“But sir, how can we just give up? Are we not tasked by God with educating the infidels?”

“We simply can’t afford to keep pushing this campaign any longer, fortunately for us the situation seems to be mutual.”

“No, clearly this must be a test of our faith! If we press now, when all is made to seem as it is without hope, surely the Lord will shine on us and grant us our success in bringing enlightenment to…”

“Jysalef, please just shut up… That’s an order!”

“…”

CHAPTER 1: “Of Better Temperament”

As he sat there, still uncomfortably covered in a most unlikable mixed soup of both his own sweat and fluids that had previously belonged to ex would-be local trouble causers, the now vagrant thought for but a moment to times when he had formerly been in employ of the greatest military that this land had formed for what was supposed to have been the most noble of all causes. But those days – when he would have been sitting after a fight in the military barracks with the commander he used to look up to without question – were long past; no, these days - after a fight of far less bard worthy proportions - he would find himself sitting in a poorly lit tavern that was assuredly less clean than military specifications would have allowed.

Some things – though - never changed; among other things the sword still seemed to need just as much upkeep, even though this was minus the hollow prestige that was present in the past. The act of re-edging and polishing the blade did little to deter thoughts of the past; no, that was what the younger person travelling with him was for. Before he could truly begin to start dwelling on the greatest cause that apparently wasn’t, a cocky declaration came from said companion that instantly halted all such reverie.

“Sir, I think it’s safe to say that with the display we just put forth that if there are any leeokas left in the area that it’ll be a long time before they consider setting forth foot in this town again, eh?”

“Terus,” began the man with a roll of his eyes, “While I certainly won’t fault you on your drive for learning the sword, or the fullness with which you threw yourself into the fray, a roaming horde of skulking leeoka looking to filch a meal is hardly a proper test. Boy, if you ever got into a real fight, I worry about what would happen to you with your slipshod style.”

“But sir,” Terus protested.

“Don’t but sir me, boy. When I agreed to take you on as a ward, it was because of a debt to your father. I respect him far too much to let you get big of yourself on such an easy clean up; else wise it’d be my hands that your blood would eventually be on the first time you got into a real fight.”

Terus groaned, “But Mister Soresh, I’m not incapable…” the lad then muttered to himself, “Not anymore, anyways.”

Well, that was definitely true to an extent. The first time he had been handed a sword for the purposes of instruction, they had had found themselves not much longer thereafter at the house of a nearby physician where he got a good deal of stitches on the back of his right leg that he had self inflicted. He was much more capable in using a sword now, to be sure, but the one he called Mister Soresh could still knock that sword out of his hand in less than a minute when sparring.

Now to be fair, Jysalef Soresh could do a lot more than that to a man in much less time still if he was trying in earnest. Sure, random thieves and roving beasts did not have anywhere near the talents of Terus’s instructor, but there were people of a far less agreeable extent in this world today that could easily match Jysalef when it came to swordplay for keeps. It was invariable that such a thing would be true when an entire nation had let many legions fall apart all at the same time, especially when it had let all of those legions fall apart because it was essentially a bankrupt nation.

A world with very talented, but also hungry, men where every gold coin counted dearly would always be a place where one had to expect that they could run into a truly bad scrape at any time. Still, to be fair again, not every soldier from the legions that fell apart was an actual prime example of prowess with the steel. For the most part, so long as it was only one on one, Jysalef did expect that perhaps Terus might hold his own against his opponent. However, the term ‘band of thieves’ had the word ‘band’ in it for a reason.

As for the flip side of the coin that represented the problem with Terus’s confidence, the lack of a real standing army had greatly allowed the beasts of the land to flourish. Skulking humanoid things such as a leeoka, normally insignificant carrion scavengers, could – with their claws - prove a problem to the village larder if allowed to roam around unchecked. However, much like the thieves that Jysalef did not value as better fighters than his ward were not the only blade carrying threats you could potentially meet while on the road, there were also these days much more fearsome creatures allowed to roam the lands freely thanks to the lack of any formal military structure.

“I know you’re not incapable, boy, I am merely stating that you’re not capable enough to be bragging.”

Terus would have launched a scathing query about when exactly he would have been so ready, but at that time a barmaid approached the table in their corner of the bar. This was, considering that they were percolating in a soup of sweat and the yuck from leeokas, possibly a heroic act. To approach Jysalef and Terus was invariably an invitation to smell the smells of their recent victory that still clung quite tightly to them, and at the moment it didn’t take too far a stretch of the mind’s logic processes to realize they didn’t exactly smell of roses.

Roses from hell, perhaps…

“Masters Soresh and Kyreon, your baths have been drawn and…” the barmaid’s face twisted slightly as she continued her legendary effort to keep a straight face in front of them, “… and your rooms have been laid out.”

Jysalef hissed out under his breath, “I just cleaned up this town’s leeoka problem, before which I already had not eaten for the last three nights, and I will be damned if I am moving from here until I get something to eat.”

The ex-problem with the leeokas was why the barmaid was making a most herculean effort to not throw up on the two of them as part of a natural gag reflex induced by their mighty war funk. “Of course, sirs, but the food will take time to prepare… wouldn’t you be more comfortable in clean attire for the night?”

Taking stock of the pained smile on her face, and the not even attempting to smile looks upon some of the other patrons in this shabby inn, Terus turned to Jysalef and did his best to discreetly whisper, “Master, sir… I think we’re making them ill.”

Jysalef growled, “Fine, lead the way.” As he followed the barmaid from the table, he muttered none to inconspicuously to himself, “With as filthy as this place is, you wouldn’t think they’d be complaining so much about something as small as a little after battle smell.”

Terus Kyreon, making sure as to not be overheard by his instructor, apologetically offered, “You must forgive him, he really is of better temperament when he’s eaten.”