"One might call these woods a veritable death trap. If some wild monster doesn't slay you, the bandits around the edge will get you going in or coming out, one or the other." The bartender stopped suddenly.

The bartender glanced around his tavern nervously, as if mentioning the term 'bandit' would label him as a hindrance to their work. He looked back over the bar and kept polishing the spherical glass in his hands, then he looked back up to the man in clad green robes sitting on the stool.

"I do know that there are two men staying in the Woodland Retreat Inn across the street, they came in here yesterday asking if I knew anyone who needed to buy protection."

The man in green sat silent, his thick jaw and motionless lips were the only things to pierce the darkness of his golden trimmed hood. A few strands of gray hair drifted down as well, slowly and lightly flowing with the air currents about the tavern.

"Well, " The bartender continued, "I told them that I didn't know anyone, and they said to put their names out if anyone did need it."

The man in green finally broke what seemed to be his eternal silence by spouting, "And you think I need it?"

The bartender chuckled a bit and then added, "No, no, but I was going to let you know that the offer was there. They seemed like fairly hardy warriors."

"And you say that I should allow some 'fairly hardy' warriors into my elite guardsmen?"

The bartender was baffled and slurred many words at once, trying to correct himself and apologize at the same time, much of it was impossible to make out, but the end came out as, "My apologizes, but exactly whom am I talking to that has an elite guard?"

The man in green slowly lifted his hood back. His solid chin lead up into a stout set of rigid cheekbones and eyebrows. The face was chiseled like a stone, and pale as could be. He appeared almost fake, except for the parts of his facial features that he choose to move. His eyes were a light blue, almost a clear color, with a slight dark blue texture glazed over the iris. His hair was light gray, and ran down his back under his cape. The man's green cape fell lightly over his massive shoulders, and the hilt of the sword strapped on his back seemed to erupt from over his head.

The shattering of glass was the only sound heard then. The bartender stood speechless before him, unknowing of what to say or do. The man in green shot a quick glance at the bartender, then his quivering hands, and finally to the shattered glass on the floor. He smirked, and headed for the door.

On his way out, he pitched in a light, "Thanks for the tip, bartender."

He exited, his cape struggled for freedom from under his large sword, and what parts were out from under it waved gingerly at the bartender as they left.

One of the bar maids ran to the bartender, who had to sit down.

"Who was that man, John?"

"That man..." The bartender stuttered, "Might be the death of us all. He's the leader of the Doom March, the Second Baron..."

The barmaid turned pale as she sputtered, "Baron Perenolde?!"


Meanwhile....

"Come on Clymain..." Kale stated bluntly as he bounced from foot to foot.

Kale stood about 5'11". A nimble charactor, his choice of armor was a custom fit black plate mail chest plate, but he never wore a helmet. The arms and legs were changed entirely to chain mail for more maneuverability with his weapon. His weapon was unique to say the least. A chain, on one end, a medium, double sided axe, light and perfect for throwing. On the other end, a medium sized hand scythe, also good for throwing. Each could also be used for hand to hand combat, and the chain could also assist him in that area, too. His eyes were a piercing dark blue color. His hair was long to just past the ears and his upper lip. A very defined plane of facial features reside behind the veil of dark brown hair.

"Yeah, yeah, little buddy, on my way." Clymain stated with a slight humor echoing in his voice.

Clymain was about 6'5". His choice in armor and weaponry was different from Kale's entirely. His armor was a thick, almost impenetrable suit of black plate mail armor. He also preferred not to wear a helmet. His weapon was called a Gorebaton. Something like a curved, medium sized staff. it had two grips on the wood itself, and pointing outward was one, long, solid blade that ran from end to end. With this, several dozen smaller, dagger like points sprang forward from the staff past the original blade in a seemingly random order and ran the entirety of the staff, protruding out on the sides as well. This is a Gorebaton. His eyes were a dull brown, but his hair was a bright blonde, making him stand out everywhere except the darkest of night.

The man decked in heavy clad plate mail walked slowly out the door, adjusting his gauntlets as he came. Kale bounced eagerly in the street, grasping each of his respected weapons in each hand, the chain was wrapped around his right hand several times, but still loosely bounced before him, slightly off beat with the pace he had set.

"Clymain, aren't you excited? Its work, and we are going through Creador Forest." Kale said as he quit bouncing.

"Of course I'm happy to get work but, " He stopped, tightened his Gorebaton to his back before adding, "I don't know if we should trust a Baron, especially with all the political stress going on right now."

"Come on Clymain, at least we get to kill stuff." Kale said tossing back with head with a laugh, slinging the hair out of his eyes.

"Unless we get labeled as members of Doom March." Clymain said as he began heading down the road.

"Well, its only one mission, and we'd get paid pretty well from a Baron." Kale said optimistically.

"Or killed after we are no longer of use." Clymain added, cocking an eyebrow to his companion.

"Well, let them try, then we can pawn all the wealth they have on them." Kale smiled brightly.

They walked the path down to the edge of Creador Forest. There, they found a caravan. Two carriages and a wagon full of supplies. With them was roughly 20 men, armored to the teeth and equipped with assorted weapons, mostly pikes. A large man with a green cape and a dark green sword on his back stood beside the wagon, talking with what looked like the captain of his guards about the wagon's load. As they approached, one of the guards shouted, "Bandits! Attack!"

Kale now had his scythe on his right hip and the axe on his left, unarmed. He raised both hands and announced, "Hey, we were hired to come here, no weapons see?"

Still, three of the elite guard charged. One had a sword and a shield, one with a halberd, and the third with two axes in hand.

Clymain reiterated, "No weapons, we mean no harm."

The men charged anyway, screaming at the top of their lungs, they couldn't here the captain screaming at them to halt. He had just drawn his sword when the Baron raised his hand and whispered something to the captain, who then put his sword up as they both observed the men.

The halberd guard took a strait down vertical slash as Clymain. Clymain avoided it with ease, stepping to the side as the guard planted his blade into the hard earth. The guard pulled twice before looking up to Clymain, his vision quickly began spinning as Clymain kick him in the head, cutting him at least two, sideways flips before he landed flat on his back.

Meanwhile, Kale had been trying to talk sense into the other two, steadily dodging their attacks while trying not to draw his weapons. Then, he backed up once to avoid a dual slash from the axe guard, and the other slammed his shield into Kale's left leg. Kale toppled, landing flat on his back, as he looked up, the axe guard was in the air coming down. Kale whipped out his axe and scythe with blinding speed and locked weapons with the guard as he landed on Kale.

"Okay...your way...it is..."

With that, Kale kicked the guard over him, and bounced to his feet. He threw his axe up at the last second to deflect an oncoming sword blow. He thrust his hand up, and the sword spiraled into the air. The guard watched it in stupidity, and Kale took the chance to deliver a jumping kick into the awed guard's helmet. He dropped his shield and collapsed to the ground, holding his now dented helmet. Kale turned to see the other charging him again. Kale reared back and slung his scythe with everything he had. The guard was slightly more aware than the other two, but still caught off guard. He swatted the scythe upward with his left axe, but the scythe spun around the handle and shot down, almost hitting him in the head. He jerked back, surprised, but not near as surprised as when the axe leapt from his hand, wrapped in the chain, landing inches in front of Kale, who had one hand back, chain in grip. The guard grasped his remaining axe with both hands as Kale unraveled his chain from the axe's handle and dropped it on the ground, then took up his own axe and scythe yet again. The guard charged once more, and Kale grasped the chain so it was tight between his fists. The guard took a horizontal swipe at his midsection, but Kale jumped back and extended his arms out, right over left, axe and scythe still in hand. The axe hit the chain on the handle once again, and Kale quickly wrapped the chain around it. Kale then spun to his left, the chain over his shoulder now, and slung his opponent's weapon as hard as he could. It spiraled into the air and off into the woods, where cracking twigs and branches were then heard.

Kale turned and stared at the dumbfounded and unarmed guard, he gripped his scythe and axe even tighter as he took a step towards the guard with a severe look of premeditated malice on his face.

"That is enough." A bold voice erupted form a carriage.

Kale and Clymain glanced to the carriage to see a green robed man sitting inside, smiling. Though his hood covered the bridge of his nose and up, his defined jaw and devious smile rang out of the carriage almost as sound.

"Very impressive, though I doubt those were my best of the best, you are still formidable. Shall we proceed? One of you ride in the other carriage, and one of you on top of the wagon with two of my men. Your choice on who gets what, but hurry, we should make haste."

"Kale, you can sit in the carriage, no problem by me." Clymain said immediately as they both started walking towards the caravan, the three guards slowly walking behind them, ever keeping their distance.

-Tell me what you think guys, I may be a bit rusty- CHB