Theodore walked along the side of The King's Road, smiling to himself as he hummed a tune and watched the occasional cloud pass overhead. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he never noticed a coach stop next to him, nor did he pay any attention to the woman's voice asking him a question. It wasn't until the butt of a spear struck him on the back of the head that he noticed how quiet it had gotten on the generally noisy road. Turning around, he barely caught a glimpse of the crest on the man's chest before he was struck again, this time behind the knees. Damn, the Governor's men, what bad luck. He hit the ground hard, and before he even grasped what was going on, a metal-clad boot stepped on his back, forcing his face into a pile of horse dung on the side of the road. Luckily it was dry instead of fresh. Theodore could hear the giggling voice of a young woman behind the curtain of the coach. "Well, do we have your attention now, peasant?" Not daring to look up, Theodore gave a slight nod. "That's good. Now, tell me, why are you traveling outside your village? The law clearly states that all Andorians cannot leave their assigned villages without the permission of the regional governor." After tapping her chin, she added. "and I think I would remember giving permission to one such as you." Still not daring to move, Theodore trembled slightly before the armored man grabbed him by his hair, jerking his head up toward the regional governor. Theodore briefly opened his eyes before quickly slamming them shut again. The glance he got was enough to make his stomach roil: Inside the carriage, he saw four people. Two youths around his age were lying like discarded trash at the feet of the young-looking woman who spoke, and a muscular man. Both were naked and had a dead look in their eyes. Theodore would have thought them dead if not for the rising and lowering of their chests. The woman calling herself the regional governor would probably be a great beauty, if not for the fact that her eyes were entirely black - a void that seemed to lead to the furthest depths of the underworld. Her fingernails also had streaks of black running through them, meaning she is well on her way toward complete demonization. The eyes and fingernails were scary enough, but what truly frightened Theodore was the glowing gem on both the man's and woman's forehead. The sign of an Immortal or Outworlder as the locals began calling them. No one knows where they came from well. No one Theodore had ever talked to at any rate. They appeared along with a strange egg-shaped building in the center of the Capital city of Andoor. They were right across the main road running in front of the King's palace, almost like a challenge to King Arturian's right to rule. Theodore wasn't the only one who glanced inside. The massive hand on his back began to tremble in what he could only assume was rage. The wavering made sense. It is extremely unlikely for an Outworlder to lower themselves to being a mere guard. Strangely, a moment later, the guard subtly jerked and, after a second, he let go of the boy's hair. As casually as possible, the guard let it fall back around the boy's neck. The palm on his back gave a small pat like he was trying to provide the boy with some encouragement. Luckily, neither of the Outworlders noticed as they were distracted by one of the youths twitching slightly on the floor. The woman poked the girl in the side with her toe a couple of times before shrugging and turning to the now-standing boy outside. Annoyance flashed across her face as she noticed the slackened facial muscles. "Shit, I waited too long and the geas already kicked in. Fracking priests, I wish I could raise them from the dead, so I could kill them myself." If I ever get my hands on the bitch traitor that told them about the quest system, I'll string her up by the toes and torture her slowly for eternity. She shook the thought from her head before returning her attention to the boy before her. Sighing, she gritted her teeth before reaching behind the seat and pulling out a short grey rod made of some unknown material. The man in the carriage frowned upon seeing this before speaking in a smooth voice. "Be careful with that Brea, it's the last control rod and it is unlikely Greg will hand over another, considering our last blunder killed the only sorcerer known to be able to make them." The woman flinched before spinning around, waving the rod. "How was I supposed to know that crazy old man cared so much for that stupid slut? And even if he did blowing up half the capital just to commit suicide, who would do something like that? -- Oh and Greg prefers to be called Arthur here." The man rolled his eyes. "I am not calling him that just to stroke his ego. Also, I agree, the old man went way overboard." The pair continued to argue back and forth. Still, nobody nearby knew what they spoke about since they switched to their native language. Suddenly the woman, red in the face, spun back around, pointing the rod at Theodore's face. "Enough of this, tell me why you are not in your assigned village?" Blood began to trickle from the corners of the boy's mouth as the magic from the control rod fought with the geas. Something gave after a minute of this and the boy's eyes glazed over, and he opened his mouth. "My village was erased by a passing Outworlder and I am traveling to the Capital for reasignnment." The boy spoke in an eerie monotone without any inflection or hint of emotion. Brea tapped the rod against her cheek twice before opening the carriage door and hopping to the ground. She stood half a head shorter than Theodore, who was tall for an Andorian at just under six-foot—walking closer with her light robe hanging open and flapping in the breeze—not seeming to notice her nudity. Not that anyone nearby would even dare to look, or want to, for that matter. Eyeing Theodore up and down, she asked a question: "Where are your shoes?" Again the monotonous voice answered. "By order of the regional Governor, peasants are not to wear shoes unless given permission by either herself or the town Mayor." Blood began to flow more steadily from his mouth as the geas started to take hold once more. Brea blinked at him twice before she spun back around, pointing the rod at the man. "Did I make such a law?" The man rolled his eyes again before setting the book he had been reading down and looking her way. "Yes, you did. Although, now that I think about it, you may have been jesting at the time." He shrugged before stepping out of the carriage and standing to his full seven-foot height while shielding his eyes from the sun. "You should cover up, or you will get a sunburn." Pouting, she ran a finger along his side. "You're one to talk." Swatting her hand away, he chuckled. "My skin is tougher then yours. And I have told you many times, your cutesy act is really gross. We are both in our forties now regardless of how we look." Shooting him an annoyed glare, she tied the robe loosely before spinning back to Theodore. She could see a small amount of clarity returning to his eyes, and she began to scowl. Raising the control rod, she was about to use it again when the massive hands of the man closed over hers. "Not again, you're going to break it. There is still enough control for a few more simple commands. Just don't try forcing it to speak. Now, if you will excuse me, I've got to take a piss."' Deflating a bit, she nodded and watched the tall man saunter off. As he passed the tall female Seargent, he grabbed her hair and yanked her along with him toward a tree, all the while grumbling about idiotic programmers and going too far with realism. Turning back to Theodore, she grinned. "Now, let's have some fun before I send you on your way." Amos finished his business behind the tree and settled down on a nearby boulder. He smiled as he heard the familiar sounds of flesh on flesh and moans of pleasure before he spread his legs apart and ordered the sergeant to clean him up. An hour later, a sweaty body flopped down next to him, leaning against his side panting slightly. Turning his head, Amos didn't see the boy turning back to Brea. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I ordered him to present himself at the Mallorn mines in twenty-four hours or commit suicide where he stands." Brea giggled to herself and thought absentmindedly. I wonder if he will make it? A loud sound took her from her slight trance, and she absentmindedly looked around. She found the Captain slumped over the two bodies of the youths they had been playing with earlier. The point of a long dagger stuck from the man's back "it would seem our dear Captain has abandoned us." Brea giggled while kicking the Seargent back onto her rump. The hatred boiling from the woman's eyes nearly made Brea flinch, but she got herself under control and laughed. Brea smirked before feigning a saddened expression. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't order the oaf to kill himself. I told him to put my poor pets out of their misery because it hurts me to see them like that." After a moment of staring into eyes that seemed to say if I ever find a way, I will kill you slowly, she shrugged."Oh, fine, say goodbye to your husband and kids but make it quick. We need to get moving. With those parting words, Amos and Brea got to their feet and re-entered the carriage. - - - - - Sergeant Tracy, the former personal bodyguard of the Queen, wife of the captain of the King's guard, walked stoically toward the remains of the last family she had on this world. Well, no, not entirely true: she still had her twin brother, but sometimes she questioned whether he was related. She was doing her best to keep her tears at bay. She knew that Demon was probably still watching and didn't want to give her the satisfaction. Stopping next to the bodies, she stood staring, trying to build up the courage to lift her husband's cloak that had billowed out to cover them all in death. Taking a deep breath, she bent over to roll her husband off the children. However, the body caught on something, and she lost her grip, letting him fall back to his original position. Lips trembling, she ran around the other side, sure she had heard a gasp when the body fell back. With shaking hands, she pulled the cloak from the children first, but she immediately knew the sound did not come from them as both their necks were slit, and no blood flowed from the wounds. Hot tears did fall, splashing on the faces of her children as she wept, holding both heads in her lap. She soon heard the gasp again. Jerking her head toward the noise, she saw her husband's hand twitch slightly. Gently laying the children's head down, she moved closer and lifted her husband's cloak away. The pommel of the dagger still lodged in his chest was wrapped in the children's hands and tied in place with a yellow scarf she had given him many years ago before they were married. That's one way to get around the do not kill yourself rule placed on them when becoming the Demon's property. Tracy stared at the sight for several seconds before angry eyes met her husband. "So that's it you're just leaving me alone like this, taking your own life after taking the lives of our children?" Her eyes widened when she saw him breathe in long, and words began to flow from his mouth, something that no Andorian had done in almost twenty years. "My love, it was the only way to break the geas, I had to speak. I have failed my King, I have failed my family, but I will not fail in this one last mission. Listen well, the Prince still lives. He must be protected at all costs." after some gurgling and coughing, he began again: "His twentieth birthday will be any day now find him as soon as possible.-coughing- I don't know how much Lady Rachel has told him." Tracy opened her eyes wider in shock, then shook his shoulder roughly before gained control of herself. The sergeant made sure she couldn't be seen from the carriage or the people still kneeling on the road. She began using the sign language that is used by all Andorians to communicate amongst themselves. Now she understood why he had to break the geas. It's a well-kept secret that the geas will allow an Andurian to say his last words to his closest loved ones so long as an enemy is not within hearing range. Tracy stopped to think for a second. She had to be careful about what she said, even with hand gestures, as speaking of national secrets means immediate death. "Are you sure?." He could only muster the energy for a nod and pointed at the dwindling spot where the naked young man sprinted across the rocky flatland. Tracy nearly jumped to her feet to sprint after the boy, but still strong hands grabbed her arm. "No, this is why we have stayed under their thumbs this long. Don't screw it all up. Now, follow our plan." Tracy felt a small paper passed to her, and her husband gave a cheeky smile "just get that to the caravan leader. He will know what to do." Bending down, she gave him a last kiss and watched the light fade from his eyes, with that same cheeky smile he had when they first met, on his face. She had not seen that smile in twenty years. She had not seen any happiness since the Outworlders came. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head to pray for her husband and two children. You have not failed our Kingdom, and, my love, Andoor will rise again. Standing up, she shot one last look at the boy in the distance, then hardened her resolve. Turning around, she noticed a man glancing at her from the corner of his eyes, gesturing to him, she said. "Give them a proper Andorian burial." After getting a slight nod of assent, she strode to the carriage and ordered them to move out. As soon as they moved, she slid up beside the small man at the rear. She slid a note into his hands and signaled for him to deliver it to an older man at the front of the caravan without anyone else noticing. The young man nodded and almost too quick for her to see his hands flashed, and the old man gave a slight jerk before settling back down as if he didn't notice a thing. Good, she thought, you don't live to be as old as him without learning a thing or two. Schooling her face into what she thought was a typical expression, she moved forward. She inadvertently met Brea's eyes as she walked by the carriage window. In a sickly sweet voice, Brea spoke. "Careful or I might pluck out those pretty eyes and gobble them up." Tracy could hear the demon's girlish giggles from ahead of the carriage for several miles, but she only gave a smug calculating smile as she and the four men began planning their next move. Her mind occasionally went back to the young man and sent prayers to the Almighty to guide his way and protect him on his journey. ----- When the carriage turned a bend and was out of sight, the people kneeling in the street stood, glaring hatefully toward the carriage. Garwin Barnabus, or as he is known by most, Gramps, stood as well, only far more slowly, feeling his joints groan and pop as he did. Gramps watched the carriage until it was entirely out of sight before reaching over and taking a small folded paper pinned to the side of his wagon by a slim throwing knife. After removing the note, he casually handed the knife to the old woman next to him, and it vanished into the folds of her sleeves instantly before unfolding the letter. As soon as he finished reading it, he handed it around while staring off into the distance, a thoughtful look on his face. Finally, he turned to the old woman and nodded toward the still barely visible spot on the horizon. Bowing once, she sprinted off toward the missing Prince of Andoon. Gramps watched his granddaughter sprint off with a bloodthirsty grin on his face. Turning to the rest of the group, he began giving out orders to get the area cleaned up and bury the bodies. Turning to the man beside him, he spoke in a menacing growl. "It would seem that it is almost time to begin the final stage of our revenge. What do you think General Barnabus?" The same grin spread across the General's face as he responded. "It's about time Duke Barnabus." Turning around to look at the faces around them, all of them had the same hungry look with a new fire burning in their eyes. Even the children, although they weren't sure why the adults were so severe. They both turned back toward the direction the two youths were sprinting toward. They watched the sunset, both thinking the same thought: Choose your Champions well, my Prince.