09-22-2015, 06:23 PM
The day was overcast, and a chill autumn wind was breezing leisurely through the area. It was Santaruz, just inside the border. Ambrose, though his hood was up, kept an eye out for others on the road. Traveling with two others, both of whom would be prizes for the Church of the Preservation of Sanctity, kept him alert to the presence of anyone, though the striking beauty of the Lycian countryside in autumn was very distracting. Leaves were changing from brightest green to yellow, and orange, and red in an enchanting, swaying mosaic of beautiful colors. Still, they were approaching a village, and needed to not get caught off their guard.
His companions, or more likely, wards, went by the names Paige and Shad. Paige was a bookworm, and her job in Castle Pherae had been the upkeep and organization of the library. It was thanks to her diligence that Ambrose now had a name for his ultimate target: the emperor of Lycia and conqueror of Etruria. Speaking of which, his other companion, Shad Hyperion, was a native aristocrat of the latter nation, and a fugitive, furthermore.
Both of them were about half his age, and while they all seemed to get along quite well, it was heavily apparent that he knew more about traveling than either of them, though Shad had some hard-won experience with the roads. They came to rely on the older man. It was a strange feeling for Ambrose, who'd never found someone to love and make a family with, to suddenly be counted upon for their survival at no cost to them. Then again, he was used to being a mercenary, rather than a public-minded assassin, so his perplexity made a modicum of sense.
As the village and its houses came into view, he had to suppress first a growl and then a sigh. It was crawling with Lycian soldiers, at least a regiment, and as they got closer, he saw that all of them bore the seal of the Church.
"Hoods up. Word of our escape hasn't yet reached here, but it doesn't hurt to be careful," Ambrose whispered tersely. He kept his cloak pulled closed, and his sword's hilt never left his hand's grasp.
His companions, or more likely, wards, went by the names Paige and Shad. Paige was a bookworm, and her job in Castle Pherae had been the upkeep and organization of the library. It was thanks to her diligence that Ambrose now had a name for his ultimate target: the emperor of Lycia and conqueror of Etruria. Speaking of which, his other companion, Shad Hyperion, was a native aristocrat of the latter nation, and a fugitive, furthermore.
Both of them were about half his age, and while they all seemed to get along quite well, it was heavily apparent that he knew more about traveling than either of them, though Shad had some hard-won experience with the roads. They came to rely on the older man. It was a strange feeling for Ambrose, who'd never found someone to love and make a family with, to suddenly be counted upon for their survival at no cost to them. Then again, he was used to being a mercenary, rather than a public-minded assassin, so his perplexity made a modicum of sense.
As the village and its houses came into view, he had to suppress first a growl and then a sigh. It was crawling with Lycian soldiers, at least a regiment, and as they got closer, he saw that all of them bore the seal of the Church.
"Hoods up. Word of our escape hasn't yet reached here, but it doesn't hurt to be careful," Ambrose whispered tersely. He kept his cloak pulled closed, and his sword's hilt never left his hand's grasp.
Thank you Destin, for the awesome mug of Ambrose.