"Damn."

Joxer wasn't his usual happy self. His armour was tacky, his sword was moth-eaten, and his helmet weighed a ton. In short, he needed a new look. But his pockets were burning a hole where his money used to be, and he didn't have a reputation to fall back on.

This melancholy wasn't because he'd been injured in a fight or turned aside by his friends. It was because he was invisible. Not good at fighting, not good at writing, not bad at cooking, not bad at music – in short, he was Mister Average. He wanted to be respected, recognized, and talked about. Instead, he was ignored, looked down on and spurned. Well, desperate times call for desperate measures...

in the next village proved a little treasure trove, for both Joxer and the stall owners; "Here," Joxer asked a random stallholder. "How much for this helmet?"

The man looked at it doubtfully, receiving it over the counter to assess. "You wear this?"

"Never received a single blow whilst I wore it," Joxer said proudly.

"Hmm, not much use to me," the man offered, then brightened suddenly. "If I buy it from you, can I do what I like with it?"

"Sure," Joxer shrugged, intrigued to what his helmet could be used for.

One handful of dinars later, and the man took a big knife and started hacking away at the stuffing inside, big wodges of straw being discarded. Joxer's head felt lighter without the helmet weighing him down - he shook it gingerly and smoothed his hair back with a splash of liquid from his waterbottle. The helmet now looked markedly different, with the straw filling gone, and just the metal crosspiece protecting the cloth. Next, a bigger knife was inserted into the furry ear-pieces and after a couple of slashes, a couple of holes appeared on either sides. That done, the knife was placed back on the counter, and a strong-looking cord was inserted through the two holes.

"What's it for?" Joxer asked, his curiosity driving him.

This was further deepened by the object now being crammed with oats from a sack, until two thirds full. Joxer watched on wonderingly as the belt lifted its load, and secured over a large horse's head.

"Ah! A feedbag for your horse!"

"Exactly," the man smiled and the beast lowered his head happily into its new feedbag.

Everything has its place, the warrior mused to himself. Just a case of knowing what.

Next to go was his armour, which he unbuckled noisily and let his eye rove around the marketplace as to whom might want it. He did not have to wander far however, as a hand tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, is that for sale?"

Joxer turned around in surprise to see a man waiting patiently for him to answer.

"Err, yes," he answered cautiously, handing it over in exchange for another handful of coins.

"Good," the man replied and placed both pieces on a handy doorstep. Taking a hammer and iron peg, he drove a hole in the centre of each and threaded a thin rope through, attaching it to a tall staff with a looped hole at the top. The rope was secured and the two pieces of armour hung limply on either side of the staff.

"What's it for?" the ex-owner asked finally.

"I'm a wheat farmer," the man explained. "But the trouble with growing crops is the birds who try to steal the grain. Now I have this!"

The staff was given a shake, which made such a din that it caused a few dogs to bark in answer.

"A bird scarer," Joxer nodded.

"Thanks," the farmer said and moved off with his new device.

Now what? Ah - my sword and scabbard. He looked around for a Weaponsmith and found one, homing on it. There was a small queue, which he joined at the back and watched on as swords, javelins and spears exchanged hands. After a few minutes wait, he was at the front. "Hi, what can you give me for this?"

His old sword was proffered forth for the weaponsmith to examine, and after a couple of looks at it and turning it over, there was much sucking of teeth. "An old family sword, right?"

There was a nod.

"Sorry. It's had it. It's got more chinks in it and blunt edges than a forge could repair. And even if I could, I doubt it'd be worth the expense. What else do you have?"

Almost half-heartedly, the scabbard was given up and the weaponsmith's eyes lit up, as he appraised it carefully with his fingers and eyes.

"Ah, now this I can do business with. Real craftsmanship, that. Pity about the sword, but the scabbard's quality. Tell you what - instead of cash, I'll give you a swap of a good weapon for it. You'll find no better weapon in all of Greece - save those blessed by Hephaestus himself. Perhaps not the cheapest, but certainly well forged. So what kind of fighter are you?"

" - " Joxer was about to expand on how good he thought he was, when he had second thoughts and realised the opportunity he had within his grasp. "Um, not as good as I'd like to be. I can use a crossbow though."

"Crossbows are good for accuracy and range," the Weaponsmith conceded. "But not much use in a melée. No-one ever made their name as a famous crossbowman or -"

He broke off mid-sentence to greet a familiar face, "Morning, Mr. Tell!"

Joxer thought again about what kind of weapon he might be capable with. "Don't think I'm suited for a sword. Have you got something light, but can hurt?"

The smith stroked his beard thoughtfully. " One-handed or two-handed?"

"Two-handed," Joxer said firmly. "I could never get to grips with a shield, it always seemed to get in the way."

"Then this is what you need, it's called a falx. Used principally by the Dacians I believe."

A forearm-length weapon with a thin curved blade that long again was handed over. The handle was crafted from polished cedarwood, with what looked like a wickedly sharp edge. Joxer decided that on this occasion he wouldn't tap the blade in the palm of his left hand to feel the balance - it looked as though it could quite easily take a limb off.

He gave it an experimental swish, first one-handed and then both hands. Even though he was careful in his backswing, he was still surprised by the pull in the weapon. He nodded in approval and handed over his scabbard in exchange for it.

"Nice doing business with you," the weaponsmith said and looked to his next customer.

Happy with his new find and taking in the sage words that the weaponsmith had told him, Joxer invested in a small kit to keep it clean and sharp, placing it within his backpack and stashed the falx carefully in his belt. He did not intend to be the last of his line due to a stumble or mishap. Gabby had often told him that bargaining was hard work and he could believe it. Fortunately the dinars he'd made from his sales was enough to buy some bread and cheese for a few days' travel, and took a brief nibble at both before refilling his waterbottle at the village well.

Business completed, and feeling strangely free without his makeshift armour and helmet, he made his way down the road to Thebes. There wasn't anything or anyone there that he knew of, he just fancied a change of scenery. It was a good day for it too, and the fine weather encouraged his mood to start whistling as he stepped jauntily on. As his footsteps hit the road, he looked down and observed the solid paved road under his feet.

One good thing about the Romans - they know how to make quality roads. Must be something to do with efficiency of travel. As he left the town behind and entered the countryside again, it occurred to him that he ought to give his falx a try, seeing as he'd never used one before. There weren't any targets that jumped out at him however, as it was just farming land and ploughed soil. A couple of miles down the road however, a small copse of trees looked more promising. On closer examination, a sapling seemed a good place to start and he took a couple of practice swipes at it, before attacking the small tree.

After savaging it with his falx, the small tree was limp, in two and in a generally sorry state. It wasn't much of a test though, so he moved onto something with a thicker trunk to see how far it could penetrate. Alternating with an overhead slash and a sweeping slice, the weapon didn't disappoint and left deep cuts into the wood.

Both the overhead and the sweep had something to be said for both of them, it was just a case of trying to control the backswing and not trying to hit something too hard - even attacking the tree had taught him that it was easy to lose his balance mid or post-stroke. Yanking it clear from the wood, he stumbled backwards slightly, then steadied himself. He placed the falx on the ground and reached for his newly bought kit within his backpack. An oily rag was the first to be applied, cleaning off the residue and any splinters. Sitting cross-legged on the turf, he took out a sharpening stone and doused it with a little water.

He was about to start sharpening the blade when there was an unseen cry. Curious as to whether he and his new 'toy' could be of assistance, Joxer jumped to his feet and casually rested the falx on his left shoulder whilst using his hand to grasp the handle firmly to his chest. Jogging up to the main road again he could see a struggle in the distance, and he hurried closer.

It was a pair of women he could see struggling with some brigands. "Hey! Unhand those women - Oof!"

Stumbling over a rock and falling flat on his face did not exactly put the fear of Hades into these minions of menace. "Flee, Lads!" One of them guffawed. "The Lumberjack is here!"

The mistake was understandable, being as they'd heard him chopping wood, he had what looked like an axe on his shoulder and he was dressed for everyday work. They erred, but Joxer was not about to correct them - at least, not verbally. Clambering to his feet, he shot a reassuring look to the captive women and nodded his head in greeting to his adversaries.

"Now, there may be a bit of violence," the warrior began in a grave tone. Or you can just let these women go and be on your merry way...."

"Seth, deal with him," the leader of the gang said with a bored expression on his face. "Then we can divide up the booty."

One of the men walked over nonchalantly and stabbed his spear in Joxer's direction in expectation of a short fight. A moment later, Joxer was still there but the spear wasn't, as only half the shaft remained intact. The other half and spearhead dropped to the floor with a thud and Joxer waited expectantly, pulling the falx back to his side. Trying again, Seth pulled a short sword out and made a slashing attack. This proved unwise, as an overhead smash crunching into a shoulderbone proved. Seth collapsed to the floor in agony, the sword dropping from his hand.

"Pfftt! Stand aside for Borax!" The leader of the gang pushed his other men to one side after Seth's encounter. He pulled a sword like Xena's out of a scabbard and faced Joxer down. Joxer wasn't a fool though. He knew that the other was likely to be a better swordsman than he, so he pulled the falx to a ready position on his right shoulder and waited.

"Afraid of a lumberjack?" Joxer taunted his opponent and with a roar, the sword swept down in a horizontal sweep designed to cut him in half.

Deadly though the broadsword was, it wasn't swift; The falx was both as its thin, razor-sharp blade hit home, leaving a deep and bloody gouge in the side. The sword stroke of the brigand leader stopped mid-stroke as he fell to the floor, clutching his wound with both hands. The sight of his crippled two colleagues and Joxer's bloody falx standing triumphant decided the mind of the last bandit, taking to his heels at full speed. Borax and Seth hobbled off too, after a fashion, darting a murderous look at Joxer. Joxer was oblivious to such dark thoughts and was more concerned in basking in his triumph and the two women who seemed quite pleased to be rescued.

"All part of the service for Joxer the Mighty," Joxer said modestly.

When pressed for some way they could thank him, he thought for a moment. Several ideas struck him, but one jumped out.

"Just remember me."

This curious request surprised the two women but he saw them safely back onto the road to the village he'd just left with a wave and a smile.

On his own again, he held the falx up to the light as he prepared to clean and sharpen it again. On the face of it, it wasn't a subtle weapon, but then, he wasn't subtle himself. A few controlled agricultural strokes and it pretty much cut through anything – he'd bet it could even cut through armour if it was used right. It was fast too, but that was a drawback as well as an advantage; Once he'd swung the blade, it was easy to lose control because it was so light and swift. But it certainly had the edge over his old sword, plus he could move more easily without his armour and helmet encumbering him. Admittedly, he wasn't exactly the master of dexterity, so he'd have to pick his combats to use the weapon.

The falx was as good as new again and he replaced it carefully within his belt. The adrenaline of the skirmish was still pumping through his veins when he started down the road again. He wondered if this was how Xena felt all the time. The road started to slope upwards slightly, as the land joined with an accompanying river, and became more wet and gravelly from the watery deposits. Treading became trickier now as he trod the incline, then more so as the slope dipped down sharply again. It was as the bottom of the slope ten yards away that Joxer could see some company.

Sadly, it wasn't the feminine kind of company he found earlier but rather burlier in the form of archers and arrows pointed right at him. And a patched-up set of bandits he'd ran into before, bloody bandages covering the savage wounds.

"This must be the Egypt Mummy Gang," Joxer commented dryly, his falx drawn and hanging loosely over one shoulder.

"Very comical," Borax said humourlessly. "Let's see if that fancy sword can deflect these arrows..."

He was about to become a pincushion and there wasn't much he could do about it - he was a sitting duck. His falx, good as it was, was unlikely to keep him from being hit and nowhere he could run to. The sword of Damocles hung over him at Borax's pleasure and he would give the signal to fire as soon as he was tired of waiting.

Which is when Joxer had his second idea and flung himself down the slope onto his stomach and the loose stones and water sped him downhill rapidly. His chin shuddered up and down as he hurtled towards his enemy, his falx forward of him and ready to spit anything in its way. The archers let loose their arrows zipping past their target's ear and realised their error as he collided with them and sent them spinning into the river alongside. The falx didn't miss either as it speared home into Borax's kneecap and buried itself there. Picking himself up from the floor as rapidly as he could, he didn't bother with the stricken Borax and instead planted a right boot to Seth in an area where it hurt most. The last member of the gang wasn't so lucky either, since Borax was a tad on the portly side and had flattened him when he fell backwards on top of him.

"Now if you guys keep this up, I'm going to think you don't like me," Joxer mused. "Now you can all play nice and we can walk - hobble -" he added in deference to Borax, "To the nearest village to find some nice cosy cells for you to stay in. Or do I have to rough ya up?"

The bowmen were attempting to make a squelchy exit on the other bank, but Joxer had found a crossbow and bolts. He loaded it, firing a bolt just in front of them, then took another bolt and skillfully reloaded it, keeping the crossbow trained on them "This bow string's dry," he told them pointedly.

Reluctantly, they scrambled back across and Joxer retrieved his falx from Borax who wasn't unhappy to lose it. Joxer wasn't gentle about it however and yanked it free, drawing a piercing yell from the erstwhile leader. Once the six of them were together again, he chivvied them into supporting the injured parties down the road - pausing only to clean his falx in the river bank, but still keeping his - now, at least - crossbow locked on their backs.

When they arrived at the next village, there was lot of puzzled faces at the curious procession, amongst whom were Xena, Gabrielle and Autolycus. "Trouble?" Xena asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not any more," Joxer answered casually. "Hello Xena, Gabby, Auto. Can you take them in for me please Xena?"

"Sure," the raven-haired woman replied in the affirmative. "I think I can manage it from here."

She cocked an amused smile at him before leading the prisoners off to a set of underground cellars that would suffice to hold them.

"So you want to tell us what happened here, 'ole Buddy?" Auto quizzed him.

"I got lucky," Joxer said with a shrug.

"Hey!" Gabrielle protested. "You can't just march in here with a load of bandits captured single-handed and say 'Oh, I just got lucky'! It's not as though it happens everyday after all...."

"Well, if I told you, you'd never believe me," the warrior offered with a rueful smile, brushing the loose stones off and rubbing the damp dry.

The amazon Bard looked into his eyes and saw instead of bluster and bluff, nothing but calm. She gestured silently to where his armour and sword used to be and instead a wickedly sharp blade hung on his belt. She exchanged confused glances with Auto, who shrugged. This wasn't the usual Joxer they knew something had changed but he wasn't in a telling mood. Perhaps a drink or a scroll to scribe his tale might loosen his tongue later?

The man in question was oblivious to all this going on behind his back and was instead looking over the crossbow and bolts he'd taken. Not bad, but could do with a few adjustments, maybe a better quality bowstring and some decent bolts - the ones with the crossbow weren't very good quality. Taking a moment to himself, he leaned up against a signpost and pulled his falx and weapon kit out. A small brush doused with water erased any sign of blood, mud or anything at all that shouldn't be there. A whetstone eased up the long curved edge, making the edge glint in the light. He pulled a hair from his head and dropped it on the blade. The hair split as it touched the weapon, then blew away in a waft of breeze.

"Good Gods!" Gabrielle breathed, whistling softly to herself. "That's sharp!" Maybe Joxer's tale did merit one of her scrolls, reticent though he was, she'd have to talk to him about it later.

He finished off by rubbing it carefully with an oily rag and giving it an eerie shine and then replaced it within his belt, his kit likewise within his backpack. "So wotcher doing here Gabby? You and Xena, I mean?"

"Oh, we arranged to meet Autolycus here - he's doing us a 'Favour'," Gabrielle answered with a roll of her eyes, implying she wasn't overjoyed with the arrangement. "An important tapestry to two Kingdoms has been stolen and each are blaming the other for stealing it."

"So I'm going to steal it right back for them," the King of Thieves chimed in. "Plus there might be a little recompense along the way..."

"Speaking Royally, their Mint has a hole in it," the Bard pointed out.

"I wasn't talking about money," Autolycus answered with a twirl of his moustache and a gleam in his eye.

"Uh-huh."

"Still under negotiation, hmm?" Joxer asked, a secret smile on his lips.

"You got that right," his paramour said, her arms folded around her staff grimly.

"Well, they're all tucked nicely away," Xena remarked on rejoining the trio. "Magistrate'll be here in a month, so they got plenty of time to mull over their crimes. Nice job by the way Joxer."

"He just got 'lucky' Xena, " Gabrielle said meaningfully.

"Sounds like a tale and a half," Xena remarked. "Perhaps you can fill me in on it later."

Joxer nodded in acquiescence. Xena had a way of asking for information without actually asking, but people generally told her. One way or another.

"So what were you and Autolycus arguing about Xena?" the blonde asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, he was saying he was more well-known than me," Xena smiled. "I don't think so."

"Hah! I bet you if I went out on a walk in Greece, Palace and Temple Guards would be tripled - quadrupled even - overnight. That's how well-known I am."

"That's nothing," Xena scoffed. "I bet if I went for a walk in Greece, warlords would be clamouring to fight me and people would be queueing up for my help."

"Well, I can outdo that," Autolycus countered. " I can go to..."

This went on for a few minutes with each trying to outdo each other of how much more well-known they were. Joxer and Gabrielle took an interested back seat and stayed out of it, until Gabrielle got tired of the bickering. "Both of you, Shush! Look, I have a way of determining who is the most well-known out of you."

"What?" the quarrelling pair asked eagerly.

"Look, everyone knows you by sight, right?" Gabrielle began patiently. Nods of agreement. "But anyone can be recognised from the front. It's when you are recognised from the back. That is when you are well-known."

Both conceded the point but began argueing again as to who would judge them. "Next people to enter the village and recognise you, wins" Gabrielle said firmly. "That's it. No more arguments."

There were a few grumbles but the two of them stood with their back to the road facing the village, Gabrielle and Joxer stood right by them so none of them could influence the decision. There was nothing for half an hour, but the dynamic duo had their mind set on winning andtime wasn't going to defeat them. Their friends were getting restless at the long wait but knew they'd never hear the end of it if they turned around.

There were footsteps to be heard behind them, along with what sounded like hoofbeats and the wheels of a cart. Ah! the two protagonists thought to themselves. Here we go...

There was a long sharp intake of breath, then what sounded like a feminine squeal and hurried footsteps coming towards them. Autolycus grinned to himself as he stood by to welcome their embrace. The ladies always came to him after all. Xena smiled to herself - damsels in distress, always came to her after all. Gabrielle groaned inwardly, whoever won would be unbearable and the loser wouldn't stop grousing about it. Joxer was curious as to who would win.

There was a pause as the footsteps came closer, only a yard away now. And.....

"Why, it's Joxer the Mighty! Our Hero!"

Joxer turned round in surprise, and was greeted with a warm embrace with by both women that he'd helped earlier in the day.

"Did I hear that you captured those villains single-handedly?" one said excitedly.

"Well, I try, you know," the modest hero acknowledged.

"And is it true you were outnumbered six-to-one?" the other asked breathlessly.

"Perhaps," Joxer said after a moment's thought and giving what he hoped was a heroic smile, "we can talk this over a glass of wine..."

The fine young ladies seemed very happy with this arrangement and accompanied him to a nearby tavern. There was a long silence whilst the three friends took this in and stared after Joxer and his new chums. "Well, fancy that," Xena said finally, her face wrapped in a long frown.

"I just fancied them," Autolycus said glumly, even his moustaches were drooping.

Gabrielle peered at the back of Joxer's jacket to see if he had 'Joxer the Mighty' sewn on there. It wasn't. She scowled jealously after the women accompanying Joxer and made a mental note to pummel him with her staff if he made one crack about being the most well-known in all of Greece.

Joxer, was enjoying being noticed and his words being hung on by a willing audience. He wasn't pushing his luck though, for today's hero is tomorrow's flash in the pan, and within a week, old news. But he could live with a little notice now and again. It was nice not to be invisible.....

Please take the time to write to Jerry at studmuffin_jer@yahoo.com, and let him know how you liked the story!

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER:
Xena: Warrior Princess, Xena, Gabrielle, Joxer, Autolycus, and all characters who have appeared in the series, together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of StudiosUSA and Renaissance Pictures. No infringement of copyrights or trademarks is intended in the writing of this fan fiction. This story is copyright © 2006 by Jerry Hendy and is his sole property along with the story idea. This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.