Alden stared out over the valley spread out behind him. The valley kingdom of Hillak had treated him very well and so he would keep in mind its people. He turned around before setting off, Bob riding on his shoulder.

They wandered for some time, never settling down in one place. Hillak was along the Hamilayan mountain range and as such was in the far north. As Alden began his traveling he wandered along the edge of the mountains. They split Gelid lengthwise with very few passes bridging the northern and southern pieces of Gelid. He wished dearly to go and explore every inch of it- the famous Mudflats of the Coast, the floating islands of the Center, the Sun Jungle of the East. He promised himself that he and Bob would see all of it.

The paths of the mountains were harsh and unforgiving. Steep twists up and down, storms with winds strong enough to tear the skin off a man and enough lighting to turn into a fried rat. Added to that challenge was hunting- the mountains were notorious for the numerous Labyrinths that dotted their faces. Numerous might be somewhat generous, but there were enough that the Hamilayan mountain range was infected with them. Further and Further Alden traveled, before one day he decided to change his route. So he packed up his sleeping bag, his wardstones, and set off to the south to explore the countryside. Towering cliffs and trees were replaced by softer and more lush hills. He continued to travel, occasionally avoiding a pack of wolves of a labyrinth monster. On rare occasions did he use his bow- acquired at a hefty discount from the Council of Hillak- to put down a beast or two. On those few occasions he ate well, delighting in the exotic tastes and mana that infused the flesh of the creatures. It certainly made his cycling and mana exercises that much harder, but he didn’t much care. It just made his training more effective in his mind. Each day was like the last, one day blurring into another. Wake up, clean up camp and sett off. Marvel at the beauty of the world before settling down an hour or two before dark. Set up camp, cook dinner while running through martial katas and some basic exercise routines. Eat dinner, wash himself if possible, and practice his Spells diligently. He loved the feeling of his mana, being able to cast spells and utilize his creativity to craft powerful effects. Eventually he would crawl into bed only to wake up and do so again.

It was on one of these days, like any other, that he was disturbed. Around an hour into hiking he had found a dirt road, partially overgrown on one side. With a shrug he hopped onto the road before resuming his march ever forward. It wasn’t that long afterwards that he heard a faint stomping- reminiscent of men walking or horses moving. The noise slowly grew louder before resolving into a caravan of armored horsemen and three chariots of excellent quality. He could tell the moment the guards spotted him- they clustered together before 3 of them rode forward together. Alden paused, waiting for them to cross the distance towards him. If it was a merchant caravan as he figured, then it would be in his best interest to appear as unthreatening as he could. He really didn’t relish the thought of fighting a couple of Merchants guards after all. Two of them stopped around 10 ft. away while the third- and apparent leader- approached closer. “Hail the traveler!”

“Hail to the guardsmen!” Alden replied, completing the path-greeting. The man seemed to relax some at the response, although his hand still rested on the hilt of his sword. Now that he was closer Alden could see the design of his armor and clothing. He wore a leather hauberk, on top of which chainmail rested. Expensive armor for a merchant guard. It either meant the merchant was rich enough to afford it, was carrying something valuable enough to justify such a guard or was someone important. Those three often went hand-in-hand as it were. “What is a lone traveler doing in this area?” The guard’s voice was rough and gritty yet still clear. “Wandering friend. Looking for a job as it were. You happen to have any openings?” The man regarded him for a moment before replying. “Maybe. You any good with that bow of yours?” Alden tilted his head at the question before shrugging. “Probably as good as you are with that sword you have.” The guard captain’s- if Alden’s guess was right that is- subordinates chuckled a little bit at that. The man himself even sported a small smile. “I doubt that friend. Come, join us. We’ll see if you’re worth a job.” Alden nodded before following the man back, his subordinates falling in behind him.

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It was always interesting, Alden mused, to consider the thoughts of others. Exhausting at times it was true, but often it could be a fun little game. Did they think he was a robber? A bandit who had lost his band? Perhaps they considered him a spy, or maybe a wandering mage of considerable power. Or perhaps they thought he was placed to sabotage or gather information on the merchant. Whatever the case they were certainly taking no chances. They placed him at the wagon in the rear. It was where the least valuables were kept and also where the 2nd largest gathering of men congregated. As they journeyed Alden attempted to weasel as much information as he could out of them- to no avail. He did however, stumble upon one interesting tidbit.

He was sitting with three other guards around a fire. They had settled down for the night and were enjoying the meal the merchant’s cook had put on. The men were trading the usual stories- war stories, cantrips and spells they had personally made, whatever wench or woman they had recently bedded. Alden was simply enjoying the atmosphere- and ignoring the raunchy jokes and conversations to the best of his ability. He didn’t agree with them but knew better to say anything. Besides, his silence was more powerful than any words he could spout. At least right now. It was a short fellow, one of the few infantrymen that accompanied the cavalry. Felran was his name. He was a small lad, fresh into manhood. He couldn’t have been more than 18 maybe 19 years. He spoke shyly, but as the wine and stories had flowed, he had grown bolder. “If you want a job wanderer, you should go to Ol’ Finch. You take the road partway down the southern rampart and branch off into the wilderness and you’ll find him. Old man always needs things doing for the right kind of people. Decaying wards that need to be taken down, a few vermin infestation. I’ve also heard that he needs to kill some undead! Probably hog wash you know, but putting the old man’s mind at ease might be worth a few golds if you know what I mean!” The boy laughed with ruddy cheeks before launching into another story. Alden continued to listen, laughing at the jokes and stories. Internally however, his mind whirled. He loved people who no one had an interest in, and who always had chores. Those were usually the people who had the most interesting things to be done after all. And, if worst should come to worst, undead slayer didn’t sound bad as a reference. He leaned back with a smile, and a mind full of ideas. He would have to see what this ‘Finch’ was about. Hopefully it was something interesting.