The New Frontier

[Anatho]

Anatho raised his goblet to his mouth. This wine was some of the worst he'd ever had it tasted somehow as if it had been burnt, yet spoiled. Two impossible feats for wine. He'd brought three barrels, filled with bottles of fine wine to the new land, and in six months he drank it all. He never seemed capable of drinking enough to forget why he drank. At home, it took far less of his good wine, and for a few moments at least, those succulent moments that occurred as his head spun, he was almost like any other person. Ignorant. Ignorant to pain of loss, ignorant to the workings of so many things, and ignorant to the feeling of being physically surrounded, but truly being a hermit. Here, however, drink as he might, and spin as the walls around him did, he was never removed from his worries and woes. So now, he drank this concoction of what he assumed were raisins that had fell into the mud and pig shit, that was tended by some imbecile who believed he could make wine. He raised the goblet again. He may as well begin drinking ale, it had never pleased his tongue, but perhaps it could please his soul like this poor excuse for a drink did not.

He sat the goblet down, on the corner of the table, and picked up his quill. It was a swan feather, and it always filled him with an appreciation for its beauty, but a sense of anger that such beauty was used for so trivial a purpose. Still, it wrote more finely than any quill he'd used before, and he dipped it into the ink next to the tome he was preparing. When closed, the front cover read, The Art of Scrying. Now, though, it was open. He was currently writing in his section on the drawbacks to each are of magic when used for Scrying. Specifically the area of Elder Magic. As his quill touched the paper, he took up where he left off, mid sentence, often find it difficult to begin learning the scry. This is in no small part due to the differences in the forms of magic. While studying in Arcadia, my associates and I noticed varying connections between the physical and arcane. Anima magic is directly related to nature. It is necessary, as with any form of magic, to have a strong will to control. In this level of control, many mages find it possible to scry in pools of water, with some who are more experienced being capable of doing so with mirrors, crystal, and air. Light is perhaps even more suited for Scrying, as it is capable to bend the presence of ligh- he stood. He needed to go into more detail, the men and women who read this tome would not have his knowledge of magic, and need a farther knowledge to understand his words. He'd add to it tomorrow. He took off his tunic, and flung it against the wooden walls of his chamber. He was given a room in the governors house, until his own was finished being built. He crossed the room to his bed, and crawled in next to the young woman already asleep. He believed her name was Patrice. He curled onto his side, facing away from her, unable to look at the nude woman's back without having memories rush back to him. He closed his eyes, and after an hour of thought, sleep came.

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Whatever gods existed had deemed to bless this town with a boring life. It was sunrise now, and the new ship had been spotted. It came with new colonists, and a large number of goods. He was only there because it was expected, and he was more excited than he was sure anyone expected him to be. As well as a few more trained soldiers, and superior armor and weapons, a massive supply of tobacco was being brought to the town, and that pleased the General-Advisor. He wasn't sure which was more useless, the title given him, or the title given the governor. It was clear from the moment his boots touched this land's accursed sand who held the power here. The ship came into port. Good, thought Anatho, see if they deemed to send a competent officer, then send for his pipe. He had a massive headache, and the wine from the night before seemed even worse a product.

[Kenshin]

Kenshin awoke with a splitting headache, he did not know where he was, the land had looked completely different than it did the night before. It was sunset as well, he did not think it possible that he slept all day and some how was dragged to the middle of nowhere. It was time to search for people to find out where he was, as he rose to his feet he almost fell flat onto his face, even as he took a few steps he felt light headed. There was movement in the distance that caught his eye, smoke. Smoke meant there was a fire, where there was fire people were bound to be near by. It didn't take long for him to recover from the light headedness, quickly approaching where he saw the smoke he realized what was truly going on. It wasn't people using a fire for warmth or cooking a meal, a small village was on fire. He could hear a mixture of screams, some of terror and others were... quite odd, he couldn't tell why they were yelling. The village was in clear view, images of his home burning and people being slaughtered flooded his mind. "I'm not going to run this time, I'm going to kill those responsible for this." One of the bandits rounded the corner, he was nearly naked if it wasn't for his under garment, he was also painted a bright blue all over his chest and parts of his face. Hollering like a baboon, similar to the sound he couldn't tell was, he came charging towards Kenshin. Grabbing the hilt of his sword Kenshin drew the blade and cleaving the man in half in one swing. Kenshin gracefully dodged attacks and fell each bandit in sight. He heard a woman screaming off in the distance, rushing to her aid he found her trapped in an ally and killed one of the bandits in a surprise attack. The other turned around, seeing all of his comrades fallen and demanded to know Kenshin's name. "A corpse has no need for such information." the two moved towards each other, both attempted to kill the other and only one victor.

The girl had rushed to Kenshin's side as the bandit fell to the ground and threw her arms around him thanking him repeatedly. Sheathing his sword he broke from her grasp and asked where he was, the girl told him the town's name but it didn't sound familiar to him, he asked if it was in Bern and the name was just as foreign to her as the town was to him. He began to leave as she chased after him and clung to his legs and begged to come with him, he allowed her only to help him navigate his way around the land, she had introduced herself as Sara. With each passing day it was more evident that he wasn't in Elibe, each reminder sent Kenshin deeper into a depression. All he wanted to do was go home and be with his wife and daughter but getting to see them once again was a slim chance.

One morning Kenshin had found a map, he was in disbelief as he stared at it. Everything looked very similar to Elibe with some noticeable differences, asking the girl the name of the continent she had confirmed it was in face Elibe. The next few moments was the final stage of his downward spiral into depression, a small number of dragons flew over head, not thinking he had muttered something about the dragons disappearing during the Scouring and them staying in hiding. "The Scouring? What's that?" Was it possible he was sent to the past? All of this was confusing as hell. That night was the first of many he starting to attempt to drown his depression in alcohol, it was also the first night Sara had tried to seduce him.

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That was eight months ago. Sara had tried harder and harder to get Kenshin to sleep with her as he drank. He had refused to even look at her in that way, in his heart he still was married to Katara even if he couldn't hold her. Sara had slowly began to be more successful in her attempts, it had got to the point where Kenshin was on top of her, both in undergarments before he was able to process what was actually happening. In his drunken state he gathered his clothes, his sword, and the remaining alcohol and left still in his underwear. Stumbling to get his clothes on in an ally he finished off the drink and passed out. Waking with the worst hangover Kenshin made his way to the harbor, the ship that was about to leave was bound to the Outrealm Islands. Standing in front of the ship was a man looking for last minute sell-swords to join them in the conquest of the new lands, there was only one thing that made Kenshin feel alive since losing Katara, cheating death on the battlefield. Kenshin wasted no time, walking past the man he began to board the ship and waited for the departure. The morning of the ship's arrival couldn't have come sooner, Kenshin was hoping to come across one of the massive beast Sara had told him about in this new land.

[Anatho]

Anatho smiled as the ship finally finished docking. Almost immediately, the sailors began to unload the cargo from the ship, and alongside them civilians stepped onto the docks for their first time, and began to walk towards Aden the town that would be their new home. The ships captain strolled towards Anatho, swaying shoulders, big as you please. He wore an almost comically oversized hat, and nearly stomped when he came to a halt. He spoke like one who could not read. "'Ello there sir! You would be Lord Anatho I'd assume?"[/color] Anatho nodded and spoke, "Yes, I am General Anatho, and Lord Anatho as well if it pleases you. Captain, have your men set aside a few casks of Tobacco will you? We'll see about planting it later, but my men need something to keep them going. You will be fully compensated." He walked past the man onto the ship, he saw two heads he recognized. He walked towards the one he did not very much want to see first.

Sir Rodney Pheras. A young Cavalry officer, who had always had a stoic demeanor. He was a cutting figure, he had soft features and flaming red hair. He had steel blue eyes. He had a very lithe frame and held it at full attention. The first colonists had brought horses, but none of them were beasts of war, so why would a cavalry officer be sent to him? Upon seeing Anatho the man snapped his back even straighter, which had seemed impossible. He stretched his hand out to the older man and began his greeting, "Greetings Sir." Antho shook the hand and said, "Hello captain. Are you the commanding officer of the soldiers they sent?" The younger man shook his head, brushing the hair that fell into his eyes due to the motion aside. He spoke again, "No sir, that would be Captain Vade. She is down stairs, in the hull. I am simply here to inspect the conditions, and report back to the king. He'd like me to see if it's suitable territory for horses." Anatho nodded, and responded, "Good. He knows I've never truly understood the beasts, how goes the war back home?" The young man smiled, which was uncommon, "Very well General. Gural has lost their sell sword backing, and the men have turned to our side. The king believes we will take the last of their lands within the year." Anatho nodded, then said, "That's good. I'm sure you'll be able to have a room in some tavern or what have you, if not, I apologize." He walked past him, towards the other man he thought he recognized.

Zahawk Kaveh. A man only a few years younger than Anatho, but with nearly as many battles under his belt. He was what was called the "right hand" of the Mercenary Troupe, the Desert Foxes. He was a cheerful gentleman, and one of the few men with a simple mind Anatho couldn't make himself hate. He was thin, but a little wider in the shoulders than Rodney. He had deep brown skin, and a thick black goatee that came to a point at the end of his chin. He wore a thickly wrapped white turban on his head. On each side of his hip, he wore two scimitars, their hilts shaped like coiled vipers, hissing with an emerald in their mouths. When he saw Anatho he spread his arms out and walked towards him, seeming to shout, "Ahaha! Aneetho my friend! They told me that you would be here!" He took the Magi in a fierce hug. Anatho smiled as they parted, "Hello old friend, is Ronstam here?" He looked a little past the man. "These men don't look like Foxes."[/color] Zahawk shook his head, "No, friend, they are not. That's why I am here. Ronstam heard you were in this new land, and he wanted to start repaying his debt. These men are only recruits, but a few can fight. In a few months, Ronstam will arrive, on one of our own Galleys. With him will be men of the Desert. So, while I am here, what sort of things will we fight? I'd heard there were beasts and monsters here like the old lands, and I don't know about you my friend, but I've always wanted to fight one of those ones with the one eye." Anatho smiled. He looked around at all the men, not a lot of experience on most of them. Oh well, he might as well inspect them. "Can you bring them all together?" Zahawk smiled, "For you my friend? Of course!" He whistled loudly, then shouted something in the desert language.

They all came to stand behind him, they were unorganized. Fantastic. Anatho walked up to them, and pointed at a youth with blue hair. He said, "Your name. How long have you been fighting?" The young man spoke, Hilbrand sir. Four years." Anatho nodded, and added, "And where are you from?" The young man answered, "A town in Northern Elda sir." Anatho nodded. He picked two other mercenaries out at random, and asked them the same questions. The he stopped at a man with long red hair, who looked like a plainsman. He asked him all three questions at once.

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[Kenshin]

On the boat ride Kenshin realized sailing wasn't as bad as he thought. Many years ago he skipped out on going to the Western Ilse because he didn't like the idea of leaving the ground, but coming to this new land wasn't as bad as he thought. Sure he did suffer from sea-sickness at first but once he got over it things was smooth sailing. Once the ship hit the docks Kenshin stuck with the few people he was able to recognize as soldiers or mercenaries. Everyone else seemed to be busy as they scurried around the ship doing different task, it wasn't long before what appeared to be the person in charge had been asking some of the recruits questions, only one of them posed a problem, what would he say?

The man had asked the group Kenshin was in the same three questions, he allowed the others to answer before him while he thought of a response. "My name is Kenshin, I've had a sword in hand ever since a child but I put all of the training I had received for the past fourteen years. I'm from a small village somewhere in eastern Elibe." Lying was never Kenshin's strong point, it was much simpler to make it vague.