Prologue
Little Trouble in Big Skitt
Ram gazed out through the dirt-stained tavern window, sipping from his cup of ale. From this grimy vantage point, he could see across the whole town. Skitt was not the largest town, but it was a cornerstone of the kingdom’s defences, perhaps the most important place outside of Heraldförn itself.
In the main thoroughfare of the town he saw a small group of boys fighting amongst themselves. They’ve started training early, he thought to himself.
The best men from each town would be specifically selected to fight for Heraldförn, and the men selected from Skitt were the best in the kingdom, if not the whole continent itself. To be the best man from Skitt, meant to be one of the best in the kingdom, Ram would know…
“Poor sods, they’ll all be drafted to Heraldförn in a few years” a man exclaimed. Three men sat at the table across from him. All local men, although far from the best that the town had to offer. “Unless you’re like Ram here” a second said, nodding in Ram’s direction.
True enough, Ram had thought of joining the mighty Heraldförn forces once, but a man like Ram had a yearning for adventure. Travelling across all of Vega, from the White Sea to the Eastern Kingdoms. A roaming hero, saviour of countless cities and towns throughout Urungeald. Fighting all manner of creatures from low-bears to mighty, Librestan Babaskas. The people of these towns needed a hero like Ram, especially the women…
“Sure, he’s hardly set foot out of Skitt!” the third man quipped, as he laughed to himself.
Alas, the adventuring life had been Ram’s calling, but a true, noble man knew that they had to sacrifice themselves for something greater. How could he go out roaming the world, all the while leaving Skitt unprotected?
The town was vital to Heraldförn’s defences, and if Heraldförn fell, the whole Western Kingdom wouldn’t be long following. He had sacrificed a life of adventure to become the defender of Skitt. An unsung hero, there would be no great tales of his deeds like Trevelian Manaborne or the more recent hero of the east Zanzo De la Cruz. Ram didn’t need fame, not more than the people of Skitt needed him.
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From the corner of his eye Ram noticed two strange men on horseback enter the town. Both men were dressed in strange robes, nothing like Ram had seen before. He couldn’t make out their faces as both were obscured by their hoods. The suspicious men continued past the tavern window, could they be spies from Hirundal? Scouts from New Yashai? One of the men looked up through the window and caught Ram’s eye. Ram quickly glanced away, not wanting to alert them to his suspicions. These men could be dangerous, and the element of surprise is always handy.
Moments later the two men entered the tavern. Ram could see their faces fully now. The first was an older man, with sharp, dark features. The second, a younger man who looked like he had spent too much time in the larder. His heart began to race.
He could see no weapons on the men, but there was plenty of room to conceal a blade within their long robes. Ram scanned the room, the three men next to him would be no use in what was to come. Ram was on his own, he started to calculate the innumerous ways this fight could go. The next actions taken by these two men could be their last.
The men approached the counter at the back of the tavern. An old, haggard woman sat stooped behind the counter. She looked like she had overstayed her time on this earth, as if death had forgotten to claim her years ago and wasn’t bothered coming back for her.
“It’s not often we get people passing through here, mages least of all” she croaked. “What can I do for ye?”
Mages… the thought had crossed Ram’s mind, but he knew better than to assume the abilities of his opponents. While Ram had no formal training from the Citadel, he was sure his innate abilities would be more than enough for these two.
Ram always felt he was gifted in the ways of magic. He had never had cause to use his abilities before of course, but in a battle with two mages he might finally have to unleash all the raw power he knew dwelled within him.
“Just looking for a place to refill our water flasks, it goes quickly in this desert heat” the older man said flatly.
“Ah not to worry, plenty o’ water in the well out back, feel free to help yerselves.”
“Oi Ram, you useless sod, have you finished cleaning those windows yet? These men need showing to the well”
“I’m getting to it Ma... f-follow me this way” he slurred as he stumbled past the two men, out the side door of the tavern.
The younger mage looked at Ram incredulously. “Is he drunk?” he whispered, “It’s not even midday!”
“Quiet” the older man scowled “What have I told you about keeping your comments to yourself.”