The road fare better on the warm light of the sun. Far from the cold winters of death, the lonely Crimsonier, Aviel Amion, had been on a long journey, liberated and unchallenged with his new found freedom. He could get use to the lifestyle without the Masters to tie him down, following his own path rather to follow others.

Days ever since he slew a group of vile, bestial beasts of blackguards from the camp, he cannot help but wonder of the brown rodent, rescued and wounded and left alone to its fate. He slightly regretted over the decision, but whatever choices that were made it didn't matter in the end. The only choice was that he had to live with it, moving forward among the many bad decisions from the past.

Although the brown rodent could have survive the injuries, he wasn't well sure to be the case.

Amion looted the campsite with much food and supplies that would last him for a week. Along with a sum of wealth and jewelry that he pilfered, there was a fine set armor with a full wolfen helmet that strangely fit his size.

And then Amion came with a revelation. He was the last member of the Order.

With the Order destroyed from out and within, duty compels him that the Order must survive whatever the cost. However, without the proper tools or the right procedure, the chances to make a new one from scratch was improbable at best. Yet if it were to be the case, he wanted no part to rebuild an Order based upon lies and corruption. He refused outright to support a group that betrayed him and the thousand of lives lost to the master's greed.

As an act of defiance, Amion sundered his red garments, burning the definition of the Order to dust and ash. He had come to accept his new role in life and disguised as a mercenary that resembled of a wolf. With a full proper attire to hide his face, he could live among the animal folk without fear or suspicion of his unusual appearance. While he was tolerant with the animals, the animals may not accept a human that was strange and odd to them. For now, he didn't mind to conceal his identity, but if he want to mingle with the crowd then he must learn of this world and of the inhabitants.

Across the extent mile of the land, Amion observed that the nation was a unified with different types of species. From every shape and size, nobles, peasants and merchants alike displayed a wide array of humanlike qualities, practicing an old tradition long abandon in his world. While he studied the animals at a respectable distant, he discovered which race that held the most influence. Four in fact.

There were four great clans that supported the nation and the king. From the four there was the Rabbit, the Bear, the Wolf and the Rat.

The banner of the Rabbit had a distinct yellow with two of its kin grasp upon the flag. Suggesting otherwise by the traits of an animal, Amion would have to guess the rabbits to be mere diggers, architects and seekers to expand their territory underneath the soil.

The banner of the Bear had a pleasant green with a single creature, holding a flowery staff and two strange symbols from each side. One was a tree from the right while the left was the sun. Amion pondered to the definition of the banner, but guessed likely that the Bear Clan held nature above all else.

The banner of the Wolf had a bold blue with a ferocious beast in the center. Amion had nothing to say about them other than how he was annoyed that his homeland adopted the beast as a symbol of power. He'd seen countless lords, countless armies and countless fools accept the wolf, uninspiring and dull. He suspected that the actual wolves were different, strong and ferocious and overall ruthless with efficient prowess for combat. An opponent that he wanted to avoid.

And the last banner of the Great Four was a Rat, vibrant red, bright as the wine, with its kin the middle that balance on a round object, holding a thorn-flower with a paw while the other a sword with its tail. It was no brainer for Amion to think that the Rat clan were a group of deceptive, untrustworthy creatures that no animal would trust a word about them. He laughed at such statement. While it was true rats were detestable creatures, he admire them with a curious glance. Rats were cunning, witty enough to know which to act. They prefer to strike in the shadows, unseen and  unknown rather to be known and die by a tougher predator like the wolf or the bear.

Amion could recall the Crimsoniers were built under the influence of the rat, hiding from the shadow, crafting lies and half-truths whenever or wherever possible. To his opinion, the Crimsoniers were a deceptive and untrustworthy bunch, but of a good kind.

While Amion was fascinated of the animals and the many cultures that inhabited them, they had also a unique language that was foreign to him. At the road, resting under an oak tree, he came to meet a strange deer with a pouch full of letters. The deer spoke, like the many of the land, a sharp, but distinct language. He didn't understand the deer at the time and instead pointed an aimless direction.

To study the language take months, even years to fully develop the certain enlightenment to react with clarity. Fortunately for a Crimsonsier, Amion could accomplish that task in less than two weeks. If focus upon the task.

One of the many benefits of being a Crimsonier was his innate talent to translate other languages at an impeccable rate. Credited by the powers of the stone called the Heart, the Crimsoniers became the whisperers of a hundred worlds, grand polyglots to the Scarlet Order. While the Crimsoniers served with distinction as emissaries and diplomats, they served as undercover agents, spies and saboteurs that undermine enemies into submission. 

Crimsoniers, masters of the flame as well as masters of subterfuge.

It took an entire week for Amion to understand the language, listening and hearing the many animals that he come to meet. He began with small words, imitated and repetitive phrases. Later words became a sentence and sentences became speeches.

Amion was confidant of his progress that he made a short conversation around the animals, gaining bits of rumor and knowledge. With his supplies ran out, he was ready to head out to the village, a town called Blueberry.

Overflowed with surety, Amion march straight to the town, knowing that he was prepared for the trouble ahead.

Just from the front gatehouse there was a tremendous boom in the town, bustled with life and wonder. Colorful sounds and interest from every street overcome with undisputed energy, where any animal from new or old come seek on their usual business.

Amion's perfect disguise among the animals worked like a charm. Outfitted as a common mercenary, he manage to pass through the gatehouse without a problem. While into the crowded street, he stumbled upon a tavern with a sign that he cannot read. Amion was able to speak to the animals with clarity, but he was a poor reader with no practice or text to study. If he had a book or two then he would manage in just three weeks.

Amion went inside to found the tavern to be full with customers and patrons overflowing over the room, talking, laughing and singing merryful song in the mix. He felt several curious glances among the animals when he entered, but paid little no mind of them.

“Welcome to the Lucky Foot, stranger?" A random voice called out.

Amion eyed at the bar where the source of the voice came from. Behind the bar was a rat, a barkeeper, wearing a white simple dress with hair tied behind her back.

The rodent lady made a pleasant smile. “Can I get you anything, darling?"

“Not at the moment." Amion replied. “Although I do need some information regarding some supplies for the journey."

“A journey, you say? My, my, you must be the busy type of sort. Where are you heading off to?"

“Just wherever the path take lead me."

“So you're a wanderer then? You must have some good stories in your trip."

Amion made a light chuckle “Nothing but the ordinary, my dear, but if I did I'll tell you about it."

The rodent lady smiled in return. “I cannot wait to hear it. If you are looking for some supplies there is a nice place just a couple of blocks ahead. They sell at a fair discount. Also check out on a store from the hill. I hear the potion sell a mean kind of goods."

Amion appreciated of the advice. “You are but too kind."

The rodent lady shrugged playfully. “Meh, just helping out anyone who needed the assistance. Us adventurers needed to stick out together, you know."

“Ah, an adventurer. Cannot wait to hear yours."

“Like you said…nothing but the ordinary. Now get out of here, you." The rodent lady gestured, shooing him away. “I've customers to attend to. You're wasting time and money."

Amion slightly bowed and exited the tavern on good terms. He then later heeded the advice of the tavern keeper to head straight for the supplier. The information was gold. The supplier, a merchant badger, had just what he needed at a considerable and fair price. He bought the supplies with gold that he looted from the blackguard camp.

With his purpose fulfilled, Amion headed toward to the hill that was suggested by the pig-tailed rodent lady. He was indeed curious to what the Potion Seller had to offer and wasted no time on his next destination.

The shop on the hill was far from remote of the town with little to no contact. At first, Amion thought the trip to be a joke and that the information was outright false, but as he reach to the top of the hill his suspicion cease to exist.

There were a couple of customers just outside of the shop, returning back to the town with a bag of several vials. Amion couldn't deny that the customers were satisfied in their transaction.

Amion entered the shop to find the shop to be full of bottles and vials, unique, but strange in its own right. From different types of color up to shape and size, the shop had a remarkable collection. He had no idea what was written on the label though.

“Can I help you, sir?"

Amion heard a small voice and craned his head down to find an adorable deer, a beastie, wearing green clothes with a red flower behind its ear. He had to admit that he did not suspect a small creature to be the owner of the shop.

“Are you by chance the owner of the shop?" Amion asked, kneeling down to meet eye contact.

The small deer smiled and nodded. “The one and only. Langsat is my name and don't wear it out. How can I help you today, sir…?"

“Amion, little one. I've been told that this is where I could buy your strongest potion. Is that true?"

“Indeed, good sir, indeed you are correct!" Langsat the deer winked. “We had the best of the best among the rest. Nothing could beat us in our game."

Amion smiled and stood up on his feet to check on one of the bottle. “I am glad to hear that. Potion Seller, I am going on a journey and I want your strongest potion."

Langsat mood shifted unexpectedly from being kind and cheerful to being serious and observant. She observed at the person in front of her, wearing plated armor behind a wolfen mask. “Hmm, my potions are too strong for you, traveler."

Amion paused and turned at her with an arch eyebrow. “Potion Seller, I tell you I am going on a journey,and I want only your strongest potions."

Langsat sadly sighed and shook her head, jumping at an empty to meet eye contact. “You can't handle my potions. They're too strong for you."

Amion couldn't help but to chuckle in silent. He knew that shop owner was playing a joke. “Potion Seller, listen to me; I want only your strongest potion. Isn't it more than I ask for?"

“My potions would kill you, sir Amion. You cannot handle my potions." Langsat said with a serious look on her face.

Amion was beginning to doubt that the shop owner wasn't kidding at all. “Alright, enough of these games, Potion Seller. I'm going on a journey, far than I could ever known. I just want to know of your strongest potion."

“My strongest potions would kill you, traveler." Langsat boldly declared, quick upon her decision. “You can't handle my strongest potions. You'd better go to a seller that sells weaker potions!"

Amion cannot believe what he was hearing. Earlier, the deer was about to offer the best deal at hand only to be rebuffed by her refusal. “Potion Seller! I'm minding you right now; I'm going to a far away place and I need your strongest potions!"

“You don't know what you ask, traveler!" Langsat stomped her hoof on the table. “My strongest potions will kill a dragon let alone a man. You need a seller that sells weaker potions, because my potions are too strong!"

Amion wondered what was inside of the potions. “Potion Seller, I'm telling you this right now that I need your strongest potions! I'm going into a dangerous peril that I may or not come back. I need your strongest potions!"

“You can't handle my potion strongest potions!" Langsat raised her voice, glaring at him with angry expression. “No one can! My strongest potions are fit for a God let alone a man."

Amion was at a bind, lost and confused of the owner's peculiar attempt. He then decided to try a different tactic. “Potion Seller, please tell me, what must I do to get your potions? Why won't you trust me with your strongest potions, Potion Seller? I have need of them if I am to be successful on the long roads ahead!"

“And I can't give you my strongest potions because my strongest potions are only for the strongest beings and you are the weakest."

That was the final straw for Amion. Back from his mind, he could just kill the deer and take whatever he want just like the one back at the blackguard camp. During the war, the Order would execute anyone who show disobedience, making an example to anyone that show defiance or rebellion.

Amion was this very close on killing the deer at the spot, but stayed his hand and chose a different route. “Guess that's it then, Potion Seller. I'll go elsewhere. I'll go elsewhere for my potions."

Langsat jumped out from the table and pushed the customer's leg toward the exit. “T-that's what you'd better do."

Amion couldn't help but smile at the little deer. No matter how much he wanted to kill her, he couldn't do it against such an adorable face like that. He quickly turned to the exit. “I'll go elsewhere for my potions and I won't come back."

Langsat smiled triumphantly. “Good. You're not welcome here! My potions are only for the strongest and you're clearly are not of the strongest…you're clearly the weakest!"

“You've had your say, Potion Seller, but I shall have mine." Amion said without looking at the deer. “You are a rascal with no respect for customers. No respect for anything…except your potions!"

Langsat glared as the man left the shop. “Why respect customers? When my potions can do anything that you can…"

The potion shop was but a fare distant dot as Amion descended towards to the town. He had nothing to say after that. It was a strange and bizarre experience that would keep in his mind for a week.

Langsat the mouse deer was at the entrance of the shop, watching of the man called Amion vanish from the distant. She felt a race of adrenaline and stumbled into the ground. She could hear her heart pound madly after her cheap performance.

When the deer manage to control of her composure, she went back inside and raised her voice. “You can come out now. The stranger is gone."

For a moment there was only silence before a door from the opposite end creaked open. Out from the door was a brown rodent, dressed in a stylish red and white attire made out of the finest silk.

Langsat breathed in and out. “You are right. He's definitely an odd one. He didn't even read the labels from the bottle. Either the wolf couldn't read or not bright at all. I mean, whoever heard of a wolf to come at a shop to buy vials of poison?"

The noble rodent mischievously smiled. “And who did you say it was a wolf to begin with?"

Langsat arched an eyebrow. “What are you saying? You think he's someone under disguise?"

The noble rodent sneered by her obliviousness and tossed a bag of coin. “Thank you for your services, Ms. Langsat."

Langsat sighed. “Anytime, milord."

As the rodent was about to leave, he abruptly stopped by the exit. “Hmm, this potion…you don't mind if I take this one, do you?"

“Help yourself. You paid me twice as more than usual."

The rodent took a blue vial from the shelf and left the shop.

Finally, after days of considerable search, the rodent had found the one person that it was looking for. Its effort was rewarded and at due pace was high time for a visit of this mysterious mercenary