Gerd, Vince, and Fintan travelled along the main road of Scourden on horseback, a light wind blowing at their backs as they went. The path was beautiful, bright green patches of grass lined either side of the road. Roaming hills were littered with trees to either side you looked. The windy road went down into valleys and up steep hills. The temperatures were cooling off recently, as winter was fast approaching.

It had been a couple of hours of riding with little to talk about between the three men. Vince hated the silence but figured he ought to let the two wiser men be the ones to break the silence if it were to be. The discussion that had ensued, however, had been on where they intended to travel to. Vince had heard Gerd mention they ought to start in Scourden.

"They have multiple kingdoms in their lands, one of which I am quite close with their lord, and I am sure I could convince him to ride and mobilize the first men of this new force."

Fintan and Gerd had agreed that it would be Scourden, and then assuming that worked out, they would reach out to the other members of the Magi Order and build from there."

"The communication channels have been blocked since the temple came down. I have encountered Randor Redcloak once, but he is now in peril at the hands of the impending armies of the south, last I heard. Some of the Magi went rogue after the attack on the temple. I don't know where the other Magi Knights fled to, but there is a way to try to connect via stone transcription."

Vince had no idea whatever stone transcription might be, and he had been tempted to ask. He hadn't been taught much of the magic stuff yet. He had not even seen Fintan perform much magical works himself as of yet. He faintly remembered Fintan saying in one of their first encounters, "Magic can be good. But if you use it for your own desires, the stones will know, and it can corrupt you. It can ruin you."

Vince did not know what that may curtail, but he was certainly curious where the boundary lay. Vine's thoughts wondered far and wide on the long, boring route through the center of Weptswur. His imagination took over, imaging himself in full Magi Knight attire. The sword at his belt. The hilt glowing with the blue stone as he raised the hilt from its scabbard. He imagined slaughtering the enemy with his sword's blade. The ladies would love him for it, and he could have the most beautiful woman in the land. His thoughts turned to fear, what if he did not live to see days where he would take a woman for himself. He could die before then. The Magi Knights were not technically even supposed to have a woman, not ever. It was seen as a distraction.

Vince came to when his horse neighed nervously and became skittish. Vince felt himself almost thrown from his seat as the horse bucked now. Fintan and Gerd were up ahead and paid no mind as they continued on at a trot. Vince's horse stopped and suddenly an arrow skidded right before Vince's face, thudding into the base of a tree on the other side of the path they traversed.

"Fintan! Gerd!" His voice was muffled as he tried to speed up his horse, but it threw him off. His body slammed into the hard, dirt ground. His other two riders were gone down the crest of the hill, his own horse ran after them, leaving Vince alone on the ground. He quickly scurried over to the cover of the trees on the side of the road, another arrow hissing by him, narrowly missing and thudding in the trunk of the tree that he ducked behind. He was bent over, clutching his rib cage which had taken a hard slam as he hit the ground.

His hand went for the hilt of his sword. He peered around the side of the tree to get a scan. On the other side of the road it was also heavily wooded. He did not have time to see the figure who was crouched down in the woods before another arrow missed his face by inches.

Vince grabbed a branch from the ground and nudged it outwards from his position and sure enough, an arrow whizzed into the tree limb.

Gerd and Fintan must have realized what happened because their horses reached the top of the hill as they came sauntering back. Vince saw what was about to happen and acted quickly. The archer realigned to fire towards the men on horseback, but Vince leapt out from behind the tree and made a dash for it. He saw the man now, in a purple cloak. The arrow was nocked and ready, but Vince grabbed a small throwing knife from inside his own cloak and launched it towards the archer as he sprinted towards him. The enemy in the shadows of the woods flicked out a hand and caught the dagger by the hilt, standing from his spot. His crossbow was pointed in one hand towards Fintan and Gerd's direction, and the throwing knife dagger was pointed towards Vince, who had stopped sprinting when he saw that the man had some skill, catching a rapidly throwing knife was no easy task. The man emerged from the shadows. His face had a dreary, droopy look. His eyes appeared tired and his lips sagged. He who spoke to Vince,

"Who are you men? Are you wizard men? Sorcerers?"

"No," began Vince confused, "We are men—"

"—Quiet, Vince, I'll do the talking. We are simply travelling mercenaries looking to do some trading in Scourden. Why don't you lower that weapon while we talk?"

"Possibly. I don't trust men like you. If you're headed to Scourden then you'd have me believe you work for Nightclaw."

"Who is Night claw?" It was Gerd who questioned now.

The man's face seemed to droop even more than it had before now, "He is the necromancer who took over the central Kingdom of Wepstwur. He burned my village to the ground. Ruthless one, he is. He's got some valiant swordsman working for him as well, the like I've never seen before."

"Okay, how about you drop that crossbow so we can talk, eh? Sound like a plan?" Fintan slowly approached towards where the hitman was standing with a calming hand outstretched. Fintan saw his grip tighten and the bolt begin to click. He flung himself down flat to the ground and the arrow went soaring over his head. Vince had predicted the attack and he was already a few feet from the man now, and he swung a wild kick at his hand clutching the throwing knife. It clattered to the ground, but the hitman dropped the crossbow and brought that hand around to clutch Vince's leg. Fintan gave a grunt and a branch of a tree up above broke off the trunk and fell upon the man, knocking him to the ground. Blood oozed from his head where the contact was made, and Fintan brought his knee over his neck to keep him pinned.

"Who are you working for? Speak now or I'll snap your neck and be done with you."

The man was struggling to speak with the pressure on his gullet. "I—worked—for my lord of Tarrymor before he was slain by those wild swordsmen. They're crazy I tell you. They can do things with a sword that not even a Magi Knight could do."

"So, you're telling me that the necromancer Nightclaw has a contingent of swordsman who slaughtered your lord somehow, even with the protection of his sworn guard and never mind the protected walls of Tarrymor?"

Gerd chimed in, "That Kingdom was the strongest of Weptswur. Its walls have never successfully been breached."

Fintan released his grip on the man. He remained motionless, fighting to find his breath. Fintan looked to Vince, "put him out. He won't live much longer anyways."

The sad, droopy eyes met Vince's. Vince grabbed the throwing knife from the ground and brought the blade down on his neck. One clean stab was all it took.

Shortly later, they were on their way. Vince's horse was summoned back by a crisp whistle by Fintan. The wind picked up, and off they went on their way towards the north again.

"Master Fintan, that death was not the Magi way, you shouldn't have had me do that."

"You must become comfortable it; you may be doing a lot of it in the coming times ahead."

"Why don't you just teach me how to give him a painless death?"

"There is no such thing, Vince. Every death hurt something, somewhere."

On and on they rode, the land of Weptswur seemed to stretch on forever. Vince continually scanned either side of the dirt road, half expecting an arrow to whiz by at any second. He thought he heard the angry buzz of an arrow and he turned with heart in mouth, only to find a giant wasp fluttering overhead.

Gerd spoke now, "I am startled by the takeover of Terrymor, if it be true. The age of the necromancers had been far gone. But to hear of another necromancer taking land, that is worrying. There are enough problems in the south to worry about."

"Old friend, you sure do not know much about this very land, even though you yourself lived here for many years now," said Fintan.

"You, of all people, should know how hard it is for message to find me these days. You said yourself, the Magi Order is barely an order now. The temple is destroyed. Members went rogue." Gerd would not take stick from Fintan; he had needed his time off to recuperate after the war of the last kings.

After what felt like ages, they arrived at large plains of nothing but wasteland, stretching for miles and miles as far as the eye could see. The long plains of overgrown grass and weeds signified the hallmark sign that they had arrived in Ulthrak—land of the brutes.

"We will travel as far away from the Ulthraki territories as we can. Traditionally they are not pleasant people to cross. I haven't heard what state their people are in since the war, but I can only imagine they are as wild as ever."

"Who was their king?" asked Vince.

"This land has no king. Only villages and territories and nomadic men. They hunt and travel in packs with their kin. Their families can span to as many as a couple hundred travelling as one pack." It was Gerd now who spoke. Vince didn't like the way Gerd spoke to him. It was as if he was a young child and Gerd had to speak to him as such.

Vince had heard of the Ulthraks. Everyone had. They were loyal to their own kin, but no one else. He had thought there was one true King who held little power, but he figured he must have just heard that somewhere else about some other land. Vince remembered stories of men from Ulthrak who partnered in battle with other nations and armies to form a formidable army. He had also heard of Ulthraki armies that betrayed their partnering army and slaughtered them in a crazy twist. Vince never knew what fairytale was real and what wasn't, but nonetheless it was his last impression of the Ulthraki people.

Sundown came and the inevitable fire seemed all too comfortable to Vince. It had gotten much colder the farther north they travelled. There were no trees in sight in the large plains, nothing to keep the wind off them. The cold air was suffocating, so he was very thankful once Fintan gave him the go ahead to gather twigs and dry grass.

Roasted squirrel and rabbits were the fodder they had picked up along the long road back in Weptswur. It roasted nicely over the fire, and the warm juices were a welcome comfort inside his mouth. Memories of the scenes from earlier crept back into Vince's mind as he watched the flames of the fire thrash around wildly. He had felt fine after he had initially done it, but it was now as he reflected on it that the pit in his stomach formed. He wished Fintan had not allowed him to do it. It did not feel like a clean death, a fair one. He was already down and out. Vince thought back on his family, and he wondered what they might be up to—whether they had given up on finding him yet or not.

"Don't dwell on it, kid."

Vince looked up to see Fintan staring at him from across the fire. Gerd had gone on a walk to gather more twigs and grass for the fire. Vince nodded his head but kept quiet.

"Master, when will you teach me the real stuff? You know, like the ways of a Magi Knight." Vince lowered his gaze towards the fire again.

"You already do know it. You just have to use it."

"But I don't have a stone."

"Well you will need one. Find one." Fintan eyed him down.

"How? They don't just pop out of thin air."

Fintan reached his hand into his cloak and pulled out the stone. Its dim blue light was very dull now, a light ember of light next to the fire. Slowly, the stone began to light up, and soon it was a bright blue hue and the orange of the flickering orange flames seemed dull in contrast.

Fintan tossed it and Vince caught it as if it were fragile. He let its warmth fill his hands.

"What would happen if there were no such thing as the stones? What then?"

"The stone is the key to clean magic. Without it, a Magi cannot perform without grave consequence. The stone absorbs what is called the luminae."

"luminae? What language is that?"

Fintan held out his palms to the warm blaze of the fire now, "It is the language they spoke in Modena in the early days, when the world was still in tight control of the Creator."

"I don't believe in that." Vince's tone had turned stubborn. Fintan noted it and declined to argue.

"In order to become in tune with the stone, you must first learn to believe. It is simply how the stone works. "

"I'm believing right now, and nothing is happening though."

Fintan shook his head, "You are not really believing, you are mocking its power by demanding its obedience to your will."

Vince grew frustrated, as he tended to when things were beyond his understanding, "Listen, Fintan, how can a stupid rock know anything about me or my will of mind. This is stupid!" Vince slammed down the glowing rock into the ground and a shining light exploded from where the rock slammed into the ground. A ringing filled his ears and his head hurt greatly. He scrambled his hands along the dirt to grab the stone as his vision blurred and his head pounded.

After a few moments the ringing and headache subdued enough to the point of sanity. He stumbled towards Fintan, clutching his head and furrowing his dark brows.

"What was that?"

"Do not disrespect your responsibilities."

Vince stumbled again before deciding to just have a seat. Fintan began, "To learn magic, you must learn to channel your will through this stone. It is not any stone, there is a reason many chase its power. If you try to learn the ways of magic without using the stone as a medium, you become guilty of greed and you start to delve into the realm of dark magic. Then you are no different than a sorcerer."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Vince stared at the stone that had sunk into the soft ground. Vince kneeled slowly, a grabbed it with caution again from the ground. His palm felt numbing vibrations coming from the blue rock, its glow flickered dim for half a second.

Vince tossed the stone back to Fintan who tucked it away back into a pocket inside his cloak, back to its home. "Maybe one day this stone will be yours, Vince. Until then, there is much for you to learn."

Eventually Gerd returned from his trip with an armful of twigs and dried leaves. He dropped them down on the ground hurriedly, but before Fintan could complain about dropping them short of the fire, Gerd opened his mouth with a look of panic on his face.

"We must move, now. I am fairly certain my presence was spotted by an Ulthraki native. Surely word has spread to his nomadic tribe and they may be upon us soon. It is not a matchup I would favor for a group of three."

Fintan gathered himself and rose to his feet, "Come, now."

Vince and Gerd asked no questions but followed Fintan. They hopped onto the two horses that were left and galloped away at a fast pace. Vince glanced backwards as they left the spot where the fire was still ablaze, there was nothing to put it out. Vince cringed as he watched the smoke rise above the trees, even in the dark the light of the fire itself illuminated the treetops, making it all the more noticeable.

They traversed past the small groove of trees and suddenly found themselves back into the vast expanse of nothingness but long, dead plains of grass and shrubbery that spanned on for endless miles. The horses cantered at a fast pace, but the sound of thunderous horses behind them became louder. Initially, Fintan soon heard the shout from Vince over the loud hooves of the racing horses, "They're gaining on us. We can't beat them forever."

Fintan reined his horse around in a large U-shape to face the oncoming riders. He cursed his breath when he saw a host of about thirty men, not too far off. They rode massive destriers, much larger than their own. In the dark of the night, their eyes had adjusted enough to see that the horses boasted a beautiful black coat of fur, except for the leading horse which was white as the moon. As the men rode closer, Fintan scanned the men for threats. Most of them held battle axes in their hands, a few chose spears, but the lead seemed to be the only one wielding a sword. The man who rode closest to him carried a large mace with a spiked end.

The wild men of Ulthrakis reined in, encircling the three men now. The lead cantered his horse out to the middle of the wide circle with a smirk on his face. He did not look like the rest of the men. He had an ugly face, much like a sloth, Vince thought silently to himself. The man's hair was cut very straight in a in a longer, scraggly fashion down to the middle of the back of his neck. He was thin, but his posture made him seem bigger than he was.

"What might a Magi Knight be doing in lands like these, travelling in such low numbers? Certainly, he knows what is to come when he crosses these borders, eh?" The Ulthraki's eyes seemed as if they might close at any moment, his eyelids remaining half closed as he spoke with a thick slur. Vince eyed his magnificent white horse. It snorted wildly and Vince could feel its warm breath reach his naked arms.

Vince waited for Gerd or Fintan to speak but neither did. Instead they stood their ground, staring back at the man on the horse across from them.

"No words. Interesting tactic. I know what you are thinking. You could have my head in a second, but what good would that do you? I have thirty men behind me who are starving for blood. I've had them on their best behavior recently, and I'd hate for that to change now, especially with such mission-driven men as yourselves. Magi Knights...I've always had the utmost, erm...how should I phrase this—hatred? Resentment? A couple years ago I would be overjoyed to slice you down here and now, but I think there might be something in this for the both of us. I like to think now. Smart man." The Ulthraki was tapping one finger on the side of his head.

"What would you have in store for us then?" Gerd spoke for the three now, suddenly Vince saw Gerd with much more authority and respect than he had previously. Gerd seemed fearless in the moment.

"I'm glad you asked old man. You clearly pass through these lands to get somewhere in quite the hurry. I will offer ourselves as an escort for you, if you first offer yourselves as helpers to our cause in a dispute of ours with another tribe. It should be no mighty task for a Magi Knight, surely. This would be a routine assignment for your type. And that one there, he looks like a younger one who could use some experience, would I be correct in that assumption, Magi?" The man snarled his stubby nose upwards and let out a snort of amusement at the sight of the young apprentice. Vince wondered if he had always looked as though he was about to fall asleep. Maybe really is just always that tired, he thought.

Fintan looked at Gerd and the two whispered to each other quietly for some time. Vince saw Ulthraki men whisper among themselves and laughing as they stared at Vince, causing Vince to feel all the more insecure.

Vince looked quizzically at his two superiors, praying they would come to a good decision quickly. Saying no would likely mean a fight—there and then—which did not appear favorable for them. However, a Magi Knight never negotiated to the strength of the offeror, at least from what he had learned.

Vince's mouth dropped at the next words of Gerd, "We accept the offer. We offer our hand in settling your dispute with your neighboring tribe."

"Very well, very well. You have chosen wisely. Otherwise, we'd of had your head gone from your body and your meat would make excellent fuel for our destriers." The leader spoke boldly, and his comment was met with laughter from his men.

"By the way, my name is Magnar the Madman. What do you call yourselves?"

"I am Gerd of Weptswur formerly of the Order. These are my companions, Fintan and Vince—Magi Knights in their own right."

Magnar gave a snort of smugness as he glanced around at his riders.

"Anyways, you will be joining in perfect timing, because we attack at sunrise in a few hours. If you even think about fooling me, you'll be seeing the Dokk."

Vince wondered who would be called the Dokk but he soon figured it out when the surrounding Barbarians glanced towards the biggest man of them all on a destrier. He was so big, he made the destrier look small underneath his frame. His back hunched significantly as he sat. His eyes and lips dropped lazily as he slouched but he carried a club in his right hand that was about the width of a man's torso and about eight feet long. The man Dokk let out a roar of anger when he heard his name, lazily raising his club slowly above his head.

The men let out cheers in response as the circle around the Magi Knights dissipated, half going in behind them, and the other half trotted away before them, signaling for them to follow. Magnar the Madman led the way. At least he was headed north, towards our destination anyways, thought Vince.

The group of men left their horses back a way in order to sneak up on foot, as quietly as possible. For attempting to be sneaky, Fintan was appalled at the attempt. Men allowed their axes and clubs to bang loudly against their clunky, wooden shields. Magnar the Madman did not seem to care. They walked along an area of dead grass that was knee height, and at one point during the walk Magnar signaled for them to kneel down and then crawl through the grasses. There was a bit of marsh and soggy mud underfoot, so their elbows and knees became wet in combination with the light winds that were breathing cold air through the land.

The sun was on the verge of coming up, but a darkness still took the plains of Ulthrak, concealing them well. Fintan, Vince, and Gerd obliged to follow Magnar's commands, and it took quite some doing to earn his complete trust but in the end it came down to them giving their word on account of a Magi Knight, which was as good a word as any. Vince hoped Fintan and Gerd had a plan, he wondered if he would even have to kill somebody again all just for a man who they had just met a few hours ago.

Vince did not see the sense in it, but he could only trust in his master. As he crawled through the marsh, barbaric men of the tribe would crawl past him and mutter curses and words of insults at him, many telling him to hurry up. Vince realized he still had his sword on him—something that had been controversial when they had first been seized by the Ulthraki's. Madnar's decision was the one that went however—and he decided to let them keep their blades so that they could fight—otherwise it would have been his bare hands against battle axes—odds that not even Magnar had liked.

The tall marshes came to a halt when the plains finally came upon a steep drop-off, and supposedly down below was the enemy. Vince could see through strands of tall grass blades that tickled his eye. He saw Gerd dragging himself along to his left, on the other side of two gruff Ulthraki men. Vince wondered how committed to the cause Gerd and Fintan would be. In his mind, it made no sense to go out and lay everything on the line for a man who made shallow threats compared to the skill and magic that Fintan possessed. Then again, Fintan could probably use the leverage to his advantage if he did happen to go out there and save Magnar's life.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the air. Men squirmed towards the edge of the cliff, the marsh became less and less as they edged closer to the edge where the grass was shorter, and the ground was rockier and less muddy. Magnar signaled for one of his men to peer down below. He cautiously arose, obeying orders. Crouching just over the grass, he peered downward and the men laying in the grass behind him held their breath. It sure didn't sound like there was any one down below. If there was, they were extremely quiet.

The barbarian who peaked over the edge of the cliff paused for a moment as he looked and frowned. He looked puzzled. Men were desperate to see what he saw, and whispers crept around the group of over thirty men. Magnar shushed the men, but the scout turned back to the men, "There's no one there—", no sooner had the words spilled out of his mouth, blood pooled from his mouth as an arrow buried its way into the back of his neck, protruding through the back of his throat. The arrowhead stuck out of the front of his mouth. He fell flat to the ground and the sound of hissing arrows came flying from down below and arched upwards towards their ground position.

In an instant, Fintan was up from the ground and his hands flailed busily. Rocks and pebbles rose levitating from the cliff's edge where they lay and flew in the air to meet the arrows. The sound of rocks clinging against sharp arrowheads rung in the air, nullifying most of the arrows. None of the arrows found a home this time. Magnar's men jumped to their feet and descended the steep hill towards the enemy. The enemy had concealed themselves up against the base of the cliff edge so that lookout would have had to look straight down to see them.

The enemy had re-aligned themselves now to form a wall, about ten across and four layers deep. Fintan noted their impressive organization for a band of barbarians. Magnar followed his men in a storming charge down a side of the cliff that was much less steep the drop-off perch they had been crawling towards.

"Archers! Take out the archers!" A couple archers stood behind the back line with flimsy bows and wooden shafts with an arrowhead attached. Fintan figured they must have been prisoners to the barbarians as well, their blonde and skimpy appearance looked strikingly like a north man of some sort—perhaps from Fereton, Adrossi, or the neighboring Weptswur.

Fintan knew it would take quite some doing to get to the archers who were guarded heavily in the back. The Magi Knight located Vince quickly, who was staring in awe at the scene of screaming Ulthrakis running down the slope towards the enemy.

"Vince, stay out of this one. This is not your scene, especially without much experience or even a stone. I'll need you here in case I get in trouble. Remember, stay here."

Fintan darted away down the slope towards the onslaught of barbarians. The sound of metal blades slamming into wood filled the air as the clouds covered the rising sun. The lineup of shields blocked out Magnar's men well, with the second layer of shields coming up to stack on the first row of shields, forming a formidable barrier. Two of Magnar's men decided to simply go around the left side of the wall to get behind, but it was a trap, as men were waiting behind to penetrate right through their chest with a spear as they turned the corner.

Wood splintered loudly as a few axe's penetrated the shield wall, bit by bit. The enemy had still not chosen offense. Fintan finally arrived on the scene, blade in hand. There was no way through—yet. He waited behind the first line of attackers, ready for the opportunity to penetrate the wall of shields if a weak spot appeared.

Magnar and one of his best men grabbed spears from two men who were of no use with the weapon and hurled them over enemy lines. One of them found a home as a shield from the second layer went clattering to the ground and the man in the line below him went falling down under the weight of his body. Fintan flung his cloak to the side, removing himself from any loose robe or cloak that may have his elusiveness. It was then that the disciplined defensive act from the enemy dissipated. Fintan hurled himself through the gap in the enemy lines and spun himself around with his blade outstretched, slicing a few of the men in close proximity to him. Chaos ensued, and a barbarian onslaught was on the cards. Magnar screamed a blood curling scream as he battered his way into two men, hacking them down shrewdly. The tall man named Dokk battered his massive club around, hoping for dumb luck that it might strike an opponent. Most men including his own stayed away, leaving him in an empty radius around him of around five feet.

Gerd fought valiantly against an opponent somehow twice his size. Axe went against blade, and Gerd was struggling to keep his ground. He was sent back and back, stroke after stroke. He soon stumbled under the weight of one of the blows before an axe found a home in the back of his head and he fell down upon Gerd. Gerd grimaced under the dead weight of the grizzly barbarian. Magnar the Madman was standing behind the blow, but he only laughed as he saw Gerd struggle under the weight of the freshly fallen corpse.

Rain began to darken the shade of blood that was spilled as the two groups struggled for an advantage. Fintan struggled against the sheer brute force of the slamming axes with his elegant, thin blade. He resorted to his smaller daggers, grabbing one in each hand and relying on sharp movements to get a quick stab in, which proved fruitful against the heavy men.

Time passed and Vince watched from his vantage point. He became sulky. He hated not helping. He began to talk himself into anger, realizing Fintan must have thought him useless, a waste. He was about to prove that wrong. He belonged to the Magi Order now, he should be treated as such. He pulled out his blade and descended the hill. The first thing he saw was a barbarian with one eye receive a blow from a dirk to his one good eye. On his way down he almost took Vince down with him, who had to fling himself out of the way with all the balance he could muster. Shortly after, Vince realized it was a good thing he had come down, because Gerd appeared in trouble. One of the barbarians who guarded Gerd's trapped position was hacked down from behind, going down in a heap with an axe buried halfway through his back.

Vince leapt to the defense of Gerd, swinging his blade wildly through the arm of the perpetrator. His scream sent Vince into a frenzy, stabbing him through the chest and withdrawing his blade. He turned and found himself downing two men who appeared to have the better of a fatigued Magnar. The fighting had mostly subdued and Vince peered around. A few last skirmishes sent the last of the enemy packing, running off to escape death. There were five of them remaining at most, a proper skirmish.

When all was said and done, a bloodied up Magnar approached Vince with a neutral face. Vince stood off defensively, unsure as to what Magnar intended.

"You done well, young man. I appreciate the skills of one who is good with a blade when I see it. Yet, you are not that. You fight like a little boy." Magnar laughed at his own remark hysterically and a few men joined in with him. Vince was furious.

"But hey, young apprentice, I have a task for you. See my man Voragu over there? He's halfway to death, help him get there. Put him out."

Vince looked beyond Magnar to where a man was moaning in agony. His pitiful screams were bone chilling, but Vince's anger at Magnar's comment made it no trouble for him. He was about to swipe his blade down on the man but then he remembered. Fintan had made it clear he was not to even take part in the fighting. He remembered when Fintan had told him it was okay to end the life of that man a few days past during their journey. He had already put a fool to death once, so he did it again.

Later that night they arrived at the base camp of the Ulthraki nomads. Fintan had inevitably seen Vince's actions, and Vince knew a scolding was to come later. If he had to start learning kill at some point, he would rather start now. It was an order, anyways, by Magnar the Madman himself. Although, he knew inside that his behavior would not be pleasing to the Magi Order.

Magnar arrived at the outskirts of camp, and one by one families began pouring out of their tents and huts to come see that the men of the tribe had arrived home safe. Vince was shocked to see how beautiful some of the women were even though the men were grizzly, hairy beasts of men. There were many, many children. Together they gathered, and soon enough Magnar spoke, "We were successful, the threat of Oban's men has diminished. We no longer must fear for the lives of our children and women while the men hunt!"

The families and children all cheered enthusiastically, and they broke out in song in a tongue that Vince did not recognize. After the singing subdued and things were calm, Magnar continued to speak. "I have brought visitors who helped us win and brought the luck of the Creator on their side. Treat them well, especially the young one there, the boy did a heroic deed to ensure I am still here to speak, so make sure he has the proper pleasure gifted to him accordingly."

All the eyes of the women were upon him suddenly, and Vince felt himself go red in the cheeks, feeling very uncomfortable now. He knew Fintan would be fuming, this was the last thing he wanted. Well he should be pissed at Gerd! He almost got killed himself! Maybe he should have been the one watching from the cliff. Why did we even bring him along?

Magnar continued to announce exciting news to the group, some jovial and some serious announcements. Men took to their wives and kids and as the group dissipated, Fintan took Vince aside outside the camp.

"You have to start following my orders. Trust me, it's for the best."

"I can handle myself. You haven't taught me a thing yet."

Fintan shook his head, "Have it your way Vince. You're on your own tonight, but no sleeping around. Tomorrow I'm going to have my end of the bargain with Magnar the Madman. Try not to stir up trouble in the meantime."

Vince walked away and no sooner had he walked into the camp had a woman who had to be at least twice his age took him by the arm to dance with the rest of the Ulthraki's around the fire.

Gerd lay in a tent recovering from the battle. His body had been crushed by the massive oaf who had collapsed on him. Fintan sat beside him in a tent entrusted to them by Magnar.

"Gerd, we must make a decision. Magnar owes us a favor and we have a chance to take something with us from here as we continue north."

"Well, by the looks of it, Vince is going to bring that girl as our reward."

Fintan turned his head toward the tent flaps where he saw Vince outside, dancing with an Ulthraki woman. "I don't know if he'll make it as my apprentice Gerd, we might have to leave him here," joked Fintan.

"That's why you brought me along. It's time for him to go."