The day was young and so was Círdan, for he was eager to get his adventures started. From the moment he woke up in his bed that he had bought for the night at the local inn, Círdan was ready for any adventure that he could encounter. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and Círdan could hear the sounds of market opening up for the day. Soon, people would be climbing over each other for bargins of all sorts before rushing home and doing what people did in this town. For all his life, Círdan had grown up in a village that was away from everyone... away from excitement and adventure. He knew that his mother was an adventurer in her time, and he had inherited her sword from her. Círdan's foster parents were farmers and they tried to hide his past away from him, but to no success... for here he was, in a city where he knew no-one at all. The very thought of being in a city where he knew no-one was exciting and made Círdan smile with delight. Here, he could be anyone he wanted to be and he could make his own fortune/adventures. He wanted to do what his mother did when she was young, before she settled down with a family. He wanted to travel the world and fight creatures, meet new people, use the wrong proverbs... he wanted to live life dammit!

Exiting the tavern, Círdan letted the rays of the sun bask down upon his golden hair and warm him up. He was dressed in some simple clothes that he had purchased from a merchant, the local attire that the people of Lómëdor wore, and the only thing he had brought was his mother's blade for self-defence purposes obviously. Círdan took one step forward and went in the direction of the woods, where he decided he would explore from there. But he didn't even get as far as the city gate before he heard the sounds of a horse drawn cart being dragged across the street. The cart was getting closer and when it went past Círdan, it splashed muddy water all over his clothes. Círdan looked at what had happened before looking at the driver of the cart, a fat man who was wearing a white robe that could barely contain his huge stomach. He didn't even look at who he had splashed, he just stuck his nose in the air as if he was some sort of royalty.

"Watch where your going with that horse-drawn slopbucket you oaf!" Círdan shouted at the large man, his voice deep with rage.

The horse drawn cart stopped and someone grabbed Círdan's arms from behind, dragging him towards the cart and the large man, who was looking at the young half-elf with a look of disgust, like he was some dirt on the heel of someone's boot. Círdan was pushed forward until he stumbled upon the cart. He looked at the white robed buffoon who had made him dirty, refusing to show any signs of weakness to the moron. The fat man then reached for something and then swung it at Círdan's head. It was a small metal club that was painted gold, and it had just been swung at his mouth and left Círdan with the taste of blood in his mouth. Círdan fell the the floor, landing into the gutters of the street. When he rose, he rolled his tounge over his teeth to see if any had been knocked out. Nope, they were all in Círdan's mouth, and not on the floor. The fat man guffawed at the sight of a half-elf teenager falling in the gutter.

"You should watch your mouth guttersnipe. Now go on your way and clean up dome dog-muck or something... filthy peasant..."

Círdan looked up again at the overweight pompus man and bared his teeth, he could feel the anger swell up inside of him and give him the strength to stand back up again. Clenching his fists, the young teenager rose and spat at the the fat man, hitting him straight in the eye.

"You pot-bellied pig," he snarled, "I've met your kind before pig, thinking your better than everyone else with your white horses and golden chariot. Pah! I spit on you and your riches, for your kind are nothing but pigs... rolling around in the dirt and eating rich pig-slop!"

Oh how the fatman was enraged. His face grew as red as a radish and he began to shake with pure fury. Some of the towns people were shocked, the ones with lesser quality clothes (whom Círdan assumed where beggers or lower class citizens) were smiling as if christmas had come early. The fat man wiped the spit from his face, pointed a lone finger at Círdan and tried to splutter some words out...

"S-s-s-s-such insolence. You shall pay d-d-dear boy. I shall see to it that you are w-working i-i-i..."

But Círdan simply laughed, disregarding the feeble attempts of his threats. Though he was only 19, Círdan had always known how to defend himself from bullies and morons. The trouble was, he sometimes placed his foot in his mouth and caused more trouble than he wanted to stop. The fatman could utter nothing more, instead he looked at his private guards and simply shouted...

"Teach that young vagabond a lesson. I want him covered in bruises... I want him to bark like the dog he is before you stop."

Several guards approached, all of them dressed in chainmail shirts and wielding either swords or spears. They walked forward expecting an easy time with their new found prey. But they were wrong, for they did not know exactly who they were dealing with. Círdan had spent his youth climbing trees and running around, so rather than run away... Círdan ran straight towards the guards. The guards all braced themselves, but they didn't know what was going to happen next. Círdan jumped, jumped as high as he could. He managed to jump upon a guard's shoulders before bounding upon another guard's shoulders and then another... he was literally walking on the guards. And then he got to the fat man, and he took great pleasure on landing on the fatman's shoulders before jumping one final time, doing a sommersault in the air for the crowd's pleasure.

The fatman was knocked back by the teenager's foot and hit the rear of the cart. Immediatley, the cart began to tip back and the only find holding it up was the two horses that were pulling it along. But they weren't going to stay for long, for Círdan drew his blade in mid-air and slashed the reigns that were holding onto the horses. They were cut and immediatley, the horses took off down the street and out of the city gates... where they roamed free. The cart had no counter weight anymore and it tipped over, the fatman falling out and hitting the ground... hard! He hit a puddle of mud and began to scramble in it, trying to get up. The guards immediatley ignored Círdan and tried to help their fat master get up from the puddle of humilation that he had fallen into.

There were cheers and whoops from the crowd as they watched the fatman flail around as his guards tried to pull him up. It was even funnier when the guards couldn't pull him up, instead they fell down as well and got into what could only be described as the biggest muddle in the history of humiliations.

"You insolent whelp!" screamed the fatman, "I am Lord Julius Promethius Charlton the Thrird!! Do you hear me?"

"Oh I can hear you Julian, but I just don't care," retorted Círdan, "You aren't a real Lord... you just call yourself that to make it sound like your important. But now, your in the muck like the pig you are. Maybe now you'll think twice before treating others the way you do..."

A flurry of swear-words came from the mouth of 'Lord' Julian as Círdan walked away from the hubble, to the chorus of cheers from the crowd. It was quite the way to start the day. His first adventure, his first win. Círdan smiled as he headed out of the square and for the city gates... his destination being wherever he could find adventure. Sheathing his blade, Círdan wondered what his first day in Ea would be like? Hopefully they weren't all as pompus as Lord Julius...

Phineas blinked a bit as he woke up. Blinding sunlight poured into the room like a river, giving everything an outline of gold. The room was a simple one, from the local inn. A trunk, half open with clothing spilling from its mouth, was in the corner. His bed lay by the window, tangled with a night's sleep. A candle lay, unlit, on the night table next to his head. He gave a hoarse yawn before bring himself into sitting position. His head throbbed, telling the tale of a previous night, and he gritted his teeth, sliding his hand down his face to refresh himself.

The evening of the previous day had not been one. He couldn't tell, but he believed it had something to do with an orc, a metal club, and a lot of ale. Memories escaped him and he was thankful for it. He did not want such stories to rear their ugly head early in the morning.

He stood up in the bed, reaching for his daily equipment. His sheath, his scimitar, his vest, and his packet of supplies lay in the corner, sprawled out lining the wall. One by one he picked them up, and donned them. He yawned loudly again, stretching his arms. Maybe he'd head down to the docks today...See if he could find some sailors stupid enough to give him a ride for free. This was usually his method of travel.

He made his way downstairs, the old inn stairs creaking unpleasantly. The bar was already filled with early birds, looking to get an ale in before a day's work. This idea seemed appealing to Phineas too, but he shrugged it off, thinking to himself Seize the day, with defiance. He tossed the bartender a small pouch of coins for the night's sleep, nodding thankfully. The bartender caught it with a grin, and nodded back. "Should I hold the room for another night?" the tender asked, persuasivley. "Um..." Phineas paused in the middle of the bar to think. "Yeah...just one more night," he said, his hoarse voice coming clear again. "Will do," the man replied, and Phineas walked out the door.

The day appeared to be the same as it was through his bedroom window. Flooded with light. The blue, cloudless sky was a spectacle to behold. The market outside the inn was already showing signs of life, with merchants setting up their various kiosks. Phineas smiled at a few familiar faces before heading towards the middle of the square. Maybe he could catch a donkeycart ride to the docks. It was a long walk otherwise. He paused, waiting for such luck, surveying his surrondings.

A carriage passed, of decorated sorts, spraying water from one of the puddles in the cobblestone street. Apparently it splashed someone, for seconds later a shouting match ensued, and this was surprisingly followed by a scuffle. Phineas watched, slightly entertained. By the finish, he was chuckling to himself with slight amusement sparkling in his eyes.

Once the man had calmed down, and the two had seperated, Phineas tapped the teenager on the shoulder. "Oi, kid." he began hoarsley.

The early morning sunshine shone in Raven's eyes as she stepped onto the streets of Lomedor, and for a brief moment the young archer shielded her gray eyes from the sun. The streets were relatively empty that morning, or at least as empty as Lomedor streets could possibly be, and Raven wanted to leave the city before the crowd arrived. Growing up in a rather out-of-the-way village, Raven had always disliked large crowds and many people.

The streets were muddy today, probably the result of rain that night, and the shapeshifter's footsteps made light impressions on the soft ground. A soft breeze blew through the air, playing with her black hair--the hair that had given her her name--and cooling her fair skin. The sunshine shone down on her, but not as harshly as it might at noontime, and feeling its warm rays on her skin was quite pleasant. She had removed her Ranger's Cloak in the hope of fine weather, placing it instead on her larger, black animal companion.

The warhorse, Naith, was a new addition to her traveling group. It had been gifted to her some time ago by the Syndicate of Blades, but she had not decided to make use of it until recently. Now she led the horse through the streets, keeping her hands firmly on the rein. Naith, a warhorse born and bred for battle, had been used to stronger, bigger warriors as masters, probably knights or those of that build. This slender young archer who was his new mistress only made the warhorse wary, and consequently stubborn.

On her other side walked her other familiar, the white wolf known as Aegis who had been her traveling companion for a little more than a year now. Aegis eyed Naith with a wary eye, not sure what to make of this new traveling companion, before continuing to walk through the streets beside the shapeshifter, loyally guarding her from any danger that he saw, real or not. His white paws had already been muddied by the dirt. The wolf and the warhorse on either side of her made the few people on the streets give her a wide berth.

As she reached the city gate, however, the young shapeshifter witnessed a bit of a commotion. A rich man, judging from his fine clothes and even finer carriage, had gotten into a disagreement with a young warrior. As Raven watched, the warrior performed a set of rather complicated movements, ending in the rich man being thrown into the mud.

A small smirk graced her features as she watched the rich man struggle to get out of the mud. It was quite a comical sight, and it made Raven almost want to laugh. She didn't much care for rich people like this, especially those that flaunted their status and oppressed those poorer than they were.

As the young warrior left the scene, Raven found herself moving in his direction. Naith tugged at the reins stubbornly, threatening to do what the carriage's horses had done, and ride off into the street. Raven tugged on his reins firmly, and the horse came with her. Aegis growled at the warhorse, and Naith would have lunged had Raven not been standing between the two.

She reached the warrior, turning to him as she passed.

"Not bad," she said, that smirk still on her face, "My congratulations on giving that pompous idiot just what he deserved."

Círdan had caused quite a commotion within the square that he was leaving behind. He was the talk of the town, the young boy who had evaded a rich-man's private guard before teaching the rich-pig a lesson that he deserved. Lord Julian obviously wasn't as popular as he thought he was with the people, for they were jesting and jeering at the site of an obese man flailing in the mud. It was probably the most excitement that the square had seen in quite a while, and Círdan was happy to provide. He kept on walking down the street to the city gate, stopping at a provision store in the process and buying some food for the long journey to wherever.

"Oh no sir, please... you don't need to pay, came the store owner's voice when Círdan handed over a few gold for his purchases, That Julius fellow has just moved in here see, and he's been treating everyone like dirt. That's why city guard hasn't arrested you for causing trouble, because you've done what everyone's been wanting for as long as he lived here. Please sir, this is free... just this once.

Círdan smiled and said his thank you's before walking onwards, not looking back at the overturned cart and commotion he had caused. He had heard of some good adventures that could have been sought in the forest, plenty of things to discover there. It was a good place to go to, for Julian hadn't the neccessary gear to buy equipment for the mountains, caves that Ea was supposed to have. And besides, he had just got here hadn't he? Perhaps it was best to start small...

"Not bad, My congratulations on giving that pompous idiot just what he deserved."

Círdan looked at the voice who had just spoke and saw a woman with a very expensive and well-bred horse her tow. Círdan had learnt how to ride horses when he was younger, so he could go to market and buy things from his foster parents. Only once did he race across the fields and over the fences to his home, and it was such an exhilirating experiance that he had never managed to replicate. It was too bad that he was carrying eggs in his bad at the time and when they broke from all of the hard riding that Círdan had done, he had to replace them with his own money and was grounded for quite a while.

How he would love to purchase his own horse one day, when he had the neccessary funds. How he would love to learn how to ride again. Círdan smiled at the stranger and nodded his head in recognition of what he had done.
"It was nothing," he said, "He was bound to anger the wrong person at some point,"

Círdan looked again at the horse and gazed at it in awe. This was a fine horse indeed, a horse unlike any other. It was built for rugged travel and Círdan wished that he had a horse like it. Círdan began to stroke the horse's mane and then rubbed the side of it's neck, smiling as he did so. The memories of being younger and imagining what his life would be like as a gallant knight on a horse came flooding back.

Just then, someone tapped him on the shoulder... a little too hard for comfort and it caused Círdan to move his shoulder by reaction so as to avoid it being knocked off it's place. And then there was the hoarse cry of "Oi, kid." coming from the same person.

Círdan turned around and saw another person who seemed to have witnessed the act as well, for he was still grinning from ear to ear. Círdan didn't realise how many people he had impressed with his little show of defiance. He was going to like it in Ea... oh yes he was.

Phineas frowned slightly as he observed the behavior of the storeowners to this "hero". This seemed to be out of line. Free merchandise for beating up a fat man? Why, Phineas was sure any person in the entire square could've hurt that walking bucket of lard. He scratched the stubs of his beard roughly with his dirty nails before turning back to the kid. He cleared his throat with a short cough before he returning his attention to the kid.

"That was something," he said, nodding his head towards the fat man, who was still flailing his fat arms in the gutter. "But don't get too headstrong," Phineas added, gazing at the boy's youthful eyes. "If you do that to too many people, you won't find yourself getting free stuff. Instead, you'll find yourself behind a set of bars." he said, probably a bit too harshly.

"See, I'm a mercenary, and mapmaker. I travel. I 'adventure', if you will. I need an apprentice. An extra hand, if you know what I mean. And I think you could polish up those fightin' skills o' yours. You follow me around kid, and you'll learn how to survive round this city. There's a difference between a town square and a pub. You might not be so lucky next time,"

The kid seriously seemed to be enjoying his five minutes of fame, which might lead to a spurt of arrogance that Phineas would not like from an 'apprentice'. He started to regret his little proposition, but quickly shrugged off the thought. He would teach the kid not to get to stuck up...The tyke might actually come into some sort of use.

The crowd around the fat man was clearing now, and the square was returning to its normal self...The boy's feat was still in the back of people's minds, but they had begun to barter and bargain like monkeys over a banana. Phineas looked down at the kid, waiting for a reply...

Raven found herself nodding in agreement at the young man's words. People like that always got themselves into trouble. If they were rich enough, or smart enough, they could usually find ways to hide from people who might wish them ill, but this fat man seemed to be quite lacking in brains. He was still flailing around in the mud, his once fine white robe now stained a deep brown. He truly cut a pathetic figure. Hopefully, a blow to his pride like that would let out some of the hot air inside his head.

Her attention switched back to the warrior as he began rubbing Naith's neck and stroking his mane.

"Be careful," she cautioned, "He's not very friendly."

The warhorse watched him warily, and for a moment Raven feared that he might bite. She had spent most of the early hours of the morning dodging the horse's carefully hidden lunges as she groomed him. Naith, however, remained where he stood, whinnying as he continued to survey his surroundings. Raven didn't quite know exactly what to make of it. Perhaps the horse was prejudiced against her since the beginning. She would need to have a talk with it, as soon as they were out of the city. Being able to shift between human and animal forms had its uses--it at least allowed her to find out exactly what bothered her familiars.

What was bothering Aegis was clear to her, however. The white wolf was sniffing the young man and the other newcomer cautiously. Raven let out a sigh, glancing at him. The wolf had learned long ago that biting any 'suspicious' newcomer it came across would earn it a scolding from Raven, and perhaps a lessening of that day's rations, and resigned himself to sniffing unless someone actually showed an intent to harm. Raven too, had stopped with the scolding after a while, resigning herself to sharp glances and calls once the wolf started to cross the line between sniffing around and attacking.

This time, she sent the wolf a warning glance before turning her eyes back towards the other newcomer. He too had a point. One of these days, the young warrior might just cross the wrong person, and then what would happen to him? The man seemed to be offering the young warrior an apprenticeship. She listened, but it wasn't her place to say anything. Raven decided to watch and see how things would play out. If the two continued to talk along this line, the shapeshifter planned to continue along her way. It wasn't her business what these two were planning, and she wasn't going to offend them by remaining.

It was an intersting offer, a small apprenticeship where Círdan could learn a few things. So why on Earth did he feel a bit uneasy about it? He was new in this town and going off with a stranger was dumb. This stranger's intentions were more than likely good, but Círdan didn't want to leave with someone he didn't trust 100%. No, perhaps it would be best to make it in his own way and learn his own skills... it was what he wanted after all. Not only that, but this man was trying to warn him about the dangers of what he had just done to Julian.

"I know what I did wasn't the best idea," Círdan explained, "But this man thinks he can treat people the way he did. And come on, if it was the other way around... if it was you who had just been bullied... what would you do?

"I thank you for the offer sir, but I'm not ready for something like an apprenticeship yet. I want to learn other things for myself and I'm going to trek somewhere and find things on my own two feet."

As Julian said this, a glazed look appeared over his eyes... the kind of look that people get when they daydream about getting a farm and settling down, or trying to write a novel. The look you get when you dream about what you want, in this case... Julian wanted to do something with this life he was living. A farmer's life was not for him, Julian wanted to live life and see lands he had never seen before.

Julian then noticed that a wolf was sniffing his hand, and he recoiled slightly... for wolves had a habit of sometimes bitting what they sniffing. Now that he was brought down to Arda again, Julian decided to say his farewells. He had a long trek ahead of him and he needed to get a head start. He walked off and said goodbye to all those who had met him, before walking out of Lomedor Square and eventually the city gates.

But this is not the end of our little story here. For Julian had managed to get back up again and his white robes were covered in mud. Julian was also red in the face, and resembled a very large radish. Looking around, Julian could see people smiling and laughing at him. What had this child done? The Charlton family name had been covered in mud. The Charlton's were rich noblemen who had gotten rich through many ways.

And if there was one thing that Julian knew about, it was how to use his money to solve his problems. Oh yes, they say that money doesn't solve everything... but the person who said that was no doubt a pennyless bottomfeeding peasent. Oh Julian would have his revenge in more ways than one. He had gotten a look at that boy and could remember everything about him. Julian began to walk to his manor, enduring the laughs and jeers from people. He would have the last laugh in the end, he always did.

Eventually day turned to night. As the sun slept, so did the people of Lomedor. But Julian was still awake, and was awaiting visitors. When he arrived at his manor, he had waited until the moon appeared before lighting a torch on his roof... a special torch... a beacon. This beacon was for summoning certain people, very special people that Julian had befriended and eventually donated money toward them.

Suddenly, someone appeared from the shadows. He was a giant of a man, his bald head almost reaching for the ceiling. But his muscles were something, for they were plenty. People called him "Big Fred", and Julian could see why. Rumour had it that his father was a bandit, and that he had tried to sell "Big Fred" into slavery... but "Big Fred" escaped and when he found his father, he strangled him with his bare hands before joining the bandits... and soon, "Big Fred" became leader of the bandits.

"Hello there friend," Julian said, a wolf-like grin emerging on his face, "I have a job for you..."