Aston:

The sunlight hit my eyes, waking me up. The ground seemed oddly comfortable today, and the sleeping bag was extra cozy. I’d need to make a note of where I feel asleep, so I could keep an eye out for it again.

Actually opening my eyes revealed that where I had fallen asleep was a bedroom, and the nice, comfortable ground was, in fact, a bed. I would have to examine my life choices, later, to determine whether I made enough money for it to be acceptable to be surprised by waking up in a bed. A sharp knocking interrupted my thoughts.

“Aston, hurry up!” Emett called from outside the door. My brain struggled to remember why it knew this name for a moment, before it actually decided to start working.

“What’s the hurry?” I asked, snuggling deeper into the bedsheets. “We’re not on a time crunch, let me sleep in.”

“Lyn got us a caravan into the Capital, but it’s leaving shortly.” Emett responded. “You can be on it, or you can walk.”

“Urgh, fine,” I responded, not yet ready to leave what may be the last bed I sleep in for a while. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be down.”

“You better be,” Emett responded. “We leave in fifteen.”

I began the process of extricating myself from my bed, getting dressed, and packing up with all the speed I could muster, arriving outside the inn just as Emett and Lyn were about to give up waiting for me.

“Excellent,” I said, “I seem to be right on time.”

“We’re late.” Lyn said, and started walking toward the town gates.

“We’re three of the Disciples,” I countered, following her. “They’ll wait.”

“Actually,” Lyn said, “I only told Gustav that I was The Armsmaster. I wanted to keep the two of you also being Disciples under my hat, if I could.”

“Do you not trust him?” Emett asked.

“I trust him as much as I can trust a merchant I met yesterday,” Lyn replied, “but he said there was Apostate activity on the route, so I figure it’s better if there’s only one publicly known Disciple. If they do come for me, it’ll be in smaller numbers, and they’re likely to be outmatched. We may even be able to nip them in the bud early.”

Nip them in the bud? “What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, the Apostates are generally a nuisance at the beginning of each new Round, before the Disciples and Paragon actually amass power, right? Lyn started explaining. “If we can lure them into an absolute trouncing, we might convince them we’re more powerful than we actually are, and get them out of our hair early.”

Emett grunted. “That sounds like a bit of a gamble. Is this a worthy gambit, or are you telling me to catch another bomb?”

“I don’t see a way around it, really,” I said. “I’m surprised you’re considering the notion, though, Emett.”

“Lyn has good ideas from time to time,” Emett sighed. “The Apostates are an inevitability we’ll have to deal with, and with her plan we’re at least attempting to get ahead of them, instead of just reacting.”

“So, what is the plan?” I asked. “Lyn baits them into attacking her, and she murders them as terrifyingly as possible?”

“No,” Lyn said. “First, no killing. We need them to tell a story.”

Emett cleared his throat. “We are also not killing them because murder is wrong.”

“Right, sure.” Lyn did not sound convinced with Emett’s reasoning. “Second, we all team up and beat them up.”

“Extreme show of force?” I asked.

Lyn nodded. “As excessive as possible.”

“We are going to get along grand.” I said.

We arrived at the gates of the town, and quickly spotted a caravan hooking up its dragons to the wagons. Perfect timing, it appeared. A large, jolly-looking man approached Lyn. “So I’m assuming the blond one is your brother,” he said, pointing at Emett. “Who’s the other?”

Lyn looked at me. “That’s Aston. He helped us out on the way here, and is also heading to the capital, so I figured we’d take him with us, assuming you have the room.”

The man laughed a hearty belly-laugh. I can see why Lyn trusted him, everything about him was just… friend-shaped. “The more, the merrier! Of course we have room for a friend of The Armsmaster.” He waved Lyn over to the other side of the caravan. “Come over here, Lyn, and I’ll introduce you to the mercs.”

Lyn followed the man, and I took the opportunity to get my pack into the caravan, glad to be travelling without its weight on my back. I walked around to the front of the caravan, greeting the dragons. This wagon would be pulled by two of them, one green, the other yellow. The top of my head went up to about their shoulders; large animals, to be sure, but not nearly as large as whatever had come out of the ruins. I reached up and gave one a scratch between the horns on the top of its head. The dragon purred contentedly, stretching its vestigial wings. I wondered if I should ask if it had any big brothers or sisters, but decided I would be unlikely to get a meaningful answer from a creature that can’t speak.

Before long, I had settled into a rather uncomfortable wagon seat across from mercenaries, Greg and Sarah or something like that. Uncomfortable, but better than walking.

We had only been on the road for an hour or so before the explosion. Why was it always explosions with these people? The mercenaries quickly filed out of the wagon, with Lyn and Emmet close behind.

The dragons attached to the first wagon were stopped in front of the smoldering remains of what had been the road. Up the path, a single woman stood, fire dancing in her hands. “Travel to the Capital is prohibited until the Disciples are found,” she says.

“What?” Gustav asked. “Under whose authority?”

“Under the authority of the Apostates,” she said. The flame in her hands flared as she spoke. “Are you going to try to make an issue of it?”

“Me? Never,” Gustav said. “I’m just a humble merchant.”

“I think I will, though,” Lyn said.

“Oh,” the Apostate said. “What are you going to do, little girl?”

“Little girl?” Lyn asked, clearly irritated. “I am The Armsmaster, and I do believe it’s my duty to end you.”