Working Title

Young mercenary on a journey

Working Title

(Authors note - The ~~ are just there to remind myself where I last left off. The reader can ignore those for now, and will be removed later.)

Chapter 1

          "What do you mean all of the rooms are taken? Surely I can make it worth your while!" Izaedra said with a tired tone. After travelling well over 250 miles on foot, trudging through the whole of The Swamps of Dranlos. It was clear to see that he was losing his patience with the inn-keep. 'Maybe I should look elsewhere,' he pondered, 'Or I could just make him give me a room.' he continued, getting lost deeper into his thoughts.

"I am terribly sorry young sir, but with all of the recent attacks, many people 'ave lost their homes, and have to stay 'ere." replied the inn-keep. "Maybe I can-" he was interrupted by Izaedra's hands slamming down on the counter, causing people to stop their conversing and see what the commotion was.

"Listen old timer, I've travelled for nearly a week straight on foot, with little rest. There has got to be-" Izaedra had begun to say, but was cut off by a voice he heard behind him.

"If you need a bed and a shower, maybe we can make an arrangement." the voice had said. "On the condition you help me launch a counter attack on these foul beasts."

Izaedra turned to see what the man looked like, and looked him up and down. "My, my. Here I was thinking your kind was all but exterminated. How did you get so lucky to be allowed to live?" Izaedra replied with a smirk. As he looked the stranger up and down, he thought the man didn't look particularly intimidating, but he knew better than that. Izaedra could tell just by looking at the fair skin and white hair, that the man was from the Frozen Lands of Ashe Mande. It was a land known for it's harsh conditions, making the inhabitants fairly hardy.

The man let out a slight chuckle, "Maybe we could discuss that another time. Do you want to take me up on my offer or shall I retire to my room alone?"

"My name is Izaedra, from Ulrathis" he replied to the man. "And you are?"

"I am Xyan'thal, hailing from Ashe Mande," he stated proudly. "Come," tilting his head backwards, showing Izaedra to follow him, "Let us speak privately." he finished as he turned around and waved his hand, slowly walking away.

Once they had arrived at the room on the second story of the inn, Izaedra pulled a chair from under the table and sat down to rest his weary feet, and motioned for Xyan'thal to do the same.

"So about that proposition-" Izaedra had begun, placing a leather knapsack at his feet.

"We speak no more until you wash off that rancid smell coming from your body." Xyan'thal interrupted him, pointing to the washroom. "Go and soak in the bath for a while, you need it"

Throwing his head back with annoyance, Izaedra replied "Can I just rest for a minute?"

"Absolutely not. I will not have my room stained with the smell of shit and sweat" Xyan'thal looked at Izadra's boots. "Take those off before you go any further. I do not want whatever is on your boots to mash into the floor."

Izaedra had lowered his head down to look at his feet, and then back at the man. "Are you sure you want me to do that? I'm not sure if you had heard me speaking to the inn-keep, but I just finished walking the whole of Dranlos, and I'm more than certain that I have brought some of it with me on the inside of my boots." he said as he let out a laugh.

"Well, it can't be any worse than how you smell now. Please, just do as I ask. I paid a premium to get this room and I want to keep it the way I found it." Xyan'thal murmured through his hands covering his mouth and nose.

"As you wish." Izaedra replied and he started to undo the strings keeping his shoes taut against his feet. Once he had gotten the final piece of cloth holding his boots to his feet, he reached to the back of his boot pulling it off in one swift motion, letting some of the mixture inside drip out. He looked up at Xyan'thal "I told you I would have some of the swamp in here," he chuckled.

Xyan'thal sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, shook his head and walked into another room. As he walked away to grab something to wipe up the mess that was made on the floor, he asked from the other room "Could you try to be more careful with the other boot?" He re-entered the main room, and tossed Izaedra a piece of linen to clean the disgusting mixture, plugging his nose once again. "By all that is holy, hurry up and get washed before I wash you myself"

Izaedra nodded as he cleaned up the mess beneath him. "You're the one that offered me a place to wash up and rest. Could you not smell me as we were talking at the bar?" he replied as he started to take off his other boot.

"No, I could not. The smell of ale and meat was too heavy in the air. Now that we are alone in this confined room-" he started as he turned around to the wall to open the only window, "-I'm regretting the offer" he finished with a chuckle. "Those boots are likely to be ruined. I hope you brought some coin with you to buy new ones at the shop in town. Throw them out the window and I will let you use a pair of mine until we can get you a new pair.

"Aye, I brought some with me. Though I hadn't planned on spending it on such items, but now that I have them off," Izaedra started to say with a furrow in his brow and winced eyes, "I think that you are right." He walked over to the window and looked out to make sure nobody was beneath the window, and tossed his ruined boots out of it.

Xyan'thal released his breath that he had been holding as Izaedra walked by with his spoiled footwear. He looked at where Izaedra was sitting and noticed a trail of wetness behind him. He sighed and said with a slight annoyance in his tone, "Clean up your footprints please and get in the bath"
~~
Izaedra reluctantly wiped up the rest of the mixture, threw the wet rag out of the window, and asked Xyan'thal where the washroom was. Xyan'thal pointed to the room, which was through the bedroom. Izaedra nodded and thanked him for letting him wash up. Once in the washroom, be began to strip and take his armor off, which wasn't much. All he had on was a single shoulder pad on his right side that linked together like dragon scales, and reached down to the middle of his bicep. He also had a small, yet thick, piece of leather covering his torso, that seemed to be stained with blood, and two metal bracers that were thin, but effective, and covered the whole of his forearm. With all of his armor off, his undergarments soon followed, being thrown to the other side of the room.

Once fully nude, he stretched his whole body, closed his eyes, and let out an exhausted sigh. 'Time to finally relax.' Izaedra thought to himself. His body was muscular, yet lithe, like a duelist. In the life he left behind, he was part of a mercenary band. He had multiple small scars on his abdomen, and one large one on his back, going from his right shoulder down diagonally to his left hip. Which was to be expected from a young man who knew nothing other than war. However, there was another that was an odd shape. It seemed to not be made from any sword, and rested on the intention between his neck and torso. Not much hair covered his body other than his armpits and pubic area, but was a shade of brown not like the dirty blond hair that set upon his head. It was of medium length that covered half of his forehead and ears, and had a very slight wave. He ran his fingers through it to get any loose debris that had been sitting in there from his journey.

He turned the tap that was on the reservoir of water, and the liquid had started to flow out. It wasn't warm like it was in the last place he stayed, but he didn't care at this point. All Izaedra wanted was to get clean and not move for more than fifteen minutes. He fully submerged himself in the cool water for a couple of seconds. He then peaked his head back out of the water, which he only brought out from his nose up, and opened his eyes back up. They were a shade of blue which almost matched the water itself. Izaedra sat and relished the peace and quiet, closing his baby blue eyes again.

In the other room, Xyan'thal sat quietly in the chair opposite to where Izaedra was. He pondered to himself 'He must have a weapon, right? No one would be crazy enough to cover such distance with no protection other than armor.' He scratched his head as he was thinking and removed the thin piece of cloth that held his hair into a small tail. It was longer than Izaedra's hair, reaching down to his shoulders and was almost white, but still had a tone of blond to it and was as straight as an arrow. He shook his head to help the hair fall into place 'I wonder if the boy is even strong enough to fight these beasts. He looks as if he just hit manhood not but a year ago' he continued in his head. He closed his emerald green eyes, which all people of Ashe Mande had, and rubbed them with his right thumb and forefinger a few times out of exhaustion. He decided he would go back down to the bar counter and grab the two of them something to eat and drink while Izaedra finished cleaning himself.
~~
Once Izaedra was dried off and had the undergarments on that Xyan'thal had let him use, he wandered back into the main area, only to find that no one was there. 'He must have went out for a little bit' he thought. Just as soon as he completed that sentence in his head, the door to the room swung open. Xyan'thal had came back with two plates of meat, more than likely from a boar. What ever kind of meat it was, it had a delicious smell. It smelled of heavy smoke and different kind of spices. Izaedra took a deep breath in with his nose and savored the divine aroma.

"It's about time you finished up in there." Xyan'thal said, looking in Izaedra's direction. "I figured you were hungry, so I went down to the bar and got us some food. The matron should be up here shortly with pitcher of mead."
~~
"By the twelve, I am famished." Izaedra started, "And I bet it tastes even better than it smells. I greatly appreciate you getting us some food." he continued. "I haven't had a proper meal in a long time." He hungrily dug into the meat, like a wild wolf would eat its prey, tearing the flesh down to the bone and sinew.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, feint but noticeable. Without a word, Xyan'thal quietly got up and walked over to the door. He opened it and as he stood there, Izaedra watched from the table while still chewing on the tender cut of meat. Xyan'thal closed the door and held up the pitcher of mead and two mugs that were given to him by the matron. "Thirsty?" he smiled at Izaedra.

"Absolutely parched" Izaedra stated with his mouth half full of food. "I need something to wash this meat down with, and I haven't had a mug of mead since I left where I last rested." He took several audible gulps and let out a sigh of contentment afterwards. "Now that was a proper meal!" He exclaimed as he leaned back in his chair and relaxed. With his legs stretched out and his hands placed on his stomach, he said "It has been far too since I had a clean body and a full stomach. Are you not going to eat any of this meat? You're really missing out."

Xyan'thal just took small sips from his mug, and looked over at the platter. "I have already eaten for the night. I figured I could at least give you some food since you have been walking so far and for so long," he said after he swallowed down another bit of the alcohol. "And now that I have gotten you all fat and happy, I was hoping that it would be harder for you to help me with this attack" he finished as he sat down his mug.

Izaedra's expression went from relaxing in the chair to sitting up straight and looking at Xyan'thal in the eyes with a determined look in his eye. "These things" Izaedra said with malice in his voice, "Took everything I held dear to me." He looked at the ground and continued speaking, "I will fight by your side for the time being, but I don't think we will be able to do any real damage to their numbers. There seem to be an almost infinite number of them. Myself and my old company" his voice wavering for a second before he regained his composure, "were attacked by them as well." He finished.

Xyan'thal knew that Izaedra wasn't telling the full story as to what had happened in the past, but he thought it wouldn't be his place to press.
~~
Chapter 2

Somewhere in the middle of the field, it seemed calm. The kind of calm that was uncomfortable, where something bad was going to happen at any moment. There was a slight breeze that came through the plains, making waves in the tall grass and the leaves rustle, and the sun was beaming down, making it an almost perfect day. That was until in the distance, the sound of horses trampling on earth broke the serene silence. The all too familiar sounds of swords clashing followed the heavy hooves. It was yet another skirmish between the Kingdom of Chulon and The Voltune Republic. During this skirmish, the Kingdom of Chulon was trying to gain access to the Voltune Republic's supply depot. They were attempting to either occupy it, or inflict heavy damage to it. Either was a valid option according to the Chulon army commander, Sathuel.

"We need to try to break through their heavy calvary, else we won't make any headway!" Sathuel yelled to his subordinates, while parrying a sword swing from an enemy soldier. "Try to find an opening."

The sounds of metal hitting metal rang across the battlefield, along with the dying moans and groans of soldiers from both sides. An ungodly smell started to fill the nostrils of everyone. A mix of blood, guts, and sinew made the ground soft and wet, making it hard to get a good footing. Somewhere in the middle of the battle, a young man was taking out soldiers left and right, like a whirlwind of steel. People from both sides stopped to watch in awe.

"Who is that guy?" a Chulon soldier whispered to another. "He's almost like a monster the way he's taking out our enemy. Is he one of ours?"

"I don't think so. His garb isn't ours." the other soldier replied back, not taking his eyes off the young man. "Could he be a mercenary?"

The young man continued to clash swords with Voltune's army, parrying and riposting with the ease of a seasoned swordsman. His sword was long, almost as long as he was tall. He swung it around with ease, like it was a normal short sword, yet he didn't look like he was very strong. At least not strong enough to swing around that massive blade. Just as he killed another soldier, a large man, clad in heavy armor stepped forward, towering over the rest of the onlookers, and put his battle axe over his shoulder and stared at the young slayer.

"Get out of my way!" the man snorted, as he shoved people out of his way to make his way to the front of the crowd. He placed his palm on the head of a random soldier and moved him out of his way. "I want to have a go at this kid."

He stood like a giant in front of the rest of the crowd, easily a few heads over everybody else. His armor thick and heavy, and looked like it was almost impossible to move around in, yet he made it look effortless. His axe was monstrous in size as well. Its blade was battle worn and had chips and fractures all over it. On the top of the axe was a long, sharp point, which could easily be used to stab at someone, before chopping their body in pieces. The young man stood in silence watching the lumbering giant approach closer to him. He watched him closely, examining his every movement.

"I like your fighting style, young one." The large, burly man said with a slight smirk across his lips. "Where did you learn to wield such a weapon with your small stature?"

The young man didn't make a facial expression and responded flatly. "My adoptive father had me train with a sword from the time I could grasp the hilt of one."

The behemoth let out a thunderous laugh before he spoke, "That sounds like one hell of a father figure. What's your name, kid?"

"My name is Izaedra," the young man stated bluntly, as he rested his oversized sword on his shoulder.

Just as he gave his name to the massive man, he had a small flashback to when he was 6 years old. It was the first time his adoptive father had him pick up a blade. Izaedra's naturally gravitated towards the blade that was almost too heavy for him to even lift off of the ground, let alone use it properly. It was as if he had something to prove to the man that had taken him under his wing, even if he was abused by him. Izaedra charged at his father, Galahar, with his sword point dragging on the ground behind him. Izaedra tried to swing it at Galahar, but it got parried and slammed back into the dirt. As he parried it, Galahar reared back the pommel of his handle, and hit it on the top over Izaedra's head with enough force to blur his vision slightly. He stumbled around for a few seconds and found his footing again.

"You're not able to even pick up that sword properly, boy. Why do you even try?" Galahar spoke sharply. "We have swords that are smaller that would be better suited for a runt like you." He finished with a condescending smirk.

Tears began to form in young Izaedra's eyes, not from the blow to the head, but from the blow to his mental. He didn't understand why the man who decided to raise him, was always being so cruel to him. He wiped them away with the back of his hand before they could reach his cheeks. He decided not to open his mouth, as he knew it would result in even more punishment. He mustered all of his strength to pick up the sword again and swung it from below. The sudden swing caught Galahar by surprise, but he dodged it at the last moment before it made a deep wound on his thigh.

"Nicely done boy. Always take advantage when someone isn't paying attention." Galahar smiled as he spoke.

Izaedra blinked and he was back on the battlefield facing down the large man.

"You seem like such a skilled fighter for your age. This will be fun." the giant said as he picked his axe head off the ground and placed his other hand near the blade, getting ready to charge. But before he could even take a step forward, Izaedra started sprinting, moving across the field like a wild dog chasing its prey. He reached the man in just a few seconds and began to swing his sword. Just before it reached his opponents head the giant moved the haft of the axe and blocked the sword. Izaedra reeled his sword back and kept beating it against the axe, pushing the man on the backfoot.

"Noone has ever pushed Thron back like that before." One of the soldiers said with his eyes glued to the duel. "He's taken on twenty men before without getting touched."

Izaedra kept pushing forward, striking his sword against the axe over and over again. Thron let out a yell and pushed his axe into the sword and threw it to the side. He swung his axe over his head and brung it down with force. Izaedra moved his body to the side quickly and before the axe blade hit the ground, he stabbed his sword into the side of Thron.