"Aye, what you sayin', codger?," yelled Tree Viper good-naturedly. "Warne, I ain't be takin' orders from yeh'. Tway, I ain't takin' none of yer' food. Who know what yeh' done teh' it? Thray, I hope yer' lookin' up, tway, cuz' I'm tellin' 'ee that they're comin' from th' above!" He got into the circle, contrary to his shouts about not taking orders, and drew a pair of daggers.

The flames lept higher and higher from the acculumulated pile of brush. Greyson could smell the peculiar scent of dry pine, and heat withered leatherleaf. It made a loud popping sound as it burned as pockets of sap still within the wood burst. Battle is the crucible, the thing that tests a man's mettle (Not metal)

The weak, and flawed were broken, dissolved in the heat. The strong survived, were made stronger. This was the fire that tempered men into weapons. Within the straps of the steel shield, he flexed his hand. The falchion hung ready in his hand.

He was ready for the next wild man to enter the circle to throw his spear. He himself had no fear of the weapon, brigandine armor offered good protection against the spear, and the shield complete protection from the spear, as well as from the bow.

He would rush the wild man, hopefully before he could complete his attack. It could throw the savage off balance, cause his attack to miss it's intended target. That could be valuable enough, as not all of the present cohort were adequately armored for combat.

If he could interrupt the savage, upset his retreat, a single swing of the falchion would be one less enemy to worry about. Greyson had been in tighter spots before, but then, he had the support of doughty soldiers and trained militia at his back. This tatterdemalion band might be lucky to survive the night alive.

"Fate favors the bold." he said as he tried to picj out where the next attack would come from. The wild men would try to divide them, pull them out of the circle. The next attack would very likely come from the opposite side as the previous...

Deja, still clutching her bow, gazed at the other four members of this unfortunate group. She knew nothing of these so-called wild men, but from the expressions that a few of her comrades wore she felt unnerved. The flames were brilliant against the dark night sky as they licked the timbers they devoured. Deja stood with her back to the fire peering over her surroundings. She had left her home in search for adventure, in search of herself. Was this however more that she had bargained for? ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œ Guess I will find that out if I am still alive tomorrow,ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬? Deja mumbles under breath as she slowly exhales, preparing herself for an emerging battle.

"Foul Moriandar, once the stewards of the Corell towers. Now nothing more than the shadow of former glory."

He roared the battle cry of Halidon as he lifted his spear towards the fading stars.

"Com maren Halidon, Thale en Bregen."

The howling of the wild men seized, only the wind singing in the trees was left but utter silence. He waited. Aki took no heed of the others, but if he had judged them right, they would be a valuable asset if battle came. The mercenarie named Greyson seemed a stout warrior indeed, Aaron should be able to crack a few skulls open too.Tree Viper would at least survive, he did not doubt that the man could disappear in the woods if the battle was lost. Deja should be able to shoot down some of their foes before close combat was a fact. If she would make it then, he did not know.

Then they heard a sudden clear horn-call go up ringing into the sky. Far over wood and hill it echoed; and so compelling was that call that Aki himself almost turned and dashed back. But he stood utterly still, awaiting the woodsmens reply.

A curious gurgling noise was heard, it seemed that they were laughing.At the edge of the trees several shaded figures appeared.

"Arh hoy, long since has it been that we the Moriandar has been called uponby our true name. We recognize the battle cry of the Halidon, but alas you are alone. There are none of your brethren with you. Tell me Halidon man, why should we not slay you all? You are trodding the holy ground of Moriandar, at the heart of Rhur. And Rhur still stands, despite the fall of our towers."

"Be this true?" Asked Aki."Do the wild men still know the language of trade, the common language of Ankalar? And it seems also that you remember the tribes of Halidon. Then surely you have not forgotten the oath of old, from the Morian wars?"

Aki shifted his stance in order to meet any surprise attacks, he gestured for the others to be ready also.

"Oath this and oath that", they laughed again, a hideous laugh.

"Yes we remember the oath of old, but you are not all men of the mountains. I see plain dwellers and lowlanders among you, they are under no protection. We can butcher them as we please. Must we remind you lot once again that you are trespassing on holy ground?"

The bonfire was burning bright and their figures was easy marks against the bright flame. But Aki did not worry, he knew they would not shoot them from afar. The wild men wanted a battle of honor, nor would many men attack one of their party together. There was no glory in backstabbing, they wanted to stand out, return home to their wifes with tales of courage and victory.

"Must I remind the Moriandar." Aki cried.

"Must I remind the people of Corell that their oath was not for the Halidon alone? But for all men in Ankalar. It was an agreement of peace, meant to last a hundred years after the Morian wars? Here be only people of Ankalar and no men from outside its borders. We are all protected by the oath!"

The wild men howled from the trees.

"And must we remind you and the plain dwellers that you yourself broke this oath by entering Rhur? We spit on you, the oath has been broken long ago when civilized men started to expand their territory and farm our lands.Can not your companions speak up? What have you to say? Why should we not hack you down on the ground where you stand?

Aaron watched the wildmen with trepidation. Dying tonight wasn't high on his list of priorities. He grasped his mace tightly, his knuckles white with the strain.

"I don't know anything about oaths and towers or anything like that, but I at least, meant no intrusion. I had no idea this was sacred ground, or that I would be performing a taboo action by coming here. I am more than willing to leave this place, if that is what's required, but I would prefer to do it alive and in one piece. Is there anything we can do to rectify our breach of etiquette?"

Deja quickly glanced around before standing to her full height, her shoulders back and her head held high. " It is true we meant no intrusion, " with this statement she bowed her head to show humility. ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œ We meant no harm. Please allow us at least the chance to explain ourselves."She raised her head and met the wild man in front of her eye to eye she could tell from the manner in which they spoke that they were prideful, but that they also respected courage and she hoped they would recognize hers. Staring into those eyes one thought bounced of the walls of her mind I hope they are curious enough to hear me out

"We speak truely," Greyson said, "We mean no trespass, and did not know that this was a holy place." What sort of savages would consider a ring of stones splattered with blood a holy place, he wondered to himself. This was hardly the time for wondering, though he had much to think of. In his time dealing with, or less pleasantly, killing, the wild men, he had never heard one so much as utter a single coherent word. There would hopefully be time for ponderings later.

"I knew not of oaths, nor of towers. I see both have been broken. We warriors of Ankalar broke your towers, and should you seek to do battle with us this night, we will break you yet again." He said with a smirk.

"Or as Viper said, you can go bugger your uncles." he said with satisfaction. Some might see it as taunting, but the Wild Men, these Moriander, respected strength. If for a second they though that they were weak, they would already lay dead in the circle, offerings to either dark appetite, or heathen gods.

Men. Deja thought to herself always got to do things the hard way. Deja quickly stepped forward once again drawing the attention back to herself... Palms held out and face up, a sign of peace, she looked back at the wild men. "Forgive the arrogance of my fellow companions they seem to be weak minded.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬? She tried a bit of humor. " We have been instructed to meet here on your holy grounds of all places. We were given these strange parcels that I must admit we know nothing about. Strangers lured us here to our possible deaths. I admit I might be naive in my knowledge of the world but my curiosity is great. Will you allow us to open our mysterious parcels so that we might better understand why we have been lured here?"

Silence, the wild men had drawn back into the trees. Aki bit his lip, he knew they had drawn back to discuss what to do.They would probarbly attack, he and his companions would not stand a chance. He knew he could slay two wild men, three at most if they rushed.What would it matter, there were probarbly fifty Moriandar or so surrounding them.

A saying crossed his mind, one that he had heard long ago; A pawn becomes powerfull once it crosses the board.

He could make a run for it and easily loose them in the wilderness.But where would that leave this group? He could not abandon them, both out of morals and curiosity about the mission.He hoped he would cross the board and make it out of this situation though. Crossing the board did not have to mean running away, their only shot was to talk themselves out of it. But this Deja should not have mentioned their mission and least of all the parcels. Right now they were all pawns. Small pieces in a large puzzle.He hated it.

The silence was broken by several howls, they had decided.Out of the woods came a tall man, he had well muscled shoulders and a strong figure. Braided black hair fell down his neck. He stepped into the circle of light surrounding the bonfire.He was clad in a greybear hide, leather moccasins and several lesser skins around his waste. Wood pearls and bones was his jewelery and his body was heavily tatooed with pagan markings.There was an aura of authority surrounding him.

"Rhendalen barvien, greetings brave ones." He said.

"My name is Shara-gur, and I must admit that I am a fool for bravery. The Halidon man, the tree climber and the sell sword have displayed such.

The treaty has been broken by your kind Sell sword, yet I do not blame you. It is your nature to do such things to earn your precious gold. The tree climber is a fool to the core, yet a brave one. And you Halidon man; even if the Ankalarians have broken their promise, the Halidons have not.I will let you live, but only the three of you though.The priest is scourging the ground with his very presence, our gods must befurious. Never in the history of our people has a western gods priest walked this earth. Not even in the Morian wars did this occur. He must be sacrifized to please the gods and our ancestors.As for the woman, she must burn for sure. Females walking in the Rhur is taboo. And it can not be ignored."

Shara-gur paused, he looked grim in the flickering light.His face showed no signs of mercy. Behind him a score of wild men emerged from the vegitation.

"And lastly, leave the packages here. These are my terms. Obey them and live, try to save your comrades and die. It will be a glorious and honorouble fight, but quite short I am afraid."

The Moriandar bodyguard of Shara-gur gave a small laugh as they started to thump their weapons against their black leather shields.

Deja stepped forward her fists now clenched and her teeth bared. "You stupid. How could think that there arrogant show of disgusting manhood bravery. You obviously do not understand the term bravery for if you did you would understand bravery is being scared but doing something anyway not being scared and saying something stupid!ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬? Deja now breathing hard because of her screaming stepped up to the Shara-gur and looked him in the eye "if not for men as well as women in a coming together in a union you would not be here. As for this god I know nothing of your people and so nothing of your god I ask you know allow me to make a test of myself. I ask your god that if I haven't the right to be here to strike me down.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬? Deja's now threw herself to her knees and threw her head back staring at the heavens, "Take this burden off of your men and let me fall by your hands. This is your holy grounds and if you wish me not to be here; if you wish me not an equal then strike me down.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬? Deja lowered her head determination set in her eyes she had either just done the smartest or dumbest thing in her life. She only does it out of sheer determination to survive. If she not be struck down they either have the choice of letting her live or going against there god.

Tree Viper weighed his options somewhat-carefully, as carefully as his reckless mind was possible of weighing such a decision.He grinned, stepped from the circle, and threw his package at the barbarian chief's feet. He sheathed his daggers."I already got my money. I got nothing else t' find here. Take th' package an' sod the bird. An' sod the priest, fer' that matter. I dun' need his preaching." said the bandit, and folded his arms insolently across his chest.

Greyson was torn between the values he had held for years as a loyal soldier and man-at-arms to the Lord of Thalion, and the values of the mercenary he had become afterwards.

The mercenary told him to accept the terms. The package was delivered, and he would survive. He didn't owe any of these people anything, he none of them. Tree Viper, and Aki would survive, but they struck him as survivors. Aaron, the priest, what was he to him? The man was a fallen priest, reeking or some strange drink that he seemed to lack. So many had died for the priests and their ways, perhaps it was fitting that in this case, the priest die for others instead.

He looked towards Deja, kneeling in the circle commanding the pagan god to strike her down for her trespass. Either she had great courage, or was patently insane. The mercenary whispered the second was the truth, and the gods looked out for the insane, or so the proverb went.

Eliza, my beautiful Eliza, she too had such spirit

The soldier, the one he had been for far longer than the mercenary spoke differently. It was the duty of the soldier to protect, and defend those who could not do so themselves. For two long decades his sword and shield had protected the young, and the weak, the women and the laborers. Shara-Gur's words rang inside of his head, stinging him with their barb of truth. 'For your precious gold,' Soldier for twenty years, mercenary for three, and he had neatly, and obliviously tucked away everything he had stood for. For him to stand aside and let the wild men slaughter the priest and the woman would d**n him more surely than any blasphemy, or gross sin.

"Shara-Gur, there is one thing I prize above all else, and it is not the shine of gold." Greyson said, his heart began to race as the weight of what he was going to do started setting in. "That is the honor of battle. Your terms are generous. I challenge your bravest warrior to a single duel, here in this holy place. Let our blood make apology for the trespass given unknowingly."

"If I should win, for my companions, all of them, I would ask the forgiveness of your gods, and youself, and the freedom to leave this place unharmed. I will speak nothing of the packages, for they are not what is important now.

"Should I lose, let my death atone for the trespass of one of my companions." Greyson said. He sheathed the heavy falchion, and unbuckled it. He unbuckled his shield, and armor, letting both fall to the ground in a heap.

He drew a wicked long knife from it's sheath. His skin prickled in the night time heat, bare to the stars and the stones.

"You are a fool, do you really think that the gods will act upon your meaningless challenge? The Gods do not meddle in affairs of humans.Least of all they would bother to strike one such as you down.They trust us, the Moriandar to act upon their wishes.You just asked me to slay you woman."

Shara-Gur paused as Tree Viper threw the package before him.The Moriandar were slowly entering the clearing from all directions,forming a circle around the Rhur.

"You there, you made a wise choise. You are free to leave the Heart of the Forest. But never return to our lands again, then you will be hunted down and killed like game."

Shara-Gur unstrapped his Marshte* hanging at his belt.

Suddenly Greyson spoke, as he finished his last sentence Shara-Gur grinned.

"I am ready, Shara-Gur."

His words echoed trough the clearing. The drumming seized.

"Arh hoi, Amre hentir" Shara-Gur cried.

"You said that you wished to fight my best warrior? Well not only am I the best warrior in all of Corell, but also you challenged me personally by telling me that you were ready for me. A duel it shall be. The woman and the priest shall have to wait in patience for their turn."

He unstrapped his Marshte completly and drew the weapon.

"Drop the knifes, knifes are for backstabbing assasins and not warriors. Your Falchion is more of a match against my Marshte."

The sound of weapons drumming against shields started again, ever louder.The wild men began chanting as different rythms roamed the warm night.

Not to be intimidated by the leader of the Morainder, Greyson stood his ground. Not taking his eyes away from Shara-Gur he drew his sword. The falchion felt good in his hand, the weight of the blade and it's heft. It was also deceptive. Shara-Gur's marshte was lighter and faster than his blade, plus his blade had not been used all day to hack through undergrowth. Sharpened or not, the blade was still deadly, just slightly less so. There would be no razor quick cuts, just the savage ripping of flesh, the crush of bone, and the hot, coppery smell of blood.

Perhaps it was a smart move on Shara-Gur's part. Perhaps he was less skilled with the knife, or it was as he said, that the knife was for assassins. Or it was a load of muerta. It didn't matter, only winning, and surviving mattered.

He thought of Eliza's grave, the cold earth and the pile of stones. If he survived this muddled affair he would return to those stones and lay a bier of flowers on it.

Shara-Gur would likely attack with a quick thrust or feint with his weapon. The wild men attacked quickly, but those he fought were driven by glory, and the desire to find accolades among their kin. This man was different, driven by his beliefs and gods. He would fight smart, dangerous. The falchion had superior weight and power, and it was likely that he had been holding the weapon longer than this Shara-Gur. It would very likely come down to skill and luck.

Greyson took the sword in a two handed meatbone grip. It would be faster, and more controllable, more able to deliver the needed blow. The two men closed the distance between them, circling slowly, feeling each other out like two hostile wolves. He held the blade high, blocking any attack to his shoulders or his head, either of those would be easy to block. The weight of the falchion could be brought to bear and the man would die as it's blade sheared through his skull, or destroyed his shoulder.

He seemed to leave his midsection open to attack, but it was a trap. If Shara-Gur extended to take advantage of the opening, he would find the wicked blade of the falchion shearing through his wrist, arm, or through the wooden haft of his weapon. Not so much different than punching into a formation of Halidonian pikemen and lopping off the ends of their pikes.

Or the wild man could do something he didnt expect. If he was lucky he would be able to block the attack, or evade it. He could also simply end up crippled, or dead.

"Ayu meigh Eliza, ayu meigh ud tu vam," He said as soft as the breath of a butterfly.

As Shara-Gur moved steadily towards his advesary he quickly eyed the others. No one seemed to interfere, which was good. How would they respond when this mercinary was lying on the ground,warm blood flowing freely from his severed neck? If they were smart they would try to escape. The Sellsword had only bought one of their wretched lives with this duel. But the others would not be killed right away. He would have to make sure that they did not know any more than him. They probarbly knew less. Fools.

He sized the merc; his falchion was heavy and the man strong. He looked grizzled, hardened by many battles. He would have to be careful.One hit would be fatal by the looks of him. Speed was the key.Feel with weight and act with haste. He smirked.It could be his blood on the grass tonight.

He noticed that the mid part of the defence was left open, not only strong but clever too. But old Shara-Gur had a few tricks to show as well.

He swung his Marshte from the right towards the unguarded stomach only to alter the blow towards the throat. The Marshte hissed trough the warm summer air.

Greyson had only a fraction of a second to react. He had thought that Shara was going to take the bait and attack his open midsection. At the last moment he recognized the feint and was barely able to drop his sword in time to block the blow. Steel struck steel and the metallic sound rang clearly through the night air, the holy place had become an ampitheathre for the viewing of what pagan gods might deign to look upon the spectacle.

Shara was a wily opponent, one worthy of respect for skill alone. Greyson rotated the falchion, and the marshte with it, clockwise away from his center. Both weapons were neutralized, neither man had the strength, or leverage to make an effective strike or thrust.

With both blades still moving away to that place where they would have to disengage, Greyson lunged forward to deliver a stunning headbutt. Were his hand free he would try for a punch, but both hands were required to control the falchion, to keep the viper quick marshte away from his throat.

As the weapons disengaged, Shara-Gur maneuvered to avoid the headbutt of his opponent. He swept past the right side of the merc, attempting to strike the side of the man, just below the ribs where the flesh was soft and organs close by. He could not tell if it was a hit or not, it all flashed by to fast. The Sellsword made no noise to indicate that he was hurt. If he indeed had been wounded it would be a razor cut, thin and probarbly not deep. He admired this man allready, he was skilled in combat and had a brave heart.Shara-Gut did not wish to kill him, it would truly be a waste.But he could not stop the duel as it would be a dishonour both to him and the Moriandar. If only there was a way to stunn him or knock him out without blodshed... He would try to disarm him first.

He barely kept his balance as he swirled around and flashed his marshte in a fine arc towards the hilt of the falchion.

Shara-Gur dodged the headbutt with the grace of a cat, the blade of the marshte caressed Greyson's side. He could feel the blade graze a thin and shallow cut. Blood would come from it quickly, but thankfully there had not been much power behind the strike. It might have ended the duel had Shara been able to put the strength of his arm behind it rather than just the momentum of the blade itself.

Greyson tried to parry a disarming strike away. The parry would have been true had his grip held. Instead the blade seemed to drift out of his stunned hand. He could feel the three days of chopping vegetation burning in his arms, in his hand. Sweat stung the cut on his side. The falchion clattered against one of the menhirs, its blade flashed once in the moonlight before slipping into the gloom that pooled at the base of the great stone.

He had hoped to win this duel, no one went into such a matter hoping to lose. There would be no bier of daisies and roses laid on Eliza's cairn, alone next to the shuddering pool. Perhaps it was fitting, in a greater sense. Wasnt execution the fate of the mercenary? There would be no stone cairn for Greyson, no monument or memorial, just another dead sell-sword.

Greyson made fists out of his hands. It was folly to try and fight Shara-Gur unarmed, but even a man falling from a cliff will try to fly.

At that moment, Tree Viper, who had disappeared into the foliage, descended like some sort of monkey from the trees above, falling feet first toward Shara-Gur's shoulders, daggers glittering."AYE!" he shouted, grinning like a berzerker.

Aki watched as Tree Viper stopped suddenly mid-air.He was dangling in a rope tied to one of the higher branches.He had not noticed at all that this bandit from the Kestor wood had sneaked away. The sight was to comic, Aki laughed aloud as he had not done in years.

Shara-Gur laughed as well as it came apparent to him what had happened.This man had tried to jump him from above to save his comrade.But one of the Moriandar must have spotted him while he disappeared into the foliage. Then followed him up into the tree and tied a rope around his foot before he had descended and tried to jump.

"So, bandit. Explain yourself."

Shara-Gur seized to laugh, he motioned to Greyson to pick up his Falchion. Then he went over to the dangling figure of Tree Viper and held the Marhste inches away from his throat.

"This is one of those situations where you should think well before answering. You have just interrupted a duel of honor. Such things are not to be taken lightly..."

Greyson lifted the falchion and it was as heavy as death in his hand. Tree Viper had likely just saved, or at least prolonged his life. Perhaps there was still hope that he would survive these woods, and the wild men and their broken oaths and taunting, and the man with the rotten teeth.

There was still hope that he would be able to sit next to the shuddering pool and speak with Elizas grave. He knew there was not but the dross of life, decayed flesh and bone under the heap of stones, but it consoled him to speak with her in death as he had during life. Alone he would speak his heart to the cairn, and knew that she heard him.

He took up a skin of water and drank quickly form it, perhaps the cool water might refresh him some. It could certainly not hurt. To interfere with Shara and Tree Viper could possibly make the transgression worse than it already was. Besides, diplomacy and negotiation were not the field of the warrior, those were the realms of the priest, of the noble and the merchant.

Deja sat there her head still bowed to the ground her jaw set. The fool of a Birdman came back interuppted a sacred duel. Deja fingered the package that was she held firmly in her left hand. She peered upward and looked at the birdman; why she wondered had he comeback. These people meant nothing to him he could have walked out of here a live man instead something drove him to return. Her curiosity was peaked.

This was becoming insane. First these savages want to burn the girl and himself, then the apparent leader gets into a duel with the sell-sword and now the dirty bird-man tries to dive-bomb the savages and gets stuck on a rope. Aaron licked his lips, his mouth dry. Oh what he wouldn't give for even a small drink right now. He felt the package against his chest within his robes and wondered what in the world it could contain to get them in this much trouble this quickly. At least the duel and now the birdman's misadventure seemed to have gotten the attention of the savages away from fires and sacrifices...

Tree Viper offered the barbarian a weak grin. "Heh...heh-heh... Didnay' see that warne coming, aye?" His face slowly shifted to crimson in a mixture of embarrasement and awkward position.His eyes flicked around, he twisted, spat, and a silent moment passed. "Err... Well, yeh' see... I had a harsh childhood, an' I didnay' git' any affec-affec-," he stumbled over this word, "-affecshin' from me Ma, an' me Pa, he...."He rambled off into a long, involved, semi-nonsensical description of the domestic life from Hell. His eyes shot a look of silent pleading towards the mercenary, who stood behind looking half-dead.