Chapter One ~The Guilds Festival "Brother, Why do we do this? For what reason do we allow ourselves to fight for these causes; for lords that don't know the first thing of honor or struggle?......I found something, I have found something that I want to protect; Nie, that I will protect, but I can't do that on a field filled of the blood of the guilty. I can't be a Pawn that follows a King of slaughter. I can't fight my brother because someone tells me to....There is a city, a place iv visited only once before, that offers freedom away from the politics of mad Kings and selfish lords...Walls that offer true protection for myself and those I care about, including my precious little gem. A place of Opportunity... a place to start fresh and serve our own means! Come... Brother.. let us leave this battle field. Let this be the only mission we have ever failed... and let Kings of fools remember it for ages to come.. for soon they will know us in another way... Soon.. they will know us as the Darkmoon mercenaries!" A slam reverberated the table under the might of a large fist, as Wolfsin cast a playful glare towards the beautiful Camrian. "You. garbage wench!." he shouted as he threw his own cards on the table and growled, but their was a an obvious playful gleam to his eyes in contrast to the cocky smile that she allowed to protrude. "I swear you are a damned mind reader sometimes... honestly you and Elite always win in these damned games of chance!" Of course from behind the peanut gallery had to add in their own two scents. The sudden poke of a bard resounded the dim looking tavern and Wolfsin responded with a similar glare. "Oh warrior, oh warrior strong under the moon, Give him a playing deck and ensure his doom!" The Comatose alight with powerful laughter, even Wolfsin couldn't contain himself at the cleverness of the damned bard Orin. "Alright alright.. I guess that is enough of that Bahahaha!" Wolfsin raised his flagon, a large hearty mug filled of the finest Northern mead, a sweet accenting flavor to the rough slosh that slid down his throat; an all too familiar poison that Wolfsin enjoyed on many an occasion. "So onto a bit of buisness then." Wolfsin tapped his mug on the table and met the Deep crimson eyes of the beauty before him, a sense of formal integrity to be found lost within infinite depths of Golden riches that only the moon could provide in Wolfsin's own eyes. "It has been a few weeks since you contacted us for a material gathering excavation, so I can only presume that, that is one of the many reasons outside the wonders of my company that you contacted me here today." ~Meanwhile~ "When you Strafe, you have to make sure that you move foot for foot, it might seem counter productive but it sets you up for further sword dancing, and allows for quick twists and truns, rather than being flat on your feet. A strong voice called over a group of fresh apprentices, as a man with a set of raven black hair and the deepest blue eyes watched over each of them. The back yard training ground to the Darkmoon mercenaries was a long stretch of land with a fighting pit, running ground, and plenty of man made obstacles to help in the training of apprentices. Baliel, the Captain had been one of the longest running captains to the guild for years, as a skilled Pole arm expert he had already gained quite a bit of renowned fame across Norindul and so he commanded a strong amount of respect from his pupils, a current set of 7 apprentices. "Alright, now that we have that understood a bit better. I want all of you to pair up. You will stand approximately 20 feet from each other at all times, and every minute of the battle you will wander to another team. Ambush if you will." Baliel moved to the side of the field and crossed his arms over his leather chest guard, like a watchful guardian he scanned the battle ground. "Now get to it!"