Crossed

The First Step on a Long and Winding Road

"You have a lot of balls walking in here after what you did."

The sword armed mercenary stood before a very disgruntled sheriff.

"Hey, a job completed is a job completed is it not?" Responded the mercenary, smugly.

"You destroyed the damn church! If you think I'm paying you your full pay you should walk out of here right now."

"I recall our contract being 25 gold for killing the beast, 5 gold off for damage to the church and an additional 5 gold for injuries."

"Injuries?!"

"Aaah..." The mercenary stretched a bit and winced in pain. "I'm feeling a bit sore today..."

"You fu-"

The mercenary's smug face dropped instantly.

"Now now, calm down sheriff, you wouldn't want the inquisition paying you a visit for denying a holy man his pay."

The sheriff gritted his teeth as a sour expression enveloped his face.

"You- f-fine, I'll give you your damn pay, but gather your things immediately. Never return to this town again, and don't you dare threaten me."

The mercenary's near-ever-present smug smile returned to his face.

"Thank you sir, of course, I'll be sure to heed your advice."

The mercenary outstretched his hand which was promptly filled with a bag of 25 gold. After counting and feeling the texture of the pieces he found himself satisfied. He walked over to the door, took his belongings, and bowed to the sheriff.

"Have a wonderful day, my dear sheriff."

He merrily trotted through the streets after leaving the sheriff's office. Walking at a leisurely pace through the town with the backdrop of a half destroyed church, he was happy. He hardly even paid attention to the few insults that were flung at him from irate townspeople and their hateful glares. He had completed his job and gotten paid, and at the end of the day the monster had been defeated, what more could he want-

Just then, a fist-sized rock was flung at him from a muscular nearby man. On a direct course towards him, the mercenary did not move. In fact, his expression was only that of disappointment despite the relatively impressive rock throw. Like a flash of lightning, he drew an ornate sword and sliced the rock in half midair, a whirring sound echoing from the blade. Many of the onlookers were now agasp at the display, and the mercenary only nodded to the man. There were no more insults or objects thrown after that.

The mercenary soon reached the edge of the town and started walking towards the villages and cities beyond. As the morning sun shone down upon him, his appearance could be clearly seen. He wore dark clothing, tight fitting but comfortable, with its fair share of leather adorning various parts of it to defend him against whatever he may face. A shawl-like covering covered his shoulders and upper torso, also adorned with leather belts, although this seemed less for practical reasons and instead for the aesthetics of the outfit. His body was lean but muscular, strands of hair fell down to slightly veil parts of a face that would not have looked out of place on any imagination of a dashing rogue.

Despite his rakish appearance, he was no typical mercenary, he was a holy warrior known as a dervish. A white metal cross with a circle behind it that was clearly visible below his shawl presented such information in full, the classic symbol of such dervishes. They were not like paladins, they were warriors who unceasingly followed the teachings despite not being blessed with holy power. After his training among holy teachers, he was no longer known by any name he had in the past, he was now Nicholas Red, and had pledged to fight the evil of the world unceasingly.

Throughout the afternoon and morning he continued to trek the roads that connected the various towns and cities, keeping himself occupied with one of the few books he brought along on his journey. If one is to understand the holy teachings, they must read them, of course. At about mid-afternoon, a travelling merchant, equipped with both horse and carriage, slowly caught up to him.

"I see you're travelling alone, vagrant." The merchant said without provocation.

"Indeed, I have no need for companionship, and it seems neither do you." Nicholas responded.

"Mhm, quite so. I find much time to think on these lonely roads." The merchant glanced down towards the cross hanging from Nicholas's neck. "Ah, tell me, are you a holy warrior yourself?"

"Indeed, but not a paladin, just a simple dervish."

"Well dare I say, that makes me feel much more safe." He laughed heartily. "Tell me dervish, are you trekking these roads on your way to a mission?"

"No, I've just completed one, I hope to find more business in yonder towns."

"If you're looking for business, the town to the left of an upcoming crossroads has been calling for powerful warriors for a few weeks. I believe it's called Nilshire, perhaps you'd find a worthy quarry there."

"Hmmm, powerful warriors... I do like the sound of that invitation, thank you."

"Haha, no problem! I've seen the amazing work you warriors do, I couldn't be more glad to help."

If only those in the town I just left had the same opinion. Nicholas thought to himself.

The merchant continued. "In fact, I'm heading there at this very moment, if you'd like to sit in the carriage I'd be willing to oblige. It's not too comfortable, but it'd allow you to rest your legs."

"Ah, no, surely it'd be best not to burden you."

"It is no burden at all! Join me, wayward traveler."

Nicholas did not need much more prodding and hopped into his carriage. In the final hours of the afternoon Nicholas traveled with the merchant to Nilshire as they continued to make conversion with one another.