True Freedom *Grayson promotion thread*

[Grayson]

A rhythmic clopping noise sounded in the vast flatness of the Sacaean plains. This noise emanated from the trained pace of a show horse trotting down a beaten path. Normally, these hooves were meant to be beating the ground of a circus or at a horse show for the rich and noble. But this particular steed had put those days behind him. His brilliant white coat was dusty from his travels and his black mane, cut short in his days touring in shows, was long and wiry.

There was a valid reason the horse had left his life exhibiting his beauty and skill. Years prior, he had been taken from the family that owned him. Stolen right from their stables. It was a tough life. His new owners cared not for his pedigree and grace. All that mattered was that he was a rich man's horse. The bandits that took him originally planned on selling him or holding a ransom. But upon discovering his magnificence, they decided to keep the steed.

Years passed. The bandits traveled from Lycia to Bern and one fateful day came when they decided to take a toll from the wrong group. The entire band was defeated and the horse found a new home. The serendipity did not end there. His new owner just so happened to be the only son of the family he was stolen from. A boy he had bonded with so many years ago. Now a man, he happened to be the archer in the group that defeated his captors.

Now reunited, the two were alone. Traveling together on the plains of Sacae. The man had left his group under unkind terms, but he didn't seem to the deterred by it. His companion was more concerned with the directive given to him by a mysterious stranger who knew everything about him. That was where the two found themselves at the moment. Following the advice of a man they had met only once.

Atop the horse, the man, named Grayson, rode with his long purple hair swaying in the strong breeze. He had gotten used to the winds on the plains. Ever since that tornado he survived, the forceful gusts that swept the hills felt like a gentle breeze to him. Though he did regret his hair being in the state it was. If there is one thing he hadn't gotten used to yet, it was his hair not being in it's usual shape. The shape being that of a bread roll on top of his head.

Still, it was uplifting to be on the road by himself. Just him and his horse, Mr. Cobblepot. Grayson would have never been able to survive on his own when he left his parent's manor so long ago. He left a spoiled noble, but rode down that road an adventurer. His skill with a bow had improved several times over as well. He was even starting to get the hang of shooting from atop his steed.

As Grayson reflected on how far he had come, a mounted rider quickly became visible over a hill the road followed down. The rider was galloping along so quickly that Grayson was soon able t make out the person atop the black horse. It was a woman. A fair woman with long, wavy red hair that trailed from her head like flames flickering in the wind. However, before he could get a better look, she had passed by him.

"Pardon me, stranger!" she shouted behind herself as she disappeared down the other side of the hill.

Grayson pondered for a moment as he continued to trot along the road. What was she in such a hurry about? She wasn't being chased. If she was then he'd be seeing her pursuers by now. Though he didn't have much time to think when the same wavy red hair caught his eye. Though this time it didn't belong to a woman, but a man. A man who looked like he was cut from the side of a mountain. This giant of a man lay against a tree, back arched over as if he had lost all hope. Or he was drunk. Grayson's curiosity got the better of him. He had to find out what this man's problem was! And if he was connected tot he woman he saw earlier.

The archer stopped his steed and slid out of the stirrups. He carefully walked to the man, Mr. Cobblepot following.

"Sir? Are you alright?" Grayson asked as he placed a hand on the man's shoulder. Mr. Cobblepot, taking a cue from his companion, nudged the other shoulder with his nose. It wasn't long before the large man began to stir and open his eyes.

[Grayson]

"Confound it! I told ye not ta..." the large man began, groaning as if being awoken from a comfortable sleep. He stopped as soon as he saw Grayson and Mr. Cobblepot. Once drowsy eyes suddenly opened wide. So wide that Grayson figured it must have hurt the man's eyelids. The giant looked around hurriedly in panic and then quickly jumped to his feet.

"Where am I?! Who're ye? I don'..." the man began to fall towards the tree, but shot out a meaty hand and stopped himself, "Why am I so dizzy? Me head hurts."

The archer, concerned for the man, tried to help. Tucking some purple hair behind his ears, he spoke.

"Well I guess I could help. For one, you're in Sacae and I am known as Grayson Pin--"

Grayson was cut off by a large hand being shoved in the direction of his face.

"Stop! Sacae? Really, Sacae?" came the commanding tone of the stranger. He turned around and slumped back against the tree, "I'm a long way from home this time. Must've been some serious drink that took me this far out. Cider, probably."

Grayson grew confused by the man.

"What do you mean by that? he asked in earnest.

"Huh? Oh, well I sometimes drink a wee bit much and I sometimes find meself wakin' up away from -- wait, why am I tellin' ye that?" the stranger snorted and looked at Grayson as if he were a puzzle, "What're ye doin' wakin' up a complete stranger in tha middle o' nowhere?"

"I was curious." the archer stated plainly, "You looked out of place. Plus, I saw a woman riding by as if she were running from something and the two of you sort of look alike."

Now it was the giant's turn to be confused.

"Ye know, lad. Yer makin' no sense. I don' know anyone who looks like me. Let alone a woman." he mentioned as he stood back up, "Okay. Startin' ta feel less dizzy. I'll be on me way, now."

The giant nudged Grayson out of his way as he clumsily walked down the hill the tree grew from. Though it didn't last long as he slowly tilted forward and into a roll down the rest of the incline. The archer quickly ran to catch him, but the man's weight was too much and he simply continued to barrel down the hill. When he finally stopped, facing the blue sky, he let out a lough fit of laughter.

"Just me luck! Me legs've gone all wobbly!" he waved at Grayson to motion him over, "Oh, purple lad! I might be needin' some help after all."

Perplexed at the man's sudden change in behavior, Grayson cautiously stepped to him and held out a hand. The giant's arm reached out an grasped his, dwarfing it in a way a lion would smother a cat. The archer was wary of his arm snapping as he helped the fiery haired man up, but thankfully it didn't. The man's other amazingly large arm wrapped around Grayson's shoulders and the archer helped the stranger back up the hill and against the tree.

"Thank ye, lad. Sorry fer me grumpiness earlier. I think tha drink is startin' ta wear off. Me legs gettin' like this usually means I'm almost sober. T'ain't as fun as bein' drunk, but at least I can walk!" another hearty laugh escaped itself from the man's belly. Grayson gave a nervous laughter in response.

"So where are you from? You mentioned being far from home." the archer asked with concern.

"Bern. Eastern Bern if'n yer wantin' specifics. And you, Mr. Purple?"

"Pherae." Grayson responded, "And I said my name before. it's Grayson Pintel."

The giant looked as if he'd insulted the archer.

"Me apologies, Mr. Pintel. Ye can call me Iorran. Iorran Graymantle."

"It's not a problem, Iorran. It's nice to meet you. I just came from bern, actually." it was then that Grayson got an idea. He was supposed to head to Etruria, but he wasn't told how quickly he was supposed to get there. Iorran looked as though he was about to fall over at any second. He had a horse and, though Mr. Cobblepot may protest to carrying such a heavy person, he could help this man at least get to the border. Grayson didn't like leaving drunken men out in the middle of nowhere.

"Perhaps I could help you get back? I know a good route."

Iorren looked up at Grayson with thanks in his eyes.

"Ye'd do that? Fer me? Well ta tell ye tha truth, I've never been this far from home so havin' a guide would be mighty helpful. Ye have a deal, Mr. Pintel!" Grayson once again helped the man up and assisted him into Mr. Cobblepot's saddle. The white steed snorted at the man's weight, but Grayson was able to calm him down.

"You can just call me Grayson." the archer mentioned as he stuffed the man's sword into one of Mr. Cobblepot's saddlebags. Slowly, but steadily, they began their way towards the Bern-Sacae border.

[Grayson]

The grasslands began to cool as the sun made its way behind the Ilian mountains. The two had made good time after Iorran sobered up and was able to hold on to Grayson who went from walking alongside his steed to riding him. Mr. Cobblepot didn't look pleased to be carrying such weight, but it wasn't anything the horse couldn't handle. The plains grew darker and darker as they closed in on the Bern border. A bit too dark to keep riding.

"I think we should make camp soon." the archer suggested. He was suddenly aware of movement behind him as Iorran pointed to the north.

"No need, lad! Look!" Grayson turned his head in the direction Iorran pointed. He could make out the newly lit fires of a town far off in the distance.

"Good eye. Hup!" Grayson yelled as he steered his steed toward the town and kicked his sides for more speed. A good ten minutes passed and the three finally reached the town walls. Or at least they looked sort of like walls. Crudely constructed, most likely in haste. Logs stood up with nets between them holding stones. It didn't look very sturdy. Upon passing to the other side, wooden scaffolding was revealed. Likely where the guards stood. If there were any guards to stand on them. In fact, the whole town was empty. The fires were burning, but not a single person milling about. An unsettling feeling pervaded the gravel roads of the tiny town. Eventually, they found what looked like an inn. The pair dismounted, equipped their belongings, and Grayson tied Mr. Cobblepot outside.

The door to the inn creaked loudly as they entered. Its thatched roof let the moonlight in, but there were still lamps and candles lit for light. At the desk stood a woman. She looked as though the pair's arrival meant her own doom. Grayson certainly didn't like the looks of things.

"Hello. Me and my companion would like a room." the poor woman was still struck by fright. Though, Grayson was finally able to work out that it wasn't their presence that was causing it. He'd seen this before on his travels from Bern.

"Where are they?" the archer said with a more serious tone, nearly whispering. It was about this time that Iorran noticed the signs as well. A giant hand wrapped around the scabbard that held his sword.

"I-I don't know what you mean, sir." the innkeep replied, trying to act as if everything were normal. Grayson sighed. She wasn't going to tell him. However, fortune had it that she didn't have to. The sound of steel leaving its scabbard caused him to turn his head to find Iorran with his sword at the throat of a man wielding a dagger.

"Not a good choice, lad. Drop it." the man smirked and ducked low, afterwards jumping up to attack the giant. But he was obviously in over his head as Iorran grasped the assailant's ankle and threw him through the inn's open window. Iorran casually stepped out the door and pointed the tip of his blade at the man's neck. Grayson followed, bow in hand and fingers on an arrow in his quiver.

"Now we're gonna try this again. Get on yer way and leave us be." Iorran warned. The man simply began to laugh. Grayson leaned in close to his companion's ear.

"He isn't alone. I've seen this before. Bandits who occupy a town in order to rob stray visitors." Grayson was right. He watched as more than a dozen armed men emerged from the homes around them. The archer readied an arrow and stood back to back with Iorran after the giant made sure to knock out the man on the ground.

"Well look on tha bright side. At least this trip didn't turn out ta be a borin' one."

"Indeed." Grayson replied with a smirk.

[Grayson]

"I think we picked the wrong town, don't you?" Grayson yelled at his companion as a arrow flew past his head. Taking it upon himself to challenge the archer that just shot at him, he aimed in the direction the arrow was fired at him, spying a man in leather armor with a short bow, "Armor?! No fair!" the immature archer protested. But still he fired. The arrow flew true, but his aim was off, sinking into the left leg of the bandit. Though it did keep him from moving freely. Grayson readied another arrow and fired. However, this time, the arrow was caught in mid air by a man brandishing a thin blade. Grayson's eyes shot wide open out of surprise and he bolted to Iorran. Jumping over and ducking from swings coming from the bandits around them, he quickly reached his companion.

"What now?" asked Iorran, resuming their previous back to back stance.

"Well we're dealing with at least one guy who can catch arrows, for starters."

"Catch what?!"

"You heard me. Though I doubt it's all that difficult. My bow isn't exactly tightly strung."

It was then that a large man with an axe barreled forward past his fellow bandits and took a swing at Grayson. The nimble acrobat rolled away, hoping Iorran would notice. He did, meeting the axe with his sword. He seemed as if he were missing something. Such a large man shouldn't be having such difficulty fighting, but he looked as though he were off. It want' an injury. At least Grayson hoped it wasn't. Though that wasn't the time to be pondering. That fact was punctuated by a blade slicing the archer across the arm. He needed higher ground. There was no way he was going to get a good shot if he were constantly being assaulted by these ruffians. Grayson made for one of the lower buildings in the square, doing well to avoid bandits on the way. He nearly reached it when a man with a spear decided to block his path. Though Grayson simply chuckled at the man's audacity.

"You think you can stop me with a stick?" the archer asked as he continued to run at the man. He thrust at Grayson who deftly avoided it by breaking into a slide underneath the man's legs. As he reached the man's back, he grasped the shaft of the spear and pulled it downward, yanking he bandit around. He then used what little momentum he had left to jump up and stick the business end of the weapon into the ground, wresting it from the bandit's hands. A perfect way for him to reach the roof of the building next to them. Grayson grasped the shaft and hopped up so his feet were planted on the wall. Running along the wall with the bandit trying to pull his weapon out, he gathered the momentum to perform an handstand at the top of the shaft and then vault himself to the thatched roof which, thankfully, did not crumble with his landing.

The confused bandit finally pulled the spear from the earth, and looked for where Grayson had gone. Though he never found him. A few seconds after he finally freed his weapon, an arrow was poking through his neck. Grayson looked on to see Iorran fending off the bandits valiantly. He still seemed off, but it was apparent that one with as much muscle as he could take quite a few hits. Readyign another arrow, he exhaled, relieved he was finally at a good spot to shoot from.

[Grayson]

Grayson was nearly dumbfounded by what Iorran was able to do. He wasn't so much doing damage, but what he was able to do was stay on his feet when blow after blow was being delivered to him. For one wearing so little armor other than chainmail and a pauldron, he was shocked. It was like watching a pack of small dogs attempt to bring down a grizzly. Then, he saw something change. As if he spotted something he needed. The warrior bounded at a small bandit holding a shield and spear.

"That'll be mine, lad!" Grayson heard his companion shout. The archer fired at a bandit nearly on Iorran's heels, sinking the arrow into his shoulder. When he was able to pay attention to Iorran again, he watched as he flipped the man upside down and yanked his shield, which was actually a decent size on the giant, from him. It was as if a new fire was ignited within the man. Holding his new shield forward, he slammed into a pair of bandits and forced them against a wall. He brought the shield up with a roar and dislodged their heads from their necks, leaving them rolling uselessly around their shoulders.

Grayson had little time to watch in bewilderment at the beast of a man, however. He noticed movement on the rooftops. Unfortunately for the archer, it happened to be the swordsman who caught his arrow earlier. Grayson liked to think himself a smart man. He knew when to fight and when to run and this was one time to run. Though he wasn't fast enough on his reaction to avoid a slash across the chest. Thankfully, Grayson jumped backward and only a portion of the blade hit its mark. Still, the cut was made and he staggered back a moment. Another slash was made at him, but he was able to bound away. The archer rolled and leaped to another rooftop and ran as fast as his legs would take him. If that swordsman got close enough, Grayson would likely wind up a good foot shorter. Another gap between buildings presented itself, but it happened to be the inn the two were going to stay at. The acrobat smirked knowingly. He leaped for the gap and landed again. This time, though, he stopped to take out an arrow and broke off most of the shaft on his knee. Then, waving at the swordsman on his tail, he took a leap off the roof... right into Mr. Cobblepot's saddle.

"Ready for some fun, buddy?" he asked his steed while cutting the rope that tied it to the inn with the tip of the arrow he broke. Once free, Grayson took the reigns and galloped to a safe distance. He gave his horse's neck three pats and Mr. Cobblepot began to gallop on his own in a wide circle. Grayson's heart was racing. This was the first time he would try this in real combat. His nerves caused his hands to shake, but he knew to turn that into a rush of adrenaline and steady his aim. He took out a new arrow and aimed for the swordsman who was still trying to grasp what just happened. Grayson had only a few moments before his enemy would be on his tail again and the roughness of his steed's gallop made it difficult to aim, but he had to make the shot. The horseman stood up in his stirrups and exhaled. The world seemed to slow down at that moment. Perhaps it was the adrenaline or perhaps the moment just felt like an eternity in retrospect, but that shot took what felt like hours. Finally, the arrow sunk itself deep into the swordsman's hip, likely dislocating it or worse. Not the kind of shot Grayson was going for, but it was better than right out missing.

The archer knew that he needed to use Mr. Cobblepot's power to assist Iorran. That swordsman wouldn't be walking for at least a while. Grayson put his bow away and grasped the reigns again. A flick of the reigns and a loud whoop and the white steed barreled forth into the crowd. The horse reared back and sent a hoof each into the heads of two bandits occupied with killing his companion. Speaking of Iorran, Grayson finally got a good look at him again and he wasn't looking good. His clothing was all cut up and ripped and he was bleeding from most of his exposed skin. However, the man continued to fight on.

The two continued to fight until every bandit was left with their faces in the dirt. Grayson was even able to land a couple more shots.

[Grayson]

After all the dust settled, the two stood victorious. Heads began to peek out from the windows of the various buildings. Iorran put his guard back up, but Grayson placed a hand on the giant's shoulder. The two looked at each other and the archer shook his head. Out stepped several people from each home and business. They looked around, making sure the bandits were, indeed, dead. After some checking and turning over of bodies, one old man turned to look at their saviors and cheered. The rest of the town joined him and they crowded around Grayson and Iorran.

"Young men! You have no idea what you have done for us! Our small town has been plagued by those ruffians for months! Now we can return to our lives before we were forced into harboring those men." a woman who looked to be the head of the town spoke to both of them. Grayson felt something in his chest he hadn't felt before. It felt heavy, but in a way that made him want to jump in the air. Was this pride? Of course, he wouldn't have been able to save the town without Iorran, but he still played a part. '

"What are your names?" shouted another villager.

"Iorran!" the giant shouted back. He didn't seem to be reeling as much as Grayson was. Perhaps he did this kind of thing more often? Then came a strong slap on the archer's back. Iorran was urging him on to give his name.

"Um... Grayson. Grayson Pintel." he coughed.

-----

The two were treated to free rooms at the inn. Iorran immediately went to bed, but Grayson couldn't sleep. He was amazed by what he did that day. He remembered the first time he killed a man those months ago. He was so scared. And the day he joined Rayl's company in Pherae. He was just a curious bystander then. So much had changed about him he barely knew himself anymore. But perhaps he was always like this? He always dreamed of adventuring and saving people from tyrants and bandits. Just like the heroes he read about. Grayson wasn't ready to look for Aaron just yet. He decided that he needed to do more of this. Become a man to be proud of. When he next met Aaron, he would be a true hero. A true hero unbound by prophesies. The only word he needed to obey now was freedom.

-----

Grayson hadn't been able to get much sleep, but he was woken up by Iorran.

"Ey, Grayson. There's a package fer ye." he was given a bundle of things wrapped in linen. To it was pinned a note.

I hope your choice leads you well. If you ever falter, seek me out.

Could it be? Was the package from Hartun? He wasn't sure, but he hastily opened it. Inside was a set of leather bracers and greaves, a new tunic and cloak, and, to Grayson's delight, a can of the pomade he lost.

"No way!" he shouted. Grayson immediately changed into the new clothes and put on his new armor, along with the brigandine and pauldron he purchased in Bern. Standing in front of a mirror, he took a palmful of pomade and gingerly shaped his hair. Bit by bit it formed until it was finally in a shape he was pleased with. The archer wanted to cry out of joy. Then he noticed something new. He hadn't shaved in a long while. He was never one that was able to grow much facial hair so he was about to ask for a razor to shave, but he decided not to at the last minute. There was something about the stubble that adorned his chin. It looked rugged. Adventurous. He felt it was fitting to his new persona.

He was also given his pick of the spoils from the fight. All he took was the short bow that archer had. He left the rest for the villagers to have or sell. After a few minutes of constant laughter from Iorran about Grayson's hair and some goodbyes from the townspeople, they were off. One more day passed and Iorran was dropped off at the Bern-Sacae border. Normally, Grayson would have asked to keep going with him, but this time he wanted to roam alone for a while. There were more adventures to be had and he felt they were to be had elsewhere.