It has been several hours since I left Marlow, seeing only the mountain peaks over the trees whenever I looked back. I felt a sense of nostalgia walking along this path made by people, wagons and animals. It reminded me of the dirt and gravel roads I sometimes drove on back home before I came here. I began humming along to an old song and couldn't help but feel sad that I would probably start to forget these things.
I suppose I could write them down, but it would never be the same as actually hearing them as they were written. Thoughts drifting from the music to the axe I held in my hand I wondered if it would actually work as a weapon. A tool made for chopping didn't exactly fill me with confidence in his battle capabilities. Though I figured I could make up for it awkwardness with my strength and speed.
That was something I was confident in. Both easily eclipsing what I was capable of back on earth even without bolstering it with power. Even carrying this pack and axe for several hours at a brisk walk with no breaks and I hadn't even broken a sweat. To be fair the air was still chilled by wind that brought down the cold mountain air, but that was slowly changing with each foot of distance I traveled away.
The rest of the day passed with little trouble, only stopping when the sun was at its highest to eat a short lunch before continuing on. I wasn't sure the exact distance of Valden from Marlow, only that traders had said it took them a week by wago pulled by horses or lizard mana beasts.
As the sun fell and I started thinking about setting up camp for the night I noticed that there was some smoke rising into the sky ahead of me. Straining my ears I could hear the smallest bit of chatter, but not enough to make out what was being said.
I took care to approach quietly as I didn't know what to expect from this group. As I got closer the conversations filled my ears. Talks of past adventures, coming from an older man that wore a robe. He had a short but scruffy white beard and almost no hair on his head, but his face was flush with cheerfulness.
Their camp was made up of 3 wagons pulled by 2 horses each that were now grazing on the grass while leashed to tree branches. The wagons were parked in a half circle towards the path, likely to protect them and their fire from the winds. The trees from the forest opposite the road acting as another wall for their makeshift shelter.
Their were 8 people sat around the fire eating from bowls that one of them dished out of a pot from above the fire. A 9th was sitting atop one of the wagons with a bow placed across their lap, arrow placed and ready, as she scanned the surroundings.
At one point I thought she might have seen me as her eyes seemed to look directly into my own for the briefest of moments. However she was already looking elsewhere before that worry could take hold. I looked back to the people around the fire and something seemed different.
They all seemed to still be conversing, with the old man leading the story as he had, but now it felt like none were really listening to it. The hair on my neck stood on end, and I could see that none of them were holding their bowls anymore. The relaxed mood from before was replaced by tension and when I looked back for the archer they were gone.
Worry filled my being at the possibility of being found out, so I took a cautious step back. The near silence of my position was instantly broken by the snap of a thick limb. The crack louder in my ears than any alarm had ever been. I cursed myself as I gripped my axe, preparing for the sound of an arrow being shot at my exposed back. However it never came and when I looked back up I saw why.
While my hearing had been overtaken by the pounding of my heart and rushing of my blood, I had missed the fact that the people in front of me were now locked into a battle with a pack of wolves. Four of the people that had been sitting around the fire were now taking cover in one of the wagons, armed with clubs.
Surprisingly the old robed man and the 4 other people were facing off against the pack of a dozen wolves. A man with a mace and shield stood at the front of the group, he was flanked by a female spear wielder on his left side. In the back was the old man and the archer, another younger man wearing robes similar to the old man made up the last one.
They had impeccable teamwork, the spearwoman sliding back and forth behind the front guy, jabbing out at the wolves that tried to get him from the side. The archer keeping the excess at bay that tried to make their way to the back line, and I wasn't sure what the robed guys were doing until saw a blade of water shoot out from in front of the old man.
From the younger man a wall of rock rose to about his knees and formed into sharp spikes that he shot out. Though it didn't have the same accuracy that the old man's spell was. I took all of this in but the only thing that I was thinking about was how cool the magic was. It took me back to shows and movies I had seen growing up of powerful wizards and mages casting spells with wands and staffs. It had me wondering if there were evil dark lords with hordes of orcs and goblins at their control or evil wizards trying to kill a child that has a lightning bolt shaped— alright maybe that was a little too specific, but I couldn't help the hole my thoughts went down when watching this.
Focusing back on the fight it was obvious they were making easy of the wolves, but in the frenzy of the battle they didn't notice one was stalking its way towards the wagon that housed the 4 that were hiding. I wanted to call out to them, but I worried at distracting them and getting them injured. So I did the only thing I could think of, shrugging off my pack and running as fast as I could with the axe in my hands.
I decided this was likely equally as distracting as 2 of the 5 combatants turned towards me with bulging eyes. Which now that I thought about it it probably was pretty shocking to see a 6 foot tall wall of muscle running as fast as I was with an axe toward their non fighters. It was strange how though how clearly I could think now that I was heading into the fray, before my mind almost felt foggy in comparison to how it does now.
"Wolf!" I yelled pointing towards the wagon and the old man along with archer both turned, but before they could even fire a spell or loose an arrow the loud crash of metal slamming into wood froze them. Splinters and blood flew everywhere as they saw the head of the massive wolf separate from its body at the shoulders. Above my massive woodcutters axe was buried into the frame of the wagon.
When I made it to the wagon and yanked my weapon free I turned to see the old man and archer still staring at me.
"I'll protect these people, just help your friends." I said taking what I hoped was a combat ready position. Really it felt more like I was back in baseball playing days when fielding. A slight bend at the knees and my body squared towards the battle as I held my axe in both hands at a diagonal angle ready to swing. The two of them eventually nodded their heads and turned back around helping the other mage and their two frontline fighters.
The battle ended soon after that and they all turned towards me. They still had their weapons in their hands but I didn't feel the same tension as before. More like curiosity and surprise at seeing someone bigger than their mace/shield user when I didn't even have the heavy armor that he did.
"Just who are you, son?" The old robed man finally asked with a wry grin.
"Uh, Steel. My name is Steel, I'm from Marlow." I said before thinking, realizing that i probably should have used an alias since I was on the run from a Mayor of that very town.
"Ahh you must be old Haron's son, though I could have sworn his oldest son's name was Mountain." He said thoughtfully as he scratched at his beard.
"Steel? Mountain? Just what kind of silly names are these? They are obviously fake names meant to deceive you Mr. Lach." The younger mage said from beside him only to receive a bonk on the head from spear woman. Now that I was closer I could see that she was older as well, not as old as Mr. Lach seemed to be but at least in her 40s. The rest seemed fairly young, around my age, besides the young mage he seemed to be barely over 18.
"Watch you mouth Greg. If you offend our giant friend here, none of us are going stop him from showing you why they are named like that." She hissed in his ear as she pushed him towards the campfire with instructions of keeping it going.
"Apologies, Steel. Young Greg there is new and fresh from the magic school in Etistin, it's no Xyrus Academy but he's reliable in battle." Lach said and I just shook my head.
"It doesn't bother me, ignorance is not the same as cruelty." His eyes widened and I realized if he knew my father he likely expected me to be of low intelligence as well.
"Well you're certainly well spoken for one of Haron's children. Not that it's any of my business but what's got you out here on the road? I haven't heard of any of your family leaving Marlow since the war with the elves." Lach asked with seemingly genuine concern.
"It's a bit of a long story." I sighed. Following them to sit around the fire, graciously accepting the bowl of food offered to me by one of the wagoneers. I didn't know why but Mr. Lach gave off the impression of someone I could trust. After they introduced themselves: Lach the water mage, Greg the earth mage, Piper the spearwoman, Willa the archer and last but not least Elias the mace wielder. I began recounting my story to them, but I noticed something while talking to them.
I could feel and even see if I looked close enough that each of the 5 of them had power. It made me wonder if they could see that I had awakened my core as well.