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The fire crackled as it slowly burned the last of the embers.
“Blast! I burnt my only steak…” Haggard cursed “Now we’ll have to press on to Trinsic for provisions before we return to Paws.”
Fighter only smirked as he gazed into the flames.
“Well at least the roads are safe travel between Paws and the golden city” Haggard reflected “I honestly do not know how you managed fending off the hordes on your own for so many moons.” He looked over at Fighter. “If not for you, Paws would just be another stick in the mud like the old village that’s buried under the Fens, eh there Fighter?”
Fighter rolled his head a bit at the sound of his name.
“Hmm?.. Yes, yes, I suppose it’s a miserable lot of my luck. It seems I was born to run things through.”
Haggard looked at his captain with a mix of speculation. Fighter usually never spoke with such personal timbre. He was not quite sure he wanted to know the reason for his captain’s mood and with reluctance he began “Fighter, may I ask – are you.. I mean, is everything...” but he was cut off.
“A farmhand,” Fighter spouted “What if my parents had named me ‘a farmer’, or ‘a farm boy’? Would my lot have been any different? Or is destiny such a cruel master that it would have bound me to slaying beasts with pitchforks instead of halberds?”
“Yes well I suppose when consider her that way, Destiny can be as harsh a master as the daemons of Hythloth,” Haggard agreed as he stamped out the fire. He was perplexed at the sudden outburst of such thoughts and not quite sure he wanted to know the extent to which Fighter had seriously considered a change of professions.
“Well, when I am done with my service to Zoltan, I shall face destiny face to face. We shall see if she can indeed force my hand to the blade or the plowshare…” Fighter said scornfully. “But, come to Trinsic. We must attend to the duty that the guards of King Brit shirk so carelessly,” he continued with noticeable contempt, “only when some poor fool cries out do they even consider their duty, and poorly at that. Perhaps if they would fulfill duty, the world would not have need of me as a Fighter.”
As the guardsmen of Paws walked down the path towards Trinsic, the scent of their scene faded along with their image.
---- ------ -----
The bear looked back to trees to converse with an unseen shadow; conveying all of the campfire discussions with perfect detail….
“Yes Mishka,” the voice echoed “they will be surprised when they reach Trinsic. It seems our Fighting friend won’t be able to realize his horticultural dream anytime soon..”
