An ancient rift, a realm of magic and demons. The fate of the world hangs in the balance, and this is the story of four adventurers and their journey to combat the threat without ripping each other's throats out. A sequel of Lies of the Throne. A 1x1 between @Warden and @Fox of Spades "And there we were, surrounded by a mob of demons—shadowy abominations from the Neverworld." The wanderer sat on a slab of wood by a newly lit bonfire. The sky above them was orange, but in a few more minutes it would be dark out. Not too far from where he and several others sat were small carts filled with items that ranged from medical herbs to to magical amulets that warded off lesser spirits. The wooden carts belonged to merchants that wandered from settlement to settlement in hopes of selling their wares, and not too far from the make-shift market place, several tents were erected so battle-weary men and women could rest their tired bones. The settlements were crowded and anything but luxurious, but in trying times such as these they were more than enough to keep weary travelers on their feet. "What happened next, mister?" A kid who was missing one of his front teeth leaned in with wide eyes, and soon several others chimed in. "Did you chop off its head with your giant axe?" Ferris ran a hand through his hair and gave the group of children a winning smile. A rather pretty swordswoman with a grade A figure was sitting not too far from him, but she was more focused on sharpening her blade than on his heroic tales. If he were being honest, he told his story in hopes of impressing her...oh well, winning the adoration of the children worked too. "That I did," hefting his axe onto his shoulder, he paused for effect then eyed his mute companion. "I swooped in, and with a swing of my axe sent several of those bastards flying. Saved Chickenlover over there, and been traveling with him ever since." He doubted Gael would be able to tell the kids he was lying. Hell, he was twenty four and he had trouble understanding the man's gestures, so getting a bunch of kids to decipher sign language. Uh-huh, good luck with that. The group of children surrounded the wanderer, and a little boy no older than eight asked if he could try on Ferris' helmet. The swordswoman looked his way, and wanting to impress, Ferris agreed generously and plonked his helmet onto the boy's head. The kid lit up like lantern and Ferris winked playfully in the lady's direction. "Kids, you gotta love 'em, right?" "Ferris," Arthur called out. The wanderer turned around, messy helmet-hair and all. "What is it, Art? Can't you see I'm a little busy right now?" "We're leaving for the next settlement, tomorrow at dawn. I thought I'd inform you, just in case you'd like to continue your travels with us." Arthur looked rather hesitant, but he tried to keep a friendly expression on his face. Ferris was a skilled fighter and a useful extra pair of hands, there was no questioning that, but he was also a headache and an overgrown child. Ferris grinned, "I'll think about it." "Alright," the warrior nodded in Gael's direction. "I hope you've finished preparing, the next settlement is quite a ways off and I doubt we'll run into any caravans or traveling merchants along the way." In the past five years, the country of Alencia had grown unforgiving and cold. And now, it was up to them and the many others who had heeded the call to journey towards the rift and purge the land of the evil that had befallen it.