A/N: For those of you who actually like this fanfic, sorry for the long delay. Life has been... hectic to say the least. Here's three new chapters to make up for my absence.

Barron had admittedly gotten lost. Despite being taught how to read maps his lack of knowledge on the world outside the Guild made travel rather… difficult. It certainly didn't help that the map makers of his time were known to take "artistic liberties" with their works. However, when Barron saw the bridge he knew he had arrived. He walked up to the large wooden gates and nodded in gratitude to the two tipsy guards who opened the city up to him without inhibition. The next guard was actually sober enough to do his job.

"Oiy, you're new here, aren't you?"

Barron's only response was a simple nod. The man crossed his arms, possibly in an attempt to show off his longsword, and fixed a frown on his face. He looked at Barron suspiciously before he spoke again.

"We have some rules around here that you need to know about."

Moving closer to Barron the guard put a hand on the young man's shoulder. Barron almost flipped the man but restrained himself. He wasn't one to like physical contact. At least he didn't think he liked it very much. Could you blame him? Most of his life he was training, and that training often included being punched, kicked, or the target of "pointy sticks," as some might call them. However, Barron could tell the man had no intention of hurting him, and allowed himself to be lead to an odd rack that lay on the side of the road.

"Bowerstone is a peaceful town - I will have to confiscate your weapons for now."

Understanding what the man had told him Barron leaned his sword against the peculiar structure and hung his quiver and bow against a hook. As he did so the guard smiled in appreciation. Feeling much friendlier with the young man the guard began to speak once more.

"There are shops, inns, lots of different people, games - all kinds of things."

Looking over at the bearded man Barron choked out, "Tavern?"

The man let out a deep rumble of a laugh and slung an arm around Barron's shoulder, "It's the building in front of you, just up the road here!"

Barron nodded and attempted to get out of the man's grip. The guard however only tightened his hold as he leaned closer, much to Barron's discontent.

Point towards a woman who stood at the steps of a mansion the bearded man warned, "Oh and keep an eye open for Lady Grey. Treat her with respect. She is the Mayor after all."

Finally the man released Barron and went on his way. Barron let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding with slumped shoulders. He brushed the dust off of his shirt that the burly man had left behind. Taking a moment he looked back towards the woman. She wore a decorative, and very frilly purple dress, long gloves, and flowers in her hair. Barron quirked an eyebrow at the woman in confusion as she shewed away a peasant. In all honesty, the warrior had thought such clothing existed only in storybooks.

Shaking his head Barron ran towards the tavern. In the herd of drunken men stood Maze. The man's back was against a wall as he watched the peasants stumble about in distaste. Barron pushed through the unbalanced crowd and stood obediently before the man who had saved him.

Peering down at Barron the man remarked, "Been enjoying all the attention, have you?"

Barron simply shrugged. He didn't fully understand why all the other Heroes enjoyed the praise, or in some cases, scorn, that they got for their actions. In fact, he had found the crowd of people who swarmed him after he played pest control rather annoying. Despite this he gave the older man a smile, wondering if he had heard of the little adventure.

Nodding Maze said, "Yes, I've heard of your encounter with the Wasp Queen."

As he said this two men from across the way began clapping and cheering. Barron gave them an unnoticed confused look while Maze rolled his eyes at their antics. Shaking his head the older man began to speak once more.

"As you can see most of Bowerstone is talking about it. But you shouldn't let that kind of thing go to your head."

"Anyway, that isn't why I called you here. You see, there are dark forces gathering that put your giant insect to shame."

Maze began walking away. Out of routine Barron raced after him, but stumbled when the man spoke again.

"Tell me, how much do you remember of the night I took you to the Guild? Of the raid of Oakvale?"

Noticing the way Barron's pace slowed and the shell shocked expression on the younger man's face he rationalized, "Not much I wager? A most terrible night."

Once they were in a secluded enough place Maze continued, "I'd thought those bandits killed your whole family, and that you'd be next?

Barron's scratchy, underused voice floated in the air, "You… said "thought"... what does…?"

The young warrior's eyes widened when Maze next spoke, "It seems there may have been another survivor."

"Your sister."

When Barron heard this his mouth fell open in disbelief. It opened and closed repeatedly as he tried to choke out more words. However, his mouth felt much drier than it ever had, and the already difficult process of forming words became impossible. He blinked several times as he tried to will away the strange yet familiar burning that was spreading behind his eyes. He clenched his jaw tight, unsure what was happening to himself. Barron was thankful, yet frightened, when Maze spoke once more.

"I'm afraid it's only a rumor, and there's no way to be certain yet. But I thought you should know."

Maze began walking away, ready to leave his pupil in a complete stupor, but then turned back to Barron after having already strided several feet, "And for pity's sake, boy, make sure to replace that basic equipment while you're here."

The man then left Barron after being enveloped in his own magic, disappearing without a trace. For a while Barron just stood there, his body completely immobile from the torrent of emotions. Now, to say Barron was previously emotionless until this point would be nothing short of a lie. He had felt since the tragedy that motivated him had taken place, often in fact. However, he was not accustomed to feeling more than one at a time, let alone at such a volume. As Maze's final words finally sunk in Barron shook his head wildly in an attempt to regain his usual composure. He then quickly made his way towards the closest blacksmith.