Of Blood and Loss

II. The Spellsword Samurai

Greywatch Bar smelt of warm mead, embers and dank. The small fireplace in the corner illuminated the small bar warmly. The bar was filled with a cesspool of conversations, reunions and hearty laughs. Many of the drinkers were the soldiers that helped saved the few Akrasian's that lived. "Hey it's that pale boy!" A familiar man, Morgan immediately recognised was there. Morgan smiled as the two caught up a little. "One of those ancients huh? Terrifying." Morgan just nodded, trying not to remember the pain of the journey to the town. "Hey you want some ale?" Hercules suddenly asked Morgan. "I'm too young." Morgan replies. "Oh shit yeah, forget about that. What do kids drink, fuckin... milk?" Hercules growled "I'm no kid. I'll have some water." Morgan shot back. "Alright then. Go find somewhere to sit."

"I was asking around while you rested." Hercules and Morgan sat across from each other at a small oak table, Morgan's eyes perked up as he drank. "There's some man, on his was to the capital too. I don't know if he's Akrasian or not, just some Samurai spellsword. It'd do you good to see some magic; real shit not that illusion type stuff you see beggars do. I'm talking fire. I don't know if we can trust him but its worth a try. What you say?" Morgan just hmm'd. "We can take them if they're some theif." Morgan added, but Hercules threw a "Not in that fuckin armour you're not. You need something a little heavier."

Morgan remembered how he's just in his underarmour, he didnt have any leather, or any real armour for that matter. Cotton can only do so much against steel and claw. "Do they even have Gladiator armour here?" Morgan asked. Greywatch was too small to have an arena, it was just a few shops and houses. "We'll see at Wyrod, the town just ahead. We should get moving soon, wanna be there before night." Herc said as he wiped away an Ale foam moustache. Morgan tied up his fists close using his leather straps and wiggled them around, threw a few shadow punches, looked up at Hercules and smiled. Hercules just picked up his axe and rubbed his nose with his forearm; and the two headed out.

Morgan stepped out into the meadow, there was a dirt road leading into a forest nearby. The grass was dotted with pellets of the rainbow, mostly Daisies and Buttercups. He studied a bunch of dandelions, smelt every daisy and common flower he passed. "It smells so sweet out here, all these flowers." Morgan turned to Hercules. "Smells like piss." Hercules huffed and started walking. "Could've put it nicer but okay" Morgan followed a little behind.

"This Samurai... I've seen a few back at the old arena. Are they common here?" Morgan asked. "Samurai are still warriors, they just use fancy thin blades. They just come from some far off land. They're fast too, plus a Spellsword Samurai is extra rare. I don think I've seen a Samurai use more than a few basic spells let alone enough to be a spell sword. I'm hopin he'll be good at at least one of those." Herc said.

Morgan was suddenly encased in shade as he passed under a canopy. As they ventured further into the small oak forest, Morgan checked out every fern and flower he found. Morgan asked "How long until Wyord?" just to be met with a "Are you gonna ask questions every few minutes, boy?". "Maybe." Morgan retorted. "Just a quarter mile after this forest." Hercules groaned.

Hercules halted. A slow thumping echoed softly between the trees. Hercules held out a hand to stop Morgan, who was still waltzing through. Morgan picked up on the rhythmic thumping as the Orc dove for cover behind some tree, and Morgan hid behind a tree of his own. "Fuck." Hercules hissed. "Should've known there's beasties in here." Every step rattled the roots of the trees; deer and birds both fled the area. That heavy drum resonated in the two's legs, causing Morgan's knees to be jelly. Hercules would quickly discover the source as a oddly shaped silhouette passed ahead of them. "Fucking Minotaur."

This Giant beast of a demon held half a tree for a weapon, fashioned crudely into club. It had the head, hooves, fur and strength of a bull, but the body shape of a man. It's arms were hulking muscles, it's fist unclenching. Its eyes were blood red, giving Morgan horrifying flashbacks, and horns pointed away from his head. It huffed through its snout, shaking its nose ring as it kept stomping through the forest. It munched on some fern, dead in the road they needed to go through. "Fuck, lets just try and sneak 'round. It's not worth testing our luck." Hercules suggested.