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[Arlin]

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Arlin fell backwards onto his bed, the whole house quivering on its foundation. His feet, his poor feet! He had marched hundreds of miles in blistering weather, out ran the Regencies best scouts, had transversed hot coals barefoot. But...shopping! Never before had his feet and his ego suffered so much...

Arlin groaned and sat up, unable to drift off to the painless, shopping-free world of his dreams. Instead, he dragged himself over to one of his old chests, out of boredom. The poorly maintained chest opened slowly, and a cloud of dust moved up to meet Arlins face. Releashing a collosall sneeze, he cleared the chest of any remaining dust, and scanned the contents. His first sword, his first uniform of his first guild, old journals and missives, a few scattered pictures. His eyes took in all of this, looking for anything that wouldnt remind him of better times.

Suddenly he stopped, and fished out a small badge. He ran his thumb over the badge and his eyes grew with his smile. It was his old militia badge and uniform. It was all still there, all in almost pristine condition. Arlin fished it out, placing it at the foot of the bad. He longed for those days, and missed his old friends dearly. It was because of the militia that he had met Arcana. He muttered something incoherent, reminded of his throbbing feet. It was worth it, he supposed. Hell, he hadn't been wenching in days...

Something clicked inside Arlins head. He looked to the patch, and grinned big. He knew exactly how to prove to Arcana he was a changed man. Going shopping and *not* wenching was a good start...but if he could bring back the Yew Militia...

Arlin nearly lept into his bed, resting easy now, dreaming of his lost past, and a very promising future.
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As the fire fades to night, remember always the ember that started it all.