POV: Erroi

This morning would be just a little bit happier if beams of light weren't hitting my face, as if destiny decided "Fuck that guy in particular." But I guess that's how the world works. kykvandi was still sleeping on my bed, thankfully in the shade, untouched by the sun and how damn cold it is.

I hope you're willing to forgive me, old friend.

I crept in and slowly lifted his covers, and pressed my back against his chest, to avoid something too romantic. The bed was nice and warm and so was he. I felt my consciousness slip into the abyss from the warmth.

"DAD!" Hræ was shaking me awake and kykvandi was standing behind her.

“I guess I overslept.”

“Yeah. We tried almost everything to wake you, and nothing was working, so I had to figure out something before kykvandi slapped you awake.”

Princess, I am forever in your debt. Wait. I already am.

“Never mind that, what is it you need me for?”

“I went to Haski-Munnr and found they have free bedding and food!”

“You think that was worth waking me up for?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you're a smart little boy.” Hræ scowled and punched me, accidentally in the throat. She apologized profusely before leaving me to get dressed with kykvandi. Like MEN did. He was dressed lightly in just a sleeveless tunic and a robe. I found my tiger skins and adorned myself as extravagantly as a hermit could, and by the end, I think I looked deserving of the name Crowen the Swift.

”Hey, are you planning on meeting any friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you best disguise yourself. I chose your stage name to be Barefisted Ed, so we can cover everything except your hands.”

“Alright.”

“Can you give any response that contains more than one word?” He looked at me, and smirked a little.

“Maybe.”

“Smartass.” His smile got even bigger. It was rare to see him smile.

“Though. There is something you need to know.” FINALLY A SENTENCE!

"Go ahead.” I used rope and tied each end of a cloak to his forearms to hide Kykvandi's upper arms and back.

“The leader of the group. He's one of them.” Oh no. This would explain why he wanted to avoid them. If he found out our involvement, this could end bad, really bad...

"Guessing you told him you're a traveler."

"Never got the chance."

"I'll back up your story if you need it." these moth eaten boots looked more like ankle wraps but they were perfect for him.

"Thanks."

"You thought of your stage persona?" I found bandages and wrapped his head completely, since it was thin enough to obscure but not suffocate.

"No point. It's too stupid."

"True, but it sure is fun. How about this. You are a hermit who can channel magic through your fists after decades of meditation in the mountains."

"Whatever." And we're back to the beginning.

"Just don't do anything dangerous, please." He was no longer Kykvandi. He was now Barefisted Ed.

Kykvandi forced a smile. I think. "I know. Out of sight, and out of mind."

"Exactly. Now give me your best sagely voice."

Kykvandi hunched over, and spoke in a low gravely voice. "Have you seen my glasses? I think I dropped them on the floor somewhere." He dragged himself to the floor and looked for his glasses.

"Hell yeah."

"What about your persona?"

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I dashed up on a table and pranced about like an idiot. "For eons and generations, I search the plains for my beloved, Elisea, of Tobosah Island, and the ultimate regalia for her!" While I danced and sung, Kykvandi was clapping in rhythm, smiling like a fool. "The essence of Courage! AAH! A squirrel!" I jumped back and hid behind the bed. It was warming to see him smile and laugh.

Hræ walked in and saw us acting like idiots. ”Come on, you're wasting time acting like old men.”

That hurt right in the soul.

”Alright, we'll set sail for the clouded kingdom guarded by sea serpents, Haski-Munnr!”

We got our things and began the trail to Haski-Munnr, together.

POV: Milder

Several days had passed since I had that strange vision of Ofol.

We saw an opening in the trees further down the road. Only 200 metres now. Only 195 metres now. We were anticipating the sun, but still containing our excitement until Varr shouted at us.

"Last one to get to Haski-Munnr has to clean the pots!" And everyone began to run full speed towards the exit. Thankfully we were the only ones there, or we could have seriously hurt someone. Personally, I thought it was cheating, because Varr was riding with Djarfr and Saethwyr.

Seicig's buffalo, poor thing, was always calm, but through instinct, knew this race was important, on a deep, primitive level, and it carried her with both grace and speed towards the finish line, it's feet barely touching the ground with each step, yet still carrying her far.

Daufi, on the other hand, was just as excitable as when she was a puppy, and sprinted full tilt, galloping as if I wasn't holding on for my dear life to avoid falling off her saddle.

Varr's titanic monitor wasted no time performing its dance, a mix of slithering on its belly, and galloping, picking up a respectable speed and stability. Seicig's creature kept its cargo from shaking too much, and Daufi barrelled through, potentially breaking both enemy fortifications, and most bones in my body.

I was the closest to the finish line. Almost there. "DAUFI STOP!" She dug her paws in the ground and almost rolled on her side, but kept herself straight to avoid crushing me. Varr zoomed right past me shouting, "Sucker~!" and Seicig was close behind.

"Damn it Daufi! You almost killed me." I pinched her scruff, and she knew she did something wrong. She whined a little before returning to a gentle trot, thankfully leaving me alive to observe the beautiful fields surrounding Haski-Munnr.

I have never seen so many fields put together, it's strange, but so are the lands inhabited by demons. Botanists tell of plants growing faster and stronger in the cursed lands, so why not use that to grow more food for people.

The plots of land were all flat except for the odd house here and there, and grazing animals collecting weeds. It was relaxing to look at.

Daufi sped up and ran towards Seicig and the gang waiting at the archway to the town. Varr waved for a moment until he was in earshot. "Hey boss, you dead?" I mused on what to say.

"A little. I guess I have to clean up the cauldron this time." He nodded with a childish smile on his face.

We entered the town on foot, together, to see the beautiful architecture.

The town was beautiful, the houses were rich in colour and the giant colosseum I almost fell into was kept immaculate.

There was a keep looming over the colosseum, made of Brocken steel. For being so weathered and crude, it was still masterfully maintained, for such a rich colour came only from washing each and every brick in boiling tar. Add to that the sheer amount of bricks, it was a miracle the foundations of the keep held it from sinking into the ground.

Now that we were here, we needed a plan. We had money, but without knowing how long we would wait for reinforcements, it wouldn't be smart to stay in an inn. "Varr, any opportunities nearby?" he pointed at a stand held by a large man wearing a bright red brigandine, with an armour skirt that was probably for decoration.

I approached him. He was twirling the stand before putting it down and standing behind it. "Hello! Are you here for the tournament?"

"What? Oh, no. We're just looking for a way to get money. Do you know of anything?"

"Well, there's the obvious choice. There's a prize for winning the tournament, and there are bounties on outlaws."

Between the two, the tournament would have been the safer option, but I would not submit myself to such barbarism for money. Seicig put her hand on my shoulder. "We can't afford to be picky. And it is the safer option." ...She was right.

We have no choice but to fight for money.

"What are the rules of the competition?"

"No killing. No weapons. Ring-out, knock-out or surrender."

"What is the reward?"

"four kilos of gold pieces, all stamped with the face of Aneirin." That will last us long.

I shook his hand. "We're in."

He stopped smiling. "All of you? We only got room for two more." between Saethwyr, Varr, Djarfr and I, we'd have to pick 2. Seicig asked to see the list and had him point at a group near us.

Seicig approached the four man band and talked with them for a few moments, then they followed her to an alleyway out of everyone's view. We waited for a few minutes, but no one dared to look.

She returned with them ten minutes later, and they resigned from the competition. Djarfr hugged her and asked her. "What happened?" She shook her head.

"It doesn't matter. We can join the tournament together now." She rubbed her left eye again.

We all signed our names, but Djarfr stayed put. "This is stupid."

Seicig crossed her arms. "The more of us we are in the tournament, the more likely we'll win." Djarfr wasn't amused.

She walked up to Seicig and pointed her finger in her face. "I'm not playing your stupid games. You can play with the rest of the crew, but don't get me involved." She stormed off. It was a mystery what she was thinking. Why was she being stubborn at a time like this?

We were still 4 men strong, so we had a good chance of winning. The booth man pointed at Djarfr storming off. "If she changes her mind, tomorrow's the last day to register. Oh, and the Shank o' Lamb is offering free bedding and food to contestants."

Varr decided to look around for inns and other places to stay, and we explored the rest of the town.

The market was bustling with activity at every stall. Some were selling trinkets or artistic depictions of the contestants. One man was selling miniature statues with their names carved into a base they were attached to. Telgja was a broad man carrying a long axe about his height.

There was a relatively giant orc statue, named Lesour, the verdant giant, and another of a shining warrior only wearing a loincloth. We were contestants now, should I ask him to make us in our likeness?

"Oh look, It's Milder! I haven't made you a statue yet!" the vendor was waving us close. It had only been an hour since we joined.

"Could you tell me about the other contestants?"

"Sure, which one?" He would switch from looking at me to looking at a small log he was carving into.

"By date of joining, please" I should figure out each fighter so I know what to expect.

"Taka, the undead lord of darkness is said to be a reanimated warrior, unable to be defeated by mere mortals."

"Melor is a doctor from a far away land."

"Lesour is a bounty hunter who fights in arenas all the time."

"Kalla is said to have bones made of steel and the speed of a courier."

"Jafn-Berr is a warrior who fights like an eel!"

"Thollr is a strongman testing his skills in the arena!"

"Telgja is an expert woodsman and a giant fire demon!"

He seemed finished with the list. "Is there anyone here by the name of kykvandi, or perhaps some more contestants?"

"Ain't no one here heard of a kykvandi, not even in the older roster. BUT! I wanna know what you look like underneath that helm so I can make a statue of you!"

"Sorry, my helm is staying on."

"Alright then, what's your title?"

"Is it truly necessary?"

"No, but it sure gets the ladies excited!"

"No title, please." the vendor sighed and continued carving and painting. I stayed to watch him finish it. He gave me the statue, recreating my likeness as best a pint sized chunk of wood could. I handed it back to him, and he finished the other members of the group.

"D'you want a list of the contestants? It was updated a few minutes ago." He handed me the roster. He omitted three names, Gruffydd, Osian and Rhys. They weren't aldren names. I showed the list to Seicig. She confirmed they were elven names. These must be our escorts. The list included a well made drawing of everyone's faces, and a description of their clothing.

Our best chance of finding them was to go to the inns and ask around for them.

We reached an inn near the arena, the Shank o' Lamb. This is where the elves would most likely be. We walked in. All the fighters were eating here. The rowdy mood was cut the moment we walked in. We exchanged looks for a moment everyone resumed their activities, that being eating and drinking.

The man tending the bar knew who we were. "Welcome! The rooms are in the house behind this one. This just the bar." He gave us each a plate filled with lamb legs, roasted to perfection. Their odour was lovely.

We found an unoccupied table and started to eat. Each bite of the lamb filled my mouth with a pleasant burning feeling from the horse radish flakes littered generously on the skin. The garlic contrasted well with its sweetness balancing the pepper from becoming an eye watering mess. The tendones were soft and chewy, without causing any problems. Even the bone was cooked we-

"Milder! We know you're hungry, but you chewing on bones is becoming annoying." Seicig looked at me sternly.

"It's just too good. I can't stop myself."

"The meat is undercooked and the horseradish tastes more of dirt than spice."

"You forgot to mention the garlic. It makes it taste so sweet."

"There's no garlic in it." Where's this sweetness coming from then? I looked at the shank. Somehow I hadn't noticed this before. I had bitten into my knuckle and bled on my food. I licked it clean. It tasted so sweet, so metallic.