Ashur had been given an ample amount of time to look around the village to have a basic layout of it because this is where he was going to base most of his operations from for a while yet.

The layout was simple, the village was built circularly with the river running through it. On the one side, the U-shaped marketplace side of things where he was able to see two taverns, a baker, potters, blacksmith and some clothing shops.

On the opposite side of the village was another U-shaped row of buildings with a row of houses alongside the river, thus completing the circle. This one held the council building, bank, a fletcher, a small guild building and then most of the other housing which it hadn’t taken Ashur much time to walk through. Through a reasonable assumption, around 400 people lived here.

He wanted to see what he could do here first.

Ashur was standing outside the Northern Gate as he had been told to be. The gate only had one guard there and… the man didn’t take his job all too seriously. It was a mid-twenties boy in the same chainmail plate and leather chaps atop his trousers. Only this time, he held a spear in one hand and a dagger at his hip.

‘So, you’re here.’ Rye’s voice called out to Ashur, causing him to turn around. He was going to speak but the Guard had propped himself up from his leaning position to respond, thinking it was him.

‘Yessir.’ He gave a curt response, shaping himself up to the man’s stern words.

‘Not you.’ Rye responded, you could hear the man’s disappointment the guard was drawing breath. The guard would just look sheepish

‘Our task is to navigate through Leatwood, checking the grounds, killing anything straying too far from their home.’ Rye said simply. He looked to the side and out of the gate into the outside world, not paying Ashur much mind.

‘Sounds easy enough.’ Ashur would say, welcoming the apparently challenging task.

The two guards would introduce themselves with a grunt - while the other met him with open hostility

‘Ya’lright. Why have we got one of these inbreds?’ One of them said. His voice gave him away instantly as a man of manual labour, he wasn’t upper class and had a way about him. Mostly it was his smile, lacking a few teeth from what Ashur could only see on the first impression. 'Your parents went and fucked a shedskin? Gods, you poor fucker.'

Ashur should have felt like he should have been offended... and was confused at how to feel about it. But aggravation wore over first - and in his confusion, the captain would slap the back of their head. 'Get your head screwed on straight.' But - he didn't seem to disregard the opinion enough.

It appeared they didn’t have anything else to say. Ashur felt out of place.

'Uh...' Ashur prepared a rebuttal.

‘Ok. Are we ready?’ Rye said. Ashur had a feeling the man kept a tight enough grip on his men that they would be adequately equipped for the event. It sounded like it was more for him.

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The guard would salute them as they left through the village. The sound of their boots crunching against the hard earth would give Ashur Goosebumps. Easily mistaken for the lust of adventure: nobody paid him two minds, and cared just as little as he thought, save for those few reserved.

As they began walking Rye had taken the vanguard by himself, followed by the two guards’ side by side and then Ashur at the back.

‘Did you pay Tulio?’ The first guard said to the other.

‘Of course. Every time.’ The second guard elbowed the man lightly in the ribs. Ashur was walking back from behind them, trying to get a bit more information. They were about to go through a small wood with spaced trees of pine and ash - smelled absolutely beautiful.

The first guard would look back at Ashur with a look that mixed disappointment and frustration, he would perform a religious gesture with his hand- placing his index finger and pinkie to his forehead and then showing his open palm to the world in front of him.

‘Tulio is the God of Fertility and Growth. Algernon is rumoured to be his domain and all plant life, every animal that grazes, every person that walks upon his dirt is there by his grace.’ The man was happy to explain but Ashur noted the dull response in his tone; he had explained it a few times before so much so that even his response was lack lustre.

‘Yeh. You pay a toll of sacrifice, generally coin, to travel safely within his domain. I’m Quinn if you wanna buy me a drink.’ The man flashed a grin that would bare a few missing teeth among his discoloured front set, his face was gaunt. He looked more like a bandit with a scar going across his face and dirty looking appearance. Ashur had called it earlier.

'Doubt it.' The cheek of the man! His own teeth grit, ready to face some in game consequences.

‘I’m Oren.’ Oren said, the first one. He was more reasonable – he was shorter and more uniformed than the three other men. He had a bow around his back and was quieter. He had his hands in his pockets, being dry and drab since he’d done this so many times before.

Their walking had quite quickly taken them into nature, following along the river – it would split away to the right and towards the east. They would find themselves bending away from it, and the canopy of trees they found themselves underneath unearthed themselves to see an open blue sky yet again. Ashur took a breath in of the fresh air. There were now fields of yellow: it looked like farmland. There were people working away in the fields, and some of it looked like rape. Another was a field of wheat, the staple crop that Ashur would come to learn about the world.

Ashur was amazed with the world around him. This wasn’t like Los Angeles. The path continued forwards and past the fields but began to snake to the left and out of the way. The forest’s edge was magnificent and made him draw a breath. It smelled so fresh, so alive here.

People were doing their own thing and working away in the fields, cutting away at the crops and working for their incomes. A bit of an unfortunate role to have but in being realistic a village needed a food supply lest they suffer consequences for it whether by gold or by starvation.

Moving past the farmland took them to their first destination which in the near distance was a forest. Only, this one wasn’t like the other they had just gone through: this was… gargantuan. Tree trunks thick as boulders, branches like giants’ arms and roots that would stretch further than the eye could see.

‘Haul some ass.’ Rye would say as he turned back briefly. They didn’t seem as free as he was but snapping the adventurer back to reality. Ashur would give a half jog half canter to get back in line with them, and beside Rye.

‘That’s our destination. The forest of Leatwood.’ Rye would point it out, as if Ashur couldn’t see it. Ashur knew he was just trying to give him some background, but it came across as being doubtful of him.

In the background there were stags: a group of 12 grazing in the grass of the edge of forest.

Someone’s put that there, fucking hell… Ashur was in disbelief that he’d be that suddenly encircled by nature. He would rub against his chin, the gritty and wiry beard catching his attention as one of the senses had replicated him perfectly.

‘Yeah?’ Ashur asked, beckoning the man to continue.