Agidia The Warrior's Way
The ocean gently placed a salty kiss on his lips, and he awoke amid the tattered wreckage of his once beautiful ship. He stood and felt the warmth of the sun bath his face as he stretched and made note of every ache and pain that his body reported. Feeling only minor soreness and stiffness, he immediately turned his attention to the wreckage and retrieved his crate from the gaggle of timbers and cloth. He placed the trunk onto the sand and released the lock. An approving smile crept across Taxus’s hard face as the lid slid open, revealing the keen edges of his golden weapons. He raised up the broadsword and held it to the sun, turning it this way and that, from angle to angle, inspecting its keenness. When satisfied, he placed it on the sand as carefully as if it were a priceless work of art and scooped the ax from its resting place. He held its edges to the sun, canting it left and right, amazed at how perfect the balance was. When finished, he gingerly laid it by the sword and returned to the trunk. He removed a short, black, saffron robe and slid it over his shoulders, fastening his weapons belt around his waist to hold the robe in place. There was a black sack, which he knew would contain his rations, honing stones, and fire sticks. He slid his arm through its sash so that the sack hung snugly to his back. He drew up his weapons slid them through the loops of his sword belt and headed down the white, sandy beach at a comfortable trot, enjoying the gentle breeze as the air parted before him and the sweet, new smells carried to his nostrils.