Oda walked through the streets of Himmelsberg Monastery. Its once bustling alleys held nothing but frost and swirling eddies of wind. Snow blasted in from the high mountains and the elements themselves seemed to conspire to bring down the now desolate home. The Archon had gone into retreat in the icy mountains. All the men and women of the guard were out in the world, doing good works and building something new. Only he and a few others, his dear Eastern friend Tojo, the fearsome but slightly mad brothers Eryalus and Draeth (inseparable yet always quarreling), and the mighty Killiam remained to maintain the monastery. Despite a helping hand from the oftimes visiting historian general, Hamilcar, and the new founded alliance with the men of the valleys (free men fighting impossible odds), Himmelsberg still seemed an empty husk compared to the liveliness it had once known.
As Oda strolled up onto the rampart he heard a familiar but long since lost noise: the rasp of leather on steel. Could it be an assassin? An enemy who had snuck into the keep? Whirling he drew his hand forged sword from its sheath on his hip and prepared himself for a fight. A sword flashed down in a heavy overhead stroke and he barely managed to block it, all thoughts but survival left him immediately. He twisted his body in towards the wall on the stair, sliding his sword's blade into the crossguard of his opponent kicking out with his right foot and slapping aside the blade of his foe with a gauntleted hand he strove to drive his opponent down off the stairs. Seemingly impossibly his opponent dodged backward and used his free hand to slug Oda in the head, outreaching his leg and striking a heavy blow against his nose. Dazed and blinded by pain, Oda fell back against the stairs and, having dropped his sword, drew his razor sharp dagger, preparing to meet the end he know was coming. As he waited for the finishing blow he heard a low and familiar chuckle.
"Caught you off guard again old friend?" said the voice as the figure proffered a helping hand, a voice Oda now knew very well. Sheathing his dagger and spitting out an oath, Oda grasped the proffered hand and pulled himself to his feet. "I do believe you're losing your edge!" said the man, and what a man he was! Tall and strong with a healthy and hearty face that beamed friendliness and yet somehow remained stern, the man was dressed in scale plated armor that clinked and rustled as he moved. The man sheathed his glowing sword and laughed heartily, "Its good to be back!" Oda smiled through his throbbing nose and said, "its good to have you back archon!"
