While I have a fairly normal memory, and so some small details will be inaccurate, I would like to record here a simulacrum of the conversation we held with the guards that evening at the Leafy Wolf Inn, as it was the first inkling of solid Contest news that I had received up to that point. The dramatis personae consists of myself, Virilus; my companion, Drifter; the two guards, Fennec and Darren; and the barmaid, whose name we never got.

  Fennec is a man from Barrington a few years younger than myself with whom I enjoyed some unrecorded conversations about our favorite drinking spots in the area. He was relatively new to the profession and was being mentored, as much as a caravan guard can be mentored, by his companion Darren. Darren travelled a lot as a child, hailing from nowhere in particular, but he had semi-settled in Norport and had a wife and three children there.

  FENNEC: So you said you were in the north for, what, a few months?

  ME: Thereabouts. I passed through here in early spring, we're nearly into summer, close enough.

  FENNEC: No news in that time?

  ME: Only local.

  DARREN: Oh boy.

  FENNEC: Yeah, bad time to be be out of touch.

  ME: Is it Contest news?

  FENNEC: Sort of. Things have turned upside down here and there.

  DARREN: Bromid is a warzone, now, for starters.

  ME: From who? It's right in the middle of Crellus.

  DARREN: Everyone.

  FENNEC: Pretty much. Every neighbouring nation has their armies in there. The capital fell, villages razed, forts toppled. Crellus may as well not exist.

  ME: Hell. That's a lot.

  FENNEC: Just the start, really.

  DARREN: Hard to know what to even talk about. Arestria?

  FENNEC: That's a weird one.

  ME: Weird how?

  DARREN: All the warlords formed some sort of united council under Paronius. Then they put him forth as a Contestant.

  ME: Makes sense to me. The Contestant part, at least.

  FENNEC: The guy is a heroic sort, for sure.

  ME: So Arestria is at peace?

  DARREN: Pretty much. Never heard of it before, myself.

  ME: It's been a good eighty or so years since the last unification, I'm not surprised.

  DARREN: This happens sometimes?

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  ME: Well, it's usually a bit more bloody, but it's happened a few times. You know the legend of Finlay?

  DARREN: Just a story, innit?

  ME: Some of it, probably, he's got an awful lot of crazy stories. But uniting Arestria definitely happened, we have a lot of records from that time corroborating it.

  BARMAID: Drinks look empty, boys, want another round?

  ME: Yeah, I'll get this one.

  FENNEC: Good man, thanks.

  DRIFTER: Plate of snacks, too.

  BARMAID: Chips and dips okay?

  DRIFTER: Ta.

  BARMAID: Aye, I'll be back.

  FENNEC: Holy hell, he speaks.

  DARREN: He's getting us food, he can be as quiet as he wants.

  FENNEC: Fair enough.

  ME: Any other Contestants announced?

  FENNEC: Lots. Trying to think of who actually matters.

  DARREN: Varys is local, at least.

  FENNEC: Is that official?

  DARREN: Well, no, but he's sure been acting up.

  ME: Varys the Vagabond? The Blood Bandit?

  DARREN: Yeah. Last I heard the army was organizing a raid on him, but I don't think Beornia has anyone who can take him down on their own.

  FENNEC: No way Varys doesn't rout them. If he stands out front and swings his spear he'll kill a dozen men and scare off a hundred.

  ME: And no one can stand up to him?

  FENNEC: I've never heard of anyone around here.

  DARREN: Not exactly a hotspot for glory and combat.

  ME: Interesting. Isn't he one of Arestria's brood?

  DARREN: That's what he says.

  ME: Not many who could stand against him, then. Even other demigods would get scared off.

  FENNEC: Well, lots of options coming out of the woodwork, someone will probably take him down.

  DARREN: Who's that guy we heard about last week? With the fancy sword?

  FENNEC: Oh gods, what was his name?

  ME: Darwin? Ferom's kid?

  DARREN: That's it.

  FENNEC: Scary sounding sword.

  ME: I mean, that's his thing.

  DARREN: Yeah, and he killed one of the filth kids with it.

  ME: Grima has so many descendants that could mean anything.

  DARREN: It was one of the big ones. The one with the sewer smuggling thing.

  ME: Oh, yeah. Shoot, I forget his name. That is impressive.

  FENNEC: Yeah, he said he'd claim his father's throne and set out for Bromid. I think one of the mind kids did the same.

  DARREN: Orpheus, yeah. Oh, and Plato announced himself months ago, maybe you missed that.

  ME: Oh, yeah, that's news. Any update? It only takes a month or so to get from Barrington to Bromid.

  DARREN: Dead, killed in the Crellus invasion.

  FENNEC: I think another blood kid got him. That's what I heard.

  DARREN: There are a lot of them around, I suppose.

  ME: Any of them in the Contest?

  DARREN: I mean, probably? Haven't heard any announce themselves.

  ME: I guess most of them wouldn't.

  BARMAID: Ales and snacks, boys. Skelly had a garlic sauce and a tomato sauce ready to go, if you want another let me know and I can see what else he's got.

  FENNEC: This is great, thanks.

  DARREN: Cheers for the goodies, guys.

  ME: My pleasure, I've heard nothing for nothings, this conversation is more than worth a few ales.

  FENNEC: Hey, these chips are actually great, good call quiet man.

  DRIFTER: Mm.

  ME: Oh, did I forget to introduce him? He calls himself Drifter.

  DARREN: Nice to meet you.

  DRIFTER: Likewise.

  FENNEC: Where you from?

  DRIFTER: Don't know.

  ME: He seems to have some sort of amnesia. Neither of us are sure why.

  DARREN: With that many rings? Broke a vow, probably, gotta be hard to keep that many straight at once.

  ME: What vow could possibly do that? That's insane.

  FENNEC: I saw a guy forced to swear on his self for a job once. Next time I saw him he'd lost his memories. Would have lost his mind entirely if not for his wife caring for him.

  ME: I didn't even know that was still a thing. I hadn't heard of it happening for centuries.

  FENNEC: Comes up in this line of work now and then. Usually not for anything good.

  DARREN: I've sworn it once, years ago, before I met my wife. Was for a job, quiet work for a noble. He passed away later and I was released, ring cracked right off my finger, nothing to worry about. But one of the guys with me slipped some information a few months after we finished and was addled for the rest of his life.

  ME: Holy hell. Well, I guess it's an option, eh?

  DRIFTER: Mm.

  The conversation was less serious for the rest of the evening, then we retired to our room for the night.

  Up to that point I had not connected Drifter's rings to his condition, but I thought to analyze them at some point in the future. Perhaps it would be a clue as to his past. Who knows?