The young teenager found himself within the rowdy port town of Vilpamolan, the Pirate City.  The streets were packed with people, all older than himself.  He saw all kinds of unsavory types, people with eyepatches, peg legs, hook hands, and people with scars all across their bodies.  Any kind of pirate stereotype you could imagine was here.  The lad, known as Hiro Kouen, wandered the marketplace garbed in shiny expensive mythril plate armor, armor that was covered with a crimson cloak.  He found a shop that claimed to be selling weapons with magical properties.


A particular sword caught his eye.  The sheath was blue and slightly curved.  The shopkeeper exclaimed that it was a rare "Sapphire Sword," a sword with a chilling blade made out of blue crystal.  Hiro was intrigued.  It might come in handy, despite Hiro's magics being focused around the element of fire.  He started talking to the shopkeeper about his stock of weapons.


"Do you happen to have a fire sword of some kind?" he asked the shopkeeper.


"Sorry, we're fresh out of fire weapons, lad, but we've got this sapphire ice sword.  As well as a crystal set of ice armor, and even a freezing axe!"  The shopkeeper and Hiro continued to chat when suddenly Hiro felt someone bump into him.  A small shifty man dressed in rags.


"A thousand pardons, my good sir," the man apologized to Hiro, before walking off.  Hiro paid him little mind, until he reached to his belt pouch for his purse of silver coins.  He was going to buy the Sapphire Sword.


It was gone.


The whole purse was gone.


"Gods be damned!  I've been pick pocketed!"  He turned to where he saw the man that bumped into him was going.  He seemed to be holding a bag of money suspiciously like his own that was missing.  "Hey!  THIEF!  STOP!"  Hiro started running off after the thief, who turned around and ran off.  Hiro gave chase.


The chase continued through the crowded streets, the pickpocket weaved expertly between people, while Hiro nearly ran straight through a couple of burly pirates who yelled at him as he had no time to stop to apologize to them.  They were approaching the dock, and it seemed there would be no where for the thief to go, when a boat pulled up at the end of the pier.  Did this man think he could escape on a boat to get away from him?


"Someone stop that man!  He's a thief!"  Hiro shouted out loud.  Man, this guy could really run, Hiro thought to himself.

The old monk breathed deeply as the vessel he was traveling on swayed back and forth. It was not a calm breath as he would have hoped. Indeed, the air was thick with corruption and filth as he had heard. The old man ran a hand across his bald head and leaned on the railing of the small boat that was beginning to pull into the docks. He stared into the depths as he tried to ignore the cursing, drinking, stealing, lustful, bloodthirsty sailors that were his hosts for the voyage.

"Even the water is filthy," Kreed whispered silently to himself, "Not even trash fish would swim in these parts."

Kreed felt his calm and balanced soul begin to sway to impatient and sour. Again, just as the rumors foretold, Vilpamolan was corrupt. It needed the healing power of kindness, charity, and faith. The Lone Fisherman felt it was his duty to bear the wellspring of hope to those who needed it…and it was definitely needed here.

Kreed prayed to the water spirits, as he often did, for the patience to bear his burden. He thumbed his prayer beads which held the beautiful, aquamarine color of the Nyelia Ocean. The more beautiful, cleaner parts at least. Holding the beads helped put his mind more at ease and he felt that determiniation spark inside of him once more. That powerful current and desire to help those who were in need.

Even as he felt his spirits rise and as his ship stopped at the dock, he heard youthful, fiery voice being carried on the wind.

"- THIEF! STOP!"

The humble monk glanced up curiously and noticed a small, gaunt man dressed in rags running very quickly toward the docks with a strong, youthful man hard on his heels. The man in rags ran quickly and left a "clop, clop, clop" sound as his cracked, bare feet pattered the wood on the docks. He was heading straight for the boat that Kreed hitched a ride on.

As the gangplank was lowered, the water monk hurried to the front and blocked the path of the man in rags.

Breathing heavily the man pulled out something that looked nothing more than a piece of glass with twine wrapped at one end for a makeshift handle.

"Look old man," The man rasped, "I don't want any trouble. Just let me pass with those beads of yours or else you might be getting more than just a shaved head."

The Lone Fisherman stared momentarily at the junk knife and just help up his hands, "My dear boy, only the foolish believe they can drink an entire river. Please set aside your greedy behavior and take upon yourself harmony. I have wisdom that I may teach you that you may find more valuable than a purse of coins."

The man blinked in surprised anger.

"Foolish? Greedy?! RIVER?! We are docked at the ocean you old fool! and it looks like you are going to get that close shave after all!" He yelled as he brandished the sharp piece of glass.

Hiro was catching up quickly to the thief, he seemed to be stopped by someone, maybe a good Samaritan.  However, as he got closer, he saw it was an old man.  Hiro started focusing his magic into his leg muscles to move more quickly.  The man was pulling out a knife or a shiv of some kind against the old man.  He wouldn't be able to live with himself if an old man or some other innocent got killed trying to stop a common thief who happened to be desperate to avoid being caught.  He moved in a blur, quickly arriving a few paces behind the thief.  One could see his armor revealed from under his cloak, that was flapping in the wind.  He held one hand on the hilt of his sword as he skidded to a stop.

"Don't you dare harm a hair on that man's head.  I have a sword, you don't want me to use it.  It would be a mistake you may not live long enough to regret.  Just hand me my money back, and no one needs to get hurt.  We can all just walk away from this like nothing ever happened.  Just drop the knife, and give me the money back," Hiro spoke calmly, trying not to escalate this further into some kind of hostage situation.

The thief was running out of time.  He hadn't expected this crazy old man to prevent him from getting away.  He also didn't expect this kid to be so heavily armed, and so quick in catching up to him.  It was quickly spiraling out of control.  He looked at the old man, then at Hiro, then at the glass shiv in his hand.

"That money isn't worth losing your life over.  It's not worth your life, it's not worth his life.  Just let it go."

Hiro could tell the thief was having an internal debate, running over all the possible ways this could go over in his head.  Finally, he dropped the shiv onto the ground, then handed the bag of coins back to Hiro before running away without a word spoken.  Hiro gave a sigh of relief, taking his hand off the hilt of his sword, and his body going into a more relaxed state.

"Thank you, elder.  Are you all right?  He didn't hurt you, right?"

Kreed watched with sorrowful amusement as the thief struggled with his weak conscience. The monk could practically see the inner questions buzzing above the mans head like angry piranha.

Who is the armored guy? Who is the old man? Why do they have ME at the end of my rope? How did they trap me? Where should I run? Who? What? Why? Ho-

"That money isn't worth losing your life over.  It's not worth your life, it's not worth his life.  Just let it go." Called the fiery youth in a very calm manner.

The monk was very impressed with this young man. He obviously had the strength and power to severly hurt this man. Many other men would have slit the thief's throat for merely looking at them the wrong way. Yet this young (by the looks of his armor) knight had the rationality and peace to reason with this desperate man.

The fiery spirit of a phoenix…yet the honor of a knight, Kreed studied in his thoughts, That must take incredible will power and spiritual fortitude.

The Lone Fisherman was very impressed.

The thief dropped the glass junk knife silently and handed the bag of coins back to to the knight then took off like a beaten dog. The young man watched him leave for a moment and then turned back to face Kreed once again.

"Thank you, elder.  Are you all right?  He didn't hurt you, right?" He asked with sincerity.

Kreed held up both his hands in a calm gesture as his fish-net backpack made small clinking sounds from his possesions shifting inside.

"No no my good man. Even the ocean returns to normal after a storm. Although circumstance might have changed if you did not come to my aid. The turtle is greatful for the help of the eagle. I thank you and would ask if maybe you would let me buy you a-"

A rough hand pulled Kreed back up onto the ship and he almost fell over backward as his feet padded loudly on the deck trying to regain his footing.

"Out of te way ye old coot! Ye are holdin' up te gangplank! Yer wantin' all of us to get whipped fer shirkin' our work?!" Yelled one the many sailors who where pushing busily past with cargo and heading down the walkway.

Hiro has relieved the situation was over.  He did not want to hurt the desperate thief, but if he had attacked that old man, he would have had no choice.  Thankfully, it did not come to blows.  Hiro wiped his brow of the sweat it had accumulated.  He had run quite a distance chasing the thief.  He'd be glad to be able to sit down somewhere and rest.

It seemed the old man was all right.  He spoke to Hiro in metaphors, but was interrupted by sailors nearly knocking him over in their rush to get their cargo off the boat.  He quickly took hold of the old man's hand and arm, steadying him, and leading him away from the the rush of people leaving the boat.

"Wow, they're in a rush, though I guess we lingered a tad too long there.  Shall we find someplace to sit down and talk?  You must be exhausted after that ordeal, because I sure know I am.  I'm somewhat of a stranger to this town, as you could probably tell.  I don't fit in here.  That's probably one reason why that thief chose me, other than I had money he wanted. Anyway, let's find a place to sit down, maybe a tavern or restaurant something, though I fear we may not be able to find something high class in a place like this."  He started leading the man off the dock, so they wouldn't get in the way of any more sailors.

As the fiery youth assisted the old man away from the gangplank he was amazed at the level of kindness this man had within him. More so than any individual he had met within his travels. The Lone Fisherman had met other knights before but knew from experience they were more concerned about their pay, drink, and privelages that came with the title. More like "Mercanaries" than acutal "Knights."

But this one was different…It was very obvious to Kreed. It was similar to watching a shark that roamed its home turf. All the fish that lived in the shark's water knew it was dangerous and could kill them at any moment, but the shark never hurt those in his waters. He had honor and understanding. This young man was concerned enough to make sure all was well after the ordeal.

This was a man he was looking for.

The Lone Fisherman came to Vilpamolan to bring harmony and peace, that much was certain, but he also came here for another reason. Kreed came to this corrupt city specifically to accomplish a great task. A task that was asked of him by the monks and villagers that lay beyond the shores of Vilpamolan. The pirate mob known as "The Hush" were throwing the farmers off their land and obtaining their deeds by illegal means. The monks and villagers begged for Kreed to come to their aid return the deeds to their rightful owners. Being a monk Kreed could not refuse them. But he often felt that maybe he was the foolish man trying to drink an entire river. Strong as a monk as he was there was no way he could stop an entire pirate mob himself. He was worried this might have been more difficult than he thought.

Until he met the knight.

"He he he," The monk cackled loudly, "My boy you sure know how to treat an old man. The dolphin is grateful to the wave, yes? I definitely owe you that drink for helping my salty, old hide. I hear there is a stall near here that sells an amazing fishbone stew and spiced ale if you are interested?"

The monk leaned in close and conspiratorily, "Just make certain not to let me drink. I have the habit of not knowing when to stop… By the way young one," Kreed asked in normal tone again, "What is the name I should be calling this strapping young adventurer?"

Hiro assisted the old man in the way his father had taught him to, with respect.  He was taught to respect his elders, particularly those who were much older than him.  He was taught to always respect women, elders, and children, those who were more vulnerable than him.  One day, Hiro might be old enough to be in this man's place, and he wouldn't want to be disrespected.

The old man offered him a drink at stand nearby.  The food sounded good, but Hiro had some reservations about the drink.

"My father taught me respect.  I'd say he is even more knightly than myself.  I don't want to turn down an offer of a drink, but honestly?  I've never touched alcohol before.  I don't know if I can hold my liquor, because I'm only sixteen years old.  I've never had a drink, so it makes me a little nervous," he blushed a bit and scratched his head.  "I'll be sure they serve you tea or something like that.  Anyway, my name is Hiro, Hiro Kouen.  I come from a foreign land, to make a name for myself here.  What can I call you, Elder?  What brings you to this town?  It seems too . . . rotten a place for a kind soul like you."

The old man waved his hand dismissively.

"Bah! You are old enough to carry a weapon, you are old enough to honor the dead with a drink. And no need to burden yourself with carrying me around. I may be old but I still have one foot out of the grave yet. You may call me Kreed. I am a Monk of the Waters who travels and assists those in need. Although you might know me as my more widely known title 'The Lone Fisherman.' But I try not to flaunt that around as much."

The old monk walked with the young knight in the direction of the stall. As they got closer the smell of grilling fish, spices, vegetables, and broth filled the air. He sat down at the bar on one of the rickety old bar stools and ordered two bowls of fishbone stew and two Salt Brandy's. The drink was said to be strong enough to wake the great river serpents themselves.

The monk pondered more on his task at hand and wasn't sure if he should include the young Hiro in his quest or not. Although the knight seems to not be under the rule of any lord, it still might not be fair to involve him in any danger.

The monk continued to think deeply on the matter. The villagers who hired him said that as long as he saved the deeds then he could take over any money that the Hush pirates had in their possession. However Kreed did not need any worldly wealth. His pay came from the helping of others and from the waters themselves. Maybe the young knight might be interested in a little money…

As they waited for the food and drink to arrive the monk brought out his long pipe from his sleeve. He began to pack in the tobacco and spoke without looking at Hiro.

"You are right, Hiro. This town is a little too rotten for an old monk such as myself. However it is for that reason that I am here. I have duties here that I could possibly use your help on… But before we get into that matter, you mentioned that your father was a knight as well, hm? Does knighthood run in your family?

Hiro listened to the Kreed's words.  He was indeed old enough to carry a weapon, to fight, to possibly die, he should be old enough to drink alcohol.

"You're right.  I could die fighting, and never know the taste of alcohol.  I should at least try it.  It's a pleasure to meet you, Kreed.  I've never met a monk before, and I'm sorry to say I've haven't heard your title before," he said, walking along side Old Man Kreed, letting the monk guide him to the stall.  He could smell the grilled fish in the air, the stew that they were cooking.  It smelled good.  Hiro and Kreed sat down in front of the bar and ordered their food and drink.  While they were waiting, the monk started his pipe up and they started to talk.

"Well, my father served the people.  He received his title of Phoenix Knight from an order of Knights that used elemental magic for the people.  Mother told me he had the soul of a phoenix in him.  I don't know if that was figuratively or literal.  But he never owned land, riches, squires, or anything like that.  I guess you might have called him an errant knight or something.  But he fought to protect people, he fought monsters, dragons, even against certain Gods that belittled the people.  Other Gods respected him.  He could use flames and holy light, and eventually became powerful enough to tame the other elements.  I really look up to him.  I wish to become worthy of his Phoenix Knight title, like a successor to his title, or maybe a title of my own.  I wish to one be as strong as he is.  I want to be like him.  He trained me in swordsmanship and fire magic.  Fire runs in my veins, it runs in the family.  Dad was born with it, and Mom too.  I came to Revaliir to carve my own name for myself here, to become a great man that protects the people."  Hiro smiled at Kreed.  His smile was warm and friendly.  "So, about that business, as long as the cause is just, I'd be happy to help you.  I'd like to hear more."

The food and the drink arrived shortly. It smelled as well as Kreed remembered fishbone stew smelled. He stared warily at the second drink that he ordered for himself and contemplated whether or not he should partake. Shrugging he decided to go for it anyways, in celebration of his new friend. He took a long draw from the ale and felt the warmth and numbing nature of the liquid go down his throat. He sighed in a satisfied manner and then responded.

"I would find it a great coincidence that you, one who has fire in his veins, has met me on the docks of my destination, one who has water in his veins. As I mentioned before I am a Monk of the Waters. I have been blessed by the great water spirits am also called brook-brother and fish-whisperer. Fishing has been my trade but now it has become my mantra, my weapon, my art, and my peace. I have great commands over the rivers, lakes, and tides. Being a monk I have been sent here to stop a certain group of ruffians known as the Hush Pirates. Cruel bunch of scoundrels that have taken the surrounding villagers land illegally. I have been sent on request of the monastery bring the deeds of the villagers back and prevent the Hush from causing this problem again. Yet I fear that I am severely over my head. I am old, granted I am not weak,  but old nonetheless. So *hic* I was wondering if I would be able to interest a good knnnnnight…such as yourself to help an old monk out. How about it? Know any*hic*thing about these rapscallionsssss?

The monk drank a little too quickly and was already beginning to show the effect of drunken stupor. While he was waiting for a response from Hiro he turned in his chair and pounded his mug against the table.

"Oy! Barkeep! I drink like a fish so make sssssure not to leave me dry, ay?!"