Kenseth paused a moment to survey the damage he and Angela had wrought, but other than two comatose bodies, it appeared no permanent damage had been done. Even the few spectators to the impromptu fight didn't appear interested enough to enquire as to the cause or seek officials to sort out the remains.
"Thank you again, Angela," said Kenseth. "But I'm afraid you have the best of me at the moment as you know who I am, but I have no idea who you are."
"Actually," said Angela, "Other than your name, I have no idea who you are or what you do. I only know I was sent to find you."
"To save the world, eh?" said Kenseth, his face breaking into an amused grin again.
"Exactly," replied Angela. "Shall we move on before these two decide to wake up? Or are you interested in getting in another fight?"
"Let's move on," said Kenseth, unwrapping his tattered shirt from his hand and putting it back on.
The two made their way back toward the south end of the square to a small building dark with age and stained with years of abuse. "I'd apologize for the building's appearance, but I had nothing to do with it," said Kenseth as he led Angela inside.
Once through the doors, the few patrons of the establishment, which looked vaguely to be some kind of armory, applauded Kenseth, who acknowledged them with a slight bow.
"Why were you fighting those men?" asked Angela.
"They insulted my friend, and I don't take kindly to people who insult my friends," he replied.
Kenseth walked behind the counter and began sorting through some piles of swords, belts, gloves, and other gear. "I believe you want to speak to me about matter of some importance," said Kenseth as he continued his search.
"You speak very well," said Angela. "I was expecting someone . . . . rougher."
Kenseth smiled as he pulled a long knife and sheath out from the pile and strapped it around his waist. "I have that effect on people," he said. "I am afraid my parents insist I be educated. I did my best to thwart their efforts, but to my chagrin, the lessons sunk in, and here I am, the smartest armorer's assistant in the city."
"You're an assistant?"
Kenseth smiled, "For now."
Angela surveyed the shop, noting a large variety of weapons along the wall. Flipping her long hair back over her shoulder, she smiled back. "You have secrets."
Kenseth shrugged, "As do you."
"I have one fewer now. My master, a powerful figure who wishes to remain anonymous at the moment, has tasked me to find you. You are the first person in a small group he wishes to assemble. The stakes are high, but the reward could be more than you could ever count."
Kenseth walked slowly around the counter and leaned up against it. "How do you know what I'm good at? How do you know I have any interest in leaving this shop?"
"I don't, but my master does," said Angela. "He said you're bored and that you've been waiting for something like this for awhile."
Kenseth nodded and looked up at the ceiling, "If only someone would relieve me of my boredom, except this already has been a pretty exciting day and I'm not sure what your 'master' has in mind for me. I prefer to know the people I work for."
At that moment, the wall to Kenseth's right began to grow a dark spot, which rapidly grew and began to coalesce into a spiral. The sound of muddy water slipping off of a high curb emanated from the spiral and a figure began to appear.
The figure, a tall man with iron grey hair, severe features and an imperious glare, solidified and stepped into the room, the portal closing behind him.
"Then I guess we'll talk here. Time, unfortunately, grows short," said the figure.
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