Escape

The night was quiet with no sounds around the camp. On a cool summer night when the crickets and cicadas alike would normally be singing a song to the world, tonight they were silent. The families were settled into a forced peace as they retreated into their tiny make-shift tents. They laid and waited on sleep but it would not come for the silence was too great. The fields of La Theine Plateau were covered in lush green grass and soft dirt, which the travelers welcomed. They need not even lay down a floor for their tents because of this. Of all the travelers most were children and even more so orphans from the brutal attack on their homes the previous night.

On this particularly quite night, the orphaned children were kept together at the back of the camp. All the children were close friends and the recent events did nothing but bring them closer together. The children were trained in the arts of their parents. Some in the arts of crafting and others in the art of fighting, but they all had skills. In the eyes of the others, some of the children were far more skilled than others but all in all they are still very young.

Finally, what the parents had been anticipating happened, they were attacked again. This attack would not, however, be as successful. The travelers came across a group of veteran adventurers in their journey. They talked with the leader of the group and offered Gil and food in exchange for safe passage to the Kingdom of San d’Oria. As kindly as the adventurers seemed, they were far more wonderful than the travelers had expected. The adventurers helped in every aspect of the nights tasks: cooking, cleaning, washing, and even entertaining the children. The exhausted adults, who had up to this point done everything, had nothing to do but keep everyone company. It was a blessing more than the travelers would ever know.

The adventurers had with them a very special member who was hailed as one of the few “masters” left in the world. He was a giant of a man, built like a mountain with hands of monstrous proportion yet his touch was surprisingly gentle. The Fighter’s soft demeanor was accompanied by a name that sent shivers down even a demon’s spine. The man’s name was Oggbi, Master Oggbi.

Oggbi, however, was a name unknown to the travelers. His deeds were well known in the cities but foreign to the villagers and nomadic tribes. His martial arts skills were matched only by the skills of two others: Zeid, the legendary Dark Knight, and Dalzakk, Oggbi’s closest and most trusted friend. On this night, the travelers would get to experience the legends that most only dream of seeing.


When Clan Night-raider attacked, everyone was ready. They all did their jobs, like a well oiled machine, as they had so many times before. Oggbi was the only one who didn’t loosen his weapon immediately. He instead moved everyone to a cave behind the children’s tent and sat in the opening, meditating. He moved not a muscle until his teammates called his attention, “Oggbi, Vatgit is moving towards ya. Get ready!” Oggbi merely nodded and continued sitting. “Death’s wha you gonna get, ah ha ha ha!” announced the monstrous figure named Vatgit. At his command several orcs came to his call and moved towards the cave. The orcs charged ahead, Oggbi simply smiled and with nothing more than a whisper three of the orcs flew back as if they had been hit by a speeding chocobo.

One of the children was mesmerized by the man. He sat in the same position and made the same movements while uttering the same words. Oggbi turned slightly as he felt something push against his back. “You, young elvaan, aim that away from friends.” Oggbi said, with a smile. The master stood, turning as he did, and placed his hands on his weapons. The orcs came in one after the other, as fast as they came in they went down. “Hahaha, my formless Strike is unstoppable!” laughed Oggbi. The master had handled the grunts as easily as he expected. The only orc left now was Vatgit, who was slowly walking towards the cave. As he moved closer, the young boy’s attention was taken from the master to the orc’s shoulder pad. It was being held by a belt at which the end was the same marks as the boy’s white belt. The marks indicated that the belt was from someone trained by the master who trained his father. The boy suddenly realized it was his father’s belt.

With this knowledge the boy stood and ran straight for the monster. “Wait, Stop…Dammit!” Oggbi yelled as the boy ran past him. He reached for the boy but pulled his hand back quickly when we realized what was happening. He quickly focused and readied himself to chain his abilities along with the ability he doubted the boy even knew he had. The boy’s shoulder hit Vatgit with a force that shouldn’t have come from someone as young as he was. Vatgit’s mouth drew back with fangs bared at the pain. The boy was thrown several yards back from the recoil as Oggbi performed his legendary move, shouting the name as if calling to the heavens for help. “ASURAN FISTS” was the last thing the boy heard from Oggbi before he passed out.

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