Kegan didn’t have to drag his sled far to find a human village. The villagers were suspicious and fearful of him. When he asked to share someone’s hut, the entire family left the hut as if he now owned it. The whole experience was strange and Kegan moved on after only staying a single night.

The next village was slightly larger, but everyone was still suspicious. They were less fearful but still seemed wary. As if Kegan was a wild animal waiting to pounce. He slept just outside of the village for a few nights.

He gathered more information about the local area. There was a local ruler named Baron Tasmeel. Half of the village seemed to claim some close relation to him or his ancestors. Tasmeel had some kind of defensive building that they called a Keep. Kegan took directions from the villagers and made his way towards this ‘Lord Tasmeel’. If this Lord was anything like the Orc leaders, or the human leaders Kegan had met, then there would be a spot for a warrior.

A day later Kegan heard the distant sounds of dogs barking and many creatures crashing through the woods. He dragged his sled faster heading towards the disturbance. A hog came crashing through the underbrush with a pack of dogs biting and barking at it. The hog didn’t get far before it was forced to turn around and kick the dogs off of its hindquarters.

It was frenzied, foaming from the mouth, and squealing. Its eyes darted around wildly in all directions trying to find a path to escape or a dog to gore with its tusks.

Trotting out from the trees came 9 horsemen in cloth and leather armor carrying spears or bows.

“This one is mine, Gregory!”

“Yes, sir.”

The first one that spoke leveled his spear at the boar and urged his horse into a run. With impressive form, he thrust the spear into the neck of the boar and left it in there as he rode past.

“Aha!” he shouted in triumph. Moments later multiple arrows slammed into the boar and two more horsemen charged and added their own spears.

The boar went down. None of the spears were a clean kill. It was bleeding out. The dogs getting more bold and aggressive as the fight left the board. Kegan pulled out a javelin and threw it through the boar’s skull, and ended its struggle.

“Gregory! That was my kill, who did that!” The young man had already dismounted with a sword in hand. His eyes quickly locked onto Kegan.

“Who are you! You stole my kill!”

“My name is Kegan. The boar was dying. I do not wish to steal your kill, you can keep the meat.”

“Your name is just Kegan? Is that your family name or your given name?” The man named Gregory asked. The group shuffled around in confusion. The young warrior that had talked so much before seemed to be at a loss for words.

“Just Kegan, are any of you Lord Tasmeel?”

The young warrior perked up as if hearing his name. Two heavily armored men drew swords and moved their horses in front of the young warrior as if to protect him. Three other men nocked arrows on their bows and seemed poised to draw and shoot at Kegan,

Gregory rode his horse towards Kegan. “Kegan of no family. You have interrupted Lord Tasmeel’s hunt on his own lands. We had no quarrel with you, but you have knowingly come armed onto another Lord’s lands. My lord humbly wishes that you immediately vacate his lands, and apologize for this trespass.”

Kegan turned back to look at the sled he was dragging around. It was piled high with javelins, arrows, a few bows, spears, clubs, and knives. The food, furs, iron bars, and other harmless things were mostly at the bottom of the pile.

“I am not here to use these weapons against Lord Tasmeel, I am here to use them for him.”

“You are a lone mercenary?”

Kegan reflected for a moment on the meaning of ‘mercenary’. His mind pulled up thoughts of men fighting for money, killing anyone or anything for gold.

“Yes .. but I will fight for food as well.”

Gregory gave him a confused look for a moment before he and everyone else burst out laughing.

Outside of the Keep, a small crowd had gathered to witness a duel between Gregory and “Kegan the hungry” as he was being called.

The duel served two purposes. The first reason that was given to the public was to determine Kegan’s worth as a warrior, and thus what his pay would be. The second unspoken reason was to remind everyone who was in charge. People rarely consented to fight Gregory in public, and for good reason.

Gregory had thought he would agree to Kegan’s request for food payment. It was rare, but not unheard of for a poor Knight to work for room and board. After all, even a low-quality warrior was worth the cost of room and board. They’d laughed when he asked to be paid in food because he was carrying a fortune in weapons. Easily enough to outfit a squad of men.

When Kegan had asked for enough food to feed ten warriors. Gregory thought he was planning to take the food and offer it to a large family traveling with him. But the ride back to the Keep had dispelled all illusions. Gregory had watched in horror and fascination as the man consumed pemmican almost non-stop for three hours on the walk back to the keep.

Both Kegan and Gregory were gearing up for their duel. The rules had to be explained to Kegan. The weapons would be blunted. Full armor was allowed. Eleven rounds of combat were allowed, but duels rarely lasted that long. A round could be won by either the loser tapping out on the ground, a loser being knocked out or the winner using a knife to slide between the armor and draw blood.

Gregory had pre-combat jitters. His stomach fluttered, and his muscles itched under the plate and gambeson he wore. He stretched and practiced some sword forms to relieve the excess energy. Every warrior he’d known always felt this way. Duel’s weren’t meant to be deadly or cause permanent injury, but accidents happen.

Kegan had finally finished strapping on his assortment of armor. It was an assortment of bone, leather, wood, and small metal plates in strategic locations. In some places, it was two inches thick. It was hot and uncomfortable, but he always preferred being uncomfortable to bleeding out or having his bones broken. Kegan hadn’t originally planned on wearing the full set of armor. He thought the duel would be more like a friendly spar, but he changed his mind after seeing his opponent fully armored and swinging a longsword with skill.

The duel started with a silent acknowledgment to each other. People started cheering in the crowd. The other knights and the guards were mostly silent. While the townsfolk shouted encouragement to Gregory. “Pound his face in the dirt Gregory!” “Yeah! See how he likes to eat dirt!”

They briefly tested each other’s sword skills. Gregory’s jitters evaporated as he realized he was fighting a low skilled swordsman, a brawler at best.

Gregory’s sword knocked aside Kegan’s sword and then thudded into the side of Kegan’s head. Gregory had already moved back to avoid Kegan’s retaliation swing. Even knocked out opponents or dead men walking could get in a deadly swing, and Gregory was not in the habit of letting those swings land.

Gregory was surprised to see Kegan not only still standing, but completely unphased by the strike. Kegan’s armor looked ridiculous to Gregory, but he considered that it might be more effective than it looked.

What followed the first exchange was five more minutes of the same thing happening in dozens of exchanges. Gregory was landing solid hits, and avoiding Kegan’s retaliation strikes. The uneducated and inexperienced half of the crowd was loving it. They thought Gregory was toying with Kegan.

The guards and the knights knew better. Gregory didn’t toy with opponents. He ended things quickly and cleanly. Every one of his strikes would have ended a normal fight.

Kegan’s strikes and attacks had remained consistent, almost predictable. But they weren’t slowing down, while Gregory was slowing down.

Gregory took a new approach to end the round. He moved in to attack Kegan again, this time he didn’t dodge back to avoid the retaliatory strike, instead, he leaned into it and drew his dueling dagger. The dagger slid between two pieces of bone and pierced through leather and skin to draw blood. At the same time, Kegan’s sword strike landed hard on Gregory’s chest.

“First blood!”

Two knights moved in and quickly broke the two men apart before any more blows could land. Kegan had to be reminded of the rules again. The first round had ended, and unlike most duels, both men were still in strong fighting shape.

There were some murmurs among the crowd, some of them finally picking up on the fact that something was strange about this duel.

Gregory had his squire doing a spot check on his armor. The squire gasped. Gregory tried to see what he was looking at, but there wasn’t enough flexibility. “Sir, your armor is badly dented below your left armpit. Can you breathe sir?”

“I didn’t think he had the right leverage to deliver that much power in the blow. The armor feels tight over there, but I can breathe fine.” He twisted around in the armor to test the movement. “Movement feels mostly unrestricted. Tell the blacksmith he’ll have to hammer it out after the fight.” The helmet was taken off and water was poured over his head. Gregory took a swig from a waiting mug of beer. Ten minutes between rounds was usually an advantage for his opponents, but now he had desperately taken the opportunity. He looked over at Kegan …

Kegan didn’t know what to do between rounds. He had finally felt like he was getting warmed up when they halted the fight. That dagger had gone right through all of his armor, and if he didn’t see it coming in the future then Gregory could just end each round whenever he wanted. He wondered if Gregory had just been toying with him the whole time. He loosened his helmet and began eating pemmican. His new perks seemed to require an endless supply of food. He was running low on pemmican, only one of the eight baskets he’d started out with remained. Kegan noticed Gregory staring at him angrily. Kegan returned the stare while continuing to eat pemmican.

Gregory was pissed. Kegan was casually snacking between rounds like this was some kind of carnival game for children. Gregory averted eye contact when Kegan started looking back. His eyes looked dull, it was like trying to stare down and intimidate a cow chewing grass. Gregory began his breathing exercises to clear his mind and recover his body as quickly as possible. He was woken from his meditative state by his squire telling him that the next round was ready to begin.

The next four rounds proceeded much the same as the first round. They were short rounds lasting only three to five minutes. Gregory would try briefly bashing Kegan’s head in. Kegan would shrug off the attacks. Gregory would start getting tired and he would outmaneuver Kegan to stick him with the dueling dagger and end the round.

Gregory tried to end the 6th round the same way, but Kegan managed to see the move coming and counter it. A struggle ensued over control of the dueling dagger. Kegan was far stronger, but Gregory had better grip and leverage. The round ended with Gregory tapping out when Kegan managed to get on top of him and punching Gregory with his free hand.

The 7th round had Gregory immediately pull out the dueling knife and land a bloodied strike within thirty seconds.

After the 7th round, Kegan asked to have a dueling knife of his own. Everyone had overlooked the fact that he didn’t have one. It was common for knights to carry their own. Gregory realized how shameful his last round’s fight had been and decided to forfeit the duel.

They agree to make Kegan a warrior on retainer for Baron Tasmeel. He would be paid entirely in food, enough to feed ten warriors a day.