18 december (Chapter Three)Dawn, 19 December, 1250Rictor opened his eyes and sat up, taking the cape off him. Appollo and Desrade were fast asleep. He stood up and put the cape on before putting his feathered hat on.
Appollo was the next one to wake up, instantly followed by Desrade.
"Ahh, you're up, my dear man," Appollo said to Rictor, replacing the helm over his face before Rictor could observe it. "Let us warm up after awaking to be more alert in the forest. Wolves, we must look out for them. We must."
"Appollo," Desrade started. "Are you sure that wolves come out in the day? I have only seen them wandering at night. Are you certain that you are not suffering from paranoia?"
Appollo glared at Desrade from behind the slit in his helm. Rictor could not be bothered to listen to their arguement. Neither side was winning.
"Desrade, m'lord, wolves do come out in the day. We must be careful. However, if we set off now, we might not meet so many a wolf. Shall we?" He suggested, opening the door and letting a space for them to walk out.
"Certainly, mercenary." Desrade said, standing straight, replaced him helm, and walked out of the door, almost stepping on the long, tattered maroon cape. Appollo followed suit after swining the mace at the air in front of him and placing it back into its holder.
"You ought to be careful with that-
" Rictor started, but was cut off by the howl of a wolf. "We must hurry. The wolves are awakening." He jogged out and sat on the horse with Desrade. "Set it into a canter," Rictor instructed. Desrade tugged on the reins and the horse cantered. Shortly after, Appollo set his horse on canter.
They were galloping through the rich scene of trees when they heard chanting.
"Asahriae!" Appollo exclaimed, recognising the chant. "Outcasts they are...skilled too. We must be quick before they claim one of us."
Another howl of a wolf made them halt. Rictor dismounted the horse and held a hand out to the two knights, telling them not to dismount. "Thief, you may come out now. I see the highlight of your merciless sword." He said to the shadows in front of him.
"Elite...I have been paid...to protect the Darkranancer...get out of here now...I'm not alone...The Asahriae are hungry cannibals...get out while you can.." the voice of a man said.
"What is he talking about, Rictor?" Desrade questioned Rictor. "What did he mean by 'Elite'?"
"He," Rictor answered hesitantly. "Is the wolf of the Elite Thieves of Fragdor. That was what I meant by 'Wolves are abundant in this forest'." He quoted from his own words. "I was an Elite...one of them."
Appollo stifled a gasp.
"Get out of here. Now. Before the Asahriae claims you!" Rictor instructed the his employers. "You too," He said, turning to the 'Wolf'.
"No...I will stay here...and fufill my mission...even if io
t means that I have to die..." The 'Wolf' said before stepping out of the shadows. Desrade and Appollo were shocked.
The man was dressed in the same attire as Rictor, excluding the hat and the cape. He was also armed with the same weapons.
"Wulfwinge, I warn you. My rank is higher than that of yours." Rictor warned 'Wulfwinge' while unsheathing his blades almost silently.
"Try me...Rictor Lasente...Higher rank or not...you will die under my blade..." Wulfwinge said sternly to Rictor before drawing his own blades and pointing the scimitar at Appollo. "You too...You shall be claimed by the Asahriae..."
Before Appollo and Desrade could set their horses to a canter, blades had already started clashing. Rictor and Wulfwinge were fighting.
Blows were made and they were parried with similar presicion. Both minded their footwork. Rictor lunged at Wulfwinge with the scimitar, but Wulfwinge did not manage to parry the blow and the blade grazed his arm. He growled a growl similar to a wolf's, and threw the dagger at Rictor's forehead. Rictor ducked in time and the dagger got stuck in a tree behind him. Rictor took a big step forward and leapt at Wulfwinge, but Wulfwinge jumped out of the way. Like a wolf, he went on all fours and raised his hands that sevred as the paws of a wolf.
Wulfwinge leapt at Rictor, scimitar in hand, and before Rictor could parry the blow, the wolfen drew blood from Rictor's side. Wulfwinge was about to slash at Rictor again when something made him freeze. He then collapsed, a spear stuck in his back squarely in the middle. Behind him stood a man; a jungle man. He wore a maroon leather top and a pair of yellow leather pants, with a feathered headband tied around his forehead and a javelin in his right hand, supported by his left. The man prowled dangerously close and grabbed a handful of red powder from a pouch. He threw tthe powder at Rictor, and when Rictor made contact with it, his eyes closed and his body fell onto the forest bed; unconsious before he touched the ground.
~To be continued...This story is brought to you byDeparture.::Epee::.The poet
