On a biweekly basis, Andrew Carrie's Caravan came across some town or settlement and proceeded in its business of trade. As quickly became apparent, the caravan did not merely dispense goods or services, but also the scarce commodity of information. Each town was its own isolated segment of a much larger, much stranger world, but could never see beyond the edges of that particular slice. Andrew Carrie carried rumors and news which he gave out in direct proportion to the purchase of wares.

As he tended to this responsibility, the others would go about the chores of their existences. The sensationalists would astound and the craftsmen would get straight to work. In line with these necessary tendencies, the guards would guard. In the early days, when Tommy was distant and Shoko alone, they would all stand at separate corners of the caravan space and keep a hard eye each on every occurrence.

However, this changed as Tommy began his sidling step back toward the world. The stagnancy which had pervaded that time was drifted off, and a new sort of purposeful march took the place. As the speaking number grew, so did the apparence of those who eternally did not. The few bunks which were always left empty began to show that lack clearly with every moment of notice.

Soon after the three guards came to an ability of coexistence, they cooperated in the rejuvenation of forces. At that next town reached, the number was split into uneven ranks of watchers and hawkers. As Travis kept his eye on the caravan, the younger pair would speak with the visiting townsfolk and propose recruiting concepts. Most often there came only voices of disinterest or arguments, but an occasional acceptance did exist.

On this day, there were seven guards with the caravan: those three senior and the four recruited from passed villages. Travis stayed back with three of the rookies, while Tommy and Shoko went on with the other. His name was Nate and he was rather young, though not nearly as young as Shoko or Tommy. In joining, Nate had brought his own weapon. This brought about strange circumstances, as he brandished a pole arm and the three trained warriors had all been brought up on knowledge of the sword. Between them, though, they were able to lend some measure of advice and instruction.

He was still an inept warrior, though, and thus went along in the search for further troops. This town was larger than those before, and Travis needed the more skilled fighters to help in legitimate guarding, while Tommy and Shoko required at least one more body of accompaniment to ward off villainous intent by merit of numbers rather than force. Therefore, Nate came along and the others stayed.

Now they moved through the town, searching about for recruitment opportunities. They watched the people as the people watched them. Everyone here wore strange garb, and there was not a moment when Shoko could fully ignore that. Each place they visited found some other fashion which struck her eye. That was surely what threw the visitors into the townspeople's notice. The locals watched with inquisitive and suspicious eyes, but never too unfriendly in that observance.

Occasionally they would meet with someone, but more often the trio spoke among themselves. Tommy and Shoko still had leagues of history to catch up on, and Nate had not lived past foreign oddity, not yet. The three guards got to know each other while strolling through the dirt laden streets. Shoko glanced up toward the sky and noted the sun's position. That was to tell time, as they were supposed to be back about noon. That had not come yet, not quite yet. Some dozen degrees remained until that time.

Shoko looked back down and saw that the others had engaged someone in conversation. They were, at the moment, loitering outside the town's inn. She watched as the person asked a few questions about their line of work, and as Tommy inquired about the person's interests.

"We've been with the caravan for six months," Tommy said, and Shoko watched interest spread across the person's face. "It's a good job, and a good place to be."

"I'm quite new," Nate said, "but they've been decent to me. Nothing too dreadful has happened."

"What is the pay like?"

This conversation stretched on for a few minutes but that person was, in the end, not interested. Nonplussed, the trio wandered away. This departure did not last long without interruption, as a stumbling man came quickly to accost them.

"What are you… getta! Well I… What are…"

Shoko stopped short to stare at the man. His seemed generally taken apart, as if he had rolled around in mud and sweat. With each hollered word, an acrid scent came pouring from the man's mouth. His eyes rolled about, mad and half asleep. For a moment he seemed not to exist, and then the whole of his frazzled being was directed toward Shoko.

"Wareserarm? Watsitgoon! They should… they should throw that out!"

"Hey! What are you…?" She said, but could not finish because the man was suddenly bearing down on her. Shoko stumbled backward under the man's stinking, flailing weight, but could not totally escape. A sweaty, lumpy fist knocked weakly against the side of her head, and Shoko saw Tommy moving in the corner of her eye.

By the time she struck the ground, the man was knocked away and rolling his own strange, dirty path. Tommy helped her up and asked if she was okay, to which she nodded. Acknowledging that but not really accepting it, Tommy turned with bared teeth toward the man. He fumbled about on the ground, but was soon on his feet.

He stood, always leaning in some direction, and was still nearly a foot taller than Tommy, The man was wide too, and heavy. In another moment he came barreling forward, and Tommy had only enough time to whisper to Shoko before being attacked.

"No swords, no blood…" Tommy whispered, and then was knocked backward.

For knowing its approach, Tommy was able to accept the fight with easier battle. He batted the fists aside, for the most part, and did not let the man fall upon him. However, the man was much larger and those punches which did land were visibly damaging. One knocked Tommy to the side and one brought him nearly double. It seemed that some lucidity had come into the man with adrenaline and pumping blood.

Shoko was headed forward to help, but Nate beat her to it.

He had not heard Tommy's whisper, but seemed not to need it. As he ran, Nate spun his spear around and knocked its wooden base on the man's shoulder. He went stumbling to the side, but was brought back by an equalizing strike on the other side. One straight jab sent him back, stumbling and certainly defeated.

The man fell into two others. The stranger on the left grabbed him under the arms, while the rightmost man caught Nate's spear in his hand. They did not loom forward, but rather upward, as if they were much taller than they actually were. They looked between the fighting trio, seeming to decide something in that glance, and then one said

"This is our friend. We will take him away."

Those were the only words, and then they disappeared out through the crowd. This was the first notice Shoko took of the crowd, and the last because they seemed to disperse upon her notice. There was something, though, that she noticed in the boiling, leaving mass. Some woman stood still while others left, and seemed to stare straight at Shoko. She was familiar, strange and old and familiar. Shoko stared back, unsure who this was or could be. There was some glimmer inching forward through her head, and then Tommy's voice broke through the nondirectional buzz.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Shoko looked over at him, then back out into the crowd which was already nearly gone.

The woman was gone too.

"I… uh…" she said, then looked back over at Tommy. "Yeah, we'd better get back."

Tommy nodded, and soon they were headed away.