Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: Evolution or any of the characters in the show. The concept of the race of kenders was borrowed from Tracy Hickman and Margaret Weis.

Thanks to Spiffythefaery for the beta work and the occasional writing performance in a pinch.

-

It was late summer in Argos. Although it was still the season for traveling, the most veteran wanderers knew the foolishness of roving across the Vesbol Plains during this particular time of year. The land was so unbearable that even the thieves and mercenaries vacated the plains by late summer.

Long, dry grass rose from the baked earth, stretching several feet towards the sky. The blazing sun sucked up all the moisture from the vegetation, leaving what was once a majestic green a sickly brown. The streams that brought water down from the Pulgas Mountains had dried up almost completely, leaving no source of water for plants, animals, or people. Crops withered and died in the extreme heat, and most animals had fled for a cooler climate, with the exception of the rodents that sought refuge from the scorched earth by burrowing.

When all was said and done, no sane man would venture onto the Vesbol Plains during this time of the year.

No one ever made the mistake of accusing Kurt Wagner of being sane.

Merrily tottering down one of well traveled paths that slithered through the plains, Kurt was fairly oblivious to his surroundings. There was a fairly simple explanation for his solitary exploration; Kurt had never been to the Vesbol Plains and had therefore taken off as soon as the inspiration struck.

But Kurt had arrived at the conclusion that the plains were most definitely not all he had heard. In fact, it was down right boring.

Anyone in Argos would tell you that one of the most dangerous things in the world is a bored kender.

Kender are a race of diminutive people that live in the far west of Argos. Although their homeland is sheltered from the rest of the world by the deadly Nerzock Mountains and the mysterious and dangerous Lecite Wood, kender are prone to traveling. At a certain age they become stricken with wanderlust, and off they go, ending up wherever their feet took them. Unfortunately for the rest of the world, kender are some of the greatest thieves that ever existed. The problem was that they didn’t realize it.

“This is boring,” Kurt declared to himself as he stopped walking and sat down on the dirt path.

“I need to find somewhere else to go,” he promptly decided, as he rooted carefully through one of the myriad pouches that covered his garment. Carefully lifting out a yellowed scrap of parchment, Kurt lovingly unfurled the map, tracing his finger along the outskirts of the Vesbol Plains.

“I’m here,” he said, pointing to the map, his brow furrowed in thought. “What’s nearby?” Kurt’s yellow eyes scanned the map. “Bortras? The sheriff there was real happy to see me go. But I’m sure he didn’t mean it when he told me never to come back. I’ve already been there though. I want to see somewhere new.”

“Stafford Keep?” Kurt said, as his gaze fell upon the ancient fortress that guarded the Eller River. “That would take me into Ruto, and while I’m always fond of visiting there, it’s been done. The jails are some of the nicest I’ve ever been in, but they always take me there before I get a chance to see anything of interest. There are only so many times a jail can wow a guy.

“I’ve never been here,” Kurt continued as his finger tapped on a town that was relatively close to the Vesbol Plains. “Rafa? I bet it’s interesting. Oh! I bet it’s a place for mercenaries and thieves. Those are always lots of fun. Even if those criminals seem to think that I should be locked up. Honestly, what do they know?”

Having reached his decision, Kurt rolled up his map and replaced it in his pouch. Rising to his feet, the young kender set out on his path, heading into lands unknown. All he knew was that the sun was overhead, the long dusty road ahead, and an adventure was in his future.

-

To call Rafa a city would be an insult to the other cities of Argos. Cities are bustling metropolises, not grim covered hovels. To call Rafa a town would be a gross overstatement. At least towns have some shreds of dignity to them. Rafa was neither city nor town, it simply was.

Whenever someone was pressed for a description of Rafa, the answer would ultimately be along the lines of “It’s like someone set up a camp and forgot to move on,” a statement that was all too accurate.

Location, location, location is what the locals would say when asked about their town. Set up on the only known road that went through the eastern half of the plains, Rafa, during the spring and fall, boomed with traders that came through en route to the lord cities to the east or to the elvish realm to the south. During the summer, however, there was no travel. The heat that rose from the baked earth drove the residents of Rafa indoors during the day, only emerging once the sun had sunk behind the horizon.

It was dusk when Kurt entered the town.

-

Kurt looked around with glee. He always enjoyed exploring new places and Rafa was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He surveyed the small town, his eyes scanning the people wandering about in the dust lined streets.

Kurt licked his chapped lips. The road to Rafa had been very long and dusty, the sun blazing for hours, leaving the kender tired and thirsty. Kurt decided that the first thing he was going to do was find a tavern. After he would try to add to his map collection. Rummaging through his money pouch, Kurt tried to add up his coins while he walked. The gold and silver clinked as he counted. Grinning to himself, Kurt figured he had enough money for several cold glasses of ale.

The kender was so preoccupied with his money and the thoughts of a cool drink that he was paying no attention to where he was going. Kurt was jolted out of his reverie when he walked into a man who sneered at him and roughly shoved Kurt backwards, causing the kender to fall over.

“You know, you really should watch where you’re going,” Kurt told the man. “You might hit someone who might take offense. I’m a nice guy but the world isn’t filled with nice guys. In fact, there was this not-so-nice guy I met because he wasn’t watching where he was going. He told me…” Kurt never got a chance to finish his story as the man kicked dirt in his face.

He coughed violently. By the time he could stop, the man had vanished. Kurt frowned. “That guy wasn’t nice at all. In fact, he was down right mean.”

Kurt stood, brushing the dirt from his face. “I really could use that ale now.”

Looking around, Kurt tried to find a tavern. Finding none, he frowned then placed a hand in a pouch, only to pull out a fancy ring. Kurt looked at the jewelry. He had never seen it before. He shrugged and placed the ring back in the pouch.

Kurt attempted to approach several of the people wandering about the town, but he was given a cold shoulder and shooed away. Undiscouraged by his failures, Kurt approached a young woman. Unable to reach her shoulder, Kurt pulled at her brown traveling cloak. The girl jumped at the contact and looked down at him. She wore a look of awe, her bright blue eyes opened wider than Kurt had ever seen before. Her brown hair tumbled down over her shoulders. Her traveling cloak was made from a rich silk and felt fairly new. Her lips twisted into a friendly smile.

“Could you tell me where the tavern is?” Kurt asked. The girl looked around at some of the buildings.

“I’m…I’m not sure. Sorry, I’m not from around here,” the girl replied sheepishly. Kurt grinned.

“Me neither. But that’s okay. It’s always fun exploring new places. I’m Kurt Wagner.”

“Katherine Pryde.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Katherine. Pryde? That name sounds familiar. Have we ever met before?” Kurt mused.

“No. I’ve never met a kender before.”

“Are you sure? Because kender get around a lot and we’ve pretty much met everyone.”

Katherine shook her head. “I assure you, I’ve never met a kender.”

Kurt shrugged. “If you say so. Katherine – Katherine, that’s a long name. Trips up the tongue.”

The girl smiled. “Call me Kitty.”

Kurt grinned. “Kitty – that has a nice ring to it. So where are you from, Kitty?”

The brunette’s lips twisted into a frown. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not going back.”

Kurt glanced at the girl sadly. He could hear the pain in her voice at the thought of home. He was certain that there was an interesting story behind her comments, but he wasn’t going to press. Sometimes a person had to deal with their problems by themselves.

“How about we find that tavern?”

The two set off down the road and found a crowded pub soon enough. Kurt wrinkled his nose as they entered the establishment. There was a heavy stench on the air from all the alcohol. and the floor and tables were sticky with the residue of ale. The tables and chairs were chipped and wobbly, the witness to many fights. Yet, the tavern was crowded. Bar maidens swept back and forth from the customers to the surly bartender, carrying food and glasses filled with watered-down liquor.

Kurt slipped through the crowd easily, his lithe body allowing his easy navigation while Kitty had slightly more difficulty getting through, being knocked around by some of the inebriated. Kurt separated from Kitty, trying to head towards some empty tables at the back of the tavern. His route took him near the bar, where a few patrons nursed their drinks. One of the drunks reached down and grabbed Kurt by his tunic. Kurt stared up into a pair of beady eyes peering out from a brown hooded cloak.

“Hi. I’ve never been strangled by my tunic before and while I always enjoy a new experience I’d wonder if you wouldn’t mind letting go because it’s really uncomfortable and hurts.”

“Give it back,” the man spat out, his breath drenched in alcohol.

“Give what ba…” Kurt’s answer was cut off by the man tightening his grip.

“Give it back. I ain’t gonna ask again,” the man said, his voice brimming with the promise of pain. His grip relaxed ever so slightly.

Kurt hurriedly began to rummage through his pouches. He grabbed rings, utensils, and some coins – having “acquired” all of these during his brief time in the tavern. A small metallic pendant dangled between his fingers, with some illegible writing scrawled on the side. The man noticed the trinket and snatched it away. Kurt was unceremoniously dropped to the floor and the man turned back to his drinking.

Kurt scurried away from the bar and collapsed into a chair at a vacant table. He rubbed his neck for a moment, relieved to be free of the vice-like grip. Kitty managed to find her way through the crowd and joined Kurt at the table. She joined Kurt at the table, her expression turning into one of concerned sympathy.

“Are you alright?”

The question startled Kurt out of his reverie. “I’m fine. Just a little shaken.”

A barmaid swooped in and dropped some glasses of ale at the table. Kurt dropped a gold coin on the table, which was quickly snatched up by the waitress. He nursed his drink in silence, his eyes still focused on the man at the bar. Kitty, seeing Kurt’s distraction, let her mind wander and listened to the conversations being held by the other occupants.

“I’m telling you, my brother said he saw ‘im the other day.”

“Your brother is lying. He doesn’t exist.”

“Course he does. If he didn’t why would everyone know about him?”

“Logan is just a myth. He’s not real.”

Kitty listened to the argument for a few moments with interest. Then turned to look at Kurt.

“Kurt, who is Logan?”

Kurt turned around. “You don’t know who Logan is?”

Kitty shook her head. “Never. Is he famous?”

“Famous? He’s a legend!” Kurt’s jaw dropped. “He’s the greatest fighter alive! How could you never hear about him?”

“It’s not a topic that would come up at home.”

Kurt made a face “Not much is known about him. He’s a nomad, wandering around Argos. But he’s never been beaten in a fight. No one really knows anything about him. I met him once – nice guy.”

“You’ve met him?”

“Sure. I was wandering west of Daltar when I came across a pack of ogres. Well these weren’t the nicest guys – the type of ogres that like to ambush travelers. They tried to ambush Logan. He beat them all up.”

“He beat ogres?”

Kurt nodded vehemently, “With one hand.”

“And then you met him?”

“Well, he said hi.”

“You never met him, did you?”

“Of course I met him! Why would I lie about something like that?”

“Then what did he look like?”

“He was shorter than you’d expect. I really don’t remember too much, it was dark.”

Kitty looked at Kurt with disbelief. “You’ve never seen him.”

“I have too!”

“Kurt, its okay to admit it. There is no reason to lie.”

“I’m not lying! I’ve seen him!” Kurt’s indignation was so great that Kitty decided not to press the issue any further. Kurt sulked and picked up his drink. Kitty chewed her lip as she frantically searched for another topic of conversation. She looked around the crowd, hoping to find inspiration. As she was looking around the door to the tavern was thrown open and five men entered. They were dressed in chain mail armor and had large swords slung across their backs.

The crowd fell completely silent at the new arrivals. One of the men removed his helmet and ran a hand through his coarse brown hair. The bartender ran over with a scowl.

“What’s the meaning of this, Stone?” the bartender growled.

The guard, Stone, frowned. “I’m sorry for the disturbance. The mayor reported that his ring was stolen today. It’s a family ring apparently – passed down from the founders of Rafa. We’re trying to find the person that stole it. The mayor claims to have run into a kender today – so that’s our first suspect.”

Stone turned to the other guards. “See if he’s here.”

The guards dispersed throughout the crowd, searching for their quarry. Kurt had hopped to his feet and Kitty was frozen in terror. The kender tried to slink out the back but the guards had noticed him and were closing in, cutting him off from the rest of the tavern. Suddenly a pair of hands latched onto Kurt’s shoulders.

Stone walked past the ring of guards. He quickly sized up the kender with a cold glare. He pulled off one of the pouches around Kurt’s waist and looked inside, producing a small, glittering gold ring. “Stealing is bad enough in this town, kender. But stealing from the mayor is punishable by death.”

“I didn’t steal that! The mayor must have dropped it and I picked it up.”

“Sorry kender. The law is very clear,” Stone said, although his voice made it obvious that he was anything but apologetic. “Take him out of here and be quick about it.”

“You can’t kill him!” Kitty screeched.

“Stealing is not tolerated in this town and it is dealt with harshly. If you can’t obey the law then you get punished. Simple as that.”

“So take the ring back, but don’t kill him!”

“As I said miss, the law is clear on this matter.”

Kitty stammered. “But you can’t do this! It’s not fair! I won’t let you!”

“Fine. Then you can spend a few weeks thinking about what you’ll let me do in jail. Take her away.”

The two unoccupied guards moved over to Kitty and roughly dragged her to her feet. Kitty squealed in protest but her cries were ignored. The guards dragged her and Kurt through the crowd with Stone in tow, the occupants of the tavern quickly scattering out of the

“Let ‘em go.”

The guards halted and Stone turned to look at the person who made the comment. A man had risen to his feet, his hand resting on the bar. A brown cloak hung over his shoulders. His hair was a wild jumble around his head. His nose was squashed as if it had been broken several times. He glared at the guards with a scowl.

“Let them go? Why?”

“They’re just kids. They don’t deserve the punishment you’re gonna give ‘em.”

Stone frowned. “And I suppose you’re going to stop us?”

“Don’t want to. But I will if I have to.”

Stone’s lips twisted into a grin. “Threatening to interfere with an action of the town guards? I think that deserves a few weeks in jail. You are under arrest.”

The man grinned. “If you can get the shackles on me, bub, I’m all yours.”

Stone waved the guards forward. They released Kitty and advanced, one of them reaching out with his right hand. The man lunged forward and grasped the outstretched arm. He twisted his body around and threw the guard over the bar and into the wall.

The second guard leapt at the man’s unprotected back. Wrapping him in a vicious bear hug, the guard grinned. The man threw his head backwards, the back of his head which shattered the guard’s nose. The guard groaned in pain and released his grip giving the man opportunity to whirl around, his fist colliding with the guard’s cheek. The guard shouted out in pain as a few teeth shot from his bloodied mouth. He doubled over in pain and a chair slammed into his back. The guard slumped to the ground.

The other two guards dropped Kurt and advanced on the brawl. They withdrew their swords and lunged. The blades whistled through the air as they harmlessly sailed over the man’s head. He leapt forward, rolling over a table to kick one of the guards in the chest. Before the other guard could react, the man jumped, knocking them both to the ground. A few punches were thrown and the man rose, the guard did not. The last guard reached for his knife on his hip, however, his fingers wrapped around air.

“Are you looking for this? I think you dropped it,” a high pitched voice squeaked. The guard whirled around to see Kurt holding up his knife. “Here you go.”

With a surprising amount of speed, Kurt whipped his arm forward and he threw the knife at the guard. The blade pierced the armor above the guard’s right elbow. There was a cry of pain that was cut short by a fist to the face. The guard collapsed onto a table, knocking over plates of food and glasses of ale.

The man turned to face Stone. “We still under arrest?”

Stone reached down to his waist to produce a large knife. With a shout, he lunged at the man, swinging his weapon violently. The blade sung as it sliced through the air. The man dodged the first blow and reached out, grabbing Stone’s arm as he brought his arm around to swing the knife again. The two men were locked into a fierce struggle for domination. They seemed to be about equal strength, with neither gaining an advantage nor backing down.

“You are going to loose,” Stone spat.

“I don’t think so,” the man replied. He roared as a loud SNIKT echoed throughout the room. Three foot long metallic claws shot out of each of his hands. The man slashed at the knife with his claws –slicing cleanly through the blade which split in twain and clumsily bounced on the floor.

Stone was pushed backwards, tripping on an overturned chair and collapsed to the floor. He made no attempt to stand, instead he stared at the clawed stranger with wide eyes. A deadly silence descended over the tavern.

“But…but you’re supposed to be a myth.”

The man grinned. “Don’t I look real?”

Stone gaped. “It can’t be true. You shouldn’t exist!”

“Well I do. Still want to arrest us?”

Stone shook his head, the color draining from his face. “I’m not crazy. Arresting you is a death sentence.”

“Good.” The man turned and walked towards Kitty and Kurt. He placed a hand on their shoulders and steered them to the door.

“We got to get out of town – fast. No time to talk,” he said pushing them outside.

“Who…” Kitty began, only to be silenced by a glare.

“I said no time to talk. We got to go now.”

-

“Won’t they follow us?” Kitty asked as she turned in the direction of Rafa. The three had quickly fled from the town, heading east. The horizon had long since swallowed the town – leaving the three standing along a well traveled rut in the midst of a grass swept plain.

“Nah. They were local guards – don’t have any jurisdiction out here. They won’t follow us,” the man replied. He was rifling through his pack.

“Well thanks for saving us Mr. – uh…”

“Name’s Logan. And you’re welcome. You got to be more careful though. Villages out by the plains get pretty rough.”

“Logan?” Kitty froze.

Logan had placed a cigar in his mouth and lit it. He inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out with a content sigh. “Yup. You heard of me?”

“Yes.”

“See, I told you he was short,” Kurt whispered. He scampered over to Logan. “Excuse me, Logan. My name is Kurt Wagner and this,” he said, gesturing to Kitty, “is Kitty Pryde.”

Logan nodded.

“So how did you do that in the bar? The things that came out of your hands? Did it hurt? Cause I’ve never seen anyone who could do that before? How can you do that? Where do they go? Are they metal? How did they get there?”

Logan glared and gave no reply.

“Kurt!” Kitty hissed. “You’ve offended him! You have to be polite!”

“Oh!” Kurt looked up at Logan, eyes apologetically wide. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

Logan chuckled. “Didn’t hurt my feelings. You’re a kender – of course you’re curious. Just,” Logan reached down and removed the metallic pendant from Kurt’s fingers, “don’t take my stuff.”

“You must have dropped it. Good thing I found it.”

Logan shouldered his pack and covered it with his cloak. “Well, be careful in the future.”

He turned on his heels and began to start walking.

“Where are you going?” Kitty shouted.

Logan stopped and turned to face her. “Got places to go. People to find.”

“You can’t leave us out here! We’re in the middle of nowhere!”

“Head east and you’ll find the lord city of this region, Norcof. You’ll be fine there.”

“Come with us!”

“Not headed to Norcof.”

“Then we’ll go with you.”

Logan threw his cigar to the ground and violently stamped on it. “Kid – listen to me carefully, I travel alone.”

“Kitty, I don’t think it’s a good idea to make him mad,” Kurt whispered. Kitty did not listen. She marched forward until she could look Logan straight in the eye.

“Look, it’s a long way anywhere from here. And it’s dangerous. He’s a kender and I’ve never traveled anywhere. We’re easy targets for bandits. Let us travel with you – teach us how to defend ourselves and protect us until we get to the next town or where it is you’re going.”

Logan glared at Kitty – who met his glare with one of her own.

The warrior sighed. “You ain’t gonna give up, are you?”

“No.”

“Alright Half-pint, you win. I’m heading to Kimanan. It’s a couple of days’ journey on foot. You can come with, but once we get there, you’re on your own. We clear?”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Logan.”

“Just Logan. Kender – go find us some firewood. And be quick about it!”

Kurt nodded and scurried off.

“Are we going to set up tents for camp?” Kitty asked.

Logan grinned. “Here’s your first lesson kid. If it ain’t raining, you sleep under the stars.”