Varick opened his eyes and blinked, turning his head away from the powerful light assailing his eyes. After a moment, Varick realized the source of his bright tormentor; it was the sun that now stood blazing cheerily above him, warming his skin and stirring him to consciousness. With a cursory glance, done more out of reflex rather than conscious thought, Varick observed his surroundings with the keenness of a butter knife, still sharp if only barely. His eyes drank in his surroundings, a cobblestone street, several buildings, a mass of people going about their daily business, every detail his eyes could pick out, yet his mind took no note. However, as his eyes fell on a certain building, or, rather, on its sign, memories of the night previous washed over him and Varick's butter knife mind suddenly became as sharp as a saber, though a little bent. Well, if I could take a guess, Varick thought while slowly rising from his prone position, doing his best to ignore the many snide remarks and rude stares he now realized he was receiving from passerbys, the others not only left me behind, but also decided to leave me outside… again.
Kaethe wandered aimlessly along the numerous streets of the city while whistling the tune to a song from his home province, Hochland. Closing his eyes he struggled to remember the events of the previous and night and, with a slight chuckle, whether Koen had left Varick again. Finishing the last note of the song with a more than a little relish, Kaethe sighed and opened his eyes. With a start, he realized he was about to experience the unpleasant event of running into a stranger, and a muscular, fierce looking one at that. Kaethe, though, was adept at cheating fate and all its malicious schemings. With a deft twist, Kaethe avoided collision with the man who had just now realized how close the two had come to an awkwardly intimate encounter. Looking down, Kaethe muttered a hurried apology to the man before swiftly continuing on, hoping confrontation could be avoided. Kaethe stopped, along with his heart, when the man called after him.
"Wait," Gunther basically commanded, "Kaethe, it's me, Gunther."
"What a coincidence," Kaethe responded casually though his heart was still racing, "what brings you to this street?"
The two were now walking the streets again, with no real goal or destination set.
"Trying to clear my mind of last night," Gunther replied.
"Me too, yet another coincidence of life."
"Just like our meeting those years ago," Gunther mumbled lightly, addressing himself just as much as he was Kaethe.
"You mean the time with the merchant, Alaric Kantor?"
"Yeah, that high-and-mighty smug bastard."
"You use that term for just about everybody."
"I think it fits pretty well with him."
"Probably, do you remember that day? I do, but not everything."
"Yeah, only bits and pieces like you, though. Let's try and recall the day that led to us now," Gunther replied sitting down.
"Sure, why not. I've nothing better to do," Kaethe started as they slowly tried to recall the event that brought them together.
A lone carriage led by two horses was casually making its way through a forest, surrounded by a group of eight guards. The procession moved along an old dirt road leisurely, a light cloud of dust marking the group's progression. Kaethe Brandt whistled a light song that he was taught when he was a boy in Hochland. He had accepted the job to ensure the safety of the merchant Alaric Kantor and while on the journey he had gotten to know several of the guards very well. In particular, Varick Kunze, and Gunther Eisenfaust struck him as an interesting character as well.
Kaethe lazily rolled his head from side to side examining the surroundings. The trees rose up thickly on both sides, their thick branches blocking most of the sun's light creating a strange twilight within the forest. A flicker of movement caught his eye; perhaps it was just his imagination. A cry of warning from one of his fellow guards followed by a sickening thud confirmed his suspicions.
One of the guards cried out in pain, an arrow protruding from his chest. He quickly hit the ground, kicking up clouds of dirt. Alarmed, the remaining seven guards drew their weapons as two more arrows were loosed, taking a guard in the throat and head. Amidst the ensuing chaos, the carriage slewed to a halt, unable to progress.
While the guards were still milling about in confusion, attempting to orient themselves against this sudden attack, their enemy made itself known. Bursting from the surrounding foliage with terrible swiftness, a nightmarish creature charged the procession. It was a skaven.
The creature sped towards the carriage cutting down a guard with the draw of its sword. One of the guards stabbed the skaven with his spear, only to have it deflected, mere moments before a second blade cleaved off his head. An arrow caught the skaven assassin in the leg, and the creature turned to face its new opponent, unfazed by the deep wound in its limb. Kaethe hastily attempted to ready another arrow. The distance between the two closed in an instant, and the creature lashed out with its twin blades. Kaethe knew he faced certain death, but refused to accept it. With a cry of defiance, he flung himself backwards, hoping to avoid the graceful stroke of his attacker. He was not fast enough.
One of the blades sliced across his shoulder, but the other never connected. Gunther stood in front of Kaethe blocking the skaven's second blow. He slashed at the skaven attempting to force him back but was caught by the skaven's second blade. It cut him across the chest and Gunther stepped back.
With a cry of hate, Varick charged the skaven, hoping to catch it off guard with the suddenness of his attack. Placing all his strength into his blow, he brought his blade crashing down onto his opponent's head. However, his opponent weaved around the stroke and the blade lodged itself deep into the earth, leaving Varick open to attack.
Before the skaven could counter-attack, however, Gunther was once more before it. The two swordsmen engaged the skaven assassin, each man handling one of the skaven's blades. The combatants traded blows, evenly matched against one another, until an arrow hit the assassin in the chest. Its beady eyes wide with shock, the Skaven stared down at the deep stain of red spreading across its clothing. While it was distracted, Gunther removed its head with one swift sword stroke. The skaven fell to the ground. Immediately the remaining guards cheered, the skaven was dead. The four guards rushed to the carriage to tell Kantor the good news.
"Kantor, the skaven is dead! We have won," Varick exclaimed as he opened the carriage door.
As he opened the door he stumbled back, shocked. The other three gathered around the carriage to see the cause. Inside, Alaric Kantor lay in a red pool of his own blood, a slim, crimson stained dagger protruding from his body still clasped in his hands. Kaethe nearly screamed, the other guard fell to his knees, and Gunther nearly laughed at the cruel irony that fate had wrought.
Amidst a copse of green lush trees was a small camp warmed by a single, defiant fire. Four figures adorned various positions around the camp. The moon's solemn light and the night's dead silence added to the grim atmosphere created by Alaric Kantor's death. Varick dared to break the somber silence.
"Um," he faltered, the silence created a difficult barrier, "so how about it? I suggest we all work together from now on. I mean," he stumbled, "we work pretty well together, right?"
"I do not believe failure constitutes praiseworthy teamwork," the remaining guard, Barthel, spat.
"That is correct," Gunther agreed dryly.
"Even so, we did our best. It would appear, however, that Alaric Kantor's strength was lacking. The failure could hardly be considered our fault. I believe it is true, that while we were not successful, we did display several admirable traits in our service together, even if for that brief moment," Kaethe countered, though his voice was confident, his face was emotionless.
Barthel did not speak. Contrarily, Gunther rose, "I can agree with that, if only to mend the mistakes of today in continued service with you fellows. To that end, I agree to this proposition and join," he announced.
"As you can tell by my defense of Kunze, I to agree with this proposition and join as well," Kaethe stated.
"Barthel?" Varick inquired.
"Sorry, I'll pass. I'll leave this failure in the past where it belongs. I can't work with a group that was created to amend for it. I'll part with you at the next city," Barthel said. After a pause, he added, "However, I still wish you good luck on your travels."
"I understand," Varick acknowledged, "Gunther, Kaethe, I guess that means we will be traveling together from now on, correct?"
"It would appear so," Kaethe agreed.
"And so," Gunther rose, "will we have a name for this group?"
A voice startled Gunther and Kaethe from their reveries. Both recognized the voice and the figure that owned it. Braeden Kaiser.
"Kaethe, Gunther," Braeden addressed them tonelessly, "we have another job."
"I see, quicker than usual," Gunther commented knowingly.
"And here I was hoping for at least two days of rest. I guess it really was too much to ask," Kaethe mumbled.
"You're not the only one," Braeden commented, though his face remained emotionless, "alright, you remember, follow me."
Braeden then presumed to walk away, with Kaethe and Gunther following.