Cornan and Zane rode away from the angry volcano. It’s prize and treasure taken it looked less menacing. It looked more like a normal mountain, but the bag which held the wire looked corrupted and malicious. As they rode Zane pulled out the book, Myth And Magic, and began to find the next path. They had to travel far, to the mountains of ice. As Zane finally looked up from his studies he noticed a man, standing alone on the road. “Don’t stop,” murmured Cornan as they walked closer. Keeping his mouth shut they began to walk past. “Please, help me,” Said the man. Zane couldn’t help himself as he looked over. The man seemed to have blood staining his side. But Zane pulled his eyes away and looked forward. The man straightened his back from its crouched position and sneered. “Have it your way,” smiled the man fiercely. Men poured out from either side of the trees, 10 at the most. Cornan stopped his horse, and Zane reigned in his horse as well. The men made them hop off their horses. They rummaged through their bags, finding to their anger, nothing of value. Finally one shouted, and to Zane’s dismay he found the bandit holding their hidden bag. The one which held the wire. The man pulled out the wire, and to his fear his eyes coated over in black. His eyes had no white or colour, it was just a deep black and black stains started to climb up his arm. The men stood back in fear, and the mans hand tensed instinctively leaving him unable to let go of the item. Finally the man fell to the ground, black veins covering his body. The bandits looked in horror at the two travellers, and one saw the similar stains on Zane’s hands. One broke and ran, and it caused a reaction of the others. Standing back up Cornan hopped back up onto the horse and began to ride off, Zane quickly following.
Finally they hopped off of their horses at night, and Zane was ready to sleep. “Zane. From the test from the volcano it has become clear that you are not ready. I thought you had at least had some training in swordsmanship but it seems I will have to teach you.” Cornan said. “What?” Replied Zane with tiredness. “You want revenge?” Asked Cornan, and Zane replied with a nod. “Well, you are going to die if you have no knowledge with the blade. So let’s start.” He said. Picking up two sticks he threw one to Zane and readied himself in a battle stance. “You tap me with the stick, and you get to rest. Otherwise you stay up all night,” he said. Zane readied himself, his stick ready to stab forward. Cornan saw this and got ready himself. “Go.” Cornan had hardly finished the word before Zane had launched into action. Cornan was caugh off guard, but he managed to bring his stick up and knock the stick out of Zane’s hand. Then in quick reaction he tapped him sharply against the shin. Zane hopped, pulling his shin up. Cornan waited for Zane to pick up the stick once more and the pattern continued. The attacks soon became longer and more thought out. However Zane quickly became frustrated. Finally Zane brought his stick along the far side, but as Cornan went to block it he flicked it downwards, and hit the tip of his foot. Zane stood panting from the long night of exhaustion. “Good, now rest,” and that was that.
The next day, and the next we’re filled with training. Zane worked hard to combat Cornan and his skills quickly developed. Rounds soon lasted long enough that when they ended, they usually did so because one or the other was too exhausted. Then the map said they were nearing the cold, ice land of the North.