Kenneth
Kiervan Czerich, Schweingott Moore

The sigh of History rises over ruins, not over landscapes, and in the the Melsoh there are few ruins to sigh over, apart from the ever-sinking remains of Schweingott. But those ruins had a strange, haunting beauty, and a sense of timelessness. The remains of a once proud city, now grown weaker, older, and wiser.
For Kiervan, ruins were a beginning. With the debris, you can construct new ideas, or summon old ones from the depths of time. Ruins are symbols of a new dawn.

He spent days like a vagabond, roaming trough the muddy streets and the flooded passages, sometimes climbing all the way up to the spires, where the pauper elites of Schweingott built their lairs.
He ate the food of the Melsi: frog, hog, and boiled rat. He learned their customs: how to praise the animals and weeds of the bogs, and how to read the will of the swamp using the guts of livestock.

Most of it was a farce, of course. Chicanery born of ignorance, of superstition, or both. However, there were also real mages in Scweingott: scarce, and poorly trained, but they existed. To those born with the gift, Kiervan would teach how to enhance their arts, hidden under the guise of his silver mask and the pseudonym of "The Raven Prince", all in exchange for information and rare materials. To the rest of the Melsi, he would become a street performer, advertising Pyotry as "The smartest cat in the wold" And organizing all sorts involving the pet.

Before he realized it, he had spent a week without bathing, maybe for the first time in his life, and was kneeling in false prayer before the Hog altar.A wide grin hid under his tattered hood. He was an educated man, the irony didn't escape him.
Tommie
Sir Bryan Verandus, Schweingott Moore

***CLANK***

Noises of blade clashing could be heard from a distance, along with a few man screaming as they died slowly. Before one of the bandits could utter another word, the knight had sprung from his stance, energy returning to his weary limbs. The lead bandit had no time to react, not expecting his opponent to be so bold in the face of such overwhelming odds. Bryan's sword arm circled in a blur, the blade whistling as it sliced through the air—the guard tried in vain to raise his sword to parry, but his movement was simply too swift like the wind. The Knight's sword hit its mark with unfaltering accuracy, slicing into the bandit's exposed neck—a plume of blood following its impact. The two remaining bandits stood motionless—astonished at the speed of the Knight, and idiotic in the face of such a skilled foe. This delay was their death. Bryan's blade had barely finished its first lethal arc as he raised his left hand, drawing a dagger from his waist as the lethal blade revealed itself.

It pierced the third bandits between the eyes before he could even twitch a muscle in defense.

Bryan didn't do nothing much over the past few days except helping out the villagers nearby Schweingott Moore. Fending off bandits for them as the community was large, but was scattered all over the regions. Of course, Bryan wasn't able to help all of them at the same time for sure. He wasn't a supernatural guy or sort. Just a simple knight-errant who's trying to do some job. He also escorted some merchants sometimes as he met them in some tavern around the city. Of course, with a small fee. That is.

Clearing out a small, but a bandit camp nearby a village. The knight stood among the dead, looking at the corpses among the dusty ground before him as he pity their deaths. *Why bother even do this kind of stuff...* He thought about it, he drew his long sword back to sheath as it made a slowly hissing whisper.

It was stupid to do this kind of stuff, but at the same time, it was a way to make a living as well. *That's just how life works, I guess...* To the knight, it felt meaningless to spent their lifetime on this. He let out a deep sigh afterwards while he brought himself to his knees as he closes the eyes of one of the bandits who lay on the ground. The light of the soul has went out as he saw the eyes of the poor bandit. 

After paying his respects to the deads, Bryan eventually get onto his horse as he took it somewhere not far away the bandit camp as a means for his horse safety. He didn't like bringing horses into battle unless he had to. He wore fully chain mails around him instead of his armor, since he prefered light armor as it gave him the mobility and agility advantages. He did wore cotton shirts and sweatpants beneath his chain mails for sure.

" Hya! " With that being said, Bryan drags the vein of his horse and let out a whip as a means for the horse to run as he heads out toward Schweingott Moore once more. On the way towards the city, the knight thought about what should he do after this. *Perhaps, it's time to return to Ibethiel. Pay a visit to my families at Mormill.* He thought while he kept on riding on his current course toward the refugee city.

He arrived at Dusk, where the sun will be hitting the hay soon. The knight walks along on the road slowly with his horse before the city entrance. Giving a nod to one of the city guards who was guarding it, Bryan made his way inside the city entrance without a problem at all. He trusted the guards at the stables that they will guard his horse well as he pay a small and another extra fee to them just incase if they bargained more. 

Bryan made his way to a tavern nearby, ordering a cup of ale along with a beef stew. He pay a few silver and copper pieces for it. People sometimes randomly sat at his table and ask for his help or sort. Either that, or when he finishes his meal later.
Kenneth
Kiervan Czerich, Schweingott Moore

A dirty pellar sat before the Knight. "It's not good to drink alone," He said.

He reminded him of someone, but he couldn't figure out who. The pellar was a young man, with skin paler than ususal, and an air of concealed sophistication uncommon among the Melsi. His rags carried all sorts of shamanistic talismans and charms: hog teeth, mirror-coins, and brightly-colored severed braids, all tied with string and conch sells.

It wasn't until he opened his mouth again that Verandus could recognize who he was...

"Long time no see, friend."
Tommie
As he took a bite of his meal, the knight was interrupted by someone else nearby. " And, what did you come here for- " He spoke, expecting a merchant since he heard them saying in this kind of tone when they requested help, or a villager at least. Instead, he found himself a young man who wears the look of a hunter or sort sat beside him. He carried sort of things around him, judging from his appearance. 

The knight was confused for a moment to be sure, trying to figure out who it was. It took him a short moment to realized who it was after the man opened his mouth and ranged a familiar voice in his brain. " Kiervan! " He exclaimed, cheerfully and quickly brought up a hand around his neck. He hasn't seen this lad for quite a few days. Bryan thought he had left the city for sometimes after he split out from the group.

" What's you doing here? " The knight asked. He was curious about it.
Kenneth
"I go now by the name of Felix Ravenloft Reed," He said. "The Melsoh has rubbed on me quite quickly I must say. I've been learning the ways of the land."

A black cat popped from behind his shoulder.

"This one still goes by the name Pyotr," He added. "What about you, what brings you here Sir? You look quite troubled."
Tommie
" Right, " He said and grimaced for a moment. He had his attentions back on his meals as he took another bite of it. The rush of its sauce rush into his nose. " Oh, nothing. " He answered to the young lad concerns. " Just been doing some business prior to this fateful encounter." He stated, as he looked at the young man with a smile on his face before he shrugged about it and cut into the meat.
Kenneth
"What kind of buisness? For what I've seen, threre is lots of ways to earn a living in the Melsoh, but to few become rich. And that armor of yours sure comes with it's expenses. Must a high-paying job you must be doing."
Tommie
Upon hearing those words coming out from the young lads mouth, Bryan placed his forks and knife on his plate for a moment. Thinking about a answer for the young lads question, Bryan held a quick but deep breath for a short time. " Well..." He spoke, after decided what he was about to said as he slowly turned to look at the young man. " ..As a knight-errant, most of the works I has done are helping out peoples, such as village across the region... Sometimes, escorting merchants as well." He answered, he looks a bit uncertain if he wanted to continue this or not. 

Althought he's been doing this kind of job for quite some years already, Bryan was deeply saddened over the course of it. That lives was taken because of it. *Life is such a gift from the gods, why waste it meaninglessly?* He thought to himself as he clenches his fist tightly while he held his gaze upon the table for a moment. Thought he wasn't part of any religion or sort, Bryan had his own ideals. 

A time of slience fills between them for a short moment. Bryan, realizing Kiervan was still nearby, quickly snapped back into himself as he turned to him with a smile on his face. But the smile he gave as if it was a hard one to brought up with.
Kenneth
"Felix Reed", the Melsoh

"Escorting caravans, I see. The merchants have been paying you in gold, and you've been paying the bandits in blood."

The barmaid, brough Czerich (or was it Felix Reed now?) a mug filled with some dull looking drink. A traditional cocktail made of rice, one of the few things that grew in the foetid swamps, and spiced with cheap liquor.

"The art of death takes a toll on the mind of righteous men. For others, it becomes addictive. You case seems to be the former." The young man remained silent for a while, as if hesitant of what he was about to say next. "I believe you might be wasting your time here, Sir Bryan. A man cannot stop the sea with his hands, and what we have in Taemar is a rising tide of filth. The unwashed hordes devour each other for breadcrumbs."

_The unwashed hordes..._ it had been a whle since he last used that expression. Considering how quickly he had adapted to the muck of the bogs, it was quite an ironic thing for him to say.

"I've been hearing stories from the refugees, and from those disciples of the raven: tales of an earthquake in Ibethiel. A phantom earthquake, only sensed by some, that happened not long ago. I've also been hearing rumors of the countr recruiting advisors. I figured my knowledge of natural foces could be better put to use there than here. In Schweingott, most of what I make comes from best involving my cat."

Pyotr meowed.

"I believe you mentionned you were from Ibethiel, didn't you?"
Tommie
Sir Bryan Verandus, Schweingnott Moore

Everything from Kiervan was just said was true, and not wrong at all. The Knight couldn't help all of the poor peoples around that was living at here at all. He looked at Kiervan about it and dimly smiled as he turns to his meal. 

Taking one last bite of what is left of the beef stew, Bryan swipes off the bits that was around his mouth with a handkerchief he had from his pocket before grabbing the cup of ale he had order as he drinks a huge chunk of it.

As Kiervan mentioned about him coming from Ibethiel, the knight slowly placed the cup onto the table as this got caught his attention. " Yes..." He gulped before he spoke. "...Is there something you wanted to ask me about regarding about Ibethiel or? " He asked the young man about it. Curiously, since he brought up this topic out of nowhere of a sudden.
Kenneth
"Oh, not much. Just wondering how the country is like, since I've been thinking of travelling there."
Tommie
" Nothing much to be exact, really." He responded, drinking what is left of it before placing the cup back onto the table. *That's... Was great.* He thought and brought upon himself a small smile on his face before he turned to look at the young man. " I guess you can say it's your typical, fancy kingdom again." He answered, and chuckles about it for a moment. It's been sometimes since he has went back.

The knight tried to remember what he could think about Ibethiel. It's own pure lands, the mountains around its borders. He recall it all as he ventured through them. " It's border consisted a range of mountains around it. " The knight pointed out and smiled. It was good to has someone else to share the knowledge of his homeland. " The capital city is known as Hexrakes, and is situated around Ibethiel's western mountain ranges," He pauses for a moment. " During a times of war, the capital city sometimes served as a fortress for it's army." He said, and shrugged afterwards.

" If you walked out of the mountains ranges and reach what is inside of it, flat grassland can be seen lies within it. " He said, trying to do some sign languages as a mean to imagine how does it looks for Kiervan. " That's where most of the farmers lived. The land is very fertile, we were able to grow various vegetables and food because of it. " He stated, and nodded a few times about it. 

As Kiervan also mentioned about traveling, Bryan thought about it for a moment. " You know how to go there, right? " He asked. He was a bit concern about this.
Kenneth
"No," Replied the young man. "I have no idea on how to get there. But you do, don't you? You were born there."

He took a big sip from his mug.

"What do you think? If you plan on going back anytime soon, maybe I could go with you. I've yet to repay you for saving my life a few days ago. Who knows? Perhaps I could be of use."
Tommie
" I am *Born* From that place, I has been planning to head back soon anyways. " He replied back to Kiervan. " And by that, I meant *Tomorrow* Morning." He stated, trying to confirm when he was heading out for Ibethiel. " It's been sometimes since I has returned there." He pointed out and shrugged for a moment.

" I don't mind escorting you anyways, I figured you need a guide for the road to it." He said, as he rubs the back of his hair and smiled. " I've been wandering through these lands for quite some years already. " He pointed out. " I've got all that terrain right here in my head. So, just followed me and you'll be alright. " He said and chuckles about it.
Kenneth
Kiervan Czerich, bogs of taemar

When dawn came, Kiervan was ready.
He had the same mule that Bryan saw back when met his companions, but this time it was loaded with all sorts of trinkets and bohemian drapery.

"What route are we taking?" He asked the Knight.

Kiervan knew Ibethiel was surrounded by mountains, a natural defense against invasions. But he ignored if those mluntains were impassable, or if they were just steep enough to block the march of an army.
Tommie
Sir Bryan Verandus, Bogs of Taemar.

As the two prepared themselves for what is to come, Bryan wore fully in his chain mails along with plated armor on his shoulder. He wore along his capes as well. He was waiting at the Gates at early morning for Kiervan since they planned to head out from that time. As soon as the young man arrived, the duos head out of the city entrance with their horses at ease.

His horses has satchels around it, for the supplies the knight needed on his journey. As the knight take the lead as he led the way throught the bogs by a shorter route as possible. They would soon arrived at Ibethiel borders soon. However, there was a problem. Schweingnott Moore was maybe nearby it's borders, however they were very far away from the Capital City of Ibethiel.

" This is the way in." He stated upon arriving at a narrow entrance of the northern region of the mountains ranges of the Ibethiel borders. " But we're far away from the capital city. It's in the western region of the mountains ranges." He pointed out as he looked back at the young lad who was assumed to be on his left side. " It'll take quite sometimes to get to there somehow since we're standing in the northern region of it right now." He grimaced for a moment, he wasn't sure either brough up a smile upon his face or not.
Kenneth
Kiervan Czerich, mountain border between Ibethiel and Taemar.

"So we're crossing the mountains, eh?"

In times like this, he was thankful to have bought a mule. A horse would not endure a walk trough the white peaks that stood before them unless it was a stallion like Sir Bryan's, and there was no way Kiervan could've ever afforded one of those.

Now it was time to leave Taemar behind.
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The two men began marching uphill. First trough forest then, through rocks. And finally, trough show.


It wouldn't be long until in the heights of the mountains, two travellers and their mounts would fade into the raging ice storm.
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[DEPARTURE FROM TAEMAR]