Are you willing to fight for it?
Fight for what?
The time is nearly upon us. All those who fight shall die.
There's a choice?
We shall rule. I shall rule. All shall bow before me in fear.
Who will rule?
My servants are working as we speak. Soon, I shall bring you to your knees.
I don't know what you're talking about.
All Heaven shall perish…
"Hey." A fighter shook the curled up body covered in a blanket. It groaned and curled tighter. Three of the occupants of the shaking wagon laughed.
"How can he sleep through this?"
"It's a kid thing. Kids can sleep through anything."
"I wish I could be young again." Dark eyes in dark skin peered out the front of the wagon at the ever-nearing log walls. "Then maybe I'd be heading somewhere other than this hell of a place."
"We all came of our free will, Akki. You must understand that the people need us."
"I understand that."
"Are we almost there?" asked a gruff looking man with large muscles. "I don't know how much longer I can sit here."
"We'll be at the encampment soon enough," called the wagon driver. "Wake up that kid."
"I wonder if I can." The fighter took hold of the hunched shoulder and shook it again. "C'mon, kid. Wake up."
A mumbling sound came from under the blanket, and a head with messy, gold-blonde hair appeared. Two drowsy eyes opened, colored gold with silver spines coming from the black pupils.
"nnn…"
"Wake up. We're almost at the encampment." The body hesitated for a moment, then shifted and started to sit up. Two arms pushed the body up to a sitting position.
"Almost there?" he mumbled sleepily.
"Almost." The woman squinted at the walls not very far ahead.
"Actually, we could walk there, if we wanted to."
"Just stay in," the driver said. "I'll let you off in there."
The wagon arrived in the camp a few minutes later, slightly delayed by the arrival of some undead. The rogues in the camp took the undead out easily. Kashya, the rogues, and the heroes who had been in the Rogue's Encampment for some time all watched warily as the new heroes came out of the wagon back.
First, there was a sorceress; dark skinned, dark eyed, and dark haired. She wore a light blue top and skirt, and held a wooden staff with an icy blue stone in it. She gave them all a glare as she came out and smoothed her hair.
The second was a hugely muscled barbarian. He carried with him a huge axe and was heavily painted on his body. Short pants and no shirt. He started off towards the blacksmith, Charsi, without any words. His axe had been damaged on the way here.
The third was a fighter. Dark hair, light skin. He had an air of arrogance and authority around him. His sword was a short sword, hanging next to his side. Even his tunic and leggings seemed perfectly made. He was probably high born.
It seemed that nobody else was coming, so the small crowd started to dissipate. When the fighter looked back in and said, "Are you coming?", a fourth and last person came out of the back.
He was only a child.
15, 16 at the most; he had gold-blonde hair and gold eyes with silver spikes around the pupil. He had on a simple shirt and belt, leather leggings and boots. Surprisingly he wore no armor and carried an empty backpack; even more surprising was the sword he carried. It was rather long for a fighter of his stature. He ran a bare hand through his ruffled hair and looked up to the sky. The sky had clouded over, but no rain was falling.
A few whispers passed through the camp as the wagon left.
"So these are the new recruitments?"