongoing war between the Kingdom of Oren and the Empire of Kishak. You must report to Castle Oren as soon as you may, though I urge you to arrive soon. If a week has passed without word from you, then I am afraid I must send my men to acquire you immediately. I hope that you will come.

Regards,

King Walter III."

You scoff at the letter. Bastard king, sitting on his throne while his dogs do the work. You suppose that he considers you one of them. The question lies in whether you are indeed one of the dogs that mindlessly obeys orders, or whether you'll break from the pack and carve your own path.
> You you've nothing better to do. You'll go to Castle Oren.
You shake your head slightly, before shrugging. There's not much you do in your day to day life, and at the very least, this is something. "Bertrand," you say. "Get to packing my things. I'm going to Castle Oren at dawn." Your servant seems very surprised by this, but immediately leaves the room to get a knapsack for you. He comes back not long after and begins packing the essentials: changes of clothes, a tinderbox from your dresser, and lantern oil, along with some of the bread and wine he came to give you.

He nods to you, taking the knapsack. "I'll pack it in your carriage, sir. In the morning we'll go." With those words, he leaves the room. You sigh, before popping open the remaining bottle of wine and beginning your daily routine. By nightfall, not a drop remains of the wine nor a crumb of the bread. The weight of the situation hangs heavily on you: tomorrow, you're going to leave your home for the first time in years to fight a war that isn't yours to fight for a man who will never care for you. It's enough to make you reconsider your plans. Almost.

At least, this is something you can use your talents for. Twenty years and your blade hasn't tasted a drop of blood. You feel as though you're getting rusty, that your time is long past, and it would be best to turn this offer down... No. You need to prove to yourself that you can still do this. Age means nothing for a person with your raw strength and skill, and you could kill four times as many men as a soldier half your age and twice your size. You were always told that you had a warrior's heart. Soon, you shall reaffirm it once and for all.

When the sun dawns on the horizon, you get up and get dressed into practical clothing. Then, you grab your old sword, giving it an experimental swing at the air. It's large, only a bit shorter than your tall frame, and almost as wide as your torso. A greatsword that no man but you could wield. After hooking it onto your back, you head down to where your carriage is stored. Bertrand is already there, waiting for you in the driver's seat. "I packed some of my things as well, sir. Hope you don't mind me coming with you," he says. You nod, getting into the passengers seat. He spurs the horses into action with the reigns, and the two of you begin the ride to Castle Oren.

You pass through a town on the way there and pass by several small hamlets. The sun is high in the sky when you see something on the horizon: a group of men sifting through a broken down carriage on the road. The men are dressed in fur and hides, and have chipped and dented axes at their sides. Highwaymen, bandits who prey on anyone daring to go from one place to another by the main roads. It makes you sick just looking at them. Then, you hear a woman's scream from the carriage. A noble lady in fine clothing runs from the carriage, screaming all the while. The highwaymen chase after her, abandoning the carriage.

You grip your blade...
> You ... Then jump out and chase after the bandits, intent on killing them.
Damn these sick bastards. Robbing and killing the innocent. You jump out of the carriage and begin to chase after them. Faintly, you hear Bertrand yelling at you, but the pounding of your head as a cold rage runs through you blocks out any sounds but the woman's screams. You chase the highwaymen down; it doesn't take long, you find them just as one tackles the noble woman to the ground. The others haven't noticed you yet.

You draw your blade, making sure that the chain keeping it tied to your back clinks loud enough for them to hear. They whip around, glaring at you; their eyes hold a mixture of primal rage and fear. One bares rotting yellow teeth at you, snarling like a dog. You put both hands on your sword, keeping a firm grip on it, waiting for them to make the first move. You don't have to wait long, as Yellow Teeth runs at you screaming, flailing two axes around as though he's a barbarian of the Northern Wildlands. You smoothly sidestep his charge, then bring your sword down at his legs. His upper body is sent flying upwards as your sword slices through his thighs and out the other side.

The other three highwaymen stare at their dying ally, the fear overcoming their rage. You draw your sword back and swing at nothing, the blood flying off. Droplets land on their faces. "Leave the woman alone, or you'll wind up like your friend," you say. To seal your threat, you take a step forward, and they immediately back off and begin running. You draw a dagger from your boot, stabbing it into the dying bandit's throat as you approach the woman to make sure she's okay.

"Hurt?" you ask, kneeling down next to the noble woman as she lays on the ground. She's hyperventiliating, looking around with wild eyes, before turning over and vomiting on the grass. You pat her on the back to help her get it out, then shake your head. "It's normal the first few times something like this happens. Once the adrenaline wears off, you feel sick to your stomach. Get up." You offer a hand, which she accepts.

"T-thank you, sir. I can never repay you. Those... Those thugs attacked my carriage, killed my driver and the stole all my valuables. I... I don't know how I can make it back home." She sighs, shaking her head. "I'll just have to walk, I suppose."

"Where were you going?" you ask, already wishing you hadn't.

"Elkstern Keep. Have you heard of it?"

You have, actually. It was one of the stops on your journey twenty years ago... And is in the opposite direction of Castle Oren, about two hundred miles away in fact. You'd have to arrive much later or even cancel your trip if you were to escort her.
> You damn it all, you're too soft for your own good. You offer to escort her.
You mull it over for a moment, before groaning internally at how soft you've gotten. "I can drive you. It's far out of the way of my destination, but I need to see you safe." Perhaps that was a bit too much, but the woman gives you a shaky yet radiant smile anyhow.

"You will, sir? Oh thank you, thank you!" She leaps up, giving you a bear hug. Your arms stay limp at your side.

You wait a moment for her to let go. Then another. Then one more. Finally, fed up with this contact, you push her arms off of you. "We must get going," you say. She nods, withdrawing from you and falling into step as you walk back to your carriage.

"What's your name?" she asks. "I am Lady Caroline of House Rorens, Fairest Lady of The Western Woodlands."

"Kit of Droburg," you reply, shaking your head slightly at the woman's title.

"Kit of Droburg? Are you not the same Kit that saved our kingdom two decades ago?"

"The one and only. And before you start, don't you dare start worshiping the ground I walk on."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Sir Kit. It is an honor to meet you."

The conversation drifts off just as the two of you reach the carriage. Bertrand is keeping watch, having dug a crossbow out of the back of the carriage. "Ready to get going, sir?" he asks, but you shake your head.

"Change of plans. We need to make sure Lady Caroline here gets safely to her destination. Elkstern Keep, about two hundred miles west."

Bertrand's eyes practically bulge out of his head, yet he keeps his voice level and calm. "That's far from Castle Oren, sir."

"I know," you say, grunting as you climb onto the carriage, "but I'm sure the king will understand our tardiness." You wait for Caroline to get into the back, then turn to Bertrand. "Let's get going, eh?"

He sighs, before nodding. Spurring the horses on, Bertrand turns the carriage around and begins heading west, in the direction of Elkstern Keep. You have a ways to go, but you know that you made the right choice doing this.

The carriage carries on into the horizon.
> You continue
The ride to Elkstern Keep is mostly quiet. Occasionally, Caroline tries to break the silence in an attempt to get to know you, but your grunts and shrugs to her questions discourage her. Bertrand stays silent every time she tries to talk to him. She probably wasn't expecting something like this, but at the very least she's getting to her destination in one piece this way.

A few hours later, you're forced to stop for the night. You use your sword to cut down a small tree, splitting it up into smaller logs to build a fire. As the fire rages, Bertrand sets a few strips of meat on a small metal pan and holds it over the fire. The only sound is the crackling of the fire and the sizzling of the meats; that is, until Caroline decides to speak up. "So where were you two going before you picked me up?" she asks.

"Castle Oren," you reply.

"Castle Oren? I was just leaving there. I was negotiating with the King, he wants to buy some land near Elkstern Keep that's under my domain. He was talking about building a second castle there."

It is Bertrand who replies to that: "Why would he want to do that?"

Caroline shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know. Castle Oren is rather old, but it's in great condition. Maybe the King wants to relocate?"

"It could be because of the war," you suggest.

"I've heard the war has been going as it usually does: no real advances on either side. Just an uneasy stalemate occasionally breaking out into a scuffle over the border towns."

"Perhaps the King fears it won't be like that for long, and wants to fall back. Castle Oren is only a few miles from the border, after all."

"Fair point."

Bertrand pulls the pan away from the fire as the strips are done cooking. He takes a few strips of meat in hand then passes the pan to you. You do the same, then pass the pan to Caroline, who looks at it strangely. "Aren't you going to eat?" you ask.

"Yes. I'm just not used to this is all." She hesitantly plucks a strip from the pan, giving it a cautious nibble. She sets the pan down on the ground and continues nibbling slowly on the strip of meat. By the time she's finished her first one, you've been finished for a few minutes and are laying down to sleep.

In the morning, the three of you pack up your things and get back into the carriage. You estimate that you're about a week's ride from Elkstern Keep, if you keep this pace up. Maybe you and Bertrand can alternate between driving the carriage while the other sleeps in the back to make the most out of the time you have.

It's about midday when Caroline finally pipes up from the back: "So tell me, why were you going to Castle Oren?"

Feeling in a generous mood today, you reply, "To meet the King."

Caroline laughs. "Well of course you were meeting the King, but why were you meeting him?"

"He wanted my help with the war effort. Drive the Kishak back to their own country."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I suppose there's no one who could do the job better. That man, the other day... I take it he wasn't the first one you've killed?"

"Wasn't the first, likely won't be the last."

She's quiet for a moment, likely considering your answer, before piping up again. "... What was the first one like?"

You consider the question for a moment. Your first kill. You haven't thought back on that day in a long time. It was about a week into your journey, and you and your companions had gotten into quite a bit of trouble. A group of Marauders, vicious barbarians and raiders, had ambushed you on the road. They weren't interested in killing you like most, though; no, they had something much more sadistic in mind.

You can still remember the screams. Just a kid, a year younger than you were. Had his whole life ahead of him. And they peeled the flesh from his bones. Took their time. Used a jagged rock. Lasted for hours. Felt like years. When the screaming stopped they were still peeling the meat off him. Cooked it. Ate it. Would've been you next. Fortunately for you they got distracted and left a single guard there.

You can still remember the way he struggled under your firm grip. Busted down the rusty cage door and charged right for him. Tackled him next to the fire. Choked him out for a bit. When that proved to be taking too long, you grabbed the pot of water boiling over the fire. Poured it all over his face. The scalding hot water peeled the skin from his face, and he screamed louder than the boy did. You shut him up by smashing his skull in with the pot.

When you freed your friends and escaped, they didn't look at you the same way for a while. You did what you had to do. You knew that. They knew that. Two weeks had passed when they started acting normal again. But you remember the looks in their eyes, remember the fear they held. That day you proved what you were capable of, and they were terrified of you until the day they died. You wish you could take it all back.

"Sir Kit? Were you going to tell me?" Caroline's voice snaps you out of your recollection. She looks concerned. "You've been spaced out for a few minu-"

"Stop."

"What?"

"Stop. Stop asking questions you don't want to know the answers to."

For a moment, there is silence. Then, you hear the cover of the wagon being drawn back, indicating that Caroline has retreated back into it. You sigh, then dig one of the bottles of wine out of your knapsack. You need it.

Bertrand doesn't ask questions when he sees you drinking. Just nods and continues driving.
> You continue
The next day of your trip goes by quietly. There's nothing but the open road ahead of you. Any travelers pass you by without a second thought, and aside from Bertrand and Caroline you haven't interacted with anyone since the highwaymen. It's peaceful, almost too peaceful; usually it means something will happen, and it comes when you least expect it. Of course, your gut is right on this one.

On the third day of traveling, just a day or so away from Elkstern Keep, you come across a bridge and force Bertrand to stop. The bridge is large, wide enough to fit three carriages side by side and about half a mile long. It stretches over a canyon, a long drop into a rapid river below. You see men in ragged clothing milling about; they haven't seen you yet, but if you move forward they will. By their looks, they won't be too friendly.

If you tried to go around, you'd lose a day of time. Safer, yes, but you really just want this to be over and done with. The bridge is risky but you're sure that you can defend the carriage. You look to Bertrand and nod. "Keep going."

He nods, spurring the horses into gear. "Think we'll run into any opposition, sir?"

"Not sure. Probably, though. Keep that crossbow ready." Bertrand nods and grabs the crossbow with one hand, keeping the other on the reins. The carriage continues on, heading towards the bridge. You draw closer to the men, who turn their heads and finally see you. Quickly, they start moving, grabbing weapons and preparing for you to come by. You notice one poking his head out.

"Take that one out!" you point him out to Bertrand, who shifts the crossbow and fires. The bolt flies true, hitting the man in the forehead. He slumps over, and his companions immediately open fire with a volley of arrows and bolts. You raise the flat of your sword and hold it up, using it as a makeshift shield. You and Bertrand are spared from most of them, but an arrow manages to hit him in the leg.

"Shit!" you shout, then jump off the carriage and begin sprinting towards the men. They shift their focus from the carriage to you, firing more arrows and bolts in your direction. You keep your sword raised to deflect any projectiles coming your way, and through sheer luck, you manage to get to the men with only the faintest of grazes to show for it. They back off and drop their ranged weapons, readying knives and rusty swords.

You swiftly dodge the first swing that comes your way, then back hand the man who attacked. He staggers back with a split lip, and you move in fast by smashing his face with the pommel of your sword. He falls to the ground, dropping his sword and clutching at his broken nose. You don't have time to finish him off, as another blade comes your way, then another, and another. Raising your blade, you deflect most of the blows and dodge others. However, one of the bridge men gets a lucky hit through, cutting your side. You hiss in pain but push on.

Quickly jumping back, you assess the situation. There's still more down the way, keeping crossbows and longbows at the ready, while there's a group of about six heading right for you. They're all clustered up close, as though they believe that will make it harder for you. If anything, it'll make it easier.

You rear your sword back, waiting for them to get close enough...

Then swing.

The massive blade cuts through three before it gets stuck in the ribcage of the fourth one. The three you managed to hit fall to the floor in pieces, flecks of blood spraying onto you and their remaining allies. You pull your sword out of the fourth man, who falls to his knees and screams in agony for his mother, before swinging yet again. His cries are cut off as the blade cuts through his skull, and out the other side to take down the remaining two.

You pant, catching your breath. You don't have long though, as a bolt flies true and lands in your shoulder. You stumble back with a curse, and nearly fall into the canyon were it not for the rail you grabbed onto. A horn pierces the quiet of the bridge, and you know what it means: they're calling for reinforcements. You're not sure if you can take on these men, let alone more.

The river is seeming awfully tempting. Maybe you can survive the fall and be carried away to some place safer...
> No. You've got to defend your companions. You'll fight as long as you have to.
You steel yourself and stumble away from the edge of the bridge. No. You're not going to let them down. Using that stored up adrenaline within you, you push forward with a primal yell, charging straight for the archers. They fire at you, but you ignore the arrows and bolts flying your way. Occasionally one manages to graze you, a scant few even hit you, but you ignore it as best you can. You've got a fight to win.

The first one loses his head. The seconds his arms, then a stab through the chest. The third drops his crossbow as if in surrender, only to be sliced clean in half. You continue on like this, no longer seeing men but instead an army of targets you need to tear down. Half way through these ones, more targets come running down the bridge. You finish off the remaining archers, then ready yourself in preparation for the others.

You're not sure how long the fight lasts. All you know is that by the end of it, you're using your sword to keep yourself standing. The carriage slows to a stop, and Bertrand hops off to help you into the back of the wagon. You're still on edge enough that you snarl at him, like a wild hound defending its territory. He doesn't back off, and soon you're lying on the floor in the back of the wagon.

A woman is there, digging through your supplies and pulling out a roll of bandages. Caroline. She sets to work immediately, pulling out bolts and arrows and wrapping them up as best as she can. Her hands are left bloodied from the work, but in the end you're much better off than you were. She smiles. "You'll get proper healing at Elkstern Keep."

She continues speaking, but the words fade away, and you slip into unconsciousness.
> You continue
When you wake up, it's in a bed. You're covered in bandages, and though your body aches it seems your wounds are gone. There must be a healer here. In the bed to your right, a person stirs, and you shift to get a good look at them. There lays Bertrand, flipping through a leather bound book. "I see you still live, sir," he says, dog-earing the page he's on and closing the book.

"Sorry to disappoint you," you chuckle.

A small laugh escapes Bertrand's lips. "No, sir. I'm happy to see you're still among us." He pauses. "We got here yesterday afternoon, sir. The healer set to work immediately. You'll be okay if you rest for a few days."

"That so? Where's Caroline?"

"She's still here, sir. Likely in her chambers. She said she'd come visit later."

"Alright." You sigh and close your eyes. You made it to Elkstern Keep, and you and Bertrand are still relatively intact.

You consider what you should do now. You'll be extremely late for your meeting at Castle Oren. The King may not like it, but if he truly needed you, he'd excuse it. Still, something about this... Felt better than fighting some meaningless war you have no investment in. Maybe...

You must have been thinking for much longer than you thought you were, as Caroline steps into the infirmary and immediately gives Bertrand a bear hug. Your servant pats her slowly on the back, and she breaks away after a moment to move onto you. The hug is so tight, it makes the aching turn into a sharp sting, and you hiss in pain. Caroline withdraws.

"I'm so glad you two are alright. Thank you for all that you've done for me, I can't repay you," she says.

You wave your hand and shake your hand. "No, no, everything is fine. Just letting us rest here a few days is good enough."

She gives a worried look. "Are you sure? I can give you supplies, or money, or..."

"Nothing. It's fine. Thanks for visiting us."

Caroline nods. The three of you talk for a while, though it's mostly her thanking you profusely and continually offering help, which you turn down. After about an hour, a man comes in and informs her that she's needed in the entrance hall. Caroline sighs, but nods at the man.

Before she leaves, she turns to you and Bertrand one last time. "I know I've been saying it a lot, but thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you hadn't saved me and escorted me here, I don't know what I'd have done." With those words, she departs.

After she leaves, you once again wonder what you'll do now.
> You maybe you can keep helping people. Damn the King and his war, you'll help people in other ways.
Yes. You can keep helping people. That's what you should do, what your friends would have wanted you to do. It's what the hero you used to be would have done in this situation. As much as you've tried to drown that boy with alcohol, you know that deep down he's still in there. Maybe, it's time to let him back out.

You voice your thoughts to Bertrand. "Damn the King's summons. After all this, I think I want to keep helping people. Will I have you by my side, Bertrand?"

Your servant smiles at that. "Of course, sir. I was hoping you'd say that."

You nod your head a few times. "Okay. Okay."

For now, you have a few days to rest. When you're done, you'll leave Elkstern Keep, and set out to right any wrongs you find. After all, that's what a hero does.

The sun is high in the sky. It's a new beginning.

THE END


When you wake up, it's in a bed. You're covered in bandages, and though your body aches it seems your wounds are gone. There must be a healer here. In the bed to your right, a person stirs, and you shift to get a good look at them. There lays Bertrand, flipping through a leather bound book. "I see you still live, sir," he says, dog-earing the page he's on and closing the book.

"Sorry to disappoint you," you chuckle.

A small laugh escapes Bertrand's lips. "No, sir. I'm happy to see you're still among us." He pauses. "We got here yesterday afternoon, sir. The healer set to work immediately. You'll be okay if you rest for a few days."

"That so? Where's Caroline?"

"She's still here, sir. Likely in her chambers. She said she'd come visit later."

"Alright." You sigh and close your eyes. You made it to Elkstern Keep, and you and Bertrand are still relatively intact.

You consider what you should do now. You'll be extremely late for your meeting at Castle Oren. The King may not like it, but if he truly needed you, he'd excuse it. Still, something about this... Felt better than fighting some meaningless war you have no investment in. Maybe...

You must have been thinking for much longer than you thought you were, as Caroline steps into the infirmary and immediately gives Bertrand a bear hug. Your servant pats her slowly on the back, and she breaks away after a moment to move onto you. The hug is so tight, it makes the aching turn into a sharp sting, and you hiss in pain. Caroline withdraws.

"I'm so glad you two are alright. Thank you for all that you've done for me, I can't repay you," she says.

You wave your hand and shake your hand. "No, no, everything is fine. Just letting us rest here a few days is good enough."

She gives a worried look. "Are you sure? I can give you supplies, or money, or..."

"Nothing. It's fine. Thanks for visiting us."

Caroline nods. The three of you talk for a while, though it's mostly her thanking you profusely and continually offering help, which you turn down. After about an hour, a man comes in and informs her that she's needed in the entrance hall. Caroline sighs, but nods at the man.

Before she leaves, she turns to you and Bertrand one last time. "I know I've been saying it a lot, but thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you hadn't saved me and escorted me here, I don't know what I'd have done." With those words, she departs.

After she leaves, you once again wonder what you'll do now.
> You your plans remain the same. You'll head straight for Castle Oren. You're sure the King needs you, and won't mind.
Yes. The King summoned you, and you won't ignore those summons. Being a wandering hero is appealing, but this way you can help the kingdom in a much more substantial way. Winning a war? You'd save the kingdom, and drive the Kishak menace away from it. You'd be a hero yet again.

You voice your thoughts to Bertrand. "Our plan remains the same: we'll head straight for Castle Oren when we recover. Will I have you at my side, Bertrand."

Bertrand nods. "Of course, sir. We'll get there and finish this war."

You nod your head a few times. "Okay. Okay."

For now, you have a few days to rest. When you're done, you'll leave Elkstern Keep, and head straight for Castle Oren. After all, you have a duty, and you must see it through.

The sun is high in the sky. It's a new beginning.

THE END


The next day of your trip goes by quietly. There's nothing but the open road ahead of you. Any travelers pass you by without a second thought, and aside from Bertrand and Caroline you haven't interacted with anyone since the highwaymen. It's peaceful, almost too peaceful; usually it means something will happen, and it comes when you least expect it. Of course, your gut is right on this one.

On the third day of traveling, just a day or so away from Elkstern Keep, you come across a bridge and force Bertrand to stop. The bridge is large, wide enough to fit three carriages side by side and about half a mile long. It stretches over a canyon, a long drop into a rapid river below. You see men in ragged clothing milling about; they haven't seen you yet, but if you move forward they will. By their looks, they won't be too friendly.

If you tried to go around, you'd lose a day of time. Safer, yes, but you really just want this to be over and done with. The bridge is risky but you're sure that you can defend the carriage. You look to Bertrand and nod. "Keep going."

He nods, spurring the horses into gear. "Think we'll run into any opposition, sir?"

"Not sure. Probably, though. Keep that crossbow ready." Bertrand nods and grabs the crossbow with one hand, keeping the other on the reins. The carriage continues on, heading towards the bridge. You draw closer to the men, who turn their heads and finally see you. Quickly, they start moving, grabbing weapons and preparing for you to come by. You notice one poking his head out.

"Take that one out!" you point him out to Bertrand, who shifts the crossbow and fires. The bolt flies true, hitting the man in the forehead. He slumps over, and his companions immediately open fire with a volley of arrows and bolts. You raise the flat of your sword and hold it up, using it as a makeshift shield. You and Bertrand are spared from most of them, but an arrow manages to hit him in the leg.

"Shit!" you shout, then jump off the carriage and begin sprinting towards the men. They shift their focus from the carriage to you, firing more arrows and bolts in your direction. You keep your sword raised to deflect any projectiles coming your way, and through sheer luck, you manage to get to the men with only the faintest of grazes to show for it. They back off and drop their ranged weapons, readying knives and rusty swords.

You swiftly dodge the first swing that comes your way, then back hand the man who attacked. He staggers back with a split lip, and you move in fast by smashing his face with the pommel of your sword. He falls to the ground, dropping his sword and clutching at his broken nose. You don't have time to finish him off, as another blade comes your way, then another, and another. Raising your blade, you deflect most of the blows and dodge others. However, one of the bridge men gets a lucky hit through, cutting your side. You hiss in pain but push on.

Quickly jumping back, you assess the situation. There's still more down the way, keeping crossbows and longbows at the ready, while there's a group of about six heading right for you. They're all clustered up close, as though they believe that will make it harder for you. If anything, it'll make it easier.

You rear your sword back, waiting for them to get close enough...

Then swing.

The massive blade cuts through three before it gets stuck in the ribcage of the fourth one. The three you managed to hit fall to the floor in pieces, flecks of blood spraying onto you and their remaining allies. You pull your sword out of the fourth man, who falls to his knees and screams in agony for his mother, before swinging yet again. His cries are cut off as the blade cuts through his skull, and out the other side to take down the remaining two.

You pant, catching your breath. You don't have long though, as a bolt flies true and lands in your shoulder. You stumble back with a curse, and nearly fall into the canyon were it not for the rail you grabbed onto. A horn pierces the quiet of the bridge, and you know what it means: they're calling for reinforcements. You're not sure if you can take on these men, let alone more.

The river is seeming awfully tempting. Maybe you can survive the fall and be carried away to some place safer...
> You they're on their own. You're getting out of here, while you still can.
This is too much, even for you. Hell, for all you know, the archers down the bridge have already taken out Bertrand and you're just defending a corpse. The only way you're going to survive this is if you give into your fight or flight instincts; right now, your entire body is screaming flight. Taking in a deep breath and mumbling a quick prayer to whatever god will hear it, you jump off the bridge into the river below.

The water is freezing, you note, and pushing you at a breakneck speed. Occasionally you bump into a rock and feel as though you're about to lose consciousness, but the fear of drowning keeps you awake as you struggle to keep your head above the surface. By the time you wind up on land, it feels as though you've been at this for hours, when really it's only been a few minutes at most.

You crawl on hands and knees away from the river, heaving up water and bits of your breakfast on the gravel. Pushing forward, you note that you're in a forest of snow covered pine trees, despite it only just being fall. Then again, you've been heading towards a much colder climate, so this is to be expected. Shivering, you push yourself up on the ground and hook your sword onto your back. There has to be some sort of shelter around here.

Your walk through the forest lasts most of the day, and by nightfall you're sure you'll freeze to death out here. However, luck is on your side; you spot a faint glow not far from you, and push towards it. What you see is a cabin, light from a lantern pouring out of it... The problem, however, is the spikes planted into the ground with heads stuck through them. Whatever this is, it's bad news.

You consider your options: freeze to death out here, or take your chances fighting whoever is in there.
> You need warmth. You'll kill whoever is in there, and feel no guilt over it. Whoever's in there is a monster.
You unhook your blade and stalk towards the cabin, ready to swing at the slightest twitch of movement. Pushing the door open, you step inside with sword at the ready. You find a single man there, clothes ragged and dirty with unkempt hair and beard. In his hands is a single human arm, a woman's by the looks of it. He turns to look at you, and gives you a blank stare.

Then, a blood-tinged smile.

You swing your sword, splitting his skull open like an overripe watermelon. Pulling the sword out of his corpse, you swing again. Then again. And again. And again. And again. You keep swinging until there's nothing left to hit. Even then you keep at it, busting up the bloodied floorboards and reducing the mush that's left of him to bloody stains. Finally, you drop your sword and collapse. The exhaustion overtakes you, and you fall into a sleep before you even realize it.

When you wake in the morning, you feel warmed up after the night in the cavern. You quickly dig through any containers you find. There's not much, but there is a spare set of the cannibal's clothes. It looks like it's just about your size, and made of animal hides. Good enough in this climate. You remove your soaked clothing slide into the outfit, making sure it fits.

With nothing left to do, you set out from the cabin and into the forest. There has to be a town somewhere.

THE END


This is too much, even for you. Hell, for all you know, the archers down the bridge have already taken out Bertrand and you're just defending a corpse. The only way you're going to survive this is if you give into your fight or flight instincts; right now, your entire body is screaming flight. Taking in a deep breath and mumbling a quick prayer to whatever god will hear it, you jump off the bridge into the river below.

The water is freezing, you note, and pushing you at a breakneck speed. Occasionally you bump into a rock and feel as though you're about to lose consciousness, but the fear of drowning keeps you awake as you struggle to keep your head above the surface. By the time you wind up on land, it feels as though you've been at this for hours, when really it's only been a few minutes at most.

You crawl on hands and knees away from the river, heaving up water and bits of your breakfast on the gravel. Pushing forward, you note that you're in a forest of snow covered pine trees, despite it only just being fall. Then again, you've been heading towards a much colder climate, so this is to be expected. Shivering, you push yourself up on the ground and hook your sword onto your back. There has to be some sort of shelter around here.

Your walk through the forest lasts most of the day, and by nightfall you're sure you'll freeze to death out here. However, luck is on your side; you spot a faint glow not far from you, and push towards it. What you see is a cabin, light from a lantern pouring out of it... The problem, however, is the spikes planted into the ground with heads stuck through them. Whatever this is, it's bad news.

You consider your options: freeze to death out here, or take your chances fighting whoever is in there.
> You if it's a choice between being gruesomely maimed and killed or slowly freezing to death... You think you'll take the latter.
There's no way you're going in there. You barely have enough strength to walk, let alone fight off whatever bastards are in the cabin. If you're going to die anyway, you figure you're going to do it on your own terms, and walk away from the cabin.

You continue on into the night, feeling the cold wind slowly freeze your soaked clothing. Ice clings to you, and you feel your strength slowly fading. You're not sure how much longer you can keep walking, so you should at least make sure you're comfortable. Slowing down, you set your back against a tree, and slowly slide down into a sitting position.

Your breathing is slowing down.

You can feel your heart beat every couple of seconds.

It's so cold out here.

Maybe you should rest.

You close your eyes.

Yeah, rest sounds good.

THE END


Damn these sick bastards. Robbing and killing the innocent. You jump out of the carriage and begin to chase after them. Faintly, you hear Bertrand yelling at you, but the pounding of your head as a cold rage runs through you blocks out any sounds but the woman's screams. You chase the highwaymen down; it doesn't take long, you find them just as one tackles the noble woman to the ground. The others haven't noticed you yet.

You draw your blade, making sure that the chain keeping it tied to your back clinks loud enough for them to hear. They whip around, glaring at you; their eyes hold a mixture of primal rage and fear. One bares rotting yellow teeth at you, snarling like a dog. You put both hands on your sword, keeping a firm grip on it, waiting for them to make the first move. You don't have to wait long, as Yellow Teeth runs at you screaming, flailing two axes around as though he's a barbarian of the Northern Wildlands. You smoothly sidestep his charge, then bring your sword down at his legs. His upper body is sent flying upwards as your sword slices through his thighs and out the other side.

The other three highwaymen stare at their dying ally, the fear overcoming their rage. You draw your sword back and swing at nothing, the blood flying off. Droplets land on their faces. "Leave the woman alone, or you'll wind up like your friend," you say. To seal your threat, you take a step forward, and they immediately back off and begin running. You draw a dagger from your boot, stabbing it into the dying bandit's throat as you approach the woman to make sure she's okay.

"Hurt?" you ask, kneeling down next to the noble woman as she lays on the ground. She's hyperventiliating, looking around with wild eyes, before turning over and vomiting on the grass. You pat her on the back to help her get it out, then shake your head. "It's normal the first few times something like this happens. Once the adrenaline wears off, you feel sick to your stomach. Get up." You offer a hand, which she accepts.

"T-thank you, sir. I can never repay you. Those... Those thugs attacked my carriage, killed my driver and the stole all my valuables. I... I don't know how I can make it back home." She sighs, shaking her head. "I'll just have to walk, I suppose."

"Where were you going?" you ask, already wishing you hadn't.

"Elkstern Keep. Have you heard of it?"

You have, actually. It was one of the stops on your journey twenty years ago... And is in the opposite direction of Castle Oren, about two hundred miles away in fact. You'd have to arrive much later or even cancel your trip if you were to escort her.
> You you'll just have to wish her luck and give her directions to the nearest town.
You sigh, shaking your head. "Wish I could help you, but I have urgent matters to attend to and Elkstern Keep is too far away. There's a town about ten miles down the road, a few small villages and hamlets along the way. Maybe you can see if a caravan is heading there."

She nods. "Thank you again for saving me, sir. I'll head there now." You walk her to the road, and see her off. Bertrand watches from the driver's seat of the carriage, a loaded crossbow in his hands. After the noble woman is no longer in sight, you climb back up and sit next to Bertrand.

"Shall we go now, sir?"

"Yes. Let's go."

Bertrand spurs the horses into action, and the two of you continue on. You're forced to set up camp for the night along the road, but you can see Castle Oren in the distance. You'll be there not long after you get up in the morning.

Your blade rests in your lap as you clean it with a rag and some water. Bertrand stirs the fire with a stick, then quirks a brow at you. "Why did you agree, sir?"

"Agree to what?" you ask.

"Agree to go to Castle Oren."

You sigh, shrugging your shoulders. "Not entirely sure of that myself. I just figured it was better than wasting away at home." You pause, and trace a finger along the flat of your blade. "... Truth is I feel like I need to prove something to myself. That I still have what it takes."

"Judging by the blood I saw on your blade, you still do."

A mirthless chuckle escapes your lips. "Maybe. Maybe I just got lucky. Sword this size, I could cut a horse in half once I get it going. There's no skill involved when it comes to wielding a blade like this, only blind luck."

Bertrand nods. "I should be turning in now. I suggest you do too." He gets up from the fire and lays down on a blanket he has sprawled out, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep in moments. You watch his sleeping form for a moment, before setting your sword down and laying on your own blanket. Though you toss and turn for a bit, exhaustion takes over and you fall into your first dreamless sleep in years.

In the morning, you and Bertrand pack your things up and begin the last stretch to the Castle.
> You continue
You arrive at Castle Oren around lunch time. The castle is large and imposing, made of stone that has gathered a fair bit of moss over the years. It was built a thousand years before your time, and still stands after all this time with only minor renovations to keep it up. A town surrounds the castle, full of shops and inns and homes and other assorted buildings. People mill about, paying you no mind as the carriage rolls up to the castle gates.

The guards there stand at attention, waiting for you to make a move. A young man in knight's armor approaches your carriage. He takes his helmet off, revealing a youthful yet stern face with sandy blond hair and grey eyes. The knight salutes you. "Sir Kit?" he asks. You nod, and the man smiles. "My name is Sir Miller of the Gold Hawk Knights. Welcome to Castle Oren." He nods at the guards, who open the gates. Your carriage rides through, and Miller follows.

Inside the castle grounds, you park your carriage and climb off. Bertrand stands behind you, while you address Miller. "When can I see the King?" you ask.

"Come along, I'll take you to him." Miller walks away. You follow closely behind, examining the castle grounds. The courtyard leading into the castle is home to many trees and flowers, a few of which you've never even seen. The King's gardeners must take their work very seriously.

You head into the castle proper, in an entrance hall that doubles as a throne room. The King is nowhere in sight, and Miller continues on past the throne and to a door not far from it. As you step into the room, you see a man in fine clothing sitting at a desk. The desk houses a golden crown. The King is around his mid thirties, though the wrinkles in his face and the gray streaking his hair indicates a man at least a decade older.

"Your highness. Sir Kit has arrived," Miller says. The King looks up from his writing at you, and gives a faint smile. He waves Miller off, and the young knight departs from the room. Bertrand follows close behind, assuming the King doesn't want an audience.

"Sir Kit. It is an honor to finally meet you." The King stands from the desk and approaches you. He's only a bit shorter than you, impressive considering your bulky stature, though his posture and build indicates he's never been a fight before. He sticks out a hand for you to shake, which you do.

"The honor is all mine, your highness," you say, though rather half-heartedly.

The King laughs. "Let's skip the formalities. Call me Walter. We're not here to discuss something officially." His face darkens. "I called you here because I need someone to weaken the Kishak Empire, so that my army can strike the final blow against them."

"I see."

"I need someone who doesn't mind getting their hands dirty, Sir Kit. I need a warrior such as you. I take it whatever you face on this mission will be enough for you to handle, and I'll be sending you backup anyhow."

"What's this mission you're sending me on?"

"My spies in Kishak have uncovered the location of the Empire's supply cache: in the heart of their capital city. If you can destroy the supply cache, there goes all of the Kishak army's food, weapons, and gunpowder. They'd be running on what they have left, and soon enough that would run out and my men would be able to drive them back."

"... This sounds like a suicide mission."

The King nods slowly. "Perhaps. But if you manage to see this mission through, the war will be won by next year. Would you not want to see an end to this war that has claimed so many lives? An end to a war your grandfathers would have fought in, and your grandchildren will fight in if it doesn't end?"

You shake your head, chuckling. "You're wrong there. My grandfathers were simple farmers, and I don't have children. This war means nothing to me."

"Maybe it doesn't. But think of the millions of lives that have been lost to it, and the millions of lives you will save by ending it."

You sigh. At the very least, this is something to do.

"Fine. Let's get prepped for this suicide mission."


You shake your head slightly, before shrugging. There's not much you do in your day to day life, and at the very least, this is something. "Bertrand," you say. "Get to packing my things. I'm going to Castle Oren at dawn." Your servant seems very surprised by this, but immediately leaves the room to get a knapsack for you. He comes back not long after and begins packing the essentials: changes of clothes, a tinderbox from your dresser, and lantern oil, along with some of the bread and wine he came to give you.

He nods to you, taking the knapsack. "I'll pack it in your carriage, sir. In the morning we'll go." With those words, he leaves the room. You sigh, before popping open the remaining bottle of wine and beginning your daily routine. By nightfall, not a drop remains of the wine nor a crumb of the bread. The weight of the situation hangs heavily on you: tomorrow, you're going to leave your home for the first time in years to fight a war that isn't yours to fight for a man who will never care for you. It's enough to make you reconsider your plans. Almost.

At least, this is something you can use your talents for. Twenty years and your blade hasn't tasted a drop of blood. You feel as though you're getting rusty, that your time is long past, and it would be best to turn this offer down... No. You need to prove to yourself that you can still do this. Age means nothing for a person with your raw strength and skill, and you could kill four times as many men as a soldier half your age and twice your size. You were always told that you had a warrior's heart. Soon, you shall reaffirm it once and for all.

When the sun dawns on the horizon, you get up and get dressed into practical clothing. Then, you grab your old sword, giving it an experimental swing at the air. It's large, only a bit shorter than your tall frame, and almost as wide as your torso. A greatsword that no man but you could wield. After hooking it onto your back, you head down to where your carriage is stored. Bertrand is already there, waiting for you in the driver's seat. "I packed some of my things as well, sir. Hope you don't mind me coming with you," he says. You nod, getting into the passengers seat. He spurs the horses into action with the reigns, and the two of you begin the ride to Castle Oren.

You pass through a town on the way there and pass by several small hamlets. The sun is high in the sky when you see something on the horizon: a group of men sifting through a broken down carriage on the road. The men are dressed in fur and hides, and have chipped and dented axes at their sides. Highwaymen, bandits who prey on anyone daring to go from one place to another by the main roads. It makes you sick just looking at them. Then, you hear a woman's scream from the carriage. A noble lady in fine clothing runs from the carriage, screaming all the while. The highwaymen chase after her, abandoning the carriage.

You grip your blade...
> You ... Then let it go. Best to get out of here while they're gone.
Your hand falls from your sword. "Let's go, Bertrand. We've got time while they're distracted to beat a hasty retreat."

"But sir," Bertrand begins to interrupt before you silence him by holding up your hand.

"I don't want to hear it. Get going."

Hesitantly, Bertrand nods and spurs the horses on. They walk past the overturned carriage and continue down the road. The woman's screams penetrate the otherwise silent countryside, until they are finally silenced.

Nightfall comes sooner than you'd like. You're forced to set up camp for the night along the road, but you can see Castle Oren in the distance. You'll be there not long after you get up in the morning.

Your blade rests in your lap as you clean it with a rag and some water. Bertrand stirs the fire with a stick, then frowns at you. "We should have helped her."

"Hrm," you hum.

"The man I agreed to work for would have saved her. What the hell even happened to you?"

You sigh, shaking your head. "I don't know. I'm just not that kind of man anymore." You pause, and trace a finger along the flat of your blade. "... Just an old dog called in to do the king's dirty work. Nothing more, nothing less. There's no more heroes in this world Bertrand, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner life gets easier."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

A mirthless chuckle escapes your lips. "Maybe I don't. Can you blame me, though? I'm just a bitter old drunk. It'd be best if you just ignored what I say."

Bertrand sighs. "... I should be turning in now. I suggest you do too." He gets up from the fire and lays down on a blanket he has sprawled out, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep in moments. You watch his sleeping form for a moment, before setting your sword down and laying on your own blanket. Though you toss and turn for a bit, exhaustion takes over and you fall into your first dreamless sleep in years.

In the morning, you and Bertrand pack your things up and begin the last stretch to the Castle.


You have just run your sword through the last of the 6 bandits when you hear a cry for help. You jog over to a large chest. Upon opening it, you find a beautiful girl locked in with a rather large amount of gold.

"You must be Amelia" you say, as you boldly lift her from the chest.

"I am!" she replies breathlessly, "You must have gotten my hidden message! Thank you for rescuing me. The way you challenged all the bandits to a sword fight at the same time was so very heroic!" You lean closer....

You wake up and take in your surroundings, holding a tiny hope that one of your dreams had been reality and not just fantasy. But all you see is your one room hut, mostly empty and worn down.

"Last night it was a dream about escaping from an amazing tower of riddles ruled by an evil magician and today it's a hero rescuing princesses... I must be losing it."  You get out of bed, get dressed and take stock. One bed, a desk with your open pack and a chair by the cooking fire are all the furniture in the room. You slowly re-fill your pack with your cloths and hunting gear. The fire went out during the night leaving the room dank and chilled so, realizing you had no reason left to hang around, you stuff your sleeping sheet into you pack, sling it over your shoulders and head to the door.

Looking out you see the dirt streets and hastily built shacks of the work camp you've been living in the past few months.

Do you:
> You head off to talk to the foreman
You quickly walk through the camp towards the mine, looking in the empty shacks as you pass. Now that the mine is running and producing silver, all the temporary staff brought in to dig out the initial tunnels have been laid off. You were one of the last to go as you were one of the most experienced but tomorrow the shacks would all be torn down and only the huddle of nicer buildings would remain to house the permanent miners and those needed to support them.

You arrive at the entrance to the mine and see the Foreman sending the last of his men inside. He calls you over.

"Well, you've done a good job for us but I can't keep you on our books any longer. The mine's bringing up silver and they've sent down  some official to assess our operation. Sadly, that means he will be checking our payroll so there wont be any room for us to hire out side jobs for a few months."

You knew the job was only temporary so you tell him that it's alright and thank him for keeping you on after most others had been laid off.

He hands you a small purse with your pay.

You start to head off when he calls after you.

 "I heard a rumor that another mine might be opening a few days walk north of here... Can't say if its true or not but there may be a few months worth of work up there if it is."

You wave your thanks and head out of the camp towards the road. It takes just over an hour to reach it so as you walk you think back on your recent dreams. In the tower of riddles you hadn't been much of a traditional sword swinging hero but you had shown great wits and intelligence to escape. In this morning's dream you had been a bold adventurer able to take on 6 ruthless bandits at the same time without breaking a sweat. Comparing it to your own life so far, you think its no wonder you're having escapist dreams.

Your name is "Glor". Your mother once told you that traditionally, babies are named after the first thing a father says when a child is born. (This often causes no end of contrived first exclamations from new fathers) Your own father, upon hearing it was a boy, had strode into the room and started saying "Glory be!" (Obviously thinking Glory was a good manly name) Unfortunately, when he saw what a birthing room was like a few seconds after the deed he only managed, "Glorrr..."  Most couples iron over the small details like this and name the child what the parent 'meant' to say, but your mother had a wicked sense of humor so Glor stuck fast.

You grew up in a small section of the city called the "Old Quarter" near the docks and factories. Your family could only be described as the working poor, the people who do all the dirty and less desirable jobs that keep a city running. Your father worked hard and brought in enough money to keep you all fed, but 4 years after you were born, your mother passed away while giving birth to a stillborn child. Your father still worked but as a broken man and you were mostly brought up by friends and their families around the area. Once you hit your teens, you took any small jobs you could get. Cleaning, hauling, and off-loading ships - no job was too humble or dirty. You spent the rest of your time  hanging round the docks and warehouses chatting to sailors about other cities and lands.

Not that yours is a sob story. Many had it much worse than you in those days. Lack of jobs sent more and more people into the Old Quarter and many families didn't survive their first years there. You had good friends and old family ties that took care of you when you needed, so it wasn't all bad.

Once you were old enough you joined a mining expedition and set off into the hills to make your fortune. Well, to dig holes while other people made their fortunes even bigger, but, it was a wage and a start. You had stayed up North since then, taking mine and farm jobs wherever you could. You claimed you were saving your coin and preparing to head back to the city but the years passed and you stayed, doing manual labor in mines. This latest job had brought you the closest you'd been to the city in years, even if it was still days of hard travel away.

Your thoughts are interrupted as you reach the road. You take a good look around but see no-one in either direction. To the North, the road roughly follows the line of the hills; to the south, it disappears onto the plains, where it turns slowly east  towards the city.

You feel an urge to turn south and see the city again. There's certainly been more mining expeditions sent out recently, so maybe things have improved there. The money you just got paid for the months at the mine would keep you going for at least half a year if you're careful.

On the other hand,  if there is a new mine starting North, a few more well paid months away from the city won't change your situation for the worse. You think to yourself one more mine job without a break between would get enough for a years living when you got back.

Should you make you way back South to the city or try your luck in the mine to the North?
> You head North.
You turn Northward up the road thinking that the rumors of a new mine are too good an opportunity to pass up, and hey, even if it's false you don't mind spending an extra week or two on the road.

You pull out some of your dried meat and start eating as you walk, thinking you should probably set some traps and snares when you make camp that night to stock up some fresh meat. You spend an uneventful day walking North and see no other travellers. An hour or so before dusk you start looking for a place to camp. You can camp on the roadside, head into the trees to the east for cover while you sleep or walk an hour or so to the foothills west and hope for a spring or cave.
> You it would be good to find a cave to sleep in, head West
You walk for an hour west and reach the larger hill. After some searching you find a game trail  that leads to a cave and just have time to build a small fire before night sets in. You didn't find a stream but you're sure you'll come across one tomorrow.

You quickly lay a few snares just out of the reach of the firelight then retreat into the cave for the night.

> You morning on the North road
You thought you had heard some noises during the night but there are no signs of other people in the cave. Sadly, your snares are empty too so it'll be another day of dried meat unless you find a traveller on the road today.

You cover the embers of the fire and walk back to the road. Once you reach it, you see a lot of fresh footprints and realize you must have missed a group that passed during the night. The tracks lead North so you follow them for a short distance on the road before coming across their abandoned camp on the edge of the woods.

A quick look tells you they packed up and started their march North again several hours ago.

> You follow them and try and catch up
You think to yourself that with the rumors of a new mine opening that it might be best to catch this group up and see if they know anything about it. You set off at a fast pace to catch them up.

By mid morning you see a dust cloud ahead of you on the road so you keep your fast pace up till you get close enough to make out the group.

Its getting close to midday before you get close enough to realize who it is your chasing. Its a group of miners! You quickly conclude that they must be the hired hands sent to get the mine up and running so you approach them to see if you can find out more.

As you catch up to the rear of the pack some of them hail you. You respond in kind then fall in beside the rear couple and start chatting. You learn that there are about 50 of them in the group including all the skilled workers the mine needs but that they would be happy to have you along as an unskilled hand. Its not going to be as much money but they tell you that they have sent their mine guards off ahead to make the area ahead safe so there isn't any way to get ahead and get a better job.

> You ask the Foreman to let you sign up as unskilled work and join their group.
You troop into the camp with your new companions and get your first look at your new job site for the next few months. Its a well cleared site around a small mine entrance that couldn't extend more than a few feet into the hill. The guards sent ahead had obviously arrived much earlier than you as the site overseer and his men had readied sheds for your company to sleep in and already had his handful of miners digging and putting up rough timber supports in the mouth of the mine.

You're shown your quarters, a small shed set out much like your last one, bed, desk and fire. You settle in and the next day begin your new job. Since you couldn't get a better position your one of the diggers and carters as the foreman put it. You dig to deepen the mine until your standing in a large pile of dirt, then you or someone else, shovel it into a cart and push it outside to be dumped.
> You after a couple of weeks
After a few weeks of hard labor your not sure whether your regret your choice or not but your certainly keeping very strong and fit from wielding a pick and shovel all day. The mine has been progressing well, the main shaft has been tunneled deep into the hills bedrock and side tunnels are being opened to chase the smaller silver seams your crew uncover in the rock.

You're just taking you latest load of rock out in a cart when the foreman approaches you. "Theres a small job available for you if you want to earn some higher pay than you are at the moment, dangerous though."

"What's the job?"

"One of the main side tunnels has found a rich looking vein we want to open, but the rock around it is cracked and weak. The weak stone should only extend a few feet but we need some volunteers to risk mining through it. The pay is more than double what your getting now."
> You take the risk and the extra money
You take a proper look at the new tunnel you're to help open up. The stone is very weak and cracked. You and the two other workers start mining, carefully removing the weak stone along with the silver ore and painstakingly placing buttresses and supports as often as possible.

A few days pass and your team is making some good headway. One thing you've decided you like about weak stone is that is easy to mine. Half of it just crumbles out of the wall with a single pick blow, That doesn't reassure you about the rest above your head though.

After a week you're taking a rest at the end of your tunnel. You've made several metres into the stone and it looks like you've finally reached the end of the weak stone. Your buttresses held and you've earned some easy coin.

The Overseer told you after you were done with the weak stone that he might be able to get you moved to some logging duty for a week or two if you wanted, same pay but easier work as an additional reward. Starting today they would be felling the trees that grew near the mine to build more supports for the ever growing maze of tunnels.
> You leave the weak tunnel
You start to pick up your gear to exit your tunnel when you feel a slight shaking and see a few small pebbles fall from the tunnel roof.

You feel as if time had slowed around you as you think of the layout of the mine site. Your tunnel had branched far off the main one under the hillside. You can see a small root in the rock wall beside you. Your mind tells you that your seam must have run under the trees behind and to the left of the hill and that they were the obvious choice for the first logging, but all your body is telling you to do is run.

The tunnel is small so you start to run hunched over but as you take your third step you feel a tremor moving up through the tunnel floor.

"They felled the tree right over my tunnel!" you think as a last thump resounds through the walls and the roof of your tunnel crumbles.  Tons of rock pour onto you.

You don't have time to think anything else in your rock tomb.


After a few weeks of hard labor your not sure whether your regret your choice or not but your certainly keeping very strong and fit from wielding a pick and shovel all day. The mine has been progressing well, the main shaft has been tunneled deep into the hills bedrock and side tunnels are being opened to chase the smaller silver seams your crew uncover in the rock.

You're just taking you latest load of rock out in a cart when the foreman approaches you. "Theres a small job available for you if you want to earn some higher pay than you are at the moment, dangerous though."

"What's the job?"

"One of the main side tunnels has found a rich looking vein we want to open, but the rock around it is cracked and weak. The weak stone should only extend a few feet but we need some volunteers to risk mining through it. The pay is more than double what your getting now."
> You its not worth it, keep mining the main tunnel
You don't want to risk a tunnel collapse so you turn down the foreman's offer.

You work solidly for the next few weeks. You occasionally see the Officials from the miners guild and some officers from the army visit and watch them being greeted by the overseer and his daughter in their newly built house. From speaking to the other miners you find out that the overseer is also the owner of the new mine and a few others in the area, he moved from another country then made his way up from miner, to foreman, then staked his own claim after a few years. Now he travels to all his new mines and oversees their construction with his daughter doing his books and his cooking for him. You never hear about his wife.

You think its odd that he gets so many visits, especially from the army but you put them out of your mind as soon as the officials leave- the guild is nothing to do with the hired hands after all, only the owners.

> Months of mining
You've been at the mine nearly three months now, the tunnels are going deep and several promising seams have been opened up, even the weak stoned tunnel is producing well now after a minor cave-in caused by logging right above it.

You know its nearly time for the hired hands to be laid off so you approached the foreman to see what the prospects are. He told you that most of the manual labor would be laid off within the week and sadly that included you, you'd been a good worker but with all the better positions filled he had no choice.
> You finish the week and head South
You get your things in order and even if you didn't make as much as you'd hoped for, you still added a few good weeks living expenses to your purse.

There have been rumors lately of bandit activity on the road south so you talk to the other workers there to see what their plans are. One group is planning to leave on the day they are laid off and make good time down to the city because they want to get back to family there. The other south bound group plans to stay until all the small jobs are finished around the camp for a few extra coins then have a much more leisurely trip with stops off at way houses and farms along the way. The second group will turn up to the city nearly two full weeks after the first but your in no rush yourself.
> You rush back to the city with the first group, you may as well get back there.
You all gathered on the Friday morning by the foreman.

"As you men all know, this mine is now officially up and running so the owner has employed one of the mining guilds to keep her running and turn a profit for him, they bring their own unskilled work as well as the their own guards so you'll all be paid up until today then free to go. You can collect you pay off me this evening or tomorrow morning."  as he turns to leave he pauses and says "Hmm for about 10 of you there could be some small coin in clearing the old shacks and tidying the place up, a few days light work for light pay." then he heads off to oversee the cutting of some wooden struts.

You and your group finish your days work as quickly as possible then a few hours before dark you file up to the foreman and collect your pay, the owner is a generous man and since the build went well he provides you all with some dried meats and provisions for the trip out.

You all head off South into the evening leaving the camp far behind you before stopping. Your days are pretty uneventful with a large group of men around you no bandits make an appearance and you all make very good time to the city, marching most of the days and taking few breaks along the way.
> You rushed arrival
Your group makes it back to the city in what must be only a little short of record time and say your farewells at the gates, most of them running off to see wives or families. You take stock of the area then get yourself through the now alien feeling streets to your old area of the city and are relived to find it almost completely unchanged. You go to an old way house you knew in the hopes that the same owner was still running the place.

As you walk in the door a man behind a bar looks up and stares right at you for a full minute before saying "Well this is some triumphant return, look at the state of.."

Your coin purse drops on the table

"your huge full coin purse" he slowly finishes.

You grin and tell him you'll take his best room for the night and some hot food followed by whatever his best bottle of alcohol is then head upstairs to wash the road off your face. Your Old friend meets you as you come back down and tosses you a key as he lays a large bowl of thick stew on the table alongside a large bottle of mead with two glasses.

"two?" you point out.

"Well its not everyday an old friend comes back into town after years away, so since your now paying for an entire bottle of finest mead reserve I thought I'd close for the evening and join you".

You laugh and join him at the table sharing stories of the years since you grew up in the city together and went separate ways.

Very late the next morning you wander down nursing your head and see your friend behind the bar equally worse for wear. You wander over and take the mug of water he hands you. Over breakfast and a lot more water you tell him your plans now that your back in the city. Your goal had always been to get enough to settle comfortably in or near the Iron district, then as the months went by, maybe get into one of the guilds as a skilled worker or arrange with a company to be a free-lance worker on their books. Your years of experience with all good references would stand you in good stead.

> You decide that even though the rooms and food are basic at best that you'll stay renting from your friend for a few weeks while you check out the city and find a place of your own
After an enjoyable two weeks at the inn you've found yourself a nice place up in the Iron district, Its just a single bedroom with kitchen and small lounge off it but compared to the last few years it seems like a palace. Even better its only a few minutes walk from several of the guild buildings and mining corporation offices so sorting out a job shouldn't be too taxing, after several months rest of course.You let your friend know that you'll be leaving the next day and he just tells you to come down for drinks as often as you like.

That evening you both sit down to share a drink and talk about how to make easy money (your favorite topic since you were 10 and he was 15 working for his dad in this very bar). You glance out the window and comment that its awfully bright out for the time of day when you hear the first screams.

You both rush out to see a massive inferno sweeping through the wooden buildings of the old quarter. You both turn to run but there is a wind coming off the sea pushing the fire on and the old wooden buildings are going up like kindling. In your blind sprint you both almost make it to the walls dividing the city's districts when the flames overtake you and the smoke makes you choke and fall, its not long before you are engulfed entirely in flames.