[S/C] Raven's Bane I

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

It was late, but the bar was full. Adventurers and Landers alike gathered within its walls. There was cheering, shouting, laughing, and even an argument sounding off. Waitresses danced around the floor, passing out drinks and food in their skimpy dresses. Behind the counter of the main bar, two men waltzed back and forth its long length, glasses and towels swirling around in their hands. It was quite the sight to behold, but it was one which was common around this time of night. The sun was lowering and many of the lower leveled Adventurers were coming back to Londinium, their days done. Now, it was time for the truly brave to move out into the fields. However, one man in the bar remained quiet. He sat alone in the corner of the bar, his arms folded kneatly in front of him as he leaned forward. His hood was pulled up, his mask adjusted higher than normal, and his cloak covered his weapons. The man was safe in the vicinity of the city’s walls, but there were many who would do whatever they could to get at him, except for one man. One man out of them all…

That man walked out from the backroom of the bar, his head held high and a smirk on his face. He scanned the bar, winking and waving at his regular patrons as he enjoyed the vision of his bar being filled up again. However when his eyes fell on the cloaked being in the corner, it seemed as though all of his joy faded. His eyes hardened and his smile turned into a frown. The man who sat there looked out from beneath his hood. Due to the lighting, they remained hidden but he could see just fine. A gentle wave caused the new face to walk towards him, and that was all he needed. The owner of the bar steadily made his way behind the counter, greeting many of those sitting at it as he passed them, but he stopped only once to grab a glass and fill it with water. He presented that glass to the shadowy man and placed it down on the counter. It remained where it was sat.

“Fancy seeing you here. Shouldn’t you be out fighting something?” The owner of the bar leaned back against the wall of the bar, his arms folding over his chest. The man in black only let out a huff as he pulled his scarf down. He snagged the cup and brought it to his lips. The water tasted refreshing.

“I should be doing a lot of things, but it all can wait. It’s been a while since I’ve stopped in this pit.” A smirk crossed the man’s face and he placed his glass down on the table.

“Good to know you think of my bar as a pit… Do you walk into every place you go and call it crap?” The owner let out a disgruntled sigh, but the other man didn’t respond to his question. As expected.

“Any new rumors?” The cloaked man closed his eyes and listened in on another conversation across the room for a moment; it seemed like there was a new Quest that had appeared on the outskirts of Londinium’s forest. Later, the man would send one of his underlings to check it out.

“Nothing you would be interested in. All of the new quests that have appeared around the city as pretty much the basic ones you would expect.” The news was disheartening, but the man in black didn’t just up and leave. He kept quiet and listened.

“There are a few that sounded fun though. One has to do with some girl losing her dog. If you find the dog, she gives you a good piece of food that boosts experience gain for a few hours. Another quest is from some old lady who makes you get roses for her husband. If you give her the roses, the husband gets mad at you and throws a knife at you that’s horrid, but if you give the husband the roses, he gives you an amulet that increases all of your stats by a few points.” The types of quests in the world varied, and getting the best rewards were never openly laid out. Much like the second new quest in town, finding an alternative solution generally yielded better rewards. In some cases, overachieving the quest also helped, but this wasn’t the information the man in black was after.

“You know that’s not why I’m here…” The water began to swirl in the glass as the man cupped it in his hands. The owner of the bar closed his lips together, his eyes shifted across the room. The other man simply raised his glass and sipped from the water.

“What can you tell me about this?” After taking a sip, the shadowed man produced a small piece of paper from the inside of his armor. On it was the head of a raven with a bloodied eye. The owner’s face turned to a scowl for a moment, but then he let out a sigh and returned the paper, folding it back up.

“So, there’s why you bugged me. That emblem belongs to the Guild, Raven’s Bane.” It was a new name, one that the man in black had never heard of before. He had been given the image by a player who wanted to hire him as a mercenary, but he had declined the job. Apparently, all the guy had to denote his killer was the emblem. Working off just the emblem would be useless if there was a whole group of people wearing it, which seemed to be the case.

“Raven’s Bane?”

“From what I’ve heard, it’s a group of Player Killers. They operate at night and target lower leveled players. Strangely enough, I’ve also heard that they’re a bunch of Landers.” Wait, what? People of the Lander killing Adventurers? That was impossible. Adventurers had far more assets to them in battle and they could sustain much more damage than a Lander while still being able to fight back.

“You’re lying.” It was the only thing the man could guess; the owner was lying to him. Unless there was some kind of trick involved, a Lander killing an Adventurer could never happen. Though, at being called such a demeaning name, the bar owner shot a hard glare at the man in black.

“I’m not the one who spoke the words, friend, I’m just the man who heard them. I don’t know much else. They attack at night, target lower leveled players, and they attack in groups. If you want to know more, I can bet that Cirna knows more. He’s more of a rat than I am.” After he spoke, the bar owner pushed off the wall and made his way over to the counter, planting his palms down as he leaned in to the man in black. He spoke in a whisper, his lips moving faintly.

“If you decide to meddle in this, watch your back. If these guys are who I’ve heard they are and they are taking out Adventurers, then we both know someone is helping them.” The words were a stern warning, but it was an unnecessary one. The shady man simply nodded and let out a huff. He knew the risks of what he did and there wasn’t any doubt in his mind that there was someone far more annoying than him behind all of this.

“I’ll let you know if I find anything else out. Keep an eye out for my bird.” The owner turned away from his shady friend and left to tend to his bar. With his information gathering done, the water glass was guzzled down and the scarf pulled back up to hide the man’s identity. Most people would have known who he was if they got a good look at him, but many of the current bar inhabitants were far too drunk to care. But before he outstayed his welcome, the man left the bar, his cloak pulled tightly around his body. Once he was outside, he slipped into the alleyways and vanished. It was time to find another old friend.

: Word Count :
1377

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

The market place was still alive, even as the sun had set. People mingled with one another, speaking of their daily glories, sold off fresh goods, new drops that fetched decent prices, and exchanged information about various zones. One man stood on top of a crate and entertained a dozen children with his tales of adventures. His words were a little stretched, but this man was quite a high level. Whether they were true or not was debatable. However, the shady figure which stepped out to the edge of the buildings overseeing the market strip didn’t look for the usual. His eyes scanned the street, hopping from one group of people to the next. To the blind eye, all was well, but his eyes weren’t clean. The man sighted pickpockets, men starving and sitting beside the alleys, and even saw one man hunched over; either he was dead or drunk. A light huff escaped the covered lips and his attention shifted in the other direction.

Once he did, his eyes caught on his target. In the middle of the street, walking within the shadows of the crowds, a young boy with a black bandana on his head skipped along. He hummed a tune in his throat and his arms danced happily by his side. He bumped into a few Adventurers in his trails, but quickly apologized after each bit of contact. The man atop the roofs began to track this boy, walking steadily along the edge of the buildings as he followed the young one up the street. The boy passed by fruit stalls, weapon shops, and even by a few beggars. All the while, his sticky fingers worked without hesitation. His actions remained unnoticed until a large burly man took a step forward from a wall. The young boy paused in his steps, glanced at the large man, and then darted in the other direction.

“HEY!” The large man shouted, but the boy was long gone already and vanished within the crowd. He reappeared for a moment as he ducked into an alleyway, and that was when the man from the rooftops took action.

As the boy ran down the alley, his jacket pulled tight around his body to keep it from wiggling too much, he never looked up. The man from above jumped down from the rooftops, bounced off the walls twice to push himself in front of the child, and then slammed down into the pavement. The boy stopped immediately and his eyes opened wide. Instantly, he recognized the cape and the hood. At the sight, the boy turned around and attempted to flee but the cloaked man darted forward and snagged the child by the nape of his neck, tugging on his shirts so that he couldn’t slip away.

“Lemme go! I didn’t do anything wrong!” The boy yelled and started to resist, but the grip was firm. He wasn’t going anywhere. A hard wiggle disoriented the child and he let out a grunt.

“Boy I could hang you upside down, shake you, and I can bet almost two hundred gold worth of items would fall from your pockets.” The words caused the boy to rumble and he finally stopped resisting completely. He sat down on his heels, lowered his head, and held onto his jacket. The man in black let go of his shirts.

“I’m not the royal guard and I certainly don’t care how you make your living, we both know that.” The angry hand which had snagged the child planted itself on the boy’s head and ruffled his hair. A light chuckle fell from the covered lips, but the boy only answered with a rumble before smacking the playful hand off his head.

“I would hope not, Mister Mercenary…” The boy turned around and stuffed his hands into his pockets, forcing his jacket to stay closed around his body. His eyes drifted up to look at the two clouded blue orbs looking back at him.

“It’s been a while, Saber. Didn’t Rika give you the boot?” The question made the man in black laugh. Rika? Give him the boot? Well, that was an interesting choice of words. He would have to pay that woman a visit.

“Rika couldn’t even give you the boot, kiddo. I’m looking for Cirna.” The Assassin knelt down and reached into the boy’s upper left pocket inside of his jacket. The young kid let out a shout, but the apple was already snatched up before he could stop the man. Saber pulled down his scarf and bit into the fruit a moment later.

“He’s still at the Cavern. Why?” The boy put on his pout face and stared at Saber as the Assassin bit at his apple. The man was more a thief than he was, and it annoyed him. Though, it had been Saber who had taught him a few tricks so he didn’t throw a fit or anything.

“Just curious. I need to speak with him.” Saber stood up and bit into the apple once more, his feet moving as he headed towards the market strip again. The little boy turned around and stared at Saber’s back for a moment, the gears turning in his mind. After a few seconds though, he hurried along and caught up to Saber. They stepped out into the street and headed to the right. The boy stayed near Saber’s waist and kept his head down as the two walked.

Due to their direction, they walked passed the fruit stand again. Saber walked strangely close to it, but only for a second; his cloak fluttered and he didn’t even blink. After he and the boy passed a small group of Adventurers, he tossed the younger body another apple. Saber smirked beneath his scarf and the young one smiled wide. Though, as they continued to walk, they ran into the burly man from before. He still stood beside the same stall he was at and upon seeing the boy, he stepped forward again. This time, however, Saber was much closer and could prevent a scene. All it took was one simple motion; his cloak opened and draped around the boy’s shoulders. The burly man’s eyes narrowed on Saber, but the Assassin simply took a bite out of his apple and walked by him without even making eyecontact. While passing the counter of the store, Saber placed his half eaten apple down on top of it.

The two walked for another few minutes, leaving the hustle and bustle of the market strip and headed into the quieter sections of Londinium. The further they walked, the sketchy things got. Where the two headed into looked more like a rundown slums of sort. Several Adventurers sat along the walls and in the alleys, their heads hung low. Several windows were boarded up, doors were latched closed, and a few hooded figures sat atop the roofs. Saber’s back straightened and he let out a soft rumble. The boy by his side lowered his head and kept walking. After a little while longer, they finally closed in on a building which looked completely horrendous, but there were two men standing by its single door. The boy finally raised his head as he and Saber closed in, and then ran ahead of the Assassin. The two men welcomed him, but scowled as Saber stepped towards them.

“Well, look who’s back from the dead…”
“Didn’t you run off with those high-horsed rats from the other side of the town?”

The two guards had their own opinions of the other players in the game, but Saber had seen both sides. He despised some people because of the privileges they had but he had earned his weight. He didn’t particularly care about anyone else either, which helped. These guys were the type who hated the game for trapping them in it, and hated anyone who did well in it; including Saber, even though he was once a scoundrel like they were.

“Get out of my way or I’ll hang you idiots from the nearest tree by your necks.” Saber let out a rumble and took the two steps up to the door. The boy opened it up without knocking and the noise from behind it suddenly filled Saber’s ears. There was shouting and yelling, burling laughter and giggles from women. The horrible music Saber remember came from the distant corner, the same place it had always been at.

Saber stepped into the run down bar and the boy skipped off across the room. The room was small compared to other bars, but it had all of the necessities. There were six round tables scatted about the floor with four or five chairs each. In the far left corner, there was a small stage for a band to play or for someone to speak at. In the right corner and along the back wall was the bar. Various types of freshly brewed alcohol lined the actual wall and chairs were set up in front of the counter. One man stood alone behind it, wiping down a glass with a towel. Beside the bar was a set of stairs leading up, with a door beneath them and behind the long counter. It was just the same as it was when Saber left it, except the faces had changed… slightly.

A few seconds passed of Saber standing there before the music came to a screeching stop. Several occupants of the bar, who remembered Saber, stood up and stopped their chatting. The Assassin’s lips turned into a flat line and he closed the door behind him, leaving the two guards to their duties. The boy ran across the room and up to a large, six foot tall, three hundred pound black fellow who had a woman on each of his thighs. They smiled at him while both feeding him and helping him drink. Though, his fun stopped as he realized why the room had grown quiet. His eyes first looked towards the band, then down at the boy as the young one ran up to him, and then finally across towards Saber. Silently, the oversized man pushed the girls off his lap and stood up, his oversized and sturdy chair sliding back almost a foot because of the power behind his feet.

“Ain’t that a sight…” The oversized man let out a mumble and stepped out from behind his table. All eyes fell on him as he walked across the room, his steps causing the foots to creak and the walls to shake. He towered over Saber with ease and his body was probably more than twice the size of the Assassin. But, as he stood in front of the much tiner man, the oversized human being did nothing. The two simply stared at each other. Finally, Saber pulled his hood down and pushed his cape back.

“It’s been far too long, my friend.” The massive arms came down like a tidal wave and wrapped themselves around Saber. The hug was kind, warm, and gentle as to not harm the smaller human being. Saber returned the gesture and did the best hug he could.

“Indeed it has, Cirna.” The two then shook hands before Cirna placed a hand on Saber’s back, his other hand extended in towards his distant table.

“Please, come in. Do not let the others shy you off.” Cirna’s lips pulled into a large smile, his pearly whites showing through. Saber shook his head and made his way across the room towards Cirna’s table, passing by the others without a word. Cirna clapped twice and the bartender nodded, preparing drinks for the two men. Cirna’s ladies stepped back and the boy took a seat on the stairwell. The two men sat down at the table in silence, but once they had, Cirna placed his forearms down and looked directly at Saber.

“How long has it been since you’ve come here? Weeks? Months?” Cirna seemed genuinely interested in Saber’s story, but the Assassin knew it was partially just a front. This man was just as powerful as his body showed, even though he was only a level thirty Adventurer. The people he surrounded himself with were powerful and they respected him because he respected them. Cirna knew how hard it was to live in the game for some players and gave them all a home, gave them work. Saber knew this because Cirna was the man who provided him with the network he now had. It was a dark part of his time in the game he never talked about.

“I’d say about two months or so. I was in my forties when I started freelancing.” The bartender approached the two men with drinks. He passed Saber a screwdriver and gave Cirna a glass of pure vodka. Saber’s drink gave off a yellowish glow, while Cirna’s was a flat clear.

“I see you have been doing well as such.” Cirna pointed up towards Saber’s level, and the Assassin nodded.

“I’ve heard about your activities around the city and out in the fields. Word on the street is that you killed a Raid boss all by yourself. Is this true?” Cirna picked up his glass and swirled the liquid in it for a few moments. Saber remained silent, responded with a meek shrug. Cirna’s lips pulled into a wide grin as he sipped at his cup. As it lowered down to the table, Cirna began to laugh

“You’ve always been bold! Always swiping up my most difficult contracts and coming back as if you hadn’t even broken a sweat. Having you as an ace was always nice, I always had someone I could count on.”

“It got old, Cirna. Being a mercenary and always helping others with their own adventures became boring after a while. I wanted to see the world for myself.” Saber lifted his own glass for a drink and took a sip. It burned as it went down his throat but he didn’t show it. God, alcohol was disgusting.

“Yes, and I can respect that. You paid your debts to me and you’ve never betrayed me or anyone else here, even when a few people turned against you.” Cirna’s eyes shot across the room towards a few of the others in the room, causing them to all turn back into their own conversations.

“I don’t blame them and I’m not one to hold any grudges or cause problems over them, just as long as the grudges stay between us.” Saber’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but Cirna shook his head and waved his empty hand lightly.

“You have nothing to worry about, my friend. Work is work and I doubt anyone would come after you because of their petty egos.”
You would be surprised, was what Saber wanted to say but he kept his mouth shut and simply took another sip of his drink. He felt his head spike a little. Man, he was such a lightweight.

“So, I can only assume that you aren’t here for small talk. For you to come here I can bet you have some kind of business with me.” Cirna leaned back in his chair and looked over at the boy on the stairs. The young man lowered his head onto his knees and frowned. Saber pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it across to Cirna, who picked it up and opened it; it was the image from the other bar.

“Holy...” As he realized the seriousness of the business, Cirna lowered the paper and stared at Saber with a concerned face.

“Where’d you find this at?” So, Cirna did know about it. Saber’s lips turned into a line and he leaned back into his own chair.

“I heard a rumor that there’s a group of player killers targeting Adventurers around Londinium. A little birdy told me that was their emblem. What can you tell me about it?” Saber kept his distance as he spoke but as Cirna leaned in, so did he.

“I don’t know what kind of suicide you’re trying, but this is one hell of a way to go out.” Cirna muttered, sliding the piece of paper back to Saber.

“If they’ve got you spooked then I’m definitely interested in it.” Saber smirked, but Cirna shook his head. He wasn’t kidding it seemed.

“Backroom. Now.” Cirna muttered and stood up, planting his hands down on the table. Saber nodded and made the paper on the table disappear. The others in the room glanced at the pairing, but didn’t say a thing as the oversized fellow and the Assassin headed behind the counter. Cirna opened the door beneath the stairs and let Saber go in first. When he followed, the bartender nodded.

Behind the door was a set of stairs which led down to an underground poker room of sorts. There was a store of extra booze along one wall, food crates stacked beside it, and a few sacks of grain on top of them. Weapons and armor, some of them stolen, were piled neatly along the opposing wall. A small doorway led to what could only be described as an “interrogation” room. There was a single chair in the center of the room and blood splatters all over the place. Saber didn’t go anywhere near it. He took a seat at the single table in the center of the main room. It was illuminated by a hanging lamp. Cirna quickly took a seat across from the Assassin, a heavy sigh falling out of his lips.

“Damn, Saber. You disappear after a contract and show up months later with this crap. The hell has gotten into you, man?” Cirna’s proper tone turned into one much heavier, but it was more down to earth and friendly. It was a comfortable tone, one someone would only use with a person they trusted.

“What do you want from me? I was approached by some guy in an alley two days ago with the picture. He said he would pay me anything I wanted if I killed the people who attacked him and his girlfriend. The guy didn’t provide any faces or anything, just that they had been attacked at night while on a stroll by a bunch of highwaymen.” Saber’s tone was much less friendly, but it wasn’t aggressive. He described his situation to Cirna and plead his case. Saber didn’t want to get involved but from what he had got from his other contact, these people had been active for a while and must have been causing a lot of ruckus. No wonder there were a lot more people in the bars at night.

“And the first thing you do is go around asking questions? Are you nuts?!” Cirna rumbled and barked at the Assassin. Saber’s eyes narrow.

“You think I’m just going to sit back and let a bunch of ragtag thugs attack players for no good reason?” Saber’s tone turned into a snarl. Cirna’s face started to darken.

“Says the guy who was one of the bloodiest mercenaries in the entire city for a month, I know the type of guy you are, Saber, don’t try to fool me. What did the guy offer you?” Cirna was right, sort of. Saber had done some gruesome things for money back when he was a lower level, but he was a changed man now, to an extent.

“I just told you. I turned him down.” Saber’s retort caused Cirna to sigh and shake his head.

“Then why are you still asking questions?” Cirna smacked his palms on the table and then crossed his arms. He seemed quite defensive.

“Because if it wasn’t as serious of a situation as it was, you wouldn’t have brought me down here!” Saber slammed his fist down on the table and let out a growl. The two powerful men remained silent, their eyes glaring as they stared at one another. But even in the quiet, one could feel the pressure in the room increasing until finally, Cirna sighed.

“Listen, Saber… This isn’t something you want to get tied up in…” Cirna’s muscles relaxed and he lowered his head. Saber continued to press.

“Why the hell not?” The Assassin snapped.

“Because I’ve already lost two of my message carriers!” Cirna yelled back, causing Saber to quiet down. The massive boom of Cirna’s voice was enough to shake the foundation of the building and quell even the rage of Albion. It was frightening.

“Cirna, I’m not here to fight you. I’m here simply because I want to stop whatever is happening. I don’t know what it is, but I’m here to fix i—“

“--And you can’t fix it, Saber. These guys aren’t your average, everyday thugs. They’re dug in deep, they’ve got contacts all over Londinium, and hands in almost everyone’s pockets. Hell, even I have to pay up every month. They’ve got dirt on every thug in the streets and they aren’t stopping there.” Cirna let out a heavy sigh again and placed his hands on the table, linking them together as he lowered his head.

“…They want all of Londinium and I can’t stop them…” Cirna’s voice was almost a whisper and the large man began to tremble. As he quivered, Saber finally realized something.

“Cirna… Where’s Hazel?” Saber spoke in a calm tone, Cirna stopped shaking. There was silence in the room.
“Cirn—“ Cirna raised his head as Saber started to speak. Tears rolled down from the corners of his eyes.

“They took her… They took her when she was out milking some of the Crag Cows…” At Cirna’s words, a fire lit in Saber’s stomach.

“What happened to her guards?!” Hazel was always protected by Cirna’s best soldiers. They were strong and high leveled and they never left the woman’s side except for the most extreme circumstances.

“I got their hands in a box a few days ago… Hazel’s gone… and they have her. They told me that if I tried to fight back, they would kill her in the middle of the main road coming into Londinium.” Cirna’s voice trembled as he spoke, and Saber’s hands curled into fists. Anger throbbed in his body as rage boiled his blood. But he couldn’t let it overtake him. The Assassin took in a deep breath and relaxed.

“Saber… I know you want to help, but you can’t.” Cirna’s words fell on deaf ears. Saber didn’t listen to all of that just to sit back and do nothing.

“I understand your fear, Cirna, but you have to trust me.” Saber leaned forward and placed his hand on top of his friend’s. Cirna frowned and stared into Saber’s eyes for a few moments, but he finally gave the Assassin a nod.
“I need to know what you know. All of it. Names, faces, places. I need to know everything.”

“Just promise me that you’ll bring me my Hazel back…” Cirna grabbed Saber’s hand with both of his, swallowing up the little palm between his fingers.

“I’ll do what I can. Now talk.” Saber pulled his hand back and Cirna took in a breath. He wiped away the streaks on his face and relaxed. Then, he began to speak…

“It’s a group called the Raven’s Bane. They’re a mix group of Landers and Adventurers based out of a city way up north; Edinburgh I think it’s called.” Edinburgh? Saber’s eyes furrowed at the name and he leaned back in his chair.

“That’s in Scotland. I thought Londinium was the only base for Adventurers?” Cirna shook his head as Saber spoke.

“When the Catastrophe happened, a bunch of people left Londinium and headed North. They wanted to get away from the horde of lost souls and useless people. I guess they went as far up as Edinburgh before finally nestling in. After a while, more people went up and it seems they’ve got their own large city there. They’ve even got a harbor with ships in it. It’s how they’re getting people to and from so quickly.” It would make sense, honestly. At the beginning, Saber left Londinium because he didn’t want to deal with anyone else and kept to himself. The idea that a bunch of others left too didn’t seem too farfetched, but to go all the way up to Scotland? There had to be more to it than that. There was no way someone would go that far just for some kind of freedom.

“A month or so ago, player killings began to crop up all around the borders of Londinium and in the lower leveled zones. They were people dressed in black wearing that symbol on their bodies and clothes. They even targeted Landers. Some people were kidnapped as well. A week ago, two of my messengers disappeared and then Hazel was taken away. I haven’t heard from any of them and none of the boys have seen them either.” It seemed as if the attacks were some kind of revenge plot, as if these guys wanted to get back at the inhabitants of Londinium for some reason. It would explain the name they chose, but of course things weren’t that simple.

“By the time anyone realized it, we were already powerless. There were scouts and sleeper agents all over the place. They were in every business, clean and dirty. I can’t even get a contract without having a portion of the reward being sapped. I’ve lost a lot of men because of it.” It seemed like sighing was Cirna’s thing today, which was understandable. His business had been crippled by the new and sudden threat, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Where do they normally hit?” At Saber’s question, Cirna raised his head and stared at the Assassin.

“You can’t be serious.” Cirna muttered, but oh yes Saber was quite serious. He was going to fight back, or at least gather some information.

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have asked.” Saber crossed his arms and the two men exchanged a moment of silence once more. Cirna opened up his menu and then pulled out a map of Londinium. He placed it down on the table and pointed at a small opening in the forest, just to the South East.

“There. That’s their hotspot. We call it the Dead Man’s Land now. Whoever goes there after eight at night is asking to get hurt.” With that, Saber stood up and placed a marker on his own digital map. Cirna’s eyes opened as he realized what Saber was planning.

“Whoa there! You aren’t thinking of going are you? And I sure hope not alone!” Cirna barked, but Saber’s mind was already set.

“If I don’t, who will? How many people have to be attacked before someone steps up to the plate, Cirna?! I thought this city was going to be alright so I got out of the pit. Then someone walks up to me and says they got jumped by a gang. You expect me to just sit by and watch?!” Saber snarled again, but Cirna didn’t put up a fight. Not only because there was no changing Saber’s mind, but because he knew what the Assassin was capable of. He had hired him, after all.

“Fine… But just don’t do anything stupid.” Cirna leaned back in his chair and placed his hands down on his knees. Saber let out a huff and turned away. There was no promising that.

“And Saber…” Cirna spoke up as the Assassin approached the stairs. Saber paused, but he didn’t look back.
“When you get up North, keep an eye out for the Owl Man. I hear he’s quite the chatty one…” The Raven’s weren’t the only ones with contacts all over the place it seemed.

Saber didn’t say anything to Cirna after that. He walked up the steps, out to the bar, and then left the building without a word. He left behind the chatting and the music and headed back out into the night. The Assassin pulled up his hood, draped himself in his cloak, and headed to the location he had designated on his map. He had some of the information he needed and he at least had a place to start now. All he had to do was follow through.

“Dammit…” Saber muttered and punched a wall as he turned down an alleyway.

: Word Count :
4728

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

The clock ticked by ever so slowly, but the cloaked figure took his time as well. Slow and steady, one foot ahead of another, the man marched out from London’s Gate’s and headed east, south east, and towards the point Cirna had been kind enough to point out to him. It was a bit of a trip from where Cirna’s hole in the wall was but it wasn’t as far as Sarum, that was for sure. Walking to that city and back three or four times in a day was tiring. However, he would have much rather taken that route than go to where he was heading now. It was called “Dead Man’s Land”, or at least that was what Cirna had called it. To Saber, it was just another dot on the map. Yet he had not doubted the other man before and the older, heavier set thug had not given Saber a reason to distrust him. So for now, he would continue to give Cirna his benefit of the doubt. Although as Saber began to approach the designated zone, turning off the main road and heading ot the right, the Assassin grew uneasy.

It was quiet, too quiet. The area the Assassin walked into was small circular space between some trees. The massive natural spikes stretched into the sky, towering over him and blocking out many of the stars. He could see the sky from where he found himself standing, but the moon was gone. It was dark, still, and the air was cold. Saber breathed deep, a chilled mist lingering just on the other side of his mask. It was a little colder than usual where he stood. The man checked his map, attempting to get his mind off the silence; he was right where he needed to be; Dead Man’s Land. On Cirna’s map, it was a large area which stretched towards the coast line but where Saber stood was where a hot point had been placed. It was blacked out on the paper map, and it was Saber’s target. Now that he was here, he simply had to wait.

But, even that he didn’t have to do for long. After just a few moments, shadows began to emerge from the tree line. The Level Ninety Assassin’s eyes narrowed and he glanced around himself slowly. A mix of red, blue, green, and yellow eyes pierced the dark shadows. Humanoid figures all stood together in a mass, but there were even a few animals huffing at the air. Three oversized boars, a large cat, and two men on horseback moved within the herd of shadows. Saber stood firm, his hands pushing back his cloak to expose his set of tools towards his opponents. As it fluttered behind him, the Assassin placed his hands on the hilts of his twin swords. They pulsed with a thirst he had not felt in a long time. Out from in front of him, an oversized man stepped forward, Saber shifted his gaze towards the large being; it was a Wolfhair adventurer. He stood at the limits of the system’s character creation process; seven foot, six inches, and had to have weighed almost twice of what Saber did. His muscles were thick, his chest was wide, and his thighs were like trunks. He carried two battleaxes over his shoulders. This Adventurer was a level seventy-one.

“You came to the wrong place, my friend…” The voice was a little higher than Saber had expected, but he didn’t care. All the Assassin cared about was the stupid smirk on the guy’s face. He walked and talked as if he had already won. Pathetic.

“No… It is quite the opposite.” Saber pulled on his blades, sliding the black objects slowly out from their housings. The hard leather sheathes wiggled slightly as the tips of the swords fell free. The Wolfhair let out a growl and reached back over his shoulders, gripping onto his two battleaxes. But just before he pulled them free, another man stepped forward from just behind him.

“Rurik, calm yourself.” The man was old, short, and looked as if a few more breathes would be his last. In addition, he was also a Lander. Saber straightened his stance as the Wolfhair snarled and took a few paces back. The old Lander stepped forward, his hands neatly folded behind him.

“What is your name, young man?” Ah, right. Saber looked young in this world. He was indeed young, but the time he had spent on the battlefield made him feel old. The experience clung to him like weight on his shoulders. It was oppressive.

“Who’s asking?” The response was curt, almost as if Saber was issuing a warning. The old man simply shrugged his shoulders. Not a single bit of fear was in his eyes.

“If you wish to be difficult, then have it your way. I was going to offer you a position amongst my Mercenaries, but I will retract my offer before I give it out.” The old man turned around and began to walk away. Saber’s eyes narrowed as the Wolfhair retrieved his twin battleaxes, the black and heavy weapons dropping to the ground at first because of their weight. This player was strong.

“Kill him. Relieve him of his equipment.” The old man’s orders were absolute. He waved a hand as if to signify the beginning of an operation and then continued to walk into the forest. Saber’s body tensed up and his eyes glanced to his left, back to his right, and then onto the Wolfhair. They herd stepped forward from the shadows, allowing the Assassin to get a brief look at their data signatures; Adventurers and Landers, all mixed together. Fantastic. That left him with a hard choice. Kill them all, or spare them all. Then again, did it matter?

“Come and try.” Saber twirled his two blades in his hands before taking an aggressive stance. His weight shifted, his grip wrenched down on the hilts of his blades, and his eyes slowly shifted from one group to the next. He didn’t have a choice it seemed like. The men around him were willing to fight to the death; he could see it in their eyes. The sounds of blades being drawn and the evil laughs did not help. The air was cold, the wind was still. A light mist lingered by Saber’s mask.

Well, it was time to have some fun…

: Word Count :
1075

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

The crowd collapsed like a mechanical wall, and there was no escape from it. Before Saber could even take in a breath, he had to move. His blades twirled, his hands squeezed down on their hilts, and his vision filled with red as his battle instincts kicked in. As if his brain had hit the ignition of a rocket launch, the adrenaline glands in the man’s body poured out liquid into his blood stream. Saber’s eyes narrowed and his teeth came to bare underneath his scarf. As the sound of footsteps behind him echoed in his ears, his feet shifted beneath him and the man avoided being sliced open by two men. His hips rotated, and he slammed his blades into one other sword, halting the advance of another player. With a hard kick, the Assassin created space. That was a mistake.

The instant the other player was pushed away; a massive cat-like beast surged forward and exposed its fangs towards Saber. It came at him at an extreme speed and roared furiously, its eyes glowed a bright red. The Assassin pivoted on his heels, shifted his weight, and leaned back and to the right. The massive creature passed in front of him, missing his face by inches. With a quick slice, the Assassin’s left blade ran along the cat’s side, carving a deep scar into its body. It slammed into the ground in a whimper and staggered away. Saber didn’t have time to check the damage dealt. A Lander swung a massive hammer at him, forcing the player to drop to the ground, slamming onto his back. The hammer came down a moment later. Saber swiveled his hips around, torqued his body back, and rolled over his head and to his feet to avoid the hit. His heels dug into the floor, he kicked back, and flipped over another blade as it swept at his knees. These guys were everywhere.

“Give in, Assassin!” A voice bellowed out as Saber landed on the ground loudly, his back to a tree. The right foot of the man pressed down onto a root and Saber’s teeth ground together angrily as he grew uncomfortable with where he was. He was surrounded on all sides and the shadows concealed the true number of unfriendly combatants. Even for Saber, it would be difficult to handle so many of them. However, they would have to kill him if they wanted him to quit.

“I said kill him!” The old man shouted, catching the attention of the higher ranking player. At the sound of his voice, Saber let out a huff. Killing every single other player and Lander would be impossible, so he needed another solution. Coming up with one on the spot would be difficult, but he had one thing he could attempt. His goal wasn’t to simply eradicate the entire group of Player Killers. No, his goal was to gather information, said information he had gathered enough of for the moment. The words of Cirna were true; there was a group of players killing others in the location predicted. However, the number of Player Killers was far more than expected. Saber thought there would only be five or six, not twenty to thirty and that was a fatal error, but one which would not consume him. As the group glared at him, Saber decided on his plan and lowered his swords, returning them to their sheathes. As he did so, a few of the others loosened up as well.

“Oh…? So you give up?” One man said aloud, grinning as he lowered out of his stance. Saber let out another huff. He was a bold man, but he was not stupid. With this many sentient enemies, he needed far more manpower to fight back.

“No, but I have got what I came for.” Saber’s eyes shifted from the crowd and his left hand twitched by his waist.

“What is he doing?! Attack him you fools!” The old man shouted and two men stepped forwards, as did one of their pet boars. The area grew quiet and still as the Assassin’s eyes slowly scanned the treeline… There. Saber took in a breath and his eyes drew closed. His chest raised and his body relaxed. He heard another step towards him. Then, the wind struck his back.

Saber’s left hand yanked a throwing knife from his thigh and launched the blade forward, an orange sigil burning on its edge as it screamed through the crowd. The motion was like a trigger, and the hostile beings threw themselves at Saber again. The Assassin activated another skill, Hazecloud Vault, and surrounded himself in a smoke cloud. Those who entered began to cough loudly. Saber ejected himself into the canopy above and snapped his fingers as his thrown blade penetrated the opposing treeline. His knife erupted into a bright fireball, illuminating the surrounding zone. Several feet to the left and back slightly, the old man covered his eyes. Saber’s eyes narrowed and he vanished. The smoke cloud began to clear, revealing that he had disappeared.

“What the?!” One man shouted as he looked around the area Saber had been standing. It was as if the Assassin had turned into the smoke itself. Rurik, the oversized Wolfhair Adventurer snarled and stomped loudly onto the ground.

“Find him!” The Wolfhair’s orders were echoed by the sound of a shout and whimpering. His head snapped to the right towards the location of the old man. Like a ghost, Saber stood behind the older man a blade pressed against the Lander’s throat.

“Leon!” Rurik shouted as he took a step forward. Saber took a step back and the blade tightened on the older man’s neck, squeezing the Lander’s windpipe slightly. The entire herd of murderous Landers and Adventurers froze in their steps.

“I’m going to ask nicely… and I’m only going to ask once…” Saber said aloud, his left forearm squeezing down on the Lander’s upper body, holding the man still even as he struggled.

“Who sent you all and why?” The question was simple and defiance shimmered in the eyes of every potential leader of the group. Even Rurik had that stupid look on his face, but Saber would not ask a second time. His blade’s edge began to cut into the Lander’s neck, poison dripping off the tip of his blade.

“We… won’t tell you a…anything…!” The Lander muttered as he glared towards the Assassin. Saber let out a huff and glanced towards the group in front of him. Indeed, he would get nowhere this way. The others were in the stronger position because of their numbers so they probably felt more in control of the situation. Thus, getting what he wanted out of them would be impossible even with a hostage. However, Saber didn’t plan on having a hostage in the first place.

“Suit yourself.” With a rip, Saber sliced the throat of the lander. Poison poured into the man’s veins as blood spurted out of the wound, splattering onto the ground and trees. It leaked out onto Saber’s cloak and shirt. The others quickly charged him to rescue the old man but it was far too late. His job done, Saber kicked the old man away and then threw his knife into the Lander’s lower back. Another orange sigil burned brightly on its edge. Upon impact, the weapon self-destructed. Saber vanished as the explosion severed the Lander’s torso from his lower body.

: Word Count :
1242

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

As the explosion began to dissipate, the oversized Wolfhair sprinted over to the dead body of the Lander. There was no sign of life, no movement, and not even a chance that the man could be resurrected or healed. The Lander’s throat was cut, his body blown into two pieces at the hip, and his face was bloodied from the hard fell he took. Burns laced his back and his clothes were tattered. The scene of carnage made Rurik’s stomach twist and he felt sick; he could even smell the cooked insides of the dead man. It was disgusting. The images, the sound of the flesh tearing, and the smell of it burning was engraved into his mind. Rurik felt helpless, and as that feeling sapped away his strength he felt to his knees. That Assassin… He came like a ghost and left behind such terror without even breaking a sweat… Who was he…?

“R-Rurik… What do we do…?” One of the underlings trembled behind Rurik as the Lander’s body began to glow. The game world was taking away the dead, as it always did, but this death would not be replaced. Their VIP was gone, for good. There would be no more playful jokes, no more banter, no more late night drinks. There would be no more parties, no more missions, and no where for Rurik to call home. The man who had taken him in and treated him like a son in the lost, unknown world was now dead. And right before Rurik’s eyes, that man burst into a wave of bubbles and vanished into the night sky.

“…ghost…” Rurik muttered as tears tugged at his eyes. One of the underlings behind him tightened his hands into fists for a moment, but then turned around to the group behind him. They all looked on with lost eyes, confused emotions, and even tears flowed on some faces.

“Everyone gather up! We’re going back to the port! Hurry up! Let’s go!” The lowleveled Adventurer shouted, but as he did, Rurik slammed his fists into the ground and leaned forward. His face twisted with mixed emotions; hatred, sorrow, despair, jealousy. The Assassin took the one man he cared about from him, his only family in this strange world but the other player had done so with ease. Such power, such strength! It was absurd! He had made such a split second decision while cornered and had moved so easily that it made Rurik look like nothing but a stray, toothless dog!

“No!” Rurik said, his mind unraveling right in front of his own eyes. The Wolfhair pushed himself up to his feet and kept his fists clenched. His teeth ground together and he snarled as he stared into the forest ahead of him. That Assassin, he wouldn’t get away with this!

“Rurik, listen. I know you’re upset but the Elder is gone. We have to notify the Circle.” The same underling who had decided to take action and spout an order now challenged the unstable Rurik. The Wolfhair did not take this lightly and turned to glare at the much shorter Elven being. Was it mocking Rurik? Did he not care that the closest man to their father had just died?!

“That man just killed Leon! And you’re going to let him get away?!” Rurik turned to face the Elf and took a step forward, but the Elf remained where he stood, shaking his head.

“No, I won’t but if we chase him now, we’ll fall right into his plans. He wants us to chase him, Rurik. If we chase him, he can pick us off just like he did Leon. Plus, you saw him; he was pretty much a damned shadow. We couldn’t see him until it was too late. If we chase him here in the forest, we’ll never find him until he attacks us and by then it’ll be too late.” He’s right. That Assassin vanished into the air like it was nothing. It was as if the shadows themselves were his tools to use. It was scary how easily he moved within them without being detected.

“We’ll get him back another day. Once we tell the Circle about what happened and who we’re dealing with, they will deal with it, but for now we have to head ba—“

“And what if they don’t?” Rurik snarled, causing the Elf to become silent. A light sigh escaped the other Adventurer’s mouth and he lowered his head for a moment. After a few moments, he finally looked back up and placed a hand on Rurik’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Then we will follow you and get our own payback… But for now, we have to go back.” After a few seconds of silence and hard staring between the two players, Rurik’s hands finally relaxed. Rurik lowered his head and caved to the other man. The Elf gave the Wolfhair a gentle pat on the shoulder before looking towards the others. His hand lifted off Rurik’s shoulder and then his finger spun in the air; gather up. They were going home.

Rurik gave one last look down at the spot where Leon had fallen and at the items which lay there. As the others gathered their things and began to head back to port, Rurik picked up the fallen items of his sit-in-father, depositing them all to his inventory. There was a flask, clothes, and a pendant. Said pendant, Rurik equipped and then tucked beneath his armor. His Elven comrade let out a brief whistle, alerting Rurik that everyone was moving, and the Wolfhair responded with a nod. He gave one more look into the direction of where the Assassin had fled and his blood began to boil again. However, this time he tore his eyes away and forced himself to turn his back. The Assassin would get his just desserts later, but Tenalier was right. They had to go back, so he followed his allies.

That morning, as they approached the outskirts of the small port city of Margate, Rurik looked out the back of the horse-drawn carriage he sat in and glanced up towards the sky; it was sunrise. The sun burned a deep red color and it made Rurik frown. This was no dream, Leon was gone and his mission had been failed. They were so close to success, so close to taking Londinium, and now it was all for naught. Rurik knew what would happen now. He would contact the Circle, they would summon him, and he would be imprisoned. There would be no backlash for what the Assassin had done because Leon was just another pawn to them, like Rurik. He had failed to protect one of their pawns and now he would suffer for it.

Just as Rurik thought he might get some sleep finally, his ears chimed and a screen appeared in front of him. It was Wayhair; the driver of the lead carriage in their caravan. Rurik considered ignoring the call and feigning sleep, but he wouldn’t. He had to be strong for his brothers and sisters. Until the Circle passed judgement, Rurik was still the second-in-command. With Leon gone, he was now the sit-in leader. He had to act like one, not like someone who had been beaten and left to cry in their sorrows. So he answered.

“Yes, Wayhair?” Rurik could guess what the call was about, but he let the other man speak. The responding voice was soft and nearly void of emotion; he was sad.

“We’re approaching Margate, Sir. Ten more minutes and we’ll be at the gates. The Guards have seen us and opened up. Should I arrange for the boats to be ready?” Wayhair was trying to keep busy, like most of those who were still awake. As Rurik looked around, he noticed that nearly all of those with him still had their eyes open; they probably didn’t want to sleep and potentially relive it all. Those who had indeed fallen out didn’t seemed to have done so comfortable. One man was crying as he dreamed.

“Not yet. I still have to contact the Circle. They will tell me what we should do next, whether it is to stay here on standby or return to Edinburgh.” As Rurik spoke, he looked out the back of the carriage. There was no response from Wayhair at first, but the man finally spoke up again.

“Yes Sir.” Once he had spoken the two short words, Wayhair himself ended the telepathic call. Rurik closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He was tired, oh so tired. Even though the group hadn’t even killed anyone that night, everyone seemed to be in some kind of rut. But that was understandable. With Leon gone, the man who had brought them all together, they didn’t have any kind of connection to the world they lived in. Hell, they all left Londinum at some point because they couldn’t stand the calm and quiet air. None of them could understand how other players were coping, living, and surviving in a world which had kidnapped them all. Rurik was no different.

The first day Wolfhair spent in the world of Elder Tale, he had spent it running. He ran away from Londinium. He ran away from his old friends, from everything he knew, and he ran for hours. He never stopped and as he ran, he cried. He cried for hours. Why was he here? Why was he taken from his mom and dad, from his little sister? Why him? Why? Rurik eventually found himself stumbling into Margate after a few days of fighting in the forests and scavenging. When he showed up, he found himself surrounded by other players like him. They were people who didn’t know anything, who were afraid, scared, and who wanted to go home. They all hated the world they were in because of how it had stolen them from their real lives. They were all like Rurik.

And then he appeared. Like some kind of holy angel who was sent from the heavens, Leon stepped off a ship and opened his arms. He took in all of the wary Adventurers. He gave them all a home, gave them all a purpose, and most of all; he gave them all a friend. Leon was everything to the Adventurers in Margate. He was their leader and their savior. And now, as if a thief had stolen a precious, priceless gem; he was gone. The caravan returned to Margate that morning, silent and empty. No words were shared, no songs were sung. It was a depressing sight.

: Word Count :
1775

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

The Caravan in the distance began to fade, but Saber kept moving. His feet pounded the tree limbs beneath him at a steady pace, even as fatigue covered his entire body. He felt as if he was going to faint, but he didn’t stop. The Assassin had been through worse and right now, he couldn’t let the caravan out of sight. If he did, Saber wouldn’t have been able to track them any further. He could have switched subclasses and returned to being a Tracker, but it was too late now. Any potential targets were out of range and they were just beginning to crest a hill on the horizon. However, that hill was also another reason why Saber wasn’t extremely disgruntled about his slower pace. There was only one road so far and due to the smell of salt in the air, Saber knew that the destination wasn’t much further. The forest was also ending, which would give him a wide view of the area up ahead.

Thus, Saber moved forward. The caravan disappeared behind the hill top just as the Assassin jumped out of the forest and onto the field beside the road. He moved like a speeding rabbit, taking in step in long strides to help with his fatigue and to keep his breathing down. He could have closed his strides to speed up, but his race was that of endurance today. However, he had been moving for several hours now with barely any breaks; he was tired. As he began to crest the hill, that tired feeling slowly started to wrench down on him. Saber’s pace dropped dramatically and he happily began to slow himself. Sweat dripped off his brow and the layer of clothing against his body was drenched in the disgusting liquid. Yet, as he stepped over the hill top and gazed down towards the port city below; any doubts he had were washed away. It was a new location, one he had never seen nor heard of before, but it was where he was going.

The Assassin stood there, breathing heavily as he watched his target caravan trot towards the city’s gates. The doors opened early, allowing the horses and carrages entrance to the walled town. Saber couldn’t see where the caravans would be going beyond that gate because of its size, but he could see the harbor. There were a few small ships docked, simple ones, but there were also two larger ones. They reminded Saber of old colonial ships of sorts because of their wooden hulls and large sails. The sight made him wonder; were they made by Adventurers? Or were they made by the People of the Land? It was hard to tell from where he stood but Saber could see that the port was busy. Black shapes and silhouettes moved to and from the decks of the ships, moving large objects both on and off of them. Saber wanted to see more and wished he could from where he stood, but he was just too far.

“’Ey!” A voice echoed out from Saber’s right, causing the Assassin to pull his eyes away from the port city. His left hand instinctively slipped onto the hilt of one of his daggers and he squeezed it, but as he saw who had called out to him, he relaxed.

There, just a few meters off on the actual road, was a small horse drawn cart. It was open and had several different types of goods in the back of it, some tall, some small, and some covered up with a trap. However, what Saber found the most strange about the little cart was the man sitting in the front at the helm. He was a simple looking fellow. He had fair skin, thick brown hair, was tall and skinny with just enough muscle to get by with, and had himself dressed in basic clothes. There wasn’t anything extremely vibrant about the man, but such a boring outlook told Saber much about him. For one, he was not paid. This man was a simple merchant making a living with whatever wares he could trade. He was young, but wasn’t a child and had probably seen a few winters on the roads. The look of his horse showed that the creature wasn’t young either, but he was loyal. The cart was the only thing in the picture which showed use. The wooden wheel object was patched up in many places, cracked, and even had some patchwork done to it. This man had been on the roads for many years it seemed.

“You lost?” The man shouted again after a few seconds of Saber just staring at him. The Assassin glanced back towards the city for a moment. No, he wasn’t lost. He was just locked out.

“That city…” Saber returned, raising a hand and pointing towards the port town. After a second of directing, he turned his head towards the man in the cart.

“…What is it called?” The question seemed to blow up the traveling merchant’s mind. It was as if he had just met someone who had never heard of Margate for the first time in his life. Then again, the man probably didn’t pay much attention to other travelers like Saber. Saber never did when he wandered about. Yet, this man also seemed intrigued.

“That city, my friend, is the city of Margate! One of the few sustained port cities on this wretched rock! Have you never been there?” The man shifted in his seat on the cart and turned to face Saber a little more as he spoke. At the same time, Saber made his way closer to the new face. He seemed friendly enough.

“No, I have not.” Saber answered without yelling, as he now stood only a few paces away from the cart. His response caused a smile to cross the merchant’s face. It also caused the man to shift in his seat. The merchant grinned down towards Saber and patted the wood just off to his left, as if motioning for Saber to join him. At first, Saber didn’t move.

“Well, you won’t ever go if you don’t actually keep walking. You seem tired so let me take you the rest of the way.” The Assassin hesitated at first, but there was sincerity in the other man’s voice. One he could not shake so easily. The smile on his face, the unshaking hand, and the relaxed posture. This man was not an enemy. He was a genuine working man, and that was something Saber respected. With an outstretched hand, Saber grasped the Merchant’s hand and squeezed it tight as he climbed up onto the cart.

“My name is William, William Roster.” The cart groaned as Saber sat down beside the other fellow. Due to their closeness, a display screen appeared in front of Saber to alert him of who the other man was. It was cheating, but Saber didn’t let it disturb their conversation. The man he now sat beside was a Lander, a level seventy three one at that which Saber found quite strange but he did not ask any questions.

“And yours?” William scooped up the reigns of his horse into his hands, holding them firmly before giving them a light snap. His horse obeyed to the gentle motion and casually began to trot along, dragging the new passenger along with him. Saber’s nose wiggled a little. This was the first time he had ever let himself be carried, per say. Ever since he started in this new world, he had never let his own feet off the ground by any means other than his own. It was both a strange and a relaxing feeling.

“I am Saber.” The short, singular name made William whistle sharply. Saber glanced over to see him grinning. The man’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

“An Adventurer! Ah, it must be nice to be so free, isn’t it?” William glanced towards Saber, his smiling unwavering as the two’s gazes met. Saber let out a huff and looked back towards the city of Margate. Free? Saber was not free. Not at all. He was chained to this world, but he could see where it was easy to mismatch their “freedom” with true freedom. Unlike William, Saber could go wherever he wanted, do what he wanted, and never had to care about anyone else if he chose to. Sure, that could be called freedom.

“I guess.” Saber said in almost a mumble, but William continued to smile. The Lander sat up straight as if he held no burdens, even though he looked as if he had every right to be sad because of how he lived. Saber doubted that William owned anything other than his horse and cart.

“You must have seen much… I wish I could have…” The words William said, as well as the lightness attached to them, gave Saber the exact opposite impression as what the Lander’s level said. William’s level denoted that he had survived much, gone to many places, and had proved his worth in the world. How strange.

“Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t.” Saber kept his words short, but William’s soft rumble made the Assassin also wanted to keep talking.

“But, I bet you still look back. Don’t you?” That was true. Many times, Saber found himself remembering things he didn’t want to. It was a painful thing, but something his mind seemed to do on its own as if it was forcing him to never forget. It made him sad whenever that happened and all of the weight seemed to come down on his shoulders when it happened. It was like a curse.

“It’s not always a bad thing, you know.” William said as he looked over towards Saber. The Assassin’s eyebrows furrowed lightly and he glanced over towards the Lander. If it wasn’t a bad thing, then why did Saber always feel terrible when he remembered those bad memories?

“And why is that?” As he asked, William turned his eyes forward. It was almost like he expected Saber to ask because a smirk crossed his face right after the question had been stated.

“Because. If we forgot all of the painful things, all of our mistakes, or all of our enemies; we wouldn’t know what not to do, how to succeed, or who to apologize to on our death beds.” William’s response made Saber frown. It was a strange outlook, but one Saber could agree with. Though, apologize? Why should Saber apologize to people who were enemies of his…?

“And why would I apologize to my enemies?” Saber adjusted in his seat. The wood was a little rough, especially when they went over some of the bumps.

“Without enemies, we would have no reason to be strong but we live our lives hating them. It’s a pitiful thing we do.” The Lander made a good point and Saber nodded lightly as he agreed, but without enemies Saber wouldn’t have had any headaches. Then again, without enemies he probably wouldn’t have had anything to do.

“So, what brings you to Margate?” William asked, glancing over towards Saber as he did so. Saber huffed and smirked beneath his scarf, sitting upright. His eyes narrowed on the gate as they approached it.

“Enemies.” He said curtly, causing William to stare at him for a moment. Though, after a few seconds he turned his own eyes forward towards the port city. A single huffing laugh came out of the Lander’s mouth as he smiled again.

“Well, at least we have one thing in common.” William’s eyes lit up again as he stared towards Margate, while Saber’s remained dark.

: Word Count :
1949

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M