The Story of a Traveling Swordsman (3rd Revision)

By: Sir Pargal

Part One - This land called Elhorn

Dawn had broken over the mountains in a peaceful valley just as a young soldier was passing down the trail. He was quite fatigued from his long hike down the rocky mountain trail and hoped to come across a town very soon. The soldier was dressed in somewhat battered armor that looked as though it had seen a hundred battles, and a green sash was tied around his arm being used as a bandage from a recently received injury. The sun was shining off of his blonde hair so brightly it gave it an almost lime colored tint. He breathed a sigh after reading a sign close by which said: "Town of Wezil – East."

"Finally..." He said to himself, "A bed to sleep in. It's been so long."

He began to have flashbacks of his past in the eastern lands of Haruk which he often tried to forget of the deception he faced and the destruction he single handedly caused.

"That's all in the past, I must try to forget." He said to himself walking down the trail pointed out to him.

About 20 minutes later he came across a quiet cozy looking town that had just finished preparing for a new day. The young soldier however was not. He limped into the town as quickly as he could in search of a good inn. He checked many places until he came across one particular Inn which read: "The Valley Cottage."

"This place will do." He said to himself walking in.

While he expected a quiet village inn he instead soon found himself in a noisy tavern filled with the conversation of people completely rejuvenated by a good nights rest. The conversation stopped and all eyes focused on him as he slowly limped up to the innkeeper's desk.

"I'd like a room please." He said quietly.

"You sure look like you could use one." She said looking at him, "It'll be about 10 more minutes, wait here by the bar 'till its ready."

The man sat at the bar and conversation began once again in the busy tavern. Two men approached the soldier dressed as Devotindos merchants.

"Seen many battles lately kid?" One of them asked.

The soldier said nothing.

"What? You think you're too good to talk to a lowly merchant like me? You some kinda noble kid?"

Once again, no answer.

"I get it; you're one of those snotty noble kids from the battle academy in Elhorn aren't ya? Well, looks like somebody needs to teach you a lesso-"

"Enough!!" the Innkeeper said coming back down the stairs, "I'm not going to tolerate any trouble here, I have six soldiers from Elhorn upstairs right now who I promised peace and quiet, and I don't think you want to disappoint them."

"You're lucky this time kid!" The other merchant snarled as they both stormed out.

The Innkeeper was quick to apologize

"I'm sorry sir, your rooms ready now" She said, "That will be 250 Zebulians...if you don't mind."

"No..." The soldier said setting a solid gold coin on the desk.

The Innkeeper looked shocked.

"My goodness, this coin could get you every room in the tavern! Where did you get this kind of money young man? Well, no matter, here is your key please enjoy your stay."

The Soldier grabbed his key and slowly began walking up the stairs. He then looked out the window and saw a young girl having an argument with the same two merchants he had just been talking to. He sensed trouble and dashed outside as quickly as his injured leg would let him.

When he turned the corner one of the two merchants had grabbed the girl by the arms and she began struggling to get free.

"Now keep quiet miss and we won't hurt ya." He said.

"Let the girl go." The soldier demanded standing firmly with his hand on his sword at his waist.

Everyone turned to look at him and the merchant released his grip on the girl. She quickly ran behind the Inn's well as the two merchants faced the mysterious young man.

"All right kid! Ya had yer chance! This time I'm gonna mess you up real good!" The angered merchant said pulling out a sharp dagger.

He lunged forward and was right at striking distance when he suddenly lost his balance and stumbled down. The confused merchant began getting back up when he noticed his dagger was nowhere to be seen. He looked back at his comrade who had a surprised look on his face. He then looked back at the strange young soldier and was shocked at what he saw.

There he was holding the very dagger that was endangering his life just seconds ago. He examined it for a second, and then said:

"...This dagger is poorly made...I've seen better butter knives. That's the problem with your country; always putting quantity over quality."

The observing merchant off to the side became increasingly angered and charged at the soldier, who did not make a single movement. Thrusting forward the merchant pulled a hidden dagger from his cloak and plunged at the calm man. The warrior quickly dodged and made a clean slash across the merchant's chest. The girl watching couldn't believe what she saw. The merchant got back up and started laughing.

"Not a scratch!" He said.

Just as he finished his sentence the seams on his clothing had ripped apart, leaving him draped in nothing more than his shirt collar and pants. The merchant panicked rushing to his comrade for assistance. They were obviously outnumbered in skill and could do nothing more but stare back at the wounded soldier who managed to fight off both of the two healthy men.

"Just leave him, he's not worth it!" One of the merchants said.

"Right...there's no way he could possibly know..." The other said.

Together they walked off into the forest, leaving the soldier and the girl behind. For a while the girl remained behind the well, and they exchanged their stares. Then she noticed that the bandage on his arm began to bleed.

"You're hurt!" She said running over to him examining the wound.

"It's just a scratch...please leave me be" he replied.

"Nonsense, that has to be cleaned properly. Please come back to my cottage it's not far." She said grabbing him by his good arm.

The soldier sighed and allowed her to take him to her home. They walked down a path which lead to a narrow street. The young man looked around and noticed many troops from the Devotindos army were scattered throughout the city.

"Why are there so many Devotindos soldiers here?" He asked.

"The town's elder had agreed to a pact with the Devotindos recently. They have agreed to allow some of the soldiers to set up a temporary camp in this village in exchange for some food supplies. Due to the recent drought it was an offer we couldn't refuse." She replied.

The young man hated the Devotindos Empire and everything it stood for. He especially hated to see a mainly-Opossum community be forced to support an evil power like the Devotindos Imperial army. After all of the bloodshed that had been exchanged between the two species for so many years it was still common to see towns in Zebulos negotiate with the Devotindos over scarce Supplies, even if it meant trouble for the rest of the country.

"How much farther must we go?" The young man asked becoming increasingly irritated at the unpleasant scenery in the streets.

"Not much farther" She said turning the corner, revealing a cozy-looking cottage on a hilltop.

She helped the man up the stairs to the cottage and swung the door open. It was a small, yet warm place. Upon entering she took him over to a chair in a small yet pleasant room.

"Please sit down while I fetch some ointment." She said.

He did as told and she walked out of the room.

"I can't spend much time here" He thought to himself, "I must return home quickly."

It wasn't long before she returned with a bowl of clean water, a cloth rag, and some healing ointment.

"I'll have to remove that bandage." She said.

"I'd prefer it if you did not."

"That looks bad; you should let me clean it to keep it from becoming infected."

He allowed her to remove the sash from his arm. She carefully unwrapped the bandage and gasped.

"What a nasty gash! What happened to you?"

The young man was hesitant to answer, but then replied, "I was attacked...by a monster on the mountain trail."

"Mountain trail? You came from the east?" She asked wiping the wound carefully with clean water.

"I lived in the Kingdom of Haruk for a while where I trained to become a knight."

"Really...well I'd have to say your training really pulled off sir knight...oh yes! Sorry! I never got around to thanking you for saving me. My name is Sheryl Beckinson. May I ask yours?" She asked.

"...Mifune." The young soldier replied.

"Pleased to meet you Mifune...you're not by any chance related to the Sanjulo family are you?"

"...I'm a traveling swordsman." Mifune replied.

"I see...well I'm sorry to have to break this to you but don't expect to be able to travel very freely through this region. A war is about to break out between the Kingdom of Zebulos and the Devotindos Empire. If you're not careful you'll be getting more bad wounds like this one." She said pointing to his arm.

"...I understand...thank you for your assistance miss Beckinson." He said moving his re-bandaged arm. He got up from the chair and opened the door.

"Sir Mifune...I am very grateful to you. If there's anything you need, please come back here and I'd be glad to help you out." She said.

He looked back at her for a moment and then left. On the way back to the Inn he began thinking about his past. He was indeed Mifune Sanjulo. The reason Sheryl had asked him was that many years ago the head of the Sanjulo family had a son who had disappeared from Elhorn many years ago and no one ever found out what happened to him. He began having flashbacks of his 14th birthday when he entered a tournament of swordsmanship at Zebulos castle and had lost to the cocky prince Devotindos. He soon fled to the eastern lands leaving all he knew behind to begin a heavy commitment to the sword in the Kingdom of Haruk deep in the mountains.

Remembering begging to be accepted on the steps of the Kingdom's training grounds. How once he eventually got the privilege of being trained by the countries greatest swordsman, and had to endure the countless painful exercises and tasks he was made to perform. Then once he had accomplished the rank of knight he was sentenced to death by an envious princess whom he would not pledge himself to. He then remembered clearly how he attained the gash in his arm. Running from the very same soldiers he had trained with for 7 years, only to be betrayed because of a princess' order.

Mifune could clearly remember the screams of his friends as he was forced to slay them for his own survival and how they did not hesitate to wield their blades with the intent to kill. Remembering the sword that swiped clean across his arm his eyes widened and he stopped for a moment in the streets breathing heavily, and then he swallowed hard.

"It's all in the past" he said to himself, "Now I can return home, even if it's not the way I wanted to return, the future still looks bright...finally."

He walked into the inn, now quieted after everyone had left to go to their place of work. The Innkeeper stopped him to give him his change.

"Sorry it took so long. Kind of hard to find exact change for a gold piece like that." She said to him.

He walked up the stairs and went into his room. He sat on his bed thinking mostly about his father and the day they were separated. He was not disappointed, but instead smiled back at Mifune. Regardless Mifune was not pleased, and insisted on leaving for Haruk. When his father refused he snuck out of his home that night and began his journey. He thought about how great it would be to finally be able to stay in a place he could call home once again, and see some of his old friends he had not seen in 7 years. After a short while he drifted asleep, which he was more than happy to get.