Pathwalker - RP

[Dragonium]

The Western Lands have grown quiet of late.

People used to fear the Western Lands. They were a place where nobody had ventured before. All the maps, even the most accurate, showed blank space where there was clearly a vast continent. The eye could see nothing of the land. There had supposedly been sightings of people, but these were only rumours. Nobody went in or out. For centuries it was shrouded in mystery.

And then one evening, creatures arrived from the west. They were beasts which no eye had ever seen. Dark, winged things, some said. Most who set eye on them were killed, many more cut down as they fled. Several innocents were captured and taken away. And then, as quickly as they had come, the creatures left, flying away to the west.

All accounts of what had happened were destroyed, and the public were told that nothing serious had happened, that a group of bandits had started a fight. The cover-up was perfect. Nobody suspected a thing, and the Inas Kingdom, the largest royal power in the world, was calm once again.

But where there is ignorance, there grows curiousity.

And eventually the King of Inas decided that he could wait no longer for answers from his prophets and researchers and astrologers. He used his power and his influence to create a contest; the Pathwalker Contest.

The rules were simple: the bravest men and women in the Kingdom who volunteered to take part would be taken to the Western Lands. There, they would have however long was necessary to explore the continent and produce a map. Whoever's map showed the most detail would be the winner. The prize was simple; the King, in person, would present the winner with the one item which they desired. It was a lucrative contest indeed.

But many people feared the mystery of the Western Lands. It was anyone's guess as to who would apply.

~~~~~

The last RP died because it only appealed to a few people. But every community needs a few good RPs, so let's make an effort to get this underway. The usual rules apply. No Godmode, fantasy/medieval setting. Good grammar would be nice, as it cleans up the thread. Grammar is its own reward. All fantasy races (Human, Elf, Dwarf, Drow etc.) are allowed. Anyone can join, so hop on the bandwagon.

EDIT: Just to specify in more detail, the setting means no "modern" or futuristic weapons are available. Which means no firearms, lasers etc. However, technology that could still be called "medieval" is in - so crossbows are okay, firearms aren't. Sorry.

~~~~~

Name: Alziel
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Height: 5'11
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Bandit
Personality: Mature, usually calm, works well to support a team.
Weapons/Gear: Uses a longbow primarily, and carries a shortsword and shield for close range work. Wears leather and cloth armour for movement.
Appearance: Long brown hair and green eyes. Appears youthful, but also has an air of experience. Clothing is mostly brown or green. Carries his longbow over his right shoulder, with his sword and shield on his belt.
Bio: As a child, Alziel was an outsider, shunned for his habit of offending or hurting the feelings of others. While most people would have grown sad at this understanding, Alziel accepted it as another part of his personality. His main outlet for any feelings he had would be to go into the forest near his home and explore, learning to recognise the signs of nature. Soon finding that his attitude tended to isolated him from friends and family, he joined the Wood Hawks, a small group of travelling bandits. The group gained notoriety in the Inas Kingdom, and when a number of people were killed by a mysterious number of winged creatures, it was covered up, and the blame was laid on the Wood Hawks. Alziel continued to live as part of the group; these were his friends now, who accepted him, and he knew that he did not need anyone else.

~~~~~

A breeze blew through Ganam.

This breeze found its way everywhere; into the cloaks of the merchants, into every open door and window, around every corner and down every chimney. As it came to a main street which was now deserted, since trade had finished for the evening, it rustled a fine piece of parchment attached to the wall by a nail.

Two men surveyed this parchment. After a second's reading, both men decided that it was the same advertisement that they had seen in the previous three towns. Alziel turned to his companion, who stayed hidden in the shadow of the building.

"They're advertising it well, aren't they", Alziel muttered. "Soon every fool'll be wanting to join in. All this for a map of some continent that nobody ever goes to".

The other man licked his lips. "I like the sound of that prize, though", he said. "Just think, anything at all. We could get rich. We could all live happily without ever needing to steal or hunt or kill ever again".

"You're right, Leyland", Alziel replied, laying a hand on the other man's shoulder. With his free hand he pulled his hood down further. Both men were hooded similarly. "But that's not what I'm thinking".

Alziel paused, letting old bitterness seethe again.

"We never killed anyone, did we? But the Kingdom said we did, and now we can't come into town at all. Everyone hates us".

He paused, as the forbidden words came.

"I think we should enter that contest".

Leyland recoiled. "You know that place is evil", he spat. "No good'll come of going over there. Draw up a map. That's all. Do you really think the King will give whatever you want, just for drawing a map? No, there's more to it than that. I can tell these things".

He stopped. Both men were quiet.

"And anyway", Leyland added, "It says to register at the King's castle. I doubt we'd get within a mile of that place without being aimed at. All the guards know us. We'd never be able to join".

"It's worth it", Alziel murmured. The breeze blew again. "If it stops people hating us, it's worth it".

Leyland was quiet as he studied Alziel's face.

"Alziel, we've known each other for six years. I don't doubt your determination. But I'll say two things. First, the poster says there are two days remaining, and you'll have to be fit and ready to go within that time. And second, it says only one person from each group is allowed to go to the Western Lands. Do you think you can do it on your own?"

"I can", Alziel said, "And I will".

"Two days", Leyland finished. "You'll need rest. Come on, we'll go back. Tomorrow we can get you ready. Maybe you can turn our lives around for us".

With those words, the two men turned and left the town.

[Moosetroop11]

An expensively dressed man walked jauntily along a worn forest path, a sack of rolled up papers over his shoulder. He seemed untroubled by the long shadows and sharp turns of the road.
"A pampered one" Shell whispered to the tiny tree frog in his hand. It looked up at him, almost curiously, and then dived into the deepest pocket in shell's ancient leather coat.
"You're looking for food again?" Shell sighed. "Well those crumbs are the last I have, friend. That is unless this fellow is as well off as he looks."

The rich looking man stopped for a second, and looked up at the steep rock face beside him. Seeing nothing, he continued along the path..
And Shell chose that moment to spring down from his hiding place within the rock and strike the man over the head. One hit was all that was needed, Shell's worn staff knocking the unfortunate unconsious. Checking for a pulse and finding one, Shell then seized the man's travel bag, and opened it.

Nothing.

Shell cried out in disappointment. The man must have been forewarned about muggers to have not brought a single unit of gold. "Where are you lady, when I need your luck the most?" He screamed at the overcast skies.
The wind rustled the trees above angrily and the sack with the papers spilled it's contents, a rolled up parchment coming to rest at Shell's filthy boot. After looking at it for a second, he picked it up and read it. The frog hopped from his pocket and nto his sholder to get a look at this new object.
"I see" He mused. "So I must work for a living now? Well I trust in your judgement, my lady."

And following the directions given on the parchment, he began to make his way towards the castle of the king.

***

Shell

Race: either human or half human, his mother was never sure of the father. Possibly half elvish
Gender: Male
Age: about thirty
Weapons: Currently, an old wooden staff which may have been embued with magical protection, for it is incredibly strong. Shell dislikes killing, although he has done it before, and prefers to knock his opponents unconsious.

History: Not much of historical note has happened in Shell's past, but the story of his life would still make an entertaining read. At a young age his poor mother sold him to sailing merchants, where he worked hard and was treated poorly. However the ship was attacked by pirates and he became a slave of the powerful captain. During this time he learned to fight from other slave boys, and he also found a tiny tree frog, which hopped aboard the boat whilst it was docking next to a tropical port. It has remained with him since, outliving normal frogs which has given Shell reason to believe that there is something enchanted about it.
Years later his ownership changed again as the pirate ship was sunk by one of the kings ships and Shell was rescued. For a time Shell was in the employment of the king as a squire, but his life has taught him nothing but dishonesty and he began to steal. He was thrown into jail. Upon being released from this jail he left the city and has been doing odd jobs and mugging ever since.
Shell believes that there is a force known as the lady of luck who aids him in making his decisions.

[Drace]

Name: Bowen
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Height: 5'10
Race: Human
Class: Ranger
Personality: Slightly inmature, energetic, slightly bloodlustic and chaotic at times.
Chaotic Neutral; Believes in balance between good and evil but slightly turns more to the evil side.
Weapons/Gear: Has a shortbow and a two-handed sword. Wears mostly leather and a mail shoulderpad on the right shoulder and mail around his left arm.
Appearance: Halflong brown hair which barely reaches the shoulders. Has brown eyes. Aging is notable, but not by much. Has brown clothes with metal on the mail parts. Carries his shortbow to his right side and quiver to his left. Has his two-handed sword sword attached to his back with leather, easy to holster in and out.
Bio: [Not added, pieces of Bowen's life and past will be given throughout the RP.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'The castle, the glorious castle. The home of our king, our lord. Bah, how I hate this place,' Bowen mumbles. 'Ah well, I want that damn quest to be mine. I want that damn reward.'

Up ahead, down the road Bowen is walking, is the entrance of the courtyard. Five guards around the main gate, probably more in the guardhouse.

'So many guards, the king must be expecting trouble to come towards this quest. Not like that wasn't expected. Everyone would want that reward, the most vile scum of the outbacks of this kingdom will be coming here for the quest.'

Down the road, pasting the old market area. Silence. A raven's call in the tree nearby, an old cart and horse in the nearby distance. As he nearers the main gate, the sound of the clinging of the armor of the guards can be heard. Their voices, their coughs and sneezes. A quick look around, the area is like a ghost town. No human in the area. People are afraid, afraid of the customers the quest draws. They don't dare to stay outside anymore for all too long. The people it draws... mercenaries, bandits, crooks, murderers and perhaps worse. The silence of a town like this is dreadfull, painfull almost. Just a few more steps, just a few more yards, almost there, just need to keep walking on.

[Dragonium]

Alziel stayed in the ditch.

He was lucky to have found this here, out of sight of the guards and not far from the entrance of the castle. Leyland had known where it was, and had said his goodbyes a few hundred yards ago, before retiring to the cover of the trees. Alziel had been handed his bow, arrows, sword, shield, provisions... He was as equipped as he needed to be.

He had drawn maps before. A large empty continent like the Western Lands would be no problem.

A man in armour carrying a large sword walked by on the road towards the castle. This man would be one of the competitors. It appeared that he could fight, but whether he could draw up a decent map would be anyone's guess.

There was another speck on the horizon, on the same road. There was only a short time left, and the number of competitors would surely pick up soon enough.

Seeing an opportunity to blend in with the armoured man, Alziel stepped out of the ditch and into the road. Most people knew who the Wood Hawks were and what they looked like, but Alziel could hope that this man would not recognise him.

Perhaps he would be lucky today.

Alziel too began walking down the road towards the castle.

[Drace]

Silence, on the road. But wait, what's that? Something moving? Footsteps? Ah who cares. It doesn't matter. Bowen nearers the guards, lets a cough loose to let them know he's coming and stops when a guard approaches him.

'What's your business here, sir?' the guard questions him. A sharp look into his eyes followed by a friendly face.

'The quest. I'm here for the quest to the Western Lands.'

'Ah, yes. Follow me, sir.' The guard stands ease, turns around and walks towards the gate. Bowen follows him, staying around 5 yards behind the guard.

'Frederick, open the gate and escort Mr...'

'Bowen, just call me Bowen,' he interupts.

'Mr. Bowen. Escort Mr. Bowen to the main hall. Here's here for the quest. Come back when Mr. Bowen has entered the main hall.'

'Sure thing,' Frederick says. He's notably younger then the other guards, he must be new to the job too.

'Please step to the gate Mr. Bowen,' the first guard says.

Bowen steps through the gate and follows Frederick through the courtyard towards the main hall.

[Kinslayer]

--------------------------------
Name: Anyan Leddwick

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Height: 1.84 meters

Race: Human

Class: Knight

Personality: Cold, silent, careless, tends to remain quiet at battle. He believes in justice and punishments, and that, though you are not punished in this life you'll be punish in he afterlife. Although he believes that evil deeds must be punished and he must carry out a punishment upon those who put the balance to the evil side.

Weapons/Gear: A dark cloack, but has a light armor below, his sword, Leddwick's Viper, is a powerful, yet light edge, which is barnished in poison. He acknowledges a little bit about magic.

Appearance: Red, long hair and red eyes. Has a scar over the right eye, which is covered by his hair. Cold look. (check attachment)

Bio: He was born at the Inas Kingdom. At a very young age (20) he became a knight under the orders of the King. He and his father were sent to the Western Continent to find out about this dark creatures, but his father convinced the King to let Anyan stay. As his father did not return, Anyan tried to find out what really happened. Convinced that the King lied, and seeking revenge for his father, Anyan trained and became a strong knight. As he retired from the army at a very young age (22) he trained himself by traveling. Now he has returned to the Kingdom and will seek funds, and the adventure at the Western Continent is perfect for his wishes.
----------------------------------------------------------------------


Anyan passed through the gate, with a tired look on his face.
He walked slowly towards the Castle's Gate, as he saw a papire on the wall.

"So, it is true..." thought Anyan: "They are sending people to the West again..."

No one recognized Anyan. His scar, his cold looks, they were very different than what he used to be at the past. And he was happy about this, of course. He had cursed the King and the knights who follow him since his father's death. No one dared to tell him the truth.
Anyan had no money on his pocket, so he decided to go to the West.

He got near the guards at the Castle and said: "I want business. I'll go to the West".
A guard said: "Follow me" as he showed him the way to the Castle's Main Hall. Anyan knew the way perfectly, as the remains of his past memories assaulted him.
He saw more people gathering at the hall, there were plenty of them.
"At least I won't be fighting alone" thought Anyan.

"Wait here, the King himself will speak to all of you, when all the others arrive" said the guard, as he left.

[Moosetroop11]

Shell had noticed the towns he passed become larger and better kept on his way to the city, and the areas of countryside between them shorter. By the time he reached the city of the king, Regallis, the rising sun played across a sea of architecture, as if the towns had merged into one another and become a living, breathing animal, peppered with shanty huts below towering white stoned buildings. Here the rich lived, and the poor as well, each bustling about their buisiness as ants might gather about an anthill. 'The great city Regallis' was, after all, a home for the ignorant, as any other town.

Shell has cautiously approached the city by a side entrance, where the people busied themselves with their morning activities, but as he strolled towards the main roads the initially relentless noise began to diminish.
"Odd, this area is usually the busiest" Shell murmured, half to himself and half to the frog on his shoulder. "I wonder..."
A lone horse drawn cart clattered across the imaculately cobbled road and drew Shell's attention to the road leading to the castle, where a large gathering of people stood. As he walked briskly towards them he picked out Dwarves, humans, and even sprites, people from all over the country. All carried weapons; most looked rugged, dirty, some eyeing the competition with distaste and others sharpening their blades. "No wonder the townsfolk have kept clear" he remarked under his breath. "this lot would sell their mothers for a good meal."

[DeusExMachina]

Name: Montclair "Monty" Simonson
Age: 25
Race: Human mostly, but with notciably elven blood
Appearance

A slender man, average in height, with black hair, shoulder length, usually tied behind his head. Charismatic an agreeable in nature, mostly friendly and benevolent, but not without a capitalist streak

History: A native of the Kings capital, Monty has worked independantly as a mercenarie to the highest ranking nobles. No Job is below him, allthough some are better off contracted to more desperate competitors for a slight markup.
Profit driven, Monty sees him self as the perfect candidate for the posted mission. Family stories of the old times have always feuled Montys Curiosity about the west.

A recent job gone slightly bad has tainted montys rweputation among the more underhanded of the nobles. This is even more reason for monty to embark on some "Out of town work"

Monty rides a quarterhorse,Esquire, and keeps bags of misc. items and tools in saddlebags. Also Carries a light crossbow, ample bolts, a hatchet on his belt, and a Halbred-esque walking stick (with a machete like blade protruding from the upper stalk).

His clothes are bland and utilitarian. Under his travel robes, thick leather hide padding keeps him safe.

____________________________________

Whilst untieing his Horse from a bulletin post, monty couldnt help but notice the postings about the kings mission

"Holy lords, esquire. The registry date is already upon me. Time flies when youre avoiding, well....everybody"

Taking a glance around, and seeing the vagrants and un-desirables around the town this day:

"That would explain the out-of-towners as well. Id best Get myself registered soon, and take a looksy at the competition"

Mounting his Stted, Monty galloped down the road out of the town market, toward the castle. Fastening esquire to the posts outside the inner gates, monty noticed the bandit like entourage approaching the gates behind him.

"Seems my timing is good. Id hate to be stuck behind the likes of that"

Pulling his travel cloak over to hide his wepons on his belt from the confiscation-happy guards, monty approaches the younger guard at the door, a fellow he had met before on occasion. His older brother was a mercenary whom Monty had seen killed in action...this is something monty did not desire to bring up with the young guard, allthough the guard knew the story well.

Exchanging nods, the young guards counterpart, an older man, in the palace security uniform adresses monty

"Ahh.....its good to see a local hunter chasing this Bounty. I had hoped one would enroll."

"Thanks, cheif...good to have some support" Glancing over his shoulder at the gaggle behind him he returned his gaze to the older guard "Looks like one may need it, in a competition like this"

"Proceed to the main hall, Bounty Hunter...what was your name?"
Before Monty could answer, the younger guard spoke up

"His name is Monty. And he has no support from me..bounty hunters...if it werent for such a disreputable trade, much of my family would still be alive today. The contestants here make me wretch"

An akward moment of silence followed, and the older guard motioned for Monty to proceed inward, as he let out an uncomfortable murmur
"The other contestants are waiting in the Main Chambers....the King will be ready to make his address in due time"

Upon entry Monty couldnt help but think about how ignorant the young guard was for drawing such a conclusion before even seeking anothers perspective on his brothers death, but the discredited his criticism....."Death can make ones mind run askew....I must keep that in mind......."

Looking up at the Chambermaids Walking about the Palace, dirty thoughts crossed montys mind...."Death, and.....Ladies."

Monty knew as well as his peers did, that his main weakness was now, and always will be, the fairer sex.

Approaching the Chamber entrance, Monty thought out loud "Lets hope that the contest involves some variet of female contestants."


An with that, Monty resided near the exit of the Chambers, surveying the other entrants gathered about the Castle

[Dragonium]

Alziel stayed out of sight.

He had watched the steady train of people arriving, and it seemed to be ending. There had been quite a few entrants, but nowhere near as many as Alziel might have expected, given there was such a lucrative reward. Apparently some people still feared the Western Lands.

The cover-up of the winged creatures had been perfect, and nobody suspected a thing, but there was a frightful mystery about that empty land...

Alziel had to take his chances. He shouldered his quiver, the clacking of arrow shafts reassuring him, and stepped into the road.

The guards moved as soon as they saw him. There were two on gate duty, and another man behind them, who Alziel assumed to be their chief. He glowered as Alziel came near. The two guards raised their swords.

"No bandit scum is allowed within these walls", called the chief, "Especially murderers like you".

Alziel cursed quietly. The guards did recognise him after all.

"The assembly is closing. No more are permitted to go inside. Go home, bandit".

"And why should I do that", replied Alziel with a forced smirk, "When I could go away to a far-away land and get myself killed in style? Surely you'd rather I did, than stand out here accosting the three of you?"

The chief was silent. Then he nodded.

"I bet you a hundred Gold you don't last an hour before you get dragged back here half-dead", he spat. He laughed momentarily, but his joke was lost.

"Two hundred", Alziel replied jovially. The chief nodded and laughed. Then he gestured to the two guards.

"Let him in", he murmured, so that the watchman in the tower above would not hear him.

Alziel was allowed to pass. He wandered into the main hall where a large group of potential winners was gathered. Up ahead, at the helm of the room, was the throne which would be occupied by the King in a few minutes' time. He took to the shadows at the back of the throng and thought back to the guard chief.

That was one bet he hoped he would lose.

[Drace]

In one of the corners, on a bench, is Bowen. Staring at the floor in front of him. Not thinking or wanting to think. Just staring and waiting. Waiting for it all to happen, waiting for the quests that would chance his live. He didn't care for how many came to join him, after all, they were just nameless faces. One by one they gathered in the main hall, like he did before. Staring, and waiting. All there is to do now.

[Kinslayer]

Anyan stood at a wall, watching how the hall was getting full of mercenaries, mages and such. The King's arrival would be in short time.
Anyan stood and noticed a guard entering the room.

"Someone has to watch all of this scum..." whispered the guard.
Anyan approached him and said: "Watch your mouth here Klerr... someone might hear you..."

Klerr watched Anyan closely. "Oh my..." said Klerr, as he became pale.

"I remember you, and I know you remember me... You won't open your mouth to say my name, you know it will be the last thing you'll ever do, my 'friend'..." said Anyan.

"You're suppossed... You should be... dead..." said Klerr in a very low voice, as he walked away from Anyan. Surely he hoped that Anyan wouldn't pull any move inside the Castle. And he was right.

Still, Anyan smiled, as he had reached one objective: to let know an "old friend" that he wasn't dead, and was back.

[DeusExMachina]

After a short wait, and good stretch of people watching, Monty couldnt help but notice an odd interaction betyween two men about thirty paces away. One, with long red hair, stood talking to the other with his back turned.  The other, being a Guard, standing slightly beside the other, enough of his face visible to notice the general expression.
As the Red haired Knightly man whispered a few words in the Guard's Ear, the guard's face turned stak white, as if to have seen a ghost.

A slight change in position, let Monty have a glimpse at the Red Haired Knights Face, which had in it, a vengefull looking reddish eye, shifting coldly in the chamber light.The other eye, covered by a lock of red hair.

"He looks familiar...If I were at a bounty center, Id feel compelled to beseech the name behind that man." Monty thought to himself
"It could benifit me to try and ally with one such as him. He has in his eye, that One would not want as an enemy. The bounty will likely only go to one, if any, but it would benifit me to make allies, venturing into a land such as this."


With a nonchalant stretch, Monty stolled a bit closer to the red haired man, also scanning the room for anyone else that would be worthy of keeping note of.

"By the likes of the miscreints gathered here, One could fetch a fourtune in Headhunting alone....If the bounty for the Kings expidition were not so tempting...."Monty thought to himself....
"I wonder if there will be any kind of funding for equipment....I wonder, is there a bandit trying to rob my horse right now...not that he would have any luck...a steed as stubborn as that listens to only one.....God this is wasting my youth. Ill be grey haired before this king gets on with the formalities here"

Looking around once more, Monty sets eyes on a Ranger, with Shoulder Lenght Brown Hair, staring Blankly at the ground ahead of him....Monty wondered what thoughts, or lack of, would make a grown man stare so blankly at the ground for such a period of time....."Either a prodigy, or a mongoloid" Monty muttered to himself

[Moosetroop11]

(I assume we can have more than one character. I won't have more than two in any case.)

Gazing lazily at the rabble in the huge marble hall was a young, human sized sprite. Her pale pink hair fell delicately about her shoulders and a long dagger rested at her side. Not that she had much use for it, Liara mused, as she absent mindedly open and closed her hand, allowing small fire spells to dance across her  skin. She sat up and stretched her long insect like wings, concious of the quickly filling area. Soon there would be little room to move.
Finally, she stopped looking around and settled her eyes upon one individual. A fairly handsome man with a bow; he looked well travelled and able to take care of himself. The Sprite had no intention of braving the harsh uncharted lands on her own- not when her unageing beauty could secure her a travelling companion to do the work for her. She smiled and made her way fearlessly through the unruly crowds towards Alziel.

***

Liara

Race: Sprite, human sized (I don't know much about the actual definition of a sprite, it may even be an undead thing or whatever. I've always used them like faeries, very magical beings that come in many sizes but are all humanoids. They are gifted mages and can naturally fly.)
Age: 6
Gender: Female
Weapons: Dagger, also learned in fire, ice and thunder magic.
History: Sprites are born and grow to adulthood in a single year, and then do not age after that. They do not naturally die but can be killed by hand fairly easily because they do not heal as easily as humans and their cuts can bleed much longer. Therefore Liara, though 6, is mature if not experienced. She left her family and relished adventure, often having an easy ride due to her feminine charm. Her reasons for wanting to win the competition are unknown.

[Kinslayer]

Anyan noticed a a man with long, black hair tied up, who was standing closely to him. "Could him just overhead what I said to Klerr?" thought Anyan. "No, impossible, unless he's related to elves, but he does not seem like one... I must take care, though" thought Anyan, while he stared to the big courtyard through a window. It reminded him of old times, when he used to train with Klerr and others to become Knights of the King's Order. Only him had reached a position in the Order.

After waiting for a little while, Anyan stared at the crowd. He noticed a Ranger with an enormous sword. "Must be skilled, I guess. He looks to be focusing" though Anyan for himself, while closing his eyes and smiling a bit. As he was watching the crowd, he noticed a Sprite. He had forgotten the last time when he had stared to such beautiful being. As he stared to the Sprite, he said to himself "Delliah..."

(this is a flashback, just to be sure that there will be no confusion)

His girlfriend, Delliah, had perished after some bandits had ambushed both her and Anyan. Although he had defeated the fiends, both of them were badly wounded, especially Anyan. In order to save his life, Delliah (who was a powerful priestess) sacrificed her life to the gods to save him. Anyan rembered when he ripped one of the fiend's cloack, and he noticed a royal mark at the shoulder. And when Anyan watched the man's face, hew saw a familiar look. "Klerr..." he whispered at that time, while the man, scared to death, stabbed him chest, missing his heart by little.

(flashback's over, back to reality)

These memories, painful, terrible, always haunted Anyan. His eyes had gotten a sadful look, and when he noticed, Anyan decided to stop thionking about his past. "Tides will turn to my side in time..." he thought.

[DeusExMachina]

MOnty, out of his peripheral vision, noticed that he was Detected by the Red haired Knight.'If I dont introduce myself now, I will have a harder time doing so without hostility in the future"

Upon making eye contact, Monty gives a Coy smirk, and addressed Anyan....
"Not to worry, friend.....if the damsel isnt elven, or human, I am genuinely disinterested....but judging by your smitten look, a beauty such as that brings back to mind other beauties.

....thou wouldst seem to be a competent advesary....
Do not worry, I hear not your chat with the guard, allthough Im sure it was noteworthy. Im not, however, one to pry."Extending a Hand forward in gesture, monty continues"If one hopes to get at chance at the prize, one has to at least ally with the competition in the early stages......My name is Montclair, of this FIne Kingdom....Might I make your aquaintance, sir......."

Monty knows at this time, Anyan will become either friend or foe. (Allthough eventually, everyone in this room will become foe, if the prize is within reach)