Trees rustle and birds sing. Many noises cloud the air, but the patters of human feet can still be heard. Two sets of hard leather shoes tap against a cobblestone road, but more poignantly, a set of steel soled shoes clack loudly.
The eye of a crow spots the perpetrators of these noises, just before plucking out the eye of a freshly killed corpse. A keen eyed man wearing the clacking metal shoes stops, eying the corpse suspiciously. He waves his scarred and calloused hand to his compatriots, signalling them to stop.
"Hold on, let me look at this..."
"What is it this time?" A blonde, armor clad woman, saber at her waist replies.
"This guy's fresh," the man replies, "and from the looks of it, this guy was murdered."
"Oh, like how?"
"I can't place it..." he says, swatting the hungry crow away, causing it to angrily caw as it flies away.
"Goddamnit, you stopped us to look at a suspicious tree, and then a weird rock, and now some corpse? These are turbulent times, there's going to alot of fighting everywhere."
"Bitch, just wait up, I need to see..."
"I didn't come with you to be called bitch, you asshole! We're running low on time, and town's just up ahead!"
"My intuition's not fucking wrong! Skidaddle to town little girl, leave a man alone to do important things."
"Fuck you!"
The third member of the party, an honestly frightened scrawnier looking man, inserts himself into the bickering.
"Alright, uh, can you two stop fighting..."
"Shut the hell up pissant!" The man snaps at him.
"Don't talk to Conway like that!" the woman snaps back at the man.
"This peon could drop dead and die for all I care, why'd he even come along anyway?!"
"He's my friend and he's helping out!"
"We don't NEED help from pissants that can't defend themselves."
"That's why we're here you fucking prick!"
"Sonuva..." the man holds his forehead angrily, "Do whatever the hell you want," he turns away from the body, and continues walking down the road. "I'm gonna get my get myself situated in town."
"Pfft, asshole." continuing down the road as well.
A long stretch of old buildings, roofs red with ceramic shingles and walls plastered white, and colorful cobblestone roads interlaced with yellow, orange, and red bricks dominate the appearance of the town, being not only the main road, but also the little alleys and walkways between the buildings. Stalls and shops line the main road as the party walks into town, with an abundance of people shuffling to and fro. The group walks through them, but the density of the people grew larger, until the party's gait had begun to slow. The man's flies off the breaking point.
"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!"
The crowd stops, looks upon the musclebound stranger, his chest exposed through his vest to reveal a thoroughly beaten a scarred body with an insignia of a bird's footprint burned onto his arm. People stare for a second, bewildered, but then a wave of fear strikes the crowd, and they all back away slowly.
"Don't scare the townspeople! We don't want to attract too much attention, remember?!" the woman reminds him.
"Meh, I'm pissed anyhow. What was the name of this place again?"
"Valesburg."
"Alright, you go procure the supplies for the last leg of our trip, what was the name of the last guy we need to pick up? Marlon?" the man inquires.
"Yeah, next town over."
The man scans over the scared crowd and sees a black haired woman in a frumpy dress, not only scared, but crying as she shelters her child. The man approaches her, tilting his head forward slightly.
"What's wrong?"
The woman says nothing, instead choosing to hold her child more tightly, and cry slightly harder.
"I'm a bit lost, mind telling me where the nearest pubb is?"
The woman, hesitates, then jets out her arm, pointing at a large overhanging sign down the road.
"Thanks, I'm famished.", and the man makes his way to the building, waving back to the blonde "Don't worry about me."
The blonde woman holds her head in frustration, before walking off in an entirely different direction to secure supplies and lodgings.
An hour passes, and the man, sitting at a rustic table, has been greedily drinking and dining. Conroy emerges through the swingy old west doors, cautiously scans the room, and then makes his way over to the man's table.
"Julius, I have..."
"Oh, you remember my name!" He interrupts.
"Uh, yeah, I just wanted..."
"Come on, sit down." He interrupts again, gesturing to a chair at his table. Conroy nervously takes a seat, it squeaking as it places his weight on it. He clenches his hands together on the table, thinking carefully on his next words.
"Hey Conroy, you want something? Barkeep!" Julius signals to the man behind an old wooden counter, "Two of yer finest!". The barkeep nods silently, preparing the drinks.
"Err, Julius. Alma and I have been talking and..."
"Let me stop you right there." Julius interrupts a third time.
"What is it?" Conroy replies, almost frustrated.
Julius reaches into an inner pocket of his vest, and pulls out a little pouch. He jingles it around a bit before opening it up and extracting 10 gold coins, and placing them on the table in front of Conroy's hands. Conroy looks at them suspiciously, then looks back up and sees Julius has dove back into eating what appears to be a spicy cooked fish platter of some sort.
"Uh, what is this?" Conroy asks.
Julius puts a finger up, waiting until he's finished swallowing his mouth full of food.
"Look, I'm gonna be real nice with you Conroy, since you're a nice guy. Take these coins, and head back to Faldebund, or whereever the hell it is you live"
"What's the meaning of this?" Conroy asks confusedly.
"What I'm trying to get at little man, is that me and Alma know how to fight, you don't. You're a liability, and things are going to gradually going to get more and more violent as our journey continues."
"I'm prepared to handle that risk!"
"Well I'm not willing to drag your ass if you get hurt in the middle of nowhere. Now, I'm being nice here, and you're going to accept my generous offer to pay your way back home, or I'm going to smash your ass into a thousand pieces, and mail you back him one bit at at time."
Conroy unclenches his hands, thinks of a truly nasty insult, but then decides against voicing it. Julius continues,
"Now really, am I being that mean? Look, with that much gold, you can get a real nice carriage ride back him, and have plenty left to get some nice clothes or something. You might not like me Conroy, but I really don't want to see someone helpless get hurt. And trust me, you're going to be helpless against the opponents Alma and I are going to face."
Conroy lowers his hand, trying to think of a comeback, but Julius actually is very intimidating, and so Conroy lifts up his hand, and motions to grab the gold, but a loud bang is heard as the swing doors slam against the walls from someone pushing them entirely too hard.
"What's taking so long Conroy?!" The blonde haired Alma intrudes on their conversation, marching right over to them and slamming her palm onto the table, making the little tower of coins topple over.
"Hey Alma, what took you so long?" Julius greets her, kicking his feet up onto the table.
"Did you tell him Conroy, or did you stop to have a drink?!"
Conroy looks befuddled at Alma, but then notices the waitress standing beside him with the drinks Julius ordered.
"That'll be 2 silv..."
"That won't be necessary Miss, take them back." Alma commands the waitress.
"But Mr. Juli..."
Alma slams her fist into the table, cracking some of the wooden boards. The waitress gets the message, and leaves without saying another word.
"Hey, I was just enjoying a good drink."
"We need to talk!" Alma
"What about?"
"You're being grossly unprofessional."
"Like how?"
"When I joined you in Faldebund, I thought our agreement would be mutually beneficial. However, when we left, you were actually hungover. You'd stop and piss around for no reason. We got detoured when you beat the crap out of those imperial guards, and we honest to god got ourselves wanted by the local Warlord!"
"Those guards had it coming."
"To top it all off though, even though we're supposed to be low-key, you make a big fucking fuss in the street, making sure that absolutely everyone sees us..."
"And...?"
"You're a dumbass!"
"Oh, yeah, I forgot. Apparently you forgot who we are. I'm not sure if it's slipped your mind, but I'm an honorary master of Awutara Kantorga, and do you know what that means?"
"..."
"It's an old, forgotten language. It means 'Brutal Fist of an Unforgiving God', and I can assure you, it doesn't matter who they send after us, they're all lambs to the slaughter."
"You're an arrogant prick you know that? You think you're big shit? You're not even expected to get into the next Great Eight."
"Neither are you, and that's why we're a team, to knock out the real candidates, so we can take their place."
"I just want you to straighten up your act, is that so much to ask? Just don't get us into any more trouble, it's almost night, and we need to get some rest. We're heading out tomorrow." Alma crosses her arms, thinking that maybe she's gotten through to him.
"No can do."
Alma stares at him for a few seconds, the blood rushing to her head as her anger increases sharply.
"Why the hell not?! We're in a hurry!"
"Look, there's some serious danger nearby. I already paid off the barkeep to let me hide out in a little room upstairs that noone else knows about, and to keep his mouth shut about me."
"What sort of danger?!"
"This may seem farfetched, but I'm thinking it's Shrodenfraude."
"Who?"
"He's another master of Awutara Kantorga, in fact, the only other one. However, he actually received the blessing and the sacred band necessary to become one of the next Great Eight. For good reason too, he's alot better than me."
Alma takes the info in, and thinks about it for a second, "So? Then isn't our goal to kill him?"
"Not yet, I know Shrodenfraude, we practically grew up together, and I know that even out combined efforts won't be enough to take him down."
Alma rubs her face in frustration, "How do you know he's in town anyhow?"
"Easy, the body we saw outside town was very unique. Besides being nary a day old, he didn't have a mark on him. Not a single cut, or bruise, or drop of blood. He didn't even look to be in distress, like death came instantaneously, and he didn't have time to react... that's something Shrodenfraude could do, easily."
"So? There's derivatives of your martial art you know, how do you know it wasn't one of them?"
"There was a lady crying somet time ago, I didn't ask her why, but I suspect it's because she saw my mark."
"The little bird's footprint?"
"Yeah, it's a mark that masters of our art have, kind of like how your swordsmanship school give you the special mark, that frayed triangle on your neck."
Alma reaches up her hand and touches the little mark on her neck.
"So I was thinking that Shrodenfraude passed through, shook up the populace real good, and then when the woman saw it, she must've thought I was in cahoots with him."
"That's quite the hunch."
"Oh, and I asked the barkeep, and he did see somebody with a mark like mine."
Alma rests her forehead in her hands, out of sheer frustration. Julius continues,
"So, as I said, I'm hiding here until..."
"You goddamn pussy! We're on a time limit here! We can't fucking waste time here, and I can't leave you behind!" Alma says, growing increasingly angry.
"Sure you can, he's not looking for you. You can just waltz out of town, go to Rangbatz, pick up Marlon, and then come back."
"But Rangbatz is about as close to the Royal Road as we're going to get, and the odds of me running into some other Martial Master is not insignificant! I'm competition you know, and so they'll probably try to snuff me out."
"Oh, is the little girl scared of a little conflict?"
"Hey screw you! What if this Shroden-fella finds ya? You won't have me to back you up!"
"I can handle myself."
Alma looks at him dumbfoundedly. She examines his face, yet only finding that he said that in complete seriousness. Coolly, he leans back and motions to the waitress, who tentatively hands him his drink, and then quietly nods and backs away as he takes a big drink. Alma plants her hands on the table angrily.
"...So... You're saying you can handle yourself, but I can't?!"
"Is that some sort of surprise?"
"Let me tell you! I've been wielding the blade since I was just a little'un, fighting my brothers and sisters, the lords, the bandits!"
"Like I care how many of those feeble valley folk you've fought."
"FEEBLE?!"
Julius slams his tankard down, producing a loud thud as the table's crack is exacerbated.
"Yeah, you had it easy down here. I've been training for most of my life in the goddamn frigid fucking mountains. My Grandmaster forbid us from using weapons you know, I had to go hunting and punch animals to death if I wanted to eat. Don't swagger with that sword and think you're big, these fists..."
Julius raises up his hand in a fist, exposing his incredibly beaten and hardened knuckles.
"Are much harder than steel!"
"What are you hinting at? That you think you're stronger than me?!"
"Damn straight I am, and you're going to fucking listen to me! Go to Rangbatz, get Marlon, and come back in a hurry! Also, Conroy is gone, I don't want such a pathetic weakling around us anymore!"
"You fucking arrogant bastard! Don't disrespect me and my friend!"
Alma, red-faced with anger, grasps her saber's handle, and begins to draw her blade, but Julius kicks the bottom of the table with great force, shattering it in two with his metal shoes and sending wood splinters flying towards her face. Alma flinches backwards as Conroy gets up from his seat, and quickly retreats, but is too terrified to do anything else.
Julius, getting up from his sitting position, takes advantage of her distraction by gently throwing his metal tankard into the air, then shifting all his weight and throwing a hard left punch into it. The half-full tankard sprays it's alcoholic beverage across the room as it flies towards Alma. Not to be taken by surprise, Alma, in one motion, grabs her saber sheath and bats away the tankard, nearly hitting the waitress, who drops her serving platter and screams as the tankard smashes through the wall. Julius is pumped!
"Let's do this!"
Julius spins and sweep kicks one half of the recently smashed table with tremendous force, hurtling it towards Alma. Pissed at this barrage, Alma unsheathes her saber, swings, and bisects the already bisected table, sending the two pieces crashing behind her. Alma leaps at him, blade readied to slice him in two. With a grunt, she swings at his stomach, but misses as he dodges backwards. Julius rears his fist back, but is interrupted as Alma uses her extra momentum to smash her legs into his, tripping him. Julius falls on his back, but instinctively rolls backwards as Alma swings down hard, lodging her sword into the floorboards.
"Hey! Hey! Take your fight outside!" The proprietor of the pubb yells.
"Shut up!" Julius yells, making a quick recovery and throwing his knuckles at Alma. A hard clang is made as Alma unlodges her sword just soon enough to block the impressively hard fist. Alma is about to rear her sword back for another swing, but Julius follows up with his other hand, and smashes his next blow into the sword. Julius' pushes hard with his feet, quickly pushing him closer to Alma, to which he pulls his arm down, and then violently uppercuts her sword-hand. The force rockets her saber into the air, and drives it into the ceiling. Alma, stunned, open, and startled, can only watch in slow motion as Julius extends his right index finger and shouts.
"Armor Piercer!"
Where he then jabs his finger forward, into Alma's breastplate, which it penetrates easily.
"Gahah!!" Alma cries as his finger painfully wounds her stomach. Julius motions back his hand, aiming to finish the fight. His arm comes down with terrible force, only to smash into Conway's shoulder as he dives between them.
Conway grunts in pain as he hits the ground, shoulder thoroughly broken. Julius loses focus as he looks at the immobilized Conway, and Alma seizes the opportunity to throw her foot straight into Julius' stomach.
He stumbles backwards, Alma steps over Conway and throws a wild punch at Julius. He sways backwards instinctively, but another punch is already in tow, which he blocks. Alma is psyched, not even worrying about her wounded stomach, and just keeps madly punching, driving him back. However, Julius skill at unarmed fighting was evident as he easily dodges every blow. However, she keeps swinging, and eventually he's against the wall! She throws a mighty punch, aimed right at his head, but is easily dodged as she slams her fist into the wall, causing the whole pubb to shake.
A smug look forms on Julius' face as Alma grits her teeth angrily at him. She sees him shift his eyes though, his attention drifting from her, to above her. He lets off a quick whistle towards a spot at the ceiling behind her, causing her to quickly look behind her to see what's so interesting. There, her sword lodged into the ceiling, is right above Conway, and vibrating to the shock that Alma just gave the building. Julius smirks as he bends his leg up and kicks the wall behind him, sending shockwaves through the pubb again, rattling the saber loose. Alma's heart sinks as the saber's heavier blade points downward towards Conway, ready to impale the injured man. With a powerful jolt, she flies across the room and skids across the floor, her arm outstretched.