After making good time, Young Master McDohl had finally reached the country of Highland, and was treking across it on foot.

Young Master McDohl walked down the country road that led to L'Renouille, the capital of the Highland Empire. Along the way, he mused to himself that the name of the town sounded like something Milich Openheimer would think up.

But McDohl quickly sobered up. Getting through this town without being recognized was going to be pretty tricky. While the Jowston City States and Toran Republic have been on less than . . . friendly terms, Highland was even more annoying. Not to mention far times more vicious.

When he was President of the Republic, McDohl had visited Highland to work out some trade agreements. King Agares was nice enough. Princess Jillia seemed kinda cold. Prince Luca . . . .well, McDohl wouldn't trust that man with a kitten.

Now, if he could avoid most of the guards, he should have no trouble sneaking through . . .

"Mister McDohl!"

Young Master McDohl jumped about 10 feet in the air and immediately did a 180 . . . only to look down at a small child, who was staring up at him.

"H-huh?!"

"Hiya, Mister McDohl!"

Young Master McDohl twitched a little. Well . . . that didn't take long. He quickly looked around to make sure no one else heard the child call out his name.

"Shhhhh!!! Must you be so loud?" McDohl said in panic.

"I know you!" The child just kept on talking loudly and smiling. "Mommy showed me your picture in a history book! You're famous!"

McDohl started to run down the road now as fast as he could, but the child ran after him. He waved his little sword and called for Young Master McDohl to come play with him. Of course, McDohl was in no state for that. He was panicking like mad. If he didn't lose this kid, he was dead for sure. Oh . . . for only a holy rune . . .

He raced past the guards at the city entrance, with the child hot on his heels. The guards turned from their post to watch, then looked at each other. Shrugging, they went back to watching the road.

Young Master McDohl zig-zagged through the streets of L'Renouille, desperate to ditch the child, not caring that he may be risking his presence from all the comotion he was making.

He finally lost the child when he ducked into an alleyway, but only managed to collide head-on with someone, sending them both sprawling to the pavement.

"Oww . . ." McDohl held his head as it throbbed.

"My word, the youth of this country are in such a hurry. You almost marred my features, you ruffian."

Young Master McDohl froze in place and his eyes went wide. Oh no . . .that VOICE!

"Didn't your parents teach you any manners? I should . . . eh? Why, it's President McDohl! I am so sorry; I mistook you for one of the street urchins of this godforsaken town. But we are friends, no? All is forgiven!"

"Hello Vincent . . ." McDohl said, not the least bit amused.

Cue the obnoxious music. There he stood. Vincent De Boule, in all his aristocratic . . . Vincent-ness. His blond hair still cascaded over one eye and he had that self-deluded smile, as always. At least he had the decency NOT to wear that cape with the rose on it today.

"Oh, we must get out of this alleyway! This will never do for two gentlemen of our caliber to re-aquaint ourselves in. Come, let us visit the local inn, right away."

Young Master McDohl noticed something else today. Vincent seemed kinda . . . . scared. After all, he was looking around the alley like he expected someone to jump out of it and attack him.

Not that Vincent's attire and attitude didn't already scream "Please sir; beat me up and take my money", but he was definitely looking for someone . . .or someTHING . . .in particular. And despite how annoying he was, Vincent STILL was one of the 108 Stars of Destiny that helped McDohl defeat the Scarlet Moon Empire, so he felt compassion for the man.

"Come on, Vincent. Let's get out of this place and find the inn."

"A good idea if I ever heard one, Master McDohl." Together, they left the dirty streets and went in search of the local inn.

However, poor McDohl was only more self-conscious of how much he stuck out like a sore thumb with the colorful Vincent De Boule following him. Eventually, they made their way to the local in and sat down for some dinner.

The poor innkeeper tried desperately to follow the list of incredibly hard to pronounce exotic dishes that Vincent rattled off. Trying to figure out what those foods were gave the innkeeper a headache.

"Look, don't you eat any . . . well, NORMAL food?"

Vincent seemed a tad affronted by this, but a look from McDohl cowed him. He smiled and just ordered the most expensive thing on the menu for the both of them. Suddenly, Young Master McDohl was glad he beat up a few monsters on the way here. He was going to need every last potch to have Vincent as part of his party.

Their meals having been ordered, Young Master McDohl relaxed in his chair and waited, listening to Vincent go on about how he got here and what he was doing in L'Renouille. As usual, to listen to him tell it, he was just a simple aristocrat that no one understood.

He also made many blessings towards the friendship he shared with McDohl. He made even more as McDohl was shelling out the 500 potch for their meal. But for once, Vincent was right in the choices he made. The food here was a feast and that's just what he needed compared to the dried rations he was forced to live on for about a month.

As they ate, and Vincent continued to talk, McDohl was becoming accutely aware of the stares the inn's patrons were giving them. It was a mixture of people gawking at Vincent, trying to figure out where they've seen McDohl before, and the amount of money they just shelled out for a meal.

But there was more. Young Master McDohl could feel sinister stares coming from somewhere in the inn, but couldn't tell who and why. All the same, it was making him very nervous.

"Uh . . . Vincent . . . "

" . . . because it is SO hard to find a good tailor in those backwater 'burgs. I just had to come to L'Renouille to find a decent pair of . . ."

"Vincent!"

"Oh! I'm sorry, did you say something, my friend?"

"Yes, Vincent. I think we should retire to our rooms for right now. I have something I want to talk to you about, alone."

Vincent nodded and the two got out of their chairs and walked up the stairs to the second floor. Once in their room, McDohl turned around and looked at Vincent.

"Okay, what is really going on?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Vincent asked, bewhildered.

"There are a group of heavily armed men downstairs right now who were staring at you pretty intently. Unless you want to go back down there alone, I think you'd better come clean with me."

"Ah . . .um . . . heh." Vincent was very nervous. He ran over to the door, peeked out, then shut it tightly, locking it behind him.

"Master McDohl, you take this all the wrong way. I am the victim here."

He noticed the look on McDohl's face.

"Truely! I was on my way here from the village of Dragonmouth when I was accosted by a group of thugs. They demanded my money and I barely escaped with my life. They followed me here and had the nerve to demand I return something of theirs that is mine by birthright!"

The truth comes out. Looks like Vincent took something that didn't belong to him. He conviently got McDohl to hide him out for awhile, on the pretense of catching up on old times.

After some prodding, McDohl managed to get Vincent to show him what they were after. It was a golden medallion, that had many ancient markings on it.

The medallion had some residule magic trace, indicating that it might be a transformed rune. McDohl would have inquired, but the sound of heavy footsteps outside their door caused Vincent to go into a panic.

"I beg of you, on our eternal bonds of friendship, save me!"

Before Young Master McDohl could answer, the door burst open in an explosion of wood shards. About five bandits walked in and barred the entrance. These were tough men, hardened by a life outdoors in the mountains, and they all looked pretty mean.

Their leader had a red cap on and some really intense sideburns. He also carried a pair of meat cleavers and pointed one at Vincent.

"I finally caught you, you stinkin' piece of Eurotrash. Now you're going to give up what's rightfully mine, or I'll carve you up like a ripe watermellon."

Young Master McDohl had heard of this guy by reputation only. Gijimu was not a man to be taken lightly. This medallion must mean a whole lot to him and his bandits if he chased Vincent all the way into the capital of the Highland Empire, where the bounty on their heads was no doubt immense.

"I see you've brought a little pip-squeak a long with you. Run home kid, before I have to do something we'll both regret."

McDohl was about to speak up in his own defense, when Vincent decided to do it for him.

"How dare you insult such a fine gentleman and scholar in that boorish mannner?! This is Master McDohl, President of the Toran Republic, you speak to! Still your wagging tongue before he thrashes you within an inch of your life!"

McDohl tried to tell Vincent to shut up through clentch teeth, but the reaction out of the bandits was that of laughter and hysterics.

"That little runt is the President of the Toran Republic? Yeah, and I'm the Mayor of Muse." Gijimu gestured to his comrades to advance.

"Try not to make a mess."

From the first floor, patrons of the inn could hear a chorus of shouts, followed by some intense crashing around and screams of pain, followed by silence.

Upstairs, Gijimu's jaw was nearly dropped to the floor. That "pip-squeak" had effortlessly took out four of his best men with that staff of his, not taking so much as a scratch in return. McDohl dropped to a battle crouch, and gestured for the bandit leader to try his luck. Gijimu only smirked.

"Well, I COULD use a little exercise before dinner." Gijimu twirled his cleavers and ran forth. Young Master McDohl barely had enough time to push Vincent out of the way and block with his staff before they became coleslaw.

Lashing out with a knee, McDohl caught Gijimu in the gut and a following blow from his staff sent him reeling backwards a few steps. A small trail of blood ran down the bandit leader's fcae, which he wiped away with a grin.

"Not bad. Not bad at all. Ever considered being a bandit? We could use a good man like you."

McDohl only shook his head a little. Gijimu smirked again.

"Well, don't say I didn't offer."

They raced at each other and the clanging of weapons was loud in the small room. However, that drowned out the sound of one of the bandits struggling to his feet and raising his hand. A Fire Rune glowed and Vincent shouted at McDohl to watch out.

The dizzy bandit missed however, causing the floor to explode underneat them. Vincent De Boule, Young Master McDohl, Gijimu, and his bandits all fell screaming onto the dining room of the inn's first floor.

Later, in dungeon under L'Renouille's castle, the Highland guards had locked the whole lot of them into a large cell. McDohl had his hands curled around the bars and a very depressed look on his face; Vincent stood to his side and Gijimu and the bandits were nursing their wounds.

"Look at it this way, my friend," Vincent said. "At least we still have each other."