The news started spreading. The Hero who has kept back the hordes of the northern barbarians for so long, has disappeared. The “civilized” people did not know what to make of it. Could it be that the Hero was finally defeated? Would they be safe now that nothing stood between the conquest of the Tribes and the Kingdom of Araldor? Thankfully, the northern lands were scarcely populated by a few civilized towns here and there, for the cold weather and the rugged lands ill suited for farming were a major problem most people did not wish to face. Add to this the regular raids and the outcome is that only the toughest and most stubborn of people lived in the north. Now, even they were contemplating of moving to southern, and along with it, greener pastures.

As the rumor of the barbarian-slaying hero being defeated was spread around, town walls were strengthened and people no longer dared to go outside these walls after dark hours. Before the Downfall, as people would call the incident of the Hero’s disappearance, the raids only ever came on the fifth day of full moons, as if these fiends were summoned by the waning and waxing of the two moons. In reality, it was just the Tribes’ way of showing that they still existed, as if marking the boundaries of their territories, to prevent others from spreading northward. This is however something few knew or could guess, and is not relevant to the everyday lives of the citizens.

***

Seven years after the Downfall, the northernmost town of Brittlemane is as lively as ever during the day. At night the precautions of closing the town gates and hiding behind the safety of the house walls became an unspoken rule, as the Tribal activity keeps growing and raids are more frequent. That of course does not mean the taverns are not as filled as always, after all, people need their ale and good company. Outside the tavern a young man of average stature is standing around pondering whether or not to enter. His brown hair is brushing against his shoulders and his eyes gleam orange in the light coming from inside the building. Laughter and sounds of merrymaking can be heard even at this late hour, along with the strong scent of grilled food mixed with vomit and sweat.

As he was standing there listening to the sounds from inside, a man with an unkempt beard was thrown out by the bouncers of the place. Clearly drunk, he tried to pick himself up for a few minutes, after which he finally managed to get up and stumble away into one of the dark alleys of the town. The sound of someone throwing up resonated in the overall silence that descends on Brittlemane at night. The young man looked down to where the unsavory customer had lain just a while ago, and saw that the man had dropped a pouch. Seeing how he had absolutely no money, he picked up the leather purse without any hesitation and finally went inside.

Originally he planned to get invited for a drink and try to grab a few bites here and there, but now that he actually had money, albeit acquired at a rather questionable means; he went straight to the bartender to order food. The reason for why he had no money? Well that is quite simple, but this is also a good chance to explain the town rules in the Araldian Kingdom.

[box border=1 cellpadding=0 cellspacing=3 width=80% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]Araldian Town Rules[/pc][/col][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]Ever since the Downfall, nobody leaves or enters settlements during late hours, and all gates must be closed and closely guarded during nighttime.[/pc][/col][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]Entry to settlements during daylight is free for all citizens of the Araldian kingdom; anyone without proper verification has to be thoroughly examined and searched, and must pay a tribute of one-hundred Ordals (Iron coins minted in Araldor).[/pc][/col][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]Anyone without proof of citizenship, from here on out referred to as a Pass, will have to go back to the same town gate through which they entered, and tell the guards their temporary residence.[/pc][/col][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]Anyone who wished to get a job without a Pass (from here on out referred to as Stragglers; unless they have an affiliation with one of the Guilds recognized inside Araldor) will have to go to the town’s Scribe and register for work. They must specify the type of work they wish to do and must pay a fee of thirty Ordals. Should they wish to take up a different job while they are inside an Araldian town, they must note this down with the Scribe, as well as pay an additional five Ordals.[/pc][/col][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]Should a Citizen of a settlement entrust someone without a Pass to some form of work that requires leaving the town, they must buy a temporary pass for their workforce from the town’s Scribe. The amount depends on the times the individual must travel between gates, as one entry would cost 2 Ordals.[/pc][/col][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]Anyone employing someone without a Pass before they have registered for work at the town’s Scribe will be seen as assisting criminal activity, and the citizen will be forcefully detained unless they pay a fine of two-hundred Ordals.[/pc][/col][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]Anyone caught red-handed, or proven of their guilt in a crime will be detained and put behind bars unless they can pay a fine of two-hundred fifty Ordals. Should their crime be severe enough, aside from the increase of the fine, one might be detained nonetheless or even executed.[/pc][/col][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]Stragglers have two warnings, after which they are either judged according to their crimes, or prosecuted and kicked outside of the town walls.[/pc][/col][/box]

Well this seems to be the gist of it, sometimes royal decrees are read out with new orders, but anything not mentioned in these rules are up to how the town guards deal with the situations. Although the young man, who is incidentally called Nirith, has no clue about these town rules and still has not registered, even if he had, nobody actually wants to employ an unknown person to entrust them with their lives. This is of course rather understandable, seeing how the northern tribes are so close that one can ‘piss atop the town walls and drench a barbarian in a golden shower’, or so the saying goes. Distrust for outsiders is high, unless they have been recognized by one of the Guilds.

“Well, what can I get you?” asked the bartender seeing Nirith standing around waiting for his turn.

“Your best meal. Actually, make that three best meals, I am starving.” True to his words Nir’s stomach started rumbling at the thought of being able to eat soon.

“Got a Pass?”

“No, the guard also asked me this question at the gate. He also wanted hundred Ordals from me, but I gave him some furs in exchange and he seemed happy enough. Why?”

“Hah, regretfully the cook does not work at this hour anymore; I can only get you leftovers from the day, for the same price. I live on that myself mind you, so I would be giving up my meal for today. What say you?”

“Alright, get me all of the leftovers, I do not care anymore. I’ll pay for three meals worth if you fill three plates for me.”

“Three “meals” coming right up! That will be ten Ordals.”

Nir counted out the ten iron coins into his palm, the bartender exchanged a few words with one of the serving maids, and she went back towards the kitchen. When she came back, she held three plates full of dried ham, bits of bread and apples, and with a look of pity placed them in front of Nir. Not having noticed the look, Nir quickly scooped up the plates, layered them atop each other and found an empty seat by one of the corners, away from the hearth. Patrons like to gather around the fire during these cold northern nights after all.

Without having to say it, the dried up ham seems to have marks of being munched on, the bread looks dry and it’s probably moldy too; as well as the apple has signs of having an inhabitant, the worm kind. The three plates filled with sad looking food is without a doubt the leftovers the bartender was referring to. As he was munching happily on his “meals” a young woman sat down next to him with a plate of hot soup and freshly baked bread.

“You’re not very smart are you?” was all she remarked as she dipped her bread into the soup and savored the taste.

“Umm, where did you get that? I thought the cook doesn’t work during these late hours anymore. And why would you think I am not smart?" He looked quizzically at the young woman while unconsciously salivating from the warm soup’s delicious smell.

“That bartender played you for a fool, and did it quite well. All you really needed to do is look around; most of the patrons have plates they have just finished eating, in fact some are still eating… How could you fall so easily into that Straggler trap?”

“Well I figured they ordered it before the cook retired for the night. Also this is my first time visiting a town so I thought this was normal. The bartender kindly offered me the leftovers which he would have eaten, so I had to accept. Besides I am incredibly hungry.”

After listening to his explanation she adopted an amazed expression.

“What have you been doing then? Do not tell me you are an outcast from those barbaric tribes, because I won’t believe you. Well, spit it out!”

“It’s true that I used to live further north until a few years ago, but I am not one of them, no. I spent the last few years traveling the wilderness and just living on my own, but then I thought, since I am already free, I would like to have a look at the world. Besides, it’s quite lonely in the woods. Since you already went out of your way to talk to me, I am guessing you would fill me in on what I have been fooled by?”

“I am not sure I quite believe you, with barbaric tribes roaming the lands, looking to snatch up anything and everything that is not nailed down. I hear they would take the nails too if they could. Alright, I’ll fill you in. From your appearance, you could not be anything but a Straggler, one who does not have an officially recognized Pass, nor could you be from one of the Guilds. But just to check he asked if you have a Pass, because it would be troublesome if you did. Since you do not have even that, he confirmed you to be a simple Straggler and decided to cheat you of your money.”

“So does that mean the ten Ordals I paid were entirely too much? I am unfamiliar with prices…”

“Hmph, you could probably have bought everything on your plate fresh and thrice as much from the morning market, had you but waited. And the bartender over there? His plump body can only suggest he eats well every day. At most the food would have gone out the window for the beggars. I wouldn’t even pay one Ordal for this mess.” She pointed disgustedly at the food he was eating. When recognition showed in his eyes and he started to rise, probably to go and complain to the bartender, she pulled on his sleeve.

“Don’t do it. You have already made a deal, and going back on it would only earn you some bumps on your head from those two lumbering bouncers, as well as getting thrown out. As if that wouldn’t be enough, you as a Straggler would be charged for bothering citizens of the town, and would have to pay a fine of fifty Ordals.”

“But he is the one who cheated me! If I explained the situation, I’m sure the guards would…” As he was saying this, she threw her head back and laughed. The patrons of the tavern looked at their corner for a moment after which they went back to telling each other stories over their ales.

“You honestly expect the guards to believe your tale over his? He is a respected member of the town, with a tavern that attracts customers quite often, even if this town is smaller than the big cities over to the south. Brittlemane’s guards would pounce on you the moment they heard you were causing trouble, and nobody would come to the aid of someone who doesn’t even on a Pass.”

“But then why are you telling me all this? If there is no way I can gain back my ten Ordals, then why would you go out of your way? Just to laugh at me? And why couldn’t you testify on my behalf?"

“First of all, I am telling you this for your own benefit. Even if you can’t get your coins back, consider this money spent on learning. It sounds much better if you say you spent ten Ordals on gaining a valuable experience, instead of losing ten Ordals because of being cheated out of your money; wouldn’t you say? And as to why, it’s because I am not a citizen of this town either. I am part of the Merchants’ Guild, and came this far north to trade. I might be able to use my influence as a merchant to help you, but frankly I will not do that for ten Ordals, and I would lose quite a bit of standing here in Brittlemane. This town is especially wary of outsiders, no need to incite them further and make them any harder to deal with than they already are.”

As she was telling him all of this, he was nodding while the gears inside his mind kept working. If what she is telling him is true, and there does not seem to be an ulterior motive for her to deceive him, then he has indeed been made into a fool, and he has no other choice but to live with it. Well it’s not like it was his money to spend to begin with, so it’s not like he lost anything. Thinking that at least he got something to eat, and a warm place to eat it at, he really has no complaints. All the while he learned a valuable lesson about towns and their people. Money well spent in all regards.

As he was considering this, the woman finished her soup and stood up. Where she found the time to eat during all that talking was beyond him.

“Well this was good entertainment for me, I hope you at least learned not to trust everything at face value, or my time here was wasted. Either way I must be retiring now. Of course if you need anything while I am in Brittlemane, look for me here around noon. I’ll be here in town for another week for conducting business, so if you have anything you wish to buy and can’t find on your own, I can probably arrange to get it. Just ask for Alysha, if I am nowhere to be found.”

With that, she tapped him on his shoulder twice and left to return her, now empty, plate. Nir watched her ascend the stairs located near the counter, after which she was lost from his sight, hidden by the walls of the tavern. He also got up after finishing the last bit of the apples, and returned his plates. When he asked for a place to stay for the night the bartender, who seems to be called Harlim, might have decided the little prank he played on poor Nir was a bit too much, so he let him stay at the stables for a mere fifteen Ordals; instead of the usual sixteen, or so he said.

Settling down on one of the haystacks at the stable, which smelled strongly of horses and feces, Nir decided to go to sleep and worry about what to do next later. His lucky find still had three pieces of iron coins, so he still had enough for one meal at least, according to Alysha. He could easily live off of the land outside towns but he originally set out to get to see the world, and for that one needs to enter settlements inhabited by humans. With that lingering in his thoughts, Nir finally entered disturbing dreams of the past.

***

The morning woke him up with the gentle neighing of the donkey next to him. Well, from the way Nir jumped up in surprise I guess you couldn’t call it gentle at all. Either way he got up and decided to clean himself up. After all he had no baths for quite a while now, and apparently the stable boy thought it was funny to decorate Nir’s cheek with a blotch of feces. He was giggling when he saw Nir’s disgruntled face but that didn’t last very long, only until he realized Nir planned to use him as a towel to wipe it off, after which ran away screaming. With waking up to such happy events, he took a bucket and filled it with water from a clear stream that was coming from the walls, the same stream from which the water for the horses came from.

He also found a piece of soap that was placed next to his makeshift haystack bed, probably the courtesy of Harlim the bartender. Maybe he decided that if a man covered with feces and bad smell left from his stables, it would be bad advertisement. Either way he scrubbed himself as much as he could, and somehow or other got rid of the horrid smell, as well as became clean. He didn’t know what to do with the dirty bucket as he didn’t just want to empty its contents on the floor, so he left it in one of the corners as a thank-you gift for the stable boy. After a few sips of water from the stream, he finally walked out into the street which was teeming with Brittlemane’s citizens.

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The morning market was full of life, as he walked through the crowd of people gathered there. He remembered yesterdays’ “blunders” and decided to check the prices. It seems that fresh fish was sold for two Ordals, while you could buy a block of cheese and ham for only one iron coin. Alysha was really speaking the truth when she said Nir could buy about triple the amount of what he got yesterday for ten Ordals and get it fresh. After confirming this, he bought two skewered fish (it’s really one fish, but cut in half and smoked) and a wedge of cheese for breakfast. While he was munching on that he decided to take a closer look at what Brittlemane had to offer.

Brittlemane was not a very large town, being the northernmost point of Araldor. The layout was mostly designed in a way as to be able to repel barbarian raids, with a stone wall encircling the town, and the house roofs were flat to accommodate archers. The houses on the outskirts of the town were especially low; the more one walked to the center of Brittlemane the more the rooftops kept climbing into the sky, with a few gates being placed at certain locations on the streets. This design was very effective if experienced soldiers were manning the walls, as every time the enemy advanced further into town, the defenders could just retreat further behind gates that were otherwise wide open, making a hefty obstacle course for the invaders. Add to this how the rooftops kept rising higher and higher so that archers would have the high ground no matter how far the enemy managed to advance, and it all equated to giving home ground advantage.

Disregarding the layout of the town, the important buildings and the wealthier the individual or family, the more to the center of the town they had their residence. This is of course because in theory, the safest place to be is at the center when the raiders come, with the poor being the vanguard. Not knowing this at the time, Nir tried to enter through the gates that were leading to the center, which was guarded by the Town’s Watch, militia entasked with protecting the passage from both Raiders and Stragglers. A man in a chainmail coif raised his spear.

“Halt! I have not seen you here before. Do you have a Pass?”

“A good day to you too! Regrettably I do not have a Pass, but I was already checked at the Western Gate, so there should be no problems.” Nir said this with full confidence, and the man with the spear lost a bit of his steady demeanor. He looked at his superior next to him to see what his reaction is. A new recruit being shaken in his duties due to lack of knowledge on what their work still entails, quite a common spectacle. Luckily for him the senior knew his duty well.

“No Pass, means no pass. Sorry chum but I will have you stand back. Don’t want you blocking up the road now.”

This was the way how Nir was guided back to the town’s outer markets. He scratched his head in confusion and decided to try again at a different gate. The streets were well designed, so he could easily find his way around, but the only other gate leading to the Center of the town was on the southern side. It seems the design of the gates themselves were a means to halt the raiders’ advance. To enter town, other than climbing the wall which is no small feat, is to enter through the two gates. They can be found on the eastern and western sides of the wall. Next, a series of gates block the streets as you go inwards, and end in a wall higher than the one encircling the town. This inner-wall also has two gates, but they are faced on the northern and southern sides of the wall, to break continuity, should the enemy make it this far.

Unfortunately the Town’s Watch on the southern side was not any friendlier to Nir, so he was forced to go back to Harlim’s tavern, since it was close to noon and he wanted to meet Alysha. While he was looking for the tavern, he kept on sightseeing, as anything he saw was still new and interesting for him. Apparently it was part of the custom to have the Crafting professions be next to each other. This way, when a smith would need a chiseled wooden handle for making a frying pan, or a leatherworker would need his tools repaired, they could do it in relative proximity. This also allowed them to serve their customers while waiting, and the customers would also have to pass by other shops when they needed something specific, and would often result in them buying a new pair of boots or a replacement chair. Well, that was the concept anyway.

As he was looking around he finally recognized the tavern. He did not much care for it yesterday evening but this time he could clearly see the sign reading “Honest Rest”.

“Nothing honest about it, if you ask me…”

With such merry thoughts, Nir entered the tavern. As soon as he stepped in, Harlim gave a toothy smile.

“Would you like anything to eat? The cook’s working this time so you can enjoy fresh meals!”

It seems no matter how much of a crook Harlim was, he knew exactly where to draw the line with his customers. Knowing he could not fool Nir anymore with meal, he contended himself with his fond memories of yesterday evening. A true businessman, Harlim was.

“Thanks but I just ate. For three Ordals, it sure was delicious.” As he said this he looked around and found Alysha sitting at a table near the hearth, reading a book. Nir made his way towards her, accompanied by the jolly laugh of Harlim, probably at his remark. After pulling up a chair next to her he sat down and waited for her to notice him. While he was waiting he licked his lips as he was looking at the ale mug next to her. Thinking back now, he really should have drunk more than just a few sips from the water in the stables…

Alysha finally put down the book she was reading and turned towards him with a smile. Her dark hair was relatively short for a young woman, with it reaching only just below her shoulder blades, swaying with her movements.

“Ah, you’re the one from yesterday. What can I do for you today? Is there anything you wish to buy?”

“Yes, I was thinking of buying a Pass, since it seems to be needed everywhere I go…”

“A Pass? I do not think you can get a Pass this way. You need to go through the proper route, registering with the Kingdom’s Scholars’ Guild. I am afraid without that, you do not have a chance of getting one; legally that is.”

“Are you saying that you are unable to get one, as a merchant?”

“What I am saying, is that I am not willing to participate in activities that might worsen my relationship with the Araldian Kingdom. If you just told me why you needed a Pass, I am sure I can arrange something. If you just wish to get an item from the Inner-town, I can easily pass through and get it for you. For a price, that is.”

“Well I am more inconvenienced by not being able to go where I want to, because I do not have a Pass, than anything else really. Is there no way for me other than going to the Scholars’ Guild? I am willing to pay any sum, just name it!”

“Oh? I am sure you could just use that huge sum to travel to the Scholars’ Guild and get your own Pass there. But from the looks of you, I’d say the Ordals you spent yesterday were all you had. How do you propose to pay for my services then, hmm?”

Alysha was no fool, she would have jumped at such an opportunity were Nir dressed as someone befitting his words just now, but since he wore nothing but rags, and he was fine eating leftover scraps yesterday evening, he was most likely someone either very poor, or someone who lived his entire life in a forest cabin hunting in the woods. Most likely it was the latter case, seeing how he was fooled so easily by Harlim. The poor would not waste a single coin on meals that cost so much and didn’t even taste good.

“I am sure you have heard of the Downfall before.”

“Yes, everyone has heard of the Downfall. That troublesome Hero just up and left leaving us with nothing but barbaric raiders popping up out of the ground. The roads are certainly a lot more dangerous for us traveling merchants because of him.”

Nir leaned closer to Alysha and beckoned for her to do the same. When she was in close proximity he whispered into her ear.

“What if I told you I am that Hero?”

As he said this Alysha started laughing maniacally, just like yesterday. It seems Nir has quite the potential to entertain people.

“I knew you were aiming for this, but I’m sorry, I am not that gullible. Maybe this could have worked if your outwards appearance looked a bit more… heroic, and could have fooled a country bumpkin, but these things do not work on me. Besides…”

She picked up the book she was reading, opened it at the middle and shoved it in Nir’s hands. Surprised, Nir couldn’t help his curiosity and started reading.

[box border=1 cellpadding=0 cellspacing=3 width=80% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][col colspan=4 valign=top width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5]Abstract from the Ordilim Time Immemorial, a collected study of the northern barbaric tribes by one Spers Meklur.[/col][/box]

[box border=1 cellpadding=0 cellspacing=3 width=80% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][col colspan=4 valign=top width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5]“The clear chimes of the tolling bells could be heard as the last sleepy rays of sunshine disappeared behind the mountains’, like fingers clawing up towards the heavens, winking the merry lights out of existence. For miles and miles the loud ringing sound resonated with the land, signifying the beginning of a terrible phenomena, as the earth was bloodied by countless souls’ ragged bodies, falling to be trampled upon by their fellows. The screams of the dying as well as the shouts of the living, expressing fear of death and hope of survival filled the silence of the night. Steel clashed with steel, as blows were deflected upon mighty shields, or parried with well-made weapons of war.

The Elders watched the scene on top of the hill, from high-backed chairs near the wooden tower with the bell that recently gone quiet. Their eyes were gleaming in the moonlight, reflecting thoughts of the future, and memories of the past, as they embraced the present. For they knew, the horror that the men down there faced, as surely as one knows the image reflected in a still pond to be one’s own self. For it is a long-lived tradition among the barbaric tribes of the mountains to the far north, to elect the future members who will rule over the tribes in this most bloody ceremony. And just as the fading lights started the event, so did the sun’s warm rays and the excited tolling of the bell approved of those still alive.”

This is indeed a rather fascinating phenomenon, and requires extensive study of the warring barbaric tribes of the north, to fully comprehend the meaning behind their ways of electing their leaders. I myself was fortunate enough to be able to live with them for a decade, albeit more like a slave, than an actual member of their tribe, so that I may gain insight to their ways of life. The people, or maybe I should be calling them lumbering giants for their great stature and well-built physique, are the very definition of fearless. As expected of a barbarian, they value strength greatly, and of course personal deeds carry much weight around here, but what truly intrigues me is how they honor and obey their leaders without question. Well this in itself is nothing new, seeing how the barbaric tribes to the far western plains are no different in this respect, but that the basis of their respect to their leaders comes from a value one would not expect in these courageous people: fear.

This is something on the verge of unfathomable to an outsider, but in truth it makes perfect sense! First, these warrior tribes of the north call themselves the Ordilim, or followers of Ordil, the god of fright and fertility, a god who is shunned outside the circles of women, labeling male followers as cowards. Does this mean they cower behind their walls and live in fear of the world and those around them? It most certainly does not. I would go as far as to state that because they are so fearless, they value the wisdom of those who have known true fear, shaking them to their very bones, because these people are few and far between in their societies. And is it not generally accepted that the less there is of a resource, the more valuable it is? And is it not part of the human nature, that we want most what we least have?

And this is exactly what happened on that day, where the earth was dyed red by the blood of countless Ordilim, selected by the Elders, the leaders of the tribes, selected because they were deemed as worthy candidates to succeed the previous generation. But to be perfectly honest, the ceremony, or battle if you will, is the most unfathomable for me of all. Not because it is most bloody, but because the conductor, if one can name it as such, of the ceremony is but one man. I was told that it was a man, or at least the shape of a man, but I was also told that he has been doing this since the founding of the Odrilim tribes. I asked that, surely, this is not the same man, it must be his successor, but they assured me that it is indeed the same… monster, for the lack of a better word. He is the one who slaughters the Ordilim from sun-down to sun-up, until the bells signify the end of the ceremony, in a most ruthless and twisted form of a children’s game, tag. This monster’s name, baptized by the Ordilim people, is the “Butcher”, and the ceremony takes place at the “Butcher’s Yard”.[/col][/box]

She waited patiently while he was reading, chuckling to herself. When he finished reading Alysha looked at him expectantly with a smirk.

“Well? Are you still keeping up this farce of being the ‘Butcher’?”

“I never liked that name… besides it was a tradition forced upon me. I did not have any say on the matter.”

“Hah, nice try. According to this book, the ‘Butcher’ would have to be a monster of a man, someone who can easily handle the hordes of barbarians that are fighting for their lives. Add to that, this Hero would have to be at least a few hundred years old seeing how Spers Meklur lived and died a long time ago. You don’t look hundreds of years old to me.”

“It’s a hereditary occupation I guess. My father and his father before him had been doing it for a while. Every time it would be along the lines of the Elders coming to us to set a date for the event, and shower us with gifts of food, ale, and anything we wanted. In exchange we were required to kill as many of them as possible, but of course no matter how well we fought there were always those that survived. It’s impossible to kill hundreds of battle hardy men from sunup to sundown no matter how skilled you are. I was fed up with being forced to kill people over and over again so I left. I couldn’t care less what other people think, I just want to see the world with my own eyes.”

As Alysha was listening to this, the smirk slowly faded away and she started pondering. She carefully put her book away stood up and beckoned for Nir to follow her. Nir quickly got up, emptied her mug of ale in two gulps, and did as she asked. As she walked past Harlim she gave him a pleasant smile and started going up the stairs to her room. Naturally Nir followed her. When they entered, she closed the door behind her and made him sit down on a chair.

“Now then. Say that I believe your tale, which I still don’t. What can you offer me in exchange?”

“You said it yourself right? The roads are becoming more dangerous. I could act as your bodyguard until we reach the Scholars’ Guild, and you wouldn’t have to pay me at all. Once I get my Pass we can go our separate ways, but you’d be assured of a safe journey all around and not having to worry about your goods being stolen. All in all I think that’s a pretty favorable deal.”

While she was listening to his idea, she unconsciously nodded. Having a deal where her and her goods’ safety was without a doubt guaranteed on her travels was indeed a good deal. In fact, it was something all merchants would gladly pay a hefty price for. That is, if what he is telling is in fact the truth. It could be he is a fraud, but she had to take a chance nonetheless. A good merchant always looks for good deals, and pays attention to rumors no matter how farfetched they may be.

“Very well. If you can prove to me that you are indeed who you say you are, then we have a deal.”

Nir grinned as he and every object in the room started floating in the air, with him still sitting perfectly still on the chair. As Alysha watched the spectacle her jaw slowly dropped, and a look of disbelief was creeping on her face. Nir was using magic!