A/N: My attempt to make british accents and slangs be printed into words have resulted in a failure of huge proportions.... my supposed british citizens now sound like country bumbkins.... they sound drunk and completely American. No offence to Americans, but i'm trying to get British.

The Judge

She pulled her cloak tighter around her small frame, preventing the wind from carrying it off. Looking down at the many lights of the small town, she smiled. Soon. Soon she would reach her goal. Down in this town, there is someone whom she would require to go any further in her plans. It would seem odd why such a person would end up in this place, but she guessed anything goes these days.

She pulled out the small pendant that dangled around her neck. A small grey key. It was so small it could slip through any door knob, but it was a momento of her family. And it was the key to her final goal. She gripped it tightly in with her gloved hand, holding it close to her. She will not fail this task.

"... Mother. Wait for me."

She jumped down the cliff, and headed into town.

Heaving a sigh, she sat down in the chair, placing her flintwork pistol onto the table. Some eyes in the tavern shifted her way, but she paid them no mind, and they soon shifted back to whatever they were doing. She placed her long sword down, resting against the table. But she didn't place her weapons far from her reach. In this sort of place one could never be too cautious. No, instead, it would be suicide to have your weapons any further than three centimetres away from your trigger finger. A serving wench came up to her table and placed a mug of foaming beer. She didn't ask for it, but it was something that the bartender knew what to give her. That was all she ordered, after all.

"No new jobs, hon?"

The serving wench raised an eyebrow. She didn't want to talk about it, so reached into her leather pouch that dangled by her belt, and tossed a coin to the serving wench, who caught it easily.

"Alright, i'll leave ya to ya own things."

Good. That was the way she wanted things to be this time round. But the serving wench was right, and had to stick it to her face. Jobs, mainly bounty hunting, was the main life blood of this place. A town of bounty hunters who would take up any bounty. However, it was also the home of people who would take up the more lucrative and 'darker' side of hunting. Namely assassinations. In this place, law was in the hands of every person who steps into this town. There were no guards, no prison, no justice. Justice is what you make of it.

But it wasn't always like that, or so she heard. This town used to be more gentle, with lush grass and fields. Well no more. At least it's better than Bloodstone. She had been there a couple of times, and found herself puking into street gutters more often than she should. Back to her situation, if she doesn't get a job soon enough, she would have a hard time paying rent. And she didn't even know who she was paying it too.

A mysterious stranger wearing a black cloak would just appear at her door once a month and collect rent. That stranger never said a word, just picks up the gold and leaves. But everyone seemed to know what he, or she, was at their doorstep for. Strange, now that she thought of it. She placed the mug to her lips, and let the bitter liquid flow down her throat. A good way to drown her sorrows and despair. Maybe it was better for her to switch jobs.

She had helped the local blacksmith before, that was how she got her sword, so she was sure she could ask him again. He was getting old anyway. Good time to retire and let her take over. Though the thought of working every single day with hot coals and anvils didn't really strike her as the sort of lifestyle she was hoping to live. She had a sort of life within her that didn't take too well to just settling down and sitting still. She almost had the chance to take the last bounty against a pack of Balverines, but that sniveling bastard had to snatch it from her.

That thought left a bad taste at the back of her mouth, so she picked up her mug and drained it in one go. Slamming her mug onto the table with considerable force, the bartender, and some of the other patrons for that matter, knew she was in a foul mood. The same serving wench came up to her table and placed another mug of the foaming gold. Just as she was about to put her lips to the mug, the doors of the tavern opened, and a cloaked figure stepped inside.

Everyone reached for their weapon, but when the stranger did nothing but stand and stare at the patrons, everyone settled down. Now it wasn't the sense of being weary that filled the people of this tavern, but rather the eyes of hunger. A client most likely. She eyed the stranger from the corner of her eye, slowly drinking her beer. The stranger walked over to the bartender, and had some sort of talk that she couldn't hear all too well. Then, the bartender pointed in her direction, and the stranger looked her way. Somehow or rather, she had a rather bad feeling about this. And sure enough, the stranger walked up to her table. Her finger inched towards her pistol, and the stranger seemed to notice.

"... I mean you no harm."

She felt surprised by the voice. A woman, and young at that too.

"I suppose my appearance does say that i look more musculine than feminine."

The stranger pulled back her hood, letting down her long chestnut brown hair. Her face was young, that was for sure, no older than 18 years of age. Well, not that she could say much for herself. She was barely hitting 20. The stranger seemed to have a strange aura about her, one that she couldn't quite put a finger on.

"I hear you're the best hunter in this town."

A job, figures. Well, as long as it pays, she would be fine with it. She eyed the woman a moment. Her cloak, though black, was clearly made from some sort of strange material. It had to be some expensive material.

"... Why don't you take a seat first?"

She pointed to the empty chair across the table. The strange looked at the chair, as though studying it for the moment, before turning back to her.

"If possible, i would like to discuss something with you... in private."

A lucrative job by the sounds of it. She was never a fan of those, but she needed the cash. She eyed the stranger, unsure of what to think, before draining her mug and grabbing her weapons.

"Alright... follow me."

She grabbed a few coins from her pouch and dropped them onto the table, before she pulled led the stranger out of the tavern and into the stormy night. The two walked in silence towards the far end of town, where a small house sat by itself. She took out a key and unlocked the door, stepping inside and feeling better to be out of the storm. The stranger followed in step and once inside the house, took off her hood once more.

She closed the door, and took off her short sleeved coat, throwing it onto the chair by the fire place. The stranger's cloak, however, seemed to remain relatively dry. That material must be real special. She stood by the fire, stokking the flames and drying herself with the heat.

"So, what is this job?"

The stranger stood by the fire as well, staring straight into her eyes, as though studying her intently. She didn't like that, this girl's stares felt like bullets boring holes into her.

"... This may be a long job, and the pay is... well, it may not exist at all."

Now that really got her attention. She felt her irritation soar with that as well.

"Look, i don't have time for free requests. We don't run a charity here. I don't know what you expected, but in this town, no gold means no job. Get me?"

Surely this girl must have known that before coming here, right? Irritated that she had no new job, she walked over to the bed that sat in the same room. She was too poor to afford one of those two storey buildings, so settled with this. The bed wasn't all that comfortable either. Throwing herself onto the bed, she felt like screaming at herself for being this gullible.

"You know where is the door."

But still, the girl wouldn't move. She could sense the girl still standing by the fire.

"... You are the Judge. And therefore you can, and you will help me."

Okay, now this girl was getting arrogant. She sat up on her bed, glaring at the girl, but stopped. The girl's skin was now lined with glowing blue lines. There was something different about this girl now, and she felt something she never thought she would feel at this moment. Fear. She reached for her pistol, but before she could even touch it, a gunshot rang out, and her pistol flew further away. She turned to the girl, who had drawn her own pistol. It was an expensive looking pistol. No doubt a master grade, judging from the intricate designs. And it was a flintwork pistol as well.

"I do not wish to harm you, however, if you do not comply, i must use methods i do not want to."

"... Fine. Doesn't look like i have choice, do i?"

The girl smiled, holsting her pistol, and the blue lines slowly faded away.

"I am on a journey to revive someone who will save us all."

"Huh? Save us? From who?"

"... From something that none of us can ever hope to defeat."

The girl sat down in the chair by the fireplace, and turning to face her who still sat up right on the bed. It was all so complicating and weird for her. And just what in the Albion did she get herself into? A job that doesn't pay, a girl who is beyond human, and now she was forced to listen? This girl's story didn't make much sense in the beginning , and she was sure it wasn't going to make any sense any later.

"How much do you know about Albion itself?"

The girl asked. Like she thought, didn't make sense.

"Like?"

"Hmm... what do you know about who rules Ablion?"

"Everyone knows that. The council of representatives."

"And who set them up?"

"... That.... wasn't it the last ruler?"

"And who was that?"

She felt like being played a fool. She didn't know that much, so she shrugged. The girl only sighed, shaking her head slowly. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know, she just didn't bother with history that much.

"Alright.... The last ruler of Albion was a Hero. The Hero of Bowerstone to be exact. After defeating Lucien Fairfax nearly two hundred years ago, the Hero decided to change Albion, and ruled it well to maintain peace and order. But something happened, and the Hero organized a council to decide the fate of the towns. Each town have their representative chosen by the people of that town, and so it would seem fair. Soon, the Hero disappeared from sight, never to be seen in public."

"And... you're going to revive this Hero?"

The girl smiled sweetly. Imagine what sort of wolf's teeth hide behind that smile.

"Exactly. However, it isn't going to be easy. We need to gather different people who possess the right capabilities and conditions. They are essential to 'unlocking' the final seal to the Hero's resting place."

"But isn't that Hero... dead? It's been two hundred years already."

"No, oh dear me no.... that Hero is still very much alive, i assure you. Merely sleeping, that's all."

"And how can you be so sure?"

"Because i do."

The girl simply answered, not saying anything much after.

"... Alright, fine, let's say i do join you on your merry run, and after we gather all of these 'capable' people, and awake your Hero, what 'evil' are we suppose to fight?"

The girl turned to the fire, watching the wood crackle and ambers flare. Her bright blue eyes seem to hold an eternal darkness, and that frightened her somewhat.

"... There were many evils in this World. More than a thousand years ago, a Hero defeated the legendary 'Jack of Blades'. This evil is still very much alive. And the Hero of Bowerstone has many enemies who have returned from their graves as well."

"Woah woah, slow down... evil from many years ago? Now that is just dumb."

"No, it isn't.... don't you remember? That night... the night which made you what you are today?"

Those words shot through her like a bullet. How... how did this girl know? That night. It was an unforgettable night. Fires, death, screams, cries. The bodies of her parents, of her brother. And that single figure who stood amongst the flames and death, laughing maniacally. That one man who killed her family and the entire village. The scar on her back burned with the memory as though it was still fresh.

"Yes, that man who massacred the entire village in Brightwood. That man.... is the new Jack of Blades."

"Jack... of... Blades...."

"Don't think of hunting him yourself. He is an evil that is far too powerful for you to handle on your own."

"And you think your Hero can?"

The girl nodded her head in reply.

"The Hero of Bowerstone is the descendent of the Hero of Oakvale, the one who originally killed Jack of Blades not once, but twice. This Jack of Blades is bound by evil magic, and therefore the only one able to kill him would be one who has the bloodline of the Hero of Oakvale."

"Doesn't the Hero of Bowerstone have any descendents?"

".... Yes. But time has diluted much of their powers. Still, it is possible for them to hurt Jack, though it would be foolish to try to finish him if you stand alone."

She knew she didn't have much choice now. This girl has baited her well. Her whole reason for being a bounty hunter was to search for the one who killed her family. And now she knew. Now she had a lead. Everything that she had been working so hard for was now paying off. If she didn't grab this chance, another may not come.

"Alright, i'll do it. No need for pay. Letting me see this bastard pay is more that enough as payment."

"Good... We need to move soon. Time is short."

"Where to?"

"The Hero's guild."

"... The what?"

The girl raised an eyebrow at her, before sighing. It wasn't her fault she didn't know.

"The Hero's Guild. A place where Heroes gather and train."

"But... i've never heard of such a place."

"True, it was burned down many years ago, before the Hero of Bowerstone was even born. But it still stands. And that is where we shall go.... Come Judge, we have much to do."

"My name isn't Judge. It's Ashe... why do you keep calling me that?"

The girl did not reply, but rather walked up to her, pulling out a card. It had an intricate design on one end which she did not recognize, and the other was a blank white face. The girl passed it to her, and the moment she touched the card, the blank white face began to have some colour and drawings on it. The picture depicted a blind woman with a sword in one hand, and a scale in the other.

"That card shows you what you are, or what you will become. You are the one who stands by justice, who judges the evil and sin of all. You are the Judge."

She stared at the card for awhile, feeling its picture drawing her in. She shook herself free from its mesmerizing stare, looking back at the girl.

"Why me? If you were looking for a good hunter, there are plenty around."

"If you're wondering about what i asked the bartender, i simply asked for the one who calls herself the 'Avenger'. That is what you call yourself, isn't it?"

"But-"

"All will be explained back at the guild. Now, let's go."

The girl turned to go, but she wasn't done with questions. She still had many, and she wanted them to be answered now, not later at some place that was supposed to be burned down and then forgotten about. And first of all, there was one very important question that needs to be answered now.

"Wait!... i don't even know who you are."

The girl paused, and did not even bother to face her, but somehow she had a feeling that the girl was smiling.

"Me? I am the one who has ties and unfinished business with the Hero of Bowerstone. I am the one who would gather all against the impending tide of darkness. My card-"

She took out another card that already had a drawing on it, depicting a single figure walking ahead of many others.

"-tells of one who would lead all others. But i am no leader, no. I am the one who calls upon the powers that hold this World together. I am one of the nine guardians. The Seeker. But... you can call me Robin."

A/N: I was thinking of a name that would be like Sparrow's.... so Robin.... but isn't that the name of a monk in Oakfield? Bah, whatever.