When all else fails, scenery. Add as much detail into what's directly by and out and around the characters.

And if you need a buffer for ideas, add me on yahoo. I can't stay dedicated enough for a novel, but I can definitely support.

Terrible advice. Leave as much out of the scenery as possible. Make something terrible happen to the character when you can't think of anything else, and then watch them claw their sorry out of it. Make them suffer for hurting your head. Not that I've been able to stay dedicated to anything I write either...

Jonas wondered what was going through the mind of Tobias. He could only imagine how he felt; being such a firm believer in the Goddess and her teachings, only to listen to a ragtag group of heathens decry against her for no reason. He wondered if Tobias wanted to harm the cultists on any level. Jonas warranted that he did, but it was a sign of the Monk to stay calm even in the most adverse situations. This spoke for his actions the day before. Jonas had never seen Tobias lose his composure in such a way since he was a young man; he must have been angry beyond all belief.

Soon, the two were nearing the camp. Jonas would approach the camp normally, from the front, and Tobias would sweep around and enter the woods. Jonas was a little worried, because though Tobias was stout and a glorious friend inside and outside of battle, he wasn’t especially discreet. He trusted him nonetheless.

A simple nod between the two friends was all that was needed. Tobias headed for the forest, while Jonas approached the camp. He was soon noticed, and a few people came out to greet him.

“Hello there! Are you approaching our camp?” One of the said. There were two men, and they were unarmed. They were also very young, one with blonde hair and the other with dark hair. This made Jonas’ job easy on one hand, and potentially more tragic on the other.

“Indeed I am, sirs, are you in the habit of entertaining guests?” Jonas asked.

“Not especially. What do you have there?”

“I’m the butcher’s delivery man and a good cook as well. I hear that Lord William’s favorite dish is Rabbit Stew, and the butcher sent me as an act of good faith.” Jonas opened the icebox and showed the lads the rabbit. “I’m here to cook him a delicious meal. To cook for everyone, if it pleases them.” Jonas was a great fighter, but an even better liar. He chose his skills carefully. The two men looked at eachother skeptically.

“Why in the world would a butcher send you out here with a dead rabbit with intention to cook for all of us?” the other lad asked cleverly.

“A fine question. You see, the butcher and I, we sympathize with your Lord, but now is not the time for us to publicly proclaim such a thing. We are businessmen, after all, and doing so may turn some of our customers away. It could even get us kicked out of Windrow. We would like to show our support this way, however. Besides,” Jonas continued, “This is a prime rabbit, and who in their right mind can turn down a free meal?” The two thought about it for a moment. One laughed nervously and said;

“Are you sure you aren’t a spy sent here to poison the lot of us?” The other young man laughed, as did Jonas.

“I assure you, I’m not going to do any such thing.” Jonas said. And he wasn’t lying; technically the herbalist was killing everyone. Not Jonas. “Here’s what I need you to do. I’ve heard about that incident in the square yesterday, and I’d like to help keep morale up by surprising everyone with the most delicious rabbit stew they’ve ever eaten. I need you two to let the regular cook in on the plan, and then I’ll take over from there. Can you do that?” Jonas was toying with them now; they were young indeed and eager to please. They were listening to him now so attentively. It was quite a shame that Jonas would probably murder these boys.

“We can do that. I’m good friends with the chef, I’m sure he’ll be much obliged to take a break. Come,” They led Jonas into the camp. He got odd looks from many people. The camp was just that; a group of tents and small huts where a few dozen people were staying temporarily.

Jonas wondered for a moment if he would get to see this William fellow that these people are following. What sort of charismatic character must he be, to get so many followers in such a short time? Jonas supposed that this man was simply saying what a number of people were thinking; encouraging them to act on their blasphemous thoughts, live their lives however it pleases them. Of course if Jonas were a common man with nothing better to do than wonder about the existence of the Goddess, he’d entertain a thought similar to all these people as well. There seemed to be one thing that these people weren’t accounting for. Sure, it was all good and well for them to want control over their own destinies, to live their lives sinfully.

But how in the world did everything come to be, if not by the Goddess’ hand? And any theory any of them offered up would be far more ridiculous than the idea of the Goddess and Paradise.

Jonas chose not to dwell on it. He walked leisurely onward, toward the tent he had seen the men bring the cauldron from the night before. He began to wonder if his plan would work, and how well.

They entered the small tent. There was the cauldron, and a fire was being stoked. There was no smell of anything cooking as of yet, which was a good sign. The cook was sitting idly by, watching the fire. He stood upon the entry of the three men.
“Hello? Who’s this?” He asked. The two men came to a simultaneous realization that they hadn’t gotten Jonas’ name.

“My name is Saul,” Jonas said, and before he could go any further, the fair-haired young man blurted out Jonas plan in full detail. He then smiled at Jonas. The cook sat there for a short time, poking at the fire every few seconds.

“Well then. You go on about your business; I’m going straight to bed. Up cooking all day…” The cook shambled out of the tent, mumbling the whole way.

“Have you any vegetables and spices?” Jonas asked the lads.

“Of course, we keep them in storage.” The dark haired man said. Jonas gave them an expectant look. “Oh! We’ll fetch everything you need.” The two left the tent. Jonas took this opportunity to start to skin to rabbit. He thought about putting in the poison, as this would be the ideal time. But with the pot steaming, some of the poison may lose its effect.

The young men quickly returned with their arms full of spices and vegetables of all sorts.

“We grabbed every sort we could find…we weren’t sure how you make your special stew, but we figured carrots and potatoes were essential…” The blonde said. “We don’t have a whole lot, but the cook brought a bit of supplies when he joined camp.”

“That’s fine.” Jonas said, as he motioned for them to put the stuff down. “What are your names, anyway?” He was tired of them being ‘The blonde’ and ‘the one with dark hair’ in his mind.

“My name is Albas.” Said the blonde.

“And mine is Caston.” The other answered. Jonas nodded, and began to strip the meat from the bones of the rabbit.

“And where are you boys from?” Jonas asked.

“We’re from Haven,” Albas said. Haven was a town a few days north of Windrow. It was a very small town, relying mostly on agriculture and livestock sales. It did well enough; it was notorious for the incredibly hard-working people that inhabited the town.

“Why did you leave home and join this…organization, if I may ask?” Jonas said. The boys looked uneasy. Caston spoke.

“We were never sure of the Goddess. How can you believe in something you’re not sure of?” He said. “Lord William came and told us that it was alright to question, to even disbelieve. Live as we please,” He continued. Albas nodded. Jonas shook his head. It was refreshing to meet some young people who thought for themselves, but someone should have taught them that there was a time and place for thinking, and there was a separate time and place for saying and doing.

“What is it?” Albas asked.

“Nothing.” Jonas answered. He was finished preparing the rabbit. He salted and spiced it, and tossed it into the pot. He began to slice the vegetables he would be using. Caston eyed him curiously.

“Where did you get that knife? It doesn’t look like a chef’s knife.” Jonas cursed himself under his breath. He had instinctively grabbed one of his hidden throwing knives and had begun to use it as a cooking utensil.

“I found it lying around. It’s sharper than most knives I’ve used.” Jonas lied. He went on about the stew. He wasn’t a superb cook, but he could manage. All it would take was one bite of the stew, hopefully. The taste wouldn’t matter. Jonas had learned one thing, though. These boys certainly weren’t stupid. He began to contemplate how he was going to deal with them. He wondered if there was any way he could spare them without losing sight of the plan. Jonas felt like they were so lost, they didn’t deserve to die. These other men, ones who left their families, their homes, their shops, deserved to be judged.

Jonas lived by his saying that money comes before morals, however.

Maybe he was growing soft in his age. He had more than enough money back home, maybe the old drive just wasn’t there anymore. The thirst, the need. Jonas sat down on the cook’s stool to let the stew cook awhile. He wasn’t sure when he would slip in the poison. He decided to pick the boys’ brains a bit more.

“Do you boys have family back in Haven? Women, perhaps?” Jonas asked.

“Yes, we both have families. I’m an only child, Caston has siblings. Neither of us were involved with women when we left.” Albas looked pained, almost.

“Our lives were bland, constant work. From sunup ‘til sundown, and then more chores afterward. What kind of life is that?” Caston said.

“What kind of life, indeed,” Jonas mused. “Were you looking for adventure, then? Or a simple excuse to escape your chores?” He asked.

Caston spoke once again, “I suppose so. To some degree, anyhow. We believe in Lord William’s teachings, also.” Jonas fixed him with a stare for a moment. A piercing look, one that made you question everything you’ve ever done. He moved from Caston to Albas.

“Are you sure this is the kind of adventure you want to be a part of?” Jonas asked quietly. Albas looked down at his feet, while his cohort responded yet again.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are you doing here?” Jonas said. “What do you hope to accomplish? Do you not realize that real or not, right or wrong, the Goddess’ teachings are in place for a very good reason?”

“Are they?” Caston asked, his eyes narrowing. Jonas nearly laughed. Such impudence. Goodness, he sometimes missed being young and full of fire, rather than old and full of cool, calm wisdom. He sickened himself, at times.

“Yes, in fact, they are. No one wants to be stolen from, killed, or taken advantage of. The Goddess states that those things are sins, and that if they are committed, you are damned. It’s for the good of everybody. Whether real or not, the threat of eternal damnation keeps the order. People also want something to look forward to after death, of course, and Vera gives us that. What kind of pointless existence are we leading, if not to aspire to something better after we pass away?” Caston looked even more suspicious now.

“Are you really a chef, Saul? Is that even your real name?” He asked. Jonas was startled for just a second at the uttering of his fake name. He had almost forgotten who he had claimed to be. And this kid was very sharp. Almost too sharp.

Jonas smiled.

“Of course I am. What else could I be?” He winked at Caston, and went about preparing the stew. Caston left the tent. Albas soon followed him. Jonas hoped on everything he ever cherished that they weren’t going to alert the authorities. As soon as they left, Jonas quickly administered the poison. Before he did so, he dished out two bowls of stew and set them aside. The soup was nearly done.

The tent flap soon flew back open, and Caston came back inside, followed by Albas.

“Are you almost done with that stew? You’re making me nervous, I don’t think I like you.” He challenged. Jonas smiled once again.

“It’s finished. I already set aside your first helping.” He handed one bowl to Caston, and one to Albas. They smelled the stew first, and then ate.

“This is pretty good…” Albas said.

“I was expecting better, from the way you sounded. It is still pretty good, I must admit. That crackpot cook we usually have is getting mighty lazy.” Caston said.

“Good. Eat up. I’ll take this out to the center of camp.” Jonas stood, and took the cauldron in both hands. He went outside, followed by the boys. He made his way to the center of camp, where the large firepit was. He set the cauldron down, and spoke loudly.

“My name is Saul, and I am your guest chef. I work for the butcher; he sends his regards in the form of a free rabbit stew for everyone. Please,” Jonas motioned to the pot. Praise the Goddess that most of them were ravenously hungry. A few looked at him with skepticism, but as is the way with most things, once they saw others eating they followed suit.

A few people were scattered around in tents and had come outside. Once they found that it was supper time, they also came and ate. Jonas felt a small pang of guilt, but then remembered his saying.

He was alarmed, though. This Lord William didn’t seem to be around. He was sure that he would know him when he saw him. Those in charge usually had overly elaborate tastes. Jonas glanced around. He was looking for a tent, one that would likely look different than the others that were scattered around. He spotted a large tent near the edge of the camp, somewhat removed from the rest. It was very near the treeline, perhaps partially under the canopy of the forest. This tent was made of some sort of shimmering gold material rather than canvas or other cloth.

Oh, the elaborate décor of the wealthy and powerful. It was so unnecessary. Jonas wondered if the leaders and heroes of the world thought about their actions. Did they not realize that if they looked the same as their comrades, or the same as a normal person, they would be much less likely to be targeted? The sheer ego of those in power usually outweighed most of their good sense.

At any rate, Jonas resolved that he ought to hand-deliver some stew to this Lord William fellow. Jonas located an empty bowl, and he ladled some stew into it. He then began a stroll towards the golden tent.

There had been two guards stationed outside the tent, but they had foolishly left their post to go and eat. Jonas stepped inside. The man referred to as Lord William seemed to be having a late-afternoon nap. He was curled up on a sleeping roll, snoring somewhat loudly. Jonas cleared his throat and spoke.

“My Lord…” Upon hearing a voice, the man sat bolt upright in his bed. He had a long face, and blue eyes. He had dark hair that was messy and seemed to be dirty. Possibly because of the nap, but more likely because he was a slob. Surely, this wasn’t the revered leader all of these people were following? He looked as if he couldn’t convince a turtle that fresh greens were tasty, let alone convince a group of people that the Goddess doesn’t exist. Or that if she does, she’s lying to us all.
“What the hell…?” He said, rubbing his eyes. Once they focused, and he saw Jonas, his eyes widened. “YOU! You’re the one who as in the square with that monk!” He quickly began to get up, perhaps to alarm the guards, perhaps to arm himself. Jonas didn’t have time to pull any weapons. He shouldn’t have assumed that things would go so smoothly. Instead, as soon as he stood up, Jonas punched him square in the nose. He felt a crunch, and William reeled from the blow and grabbed his nose. Jonas pulled his sword, and tried to grab William by the belt and drag him back, as he was crawling away. He was quick, however. He scurried underneath the wall of the tent. Once outside, he began to yell.

“PEOPLE! There is a spy among us!!!” William ran around to the common area, and saw a nasty sight.

About a dozen people were already dead. Ten more were vomiting, on their way to meet Krovash. A few were having convulsions. It was a potent poison, indeed.

Jonas leapt out of the tent, and charged William. The revered lord immediately turned tail and ran straight into the forest.

Jonas wasn’t sure where Tobias was, but he reckoned that he wasn’t near enough to William to stop him from escaping.
He began to go after him, when he was struck in the back of the skull. He was knocked unconscious.

When Jonas came to, he was tied to the cook’s stool, ironically enough. There were five people standing in front of him. Albas and Caston, of course, along with the cook and what seemed to be two guards. They must have simply not been hungry. One of the guards slapped Jonas.

“What have you DONE?” Jonas’ mind raced. He was in big trouble. He wondered where Tobias was, his timing was terrible. Jonas started to consider yelling for him, when the other guard bellowed:

“You poisoned the lot of us? What have you to say for yourself? Are you some kind of Goddess loving crusader?” He demanded.

“Are you some kind of Goddess hating crusader?” Jonas asked in return, lifting his head. The guard drew his sword, and Jonas filled his lungs with air and hollered.

“TOBIAS!!!!!” The guard bashed him on the top of his head with the pommel of his sword.

“What the hell are you yelling for?” He asked. “I’m going to flay your skin before I kill you, you disgusting man. Poison, of all things. Who put you up to this, anyway?” Jonas began to struggle against his restraints, and the cook and the other guard held him down. Guard number one threatened him with the tip of his sword.

Before he could do any harm, Jonas heard a CRASH and Tobias leapt through the tent flap, mace in full swing. He brought it crashing down on the head of the cook. He had a habit of simply using his brute strength and morning star to bash people’s heads in.

The cook crumpled to the ground, instantly dead. The guards came upon Tobias, as the boys stared on in terror. Tobias jabbed one in the stomach, ducking the swing of the other at the same time. Tobias carried the swinging guard over his shoulders and out of the tent. Tobias quickly stabbed the wounded guard in the neck, killing him. He then stepped outside after the other fallen guard. Jonas heard a sound; it was something like “oof”, as if the air had been driven from someone. Jonas yelled at the boys.

“There’s a reason you two are still alive. Now help me out of these restraints!!” They hesitated, and Jonas yelled “NOW!!!” Albas obliged, while Caston look on sourly. Jonas immediately pulled two knives and stepped out of the tent.

The guard had taken Tobias by surprise somehow, and had thrown him in the large fire pit. Tobias was struggling backward, having lost track of his mace. The guard was advancing upon him. Jonas quickly threw a knife, it found its mark. Landing smack center of the guard’s back, and thus severing his spine, the knife immediately paralyzed him. He fell over, helpless.
Jonas advance to the firepit where Tobias lay.

“By the stars, Jonas. That fool feigned he was unconscious, and then took me by surprise as I went to finish him. The tackled me into the firepit. I’m burned badly on my back…” Jonas helped him to his feet, and then peered into the woods.

“William got away.” He said. Tobias dusted himself off. The two boys made their way over to Jonas. Caston looked furious, Albas kept his usual reserve.

“YOU!!! What were you doing? Why? Why did you kill everyone???” Caston demanded.

“Stow it, Caston. The last thing I need is a child lecturing me about morals.” Jonas said. He turned back to Tobias. “Turn around.” He ordered. Tobias obliged. Jonas brushed the dirt and soot off his back, and revealed badly charred skin. “Alright,” Jonas said, “We need to count these bodies, and then get you to the herbalist.” He quickly surveyed the open area. He counted twenty-four bodies, including the corpses in the cooking tent courtesy of Tobias.

“You two, check those tents on the far side for bodies. I’ll check these ones.” Albas began to move, but Caston remained where he was while looking at him defiantly. "How dare y-" Jonas decided he had had enough. He approached Caston, and grabbed him by the shirt.

“Shut your damn mouth, and cut the nonsense. You can keep being angry and go find William in the god damned woods. What a great and glorious leader he is. Or, you can help me count these bodies and maybe make a coin or two. Thank me that you’re alive, and quit complaining.” He let him go. Caston looked bewildered. He stood, head hanging for a moment, and then went after Albas.

Jonas went to check the tents closest to him. Sure enough, some followers had taken their food in their tents and had died there. There were four tents. Two were empty; there was one dead man in one; and two in another.
Jonas returned to the center of camp. Tobias had taken a seat on the ground. He seemed to be praying. Jonas could barely make out what he was saying.

“…Vera, please forgive me, for I have committed many atrocities this day. I have killed men in your name, there was no avoiding it. Hear my prayers, dear Goddess. I beseech you, let me remain pure and know your glory one day. Deliver me from evil. Watch over my friends and over all mankind. Protect those who died this day, though they are wicked men. Forgive them completely…”

Jonas couldn’t bear to listen any longer. Tobias had a certain innocence, a certain conviction when he prayed. It was intoxicating. Jonas was so beside himself, he nearly joined his friend in prayer. Soon, Tobias’ head rose. He had a serene look on his face and a faraway look in his eyes.

The boys returned to the center soon.

“Five bodies over there.” Caston said.

“Thirty-two total,” Jonas mused. The King had promised one thousand pieces for William, and one hundred pieces per follower. Jonas wasn’t sure how he would break the news to the king that William had escaped, or whether or not he would still be paid. These were extenuating circumstances, after all.

“Let’s go.” Jonas said. He still wasn’t sure why he had let the boys live. Perhaps it was because they were so lost in life. They didn’t deserve to be where they had been, and they hadn’t deserved the fate Jonas was dishing out. He expected them to follow him. He would pay each of them a small sum, because he might have died had they not freed him. Tobias stood, and they set out for Windrow. As they were walking away, Caston spoke.

“What about the bodies?” He asked quietly.

“We haven’t the time.” Jonas answered. “They’ll return to the ground one way or another.”

Terrible advice. Leave as much out of the scenery as possible. Make something terrible happen to the character when you can't think of anything else, and then watch them claw their sorry out of it. Make them suffer for hurting your head. Not that I've been able to stay dedicated to anything I write either...

The sun had finally passed under the wisp of cloud in the sky that momentarily shielded both combatant's weary eyes. Kia's, violet and blazing in adrenaline, stayed locked with the icy blue of Jonas. It had been five and thirty minutes of pure, unrelenting animosity let out in the form of an epic battle upon the plain. Daisies were permanently stained red with blood, grass would soon wither with the sweat shed from both bodies, and the surrounding trees knew no sound as the fauna made themselves scarce in fear of the sounds of battle. Birds flew at the cries, deer cringed at the clash of metal, and all below the ground stayed out of the light at the stomping above them, the dance macabre above them lasting a time enough to try any mortal's patience.

"Why!?" The first tangible word shouted from Jonas, laden with exhaustion as he fought for breath to shout. "Why did you betray us? After... After all we did, and all you did with us!" He brandished his blade, notched from repeated clashes with Kia's own. "You saved our lives, and we... we fought side by side! Why would you betray that!?"

Still the sun sank as he spoke, touching the tips of the trees that stretched out in longing for its warmth. Between the leaves and branches, rays of light could be seen passing between the combatants in this momentary rest. Kia lifted her blade, half shining brilliantly in the reflection of the sun's last light. "You were corrupted." Through the battle's adrenaline rushes and the emotion she poured out into each swing of her blade, she felt herself inching closer to being able to speak her heart fully. "We did fight together. We were allies." Even though they were... "You allowed yourself to be blinded along with them for power." They couldn't see it, no matter what Kia said, that the enemy was spinning intricate webs of deceit through the ranks of the party. Their original purpose... "OUR original purpose was lost!"
Emotion finally came out in the form of a voice. "We set out to save our land, and ended up joining the ranks of those who sought to destroy it! No friends would do that!"

Kia tilted her arm back and started to dash towards Jonas. In the place of where she stood, one single tear hung in the air. Pure and clear, it reflected in the light, a prism of beauty personifying all of Kia's pent up emotion as she brought her blade towards Jonas with such force that his parry resulted in being knocked back. Clumsily he tried to turn and swing, but his foot caught the ground at an odd angle, leaving him bent over and his back exposed to Kia.

Whether it was out of mercy, fondness, or regret, her blade did not find his back. Rather, she kicked the back of Jonas' leg, the one supporting all his weight, and caught his sword's handle as he buckled, tumbling straight down. The falling tear landed upon the earth as Jonas' knees fell, his arms limp at his sides in recognition of defeat as his entire adventure flashed before his eyes.

Kia was panting, fighting for breath against all previous records of being capable of such combat without trouble. Jonas, however, was still. He was not struggling to recover, nor showing signs of fatigue. As the last rays of the sun passed over his face, his mouth twitched and he whispered to nothing, "What have I done...?"

Hahahahahahahahahaha! I started writing a novel this month without even knowing about this. That, for me, is very funny.


Oh, and by the way, if you can't tell from this post, I'm back.


I would post mine, but there is a very large amount of swearing in it. If you want me to, I'll post it without the swearing

The sun had hid behind the hills for the day. The sky was now getting to be a dark shade of blue. Jonas stopped his horse and addressed everyone.

“It looks like it’s about time to stop and make camp for the night.” He said. “It would be best to find a spot to camp behind the hills, you never know who or what might be along the road.” He opened up his knapsack and dug out his fabled cloak, the black one that made him nearly invisible. “I’ll go on ahead a short way and find a spot for us. Wait for me here. If anything goes wrong, I’ll yell for you.” Tobias managed a half smile, no doubt remembering the events in the cultist camp outside Windrow a few days earlier. Jonas shrugged into his cloak and was on his way.

He headed further south a short distance, he was no doubt in search of something. He doubted that any of the others had seen it. A short while ago, when the sun was half set, they group had been on a small rise so that they could see over the shorter hills. Whilst riding through the area, Jonas noticed that there was a person chopping a tree very awkwardly nearby. He was working a distance to the south, and to the east of the road. Jonas had no idea who he was or what he was doing, but he intended to find out. They were far too close to Rurm for Jonas’ liking; the last thing the group needed was to be robbed by highwaymen.

Jonas crept along for a time, and then he turned eastward and began to climb over a hill. Once he was at the top of the hill, he surveyed his surroundings. A short distance to the south and east there seemed to be a camp of some kind. There were two very crude tents set up, and a small fire going between the two. There were three men sitting around it. They had stamped the grass flat around the camp. Once again, it was time for some espionage.

Jonas snuck down the slope of the hill and made his way towards the camp. It wasn’t too far; he probably could have thrown a rock from atop the hill and hit one of the men lounging in the grass. Once he was near, Jonas stooped to a crouch. Hidden by the tall grass, Jonas got nearly close enough to breathe on the men. He eavesdropped on their conversation to see if he could gather any information.

“Lord, how long has Calaster been gone? We sent the fool to Rodell to make sure that assassin isn’t on Lord William’s trail; he’s probably drinking in the tavern. The fool! He’s been gone far too long.” One man said. When Jonas saw the man earlier he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He wagered the man wasn’t an ordinary person from the area, because any child who’s seen seven summers can properly chop wood. Jonas gathered that William had sent the four men, and the three had sent the one to the town to gather information. They had most likely expected him to be discreet, as well, but to no avail.

“We should have gone with him, for star’s sake. We could have kept him in line, and been back to Rurm by now. Whose idea was it to send that drunkard into Rodell anyway?” Another said.

“I’m not entirely sure. I’d rather lay about here than go and deal with those crazy villagers from Rodell. Them and their public punishments. I wouldn’t last a day over there.” The first said again.

“Well he’d better return soon, because Lord William isn’t going to be happy to remain without news for very long, that’s certain. And if he isn’t happy, then Sade isn’t happy. And if Sade isn’t happy, the city will be ruined. Who the hell knows what he might do if we disobey him.” The third brigand said.

“Well remember, he’s uniting the gangs and rebuilding Rurm. Everyone in the city will be rich, at the expense of people we don’t give half a damn about.” Guy number one said.

“I’m not so keen on his plans. He’s using bad methods to achieve his will, I don’t think I like it.” Said guy number two.

“Look around the city. I don’t think there is any civility left, hell, there hasn’t been any to begin with since the Goddess and the Golden age of Men.” Number three said.
“Well, we have a choice. We could…”

Jonas’ mind was now racing, he had heard enough from the three. Could it be that the Sade they spoke of was the same one who visited Jonas in his dreams? There’s absolutely no way that could be possible. It was much too coincidental. Wasn’t it?
What in the world was going on in Rurm? The men had mentioned a uniting of the gangs? William was apparently there, as was Sade. Jonas wasn’t sure what it all meant. He began to think again about his whole mission. Rurm was dangerous enough; and from what Jonas could now gather, it was ten times more dangerous. The city was apparently under the control of the two most insane men he had ever known of. What was worse, from the sounds of it, the many gangs and factions of thugs had come together for a common goal. It sounded as if their goal was conquest, to boot. Or something of the sort, they planned on taking advantage of someone.

He certainly didn’t want to lead his friends to their deaths. If there was an army of thugs waiting for them in Rurm, that’s essentially what Jonas was doing. Though the mission was still about the money, something had to be done if they were planning on waging war. Jonas doubted that they had an army to take on the likes of the forces of Windrow, but he knew Sade was a sorcerer and he had no idea what powers he had, nor did he know of any other alliances that might be in place. He had apparently taken over Rurm to some degree; he must be persuasive to some degree. Then again, that was all the more reason for Jonas to put a stop to it sooner. Stamp out the small fire before it burns the entire forest, as it were.

At any rate, Jonas contemplated what he ought to do with these three hooligans. He thought about leaving them live, then a pang of hatred hit him. Whether entirely under their own will or not, these men were working for Sade as well as for William. They were probably gang members of one kind or another. Jonas may as well exact a little revenge on Sade through them. He certainly wouldn’t lose any sleep over their slaughter. Once he had decided he was going to kill them, he considered which ways would be the most satisfying. This wasn’t part of the job, this was personal. He thought about walking straight into their camp, but there was no doubt that they had probably been given a description of him. If they realized who he was, he would be attacked on sight. Of course, Jonas could most likely win that battle, but he wanted to do things on his terms. He decided that he would toy with them a bit. He turned his attention back to the men. They were talking about trivial things at this point; apparently conversing about things that were serious must have depressed them.

“Lord, I can’t wait to get back to Rurm. I’m going straight to the cathouse and I’m going to buy myself ten women.”

“Good lord! The stars know that you can’t even satisfy one, let alone ten.” They burst out in laughter. The offended man spoke again.

“Indeed? Tell it to your sister, or your mother. I bedded them at the same time!” Another round of laughter. The second man leapt up and charged the first in fun.

“Yes, and I’ll choke you until your filthy eyes pop out and your lying tongue lolls out to the side, you !” He hollered, leaping onto the first man. They were struggling; both had the other by the shirt. The second was trying to wrestle the other man to the ground; who was sitting on the ground near the fire cross-legged. He was pushing against his companion, though, and would not go down. Jonas took his opportunity.

He took a throwing knife from his right sleeve. While they were wrestling, Jonas hurled it at the back of the head of the first man. He tumbled backwards, dead. For a moment, the other man had no idea and went on trying to wrestle him. He soon realized that the man had gone limp. He had a look of confusion on his face while he tried to shake him awake.

“Japsal? Are you alright? Come on then, stop joking!” He said desperately, gently shaking his friend. “What’s wrong? Wake up, I said!” He said, shaking his friend more furiously this time. He then saw some blood on the ground. He dropped the man and stood, backing away in horror. The third man was already standing.

“What happened?” He said, approaching the second man.

“It’s Japsal. I think he’s hurt.” He said. The third man approached the body and examined it for a moment. He then looked at the head, and of course, realized that there was a knife protruding out of his skull.

“GOOD LORD! Did you stab him???” He asked incredulously. The second man’s eyes were agape.

“What in the world? Of course I didn’t!”

“Well someone did!” He said, confronting the man. He shook his head.

“We were kidding around; you ought to know that I wouldn’t kill my own friend over a few jokes. There must be something going on here.”

“There’s something going on indeed.” The third man said with a skeptical look; still regarding the second man with much suspicion, also drawing his sword. “How in the world do you explain Japsal falling down dead with a knife in the back of his skull? We would have seen anyone approaching camp, there’s no way they could have snuck up and stabbed him, and especially with you jostling him like you were.”

At this point, Jonas had backed away from the camp a short distance. He formulated a disturbing plan. He felt around on the ground for a good sized rock. When he found one, he tossed it about thirty feet away from the camp, which was probably ten feet from him. As soon as the rock hit the grass and made a rustling noise, both men turned in that direction. The third man’s weapon was out, at this point, the second man saw fit to draw his as well.

“Did you hear that?” The second man said.

“Of course I did! Let’s go check it out.” The third responded. He led the way, followed by the nervous and reluctant man. It was almost too perfect.

They wandered over to the area where the rock had landed. They stood there for a time, looking around. Jonas waited as well as moved in an attempt to find his spot. After a few moments, it presented itself. The third man’s back was to Jonas as well as to the second man. Jonas pulled another knife, and threw it at the left shoulder of the third man. He threw it somewhat lightly, so as not to mortally injure the man. As soon as it hit him, the second man noticed which direction it had come from and began to run towards Jonas. But Jonas was already on the move away from where he had been.

“You little !” The third man shouted. “You tried to kill me as well!” The second man turned around, trying to reason with the third.

“No, I saw-“ reasoning was the wrong thing to do in this particular situation. The third man swung his sword upon the second. The second was able to get his own weapon up fast enough to deflect the bow, however. From there, it was a simple swordfight to the death. The third man was older and rougher looking than the second. The second was only a boy still; he probably hadn’t seen any battle at all. Though Jonas doubted the older man was any sort of soldier either; he was most likely a bully from Rurm with no more skill than that of a sixteen year old fresh recruit. He was right; both of their swordplay forms were pitiful. Jonas nearly wanted to stand up then and there and strike both of them down. Steel rang on steel as the two shoddy sword fighters clumsily went at it. After a few moments, the older man was able to cast the younger man’s sword from his hand; most likely due to a poor grip. From there, he stabbed the young man in the stomach, completely positive that it was he that had stabbed him in the back. Jonas heard the boy’s last breath as he tried to tell the older man that he was innocent.

“It wasn’t me, you fool…ugh. Those knives are throwing knives,” he managed to say. “Lord, did you have to stab me in the stomach?” He said. He was no doubt bleeding very badly, and would die soon if he wasn’t attended to. The older man seemed to realize his mistake. He dropped his sword.

“I’m sorry, come, we need to get you to a healer quickly.” He said, stooping to pick the boy up.

Jonas stood up in the tall grass he had been hiding in for so long and shrugged out of his cloak. The third man gaped at him in disbelief. Jonas managed a smirk. He wondered for a split second whether the man would try and rush him, or if he would turn tail and run. He got his answer soon enough, as the man raised his sword and rushed Jonas in a blind rage. Apparently, he was angry that Jonas had killed his friends and had turned him against the living one. He somewhat cruelly dropped his friend back to the ground as he came at Jonas.

Of course, Jonas had been studying the man’s sword style, and it was nothing of concern. He was already off balance as he ran at Jonas. The man was nearly upon him, Jonas saw his eyes and they were full of vengeance, as well as a false sense of victory. As the man went to plant his feet to bring his sword down on Jonas, Jonas did a simply sidestep and the man missed completely. He overextended his arms, and Jonas then tripped him and he fell flat on his bottom.

“Why-“ He began to say, as Jonas unsheathed his sword and struck him down in one quick, simple motion.

Jonas then approached the second man. He didn’t see or hear him coming. Jonas decided to put him out of his misery; of course he would die sooner or later due to the nasty stomach wound he suffered. Jonas snuck up behind him, and grasped his chin and the back of his skull. With a quick twisting motion, Jonas broke the second man’s neck without any trouble.

Having dealt with all of the troublemakers, Jonas put his cloak back on and headed for the road. Once he found it, he began to make his way back to the group. It wasn’t far from where he had been. A short way form where he stood he saw a flame, possibly that of a torch. Once he got closer, he realized it was Tobias who held the torch.