"Upsie daisy fair lady."

The voice breaks my slumber

"Now now, I think you've slept in long enough, you've already missed breakfast."

"Go Away!" I mumble harshly.

A boot kicks from outside my tent, making solid contact with my shin.

"Oww, Relax your bloody damn arse I'm up, I'm up." I crawl out from my tent, akin to a bear emerging from its den. I glance up to see Luke standing over me with that bloody damn smirk on his face.

"We are breaking down camp now, we need to get a move on if we want to make Roderan before nightfall," Luke rang out from his position standing over me.

I stood with a long sigh. I ignored the feeling of emptiness in my stomach, a regular companion. despite my Northmen blood, I always preferred to avoid the chill of the crisp morning air that plagued Valskaar. I much preferred the warmth of my bed, but when traveling I'd get by with a tent and, maybe an unreasonable amount of blankets.

I broke my tent and prepared myself at a far more relaxed pace than yesterday. I stowed the tent and pilfered blankets back into one of the supply wagons.

A loud incomprehensible jumble of mutterings assailed me. I jumped on reflex, twisting air (with a move I hoped looked for more graceful than it felt) and landed facing what had to the most rugged, and decrepit soldier I've ever seen under the King's employ. Two lines of jagged scars ran down the right side of his face, seeming to creep out from under the worn gray bandana tied over his right eye. His crooked nose released hair that flowed into his mustache, that was as gray as the ragged beard that reached down to his chest.

He raised his left hand and pointed his gnarled middle finger at me, as his pointer and pinky finger were entirely absent. His mouth released another deluge of jarring vocal atrocities.

I was saved as Marian came to return her own gear to the supply wagon.

" Oh, I see you've met Darington, one of our best scouts recently retired from the from lines. He now serves as our supply officer and occasional cook." Marian spoke as if defending the man.

The old scout grumbled to himself. Marian tilted her head seeming to understand the gruff man.

"Don't worry about him, throw your things in the back. We need to get moving." Marian added, ignoring Darington's continued incomprehensible musings.

After that bout of awkwardness, I readied the rest of my possessions and mounted my horse. Late as my usual standard, I caught up to Luke at the front of the unit as the procession got underway.

Luke acknowledged my arrival with a smirk and a nod. Our journey continued down the dusty road to Roderan.

....

After an uneventful day of traveling in which I bore awkward witness to Luke and Marian's flirtations, the small town of Roderan became visible on the horizon. Puffing chimneys embellished slanted roofs visible over the wooden wall. Closer small hamlets and farms could be seen lying outside the walls amid the dusty flat landscape. Closer still on a small hilltop overlooking the town, small tents and a campfire of an unkempt military encampment were within view.

Luke met my eyes and with a nod of his head led us off to the side of the road as the platoon of Long Riders continued down the road.

Luke spoke while looking at the encampment on the hill. "Look'n like our usual spot is taken."

"They look like mercenaries to my eyes. I'm not aware of any other Valksarn troops in the area, and that bunch looks to disorganized to be any regular troop." Marian deduced.

I focused on the hilltop, sharing my thoughts. "No reason we can't be civil, maybe they're willing to share camp with us."

"Hell why not, ma'ight be interesten" Luke added, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.

.....

"That bloody-damn bastard!" I raged, as I rolled my shoulders and shook loose the tension in my arms, preparing to endure another of Luke's outrageous schemes. I stood amid a circle of beast-men. Their wolf-like ears angled forward, long bushy tails wagging as the awaited the entertainment I was to provide, as promised by Luke, in exchange for sharing the encampment area and fresh provisions from the Wolf-Kin's hunters. I tightened the strap of my blackened, battered tower shield, as I awaited my opponent for my unwilling duel. I heard laughter and inwardly cursed Luke again, turning towards the sound. The crowd of eager Wolf-kin parted, allowing passage of my opponent and Luke, both laughing at what I could assume was one of Luke crude jokes. My eyes met my opponents as I attempted to gauge his strength through the parting crowd. Mirthful eyes peered out from a slit in his full rather unique helmet. He bore no weapons, but I doubted he would need any. His full suit of plated armor was designed around a singular purpose, pain. A line of spikes ran from the forearm length spike on his forehead, running between the battered ears poking from his helmet. The line of spike tapered to finger-length on the back of his helmet. The whole ensemble seemed to be forged of wicked curved blades and vicious spikes. The fingers of his gauntlets ended in wicked claws, with long curved blades extending from his elbows and knees. It was no wonder the crowd gave him a wide berth, As even with their own assortment of mismatched armor, just bumping into his figure could be fatal.

I was stunned. This, THIS was supposed to be a light-hearted dull for entertainment! How was I supposed to come out of this unscathed? Any bodily contact with this man would leave me in a perilous state. Luke approached me in my frozen figure.

"Now, now Saora, ole Dirge here, promised he'd go easy on ya', as long, as ya' willin' to do the same." Luke spoke, whilst patting me on the shoulder.

I raised an eyebrow at him, as Dirge stepped forward to introduce himself. His left ear flopped down against his helmet as he lowered his head in my direction as way of greeting.

"Well, howdy- ah damn, pay no mind to the ear, never been the same since that drake." He spoke with a low baritone voice befitting is large and wide shouldered stature, as he reached up and righted his ear, holding it in place for a second before he let his hand fall back to his side.

"D-d-drake?" I stuttered meekly.

"Oh just an ole grump he was, on his last legs anyway. But-uh... don't mind that, lass, story for another time perhaps? We have entertainment to provide, Most of the boys here hav'never seen their uncle Dirge hav-at-it." Dirge spoke, obviously very relaxed and he made his way to one side of the impromptu arena. Though relaxed he never turned away, or even broke eye contact with me. I could tell there was more to this man than his mirthful attitude, that contrasted with his violent appearance.

"Ready?" He asked, I couldn't see but, only imagine the raised eyebrow that accompanied his question.

"Uhh... Yes?"

He was moving before I even answered him, lowering his stance, dropping his hands to the ground, similar to a cat ready to pounce, or in his case a wolf. I bent my knees, lowering my own stance, planting the bottom of my tower shield into the loose dirt. I held my sword arm at the ready of to my side, pointed forward, the tip of my long-sword over the top edge of my shield. He charged forward, bounding on all fours like a wolf chasing its prey. In two bounds he had halved the distance between us, before he leaped, in some strange form of a flying tackle. Arms outstretched preparing to ensnare me if I tried to dodge to either side. As his back feet left the ground, on impulse my shield arm moved in concert with my left leg, a half-step forward, replanting my shield and further lowering my stance to meet and stop his momentum. I stabbed instinctively stabbed forward with my sword, All thoughts of a relaxed, entertaining duel, gone in the face of his charge. The tip of my blade glanced off his armor, become entangled in the curved blades on the shoulders of his armor. His body hit my shield like a battering ram against castle gates. The force far beyond what I expected bowled me over onto my pack, my wrist twisted painfully, as movements ripped my lodged long-sword from my grasp. His weight crushed the wind out of me, as both of his arms reached around my shield, in an attempt to grasp and bind me. I curled my legs in pressing my feet against the bottom of my shield. His hands caught me in a powerful grip around my shoulders, as I kicked upwards with all the power I had with my legs throwing him up and over me. Surprise caught me as he did not relinquish his grip on me, He jerked me along the momentum of his roll, I crashed on top of him, The largest spike of his forehead grazed my cheek as I barely avoided being impaled face first. He pulled me in tight to his chest and simply convulsed, twitching like a madman, his serrated armor slashing my body from the chest up, In a complete panic, I yanked my shield higher between us, separating our upper bodies. He quickly shifted his right hand from my shoulder to grasp the back of my neck, pulling my face towards the spikes of his helmet. I met his eyes as tried to resist his strength. No longer were his eyes filled with mirth, instead, a bestial rage and a hunger for blood stared into my own eyes. My own rage and determination fueled me, I raised my shield, my determination rivaling his strength. The top lip of my shield met his chin as he attempted to head-butt me. His head rocked back, the spikes of his helmet digging into the ground. I seized upon this momentary advantage, punching with the edge of my shield, my blows were weak from the closeness of our bodies, but my shield was heavy, and I struck again, and again, and again. But then I was floating, I crashed into the ground before I knew what was happening, stunned, tired, and breathless.

I heard the laughter of a deep voice, as my eyes refocused the man standing over me. A helmet-less Dirge, left ear flapping and shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Ahhaw, sorry lass, haw-haw, that tumble was the most fun I've had in years.