Astor yawned to the morning mist. He wandered about the courtyard of the property to settle the tingling warmth on his skin brought about by the sun's soothing rays. The night of woodwork had left him fatigued and worn, but he had a remedy prepared for this situation. After working his body up to an optimal temperature, Astor pooled together his focus and concentrated on recalling the feeling he had when he excited the ethereal flames within his magical plane. The strain of bringing such mental abstractness into reality was heavy on his nerves. As he continued his efforts, he noticed the lights reflecting off the vibrant surroundings by the sun begin to increase with overwhelming intensity. With his poor attempt to block his eyes from the blinding blaze, Astor felt his heart race to a merciless pace before his senses began to die back down. As he opened his eyes, he saw, just inside his far peripheral vision, a hazy, blue tinge surrounding his vision, briefly outlining shapes and objects with a bold, white shade before fading away.

With the contained power flowing within, Astor was left with a disheartening feeling in his chest. The toils of last night were replaced with an energetic, yet disconnected feeling which impeded an otherwise successful result. In order to test this effect, Astor walked to the front gates of the mansion and lightly tapped on one of the orbs of light that hung from the stone crannies in the wall. Short series of stimulus with mana should have induced light to be released from its manifold, yet nothing happened as he continually pressed. Astor noticed that the usual blue aura he'd expected to see around his fingers was replaced by a meager amount of glowing white mist. He shook his hands as the strain from releasing the white aura was much more strenuous than the usual.

I've picked up quite an interesting trait.

Leaned against the outer gates of the wall, Astor waited impatiently for the group that was to escort him to their base. After watching the sun rise a few centimeters more, he spotted the bobbing heads of four men treading up to his location. One of which donned a golden patch of hair.

"Good morning," said the cheery tone.

"Morning."

"Our place of operations is this way. Please, follow me."

William led them down from the smooth, cobblestone pathway onto the dirt path leading east towards the mountains. They continued in silence before they reached a clearing in the rocky terrain. Stepping out from the valley and onto the winding path that was carved into the cliff, the five of them gazed at the sight in front of them. The sight of extensive networks of mountains and hills under the blue dawn of morning created a sense of majestic loneliness and deep mystery for the group as they traversed the edging path. The overhanging cliff above showed, from its crevices, darkened, yet transparent chunks of marble, revealing the valuable resources that these mountains held. The humidity had drastically changed from when they entered the mountains, and the prevailing smell of moist, earthy stone lingered at their side as they made their way down.

Astor's stomach was made skittish from the excitement. It was a scene mixed with pleasant sense of nostalgia for him. On approaching a naturally-carved half-dome along the mountainous path, they five stopped there briefly to admire the scenery.

"This view would never get old. Imagine, being the first ones to discover and inhabit this location." Willaim breathed out a sigh of wonderment before looking at Astor. "I can see why you would want to protect this soo much."

Astor breathed in the cool breeze. "It's how I remember it to be at least. One of the few things that remain from my childhood."

"What a great thing to experience while growing up. Perhaps I'll bring my boy here."

Astor nodded contently before coming to a stunning realization.

"Are you married?"

William gazed sheepishly downwards towards the ground. "Yes. In matter of fact, my wife and I already have a child of 6."

"Six! How old are you?"

The other three in the group began laughing at his astonishment. William just chuckled lightly.

"Why, I'm 19 years past already."

Past? More like 19 of years passing.

Such proverbs, "Years past" and "of years passing," were telling of a person's age group: wise and old or young and adventurous, usually cutting off at 25. Occasionally, it can be used to denote one's preferred age group.

Astor could somewhat relate with Will. He, himself, was only 22, yet he found himself in guardianship over three small children. Their similar circumstances caused him to shuffle anxiously.

"But enough about me, let us continue onwards."

As the group began to gather themselves, Astor looked out from their current position and examined the various mining villages below that clustered around a single channel of water. He could only imagine the filth in the river that such nearby work produced. When they approached the far-left, secluded side of the village, Astor saw the full size of the unit. Around 35 or so well-equipped troops moved with haste to meet the daily chores required of the encampment.

"Quite a small group you have here."

"We're a private section of the military with special permissions from the council."

"Are you sure it'll be enough for dealing with the brotherhood."

"That, we will find out about later. Your tent is there."

William pointed to a large tent located near the riverbed.

"There will be a meeting in the center stone building in an hour past noon. You're are free to explore as you like until then."

The four men left Astor to his own devices. Looking up at the sun to gauge the time, he concluded that there was still plenty of time to do some hunting. Making his way over his tent, Astor took out a pouch from the chest inside and made his way towards what seemed like the archery range.

"Hey, is there a crossbow I can use to hunt with?"

A group of practicing bowsmen stopped to look at him. Of the ten there, one began walking toward him. The man that stood out was short and quite thin, but his facial expressions and beard gave an otherwise, stern presence.

"We use our own bows to hunt, but you can use mine."

The man gave Astor his bow and a quiver of arrows to go along with it. Astor took the weapon graciously but, at the same time, cursed his luck. He was terrible with a bow and would much rather prefer a crossbow when hunting.

"Thank you. The name's Astor Jacobs. What's yours?"

By the time Astor had finished his greeting, the man had already begun walking back towards his position on the range.

"Wane," the man replied while raising a hand.

Astor brushed off the strange exchange and made his way towards the field in the distance. As he walked up to the multiple game trails, Astor picked one that seemed less tampered with by other hunters. Eying the streaks running through the yellow grass, he took a position above a hill and waited. After what seemed like an hour, he spotted a large, furry shape bounding hastily through the field. Silently drawing the bow, Astor made a small whistle to perk the ears of the rabbit before loosing the arrow towards the target. It landed a few feet short, and the rabbit dashed off into the thick vegetation, unscathed.

Giving up on the trail, Astor opted to try his luck with the squirrels. The weather seemed perfect for the hunt, yet, after searching up and down the many towering oaks, he could only make out the empty shells and droppings near the base of the tree.

They always seemed so plentiful when you weren't searching for them.

After a dozen or so tree, Astor finally spotted the distracted woodland creature, about twenty-five feet away, nibbling on a nut. This time, with more focus, Astor drew and loosed the arrow with deadly accuracy. He watched the arrow, unflinchingly soar through the air and collide with the limp body of the squirrel. It somersaulted through the air before landing on the ground, twitching erratically as its final dying efforts. The arrow had torn cleanly through the animal's spine, but, as Astor went to retrieve the projectile, the short, metal tip of the arrow had broken off, having struck a hard surface somewhere after leaving its victim's body. With his next few attempts at hunting resulting like his first one did, Astor finally decided to give up and began trudging back to camp with his small reward for all his efforts. As he returned to the archery range, he called out to Wane.

"Here's your bow. I couldn't get much and I broke an arrow."

Wane, with a suspicious eye, examined the quiver before spotting Astor's kill.

"Couldn't get those rabbits even though the'r larger than most? You must really be a bugger with a bow."

Astor couldn't argue with that. "I'm more used to a crossbow. Besides, I've got one -very least."

Wane gave an unimpressed expression. "One in four and half hours and it costed an arrow. I'm surprised you're not feeding the whole lot of us." He casually took the squirrel from Astor's grasps.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm feeding all of us with this small thing. My bow, my rules."

Astor apathetically followed Wane as he walked over to a set of large pens and threw the carcass into the muddied floor inside. He watched as, from the shadows, three large boars came out to tear the furry critter apart, limb by limb.

"Watch them eat sure makes me hungry," Astor complained.

Wane pointed to a fourth one in the corner that was tied against the wall. "We're eating that one tonight. You shouldn't need worry about getting lunch. You should instead practice your aim and sight though."

Astor chuckled, "Maybe later. I should probably go and hear what they're discussing in the meeting today. Will you go as well?"

Wane shook his head. "I've only have to worry about who's head I'm filling with arrows. I'll let you talkers handle the rest." Wane began walking towards the tents.

Straightforward, yet intelligent.

Guys like him are often underestimated, but Astor knew capability when he saw it. The man's eyes were like beams of daggers when they stared at him, unflinching.

What an interesting encounter.

His expectations of this company were high, and so far, they have not disappointed. Stamping off the thick mud he had attracted on his boots while being near the pig pen, Astor made his way towards the stone building. On his way there, he spotted a huge, hulking body attempting some sort of exercise with the huge rocks near the shoreline. Peaking his interest, Astor concluded that he would attempt to meet this great beast of a man later on. As he arrived inside the cozy interior, a group of servants made way for his arrival. Astor sat down at the empty table made for a total of 8 people. He waited patiently for them to arrive, continuously tapping the smooth, hardwood table until he heard the bustle of footsteps outside the building followed by a series of urgent voices.

"We've received most of the supplies today, My lord. We can now carry out the excursion of this crisis immediately before it incites more of the same problems," an elderly voice rang into the building.

Astor then heard the familiar voice of the young, blonde nobleman.

"I understand the urgency to take decisive countermeasures, but we cannot dive into a battle without first knowing their strengths and their members. It would only worsen the response they've had to our arrival. Sir Mordrey, Are the stocks properly prepared for reinforcements?"

"They are if need be."

"Good, be prepared to send a horseman."

"Already have Catamine prescribing the letter."

Astor observed as six members of high ranks, all clad in dark yellow robes, began filling in the seats on the table while continuing with their conversations.

"Our stocks are plentiful due to the local donations made by the neighboring houses. If we can complete this task at a low ask from the council, it could mean an important rise in your position William."

"Let us not get too far ahead of ourselves, Master Melinor. Though it seems a simple task to stop the ensuing violence, quelling the deep-rooted hatred in this country may take lifetimes to complete. Have we completed the parameters?"

"We've all but the river to worry about if we are attacked."

"Then let's not give them that opportunity. Is there any word from Sir Dingrege's patrol?"

"Yes, they've spotted two instances of the Brotherhood's activity. One is a few hours walk from here in the town of Plainsville. The other is at a more secluded location not too far."

"Can we pinpoint the location from which they are relaying orders or are these random occurrences?"

"I believe they have a pattern, My lord. Hard to believe they are just random."

"Then prepare some estimates to where they can be. I've still got the documents to finish."

An old, withering hand gave William a short, worn journal to examine. "Are these records of compliant witnesses?"

The hood of one figure nodded. William frowned. "This is all the locals had gathered before we got here?"

"It seems so."

A grim atmosphere fell over the discussion.

"How many of them are alive that we know of?"

The hooded figure slowly turned the page on the crumbling journal and pointed.

William shook his head frustratedly. "That is not many indeed. We've must win over the trust of the villagers in order to justly condemn the criminals. Are there any suggestions on how to do so?"

"The last expedition here before us had failed miserably to enforce absolute justice. Words will no longer sway these people. We must let actions speak our words. Make an example in combat, to prove that we are to be feared and respected."

All around the table, nods and gestures of agreement were made. William looked around studiously. His eyes fell on Astor.

"What do you think, Sir Astor?"

Astor, a bit caught off guard by his sudden inclusion, cleared his throat. "I believe its necessary to show what we are capable of, but, as I traveled to many villages, signs of the Brotherhood's influence has caused much wide-spread panic from all around the region. I doubt they listen to us if just more of the same violence was added to the mix. I would say its best to try to calm the people of their fears first. We should take down all the.... "displays" that the Brotherhood has left behind. If we can do so without impedance, then perhaps more people will come to believe in us."

After a moment of silence, his suggestion was given nodding approval by the group of older gentlemen and William.

"Then, can I ask you of this task, Sir Astor?"

Astor was a bit surprised to have received such an important duty without having to prove himself. "Of course."

"It's decided then. Sir Astor and Sir Dingrege will collaborate to take down the displays as soon as he returns from his mission. We will report here tomorrow on the duration and progress of ongoing and future commissions. Is there any more matters to be had?"

They all shook their head.

"Very well, gentlemen. Let us resume our duties."

They all left the table almost as quickly as they sat down. Astor was left a bit confused by his role. What could he possibly do or strive to accomplish by collaborating with, from what he's heard, their general? He barely knows a person here.

Sighing to himself, Astor stood from his chair and moistened his dry throat with the soothing milk beverage that was provided by the servants. Looking over the table, he noticed that most of the cups were left nearly untouched. The efficiency to which these men operated with was impressive indeed.

Guess its time for me to learn some new faces.