Oh, good stranger, what a way to start our story…

Alwyrn was no robber, whenever he was asked of his profession, he usually described it as “an honest living by dealing with unwanted buggers for a modest payment.” In other words, a sellsword, he was, you may say, or, a cutthroat, if you hail from people with “higher” moral standards.

Being a sellsword was hardly considered a decent job, but if you reside in a world full of tyrants, warlords and other just only comparatively less obnoxious rulers comparing to their worse counterparts, living your life on the edge of a knife would be slightly better than dying in a farm, sweating on lands you own but wouldn’t produce for you.

What? Who am I, you asked? I’m merely another sorry soul dwells in this woeful world. The world has been long forsaken by the gods, we fought in their names in that horrid strife known as “The War of Thousands”, yet in return, we can’t even feed our body under their grace, leave alone our souls.

Anyway, where were we? Oh, the fight with the Brothers in Grey, ah, yes.

The sellsword strolled down the muddy road, it rained annoyingly, the air felt heavy, all he wanted was another inn or tavern, maybe also some whispers, maybe something about one lord was going to fight another.

“Rain…Always raining…It has been raining since like…I don’t know…” Alwyrn complaint to himself, while dragging his legs, he knew not where he was, though he should have, he had spent several hours on the road, of course, that next tavern with a simple sellsword job offered he had wished for, would not be found.

Pulling his legs, persuading them to keep on walking, he started to regret not stripping those dead soldiers’ body for food or coin, no, bloodstained food never tasted good even once, but coin…Well, coins are coins…

The lone man smiled at the thoughts of coins, the warm of them glowing while placed in the light, the sweet and bitter taste of that rust while putting in his mouth.

“Eh…Where the heck am I?” He raised his head, gawking at the unfamiliar locale: marshes randomly placed alongside the stone-fenced road, dense but far from thriving leafy trees occupied the border of his sight.

The road ended with a walled town, its ashen-red walls made it quite eye-catching amongst the less awe-inspiring surroundings. He suddenly started to remember, trails of his whereabouts.

He shouldn’t have taken part in that drinking contest held in Glewyire, otherwise, he wouldn’t take that carriage and being so drunk that he barely noticed he fell out of it in middle of nowhere the day before he ended up stuck with some Brothers of Grey in a roadside tavern.

“It won’t hurt to go inside.” He thought, so down along the road he went.

When he walked closer to the ashen-red walls, he noticed there were some unpleasant ornaments by roadside: A giant monstrous humanoid figure, other than a few impaled with several sticks to a larger and thicker pole; the figure was born with greyish sharp scales as well as snake shaped head; its limbs strong and armed with claws.

“Hydraliscians…” He whispered that noun in spite, he had heard of these creatures, sailors and traveling merchants spoke ill of them, called them robbers and outright monsters.

Alwyrn controlled himself not to notice the fishy blood seeped through the dead creature’s bites, the smell, on the other hand, was totally unbearable, it felt like someone poured a basket of dead fish which has been bathed in sun for days.

Fastened his steps towards the city gate, he was asked to wait in line to enter the city, though he had no idea which city he was going to enter.

“Aye, can one of you fine lads tell me what place is this? ” Our dizzy sellsword turned his help-seeking sight to a couple of farmer-looking young men, but they simply spoke in a tongue he hardly acquainted with.

“Oh, buggers…I can’t even understand’ em.” He covered his forehead with right palm, Alwyrn was not happy about the situation, but there was nothing he could do but wait. He waited for a few minutes but the line remained still.

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As some of you may know, sellswords are not known for their patience, an impression also applied to Alwyrn, who was not only a sellsword but also someone who had been showering in this unstoppable irritating rain.

“Excuse me.” He stepped forward to the spot where the line holds, there stood a towering man whose broad shoulder reminded Alwyrn of armour holder made of wooden sticks, on his back, hanged a majestic greatsword. Beside the young man, a slim, hooded figure leaning to a long mace was trying to calm the broad-shouldered arguer.

“I’m not expecting a kiss from ye, but I do expect a full payment for me labour of hounting that monstrous lizard man, ye haughty spoiled brat!” The tall man was clearly in an ill mood, clutching his armoured fists in front of him, his dark brown hair wavered as he was yelling at a lady, striking an impatient gesture.

“Your labour, brute, has already been properly compensated, 50 silver Corals as we have discussed.” The lady who was arguing with the tall one was obviously highly ranked for other soldiers who shared her pattern of attire stood quietly behind her. ”Begone from my sight, or I will have you removed.”

Noticing the possibility of further dispute, the hooded figure, clearly a man judging from his voice, reached out to his companion, he spoke with an amusing voice:”Please forgive my companion, he’s a reasonable man, it must be this rain that is clouding his mind and makes him grumpy, we will excuse ourselves from your presence now.” His voice seemed to be canned in a jar due to his ridiculous mask, a mask shaped like the beak of a crow.

The lady captain frowned with a scent of unpleasant, her fair brows locked deep while her plumy lips trembling, clearly, she was considering whether she would have these two grabbed and threw them in jail. And that was the moment Alwyrn stepped in.

“Eh…I’m sorry for interrupting whatever scene you people are in, but, you see, your little quarrel is jamming the line.”

Those tightly locked brows of the woman spread, perhaps she realized she might have spent too much time dealing with that broad-shouldered man, she sighed, after an awkward moment of silence, she turned her head to her soldiers:”Throw this man 5 more silver Corals and let them pass.”

Another officer fetched 5 silver coins from his pocket and threw those shiny round bits on the ground, though the towering guy seemed to possess the intention of starting a fight, but before he could open his mouth to unearth his stash of curses, his friend quickly bent down to collect all 5 coins and dragged him all the way across the gate pass.

Alwyrn followed behind the duo, after they stepped far enough from the guard post, the hooded man turned to him:”Thank you, good sir, your interference was right on time, otherwise my bulky friend was going to have two of us involved into another unpleasant event with the local authority.”

“Nah…Just wanted to get into this city anyway.” The rugged faced sellsword shook his head, then he realized this man had knowledge of common tongue, Alwyrn eagerly asked the masked guy if he would share his knowledge of their where about.

Perhaps being shocked at such unusual request, the masked man stared at that rugged faced man with whatever expression one might have upon the condition, however, due to his mask, none could tell if he was stunned or simply restraining himself from burst into laughter:“Intriguing...It's kinda uncommon to see someone lost his awareness of location, I assume…” Not even the ragged hood of him could block away that sour embarrassment he felt from this dizzy sellsword in front of him.

“Uh…Alright, I got drunk in that bloody fort in Glewyire and got dumped on a traveling cart, I'm pretty sure that was some kind of stupid drunk joke those lads in my battalion pulled at my expense.”Alwyrn covered his forehead in his palms, desperately trying to recall any sign or monument he might recognize he saw.

“Fret not, mate, ye may be far from home but ye seem to be a nice and capable bloke, why don’t ye join mey and me crow-faced friend here?” The broad-shouldered man padded Alwyrn by the shoulder while making what he considered to be an undeniable offer in his muffled accent.

It was a good idea if you were some novice wanderer who seek glory eagerly enough or intended to have yourself chained and be sold as slaves on some exotic marketplaces, Alwryn, born and grew up in places where all kinds of treachery being practiced regularly, it presented him nothing but suspicious scent.

“Yeah, why not?”Still, the clueless sellsword nodded, though with caution in his mind. Alwyrn set his eyes upon the locale behind the ashen red walls.

Most buildings in the city were constructed in similar fashion, being unusually narrow in shape but also placed in considerate pattern as if they were some sort of legion stationing in a dense formation. These “soldiers” made of ashen bricks lined up alongside the web-like canals crawling through the streets, reflecting the broken images of riverside establishments distorted by air-borne watery drops.

“Welcome, my good man, to the maze city of Krelis-hout.” That canned voice seemed to be trapped inside a jar reached the confusing sellsword’s ear:”My name is Helix, an impoverished Brother Healer, if you ever find yourself injured or in need of potion, you need only to reach out.

”Don’t be fooled by ‘im, mate, the only potions he’s good’at mixing up are them which would burn through yer pants.” Helix's height privileged companion chuckled in delight.

“Would you kindly not to sass me for my imperfection in certain field of profession, Duke.” The self-proclaimed cleric shoved his giggling friend.