David had been sequestered to a stay at a local tavern in Sosshi. A severe storm was projected to be passing through the area. The damage was reasonable. Seasonal storms were expected, flooding was something everyone in the forsaken region dealt with at one time or another. Near where David lived at least, the rain was considered fortunate as it was good for crops and the fresh water was excellent for forging. People were passing the time as you might expect in the tavern, while they waited for the storm to pass, some of them were making forecasts of their own. As to how the more frail houses were holding, few of them had positive prospects to share about last year's need for assistance from the state. The church often had their hand in delegation of providence, adjudicating and proffering assistance where they may, when they can. As the storm began to roil the inn's occupants, it passed over. Giving them time to decide, where best to delegate their efforts, and where simply they could manage to recover most easily. The first decision was made to re-allocate some civilian's into shared accommodation; they were more than hospitable, they were patriotic in their sense of collective good-will. Helping each other, in lifting the burden that they all shared. In trying times, what made The Clover Kingdom so great, was this tenacity of spirit.

Very tersely were thieves and looters dealt with, the harshest punishments for such crimes were not pretty. A history of megalomania often was the case in hangings. Larceny was a petty crime in itself, but there were often extraneous circumstances and charges brought about. Such as trespassing, or assault. Though, there were only a select few rotten apples to make examples of. They were not found here, or anywhere near here thankfully. Predators of their own kind were heinous, and David's stomach churned trying to contemplate the will of a man who would delight in such afflictions. Civil co-existence was at times uneasy, and from David's perspective; a fresh view, there were more rewarding experiences than stagnating in fear. But David; being diligent in his fervor for justice, never wavered or yielded from giving someone their well-deserved punishment. Alternatively, he was taciturn. Often considering; with great passion, over a long measure of time, before coming to a conclusion on any one thing or another. This effort to relocate some of his fellow civilians was an immediate decision, one David thought very little about. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. He was young, healthy and unlike many of the people in Sosshi; right now, he had a home to go back to.

David wore a dark cloak, appeared well-rested and was currently helping a family sort through their waterlogged belongings. Many things could not be salvaged. David prayed with his arms crossed. Prayers for their well-being, as well as for the safety of their family. He would petition the church personally, when he finished helping here. They would be able to provide more than David could. Looking around the debris, he noticed other people engaged in similar work. This was a good sign. He felt relieved that he wasn't tirelessly working alone. David was one man, but he felt like a nation when he saw the smiles on disheartened folk such as these. They weren't complaining, only working to restore and reinforce their homes for the next natural disaster that came their way. Ready to rebuild at the drop of a hat. Clover's were resilient people, David respected that.

Word Count: 595

The people responded to leadership. They were agile in their dexterity to proffer assistance. Tables and chairs soon appeared, in the reasonable enough shape. A resounding gratuity emanated with each passing gesture, and although David was slow to respond, he too did his part. Where he could, he did his best to be delicate with other people's belongings. Asking permission prior to contact with any personal item. David did not live very far from this district, and sympathized with his fellow denizens of Clover. This time of year, being notorious for temperamental weather, was expected and prepared for. Rations were stockpiled and dispensed to those that volunteered. Carts that had not fallen foul to the storm, had been optimized for travelling large quantities of essentials. The horses were fed, ready for the journey ahead of them.

David looked around himself, the disaster was manageable, at least. He confided this in no one, but there was nothing abjectly amiss. It was like he wasn't using his vast potential and skill assisting with this task. Feet that were once sure; finding their course where they may, were unsteady and felt cumbersome. It had been only one night's rest, since David's trip into what lay beyond the fringe. Taxing as it was on his body, it was his mind that suffered. From exhaustion and fatigue, to paranoia and fears. David found his body was not as young as it once was, and his strength that had been evident in his earlier youth had all but faded. Now, more than ever, he felt his years setting in. He shaved frequently, but he felt the bristles underneath his thumb. Soon it would be uncomely and almost obvious that his hair was not naturally the color it was.

Tarrying a moment, before deciding to take his chances, the man felt deeply unsatisfied with his current line of employment, and measured his next few steps in the mud. The lunging man's primary occupation was ambiguous, but as his mud-stained regalia suggested, the unnamed man was a vagabond. David encountered him, who was tumbling through the puddles, and sliding through the mud. Ill-begotten loot spilling out from his pockets unbalanced him, he was over-encumbered by material belongings not his own. Not quite sure how to respond, David began weighing his options. David's merciful considerations was short-lived, when the mysterious man pulled out a knife. Actual life consideration afoot in the mind of the young man being attacked, who seemed more than overwhelmed by the prospect, was probably the only thing slowing down the untimely demise of an opportunistic mad-man.

David mentally counted to three, as the man trudged through the mud, with a hungry, unhinged look in his eye. Swiping the knife back and forth, intimidation only fueled the actual terror David felt after being attacked. Not one to foster arduous amounts of cowardice, nor ever one to shy away from the chance to prove himself a hero; David opened his grimoire swiftly. The palm of one of David's hands lay across the pages of the book; while the other he hid behind his back, he spoke, "Lenore." As David pulled his hand away from behind him, a sable-auraed, 41-inch sword; with a loop connecting the blade to the hilt, materialized. He shifted his stance, glancing menacingly towards the man.

Fully aware of the laws of the land, and his innate strength, David had a talent for using a good measure of restraint. Other's around him, had been frightened and fled. Some stayed to cajole the man into calming down, but David had been the only person thus far to actually brandish arms against him. Proffering no recourse, David used the flat of the blade and swung, hard. The man was knocked back; about as far as David could manage without causing serious injury, rendering him comatose. David had defended himself, and was filled with inner turmoil at the contrite nature of the act. He rubbed at his heavy brow, tired of being tired.

---

Word Count: 666
Total Word Count: 1261

---

Spells Used:

---

Mana Math:
Current Mana: 105/105
Mana Used: 85/105
Mana Regeneration: 105/105

The two men disheartened beyond belief; each for their own reasons, were berated and ridiculed by a teenage girl. The spontaneous soprano lilted over the silence, David lazily turned on the spot raising his sword to the light as it dissipated. He laughed and made light of the situation, being a citizen; he was not above the law, which he knew implicitly. Looking directly at the young woman, he put down his hands to his side and acknowledged her, "I was attacked first..." He hesitated, beyond restraint, maybe he hastened to action too swiftly, he regretted his actions. "He had a knife!" Grasping at straws, David quickly brought to attention the fact the thief was lining his pockets brazenly, in broad daylight. "The man was a thief." Consequently; he felt self-assured, though accused. Eager to set the record straight, he felt as though vindication was more likely than reprisal. The man was a criminal.

Blindly dispensing justice, however, in such a manner, would; in due course, have repercussions. David felt as though he could argue his case. Witnesses would attest to the man's hostility, and he felt his emotions settle when he reasoned with himself philosophically. Tired from long bouts of travel with no rest, a small part of him actually succumbed to ascertain that prison would assure him food and a bed. He smiled pleasantly, though beleaguered by many miles, he already had made a bad first impression. He didn't feel particularly inclined to introduce himself, the young woman appeared worried, if not, concerned. By David's reckoning, she was at the age where she would sell you out, for any perceived slight. He was on eggshells with one such as this. David had no clue if she was nobility or not, but felt it was best to treat her delicately.

Word Count: 301
Total Word Count: 1562

The young woman sprung like a viper after a mouse, taking apart what little serendipity the thief had. David watched with disinterest, the man was already beaten. It was not within David's current comprehension that he could have disarmed the man without using one a sword. Slightly surprised by the culmination of the events at hand, David listened to her words. It was obvious that his display of magic would need to be explained, he hoped that his explanation would suffice. "It's just a enchanted sword, really. " Not entirely sure if she believed that or not, he decided to simultaneously avert her gaze and hide his grimoire. Her name was unfamiliar, but her quest was noble. David himself had wanted to return to the capital, perilous as the journey may have been, he could sure use the company. He proffered his free hand, toward Adrenna. "Salutations, my name is David... " As for her invitation, it seemed slightly off. But David's naivety was strong. He accepted her offer, " I suppose. travelling together is a wise decision."

Not necessarily knowing what lay ahead, he rested his eyes for a moment before assisting with the packing of the caravans. There were a few civilians who echoed the sentiment of safety that he could provide travelling to the capital. David accepted the task, wholeheartedly, how could he refuse? Any suspicions he had were allayed by his own concerns. David found a comfortable stack of hay, and prepared for the journey. How long before a decent bath and meal? His hopes were mundane, after the surreal adventure he'd currently experienced, his prayers for safe travel and a bright destination. Weighing on her words, he realized they were fundamentally a contrivance. As he rationally deduced, Adrenna had some fighting skills that only came from living a hard life. Thinking about this, didn't help him trust her any less. But it did put his purpose into perspective, whether she was being honest, or otherwise. He raised his metaphorical guard, and waited.

Word Count: 334
Total Word Count: 1896

David had various views about the young woman carrying four knives; mostly about the vicarious nature in which she produced them, ever so nonchalantly she offered him a snack. He personally felt it best to refuse the offer, but perceived that it would be construed as rude if he did not at least consider the offering first. "Like potato chips?" David ventured a hesitant question, he was at a gastronomical disadvantage, and the strange cuisine was new to him. The young woman probably made them herself; which would make sense as it was a rustic choice. Locally sourced food was exquisite, but usually lacked variety. There was only so many ways; David imagined, that you could cook a particular grain. Feeling adventurous, and upon consideration, he accepted the snack as graciously as he could manage to. "Thank you, but, alas; I have only an apple, to share." Which he proffered. It was an orchard apple, and David hadn't paid for it. He hoped the reciprocation would be appreciated.

The others, they were social enough. Tallying up their losses, carrying only the essentials. David felt only slightly aggrieved for his kinsmen, knowing that the state would reimburse them; and lavishly house some of them. A few nobles; and ne'er do well's, made good business off the back's of these migrants. Highway men lurked in the lengths between towns, as did brigands and thieves. David was lucky enough to be blessed with the tools he needed to survive, unfortunately; for some, his solutions to these situations were often pointy, and accompanied by unseasoned debate queries. His internal thoughts lingered on the nutritional value of the apple versus the rice chips he had bartered for, for example. He attempted to not disassociate himself by being pensive. The conveyance of the apple was a hard loss, David believed there was no point in thinking about it for an immoderate amount of time.

David had his suspicions about the young woman, but didn't want to be rude. She could have put spices in the rice, that would have improved the conscientious snack choice's flavor, but David felt as if pointing this out would only have distressed her. It was probably not the thing she wanted to converse about; if it had been, she hadn't brought it up yet. He allowed the appropriate time to pass for him to clear his mind, David was a pragmatic individual; he was sure he could think of something to strike up a conversation about. Short of analyzing the silence, his primary digression from the hollow sound of the cart passing over the road, was a well-thought out query that would hopefully allay his curiosity. "Why do you carry four knives... Why not like three... You're carrying more aren't you?" His three questions were more like one elongated question of his own safety, in a purely subjective frame of response, his time was limited to get an answer from her either way. Either sleep, or one of those knives would claim him. David privately hoped not a combination of the two.

Word Count: 511
Total Word Count: 2407