Several miles later, the team is well on their way to Checkpoint Rosemont, and have encountered no obstacles or deviations from the route. At the rear of the party are Royd and Kellar, still hauling the massive, headless undead brute with their horses. Its unnaturally thick, heavy body being listlessly dragged across the dirt provides an audible, continuous scraping sound that the two have no doubt grown used to by now. However, the rogue twists his face in disgust at something else entirely.

“Fuckin' hells, the stench.” Kellar groans. “I've never been around an undead long enough to catch whiff after whiff of their disgusting odor until now. It feels like it's all I'm breathin' in.”

“Mind over matter, friend.” Royd tries to offer encouragement. “Every time the bitter scent enters your nostrils, just remind yourself of the generous bonus you'll receive once this big bastard's taken back to Zenith Gate.”

“Trust me, I'm tryin'.” Kellar remarks. He exhales sharply and shakes his head in a small gesture of trying to alleviate the tainted air if only for a second, but it doesn't help much.

“You did well back there, by the way.” The bulky man offers sudden praise. “You barely showed any sort of hesitation when you were needed.”

“I've mentioned before that I'm experienced in fights.” Kellar replies snapily to remove any doubt that he's a coward as opposed to just cautious. “But thanks.”

“Well, I'll admit I didn't really believe you when you said you did mercenary work. I thought that was a load of shite at first. Ha ha!” Royd proudly reveals his initial suspicion of his own teammate with a belly laugh.

“Oh, fuck off, you oaf.” Kellar fires back. “I've come to terms with the fact that I need to go as far north as I can go, despite all sense of self-preservation telling me not to.”

“Aye.” The big man sympathizes in a soft tone. “I might not seem like it, but I'm frightened of what may lie ahead, too. Downright scared shiteless. But I push myself because people depend on me on to do so – both people I know and people I don't.”

“Yeah.” Kellar nods lightly in agreement. “I've come to terms with that, too.” He quietly imagines the faces of people who rely on him back at Evatica.

At the front of the group are Veros and Atticus, the two who led the charge against the necrotic beast they're now bringing with them for a potential future prize.

“I'm glad you're traveling with us.” Veros throws out a sudden compliment. “You're even more dependable in a fight than I had hoped.”

“Thank you.” Atticus responds, but hangs his head slightly. “Though I was close to meeting my maker at the end there. I got too ahead of myself.”

“No need to beat yourself up about it.” The team leader speaks in his usual, matter-of-factly tone to help reassure the black knight. “That fight went about as smoothly as any of us could have hoped, and you're the one who laid out our strategy for it, too. When you started firing off plans of attack, I was the one following your lead.”

The knight quietly stirs in his thoughts for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He wasn't expecting to receive any sort of pep talk today.

“I appreciate your support.” He says, unable to think of a better way to voice his gratitude. “You were an extremely reliable teammate, as well. I noticed you jumped between me and the monster after I had been knocked down.”

“Leftover habit from my days in the Legion, no doubt.” Veros replies with a sad smile.

Atticus doesn't feel particularly surprised by this new information. He had a sneaking suspicion of Veros having possible military experience since the moment they first spoke, but being strangers then, he didn't want to pry, and Veros never brought it up until now.

“So, you were in the Legion?” The knight comments in tone that suggests he guessed it earlier. “You do exude the aura of an officer.”

“Yes, but I retired eight years ago.” The veteran lets out a small sigh as he reminisces of his military days. “I signed up to join as soon as I was of age, and spent eleven years with them.”

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“Eight years ago...” The knight repeats to himself. “Were you part of Yhordran's reinforcement troops in the Kudura war?”

“I was.” Veros answers dejectedly with a small nod. “And as you've deduced, I retired immediately afterward.”

The knight only nods back, deciding against talking about the conflict further. Essentially, the war took place in the southern Rhodanion region of Kudura, and initially started as a civil struggle between divided citizens. However, both sides began to pull in outside assistance, and it eventually grew to affect areas beyond its borders. Yhordran intervened with the intent of mediation, but in reality it was the crown wanting to wantonly throw their weight around. The half-hearted attempt at aiding the Kuduran rebels resulted in great losses for Yhordran, and the remaining numbers retreated before the war ended with a treaty signing and passing of new legislations several months later. Yhordran's uninspired participation in the conflict is a blemish on an otherwise pristine record of victories. Thus, the Kudura war is a sore spot for any veterans who were part of the Legion during that time. It's no wonder Veros retired soon after.

“I used to favorably anticipate a future with the Legion.” Veros continues in a low, grim tone. “But the failure of our involvement with the Kudura war changed all that. I sometimes see others trying to spin it, saying that the treaty was signed soon after we were sent, but anyone with enough insight knows we barely did anything. Our forces ran around like chickens with our heads cut off.”

Signs of deep frustration begin to show on the veteran's face and in his voice, but he pauses and takes a deep breath to get himself under control again.

“Sorry.” Veros apologizes. “Whenever I recall that time, I become so aggravated.”

“I'm sorry for bringing it up.” The knight does what he can to draw his comrade's mind away from grim memories. “Before coming to Yhordran, I had a chance to visit Kudura, specifically Halsani. The new legislations helped the people a lot. You wouldn't be able to tell they had a civil war only several years prior.”

“That's good to hear.” The team leader nods as he begins to calm himself. “I at least had some time to meet with locals there. The rebelling forces were mostly working-class people who just wanted better wages for their back-breaking manual labor – they were practically akin to slaves. It's nice to know things have balanced out a bit since then.”

Another awkward silence befalls them. The knight considers ways of progressing the conversation, but doesn't want to say the wrong thing to a man with clear past traumas.

“I get a sense of military experience from you, as well.” Veros suddenly speaks, ending the silence before the knight has a chance to. “And not just because of that armor.”

“You're not far off.” Atticus answers, remembering that unlike Zyra and Erik, Veros hasn't figured out the knight's origin by just looking at him. “I'm from Threcia. This isn't Threcian military armor, but rather royal guard armor.”

“Royal guard?” The veteran repeats out loud, wide-eyed. “You're saying you were part of the Threcian royal guard? That armor's yours?”

“Yes.” The knight says with a small, slightly reluctant nod. “It's not uncommon for people to initially assume I stole this armor somehow, so I don't blame you if you thought that at first, too. But it is mine.”

“I never thought that you stole it, per se.” Veros clarifies, still in disbelief at the new information about his teammate. “I had just never seen it before. But I remember thinking that it looked very ornate for any random Mistwalker. I recall Kellar trying to pry about it when you first joined us. He said something about how you must be an important person with armor like that. Now I know. But, if you don't mind me asking, why did you leave?”

“I...” Atticus pauses. He knew someone in the party was bound to ask that question sooner or later. He momentarily strains his mind for how to approach the question. “I failed at a very important task. It wasn't a mandatory one, but rather something I took upon myself. I failed and... left.”

“I see.” Veros acknowledges the vague explanation and certainly wishes to know more, but notices the knight's obvious hesitance and decides not to press it. Instead, he seeks common ground with his comrade. “I'm somewhat similar. The failure of Yhordran's involvement in the Kudura war made me disillusioned with the Legion and the crown, but I had more personal reasons for departing the Legion – my own failings.”

Both men fall silent yet again, having thrown themselves at the mercy of their pasts. Before the atmosphere between them grows too grim, Veros speaks up again.

“But the arrival of this mist has made me realize that even though I've left the military and have lost faith in my leaders, I still care about my people.” He gives a strong, reassuring gaze at the knight. “I still have a purpose.”

The veteran faces forward again, leaving the knight to consider his words. Atticus begins, once again, wondering about his purpose since leaving his home. If you were to ask him several months ago, he'd say his purpose died in Threcia. Now, he isn't so sure. He feels as though he's on the path to discovering new meaning, but still can't fathom what it could be, or if it would be as fulfilling as the life he had before. He thinks about his reasons for initially joining the royal guard: the desire to be useful to the royal family, not just out of respect, but to be close to a specific person. Was it selfish of him to accept a role like that for such reasons? Does he want to be a protector? He's gone out of his way to help others in need after his self-exile, but is it something he can dedicate himself to? Perhaps he doesn't have the same altruistic drive as his comrade, Veros.

“I'm not sure what my purpose is.” The knight begins aloud, somberly. “But I hope that when it reveals itself, it is as distinct to me as yours was to you.”

Veros gives an empathetic nod, silently encouraging his companion.