Hey everyone! Miss me? Yeah, its been a year, sorry bout that. I DID say that my focus was on AGC and it still is. I was planning on writing for this story and some other story once I finished season 3 for that story and take a break. Lo and behold, I got a review a couple nights ago asking if I was ever going to return.

Does this answer your question :D ?

That being said, I'm still sticking to what I said, I'm going to finish season 3 of AGC before I commit to writing anything else. But here's a reward for being so patient.

Also, holy crap, For Honor has gone through a lot in the time since I was here. Outlanders? Pacts with Wyverns? Magic bracelets? And each of the main characters have gotten reworks, except for my main man Jorm, who will be getting one of the biggest ones ever! I can't wait!

See you all next time! Hope it doesn't take a year this time!

"This means I am speaking"

'This mean I am thinking'

*This is a sound effect*

This means this is a flashback

This means it is a combat line from the game in the speaker's language

"{This means someone is speaking in their native language, latin, japanese, etc}"

For Balance, For Honor


It was calming in a way. The lull after a storm. Where one's body had grown accustomed to the rampant chaos of the howling winds, the crash of thunder and the malice of the waves trying to drag the ship under the merciless sea.

Now, it was the opposite. A light breeze drifted over one's skin, gently caressing it like a lover. The sun shone brightly overhead, bathing the world in its warm rays. Even the tide had been quelled, gently rocking the longboat and its battered crew like a cradle. The world was almost dead quiet, if not for the shifting waves.

"Ugh…" Sitting against the stem, the Shaolin's eyes fluttered and he absently ran his hand over his bald head. His body ached all over and his skin was sticky with the scent of salt. He almost gagged at the acidic taste in his mouth, the remnant of his last meal escaping his stomach the night before.

The night before. His mind was too fuzzy to recall. What had happened again?

He cracked his eyes open, immediately regretting the decision as the sun flooded his retinas. He shielded his face while he rapidly blinked. Soon enough, his eyes adjusted and he took in his surroundings, namely the deck of a Viking vessel. The boards were stained with drying puddles of water, as well as several trails of red along the back of the ship. The sail idly flapped in a playful gust, the white serpent almost roaring to the sky on its field of green and light orange despite the tail in its maw.

In an instant, it all came flooding back(poor choice of words perhaps). The fort, the attack, the storm, the truce and the narrow escape. He almost laughed. He had been a part of it all and he could still scarcely believe what had happened and the situation he now found himself in.

'We.' He corrected himself. 'The situation we have found ourselves in.' He lowered his gaze to see that yes, his reluctant allies were still here. The Orochi was slumped against the starboard side, the Warden was on his knees with his arms wrapped around the mast and the Jormungandr was at the back, reclining on the small seat there with her head hung low and the rudder still held tightly in her grasp.

They all appeared to be asleep.

For a moment, the monk found himself at a loss. What was he to do? The wary warriors that they were, he imagined that they would immediately attack him if he were to try and wake them. A point proven by how they all held their weapons close, even in sleep.

Though he wasn't one to talk, as he had his staff within arms reach.

'Maybe I should let them rest a bit longer. Now, where are we?' He wondered. Gripping either side of the ship, he shakily hoisted himself up, his legs quivering from his lack of naval experience. His stomach did a backflip as the deck rocked under his feet, but thankfully he had nothing left to spew over the side anymore.

Finally standing, his eyes scanned the horizon. All that met him was the lapis blue ocean, stretching endlessly into all directions. There was nothing else. He had no idea where they were.

"Right. Not a sailor." He muttered under his breath.

So focused on searching for anything around him, he didn't notice the Warden shifting in his sleep, his grip around the mast slackening enough that his body began to list to the side and he fell to the deck in a clattering of metal plates.

The lull was thoroughly shattered as all three of the slumbering warriors were startled awake, the Shaolin whirling around from the noise The Warden floundered around on the deck for a second before staggering to his feet. The Orochi's head cocked up and she leapt up, drawing her blade in reaction to what she perceived as a threat. Finally, the Jormungandr let out a snort, raising her head and glancing about, then she sneered.

"Great… so last night wasn't a dream. You're all still here." She grumbled.

"Regrettably." The Orochi shot back wearily.

"So…" The Warden groaned as he stretched his aching body from having fallen asleep sitting up. "We survived. Does this mean the truce is still on? Otherwise…" He trailed off, holding his longsword with the tip on the deck.

"Calm yourself." The Shaolin implored from the front of the ship. "The agreement was until we're on dry land. Speaking of, anyone know where we are?" He asked.

Three heads turned to the Viking at the stern, who they could tell was rolling her eyes despite them being concealed by her helm. She inclined her head to the clear sky.

"Well… we've been sailing all night with a southern heading, or as best I could in that storm. I locked the tiller before we fell asleep, so we probably kept it, if I had to guess from where the sun is."

"Can you get to the point?" The Warden demanded impatiently, earning a quick glare.

"As I was saying, we probably passed Claw Island last night, so we're probably in the middle of the Reddened Sea. Which means we'll be about two days from the Myre."

The Orochi's head perked up at the mention of her home.

"So if we keep our course we'll find land in about two days?" The Shaolin repeated, feeling somewhat relieved that he wouldn't have to suffer on this ship for too much longer.

"Aye." She nodded.

"Hold on." The Warden interjected. "Why the Myre? Why not Ashfeld or Valkenheim? Are those not closer?"

The Jormungandr gave him an annoyed look and held up a finger. "One, the wind is carrying us in this direction, so no it would not be faster." She held up another. "Two, unless you forgot, Happvad fell to the god's wrath last night and I wager it didn't stop there." She followed the statement by raising her thumb. "And three and I can't make this more clear, I don't like you very much."

"Humph." He crossed his arms. "So we're going to be ambushed and killed by Samurai just because you're feeling spiteful?"

"Unlikely." They all turned to the Orochi, who had set herself down on the deck cross legged with her sheathed sword placed in front of her. "I have no way to signal my forces from here. Not to mention they'll receive word of what transpired yesterday and I'll be presumed dead. You all will likely get a running head start, if I don't kill you when we land of course."

"Thanks for being honest I guess." The Warden muttered, leaning himself against the side and resting his sword in both hands. "So this is the plan? Just keep sailing until we hit the Myre?"

"Unless you want to steer. Go ahead." The Jormungandr sneered, gesturing to the tiller mockingly.

"You're lucky you're the only one who knows how to, Savage." He spat. "Otherwise I'd be feeding the depths with your corpse."

"You keep thinking that, {metalhead}! I'd kill you with my bare hands and use your helmet for a pissbucket!"

"Is that a challenge?" The Warden stood up and raised his sword.

The Jormungandr leapt to her feet, fists brandished. "Nay, a trifle!"

Before either of them could make the first swing, the Shaolin leapt between them and planted his palms against their chests, holding them back.

"Woah, woah, calm yourselves, please! There's plenty of boat for everyone!"

The Jormungandr slapped his hand away and snarled. "Plenty of MY ship, you mean?!"

"Look, we only have to suffer each other's company for two days. Then, you can kill yourselves 'till your heart's content. Can you wait that long?"

Both warriors stared daggers at each other before finally relenting and stepping away.

"There, thank you." He sighed in relief and wiped his brow while they set themselves back down on opposite sides of the ship.

There they all sat in complete quiet. Not a single word, nay, a sound escaped the members of the group, the creaking of the ship and the curling of the waves. The monk noticed the three other warrior's eyes flicking between themselves, as well as him on occasion. The fierce sense of loathing that they were sending each other's way was palpable and greater than when they gave it to him. Sure, they definitely didn't trust him and he'd likely be killed just the same, but the animosity between the peoples of Heathmoor ran deeper than anything he had ever seen.

Afterall, the Wu Lin (and him by extension) were still relatively new to their war, being only a few years since the army of the Gaoling dynasty had journeyed through the mountain range that had kept their peoples separate all this time. This hate that they had for each other had been allowed to fester, worsened by centuries of conflict, or at least that was what he had learned from the texts that he had the opportunity to save on his travels westward.

Glancing between the three, he grew more nervous when he spotted the tight grips they held on their weapons, all of them too ready to fight for his liking. Two days of this. If this standoff went on for too long, he knew they were going to fight again, truce and intervention be damned.

What he needed was a distraction, something to keep their minds off each other, at least for the time being.

After a moment to gather his thoughts, he spoke.

"Now that I've had time to consider…" They all turned to him. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of knowing the man and women of whom I'm sailing with."

"What about it?" The Viking said contemptuously.

"Well… I was thinking… we could introduce ourselves?" He asked cautiously.

The three other warriors looked at him, incredulity on all their faces despite being obscured by their helm, mask and faceplate respectively. They were all wondering if he had gone mad, if he had to guess.

"Why?" The Orochi replied, her brow raised.

"Do we have anything better to do?" He offered. "I'd rather call you by your names rather than things like "Savage" or… whatever she keeps calling us." He gestured to the Viking in the back.

They all went silent, glancing at one another.

'Looks like they're going to need a little push.'

"How about this, I'll go first." He cleared his throat and placed a hand to his chest. "I am Feng Shun. I am humbled to meet you all." He said in a cordial tone, clasping his hands together in front of him, his left fist wrapped in his right and bowed his bald head.

A hush fell over the vessel as he finished his bow.

Then the Viking snorted. "Jokes on you. Now I know what to put on your headstone."

Shun's friendly smile teetered a bit but he remained unperturbed for the sake of diplomacy. "Anyone want to go next?"

Again, no one spoke up, though they were all looking at each other minus the hostility this time. More like wariness and perhaps confusion.

He didn't expect anyone to jump at the chance, but he figured at least one other person would do so.

It took almost another minute before something happened.

"Hm." The Orochi hummed softly. "In war, one must treasure every secret as they do knives. Their identity especially so. But when a foe gives it so easily? I'm afraid you have me at a loss for words."

"What do you have to lose offering it now?" Shun shrugged.

She thought for a moment longer, then nodded. "Very well." She reached up, untied the laces around her chin and lifted her kabuto off her head. Her face revealed, the group took in the sight of her fair skin, the only blemish being the small sliver of a scar cutting through her left brow. Taking a second to attend to the top knot her raven hair was tied in, she then turned to face the room as it were.

"I am Watanabe Rin. Sword in service to my Shogun, lord Takanaka of the Royal Clan of her majesty, Empress Ayu of the Myre. An honor to meet your acquaintance I suppose, being the only one to show any form of decency on this voyage."

Shun smiled while the knight and viking nearby scoffed. "Your kindness is appreciated, Miss Watanabe. I find that maintaining an air of cordiality serves one better than constant bitterness."

Rin's expression didn't change, but she gave him another small nod.

"So, who's next?" Shun asked, turning to the remaining two unnamed warriors.

They glanced at each other, as if silently trying to goad the other into accepting his request in a staring contest. One that the viking seemed to win as the Warden let out a low groan, rolling his head and likely his eyes under his faceplate.

"Ugh… well… I guess I can't let myself get outdone by a Samurai." The Jormungandr bristled. "What the hell?" The Warden muttered. He set his longsword down on the deck, but his fingers lingered on the hilt. He gave the group a quick glance, as if expecting one of them to strike while his guard was down, but when none made a move he reached up and undid the leather chinstrap of his helm. His mail and plates clicked as he pulled it off, a head of dark brown hair falling out, shaggy and unkempt as it reached down to the back of his neck.

"Not going to lie, I needed to take that off." He admitted, idly scratching at the small beard lining his mouth and chin, crudely shorn with a knife. He let out a small, satisfied sigh, wiping away at some dirt and ash that had been smeared around his blue eyes, being the only thing to get through his faceplate.

His grooming finished, he regarded his reluctant allies with a wary look, setting his helm down by his side. He straightened and put his hand to his armored chest. "So uh, right. You may address me by my title, Sir Edric of the Iron Legion. In service to, well, the Iron Legion and the people of Ashfeld. I'd say it was nice to meet you all, but I'd be lying."

"A sentiment easily shared." Rin said, her eyes darting to the viking who made a small gesture with her free hand. Shun didn't know what it meant but he had an idea. Nevertheless, he was undeterred as his smile grew.

"A little tenuous, but good progress. Thank you Edric, ah, Sir Edric." He gave another bow. "Now that just leaves us with one left."

Shun and the newly dubbed Rin and Edric turned their heads back towards the stern. The horned woman blinked and threw a glance over her shoulder.

"Yes, we mean you."

She clicked her teeth and spun back around. "And why would I do that? You may have tricked these two fools, but I will not be so easily swayed!" She hissed.

"It's no trick! I merely wish to know who I speak with, especially the brilliant seafarer who saved our lives." He said, trying to be as amiable as possible, just to get another hiss as the woman grasped the pommel of her hammer with her free hand.

"Flattery will get you nowhere. You only convinced me last night because there was no way out on my own. It's that same desperation that stops me from throwing all of you overboard with a smile on my face. I'M the captain here! I don't have to do anything you say!" She spat.

Shun grimaced, trying to find a way to convince her.

His planning was interrupted with a sigh from Rin.

"Just give it up, Monk." She told him, massaging her brow. "There's no bargaining with these northern animals."

The Jormungandr let out a low growl, her boot tapping off the deck.

"Miss Watanabe, please don't!" Shun whispered.

"I am surprised though." Rin continued. "I would've thought that a vicious barbarian such as yourself would prefer it if her enemies knew who slew them when the time comes."

Said barbarian bristled, baring her teeth. Meanwhile, Edric had began to smirk. "Probably scared too. Afraid of the damage we could wreak if we only knew her name!" He added, chuckling at the now fuming woman's expense, whose foot was tapping faster.

"You mock me?" She growled low.

"No. Merely stating facts, that unless you were to disprove them, you'd have to tell us." The samurai answered, inspecting her arm guards nonchalantly.

Shun swallowed, glancing back at the Viking who was currently grinding her teeth into dust. All three of them stiffened when she breathed in, the grasp on their weapons tightening as it seemed Shun's little gamble had proven disastrous.

Then she exhaled, visibly deflating and letting go of her hammer to prop her head up on her fist. Her gaze shifted onto the horizon.

"..iv." She muttered softly, so much so that none of them could hear what she said over the cresting of the waves.

"S-Sorry?" Shun asked. She gave him a glare.

"My name is Siv! Happy?!" She spat.

Shun sat back, stunned. His eyes flicked to Rin, who merely gave him a knowing eye and an upwards curl of the corner of her mouth.

He let out a breath and turned back to the Viking. "Yes. Thank you, Siv. Though I am feeling a little underwhelmed. Just Siv? Nothing else?"

"Just. Siv. Got it?"

"Then what about-?"

"No, my helm stays on and there's nothing you can say to make me remove it." She ground out, keeping her eyes out on the sea.

Edric stood up. "How fair is that? We removed ours, you should do the same!" He protested loudly and Siv glared at him.

"I gave you my name, that was all that was asked of me. Not my fault you two went further than that."

"Why you..!" Edric's gauntlet clenched.

"She's getting a rise out of you." Rin remarked and he whirled around.

"I don't need you telling me that!"

"Doesn't make it untrue."

Before Shun could get a word in edgewise into the rapidly escalating conversation, a low groan made the entire group pause.

"Was… that the boat?" Shun asked. Rin shook her head.

"No, I'm fairly certain that was his stomach." She said, the slight red tinge on the Warden's cheeks confirming it for her. He cleared his throat, giving everyone an annoyed look.

"So what if it was? I'm no less the fighter even if I've gone a day without food!" He huffed, crossing his arms.

"Of course not!" Shun laughed. "We're all hungry right? Surely we will feel better after a good meal!" He said, looking to Rin who shrugged.

"Speak for yourself. Samurai are trained under much martial discipline. We can sustain ourselves on nothing far longer than others."

Another growl came from her abdomen, dusting her face with red.

"I think your belly agrees if not yourself." Shun chuckled as she frowned and looked away. "Siv, you prepared your boat, ah, ship's stores before we left I hope?"

Siv raised a brow. "Not only do I save you from Ragnarok, you expect me to feed you too?"

"If you would be so kind?" He pleaded, lowering his head once more. He had anticipated further resistance after how much effort it took just to get the Jormungandr's name, which was why a slight chill went down his spine when her mouth twisted into a wide grin.

"Heh, alright. If you insist." She said, releasing her grip on the rudder and standing up. She stepped to the bottom of the mast and hooked her fingers in a small gap in the deck before pulling out a floorboard. Setting it aside, she lifted out two more to reveal a small compartment in the interior of the ship.

The three outsiders watched as she reached inside and pulled out a corded sack, a small wooden barrel, a skin sloshing with some kind of liquid and finally a cast iron cauldron, setting it down with a clank.

"That… is all you have?" Edric muttered, unimpressed.

"I packed enough for myself and a couple others for my journey from the stronghold to Happvaad. Bite me." She shot back, pulling some small wooden bowls and placing them next to the rest of the supplies.

"There's four of us, you really think this will last?" Rin asked, getting a chortle from Siv.

"Don't underestimate us Vikings. We've sailed to the furthest corners of the world while you were mucking about in those swamps you Rotfeet seem to love so much. Our food is packed with all the nutrients we need to keep us alive, for weeks if we ration it." She pointed at the various containers, listing them off. "Some dried meat, roots and herbs to ward off sailor's sickness, water, milk and a personal favourite…" She lifted the lid off the cauldron. "...Farnest!"

Shun peered inside and grimaced at the sight of a large, sodden mass of slop. It appeared to be some kind of porridge or gruel made of oats and small, shriveled berries. The way that it swirled in the confines of the cauldron made his stomach churn almost as much as his seasickness had.

"Truly, a bountiful Viking feast." Rin remarked dryly as Siv pulled a gnawed, wooden spoon off of the cauldron's handle and began to stir the thick mixture, laughing cruelly.

"Desperation is the best seasoning. You'll change your tune when you go without eating for weeks." She teased, scooping some farnest into her mouth and chewing loudly.

The unwilling passengers regarded each other with uncertainty, their quarrel temporarily forgotten in the face of such "rugged" cuisine.

Edric managed to muster up his spirits first, sucking a deep breath. "No Viking, warrior or meal will be my undoing. I'll, uh, have some I guess."

Siv looked positively thrilled as she fished out a blob of farnest and deposited it in a bowl with a splat. She held it out, her toothy smile still wide as Edric took his meal. The Warden stared at the lumpy food, then he pulled off his gauntlet, holding it under his arm. With his bare hand he scooped up a portion, grimacing at the wet sound it made and shoved it into his mouth. They all watched as he slowly chewed, Siv letting out a bark of laughter when his face twisted up in revulsion.

He swallowed. "D-Delicious." He coughed, looking anything but happy with the experience.

"What about you Samurai? Feeling brave enough to handle a little northern delicacy?" Siv smirked.

Despite what she just witnessed, Rin steeled her expression, trying to appear as composed as possible. She made a beckoning gesture and in a second another bowl of farnest was in her hand. The Orochi immediately turned and sat down at the front, leaving Shun last in line.

He took one last glance at the cauldron and shuddered. "Do you, um, have anything else?"

"Hmf." Siv huffed, looking more than pleased with herself. "You can have a piece of meat, but that'll be it until tomorrow."

"A-Actually, let me rephrase that…" He stammered. "...anything else besides meat?"

The viking gave him a bewildered look. "No meat? What kind of madman are you?"

"It's a… monk thing." He explained.

She blinked, as if Shun had grown a second head. "Oooookay? I've got something I guess."

She reached back below deck, rummaging around before pulling something out.

"Here." She said, whipping the small object at him. His hand snapped up and caught it, revealing a round, brown… thing, with rough, porous skin.

"Um… what is this?"

"That, is a potato." Siv said, taking another bite of farnest. "A Valkenheim delicacy if you will. You can do anything with them. Boiled, roasted, mashed, stewed… don't usually eat it raw though, so you brought this on yourself."

Shun beheld the odd mass in his hand. It certainly didn't look appetizing the way it was, but it was his only option other than the gruel Siv seemed more than happy eating.

Of all the principles he had to hold on to.

"Thank you for this gift." He said graciously all the same, bowing his head with his palmed fist once more.

Siv gave him one last raised brow and leaned back in her seat. "Yeah, yeah, just eat that and rest a bit. We're going to need to take shifts to keep our heading later." She said, waving him off with her spoon.

With his meager meal in hand, Shun turned and made his way back to his own seat on the opposite side of the ship. Sitting down, he reminded himself of his fortune.

Yes, he was stuck on a small boat with three sworn enemies who were but a hairsbreadth from tearing each other apart. And yes, he was stuck with them on the ocean until they reached land, hostile territory he might add.

But at least he was still alive. He had succeeded at staving off violence for a little longer and he had food to keep him nourished. That had to count for something, right?

Turning the "potato" over in his palm one last time, Shun lifted it up to his mouth and took a bite. The piece broke off with a crunch and he began to chew. He grimaced at the earthy, bland flavor and resisted the urge to spit it back up.

'Two days.' His eyes trailed to the midday sun hanging over his head. 'Just two days.'