1 New Life Begins With Death

Brad awoke to a splitting headache as random images flashed through his mind. "you okay there?" asked an instructor. "We thought we lost you for a minute, we told you rule one: never leave the safety of the shield on the trips to the wastelands!"

Lost in thought Brad replied "Sorry I must have tripped," though Brad himself knew that he had felt a push on his back before leaving the shield. "Well at least you're okay, I would have gotten a 30 silver fine if you had died!" said the instructor as he walked out of the room.

Brad, a young lad with brown hair and eyes, his face showed a sense of maturity beyond his years and his body was toned with muscle. You couldn't say he was a loner but he had no one that he really trusted.

As Brad looked around he saw that he was put into the camp infirmary and he was one of the few people there, Brad sighed and thought back to when his grandfather was still alive. His grandfather was the reason he was able to enter into this training ground for warriors as there were only 3 normal ways to enter. The first was if you had some sort of backing, the second was if you had talent and finally the most common but despised way was money.

Now Brad and his grandfather were not rich but his grandfather sold black goods (illegal items) in an effort to raise the money, unfortunately, he was caught and sent to jail where he later died from displeasing a crew boss of the blacktail gang.

Brad awoke the next day as they prepared to leave the border of the wastelands, he was glad that it was finally time to go as the wastelands was only a place of death. The group of trainees boarded covered wagons as they started the long road back to the training grounds of the GoldenWinds Guild.

Brad was placed with 7 others around him and as the trip continued the mostly silent wagon gradually became more talkative as the distance from the wastelands grew, the trips to the wastelands had always been dangerous but with the protection of the instructors, there had never been a problem.

After the third day of travel, they stopped to rest for the night and suddenly as they were setting up camp the cry's of goblins were heard. "Get to the wagons!" yelled the instructors as they drew their swords. A group of more than 20 goblins rushed from the bushes and were faced with the iron swords of the 5 instructors, as the combat began Brad heard a whisper in his mind and every time a goblin died it grew a little louder.

Finally, after 14 of the goblins died he could understand what it was saying. "Run!" the voice hissed, "these cannon fodder are only the beginning!"