kscans

Encounter

1

Venn Urill dismounted from his beloved horse Satra at the gate. Usually, a page or servant would have come to take his horse, but there was no sign of anyone. Something must be wrong. Venn’s keen senses had long detected that something was amiss within the vast estate of Count Linz, though he didn’t know exactly what was occurring.

After taking Satra to the stable himself and securing him to the hitching post, he headed toward the source of the commotion.

“Ah, it’s Lord Venn Urill!”
“Lord Venn Urill has returned!”

The mansion’s servants parted to make way as Venn strode forward.

Near the entrance of one of the guest wings, a disheveled man was holding a young maidservant from behind. He was clutching a knife in his right hand, pressing it erratically against the girl’s neck and chest as he trembled with agitation.

The servants explained that the man had fallen into debt, resulting in his tools of trade, a horse and cart, being seized as collateral. Drunk and desperate, he had forced his way into the mansion, demanding the return of his possessions. When the butler explained that the master, Simon Epibares, was away and the property couldn’t be returned, the man lost his temper. He grabbed the nearest maidservant and now threatened her life while demanding his tools back.

The situation was straightforward. They needed to subdue the man. But his drunken instability and the weapon he wielded made any careless intervention dangerous for the hostage. No one dared to approach.

Venn Urill calculated the distance between himself and the man. He could close the gap and knock away the knife in a single breath, but there was no guarantee the blade wouldn’t catch the girl in that instant. Nine times out of ten, he could save her without injury. But that remaining possibility made him hesitate.

If only that knife would move just a bit further from the girl, he could rush in and end this.

2

Venn Urill was a Wandering Knight.

Though few know it, he carries royal blood from a distant land. Or rather, no one who knows him as Venn Urill knows his true identity.

His homeland fell to an unjust invasion. A small portion of his people, led by their surviving leaders, managed to cross the eastern flow of the Ova River and established a settlement in the frontier. That town became Venn’s sole comfort in his darkest hours.

When he learned that some of his people were living as slaves in the Central Plains, he spent years tracking them down and freeing them, providing funds to send them to the frontier town. He took on dangerous mission to earn that money, and even serving as an assassin. His efforts earned him the name “Red Raven.”

After finding all his scattered people, Venn discovered he had a niece, born in secret, who faced her own troubles. Her predicament required money to resolve.

He searched for work in the eastern territories but found nothing. With time running short before the promised day, Venn placed his trust in the gods and offered himself into service. To his surprise, a buyer, Bard Rowen, appeared. Though Bard could only offer a tenth of what Venn had hoped for, something told him this was meant to be. The amount proved to be exactly what his niece needed in her hour of crisis.

Venn saw it as divine providence. The gods had shown him purpose when he had lost all direction after completing his life’s mission. From that day forward, he dedicated himself to Bard Rowen’s service.

3

Having crossed back to the east of the Ova, Venn was instructed to wait for Bard’s messenger at Count Simon Epibares’ estate. To repay the Count’s hospitality, he assisted with Simon’s affairs.

He had just returned from escorting a merchant caravan, with another escort job already arranged. They had negotiated a favorable price for southern spices in exchange for Venn’s protection on the journey. But first, he needed to handle this crisis with the hostage-taker.

As Venn watched for an opening, he noticed some movement on the second-floor balcony. Someone was concealed there, their presence barely detectable. Anyone else would have missed them entirely.

The hidden figure realized Venn had spotted him and caught his eye. Venn gave a slight nod.

Without warning, the figure revealed himself and leaped from the balcony. The crowd gasped in surprise. The perpetrator turned to look up, but by then, the jumper had already dropped below his line of sight and was sprinting towards Venn. In his hand was the knife he had somehow stolen from the perpetrator in that brief instant.

In that moment, Venn realized he had met someone who could match his own extraordinary speed.

Venn was already moving. One breath was all he needed to reach the perpetrator. By the time the man turned back around, the pommel of the magic sword Van Fleur had found its mark in his solar plexus.

As the servants rushed to secure the assailant and tend to the maid, the man who had jumped from the balcony approached Venn with a grin.

“Hey there! I’m Jurchaga. And you are?”

“I am Venn Urill. Jurchaga? Then you must be Master’s messenger?”

A shadow passed briefly over Jurchaga’s face at these words. Venn noticed but wouldn’t understand its significance until much later.

“Master? I’m just one of Lord Bard’s people. What exactly are you?”

“I am a man in Lord Bard’s service.”

“In his service? Wait… Venn Urill? Ah! Are you the ‘Red Raven’?”

“It seems I’ve earned that name. And you’re known as the ‘Rotten Flesh Hunter,’ I hear.”

The title referred to commoners who dared to eat meat, particularly those who scavenged nobles’ leftovers, a practice strictly forbidden by custom and law.

“That’s right. I’m quite the gourmet, you see.”

At that moment, Simon, who had returned during the commotion, joined them.

“Ah, Jurchaga, you’ve arrived. I see you’ve met Venn Urill.”

After proper introductions, Venn agreed to join Jurchaga once his caravan escort duty was complete. Though they parted ways then, fate would ensure that they joined Bard’s group at precisely the right moment.