Into Darkness/Civilization

Original Postings: October-November 2020

Revised: April 6th, 2021


She was going to die, wasn't she? Just her luck!

Everyone who strived to be an adventurer knew some of the risks, such as an untimely death, but to die in a glorious battle at the rank of bronze or silver didn't sound that bad.

After all, it would've meant that something was finally strong enough to best you, which would be no easy feat once you were at that rank. You'd have the renown and respect of all of those in the guild, and your name would be remembered by those around you. Bards would keep your grand achievements alive for generations to come, and your name would have meant something.

So how did she end up here? To this very moment?

She was nowhere near close to being a Silver Ranked Adventurer, nor close to having the prestige of being a Bronze Ranked Adventurer. Even the Gemstone Ranks were out of her grasp.

No, she had only gotten out of Obsidian Rank the past month, having been promoted to Steel Rank after a particularly successful assignment in dealing with a fledgling cult sect. It was good pay for the difficulty of the mission.

However despite the pay that it brought in, it was not enough to cover the increasing costs of her path to become a knight. Potions were a small dent in the stream of income, but with her armor and weapons constantly finding themselves in the care guilds smith, it was taking more and more out of her pool of coin.

Not to mention that in order to get better-paying jobs, one must be of higher rank, and so, almost every day she was back out there, taking whatever the guild offered to keep a steady stream of income and reputation within the guild.

It truly was a frustrating situation she found herself in, but it was the price to be a solo adventurer, no one to rely on but oneself.

And so, she thought it a fortuitous happening when she walked into the guild that evening, after returning from a john that could be considered paltry in pay.

She had spoken to the receptionist at the counter, to report how the caravan had been guarded from bandits, and was handed a pouchful of silver, but she could not help but overhear the discussion occurring at the counter next to hers.

Her eyes bolting to the right corners of her eyes, she could see a party made of what looked like Rhea Sorcerer, a Half-Elf Rogue, and a Dwarven Berserker.

From what she could hear, their Half-Elf Rogue was trying his damndest to persuade the senior receptionist of the guild to give them this quest, which was apparently issued by a local earl to take out a nest of goblins, for thirty gold pieces!

But the Guild Girl would not relent, as it seemed that the party was made of one Steel Ranked and two Obsidian Ranked, which is a balanced party. However according to the receptionist, it categorized them as a 'Steel Ranked Party', which would not allow them take on the quest they wanted, which was for a 'Sapphire Ranked Party'.

So she did the only reasonable thing anyone in her financial situation would do. She slowly leaned towards them, and asked if they needed another one for the quest.

Of course, they asked her what was her role, and what she could do. She told them that she was a frontliner, and a good one at that. They seemed a bit hesitant to recruit her for the job, but once she pulled out her steel tag, they were sold and welcomed her in.

The look on the receptionist's face was priceless at the time, as she now could not deny the quest and simply approved it, giving them the standard warnings and farewells one in her profession would.

Once out of the guild, she made some small talk with them.

The Rhea Sorcerer had dreams to learn some of the strongest spells known to prayers.

The Half-Elf Rogue had modestly told her that he wanted to get rich one day.

The Dwarven Berserker was fulfilling an obligation to his clan, a punishment to kill over a thousand enemies or die in battle.

They seemed like a good bunch of adventurers.

It soon became clear that Rhea was the party's leader, and she was taking the reins as they made their way to their destination. Trying not to trample on their group dynamics, she thought it better to let her do her thing, after all, she knew that this party would be more receptive to a friend of theirs. Besides, they'd been through thick and thin, so it shouldn't matter too much right?

Honestly, why did she believe her plan to strike at night? Perhaps it was the confidence in her voice? Fencer Squire hadn't faced goblins since her days as porcelain, and even then, that was only five out in the open.

Doesn't matter anymore. When they decided to attack the goblins den, it marked the beginning of all their troubles.

At the beginning the assault, the Dwarven Berserker charged in first with no caution or regard for the dangers with. They rushed in after him, to find him around a bunch of dead goblins where the paths diverged.

It was an intense sight, around ten of the small goblins bisected or obliterated by the dwarf. But it was reassuring, know that if he could slaughter them with ease, the rest should be no problem.

Of course, fate was a fickle thing, as before he could regroup with them, he was barraged by a storm of arrows. That hadn't killed him, but a javelin thrown at him was the finishing blow.

Panicked, they choose to hold their current position, seeing as the goblins dumbly ran at them, allowing them to easily funnel them and kill at least twenty of them.

The Rhea sorcerer called for a fighting retreat, and they began to do so, and it looked like things would go their way despite the loss of one of the party's frontliners.

That was when a chill went up her spine, and instinctually, she moved her head to the side, whatever was thrown narrowly missed her.

It seemed that whatever 'it' was was a javelin, and it happened to have critically hit their Half-Elf Rogue, who was in the middle of making a break for the cave entrance. As he turned back to the group, another one hit him, and pinned him to the tree that sat a few feet outside the caves entrance.

With hits like that, he too was most likely dead.

The Rhea Sorcerer, having seen this occur, was now filled with fear. In a panicked state, she cast a spell on the ground, which made the floor slippery to the green horde, and the two found themselves split up.

She herself was unsure if Rhea Sorcerer had ran out of the cave, but if she hadn't, the Rhea would be good as dead.

It looked like she would get away, but only then did she realize that something was streaming down her face. She soon realized it was her blood, running profusely. The javelin that had got her companion had grazed her, and here she thought she was lucky for getting out relatively unscathed

A moment later she could hear them trailing, stomping about the forest behind her and the distant garbles of their chattering. They were giving chase.

With the adrenaline pulsing through her she knew it was time to move, and began to run without care or caution of where she was going.

She thought herself to be making good distance away from the smaller monsters, but it seemed that luck was not on her side, a root from the trees around her caught her foot, tripping her and halting her retreat.

Then they caught up to her, where she tried to fend them off in her battered state. To her misfortune, her attempts at resistance were dampened by the quickly taking exhaustion, and she was soon disarmed and restrained, each of her arms were in the clutches of these disgusting goblins.

As it was removed, it revealed her slightly bloodied ruffled shirt which was a bit tight on her modestly endowed body, causing some of the goblins to let out sounds of… joy?

With the entirety of her strength nearly exhausted, she put the last of her energy into a kick, hurting one of them. To the goblins holding her down, this must've been a humorous sight, but to the one offended, it was only enraging.

From the light that shone down from the moons, she could see that goblin raising its knife.

This is how it was going to end, at the end of a goblins dagger. Her thoughts were hazy, but it was the truth.

From the corner of her eyes, she could see what looked like a cyan 'T' in the distance. At that moment, she had simply written it off as a blood loss induced hallucination, something to calm her in her final moments.

An angel? She assumed, one to take her to the realm of the Supreme God?

Closing her eyes, she finally came to terms and accepted what she believed to be her death.

However, the pain of the stab never came after the sound of what she could only assume to spells.

Her eyes slowly opening up, she saw the warrior. Clad in silver armor, it slowly approached the goblins, disposing of them with unmatched efficiency.

One of the goblins shot an arrow at it, only for it to bounce off, a ripple of light appearing at the impact, highlighting what she could only describe as high-level sorcery, or perhaps holy miracles?

For that moment, she truly believed it was an angel.

"Hang in there." The voice calmly stated as she slowly faded out of consciousness.

… …

When Fencer Squire awoke, she found herself lying in a hastily made cot, the left side of her head throbbing as her eyes adjusted to the bright light around her.

She rubbed her eyes as she sat up. Last thing she was able to recall was how she was surrounded by goblins, and then everything else was blurry.

Looking around her new surroundings, she could see many seats around her, and a lot of armor pieces neatly organized in some respective order.

"How long have I been out?" She asked aloud, stretching out her arms.

"A couple hours already, it'll be morning soon."

A voice spoke out, catching her off guard. She hadn't been expecting a response at all. Quickly she turned around to see an individual in silver armor.

"Quite surprised that you are up."

"Wher-ah?" She tried to push herself up, but pain in aching throughout her body, nearly causing her to fall right back down. "Where… am I?"

"Easy now." A swift reply came from the armored individual. From the voice, it sounded male, but she was unsure. "Somewhere safer."

"That doesn't answer my question." She now looked down to her body, to see her garments changed from her ruffled shirt and fancy pants to makeshift attire of black articles of clothing tied around her private bits. "Did you… undress me?"

"I did." The individual confirmed, as if it wasn't unusual. He reached over his shoulder, and hiss soon following. In hand was a strange white stick. "Are you hungry?"

"You undressed me!" Fencer Squire shouted with offense in her voice, her face becoming flush as she spoke. "And you have the nerve to ask me if I'm hungry!"

"It was necessary to ensure proper medical care." The armored individual spoke as he waited for the item to be removed from his hand. "You were covered in blood, I needed to check if you had more wounds."

His free hand gestured to two broken arrow shafts.

"A grazing wound to the head, and two arrows in the back." His free hand moved back to his knee. "All things considered, you're lucky to be alive."

"Still doesn't change the fact that a stranger undressed me!" She crossed her arms and looked away with a pout. "... So you are a surgeon?"

"A field medic." His response differed, his helmet not having moved once. "Eat."

"I'm not-" Her stomach betrayed her as it growled. Defeated she reached out, taking it from his hand, not turning to meet his gaze."What is it?"

"A ration bar." He handed it to her. She brought the bar to her face, looking at it.

Preserved. She sniffed at it, suspicious of the strange meals. Preserved meals were common among adventurers, but not once had she seen something like this.

As she brought it to her mouth, he spoke up.

"Make sure to twist it before taking a bite"

Looking over her shoulder to him, she followed his instructions. Twisting the bar, parting the white part off revealed a stick which looked like bread.

Taking a bite of the food now, her face scrunched up and she was tempted to spit it right back out.

"Not very good." She understated.

"Provides the nutrition a soldier needs out in the field." He informed her. "To answer your question from earlier, I brought you back to my shelter."

"Your shelter?"

"Yes." He stood up. "It's a safe enough space to give proper medical care."

A brief bout of silence happened, giving her some time to think.

So a stranger in armor found me and brought me back to his dwelling? She took another bite of the bland bar.

"What were those things chasing you?"

"Goblins?" She raised a brow before taking another bite. "They're a type of monster."

"I see… were you hunting them?"

"My companions and I were tasked to." She quickly straightens herself out. "Did you see any of them?"

The knight simply shook his head as he looked at her. "Did this task come from the Adventurers Guild?"

"It did…" She looked at him. "Are you an adventurer with them?"

"No." The knight looked at her. "Are they mercenaries?"

"Something like that." She nodded before taking another bite of the bland food. She then opened her mouth again to ask a question. "Why did you help me?"

"I'm far from home."

She quickly deduced his reasoning. "So you saved me to learn more of this place?" "I did."

"I'll gladly tell you more later…" Quickly finishing the rest of the ration bar, she tried to get back onto her feet, her legs feeling like mush. "I still need to finish my work."

"In that state?" His voice indicated a hint of disbelief, but it was still quite level. "I advise you rest."

"I can't." She managed to get up fully. Looking around, she saw her dirtied shirt and pants across the room. Next to it was her half-plate.

"Your life is worth more than the pay." He stated quite bluntly.

"It's not about the pay… not anymore." She silently stated as she began to dress up.

A few seconds went by, and without a response she continued.

"They killed the people I was traveling with… I might have not known them well, hell I barely knew them, but I can't just leave them to rot in a goblins nest." She turned to him, tears at the edges of her eyes. "They deserve better."

She could not tell what the knight was thinking of underneath the helmet that hummed a bright blue, but then he stood up and nodded.

"I understand." Picking up something akin to a crossbow without the bow, he looked to her. "Let's get going."

"You're coming with?"

"The sooner the job is done, the sooner you'll tell me more about this place." He walked to the door, I'll be waiting outside."

… …

The commando was taking point, leading the stranger back to where he had found her.

When he had been treating her, he had noticed her dog-tag, which had all of her identifying markers, such as skin color, eye color, hair color, age, and the such. The only interesting part to him was how her name was marked as 'Fencer Squire'.

I will need to ask if that is a name or a title later. He thought as he moved forward.

"How much farther Sir Knight?" She asked as he continued moving forth.

"We're close." He stated, putting his hand up to halt. "I see hostiles."

"How many?" She asked, getting right beside him.

"Three." He easily counted them out in the darkness around them. Lifting up his DC-17m, he quickly dropped the goblins.

"That is an effective spellcaster." She seemed awed, never having seen something like it. Soon she spoke again."Can you see in the dark?"

"My helmet allows me to see in shades of grey." He answered her question, before counting the dead goblins. "This makes seven dead goblins now."

Checking his DC-17m, he had forty-one shots left. The past seven-shots have met their targets, eliminating them with extreme prejudice.

"It seems that they were looking for the four here." She crouched beside the dead goblins, a charred hole bored into each of their heads. "Disgusting little things."

Looking around in this clearing, he quickly noticed the disturbed fauna and dried blood on the ground.

"Looks like they came from this way." He looked at her. "I'm guessing the camp is this way?"

"It is." She slowly moved to him. "They are living in a cave."

"I see." He lifted up his blaster. "Stay behind me, if you get hit, I won't be able to treat you until the fighting is over."

"I'll do my best to stay out of harm's way." She agreed, taking a position behind him.

With caution, he began to follow the trail of disturbed grass and dried blood.

"So what do you know about goblins?" He asked, his head on a swivel.

"Honestly? I don't know much." She shrugged. "They're a lot of them in there, we were in the middle of a retreat when they managed to rout us."

"Anything else I should know?"

"They have strength in numbers… but they have very fragile constitutions, you've seen how your spell caster has been punching right through them."

"Right. Any information about this cave? Their camp?"

"The tunnel is long and there is a fork in the paths, that is as far as we got." She thought before adding. "I thought I saw the outline of something bigger in there."

Soon enough, they made it to the entrance of said cave.

His focus on the cave entrance, he could see what looked like an effigy or totem of some kind, probably something to represent a deity or to intimidate creatures?

He heard a gasp of shock. Quickly reacting he turned to her, blaster on the ready in the likely chance of hostiles. The young lady was looking at something, her mouth agape. Following her eyes, he was met with a tragic sight.

"That's… that was Half-Elf Rogue." She was not louder than a whisper.

The woman moved towards him, but he outreached his arm to halt her from moving past him. She opened her mouth to speak, but he gestured for silence.

He then gestured the number 'three' and pointed towards the cave entrance.

Without his helmet, he wouldn't have been able to see three goblins waiting in the darkness of the cave in this morning darkness. It seemed that they were possibly waiting to strike at those who wish to retrieve the body.

Clever creatures, setting up an ambush. Here I thought you were just going to charge out and die.

Doing a roll into the open, this action put him out in the open completely but was a surprise to the goblins, who needed to adjust their shots. Unfortunately for the goblins, their reflexes would never be equal to his, only one managing to get a shot off, but ultimately missing. His three shots, however, did not miss each goblin, striking true in center mass.

The death of these three attracted an additional five goblins, which met their ends the moment they came into '05 sight.

"Eight down. That makes fifteen." Lowering his weapon, he approached the body which was stapled to the tree by the two javelin

'05 has to admit, he has seen many brutalized bodies from the complete crushing of the body of a clone to the brutality of Trandoshan pirates, but this was certainly on the top fifteen worst deaths he has seen.

His helmet did a quick scan of the 'Half-Elf Rogue, but no vitals came back. To be expected. He thought as he lowered the dead man.

"He's dead."

"I figured but…" She sighed before moving towards the cave. As she walked to the cave, her steps were uneven and shaky. "Lets… get… going."

Quickly moving to her side, he kept her from falling straight to the ground.

"Let me go… I'm fine…" She did not sound fine, though the strained breaths.

"You can't keep going." He sternly stated. "You've barely rested, you go into that cave with me, and I can't guarantee you'll come back out alive."

"But…" She was cut off.

"I'll take care of it." He stood up. "Get some rest."

As he looked towards the cave, putting his bag on, he found himself walking towards it.

"Sir Knight." She called out to him. "Please be careful." The young lady had some concern in her eyes.

"I won't be long." He does not stop as he walks into the cave, his footsteps surely echoing as he enters.

… …

Entering the cave, it was certainly dark and cramped. It gave the appearance of being relatively empty as he made it to a fork in the cave without any new hostile contact. He easily noticed a squat body lying in a pool of what he could assume, its blood, its life ceased by a volley of arrows. Around it was a number of goblin bodies, their bodies cleaved or mangled in a way one could describe as brutal. Another twenty-five. That brings up the total to forty. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a creature as large as himself peering around the corner, down the left path, its facial profile matching that of the goblins killed earlier.

As he lifted his DC-17m, it quickly hid behind the corner, deciding not to advance after him. Smart creature.

Lowering his blaster, he looked to the mangled remains on the ground, a bunch of arrows punctured into the body. Crouching down, he noticed something attached to a necklace.

It was a glassy black tag, no more than ten millimeters in thickness. On one side was the information of the individual. Their rank and level, race, age, and date joined. Flipping it over it read out in bold letters the following: ADVENTURERS GUILD, followed with an intricate engraving next to it.

Dwarven Berserker aged 72. Is that who you were? Then he felt something ping right off his helmet, the personal deflector shield going down marginally. Turning to the right he could see that it was a goblin, a sling in hand.

He eliminated the offender with a shot to center mass. Forty-one.

However, it didn't take long for him to notice that the larger one had decided to face him. Turning to it, he saw it staring him down, eyes filled with hate and vicious growling arising from its throat.

This ones bigger. Shooting it in the chest, it recoiled in pain but then looked at him with fury, letting out a mighty howl, beginning its charge. Tougher than the small ones, should've aimed for the head. He simply noted before shooting another time, this time in the head.

Its howl however had served more than just an attempt of intimidation, for four more of its brothers had come from the depths. As they ran towards him, he aimed for the head.

The first two went down with shots to their heads, but the two further back realizing this lifted their arms to shield their faces. The third one went down with two shots to the chest, but to his misfortune, only one managed to close the distance. Still in motion, it punched him directly in the face, the deflector shield absorbing most of the blow knocking its charge down to half, nearly knocking him off his feet.

He quickly raised his blaster in an attempt to shoot, but the larger goblin pushed him straight to the wall, the unexpected force making him discharge a shot and miss, causing him drop his DC-17m.

The two of them now face to face, he could see the creature's eyes, and by the smile he could see stretched across its face, he could tell what it was thinking. Of course, its face changed from pride to abject horror when his knuckle vibroblade punched into its gut several times.

Coughing up blood onto his visor, it slowly collapsed, the helmet automatically wiping the bodily fluids from his sight. Forty-six. He repeated the number of creatures dead. Walking over it and picking up his blaster, he took count of the shots left.

Twenty-six shots left. He walked back to the divergence in the two paths. If these goblins had sent their biggest from the left, that could mean that is where the bulk of their forces may be. However, he knew that if he went straight for them, there could still be the chance that there were a few of them to the right. Better safe than sorry.

Soon making his way down the right side, he met no resistance, however his helmet easily took note of the increasing temperature. Soon reaching a larger room, he could see charred mounds all he could assume to be feces. There were bones, shattered pieces of metal and wood and other objects deemed useless.

However he quickly noticed a charred corpse on its knees in the middle of the room, its charred physique, leaving him to assume it was female, and in front of it, five smaller charred corpses, easily distinguishable as goblins.

Fifty-one. Slowly glancing through the room, soon noticed how most of the room was charred, easily coming to the easiest explainable conclusion. So, this was the source of the sound. He crouched beside the kneeling corpse, observing how her arms were outstretched. Went out fighting, unaware that the gases here would create a flame that would consume her too.

The only recognizable thing from the charred corpse was the tag made of the same material as the previous one, melted to the charred flesh of this recently departed soul. Pulling it from the body, it tore crisply as if one was tearing paper. On this tag, he could see similar information.

Rhea Sorcerer, aged 16. He looked back at the charred corpse, unsure what to feel. Deciding that now was not the time, he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, putting the tag in one of the utility pockets on his belt.

Rising, he decided to double back to the fork in the paths with the knowledge that there were still these creatures to slay. Soon heading down the left side of the cave.

As he got closer, he could hear the sounds of many of these creatures shuffling around. Peeking around, he could only catch a glimpse of their numbers

Fifteen, possibly more. He grabbed a flash grenade. Priming it, he tossed it into the room. A bright flash followed soon after. Moving into action, he knew he had fifteen seconds, maybe twenty tops to clear the room.

In this room, he could see all of them. This was a throne room, and there was a room off to the side. Two big ones by the throne, a slightly shorter one in between them. Thirteen scattered around the room. Starting with the big ones two shots to drop them. The one in front of the crude throne began to chant, face covered and wearing what appeared to be robes, energy channeling at the end of his staff.

Quickly shooting it once in center mass, it violently recoiled before letting out what appeared to be a bolt of fire, nearly connecting with him.

High priority target. He aimed and shot at the weakly standing creature; two more bolts hit it, dropping it.

Looking at the rest of the goblins which resided within, he expertly took them out, none of the shots remaining wasted. Sixty-seven down. If there are any more, I'll have to make do with the five shots. He told himself as one foot moved after the other, carefully advancing to the side room, preparing to kill more of these creatures.

Lowering his blaster, he saw no hostiles…

The Kaminoans created him to be one of the best soldiers in the Grand Army of the Republic. They ensured that he would be faster, stronger, smarter than his more common brethren. They donned onto him with the best armor they could create, armed him with the best weapons they could provide. They taught him with the best tutors they could afford.

The Cuy'val Dar imparted to him the skills of his trade. They showed to him what they learned from their travels. Their experiences, their mistakes explained so that he may learn from them. Their culture shared with him, so that he may have something to aspire to be. They beat him down and built him back up.

The Killing House put those lessons to the test. Comradery was encouraged. Quick wits and quick hand made the difference between success and failure. Adaptability was key, and taking no action was death. This taught him how to fight.

Geonosis taught him the most important less of them all. No matter how genetically perfect you were, no matter how much your shiny armor or how effective your weapons, no matter how skilled your teachers or how accurate the simulations were, nothing could truly prepare for the horrors that stars had.

And what he witnessed left a new scar on him.

Before him were women, seven of them held captive in the darkness. All of them were forced bare, the only thing to clothe them were but shreds of what they once wore. In one corner, two had expired, their bodies tortured, their bones broken. In the opposite corner, remained three huddled covered in wounds and other signs of abuse, their heads hung low. The remaining two lay in the middle of that room splayed out with no regard of their being, their eyes unblinking and their bodies unmoving, covered in the vile filth of their captors, as if his entry had interrupted them from enjoying themselves. The only signs of their continued life were the slow rising and falling of their chests

He hadn't thought much about how there seemed only to be males in this den, for he presumed that in such a tribal lifestyle the women would stay away from the fighting, but this was…

Then violently snapping him out of his shock, the sound of movement caught his attention. Raising his blaster, he slowly approached the throne. Upon kicking the throne out of the way, he saw it, causing him to lower his blaster again.

Ten children, all at different stages. They lacked many of the defining features of their fathers, ears not pointed out, nose not protruded, their eyes lacking the distinctive shapes. The eldest of them looked almost like a full goblin, features nearly entirely defined, and the only one that was not cowering away, rock in hand.

There were many options presented to him. However, armed with the knowledge of what would happen if left to their own devices; he made his choice.

Raising his blaster, he did what needed to be done.

… …

What is taking him so long? Fencer Squire thought idly as she sat right outside the cave, doing her best to be aware of her surroundings. Exhaustion was aching her mind, pain throbbed through her body, and her legs no longer wished to respond to her commands. I hope he is alright.

It had been less than half an hour since the unknown knight had entered the cave. When this stranger in silvery armor had entered the cave alone, she could not deny she felt a degree of concern for his safety, since four adventurers had entered and only one barely made it out alive The threat within had been a lot worse than the guild or the employer had made it out to be.

Soon she heard something which piqued her interest. It sounded like a footstep no… footsteps from within the cave.

Did he fail? Fear and anxiety gripped her chest. The footsteps got closer and closer with each step. Taking a deep breath, she slowly leaned to the right, and peaked into the cave, and although the near pitchblack conditions made it almost impossible to see, one could easily see the enchantment of his helmet.

The easily identifiable 'T' of his visor drew near, and before long, he was standing right before her. He was also not alone, her eyes widening once she realized the company he was with.

Five women, two of which were seemingly unable to walk on their own and having needed to be carried by him. They were wearing almost nothing, only tattered rags and freshly applied bandages cloaking their scarred and wounded bodies.

"The cave has been cleared of hostiles." His head tilted down to her. "Can you walk?"

"I can try." The raven haired adventurer attempted to get up, only to slowly slide back down against the cave entrance wall. "Did you find Rhea Sorcerer?"

He nodded, albeit with solemn silence. He did not need to say more for her to know her fate.

Her hazel eyes giving him a once over, she could see the amount of blood on him.

"Is that…" She began only for him to shake his head.

"It's not my blood." He answered, looking up as if he was thinking.

"I need to get them to the road immediately." Setting the women to the ground, he pulled out something sheathed on his right leg. "Since you cannot walk, use this to defend yourself."

Her gloved hand reached for whatever he wished to give her. It was a strange 'L' shaped item, the same color as his spell caster, but smaller.

"Keep it pointed forward, and if something is a threat, pull the trigger here." He instructed. "Do not use it unless you are in danger."

"I'll be back as soon as possible. Try to stay awake." With an exhausted nod, she put it on her leg, and watched as he walked away, leaving her alone once again.

Alone with her thoughts.

Her thoughts first wandered to the outcome of this mission without the timely intervention of this individual. She would have undoubtedly died from blood loss if he had not administered aid to her at that very instance. True, he had his motives for rescuing her, however this did not change her gratitude.

The junior adventurer then thought about how her decisions nearly got her killed. She underestimated her foe, not believing them to be much of a threat at all. They had left her battered, bruised, and half-dead, standing over her as she could no longer fend them off. She shuttered at the thought of her final moments being a plaything for those horrid beasts.

Suddenly her weary eyes pricked with tears, and she could not help but let out a strained sob. It had been a horrid day, knowing that because of their lack of caution and readiness, it had almost been a party wipe. They would've become just another group of unknown adventurers who met their end.

Then her mind wandered to members of her family. They would've never known what happened to her, or worse, they would've found out the fate she suffered.

Now's… not the time. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she tried to calm down. She couldn't let the stress get to her while she was still out in the wilderness.

She looked up towards the sky, to see the early dawn sun peer through the branches and trees high above. She could not enjoy the moment of natural beauty as the sound of branches rustling caused her to snap out her idle stare.

As quickly as she could manage, she lifted up the thing she had been given towards the direction of the sound. Her exhausted arms were doing their best to keep it still, but she could not keep them from shaking. If there was danger, this was as ready as she was going to be.

Soon enough, it would prove that there was no danger at all. The bloodstained armor of the stranger peered through the trees. Lowering the spell caster, she could feel the corners of her mouth move slightly.

"I thought you would be asleep by now." The grass rustled as he approached her spot.

"After what happened tonight… I don't think I'll be getting real sleep anytime soon." She answered honestly, lifting up his spell caster back to him. "Though without your help, I wouldn't be able to see another sun rise… so thank you Sir Knight."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" He made his way beside her, taking it from her and sheathing it.

"Are you not a Sir Knight?" She asked before yawning.

"I am not referred to as a 'Sir Knight' in my home." She was caught completely off guard as she was lifted, finding herself in his arms, one hand on her back, another supporting her legs. She found her hands cuffed together, resting on her half-plate.

"I am surprised that it is so." Her face once again flush with a hue of rosiness, she looked away from him, asking another question. "Are you in the service of any Lords or Kings?"

"I serve the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic." He replied, looking forward. "Commissioned to fight for the Republic and against the tyranny of the Separatists."

"In service to the Republic…never heard of it before." She voiced aloud. Her hazel eyes focused on his helmet, trying to catch a glimpse of her savior through the blue mist. A knight called upon by the leader of his nation to fight against traitors. "Then you are a Sir Knight."

"If you believe so." He responded impassively, before asking her a question. "And what do they call you?"

"They call me Fencer Squire." She told him.

He stopped moving, looking down at her. "That is not a name, more like a title."

"It's how naming works around here." She told him, a mighty yawn escaping her. "Our real names are… sacred… only for family and close friend and depending on how… intimate you are with a person, it could be seen as a proposal."

After what she assumed to be contemplation, he continued to move. "Strange, there must be a lot of Farmers and Traders."

"There are, but you get used to it." She let out a weary giggle.

"I see, my… home does things differently." He continued to walk, the shrubbery doing little to stop his pace. "But if names work like that here, then I am 'Republic Commando' or 'Commando'."

"Republic Commando…" She tried it out. "Its… got a ring to it." She closed her eyes, making herself comfortable. "But I still think… that Sir Knight… suit you… better."

… …

RC-2105 walked a bit further before realizing she had fallen asleep. He couldn't be surprised, it must've been a long night now, especially if her entire team had been killed.

Fencer Squire. He repeated the title of the young lady he carried.

He couldn't help but compare her to one of the eccentric Jedi Padawans he met long ago back on Geonosis. He remembered the face so vividly, how could he not after that hell? They wore robes that he could tell were that of a jedi, and only later he would've learned they were that of a padawan, and their facial features were bit angular and with hair longer than anything he had previously imagined.

I wonder if she became a Jedi Knight. He very well knew that there was a chance that she might've met an untimely end in this bloody war where Padawans ranging from teens to early adulthood were regarded as his superiors. Probably best to not think about it.

He continued to walk towards where he had set up a temporary camp for the survivors of that deathtrap called a goblins nest. Laying her up against a tree, he took care not to wake her from her stupor, although he was certain she would be out cold for a majority of the day, perhaps even longer.

Once that had been dealt with, he used this moment of respite to reload his DC-17m. Taking out the empty cartridge, a small hiss emerged from the blaster, a tiny bit of excess gas pushing out foreign contaminants. Saving the cartridge out of habit's sake, he put in a new one in, the number on the blaster rising to sixty. He was annoyed that he had to use the remaining cartridge, but it was in the defense of others, so it wasn't much of a waste.

Soon after, he set down his blaster and reached into his belt pocket, pulling out the three tags he had found. Another day gone by and I still breathe. To him they had little meaning, other than the all too common loss of life that the galaxy was so fond of.

Looking to his right now, he saw the women that had been in the cave were huddled close together, their eyes devoid of emotion.

The commando was not entirely sure what he should do. Clones themselves were not prone to experiencing common mental traumas, for their creators knew they would be put to their limits across the galaxy, and the non-clone assets who he worked alongside were just as hardy, their traumas dulled by their drive and resolve for change.

But these were not clones bred for the worst theaters of war. These were not trained militants broken down and reforged in the crucibles of war. They were civilians most likely, removed from their homes and their livelihoods for purposes he would wish to never speak about.

Looking at them, he noticed how frail they looked, he didn't know how long they had been trapped in there. There wasn't much he could do for the two which were in a state of .Too long was the immediate conclusion he came to. They must be starving.

Unslinging his bag, he rummaged through the medical supplies pack in for sanitary wipes, and once found, he used to wipe off the filth and viscera on his palms. Once done, he tossed the used wipe to the side, taking out three ration bars, he opened them and slowly approached them, crouching in front of them with the ration bars in his outreached hand.

"It's food." He simply told them. "Bland, but it'll keep your strength up."

The most responsive of the three took the three from his hand, a thank you, with a voice as scratchy as one would expect from a captive. With a nod, he stood back to full height, slinging his survival pack onto his back, he found a stump he decided to rest on it in this moment of solace, head on a swivel on the watch for the possible chance of hostiles. This did not stop his thoughts on the world he found himself stranded on.

For starters, this world perplexed him. For the past five days, he had only seen lifeforms of the human variety and passive fauna, and only on this night did he make first contact with a different variety of natives of this planet.

From what he had gathered so far, they were as numerous as the droids and their cruelty knowing no equal, perhaps only equaled to the savagery of the Trandoshans in his experience. He couldn't help but wonder the many captives that suffered the fate that those two had in those caves? How long have these disgusting creatures been given the privilege of living?

There was also that matter of this 'Adventurers Guild'. Members of the Cuy'val Dar had talked about their experiences with the various guilds and various employers. During their employ to the Kaminoans during his training, his tutors ensured that he knew the risks in their profession, how many guilds hired experienced men and women from across the galaxy.

It raised some concerns to him that they were sending the inexperienced and kids to what could be described as a fate worse than death.

He sighed, his fingers tapping on the flat top of the blaster. That is a problem that their Guild must deal with. I shouldn't get involved. His eyes landed on the sleeping lady, Fencer Squire. He should get the information he needed and move on. That is what he should do. It was the correct thing to do in his position. However, after what he witnessed, would simply packing up and leaving benefit anyone?

The sun continued to rise upwards, the chirping of birds signalling that it was now early morning. It wasn't too long before a cart made itself known on the road. Noticing said cart, he waved it down as it approached. Stopping alongside the road, the driver looked down from where he sat.

The wheat stalk that was in the Farmer's mouth bobbed as his head moved. Underneath the straw hat he wore was his graying hair with a receding hairline. '05 could tell that the blood and viscera on him had not gone unnoticed. "Why, er, hello there."

He was pleasantly surprised to see that Basic seemed to be the local tongue.

"I need to get these people into town." He looked at the Farmer. "They need… treatment and somewhere to stay."

"Ah you must be 'venturers." Suspicion changed to indifference, peeking past him. "Guessing a goblins nest?"

"This happen often?"

"One feller round these parts usually handles them, sometimes asks to borrow a cart if he thinks a nest is going to have many captives." He nodded, "Strange that one is, but a good lad."

"I see."

The old man let out a hearty laugh. "Says that a lot too!" Once done, he looked back to his cart. "Me'thinks enough space for everyone… might be a bit tight."

"I can walk if need be." He told him. "Town shouldn't be more than an hour away."

"I 'uppose so, gonna need help with getting them on the cart?"

"If you wish to help, you're free to do so."

And so the two helped the women get onto the back of the cart, starting with those who were catatonic, then those who could function ever so slightly, and finally the young lady who was fortunate enough to not suffer the fate the others had.

"Say." The man climbed up onto the front of the cart, his hands on the reins now. "The armor is foreign no? You from the east?"

"The east?" The commando began to move alongside the cart.

"Yeah, I hear its vast deserts and armor is as reflective as glass they produce."

"No, I am from the Republic." He stated.

"Never 'eard of it." He shrugged. "Whats it like?"

"The Republic, it's a collection of… smaller states." He tried to word his words carefully. "Each state is on a small island and trade is conducted by ship."

His presence and interacting with natives was already a violation of Republic protocol, last thing he wished to do was unwittingly make the feudal planet aware of a greater galaxy.

The man didn't say much but he nodded. "So you a soldier then?"

"Yes. In the service of the Supreme Chancellor."

"A knight then." He gave him a polite bow. "I was once a soldier in my lords army a decade back."

'05 listened to the man as he spoke.

"I joined up to fight against the Demon Lords armies that plundered the countryside, and it was fairly good pay for the risk." He readjusted the wheat-stalk that hung from his mouth. "It all ended when the Sword Maiden and her party brought his head back on a pike."

Understanding that the Demon Lord was some type of belligerent force, he nodded, deciding to ask about it. "And who was the Demon Lord?"

"A lot of speculation about it. Some say he was a monster from another realm, another thought he was a prayer turned non-prayer attempting to attain the ultimate favor of his vile God." The old man continued to look forward. "With an army of demons, he attacked prayers all across the continent, and worst is there is word that cults of his are resurfacing."

He took a moment to think about that. Gods? Prayers and non-prayers? It's unlikely for there to be actual divine intervention here… but if this 'Demon Lord' has died and returned, it could be possibly a form of cloning technology? After another moment of pondering, he decided that speculation would get him nowhere.

"When we get into town, can you direct me to the Adventurers Guild?"

"Shouldn't be too hard to miss, but first we gotta drop off the wounded at the temple." He closed his eyes as he thought. "It's gonna be the building with all the motley people with many different types of arms and armament. You can't miss it."

First we drop off the wounded at the temple. He thought as he continued alongside the cart. Then the Guild is where I go next.

… …

The receptionist with hair that bordered blonde sat at the desk completely prepared for her usual workday. The potion drawer had been completely restocked, new membership paperwork prepared, ink vial refilled, and several quills on standby in the odd chance of poor writers and those who are too forceful with them.

She worried about the group of four she had allowed to leave the prior day. It was a Sapphire Quest requesting for the extermination of goblins. A party of two Obsidians and two Steel Ranked adventurers that tried to take it on, the same gusto as many parties long dead. It was clear to her that they were hoping for easy profits.

The parchment was in her hands, and all she had to do was deny them and move on, but she got caught up once again in reciting the many rules and by-laws of the guild. But then the recent up and coming adventurer swooped in and moved the party ranking from Steel to Sapphire.

At that point, she was barred from doing anything else, except write down that they had taken the quest. They had left talking about their plans when they returned, which could only leave her to assume that they had planned on going to the nest straight away.

It was unfortunate that their local specialist was bogged down with so many quests.

More goblins are bad. The stoic adventurer had told her while showing her a bundle of six goblin slaying quests. I will deal with them. He told her three days ago after coming back from four days doing twice as many quests. Even with Goblin Slayer taking twice the amount of goblin quests he normally does; it still wasn't enough. On today's bulletin, three goblin quests had been posted, a lot of them porcelain ranked.

More adventurers continued to flood in, waiting in the guild hall's dining area, chatting amongst themselves, hoping to get the best pick of quests.

"Psst." The Inspector that sat at the desk next to hers got her attention. "It's almost time."

She nodded to the Inspector; her golden eyes focused on the Quest Posters finalizing the postings on the bulletin board. After a moment past, they walked away from the board and gave her the nod before retreating into the back room.

"The quests have been posted!" She announced to the crowd of adventurers.

"Alright!" The adventurers cheer. The mob with some semblance of an order made its way to the bulletin board.

Between the excitement and organized chaos that was the mass of adventurers charging the bulletin board, she caught a glimpse of the door opening.

Although she hoped it to be the man with the red plume she was disappointed to see it was not.

In fact this was a new face to her, a new face to grace the guild hall.

Well, not face but helmet per se.

The doors of solid oak parted and revealed to them all was a man in the strangest armor to be seen.

First, this individual was huge. He towered over most of the adventurers at the board currently. He was not as tall as Heavy Warrior, but most certainly around the same height, maybe slightly taller than the blue-armored Spearman.

It looked like the entire set was painted white or plated silver, with what she could only assume to be an enchantment of sorts to make the faceguard light up with such a hue of blue.

As unique as an armor set that it was, it was quite clear that this particular individual had been recently cleaned up. Dripping with water, she could notice a few crevices with dried blood in them, and the dirt surrounding his boots.

He seemingly paid no mind to all the other adventurers that crowded around the board, his path preplanned, straight to the counter.

Her eyes nervously followed him as he drew closer, adventurers parting as he walked, his footsteps creaking the wood. Once reaching the counter, he looked down at her.

"Is this the Adventurers Guild?" His voice seemed clear as day even though he was wearing a fully enclosed helmet.

"Y-yes it is." She entered her professional mode as her eyes looked for a tag of their guild, caught slightly off guard by the clarity of his voice. "How may I help you?"

She saw him open one of his belt pouches, reaching in for something. From her peripherals, she could see her hopeless suitor in the blue eye of the stranger, sizing him up. Most eyes were on the bulletin, but some noticed him. Few whispers could be heard, but not enough to overpower the sounds of excited adventurers for the quests they have picked.

"I am here to deliver." His voice monotoned while his arm moved towards the counter. Soon his right hand extended forward. She noticed a blade in the plate of the knuckle, but that mattered not when the contents in his hands were put down on the counter, the all too familiar clink, adventurer tags.

Two Obsidian, One Steel. Two of them were crusted with blood, whereas the other one smelt burnt, singed by fire was her best guess. She did not have to touch them as the mysterious stranger had placed it down so that the information was facing upward.

After a quick read, she knew that these tags belonged to two of the four-party members she approved the day prior.

With a sigh, she looked at the man with such pristine armor. "And the other members of the party?"

"The other one is at the temple." He replied, no elevation in emotion or tone. Did he sound… bored? Perhaps tired from the night prior? "The threat was neutralized."

"The Guild thanks you for retrieving these tags." She gave him a bow. "Are you a member of one of our associate Guilds in another town or perhaps a different part of the continent?"

"No." He flatly stated. "I'm from far away."

"Since that is the case." She used a cloth to move the adventurer tags from her desk. "We will just have to wait for testimony from the… surviving member of the party to confirm that you did aid them in completing that mission. That report will then be filed and payment will be awarded."

Although she had many years of experience attempting to decipher the nuances of body language, the way his head turned to the bulletin did not surprise her. There were many things of interest from the slaying of large reptiles of a flying variety to the easiest (in terms of survivability) of slaying sewer rats.

He seemed to be fixated on a certain few quests bulletin, and upon trailing where she believed his eyes were staring, she could tell he was focused on the goblin quests. Three of them had been posted since the day before, and none seemed to take them. His next line would begin her worries. "If one wished to take quests, would I need membership as well?"

"You would need to be a member of the Adventurers Guild." She nodded her anxiety slowly on the rise. She didn't like how he was eyeing those quests.

"And the rules of membership?" He asked, his head turning back to focus on her.

She proceeded to explain the rules of membership, the bare bones of the rules for now for the line behind him was starting to get longer.

"So I would be an independent contractor?"

"That is the simplest way to put it." She affirmed, looking at where she believed his eyes to be. "You are only bound by the contracts you take and the guild bylaws, and if you fail or leave without completing them, you forfeit pay and may be subject to Guild punishment." The contented façade did not leave her face. "You may be a part of the Guild for as long as you wish, only needing to fill out the proper paperwork to retire."

After a tense moment of what she believed to be contemplation, the visor of his helmet looked back at her.

"I will join this Adventurers Guild." He decided, practically declaring. With a nervous smile, she handed him a quill and piece of parchment.

"Can you read and write?"

"I can read and write basic." He gave a simple nod.

"Very well. Once you complete your form, please bring it back here." She pointed him to a free table. "Next Adventurer!"

… …

RC-2105 began to fill out the paperwork needed to join the Adventurers Guild. As he filled out the many questions, he still found it amazing that everything was in perfect Galactic Basic.

Filling in each column to the best of his ability, he soon realizes that nearly the entire piece of parchment is filled with his writing.

The republic commando listed everything he had learned in the simulations as his qualifications, in primitive terms. He looked at the parchment, a list of skills that covered up most of the page. The Clone Wars made him well versed for many situations.

Being an independent contractor for this guild while awaiting rescue could be a good way to pass the time. He would be able to freely travel around without the issue of being seen as a possible threat, and he would be able to earn some money, which means he will be able to purchase the goods he will need to fund his tinkering.

The last thing he needed to fill in was his name.

What to choose... The commando thought to himself, looking down at the empty query. He knew he could simply put in "RC-2105" and be done with it, but he remembered the naming conventions. If I wish to fit in, maybe... Soon after the sounds of the quill making contact with the paper, the query was filled.

With a satisfied nod after rereading everything he had written, he maneuvered to the desk, noticing that there were significantly fewer 'adventurers' present. Upon presenting the parchment to the Guild Girl, her brows furrow over some of the things he has written.

"It says here on the parchment that you are an twelve-year-old human?" Although her head was tilted down, her eyes were angled up to look at him, skeptical of the information.

"I will have you know that lying on registration forms may result in immediate rejection of any and all future attempts to join up with this guild location." Looking to her partner, she nodded before turning back to him. "Now is the information on this sheet correct? Are you an eleven-year-old human?"

His helmet had picked up her co-workers movement, and the tactical data readout informing 'non-threat'.

"I am currently twelve." He confirmed with a simple and practiced nod. "Twelve and a half technically, but I am no older than thirteen."

The woman that sat next to the guild's primary receptionist had her eyes closed, and her hand lightly on a necklace. Her eyes shot open and she looked to her co-worker.

The receptionist looked over to her co-worker, whose mouth was agape.

"By the power vested in me by the Supreme God, what he said was… truth."

Her once professional facade nearly unraveled as she heard the age. "You're that young? We can't allow an twelve-year-old to join up with the guild!"

"Is there an age minimum?" The Commando made no change to his posture or his tone of voice.

"There is…" She pulled up a book onto the counter, which stated 'Guild Rules and By-Laws'. Bringing the book up to the higher counter, she pointed at the line of text. "Under a relatively new provision in the Guild's history, all who wish to join as a full member must be at least fifteen years of age."

"Also," The co-worker beside her lifted up a finger to add. "Anyone younger who wishes to join must be sponsored by a senior adventurer."

"I see…" He put his hand up to his chin whilst reading the provisions. "I am twelve years old since my birth, but biologically I am no older than twenty-four."

"And how does that work?" The receptionist with seniority asked, raising her brow.

"Accelerated aging." He plainly stated.

Looking back to her partner, she nodded.

"Once more, what he has said was the truth,"

"Are you certain he is not using some form of sorcery to mess with us?"

"Are you suggesting that my miracles can be deceived?" She raised her brow. "I had already checked for magical energies and found none."

"Either way, you cannot join due to age requirements."

"By technically, I can." He turned the book back to her, a lower provision mentioning a few exceptions under the 'magical mishaps'. "Accelerated aging would most likely fall under this section, which does talk about factors that play roles in a members registration."

"Well yes but…" She put up her balled hand to her mouth, thinking of a way to counter the very loose and open-ended. "These provisions are moreso for adventurers that are already that age, like getting petrified as a stone statue for decades, or emerging from a different plane of existence after an extended period of time."

"I did come from a plane, not of this world."

Her partner looked to him, raising her brow. Leaning over to her she whispered something to her superior. A sigh emerged from her and she nodded.

"Fine, fine." She put her hands up in defeat. Grabbing the quill from the inkwell, she finalized the papers, before signing the bottommost line. Grabbing two different stamps deftly with a single hand, he noticed one was of regular ink, and another had a faint shimmer. The ink stamp officiated the Guild's membership whereas the shimmering one stamped on his information on the white tag. "Since you have articulated your point to get around our Guild By-laws… Congratulations, you are now Porcelain Rank."

Her face looked unamused and held the aura of 'This will be reported to a higher authority.'

"What does 'Porcelain Rank' entail?"

"These ranks show what skill level you are at, and what jobs you are allowed to take." She recollected herself. "There are ten ranks from lowest to highest: Porcelain, Obsidian, Steel, Sapphire, Emerald, Ruby, Bronze, Silver, Gold, and Platinum. You're likely to only see Silvers and those of lower rank in the field."

"Good to know." He took the tag, putting it in one of his belt pockets. "And it acts as identification in the chance that I fall in battle?"

"That is correct. These tags are nigh impossible to destroy so long as they do not leave the individual they are attuned to." She tried her best to smile while saying that sentence. "Now you are free to take quests."

Looking right back where he looked before, it turned out no one took a single goblin-slaying quest. Primarily due to the paltry pay of the combined pay not even amounting to twenty-five gold pieces.

Her façade was completely shattered as she expressed the utmost dismay while he picked out each one, he put them down on the desk, his monotone voice not even hinting at any emotion. "These are all Porcelain Rank. I will do them alone."

Many of the adventurers looked at him now, their eyes intrigued by the actions of his. Some whispers began to circulate about this man. Some thought him a holy warrior, others thought him a fool.

The Guild Girls' hair now a slight mess, frazzled from the stress that has seemingly overcome her so early in the day, she turned to the inspector. "I'm taking my break now." She scooted out of her chair and walked away, into the backrooms.

"Let us see here." With a deep sigh, another receptionist took her place, pulling out a map. "These three quests happen… here… here… and here!" She tried to give a reassuring smile, but it came out drooping.

"Relatively close to one another." He stated before he turned around and began to make his way to his targets.

He could hear the brown-haired receptionist call out after him. "Good luck Cataphract Errant!"

... ...

Truth saw that there were new masters who took over their game since their departure. Many new masters had sprouted from their disappearance, but there were only three masters that garnered their attention.

There was the one that called himself 'The Father', who was an arbiter and maintainer of balance in this game. Truth and Illusion understood the need for balance, though both knew proper adventures couldn't be made if he balanced everything!

Illusion loved talking to the one who called herself 'The Daughter', after all she only wished well for all in the world they built. Truth cared not for her, for she did not share the same love for turmoil and change as he did.

Truth however found pleasant company speaking to the one known as 'The Son', how they shared similar views on how their pawns could only grow through their suffering. Illusion was unnerved by his presence to no end, why did growth always have to stem from suffering?

The two of them looked at the pawns on the board, oh how many pawns did they see. What caught their attention however was that The Daughter and The Son both constantly bickered and vied for the attention of a single champion, so that he would carry out their will.

"The Chosen One" they called him.

A quaint name much like the "The Hero".

How The Father had his hand's full balancing the game when both of his children fought over him.

Illusion could not help herself but check on their new pawn's closest brothers, and found it hard to find them, after all, he had three million brothers, and another two million on the way!

She could not help but feel sad when she had learned of their pain, no matter how hard they tried to hide it, how they mourned the loss of their brother.

Perhaps she would need to speak with the new masters of this game and see what they could do…

Together.


Here are the first of the revised versions!

If you're new, you're free to continue reading, although it's bound to change a bit.

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Until next time!

Moonlight Talon of the Night!