Ascher Kraw, Lord Captain of the Keepers of the Watch (KoW) sat in his saddle and surveyed the town quietly. He was in the shadows, as usual, watching the citizens go about their daily business with contentment. He enjoyed the peace of Occlo, even if it was far from the most quiet city to frequent. There always seemed to be activity of one form or another, but at least today the thieves weren't harrowing bank patrons and the Beggar's Guild was noticeably absent. Still, budding mages in training filled the air with their chants and the acrid fumes of burnt sulfur as they cast their columns of flame, hawkers pitched everything from bundled wool sheared off the long-haired Yew Ewes to fabled runic weapons of shattering power and mystery. This wasn't his city.... not really. None of them were. In fact, Ascher felt far more comfortable among the trees in the wilds than he did among brick and mortar buildings. But this was his watch to keep, and he meant to keep it. Still, there was the old and inescapable itch between his shoulder blades that told him he should be out riding the roads and the wild trails, where he was needed. The murderers, thieves, brigand and worse that harrowed travelers away from the watchful eyes of the King's Guard rarely braved the limits of town these days, making his skills here all but superfluous. Without intending to, Ascher overheard part of a conversation between two men near the bank. One was a younger man with strong shoulders who was complaining about blisters he'd earned while training with his axes and chopping trees. The Lord Captain couldn't help but smile as he remembered his own training period. The bruises, blisters, and broken bones he'd earned in Master Di'Eisel's weapon's yard had each served their purpose. If not for those days standing for hours on end with one foot raised, the other planted firmly on the three inch wide end of a twelve foot tall wood pole, he wouldn't have the balance and dexterity he did. If not for the thousands of steps he'd climbed to the Master's mountain tower north of Minoc, all the while balancing four barrels of water tied to a long pole and laid across his shoulders, he wouldn't have the strength to drive a spear through the thick hide of a Titan or a Cyclops. He'd hated those days sweating in the sun....bleeding and aching.... listening to the Master chastise him for a slow-witted slab handed fool, but he was thankful for them now. On a whim Ascher called up his own banker's box and rummaged through the various packs and boxes. Finally, he found what he was looking for.... A large battle axe crafted with expert precision from a deep bronze alloy. There were ancient runic markings etched along both blades and the shaft of the weapon and it pulsed softly in his hands. It had been given to him as a gift, though the Lord Captain was a man of the spear, Kryss, and bow....not an axe wielder himself. Still, the legend had it that this blade was crafted by a Mystical Power in an age long past, and he'd even been told that it was once wielded by the great Krolm the HausKarl himself. Ascher pulled his horse over to the young axe wielder in training and politely interrupted the conversation. "I couldn't help over hearing that you're working on building skills to swing an axe in combat," Ascher said after a brief introduction. He handed the runic weapon to the young man. "Take this and guard it well. One day I hope to see you swing it in battle." The young man's eyes went wide as he realized what he held. He stammered a thanks and tucked the axe into his bank. "When I was young I had quite a bit of help getting my feet under me," Ascher said as he tipped his hat to the man. "It's only fair to return the favor any time I can." Without another word, Ascher turned his mount and dug his heels into the horse's flanks. The hour was late and he had miles to go before his head found a pillow to rest. This watch was his, and he meant to keep it....
