AN: This takes place in a separate universe from the previous story, which will be known as the Twisted King Universe, the ones including the character Judger are known as the Journey Home Universe, and the ones with the character Brant are known as the Elemental Knight Universe. Hope this keeps things straight.

Judger wasn't a smart man, but he knew things. He knew how to cook game, which roots and wild herbs were good to eat or could be used to treat wounds, which critters were edible and which were better off to leave lay, he knew that elves were stuck up prissy bastards who lived in trees, and that dwarves were some of the most dependable folk to have at your back in a scrap, but the one thing Judger didn't know, was where in the hell he was at the moment. Last he remembered he was in a scrap against some blonde gal who'd put a knife to his gut, and now here he was sitting in the middle of an encampment of nomads, on a hide bedroll far away from anywhere he knew. He shook the sleep from himself and tried to think, his brow creasing and jaw tightening. After a bit, he realized thinking hurt. He felt a tap upon his shoulder, startling him. He looked to see who it was, only to see a young woman dressed in hides and beads, with olive skin and deep green eyes. Looking at her, he was reminded of someone, but whom he was reminded of was questionable. He looked at the girl intensely for a few moments, thoughts of a young slender elven girl decked in armor overtaking his mind. The girl's lips moved, as if saying something to him, but he heard nothing.

It was odd; the girl had tried to speak to him numerous times but each time he only heard silence. He could see the other people in the camp, moving around and chattering at one another, but he could not hear them. He heard the rattle of pots and pans and knives, the neighing of horses, the pounding of hammer to anvil, the beating of some shamanic drum, and the crackling of a fire, all of which bringing images back to his mind. The sound of the pots and pans banging together brought images of a worn old half-elf with a broken blade and a kindly smile, the neighing of the horses showing him the sight of a rotund dwarf with a hammer and a grin, the pounding of the hammer showed him a man and a woman, siblings perhaps? The man decked in layered armor and the woman, no, closer to a girl, was swathed in cloth dark like the night sky. The pounding of the drum brought thoughts of a man with feathered wings upon his back, and a thick book held under one arm. Finally, the crackling of the fire showed him someone who was neither man nor woman. He knew this one. He knew their name; it ran through his mind, "Ikraam". It repeated over and over as he thought of them, draped in satin cloth with a dagger sliding out of the sleeve, and a cheeky grin peeking out from behind an indigo veil, white hair sticking out everywhere on their head. As he thought of these people, he heard footsteps behind him, and finally, a voice. One he knew.

"Finally awake now sleepyhead?" The voice was slightly accented, as though they were unused to speaking the common language.

Judger looked back behind him to see many of the people the sounds had shown him. The armored man and his shadowed sister, the grinning dwarf, the elven girl, the feathered man, and Ikraam. As he took them all in, their names came rushing back to him like a burst dam. Oga, Benihime, Xil'cal, Olag, Layla, and finally, Ikraam.

"Well?" said Layla, "are you feeling better or not? We can't spend all day waiting for you to get better, Dral is waiting on us at the mountains yet."

Finding his voice finally, Judger spoke.

"Y-yeah guys. I'm fine, now let's get moving. I want us there before suppertime."

Inside, he smiled. Judger Jacklaw was not a smart man, but he knew things. He knew how to cook game, which roots and herbs were good for eating and curing ailments, which critters were edible and which were better to leave lay, he knew that Layla was short tempered and quick to strike you for stupidity, and that Olag was one of the finest people to have at your back for a scrap, and that Oga could drink like a demon and that Ikraam and Benihime would loot your wallet if you left them unchecked, he knew that Xil'Cal was smart as a whip with a tongue as sharp as a knife, but above all, Judger knew one thing, and that was that his friends were more valuable than troves of gold, and that he wouldn't trade them for anything bar none, because beyond being his friends, they were his family.