Prima. King Polmeron's Chambers
Polmeron glanced over several written parchments frantically. He complained and puffed all the way. He was a fat man, already showing white hair. He had a waspy, thin beard and strands of white hair falling from his crown.
Standing silent on the other side of the room, Lambert peered out the window at the sky. He was younger than the king, and at the moment showed far more composure. Lambert was the right hand of the king, and the king who tended to be an impatient, whimsical man often conferred with his old friend and counselor, who now stood silent as Polmeron became more and more exasperated.
"Say something, Lambert!" The King demanded without taking his eyes of the parchments.
"There isn't much to say on the subject, your grace," replied the counselor very calm. "As I explained before, while we believe the piece of land belonged to us before the barbarian invasion, now it has all become fuzzy the closer we get to each kingdom's borders, and not to mention the new territory." He made a slight pause. "It's no longer a matter of who it belonged to, your grace. It's a matter of who makes the strongest claim to it, so as to shy away the other two competitors. Sarte knows this very well."
King Polmeron tossed the parchments aside in frustration. He glared at his calm friend, but his features eased up. He was right. He was often right, and Polmeron knew it. That's why he was his right hand. "I thought you had offered him a sweet deal two years ago, and he had taken it."
Delambert turned to face the king. He was taller, and much leaner. Instead of looking full of life like the king, he looked devoid of it: a bored, tired gaze that carefully measured the world. He was a cunning man, a thinker, a planner and sometimes a deceiver. He handled the court when the king didn't feel like it, he handled the boring ordeals the king didn't want to -which happened to be most-, and he also handled more than the king could account for. Loyal or not, he certainly liked to have things under control with his own bony set of hands.
"Yes," acknowledged Delambert. "I did offer it, and he did take it. Two years have passed, your grace, and despite keeping to my word, Sarte was not very happy with how the arrangement turned out."
Polmeron's took a couple of grapes from a silver plate nearby and ate a few. "What do you mean?" He asked, puzzled.
"There are some things the King is better off not knowing," the king's right hand recited. This was a motto of his, and one he used very often.
"Aye, aye, you always say that. Fine, then. What are we to do? I don't want to risk an all-out war with our neighboring kingdoms."
"No one does, your grace," Delambert stated. "They have to deal with the barbarians first, and though it could be said the Eastern kingdoms are winning the war, there's still much to do, not to mention the toll and resources it takes for this war."
"No, they will certainly not risk it," assured Delambert. "However, your grace, that's not to say they will do anything about it. Tactics have changed."
King Polmeron frowned. "You always talk in enigmatic ways, Delambert. Why can't you say things plainly for your fool of a king to understand? What's this about the tactics changing?"
Delambert cleared his throat. "Because no kingdom can afford to risk an all-out war, they use means to keep their hands clean. They pay mercenaries and assassins, and do damage that isn't as massive. Most of the times, at least. These past two years have given mercenaries and assassins plenty of work, and they still have more to do. Much more." His last two words sounded livelier than the rest of his sentence.
"There are some things the King is better off not knowing," Polmeron repeated. "I will leave it up to you, but do try to keep me up to date on at least some of the events. Sometimes I feel like I'm completely in the dark."
"Very well, your grace."
Outskirts of Barbarian Territory. Northern Part of the Ghostwoods.
A squadron of fifty armored men marched through the woods. They had light, shinning plate armor, helmets, and red capes with a golden emblem of a golden baton, over a green field and a clear, blue sky. Prima's symbol. This was a small unit of the Prima's royal army.
A small group of barbarians were believed to have set camp somewhere around the area. Because it was close to the bordeline of the territory between Prima and Prisa, they had a small group of each kingdom's army deal with the barbarians.
Indeed, far away to the right of Prima's unit, a company of fifty men of Prisa tread carefully in search of the barbarians. They had plate armor as well, but their capes were green, their brown and green emblems of a forest and mountain were not visible, even the one enameled in their shields.
Leading this small unit of Prima was a towering man wielding a wicked axe. He would've fought with his bare hands, but each soldier had to be armed with something. He had requested an axe specially crafted for a man of his size; regular swords seemed puny in his hands, and notably uncomfortable for him.
"Captain Bear! Captain Bear!" A voice called out silently.
Bear. He should've tossed the Pack alias aside, but he had somehow grown fond of it. Not to mention, he did not have a last name, and no soldier would call his captain by his first name. Thus, when he joined the army, he had given his last name as Bear. John Bear. Perhaps a bit awkward, but no one would dare laugh in his face.
"Aye," he replied quietly in a voice befitting his massive size.
The soldier came trotting next to his side, armor clanking all the way. He joined Bear walking at his pace. He looked up. "Our scouts have found the camp, but it was empty. We believe they are laying in wait. They might try to ambush us."
Ambush. The word left a bitter taste in his mouth. If it weren't for an ambush, he wouldn't be here, leading 50 men to danger. He would instead be the one following orders. He felt with his massive hands and arms he could grab any men and squeeze the life out of him, but that wasn't the same for her. Raven always felt like a feather. Even with her slender frame, and feminine shoulders, his brute hands would most likely not be able to hold such a person. He was bigger than her, but her spirit towered over him. He had always felt such. He should've jumped to that crevice, and protect Raven from the fall. He would've likely died in the process, but it was for a worthy cause. He remained pensive for a moment, then snapped out of it, the soldier awaiting a response.
He patted the man on the back, almost making him fall. "Ha, unlikely. The barbarians fight right out in the open, no fancy tricks, no hiding. They don't plan, they just fight."
The soldier fixed his helmet. "What, then?" Questioned the soldier.
Bear gave a massive shrug. "They have most likely moved on, or better..." He grinned. "They spotted us first, and are gathering reinforcements. We'll have one hell of a fight in our hands. Cheer up, lad. We won't be bored."
Or so he said, but he was the one that actually needing cheering up right now. Even after two years, the word 'ambush' triggered a whirlwind of emotions inside of him. He hoped the coming fight would stop him from thinking, even if for a short while. He tried to pushed the memories back, but he couldn't. He wanted the barbarians to attack right now, but they didn't. So he started to recall that fateful event two years ago.
Duke Barbora's Fortress. Outside of Barbora's Manor. Two Years Ago.
The Pack moved in the shadows, through thickets carefully trimmed making paths towards the looming manor. They came from all directions, slowly surrounding the enormous mansion. A figure donned in a cloak black as the night moved in the front. Raven had the cloak's hood on, and her black, long hair flowed out. She stopped, signaling with her fist to those behind her to do the same. She carefully approached them.
"I don't like this," she declared in a soft tone of voice. "No guards, no visible folk. I don't like it at all."
Hedgehog grinned. He always did. "Maybe they are on having a wild orgy? Wait no, we would hear the moans too."
"Change of plans," said Raven oblivious. "We got to find the rest of the Pack. Hedgehog, Bear, split up and try to find the rest before they go in. I'll go and scout up ahead."
"Understood," acknowledged Bear. He left.
"Off to find me an orgy," quipped Hedgehog as he left in the darkness.
Few moments later the Pack had been gathered, even though some had already went in. Everyone waited outside while Raven explored the manor with Kitty. The manor was deserted. No one was there, not even Barbora's servants. Raven and Kitty left, and gathered with the rest of the members ago.
Raven spoke. "This is a trap. We got to get out of here now."
"Trap?" Asked a member of the Pack. "How would they know we were coming?"
"I don't know," confessed Raven. "We'll figure it out later. Let's move out, now."
As if requested by her orders, a fire arrow shot into the sky, signaling the commence of an attack. Everyone stood still. An army marched. They approached, but it wasn't clear from where. It was an ambush.
"Quickly, the other way!" Losing the stealth factor, Raven darted into a sprint, and run the opposite way they have come through.
With an unknown enemy, of unknown numbers, the Pack attempted to flee. One thing was certain: the enemy was prepared. They knew the Pack was there.
Kitty. Mountain Valley of Prisa. Present Time
You come upon a mountain valley in Prisa, bordering the edge of the Ghostwoods (very far from Bear though). As you enter the town you see a racket going on. Several peasents are complaining to a well-dressed man who appears to be the local authority, or at least the owner of this town. If you bother to pay attention, you hear a band of barbarians who had been coming and stealing food for some time now took it too far and actually kidnapped a peasent's daughter. It seems odd to you barbarians would do that, and after hearing an old man saying it's a local brigand of thieves, you realize that's probably it. You have fought with barbarians before, and you know they don't stoop to do petty things like that.
Serpent. Town of Arende. Present Time
The Town of Arende is between Prisa and Prima, south of the Mountain Valley of Prisa. It's a well-known spot for markets, and many people travel here just to trade. The town is full of nobles and rich merchants. It seems that on a particular rich-folk gathering, a wealthy merchant got humiliated by an uptight noble. The merchant hired you to go into the noble's manor, trash his place a bit, and kill a couple of his guards (but not him).
Panther. Town of Arende. Present Time
The market you work on is in Arende. You've kept a low profile, and after these past two years you have heard absolutely nothing about Raven. However, in the past week, there was a rumor that really unsettled you. It seems on a tavern, a group no one has seen before entered, all well armed and looking unfriendly. They say a woman dressed in black, entered in a flash, took out a knife, and killed the five, quickly leaving as she had entered. The rumor is rather vague, but one thing you know for certain: the knife is Raven's trademark weapon. She didn't use swords or shields. People from all over the Eastern kingdom come to Arende, so it would not be rare for someone to request an assassination here. There are guards posted all over the place but still assassination, settling of feuds, and thivery occur very often.
Gecko. Southeastern Ghostwoods
Despite being borderline with barbarian territory, your tutor's hut has been fairly secluded from the world, and your solitary life has indeed been a quiet one these past two years. That's why it came as a suprise to you when two astray soldiers from Prisa found your hut one day. Apparently they lost their way after a very intense battle with a group of barbarians, and someone wound up here.
That night, they camped nearby, even invited you to their campfire. They exchanged battle stories, one in particular standing out for you. It seems their company, a few days ago prior to entering the Ghostwoods, found another unit of soldiers from Prima, heading out to deal with a group of barbarians who was camping near the border. In this unit, the soldier from Precia had heard a very interesting tale about how his friend's commander, a towering man with a wicked axe, had lost his weapon mid-battle and fought with his bare hands, taking down barbarians all the same. The name "Captain Bear" pops up amidst this tale, and with that you're sure they are talking about your old comrade by the same codename. Apparently he was headed somewhere in the northwestern part of the Ghostwoods.
Owl. Millia (capital city of Precia)
A particularly big cargo of books was going to arrive to town a few days ago. It was assaulted, and every single book was stolen by a clever band of ruffians who in the past hid in the mountains near Millia. This was not their first move, but they had been inactive for quite some time after a few of them were caught, and executed in public. The matter was considered closed. Showing their existence again as they willingly left the bandwagon driver alive to tell the tale, you are tasked to investigate on the matter, and help some of the few generals (actually two, with a company no bigger than 25 men each) providing strategic counseling. You're undermanned for one simple reason: Sarte cannot find about it. He cannot know the bandits were not properly dealt with.
Elephant. Millia (capital city of Precia)
It seems that the government figure you are currently serving as a bodyguard was expecting a particular book to arrive in a cargo that was stolen. He is extremely angered about this, and sends you to bring back some information on the possible whereabouts. He tells you there's a small group working on the matter in the library, and he asks you to provide assistance so long as it involves the recovery of the book he was expecting.
Shark. Villabelle
Your travels have led to you Villabelle, a small village in the western coast of the kingdom of Prima. You settled there, and became the village's doctor, instantly earning the respect of its inhabitants. The villagers often incur to you for advice, and generally hold you in high regard.
A wounded man wearing Prima's military attire approaches the village in need of rest. It appears he's a scout, and a company of barbarians who was going to be dealt with was not intercepted in time and is coming this way. He tells you everyone should flee the village, because even though another scout went to inform the Prima party that was going to intercept them, they might not make it to the village in time. And the barbarians are famous for not leaving any survivors. The barbarians are a big company, about 50 or so, and there's so much you can do alone.
Wolf. Edge of the Forest of the Swan
With the Forest of the Swan being near barbarian territory, and the recent group of Prisan soldiers making a temporarily settlement in the woods, and the recent viking raids to the outpost, you have had more in your little two hands than you could handle as far a protecting the animals is concerned.
One night at the edge of the woods you spot an entire fleet of more than 200 viking galleys going south. Vikings are basically barbarians on boat, share the same unintelligible language, are a bit more organized, and have the same thirst for destruction.
Needless to say, swimming to them is pointless, and you cannot deal with 200 barbarians on your own.
Rhino. Manicia
The village you settled in as a blacksmith is Manicia. While it is on the southern edge of Prisa, it is still close to barbarian territory. Although you are mentally prepared to deal with barbarians if it comes to that, between them and you there's now an outpost hid in the forest of Prisan soldiers. Paid by the Prisan king, you and your apprentices have been taking care of their weapons and armor, whenever there was the need. It seems there has been a recent attack on the outpost by vikings, and some soldiers fear they will not hold longer if the attacks keep happening over and over.
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