The Beginnings

„That was a year ago now. Ever since that day Sprohm got attacked I became somewhat of a street ear, even more than the pub employees. So, just in case you need info, remember the name: Ina Nora Felicia Ogal, short INFO."

Panht just nodded and walked on. Some random woman from the slums had just retold him the events of the past year. As if he didn't know. He just came from his hometown Cyril which had been attacked three times during the past six months by three independently operating parties and he fought in every defence. That's where the young human received a scar in his left eyebrow after a Bangaa's spear grazed him as he tried to evade the dragoon's jump.

All in all, though, Panht didn't look that much like a fighter. His dark brown hair was kempt upwards, he had a short full beard and didn't have many defined muscles. The Cyril native had previously worked for a weapon shop and had fighting training with a small Clan from time to time. Now he was going out of town for his first mission.

It was an easy mission to be honest, picking Muscmaloi in the Giza Plains. Normally the local nomads did this job themselves but even they can't off the monsters… and that's where adventurers and Clans came into the game. Twice a year during the Muscmaloi bloom monsters were excessively ferocious and the nomads and the pharmacy of Cyril used fighters to clear out the monsters.

Panht saw a message posted in the pub that everyone travelling to Giza Plains should meet up a few kilometres outside of Cyril. The reason was the road to Giza wasn't safe. It was one of the few roads that weren't controlled either by the Palace, the Clans or the nobles. Bandits ravaged this way regularly, on rare occasion's people died on the otherwise calm journey towards the home of the nomads. A group of adventurers and pharmacists wanted to group together, safety in numbers.

All the while he walked through the slums towards the rendezvous point people were looking at him. Every kid looked up at him with a glint in their eyes, admiring his appearance. Clearly they had heard the stories and legends of a fighter's life, starting with the Hero Gaol leading to the Clans of today. The adults, though, had mixed reactions. Some had the same look as the kids. Old and young adults alike admired him and his bravery. Some women were even giving him food for his travels. A few people gave him glances from inside their houses and called their kids back inside. A formidable part, though, shot him glances filled with disgust and anger, some even spitting in his direction. They were making adventurers and Clans responsible for their situation, having to leave their homes and living in miserable conditions in the slums of Cyril. They didn't care that an oppressive system had been thrown down, they had a stable life and it was ended by a Clan.

He didn't care for the people who disliked him because of his lifestyle. He didn't look down upon people because of the lifestyle they chose and he expected others to do the same. That people looked up to him gave him reassurance that he was doing the right thing in these difficult times. He remembered the days when he was a young kid in the street seeing a Clan walk by. The look the kids had in their eyes were in Panht's eyes years ago. The resentment of the other people Panht used as fuel. As fuel to prove them wrong, that what he was trying to do, the life he was trying to lead was right and serving a good purpose.

In front of everything stood one dream of his he had been having for half a year. Reuniting his home country, bringing stability back and uniting the people under one flag they can call home, not follow a leader who promises them unity under him. He wants unity but under a competent leadership that acts on the good for the people. With the nobles that was not possible and the Clans cannot rule a country, some can't even control the people in their own ranks. The only people who could actually do it were the city councils and the Palace. Even with its bad reputation the Palace was missed by many in these days. Although strict, they had had control over the country, it was stable and relatively safe.

Panht reached the edge of the city and looked back one last time. This was the first time in his life he would be going out of Cyril and would not know when he would come back if he would even come back ever. Standing there, looking at his hometown, committing every single detail of it to his memory, the hume realized that what he was about to do can only be the start of something big.


"… five, six, seven, eight. We're missing one."

A small Moogle looked up at the person doing the headcount. The pharmacist was looking at a list in his hand, a checkmark beside each name but one. The last time the Moogle checked in the pharmacy there were only eight people who had responded to the bill. Around the pharmacist were a Seeq a few years younger than the Moogle himself, an old Nu Mou lady and a group of five consisting of one Moogle, one Bangaa, one Hume, one Nu Mou and one Viera. Those five, though, looked pretty tough and he wouldn't expect them to do the 'lowly' work of picking Muscmaloi in Giza.

The group was extraordinarily different from the rest of them. The Moogle thought that they were somehow familiar despite him never having met any of them before. They appeared to have known each other for some years in advance and have fought some big battles before. Also the group looked like they wanted to stay between themselves. The only one that had talked to the pharmacist was the Moogle, probably their leader. He was also the only one that he got the name from. He was called Leland, a Black Mage who said that he has fought for years already although he couldn't be much older than the smaller Moogle himself. But at the question what he and his group did all those years he only answered "… just some small stuff here and there, nothing of note. We're regulars at the Herb Picking bill."

The Seeq was more talkative. His name was Jerik and was a Berserker. He only just started fighting and saw this as an opportunity to learn something. It was no secret that this mission had been a favourite amongst beginners for decades. One could very well see that Jerik was quite new. He wore a simple leather vest and leather gloves which looked fresh off the shelf. It was obvious to everyone that he was excited but also inexperienced in combat. Someone would have to look out for him.

The Nu Mou was an experienced Beastmaster by the name of Ettina. She had told the small Moogle that she worked at the Monster Bank and was previously journeying around the country. She had a plethora of instruments with her and also a White Staff. She also wore a White Robe as she was trying to learn some White Magic. She seemed experienced, not as much as the introverted group, but she most probably knew what to do and when, plus a Beastmaster could actually be of help keeping the monsters manageable for the rookie.

Right at that thought Amu turned around and saw a young Hume walk up to their group. On first sight Amu recognized his gear as that of a Fighter, an advanced job, despite that he seemed not yet proven in battle. He looked to be proud, clearly a rookie as well. From afar Amu couldn't tell what he was proud of but the Moogle made a mental note to himself to talk to him later down the road.