Adventure Log, Session 29: Meeting Ruby and Her Dog
General Summary
Everyone present, in person, including Sarah
They were relaxing, squatting in a manor house they had no right to use. But they didn’t care; if someone came to roust them, they could go. Until then, they would appreciate the roof over their heads. They had cleaned up the place, getting rid of any sign of zombies, necromancy, or anything else that was questionable. Well, except for the surgical tables, cadaver tables, and morgue lockers. Those would always be questionable, but Elitheris had turned the cadaver tables into a butchery, where she could dress game and prepare pelts, and the hooks hanging from the ceiling were made for hanging carcasses. She would need a tanning rack for any leather she wanted to make, however, and that would be better out in the courtyard, not inside. Unless she wanted to learn the spell of Air Purifying, that is.
Elitheris, at least, figured it was a better use for the room than its previous function.
Of course, she had had to come down here and do a thorough cleaning of the place first. She didn’t want the meat she had to be contaminated by whatever nasties Vesten and his experimental creatures left behind. It had taken hours, but only when she was done did she haul the antelope and fawn down here to be dressed. She had already dressed the rabbit in the kitchen upstairs. It had tasted good, too, when roasted for dinner.
They also had finally had a chance to go through Herbert Vesten’s research journals. He had been an avid note taker, and had documented his researches and experiments with precision and accuracy.
He had been a necromancer from way back, although he got obsessed when he noticed the effects the Shards had on things. He spent years experimenting, but hadn’t had the breakthroughs he needed until recently, when he made Boots, Lerial, Patricia, and Hoskins. During this time, he hadn’t had time to run his lands, so those went by the wayside. To save money, he laid off the farmhands, letting his lands go fallow. In order to pay for the experiments he was doing, he sold off the things he felt he no longer needed, practically emptying the house of everything of value.
This was corroborated by a series of tax payments that were late, and in some cases, made in installments. There were some loans taken out that he wasn’t able to pay back. Then he died, so the loans got transferred along with the land, to the tune of 72,000 marks. He also had several estate sales, and sold furniture and artwork via a series of dealers all over the city. He even resorted to getting a job, at a pub, as a bartender.
This allowed him a small but useful income, but, more importantly, got him in contact with people. Talkative people; people he could chat with, find out information about, and then later use that information to his advantage. He had become something of a thief, sneaking into people’s houses and stealing whatever Shards he could find.
He was born into wealth, and had always dreamed of being a doctor. He trained with some very good teachers. Because he was born with the talent to be a mage, he also trained with wizards, one of which was a necromancer in secret. He and Herbert got on well together, and Herbert was always trying to find a way to cheat death. But one time he got more interested in what happened after death instead of keeping people from dying. His medical studies started slipping, as he lost interest in healing people. He was a little too focused on the necromancy instead of economics, and he started having money problems. He even resorted to getting the job as a bartender, since he wasn’t interested in getting a job as a healer. He would have made a lot more money as a healer, but he just didn’t like doing that; he didn’t like people enough, as it turned out, and had no interest in keeping people healthy, or having that responsibility in the first place. And if he had become a healer, it’s likely his “other proclivities” would have been discovered, since his curiosity about death might have shaped his healing decisions. He had to remain anonymous; or at least as anonymous as landed gentry could be.
Then he started putting together the info on the Shards, and experimenting with them. It started with the dead, and alchemy. Of course, nothing could damage the Shards; not physical force, magical energies, or alchemical mixtures. But as Herbert tested elixir after elixir, he did notice that he could change them.
It wasn’t anything really visible; just some residual elixir forming a coating on the Shards. From the ingredients of the mixtures he was using, he was able to see some patterns and make some educated guesses. He was able to make the Shards bio-reactive. Even with the dead flesh of a corpse.
He spent time researching Elven ritual magics, trying to understand how they did what they did. In some ways, it was very primitive. But it was flexible. He never truly mastered the “hedge magic” of the Elves; he lacked the deep background required, and couldn’t live long enough to fully grasp it. But he learned enough to invent his own ceremonial castings that allowed him to mate Shards with flesh.
And if they could work with dead flesh, why wouldn’t they work with living flesh? A new avenue of experimentation opened up to him, and he had to share it with some people he knew. So he wrote letters. The first ones were vague, feeling them out. After all, Necromancy was, for the most part, illegal. And what he was doing was…questionable at best. But he soon had a few very careful friends to share his research with. And they started researching too, adding to the amount of knowledge.
The tricky part was figuring out the rituals required to properly insert them into their vessels. It wasn’t technically necromancy, as it required a living vessel, not a dead one. The victims were strapped to the surgery tables, and they were surgically prepared, the properly prepared Shards inserted into the newly formed sockets. Doing this to the dead didn’t work as well; the vessel’s flesh had to be alive. Using corpses worked to a certain extent, and made more powerful zombies, but he was never able to confer the special magical abilities to them, unlike the living subjects.
Control had been an issue. The Shardzombies (an unoriginal name, but descriptive) were more powerful than their more mundane relatives, but they also exhibited some self-awareness. Zombies didn’t have that; they were simply corpses animated by spirits summoned into them for that purpose. Shardzombies did, at least to a certain extent. They never disobeyed orders given to them; there was just an occasional hesitation. Almost as if they were thinking something over. Or the orders were being relayed, causing a delay in reaction time.
The living Shardzombies didn’t use summoned spirits, at least, not in the same way. At least, they didn’t use them for locomotion, like in a ‘regular’ zombie. In the case of the ones using living bodies, the spirit melded with the body’s soul somehow. They became one, and were able to tap into the Shards imbedded into its body.
Herbert Vesten’s lab research notebooks detailed all of this, including how the rituals were to be performed. There were actually several different ones, as it took him some time to get it right. But he explained in detail what he did, and the results, so the last few rituals listed were the ones that worked the best.
In short, the Shards were prepared using a mix of alchemical substances, ritual, and spells (specifically, Loyalty, Sense Spirit, and Zombie). The Shards had to soak in a bath of alchemical fluids (a series of them, in sequence, the first of which is an acid, the second is a mineralized reagent, the third is a biological catalyst, and the last is basically a collagen scaffolding solution and growth medium). This allowed the Shards to grow the nervous system tissues that allow them to interact and control the Shardzombies.
This information corroborated much of what Nathan had told them an eightday ago. He had gotten some of the details wrong, but he had never actually done the procedure, and had it only secondhand, so a few mistakes and inconsistencies were to be expected.
Almë, Elitheris, Eykit, and Taid had a lot to think about.
The biggest question being, what to do with the information. The notebooks weren’t leaving the secret surgical room and morgue. Too dangerous; if someone got a hold of them, they could wreak havoc. There would be Shardzombies everywhere.
Taid sat, holding a pouch in his hand, tossing it up and catching it. It clinked, but not metallically. More like stone or crystal. It was the bag of Shards he carried. “You know,” he said. “We’ve been so busy running around chasing after necromancers that we have ended up with several groups of Shards that we haven’t tested. We could have some pairings and not know it.”
Eykit retrieved the pouch he had, pulling it out of his pants. He had been thinking about what Nathan had said. “I got the story from Nathan that the Shards are going to start affecting me.” If they haven’t already, he thought. “And you’re right. We haven’t checked for pairings yet.”
“Yeah,” Almë said, “we should play a game of Shards!” It was almost as if Almë hadn’t heard Nathan at all. Or didn’t care; after all, they hadn’t affected him, and he was fully capable of ignoring any effect the Shards might have on him anyway.
They had three batches of Shards: Eykit’s 23, of which two were pairs; Taid’s group of 13; and Almë’s group of four.
Almë laid his four out in front of him at one end of the large table in the ballroom. He opened a jar of pickles, and started eating them, one after another, as he waited for Eykit to get his Shards out and see if anything happened. Or Taid. He didn’t care, as long as someone put some Shards down with his.
He got tired of waiting. “Hey, Eykit! Give me those groinShards of yours and let’s see if they match up!”
Eykit dropped a handful of Shards on the table. “Here you go,” he said, backing quickly away. Almë reached into the pile of Shards, and, one by one, placed them about twelve centimeters away from his row of four Shards. No one was near him; Eykit and Elitheris stood about three meters away. Taid was in the doorway that led to the foyer, several meters away. When he had lain all ten of the Shards Eykit had piled onto the table, he leaned back in his chair. Nothing happened. He moved the Shards closer together, one at a time. Still, nothing happened.
There was a chance that if there was a pairing, it could be dangerous. Almë was the only one near the Shards. The air felt still, and tight, and full of tension. No one spoke, and no one moved, almost as if making a sound would cause some calamity. The moment passed.
“Do you want another ten, or the whole rest of the bag?” Eykit asked Almë.
“Hit me up!” Almë was sure it wouldn’t be a problem.
Eykit shook his head, but counted out ten more Shards, and put them on the table about a half meter away from the others. Almë moved them one by one close to the others. Nothing happened.
Eykit stepped towards the table and dumped his final three onto it, stepping back again.
Almë again reached out, took a Shard, and placed it about a dozen centimeters from what was now a very long row of crystals. It sat there. He reached for the second one, placed it on the table close to the others. It and a second Shard flashed, then leapt across the distance between them, slamming together with a loud clack!
Almë and Eykit suddenly got a sense of deja vu, like they had thought of something but could no longer remember what it was. It was like a faded dream; they knew they had dreamed, but couldn’t remember a single thing about it. There was a sense of “there is something I am not remembering”, but neither of them could pin it down with any detail.
“Uh, Almë, did you feel that?” Eykit asked.
“Yeah, I am trying to remember what it was, but it eludes me. That was weird.” He looked around, and tried to see if the surroundings were at all different. Everything seemed just like it had been all along.
“Taid!” Eykit said, calling across the room. “Did you feel that?”
“Um, no, feel what?” Taid hadn’t felt a thing.
“Hey, Almë, you should pick up the pairing and hold it,” Eykit suggested. Better him than me.
Almë, being Almë, barely hesitated. He picked it up. The pair didn’t feel much larger than the single Shards, but he could feel the crisp edges against his palm. He held it for what felt like a long time. “Is something supposed to happen?”
“Give it to me,” Eykit said, reaching out for it.
Almë jerked his hand back, and put the pair in his pocket. He shoved a singleton towards the Goblin. He didn’t want to give the pair to Eykit, and was feeling very suspicious. He was worried the thief would just take it.
“I want to see what’s going on with that thing,” Eykit said, in his most persuasive voice.
Almë reconsidered, being at least slightly convinced that Eykit wouldn’t just steal it. But he looked at Eykit with eyes filled with suspicion as he handed the pair to Eykit.
Eykit concentrated on the pair, much like how he concentrated on the one that allowed them to visit the Water Brane. All he felt was a slightly stronger sense that he had forgotten something. The thought occurred to him that if that pair sucked a memory out of his mind, by definition, he wouldn’t know it. It would just be forgotten and lost.
Taid came into the room, and stood next to Eykit. He still felt nothing. Eykit gave Almë the pair back.
“I think it’s drained,” Taid said.
Almë held the pair in front of Taid. “Focus on it,” Almë said.
Taid stared at the paired Shards held in front of him, squinting. He didn’t feel anything.
They tried to remember what, if any, the rules were for how the Shards functions. During the games of Shards, all of the tables tended to have people clustered thickly around them, likely to have a better chance of whatever magical effect to act on them. There was an initial effect with a certain radius that varied wildly with each connection. Some Shards had an effect that lingered.
It was entirely possible that with only two of them in range, there weren’t enough chances to remember what it was they felt they had forgotten. If there had been more people nearby, they might have had a better chance that someone remembered whatever the hell it was.
Taid’s Shards still hadn’t been matched up with anyone else’s. He placed his on the table near the others. The just sat there, unmoving. Their Shards didn’t have any other connections; just the one that gave Almë and Eykit the odd sense of deja vu.
Eykit pulled out his two paired Shards, and put those on the table too. Nothing happened. There was a feeling of disappointment; there had only been one pairing. But it was pretty rare for connections in the first place, which was one of the reasons people went to the Shardmeets. More chances to get pairings, rather than relying only on their own Shards.
At least now they knew that all of their Shards had done all of the connections between them, and they could mix and match them without worry that something might happen.
The Shards taken care of, they turned their attention to the necromancers. Kallia was next on their list; they had an idea where she was, at least in vague terms. She apparently lived somewhere in the Zirinibar Mountains, a range of peaks about 250 miles (400 km) southwest from Port Karn. That was a fair distance; they couldn’t even see those mountains from Port Karn.
Elitheris remembered those mountains, since she had spent quite a bit of time in their shadow during her wandering years. “Lots of Dwarves in those hills,” she said. “But less jungle, and more forest. A bit cooler there as well.” The temperature drop would be welcome to the Elf, she was starting to get tired of 90° (32°C) days. She was also tired of sweating constantly, and her gambeson’s rank stench because of it.
They would have to revisit the long, grueling trip to wherever Kallia might be located. None of them wanted to contemplate traveling at the moment.
They also weren’t interested in hanging around the dilapidated manor house. If they listened carefully, they thought they could hear pieces of plaster falling onto the floor tiles and hardwood. They needed some place a bit more lively and less run down. They headed into the city.
Taid, Eykit, and Almë wore their armor, fully geared up in case of trouble. Elitheris left her gambeson behind, choosing instead some light summer clothing. It was 34° C, a sweltering summer’s day in high humidity, after all. She still carried her bow and a hip quiver, though. She had to wait for them a couple of times as they panted in the shade, their thick, layered clothing making them sweat and overheat. Fortunately, Almë had been kind enough to do all of their laundry during the previous eightday, so they weren’t as rank as usual. As she waited, she scratched Mr. Wiggles, who also wasn’t wearing any of his armor. He’d have had even more trouble in the heat.
Taid also had Maggie, and Almë walked with his wife’s staff, using it as a walking stick, especially when the heat got to him. It was smooth, straight hickory, shod in brass and copper, with filigreed lines of the metals entwining all the way down its length. Like most things Elven, it was a beautiful work of art. Elves typically had the attitude “if you are going to make something, make it nice to look at.”
They reached the edge of town, the dirt paths they had been traversing turning into proper cobblestones and pavers. A half block ahead of them, they could see a pair of City Guardsmen walking towards them. Eykit started walking behind Taid, using him as a visual block.
The City Guardsmen approached, and stared straight at Taid. “Sir!” the first one said, “What are you doing with that big ol’ stick?” They meant, of course, Taid’s halberd.
“Well,” Taid responded, “we were attacked in town last week, and the attack included two fake city guards. Our friend has a contract on his head, for reasons we don’t know.”
“Really! Ah! It’s you guys! You guys are part of that!”
“Would you mind coming with us, please,” the second guard commanded. It wasn’t a request. “We have some questions for you.”
The first put his hand on Taid’s shoulder, the second guard placed a hand on Elitheris’ shoulder. They weren’t rough, but they were firm. “Come on,” the first said, gesturing to Almë, “we’re going to the station. We’ve got some questions to ask you.”
Almë rolled his eyes, but followed instructions. One guard was in front, with Taid, the other dropped back to take up the rear. Neither noticed Eykit as he faded into the crowd.
The three of them were marched about three blocks to the closest guard station. It was a fortified building, almost like a small keep. It was a three story tall L-shaped building, with a two story high wall enclosing a small courtyard. There were guard towers on at the three corners that were part of the building. Elitheris could see someone in each guard tower, watching over the surrounding neighborhood. It was likely they were there in case some criminal managed to escape; they could get at least one shot off as a last ditch method of stopping them.
Almë was stewing. He was mad at Taid for telling the guards what had happened, and he fought the urge to whack him upside the head with his staff. However, that would have been a bad idea so close to the guard station, so he managed to control himself. It was a struggle, though. Instead, he glared at the back of Taid’s head. If looks could maim, the Dwarf would have needed a wheeled chair.
Once inside the station, Taid, Almë, and Elitheris were put into three separate interrogation rooms. The doors were closed and locked, but not before the guard said “Someone will be here to talk with you soon.”
Eykit followed at a discreet distance, keeping them in sight. He went into a tavern when he saw them led into the guard station. He wasn’t interested in getting any closer, and he might hear some scuttlebutt in the tavern.
The Peasant’s Flask tavern was a dark, dingy dive. Eykit knew of the place; it served below average lagers and passable, if pedestrian, ales. For a few extra marks you could get a version of whiskey that tasted more of lamp oil than anything palatable. But it was relatively inexpensive, so the place was, as usual, packed. Plus, it was about the twelfth bell, and the sun was going down, so many of the daytime field hands and day shift workers were getting off work, and coming to blow off some steam.
In one corner, a pair of Orcs were in an argument. It was possible it would turn into something more, with flying fists and kicks, but so far the burly pair seemed to be keeping their tempers under control. This was a tavern that was heavily frequented by Orcs, so there was a section in the back corner that only looked like a dance floor. It was actually the ‘fighting pit’, an area of the tavern where Orcs could beat on each other without too much damage to the furniture, establishment, or the other patrons.
Eykit saw an empty spot on a bench, and quickly sat down.
He listened to the local scuttlebutt. He heard various things about local city goings-on, and several field hands were talking about the harvest, the weather, and what was planned for next season’s planting. But Eykit heard nothing about anything relevant, so, before the barmaid got to him to ask what he wanted to drink, he got up and left the tavern. There wasn’t anything he would hear in there that would be useful. He was about four blocks from New Square Skulls territory, so he high tailed it back to his home turf.
His fellow Skulls might have heard something useful though. They had a better network of ears than a single tavern did anyway. Once in his area, he started looking for his contacts. He saw his friend Joelle, a sex worker and pickpocket. She was usually the ‘bump’ of the pickpocketing crew, given her looks and obvious sex appeal. He didn’t see the rest of the pickpocketing crew though, so she must have been working the non-thieving aspect of her career.
“Hey, Joelle,” Eykit said as he came up to her.
“Oh, hi, Eykit!” she said with a smile. “I haven’t seen much of you lately. Where have you been hiding?” She brushed her long hair out of her face, tucking it back behind an ear.
“Here and there, when I haven’t been traveling. I’ve been out of the loop lately. What’s the news on the street?”
She filled him in on several local events. One of which was a daylight ambush involving the Everyman Jacks. “The Jacks! On this side of town! And a murderer who killed a guy in front of about nine thousand witnesses! No reason for it, just stabbed some crippled guy in the face! Shameful. What is this town coming to?”
“I know, right? We on alert status, then, watching for any Jacks activity?”
“Yeah, but no one thinks they are going to do anything. But we’re watchful anyway. They’re dangerous, after all. It’s entirely too easy to be stabbed by someone in the crowd, and they will be gone before you can do anything except bleed.” Joelle shuddered. Her job brought her into contact with a great many strangers. But she was pretty tough, and Eykit knew that she carried a pair of holdout knives on her person, just in case.
“Anyone available for a short mission? I could use some assistance with something.”
Joelle thought about it. “Not really, no. Everyone’s on alert for the Jacks, and Amaranth has us busy doing ‘revenue generation,’ as she calls it. And keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Elend has your crew doing the same basic thing. I think the high mucky mucks think that something is going down, and want extra money in the coffers just in case. I’m a little surprised you aren’t running around stealing stuff, Eykit.”
“Well, I’m on a special op for Iceman.” He flashed her one of his patented grins. “I’d tell you about it, but then I’d have to kill you, and that would be no fun at all.”
“Well, since I’m not interested in dying just yet, you can keep your secrets, Eel.”
Eykit said goodbye, and headed back towards the guard station. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew he wouldn’t have backup. He was on his own. He stopped about a street away. He didn’t want to be too close, but he did want to be close enough to react in case there was a commotion. Like if his friends broke themselves out or something.
Meanwhile, the door to Taid’s interrogation room opened, and an Orc in a City Guard uniform walked in. He sat across the table from Taid.
“What’s up?” Taid said jovially.
“Apparently you guys. I’m Tethys Gugnash. Your name?” The guard interrogator said. Tethys was a low ranking officer, about the equivalent to a sergeant.
“My name is Taid Tehoredor Lasu.”
“That tracks. Well, I’d like to ask you some questions about last eightday.”
“Sure.”
The questions started. The Orc asked about what happened with the ambush, who was involved, the exact order of events, and why it happened.
“We were coming back to town, got ambushed by three guys, then two fake guardsmen showed up and ambushed us.” Taid went on to tell exactly what happened, leaving out only anything Eykit-related. He focused on what he did, not what anyone else did. Although he did tell the guard that the wounded Orc was still conscious, hugely muscled, and likely to try to get revenge on the people that wounded him. As Jacks do. He did his best to put the blatant murder of a crippled man in the best light possible, for Almë’s sake. That beanpole psychopath! he thought. He’d better appreciate this!
He went on. “The huge Orc started out with telling us that this killing didn’t concern us, and that they would let us leave. But of course, it’s our friend, and we don’t forsake our friends. He was very threatening, very large, and his name was Jack Muscles. Muscles. And he had them, by the gods. He was huge. We basically felt that if we turned our backs on him, he would be back in the fray, because he was very menacing. Adrenaline was flowing, we’d just been attacked, and stuff happened. The City Guard showed up, then they turned on us, but we found out that they weren’t City Guard, they were just pretending. They were Everyman Jacks too. They attacked my buddy, again, while pretending to tend to his wounds.”
“So that’s why I have my halberd with me. I don’t want that to happen again, and if it does, I want to be ready. We even let a couple of the guys live. One was wounded, and another scurried over a roof and got away.”
The guard looked at the Dwarf levelly. “He didn’t get away. He fell off the roof and hit the courtyard. Splat. Broken skull, broken neck. The luck of the Hobbits wasn’t with him that day.”
“Oh. We didn’t know that.” What had happened was after the Hobbit scrambled over the roof ridge, he fell unconscious. Meanwhile, the Wallwalker spell ran out of power, and the Hobbit slid off the roof and tumbled down onto the masonry pavers three stories below, dying of kinetic energy poisoning.
“In any case,” Taid continued, “we found out about the Everyman Jacks, and that’s why I have the halberd today. Just in case. We’re trying to save some taxpayer money here!”
“I’m sure that’s appreciated. But we would like you to sheath it. We can provide you with one, if you don’t have one. But we need you to use it to peace bond your weapon.”
“That’s totally acceptable. So anyway, I don’t know why you have all of us in here.”
“We’re just getting statements. Thank you, Taid Lasu.” He stood, and left the room. The door clicked shut as he left. It was still locked, Taid noticed.
An Orc walked into the room Elitheris was in, and sat down across the table from her. “Hello,” he said.
“Uh, hi.”
“And what was your name?”
“Elitheris.”
“Tell me what happened last Jyprasday.” Jyprasday was the day of the ambush by the Everyman Jacks.
Elitheris told him what had happened. And told him that Almë was the target, but had no idea why. She also said, “And they tried to shoo us off, telling us it wasn’t any of our business.”
“Huh. That was kind of them,” the Orc guard officer said. “Usually the Everyman Jacks kill all the witnesses, too. Odd that they would give you a chance to leave.” He seemed thoughtful.
“It was also strange that they did it in broad daylight and in front of a street full of people. So I’m not clear what their intentions were.” She didn’t mention Eykit, and focused solely on her own actions during the ambush. The only thing she mentioned about the interrogation of Jack Muscles was that they questioned him as he sat against the wall.
“And how did this Jack Muscles die?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see it. I was focused on guarding the wounded fake city guardsman.”
“Ah, yes. The one called Jack Manco.”
“I think so, yes.”
The Orc asked a few other clarifying questions, then thanked her for her time. He stood, and left the room.
His next stop was Almë’s interrogation room. He walked in, and sat across from Almë. He sighed. “You are Almë.” It wasn’t a question. “I’m Tethys Gugnash.”
“So, what happened on the day you got ambushed.”
Almë replied, “I got netted, thrown onto an area with a Glue spell, got shot with a pair of arrows to the leg, and had a Dwarf hurling bricks at my head as I lay there helpless. And, once I was freed of the stickiness, there were two city guards who attacked us.”
“They weren’t the Guard.”
“Yeah, we figured that, given they all had Jack cards on them.” Almë told them just about everything, up to the part about asking Jack Muscles some questions. “After we overwhelmed them, and the fight was over, I went over to the big Orc and tried to disarm him. He was wounded, and out of the fight apparently, but I wanted to make sure he couldn’t sneak attack us. After all, that had already happened twice to us already. He reached for his knife, we fought, and I stabbed him. It was self defense.”
“Self defense, huh?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“I have a problem with all murders.”
Almë contemplated the fact that the guards hadn’t disarmed him. His staff lay leaning up against the table. In his mind, he could see himself whacking this guy on the head. He figured he could take him, if need be. But he opted for psychological warfare instead.
Almë stared into the Orc’s eyes. “Do we have a problem?”
“Of course we have a problem. You stabbed a crippled guy in the face.”
“He fought me! He tried to kill me!”
“Yes, he did. But he’d had his leg cut off, and he was just sitting there, bleeding out. He was relatively harmless.”
“I had been fighting for my life, and I still had two arrows in my leg!”
“Yeah, So?”
“If he still attacks me—“
“He didn’t, though.”
“He did.”
“That’s not what everybody else said.”
“Who’s everybody else?”
“There are a lot of witnesses who saw you stab a helpless guy in the face. It doesn’t look good for you, Mr. Almë.”
“Fuck off!”
The Orc stood, and pulled a pair of shackles out from his belt. “Hands on the table, please.”
“No.”
“Hands on the table.”
“Not going to happen.”
The Orc stepped back, and pounded on the door. The door opened and three guardsmen walked in. The room, which had seemed fairly roomy, now felt very small indeed. The City Guardsmen looked grim and foreboding. The Orc had a slight smirk on his face. The skinny Elf didn’t have much of a chance.
Almë put his hands out in front of him. The Orc nodded and clasped the shackles around his wrists. He was patted down, roughly. They weren’t taking any chances. A lot of Elves were mages, and this one carried a decorated staff. Almë was lucky they didn’t use mage cuffs on him. They then moved him towards the jail cells.
The Orc went back to the rooms with Taid and Elitheris, and told them, “We have detained your companion, but you may go.” They left, but they could see a pair of guards escorting their friend down the hallway, towards what they assumed was the cell block.
Elitheris asked the Orc, “You’re detaining him for what, exactly?”
“For the moment, questioning. For the murder he committed.”
“Murder?”
“Yes, he killed an Orc by stabbing him in the face.”
“The guy who was trying to kill him? Wouldn’t that be self defense?”
“Not at the time he stabbed him, no. The Orc was not a threat at that point. He had ceased being a combatant. He could have let the City Guard handle it, when they got there.”
Elitheris wasn’t sure who to believe. “Will we be able to speak to him?”
“At some point, I’m sure.”
“How can we find out when?”
“It won’t be today.”
“Is there going to be some kind of arraignment or something?”
“The courts will be involved, yes. He’ll get his day in court, and he’ll be able to make his case then.”
“How long is that going to take?”
“Weeks, probably. But you might be able to talk to the Tethys at the desk there and see if he can let you talk to him while he’s in his cell.”
“Well, then, I guess I have no option but to leave with my companion.”
Tethys Gugnash nodded.
Eykit, from his vantage point across the street and halfway down the block, saw Elitheris and Taid exit the guard station. Almë wasn’t with them. But that wasn’t what suddenly grabbed his attention.
There was a commotion. Not a panicky, run-for-your-lives panic, just a commotion. An almost orderly one. People were moving out of the way, stepping back to provide room for something Eykit had never thought he would ever see. It was a Hobbit. Riding the largest dog he had ever seen. It must have been the size of a pony. A huge, black mastiff, and on that mastiff was a well-dressed Hobbit woman.
“What. The Actual Fuck. Is that?” he muttered.
No one else on the street had ever seen anything like it, either. A palanquin carried by painted slaves and preceded by trumpeters would have caused less of a stir. This was something different. Riding dogs? When did that become a thing? Mr. Wiggles was a pocket dog by comparison.
The mastiff stepped purposely, at a comfortable walking speed, giving those ahead of him plenty of time to get out of his way. The Hobbit looked around, her demeanor proud and used to the reaction of lower classes. She wore what could only be silk clothing, something no one living in this part of town had ever seen except on nobles as they pranced by on their steeds.
From the whispers around him, Eykit knew that the Hobbit on a Dog was going to be the talk of the town. And hoo boy was that dog big. Massive shoulders, huge jaws, prodigious amounts of drool.
Eykit waved to his friends, then pointed down the street at the Hobbit on a dog. They shouldn’t miss this. Whatever ‘this’ was. After a few seconds of confusion, they noticed the reason for Eykits spastic pointing motions.
Everyone’s attention was on the Hobbit and her dog. Eykit was dismayed that with so many people paying attention to her, there was no way he could filch anything off of her. And she looked freaking rich, too. Her clothing was embroidered, and tailored to fit her frame. And they were definitely silk. He once heard that silk felt similar to treesilk, but cooler and slicker.
Eykit’s mind was spinning, trying to figure out a way to pickpocket the Hobbit. He thought he could do it, too, with everyone’s attention on the dog, no one would suspect that someone would be dumb enough to steal anything from her while she rode on the biggest damned pooch anyone had ever seen.
It was close enough for them to see that there was a saddle on the dog. Mr. Wiggles barked at the larger dog, his tail slightly wagging, as if it were not sure how friendly it wanted to be.
The big dog glanced at the smaller barking dog, then promptly ignored him and kept walking.
Elitheris noticed something else about the clothes. They were of Elven design. And the padding underneath, barely visible except to those who knew what it was…it wasn’t silk. It was Elven silversilk. What was a Hobbit doing with bespoke Elven silversilk? It’s not like that stuff ever makes it to market, it’s almost always made with someone in mind. How did she get it?
Ruby Smallburrow had been given an assignment. She was supposed to find someone, and bring him back to her headquarters. He was the head of a large, spread out mage guild: Artem, Tennant, and Tricola. They specialized in communication magic, and were one of the few mage guilds with the ability to actually be spread out over many cities and towns. She had been traveling for quite some time, trying to track him down. Thousands of miles of travel, so far.
Port Karn seemed nice enough. It was in the oldest part of the Empire, pretty much right where Araterre had been, before Gishi Tondene started conquering his neighbors and creating the Empire named after him. The city’s inhabitants were mostly Orcs and Humans, with the other races—Dwarves, Elves, Goblins, Hobbits, and the occasional Skyfolk—represented as well, in smaller numbers. She didn’t see any of the reptile folk here, but then, they were rare in the Empire anyway, hailing from lands far to the south and west.
One thing caught her eye, however, and piqued her interest. Standing at the side of the road near a City Guard Station were an Elf, a Dwarf, and a Goblin. No Human, no Orc. Just the three minorities. And the Elf didn’t look like a city Elf, either. There was something feral about her, like she didn’t belong in a city and barely tolerated it. The Dwarf had skin that almost looked tan, indicating that he’d been out of the Undercities for a long time, and was used to being under the sky. He even looked up at the clouds and blue sky without flinching. And the Goblin looked utterly at home on the street, his eyes flicking this way and that, as if keeping track of every moving person.
But the important thing was the dog. The Elven woman had a dog. A white and brown fuzzy bully breed.
She stopped Norolind’s forward progress with subtle movements of her legs. She reached into a pouch mounted on the dog’s saddle. She kept meaty treats in there, and she offered one to the Elf’s dog. She reached down and held the treat where the dog could reach it. “Hey, come here little buddy!” she cooed at it.
Elitheris saw the Hobbit trying to give something to Mr. Wiggles. She seemed nice enough, so Elitheris nodded and tapped Mr. Wiggles hindquarters, and he bounded off towards the big dog and its little rider. But mostly he went for the treat. His tail wagged and he barked excitedly.
Ruby scratched behind the cute little dog’s ears.
Taid said, “Good Hobbit, what brings you to Port Karn?” She was definitely not a local.
“Visiting friends. What about you guys?” While she was mainly focused on the Dwarf, her eyes flicked over the Elf and the Goblin. “It doesn’t look like you fit in around here either.”
“We are here helping our friend, who has run into a bit of trouble.”
“Oh, what happened to him?”
“He’s an idiot,” the Goblin said, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
“Well, he is an idiot at times, yes,” Taid agreed. “It’s kind of a long story, but there’re some people after him, and we were defending him. There are some questions about how things were handled. So we’re going to be looking for an advocate.” He went on. “We’ve been hanging out, traversing all the lands, investigating all sorts of interesting things.”
Eykit turned to Taid. “You really do just tell everyone everything, don’t you?” He realized that Taid had kept the description vague and ambiguous, but it was still more than needed to be said. He wanted to pull his hair out. Taid should know better; he’s been traveling with me, and didn’t any of my habits rub off on him? Note to self: don’t tell Taid any secrets! Eykit wanted to kick him.
“…And we’re going to go find an advocate for our friend,” Taid finished.
The Hobbit smiled. “That’s nice,” she said. “I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Ruby.”
The Dwarf said, “I’m Taid. That’s Eykit,” he indicated the Goblin, “and that’s Elitheris,” pointing at the Elf. “You’ve already met Mr. Wiggles.” The dog in question was running around the bigger dog, sniffing everything.
Ruby patted her mastiff. “This is Norolind.” Norolind shook his head, and foamy drool flicked every which way.
“Are you a part of a guild?” she asked. “What do you know about the guilds here in this city?”
“I’m a member of the Sentinel Group. Just joined a week ago. Working on some new spells.” Taid volunteered. No one else said anything, and Eykit certainly wasn’t going to disclose what guild he belonged to.
“Are you looking for a guild?” Elitheris asked her.
“Oh, not really, I’m just new to the area and I’m trying to get an idea of what’s what.” Ruby spoke with an odd accent.
Eykit was a Port Karn native. He was born and raised in the city, and had been an adult before he’d even set foot in the more rural areas. Taid was also technically a Port Karn native, although he spent most of his years up north in Zirak Dûm, at the south end of the Melêkurâd Mountains.
Elitheris and Almë had both came from the area near Knightsmill, some four hundred miles away, but they didn’t have much of an accent. Well, except for their Quenya-inflected Elven ones.
Ruby, however, spoke a version of Imperial that sounded very, very different from what they were used to. She had a northerner’s accent, which was found in the Kikraadi River basin. It somehow mixed in the soft vowel sounds of Quenya with the plosive consonants of Mekiitagi, in a soup of Imperial.
“Where do you hail from,” Taid asked.
“From the north,” she replied.
“Cool.” He noticed her ambiguity. And her pale skin, almost like that of a Dwarf. The people of Port Karn tended to have skin tones ranging from light brown to black. That included the Humans, Orcs, Hobbits, and Elves. The Goblins, of course, were shades of olive green, and the Dwarves tended to be almost albino. Ruby was just pale skinned.
Pale skinned traders were common enough, and Eykit had even seen a pale skinned servant in Kraite manor. Come to think of it, she had had an odd accent too, sort of similar to Ruby’s, but different.
“So, the mage guilds. All of you are mages?” Ruby asked.
“No,” Eykit said, laughing.
“I’m not a member of any guild.” Elitheris said. “I’m just a hunter.”
“Ah, a hunter? Bounty hunter?”
It was Elitheris’ turn to chuckle. “No, I just hunt game. For food. I’m an independent Elf and have lived on my own a long time and have supported myself by hunting and selling my catches and making leather items.”
“And she can put a mean arrow between two eyes, too!” Taid said.
Ruby wasn’t sure what to make of these people. One of them was a mage, although he wasn’t dressed as a court mage. He was more a mercenary spellsword. Well armed and armored, too, with enchantments. So, a successful mercenary, and one that didn’t mind standing out in a crowd. In fact, a civilian being armed with a pole arm wasn’t even allowed in Adayn. Taid would find his weapon confiscated and himself clapped in irons before he went ten paces into the royal city.
The Goblin hadn’t said much, although she had noticed him kicking the Dwarf surreptitiously when he seemed to be telling too many details. So, secretive, or just wary of strangers, and not immediately trusting. Intelligent, or experienced, or both. The Elf was pretty open, and seemed to be what she said she was.
The Dwarf Taid and the Goblin Eykit were both sweating and flushed. The Elf seemed comfortable, however. But Eykit was wearing gambeson, with a mail hauberk over it, and Taid was wearing a steel breastplate over his gambeson. In the heat, it was no wonder they were sweating. The heat here, even at dusk, was nearly unbearable to Ruby, who was used to much cooler climes. The only thing saving her was the cooling offshore breeze, although it passed over the wharves before it got to her, so it didn’t smell very good. She was surprised Taid and Eykit hadn’t passed out from heat exhaustion.
“So, are you guys in some kind of trouble?” Ruby asked. “You are wearing all that armor, and have your weapons. Are you okay?”
“We’re fine,” Taid replied. “A bit tired, maybe. We need the security right now.”
“And I’m hungry,” Eykit said. They had gone to the city for a bite to eat, but then got delayed when they were brought to the City Guard station for questioning.
Eykit’s mention of food fell on deaf ears.
“What kind of trouble are you all in?” asked the Hobbit. “Being new to this city, if there is danger here, I would like to know about it.”
“Our friend has someone who is after him,” Taid explained, “and we don’t know why. It’s been pretty traumatic, and they jumped us here in the city. They were going for him, and we came to his defense.” He paused, looking a bit sheepish. “And then I got him arrested. Accidentally.”
He went on. “We don’t really know what’s going on, and we are trying to figure it out. But we know that it’s serious for whoever wants him dead, because they hired a bunch of very dangerous ruffians to kill him. So that’s where we’re at right now. Figuring out the mystery of who wants Almë dead, and why. And now the City Guard has gotten in the way, so we have to figure that out.”
“Based on what I know,” Eykit added, “these guys are serious about taking literally any job, even the stuff no one else will take, that my group of friends don’t do.”
Ruby noted the oblique reference to “friends”. She was savvy enough to know that Eykit was involved in something less than lawful. She didn’t care; so was she, in a way. Although hers was sanctioned by her patron.
“And to deal with the City Guard problem,” Taid continued, “we need to find someone of stature or an advocate or someone to try and get him out of this situation.”
“That he got himself into….” Eykit said quietly.
“Yeah, he’s a little impulsive when it comes to the stabby stab.”
“Little bit,” Elitheris agreed.
Ruby collated this information with what she had already gleaned about Port Karn. Like most cities in the Empire, it was relatively civilized. Violent crime was rare, kept in check by the presence of the City Guard. She’d noticed as she came into the town that a pair of skyfolk circled above, each in its own airspace above the city, and rarely coming close to each other. It was as if they were patrolling, and trying to watch the city below them in some kind of flight pattern. She’d need to watch them for a longer time to be sure, though, but she’d seen something similar in other big cities.
The skyfolk were often employed by law enforcement groups like the City Guard. Their ability to see things from their unique perspective made coordinating ground troops a lot easier, which is why they were so in demand in the military as well. Military units loved having the Aarakocra providing overwatch and cover. Many military units learned some specific Windsong calls as well, in order for the Aarakocra to call directions and distances to the ground troops below. Their calls travelled farther than Imperial words did, with less garbling. It allowed for a quicker response against enemies that the troops couldn’t see, but their flying scout could.
But just because violent crime was not common didn’t mean that nonviolent crime, such as theft and fraud, weren’t. Cities were excellent places to ply those trades. Lots of victims, lots of places to hide, and plenty of distractions to make illegal activities fairly easy to accomplish.
Port Karn was likely no different than all of the other cities she’d been through. None were like Adayn, however. Adayn was a different animal altogether. It was as much a showplace as a city. Being the center of government for an entire Empire, and housing the Imperial Palace, meant that there was a much greater City Guard presence, often with elite units and officers. It was also the home of the largest military bases, both for land and sea, and those units often found themselves doing guard duty in the city as well.
The Imperial Palace was even more secure, with the addition of the Emperor’s Guard, a high number of Rooks, and the First Legion. With all of those very loyal assets at his command, everyone there was on their best behavior. At least, theoretically. There were always those who thought they could get away with things, and sometimes they were even right. Even with magical diviners, not all threats could be found and dealt with before it was too late.
But Port Karn wasn’t the Capitol; and while it was the seat of an archduchy, it wasn’t wealthy enough to pile on the security assets like the Imperial Palace could. Although, she thought, looking around, Port Karn certainly seemed fairly well-funded. It obviously had a strong economy, and the large area under cultivation and the number of fully laden farmer’s wagons indicated that they seemed to have food production under control. She’d even seen some ceremonial casting by large groups of people in the fields as she approached the city. That indicated that the farmers were rich enough to hire mages to help with agriculture.
Almë was in a tiny holding cell, about two meters by three meters. There was a bench on either side, and a chamberpot against the back wall. The front wall, of course, was just bars. There was no window.
The cell block was an eight meter hallway, with four cells on one side, and three on the other. Where the fourth cell would have been was a desk, behind which sat a guard. Next to the guard was a locked door that led back into the guard station.
At the moment, he had the cell to himself, which at least let him recline on the bench without disturbing any cell mates. All of the other cells had multiple people in them, all talking at once, and all of their voices reflecting off of the hard stone brick cell walls. It was loud, and every once in a while the guard would rouse himself enough to shout “Keep it down, ya animals!” or something in a similar vein.
Through the barred window in the door, Almë could see into the office area that the guard used for doing paperwork. He noted with interest that most of the Guard seemed to be literate, and wondered if that was something they taught, or did they only hire those who could read?
He could see, using his Elven vision, one of the guardsmen who had confiscated his things cataloguing them before putting tags on them. He pulled at the shackles that kept his hands in front of him. He sincerely wished they had removed them, now that he was in a cell.
He examined his cell. It was ashlar blocks, well-fitted and mortared. The floor was stone pavers. He contemplated the spell of Earth Shaping. He could shape stone with it as well, although that was more taxing to his system. But he could do it. He wondered what was on the other side of the rear wall of his cell, but he hadn’t been able to walk around the building before being hustled into an interrogation room.
So he had no idea if, should he make a hole in it, he would just end up in another cell. All he knew was that he was on the first floor. There were two floors above him. As he was stuck in the first cell in the cell block, his was on the end. One side was shared with the neighboring cell, but the other he figured was one of the interrogation rooms.
It was cool in the cell, which was a welcome relief from the oppressive heat of the day. He laid on the wooden bench, his body against the cool stone wall. He slept.
Elitheris wanted to know when she’d be able to talk to Almë. And the only people she could think of that would be able to answer that would be the guards in the station. “I’m going to go talk to the tethys inside. See if I can get out of him when we can talk to Almë.”
She went back to the station, and walked in. The tethys looked up, recognized her, and smirked. “You look familiar,” he said, not unkindly.
“Yep. I was just here. I just wanted to know when I’ll be able to talk to my friend and see how he’s doing.”
The low-ranking officer cocked his head, having a short internal debate. “Alan, busy?” he called over to another guardsman. The man in question stood, and walked over to the first guard’s desk. He eyed the pretty Elf, a few not so clean thoughts running through his mind.
“Just doing paperwork.”
“So! Not busy then. Go ahead and escort her back to her so-called ‘friend’. He’s the Elf in the first cell.”
“Thank you,” Elitheris said.
Alan the guard gestured to Elitheris, saying “Come on, this way.” He lead her around a corner and down a hallway, to what seemed to be another office area. She could see a man at a desk with a table next to him. On that table was a set of familiar gambeson, and some items she recognized, including Viryalassë’s staff. His plant wasn’t there, but she remembered that he had left it back at the manor house. She wasn’t sure what he was planning on doing with it, but she didn’t relish having a man-eating plant in the garden.
Off to one side, she could see a strong, reinforced door with a barred window. Through the window, she could see Almë in a cell a few meters distance beyond it.
The guard knocked on the door, heard a response, then got out some keys and unlocked the door. He opened it, and gestured for Elitheris to enter. She could see Almë, who had gotten into a seated position on the bench. The door closed and locked behind her. The guard at the desk next to her nodded at her.
“Hey, what’s up?” Almë asked. He chuckled. “Can you talk to them and let them know it was self-defense?” He then went into his version of what happened.
“And you were questioning him, and technically you weren’t fighting him anymore?”
“No, I wasn’t fighting, I was trying to disarm him.“
“But what prompted you to stab him in the face?”
“He had a dagger and a short sword and I was trying to put them away, like I did for the other guy. And that’s when he attacked me again.”
“Okay.”
“But I managed to prevent him from pulling the dagger out, but I panicked, and stabbed him.”
“Okay.” She looked Almë over. He appeared undamaged, and relatively unruffled. The guards didn’t look like they roughed him up at all. Which meant that Almë had gone quietly, which was good. He hadn’t done anything stupid.
She turned to the guard who sat at the desk, listening to their conversation. “Can we hold his things for him?”
“It’s technically evidence,” the guard replied.
“His clothing? His weapons?”
“All his stuff is technically evidence.”
“Okay, how is that going to prove to you that he wasn’t fighting in self defense?”
“Oh, it will come down to—“
She didn’t let him finish before saying, “That’s bullshit. So it’s really ‘He said, She said’.”
The guard nodded. “In a sense, yeah.”
“So, we were the ones there at the fight, who else are you listening to that is trying to say something different?”
The guard had to admit that there was something about this Elven woman that he liked. She seemed friendly, and genuinely concerned for her friend. He leaned forward in his chair, and whispered, “These are the Everyman Jacks we’re talking about. Technically, this is all just a formality.” He winked at her.
“So he’s going to be let go?” she whispered back. “And how do I know you aren’t one of those fake City Guardsmen?”
He leaned back again. “That would be a problem, wouldn’t it? But nobody here is a ‘fake city guardsman’.”
“Oh, that’s so reassuring.”
“To be honest, we aren’t sure how they got those uniforms. They were either really good fakes, or they managed to steal them, or they got them off of dead guards. But as far as we know, no guards in Port Karn have been assassinated.”
“Where do you keep your supply of uniforms?”
“In the armory, with the rest of the gear. But every guard takes their uniform home with them. So, they could have been stolen, and the guard didn’t report it. But then, it could have been stolen from an entirely different city.”
“Are all the uniforms the same?”
“It’s provincial. Everything in the Province uses the same uniform.”
Mr. Wiggles, ignored by the talking two-legs, went over and sniffed at Almë’s cell bars. Almë reached out through the bars and gave the dog some scratches. Mr. Wiggles rolled onto his back, legs splayed, twisting this way and that as Almë scratched his belly. His tongue lolled out; he was having a good time getting a belly rub. His leg kicked as Almë found ‘the spot’.
“How long is it going to be before he gets processed and gets out of here?” Elitheris asked.
“Probably two days.”
That’s what she wanted to know. There was no reason to hang around town waiting for him if he was going to be stuck in there for a couple of days. It appeared as if the City Guard was doing its job to look like it was doing its job. Security theater. They had to maintain their reputation as peacekeepers. And Almë wasn’t nobility, so having him behind bars for a couple of days while the story died down would allow them to release him without much consequence.
And it was always possible that Eykit might be able to pull some strings if necessary, as well. That guildmaster of his seemed very capable, and well-connected.
“Thanks,” she said the guard. “I’m done here.” She gathered Mr. Wiggles to her, much to the dog’s dismay, and said to Almë, “Hold tight for a couple of days.” She wasn’t sure if he’d heard any of the conversation about his status, but she didn’t want him worried. He’d seemed pretty absorbed with Mr. Wiggles.
She waited for the guard to pound on the door. The guardsman named Alan unlocked the door, then opened it, allowing Elitheris and her dog to leave the cell block. The guard at the desk didn’t have the key, a security measure just in case he was overwhelmed by the prisoners. If they did manage to subdue or kill him, they were still trapped in the cell block with nowhere to go.
She left the station, and rejoined her friends and the Hobbit. Mr. Wiggles ran to the hulking mastiff, sniffing at him. The mastiff sniffed at Mr. Wiggles in return.
She filled them in on Almë’s status, and that the guard let her know that he was basically being held on a formality, so it was likely he’d be out soon.
“So,” she finished, “there is no reason to hang around town waiting for him.”
“Still hungry,” Eykit said.
“We were on our way to have dinner,” Elitheris said to Ruby. “Would you like to join us?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ve got no idea what’s good here. I’d be happy to join you and have you be my guides.”
“I’m not really a people person,” Elitheris admitted, “but your dog is really cool. And I want to find out more about him.”
They went to a tavern. It was the White Lion, a decent tavern in New Square Skulls territory. Eykit went to work on the tavern keeper, negotiating a price for their meals that made the tavern keeper cry when he wasn’t in view of customers. Eykit could be pretty persuasive. Especially when he invoked possible discounts on insurance money. There was no guarantee of any insurance price cuts, but there were enough rumors of such things actually happening that it gave Eykit some ammunition to use when he wanted a less expensive meal than the prices would normally indicate. This time, he managed to cut the prices almost in half for him and his companions.
“You’re obviously a long way from home,” Elitheris said, once they had sat down at a table on the patio and provided their orders to the passing barman. The offshore breeze felt cool in the early evening, a welcome relief from the heat of the day.
The barman came back with their drinks, and a moment later he returned with a pair of ceramic bowls of water for the dogs. He kept the smaller dog between him and the massive mastiff, who completely blocked the path between two tables.
“Just traveling the country to get to know it better.” Ruby said. “Meeting people, hanging around here and there for a while, visiting friends. I have a lot of friends and know a lot of people around the country.”
“Must be nice.”
“Yeah! It is, it is.”
“You are obviously very rich.”
“Thank you for noticing!” Ruby said, smiling.
“Have you spent much time with the Elves?” Elitheris was still curious about the silversilk.
“Yeah, kind of.”
“Your armor is very impressive. I believe it’s Elven, yes?” It was. Obviously so, to those who could tell what it was made of. Although Elitheris had heard of some people asking Elven tailors and embroiderers to decorate mundane silk clothing, to give the impression of silversilk.
Both Taid and Elitheris could tell that the clothing—armor—that Ruby wore was enchanted. Elitheris knew it to be enchanted silversilk armor. It was very expensive, and rare. Elitheris had some idea on what it took to make silversilk armor.
For one thing, it took a mage with at least the ability to use the third level of mana. Trained mages of that ability were extremely rare. It also required a specially grown loom that was enchanted during the growing process. And most Elven settlements didn’t even have one. It required a special species of colony spider, ensorcelled to weave the spider silk used to make the silversilk. And creating each square yard of material was also an enchanted process.
It took a long time to make, and it was usually completely woven on the loom to avoid seams. Thus, they were bespoke items, made specially for specific people. The only time it was ever found on the market it was either looted off of a dead body, or stolen. And a Hobbit had some. Most silversilk garments were handed down from one generation to the next, often with minor tailoring changes to help with the fit. Celumarauca, the town where Elitheris grew up, had actually had a couple of silversilk pieces of clothing. She wasn’t sure if they still existed. They might have burned up in the fire.
And Elitheris didn’t see any seams on it. Depending upon what enchantments were on it, the clothes Ruby was wearing were possibly worth more than the manor the others were trying to get. While this was an exaggeration, it wasn’t much of one.
Eykit did some calculations, based upon his knowledge of markets in the area. A conservative estimate put the value of those clothes at upwards of $130,000. He didn’t include the value of whatever enchantments were on it; he didn’t know what they were, nor would he be able to estimate their prices, as he wasn’t conversant in magical wares except at the most basic level. It was the most expensive thing he’d ever seen. And it was across the table from him.
Eykit had seen his guild’s treasury. It had never had that much money in it at the same time.
“Urrrgggk,” he croaked out, his voice taking it upon itself to not function in a way that would possibly get Eykit in trouble. He quickly took a drink to steady his nerves. Holy shit! he thought. How do I steal that? I’d be set for life! He tried to think of ways to do it, but his mind kept focusing on “This lady has been traveling around the Empire with only her dog for company. She has probably seen some shit, and dealt with it.”
And him? She could likely deal with him. Probably turn him into a toad. Or worse. One of those red striped salamanders that were a Goblin delicacy. Just his luck; turned into a roasted snack on a stick. But he so wanted to touch them….
Elitheris glanced around. If this Ruby person was royalty, then there were likely some secret guards somewhere around. She didn’t see any, though, so either she wasn’t royalty, or the guards were very good. And Eykit didn’t seem to be worried about any royal guards, and he was pretty paranoid about such things.
She was important, somehow. Probably an Elf-friend. Which meant that she did something for some Elves, and they rewarded her with a priceless treasure. Elitheris suddenly felt very insecure about herself. She felt that her own people loved this Hobbit way more than they did her. It brought back all of the painful memories that she had spent so long trying to come to terms with.
Ruby noticed the change in Elitheris’ demeanor. What had been awed curiosity became something much sadder and darker. It was almost as if the Elven woman had crumpled into herself, like wadded up parchment.
Elitheris became very quiet and withdrawn as she dealt with her emotions. It had been a while since it had been this bad. Gods damn it, she thought. Get a grip. A grip! Under the table, her fists were clenched.
Mr. Wiggles got up and walked over to her under the table. He sat down, leaning against her legs, his head on her lap. She stroked him gratefully.
“So, Ruby,” Taid said, ever the mercenary, “are you in need of adventurers?”
“Uh, not in need, no.”
“Or just anyone to help you with an adventure that you might want to pay for?”
“Want to invest in a property?” Eykit asked.
Ruby shook her head. She talked to Elitheris about Mr. Wiggles, and introduced her to Norrie, her dog.
“Well, your dog is extraordinary. Is it even a dog? He’s so big! Where did he come from? Where do such breeds exist?”
“I call him Norrie, but his real name is Norolind.” It was Quenya, and meant “strong friend”.
“Is it okay if I pet him? Can I touch him?”
“You can ask him.”
The Elf turned to the big, hulking dog, who, even though he lay on all fours, still had his head at waist height. “May I pet you?”
The big black dog just stared at her with large brown eyes. She could detect no aggression in him, so she scratched him behind the ears. Those big brown eyes closed. His fur was short but silky.
Ruby reached into a pouch, and pulled out a few pieces of beef jerky, and handed them to Elitheris. “Dogs like treats,” she said, smiling.
She turned to Taid and Eykit. “So, you guys are for hire?”
“Absolutely,” Taid said, while at the same time Eykit said, “Definitely!”
“We need money,” Elitheris added.
“So, what do you do?” The Hobbit asked. “What’s your business?”
“I’m really good at chopping off legs, apparently,” Taid said.
“We’ve mostly been doing job board things. Although people seem to be able to find us to do other things, as well,” Elitheris stated.
“We found out about these Shards, and—ow! Stop kicking me, Eykit!—then about some necromancers who were putting them in zombies. We’ve mostly been doing work for hire. Killing some kind of servitor creature in an old temple. Getting rid of some cannibals. The usual.”
“What do you know about the Shards? Do you have some?”
“We do, a few. No interesting ones, though.”
“Do they do anything good?”
“I went to the water brane once. I came back wet, and had to wash my clothes twice.”
“Open book Taid, spilling everything as usual,” Eykit mumbled. Where, oh where, were these people’s sense of caution? She could be a spy! With a dog! A big, obvious, dog that would make it impossible for her to hide….okay, probably not a spy.
Dinner was good, drinks were better than average. They could have gone to an actual restaurant, but that would have cost about ten times as much. And all someone really got for that was a larger menu, ambiance, and a lack of rowdy commoners crowding your table. Elitheris, Taid, and Eykit were pretty poor, as was Almë.
Taid couldn’t help himself. Here was a potentially wealthy, powerful client, so it was in his best interests to play up himself and his friends to her. And hopefully get a commission, and thus money. And rich clients tend to not pay too much attention to the minutiae, so a little padding on daily expenses wouldn’t be out of line.
“We’ve had experiences. Almë I can’t vouch for. He’s a little impetuous, but we try to keep him under control because he has a good spirit, and he is first one to rush into most stuff, which is why he’s in jail.”
“Is he in a guild?”
Taid had to think about it. “I think he joined the Sentinel Guild, like I did.” Then he remembered that Almë only paid to learn the spell, at an exorbitant cost because he didn’t join the guild. “No, actually, he didn’t join the guild. I don’t think he’s in a guild. Almë’s wife was murdered, which started this whole process. I didn’t know her. But apparently it had led to what we went through lately. But we’ve been pretty successful, and most of us try to avoid violence unless it comes at us. We try to get things done peacefully, if possible.” He remembered the Orc priests, and the cannibal goblins, and the zombies. “If possible,” he repeated. “A perfect example is that we recently took out a cult of cannibals. And we killed the servitor of some dark god in an old temple.”
“So we’re pretty righteous people,” Elitheris said.
“Where did you get those jobs from?” Ruby asked.
“The servitor job came from a priest of my patron god, Aheru-Mazda. He sought us out.”
“He sought out you, actually,” Eykit said. “You devout types seem to be able to seek each other out somehow. I blame the gods.”
“So a priest came to us looking for help, because people were disappearing and no one knew why. So we tracked them down, and came across this temple, and all sorts of stuff. The Goblin thing, the cannibals…we met this Goblin who was running from them. They were worshipping Kalshebba—“
“Goddess of food and drink,” Eykit added helpfully.
“—and killing and eating people. So we just sort of stumbled on some of these, and others we’ve sought out. Lately, we just started following leads we had and taking care of problems because we could.”
“Or because we are idiots,” Elitheris said.
“We didn’t like what we were seeing, and that led to us having access to a manor where we, uh, live.”
“Oh, you have a place to live?”
“Uh, you could say that.”
“And you can blame Almë for that too,” Elitheris quipped.
“It has most of a roof, and almost all of the walls,” Eykit joked. He was exaggerating. The house was suffering from deferred maintenance, but it was still sound, structurally. And as far as they new, the roof didn’t leak.
“But I don’t want to manage an estate!” Elitheris complained. “I’m annoyed I’ve gotten sucked into this. I don’t want to do this.” She shook her head. “He’s like ‘We’ve gotta have a house! We gotta hire people! Get some farmers, raise our own food!’ And I’m like ‘Dude, I live in the jungle, and hunt things’.”
Eykit looked over at the pained Elf woman. “There’s a nice chunk of jungle right behind the house….” He shrugged and gave Elitheris a half smile. “You can live there.”
She glared at him. “That’s fine.”
“That means you guys…how did you meet? You don’t seem like you grew up together.”
“We are a totally accidental partnership. It just sort of happened because of something that was happening outside of Port Karn.”
She turned to Taid and Eykit. “How did we meet, anyway?”
“You were by yourself,” Eykit said. “And I was, uh, tactically retreating from some folks in the criminal underground. I found this guy,” he indicated Taid, “who looked burly and strong, and big enough to hide behind. Then Taid and I stumbled upon Elitheris here. And Taid had a job to go kill a hydra, and he was looking for some help to kill it.”
“Did you? Kill it?” Ruby asked.
“Oh yeah,” Eykit said. “But not without incident.”
“Freakin’ Eykit,” Taid said.
“I’m a city boy! I didn’t know what I was doing! It was the wilderness.”
“He decided to steal the hydra eggs.”
“Collect! Collect the hydra eggs!” Eykit corrected. “The hydra was dead at the time. Besides, in many cases, trauma draws people together. Which we had a lot of.”
“There was the reek Taid stepped in,” Elitheris mentioned.
“And the man-trap plant that I had to rescue both of you from.”
“We could have used somebody with plant magic!” Eykit said. ”Where was Almë then?”
If they ever have to traipse through the jungle again, Almë will be really handy to have around, once he was out of jail.
“So, yes,” Taid said, “We have this manor, but we haven’t fixed it up yet since we are still going through the process of getting permission to get control of it. It was the manor of someone whose responsibilities we relieved them of.”
“We also relieved him of the responsibilities of having to breathe,” Eykit added. He still remembered the Hoskins-thing and the meat hook he almost got impaled on.
“These were bad people,” Taid said hurriedly, not wanting Ruby to get the wrong impression of them. “This one had at least four of five living people acting as zombies. He also tried to rob and then kill us. So, he wasn’t a good person, and now we have his place. It’s not in great shape right now, but we are too poor right now to fix it up, and we don’t really want to fix it up until we get ownership and usage rights. But we need some influence with the nobles and things like that to get things squared away.”
“We need somebody wealthy,” Eykit said.
“Wealthy and influential.”
“We need an investor,” Elitheris said.
“Actually, we need ownership first, before an investor. We don’t want to fix it up only to have it taken away from us.”
“That’s true. So we need an influencer.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying. And maybe money is the influence?”
“Maybe.”
That gave Ruby some things to think about, if she wanted to get involved with these people and their schemes. But she was on a mission, and that took precedence. She could visit the mayor of the city, and let them know she was in town, as a courtesy. But it wasn’t necessary. Sometimes she would do that, other times she wouldn’t. It depended on how she felt about what she heard about the local government. If she felt it would be wise to curry favor with them, then she would let them know she was in town. Otherwise, if they weren’t of use to her, she would be more stealthy.
But for Port Karn, keeping a low profile was better. As low profile as a Hobbit riding the biggest dog around could be. Central, the nickname for Domestic Imperial Central Knowledge and Intelligence Group, had given her a great amount of leeway in how she was to do her job.
Ruby had a second dinner. It was almost as if she hadn’t just ate. Eykit was amazed how much the Hobbit woman could ingest. He was familiar with Hobbits, and their six meals a day, after all, one of his best friends, Amaranth, was a Hobbit. He had the feeling that Ruby usually had nine. He had grown up poor, on the street. Many nights had been empty stomach nights, so he had never really eaten that much. As a young boy, he’d been in the habit of eating only half of what he’d found, saving the other half for later. There was no guarantee that he would find more, so it was wise to save it.
Ruby found the three of them interesting, but didn’t hire them on the spot. She’d have to think about that for a while. She went off to find an inn. Eykit was able to point out a couple of the higher end ones in Skulls territory; if the locals were wealthy and successful, so was the guild. After she left, he talked to some of his guild mates, letting them know about her and to make sure she wasn’t robbed or hassled. She was a potential ally, and there was no reason to scare her off. Besides, anyone wearing what she was wearing was likely very dangerous.
Eykit, Taid, and Elitheris made their way back to the Manor.
She was focusing mainly in Port Karn’s Old Town areas, within the ancient protective walls that the city had overgrown. There were more wealthy people there, and more of a chance to get word about her target.
By asking the right questions of the right people, she eventually found out about the city’s mages’ guilds. The Port Karn Agricultural Council was the largest and most powerful, and the only guild with an enchantment division. It was also something of a farmer’s union, a farming planning council, and the center of food logistics for the city. They were as much a division of government as mage guild, and thus had more political power than the others. From what she could tell, they were relatively uncorrupted, and seemed to take their charter seriously. It helped that they also were the richest, so had little incentive to break laws and gain profit via criminal means. They did just fine without having to “cheat”. Although she figured that there were corrupted individuals in the organization; there always were.
The Elementalists Guild specialized in the elements: Air, Earth, Fire, Water, Light, and Sound. They were the second largest mages’ guild in the city. They were what people thought of when they thought of “mages’ guild”.
The Some Group specialized in magics affecting bodies and minds, with particular focus on healing magics. While not as altruistic as the Red Star, they would often help out during catastrophes and accidents, often donating their services when necessary.
The Red Star was the premiere guild when it came to healing. They operated several hospitals around town, providing medical care to the people of the city. Some of for only a small fee (and sometimes for free). In addition to healing mages, they also had mundane doctors, herbologists, and alchemists on their payroll. In a sense, they were also a very large mages’ guild, if all of their non-mage employees were included.
The Sentinel Group primarily worked with Protection and Warning spells, Movement spells, and, to a lesser degree, Elemental spells. Their focus was on bodyguard, protection, and security for their clients. What they didn’t advertise was that they also did surreptitious observations—spy work. Ruby was aware of this, as it became obvious to her from what they didn’t say when she asked her questions.
There was also the Engineers’ Guild. They focused on Making and Breaking, Earth, Water, and Light spells. They were responsible for many of the infrastructure projects in the city, even if the work didn’t involve magics. Most of their mages were also craftspeople of one stripe or another.
And last but not least, Artem, Tenant, and Tricola specialized in communication and knowledge magics. Their guild hall in Port Karn wasn’t overly large, but that was deceptive. Being able to communicate instantly gave them the ability to have what amounted to franchises in different cities, so while they weren’t large in any one city, the fact that they could be found in most large settlements meant that they were one of the largest guilds in the Empire.
More important than the names of the guilds were the locations of their headquarters. Most seemed to be in the older part of town, likely because they were old themselves, and had the land before the city expanded past its walls, or because that is where the money was. And where the money was, mages soon gathered to take advantage of the markets.
Like any craftsman, they went where there was a market for their services, and magic services didn’t come cheap. The poor could rarely afford magical aid. So having the guild in poorer areas was a waste. The Red Star Guild seemed to do alright, although from what Ruby could glean they were subsidized by the city, and treated much like part of city infrastructure.
But it was Artem, Tennant, and Tricola, however, that Ruby was interested in. She paid particular attention to anything she heard about them.
Following up on a hunch she had about Eykit, she also asked about the local criminal underground. She didn’t get many details, as no one who really knew anything trusted her with sensitive information, but she was able to get a list of many of the thieves’ guilds and their approximate territories. Judging from the area Eykit seemed most comfortable in, she determined that he was a New Square Skull member. She filed that information away, for later.
Meanwhile, Elitheris spent the next two days trying to find a decent woodworking shop that she could pay to use. She wanted to start building her bow, but had none of the tools she needed to do so. They weren’t something that she could carry around with her on her travels; they were bulky and heavy, and she also required workbenches and jigs. None of which she had.
Perhaps, one day, she might be able to have a workshop at the manor, if they ever manage to get control of it.
In the meantime, she needed to borrow someone else’s tools. And she was willing to pay for the privilege. Every time she’d come to town, she’d kept an eye out for carpentry shops, knowing that one day she would need their services. So she knew where to look for at least the first few places to try. She needed a friendly, well-appointed shop with skilled craftspeople who would let her come in now and again to spend a few hours working on her project. It would help if they had someplace she could store her materials when she wasn’t there working on it.
Almë was released after the two days. As an Elf, he barely noticed the time; it was occasionally loud, but he was able to ignore that easily enough. Two days was slightly longer than a blink of an eye to someone who could live for over a millennium.
The City Guard gave him all of his stuff back, even his Shards. He was a bit surprised by that, actually, given how the Shards were so coveted. But apparently, these guards were honest. Who would have guessed?
When the guard placed the Shard pair in his hand, he got a flash of inspiration. This was the Shard pair that had given him and Eykit the sense of deja vu, and now he thought he knew why. It had to do with dreams. The pair interacted—somehow—with dreams.
He hoofed it back to the Manor. He was glad to be free, and thankful he hadn’t needed to go before any judges. That might have been awkward, and no guarantee of freedom, especially since there were so many eyewitnesses who didn’t corroborate his story. The weight of evidence would have been against him.
And he could thank the Everyman Jacks for that. By being such thorns in the side of law enforcement, his killing of one (in self defense) was being swept under the proverbial rug.
He opened the front door to the manor house, stepped inside, raised his hands over his head, and loudly said “Almë’s back! Woo! What up?”
It was morning. He was out of jail. And he needed money to fix up what he insisted was “Almë Manor”. No one else called it that, and shut him down as soon as they heard it, but it didn’t seem to stop him from renaming the place.
But he gathered everyone together to discuss the finances. “So, he said, what is our next plan? We need money…any ideas as to what job we want to take next? Jobs in the city? Go after the other necromancers? Rescue some blue babies? Although they’re probably purple at this point.”
“We met this Hobbit in town,” Taid said.
“Which Hobbit?”
“Her name is Ruby.”
“She’s got a very expensive outfit,” Eykit said.
“Tell me more about this!” Almë said.
“Just saying. Hobbit, on a big dog, and she’s rich.”
“We think at least a hundred thousand,” Taid added.
“What? A golden dress, or what?” Almë sputtered.
“Elven silversilk,” Taid stated. “Enchanted.”
“I thought you said she was a Hobbit?”
“Yep.”
“What the hell is she doing with silversilk?” Almë knew that silversilk was a difficult and expensive thing to create. How did a non-Elf get their hands on any?
“But she seemed pretty cool, and if we run across her again we may end up doing some work. She asked if we were for hire.”
“This is a good sign,” Eykit mentioned.
“To do what?” Almë asked.
“I don’t think she was willing to pay us in clothing,” Eykt said.
“She wouldn’t tell us, yet,” Taid said. “But yeah. She seems to have nobility, so there might be some avenues forward.”
“Well that sounds way better than doing stuff for free,” Almë admitted.
“Yeah, it’d be nice to find some paying work.”
“So, where can we find her?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not a great plan!” Almë laughed. “What’d you do, lose her?”
“She went off to her own thing. It’s not like we have a Seeker spell on her.”
“Well, it shouldn’t be too hard finding a Hobbit in silversilk.”
“But she knows we’ll be looking for her,” Taid said. “Maybe she’ll ask around looking for us.”
“Everyone’s going to know about the Hobbit on a dog. There is only one. It’s not like she can hide.”
“Okay, we have a plan, such as it is,” Almë said. He went to freshen up and water and feed his plant. It bivalve leaves snapped closed around the beetle Almë had found for it.
Then he went downstairs, intruded upon the alchemist in the lab, and interrupted his delicate precision work with a mundane request to feed and water his plant when he’s gone. Fortunately, Ekain was competent, didn’t mess up the titration he was in the middle of, and didn’t blow up the lab taking himself and Almë with it.
“How long will you be gone,” Ekain asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Almë answered. “Have a great time.” He turned to leave, got as far as the doorway, and turned back to the alchemist. “By the way, are the potions ready?”
“No.”
“I thought you said seven days?”
“It’s been six. It’ll be another day.” They had been ready two days before, but Ekain didn’t like getting interrupted and given a trivial plant-sitting task. He was actually in the middle of starting the next batches of elixirs, this time Fetching and Carrying, and Fire Resistance. The lab was a joy to work in.
“Okay.” Almë noticed a satchel by the door. “Hey, what’s this?”
“That is some miscellaneous stuff I was able to work on in between the times when I had to focus on the elixirs I’m brewing. Glues, varnishes, industrial grade acids. Stuff like that.”
“Oh.” He went back upstairs.
It was time to seek out the Hobbit and her dog. They headed into the city.
They asked around about her. The third person they questioned said that there were some rumors about a Hobbit and a big dog in the old part of the city.”
They headed north, following Third Street all the way up past the old walls and into the heart of Port Karn.
“Now what?” Almë asked.
“Mr. Wiggles should be able to pick up on his scent,” Taid said, referring to Norolind, the dog.
Elitheris shrugged, and let Mr. Wiggles sniff things. They went up and down different streets, into alleys, out of alleys, following along after the dog. Mr. Wiggles left his mark on a great many trees, building corners, planter boxes, and piles of garbage. He seemed to spend a lot of time at street vendors, usually the ones roasting meats.
“Surprise, surprise,” Eykit complained. “The dog goes where the food is.” He was getting tired of tramping through crowded streets in the heat of the day.
“Well, that makes sense,” Almë said, “Hobbits like food too.”
“Well, I don’t think he knows what he’s supposed to be looking for.”
Eykit asked the food vendor, a Goblin, who stood on a crate to see over his cart. “Hey, we’ve heard that there’s a Hobbit in town with a really big dog.” The vendor turned a crank that rotated a roasting chicken over hot coals. He basted it with a spicy pepper and honey glaze.
“One she rides?”
“Yeah! Cool, right?”
“Yeah, biggest fucking dog I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ve never seen a dog that big. Any idea which way she’s going?”
“Well, when I saw her, she went that way,” he said, pointing down the street. “But that was a day ago.”
“Ah, a day. So she hasn’t been back around here?”
“Not today, no. I’m hoping they show up, because that dog eats like mad. Even more than she does. And she’s a Hobbit!” He placed a few sausages on the grill, under the rotating bird. He glanced down at Mr. Wiggles, who looked back at him expectantly.
“I’ve never seen anyone eat so much! And she’s only my size!”
“Hobbits can really pack it in.”
“So that dog is pretty amazing, right?”
Mr. Wiggles barked once.
The Goblin nodded. “Makes a pretty good mount, surprisingly. I’d hate to be on the business end of his jaws, though!” He chuckled.
“Is the dog pretty fierce?”
“I imagine so…a dog like that, sure.”
“Well, thanks a lot.”
“Although this one seems pretty chill…it barely even barks.”
As if on cue, Mr. Wiggles barked again. Multiple times.
Eykit looked down at Mr. Wiggles, who was seated by the corner of the cart, tail wagging, and barking to get the Goblin’s attention. “Unlike this one over here, huh?”
“Yeah, your dog barks a lot.”
Taid thought about Ruby, her dog, and travel. “If we ever go anywhere with Ruby, we’ll have to bring another pack animal carrying nothing but food.”
“I bet that dog has massive shits, too,” Elitheris said. “You’ll need to watch your step, Taid.”
“Yeah, I’ll probably step in one, and it will damage my armor.” Taid remembered the reek.
The others were still looking for Ruby, though. They moved to another section of town, no longer following the sniffing Mr. Wiggles. They had decided that people who work on the street—food vendors, shop keepers—would have a much better chance of seeing a Hobbit riding a huge dog.
After questioning a few people, they came across a grocer at a bodega, sweeping between his tables of vegetables. “Yeah, I saw her this morning,” he answered. “She went that way.” He indicated the direction with the end of his broom.
“Let’s look for local eateries,” Taid said, grinning.
They went about two blocks, turned the corner, an immediately noticed an odd traffic pattern. Pedestrians were avoiding an area at a cafe a few buildings down the street. As they got closer, they noticed that in the center of the avoided space was a big black dog, and, next to him at the table, was a small Hobbit.
“That’s a fucking big dog,” Almë said. It must have weighed 90kg (200lbs).
“Told ya,” Eykit said.
Ruby was having elevenses at a cafe across the street from the headquarters of Artem, Tennant, and Tricola. Norrie lay on the patio next to the table, a large space around him that none of the other customers or staff wanted to enter. The dog seemed relaxed, but his jaws were big enough to engulf someone’s head, and no one wanted to disturb him.
The building she was watching was a three story brick building, with a large sign spelling out their name over the awning that shaded the ground floor.
Almë pushed Eykit forward, towards Ruby’s table. “Go talk to her, get us a job.”
Eykit glared at him. He didn’t like being pushed. Well, nudged, really. Almë hadn’t met Ruby yet, so him talking would be a bad idea. Actually, him talking ever was a bad idea. He noticed that she wasn’t wearing that beautiful silversilk. She was wearing a blouse of lightly embroidered treesilk, and matching pants. Although, he supposed, she could be wearing it underneath the treesilk clothing.
Hiding it made sense; she already stuck out like splinted leg with that big dog of hers. There was no reason to advertise the fact that she was an Elf-friend as well. Being an Elf-friend wasn’t a bad thing, but displaying the kind of wealth that the silversilk represented would be problematic. It was hotter, adding another layer to the already thick garment, but the increased discomfort was worth it. So far. How did the locals manage to live in this hothouse? She wiped sweat from her brow with a handkerchief.
On the table were several empty plates, with food residue on them. Another plate of fried potatoes sat in front of her, which she was nibbling on. There was a big stein of mead on the table as well.
“Hey!” Eykit said to Ruby, “ol’ buddy ol’ pal!”
Ruby raised an eyebrow. She remembered these people. Well, she didn’t recognize the beanpole Elven man, but she figured that it must be the jailed guy they had mentioned.
“Hey guys, how are you doing?”
“How’s your visit been so far?” Eykit asked, snitching a potato off of her plate. It wasn’t meat, but he chewed it anyway. In fact, there was no evidence of any meat on any of the plates that lay on the table. It seemed to be all vegetables or breads. Vegetables are what my food eats, he thought, still tasting the fried potato he’d snitched. He looked around for a street vendor selling something with meat in it, in case the potato taste didn’t fade away.
“Very good, very good. Just visiting with some friends. Hanging around.” She popped another fried potato into her mouth. She hadn’t seemed to mind that Eykit stole one off her plate. “And the food is excellent! As you can see, I’ve had a little snack.”
“We just happened to be in the neighborhood,” Eykit said. “Let me introduce you to our friend who had been incarcerated under trumped up charges. Everything’s fine now.” He grabbed Almë’s sleeve. “This is Almë. He’s a little impetuous and spontaneous.”
Almë rolled his eyes. “They are exaggerating.”
Taid and Elitheris, behind Almë, both shook their heads at Almë’s disclaimer. No, it wasn’t an exaggeration.
Ruby nodded. The impression she got from him was that he was the rare breed of Elf that wasn’t jovial, and likely didn’t like to dance like other Elves. Probably didn’t sing much, either. In short, kind of a downer.
Actually, Elitheris, whom she’d met earlier, also sort of fit that description, although there was a difference. Elitheris seemed hurt by something, and was suffering some kind of pain. Almë seemed more focused on causing pain. She didn’t get the sense of cruelty from him; he wasn’t a psychopath, as far as she could tell. There was just a kind of underlying anger in him. Perhaps both of the Elves had been hurt, but had different ways of dealing with the pain.
“Ask about a job,” Almë whispered to Eykit.
Eykit kicked Almë in the shin.
Eykit started selling Ruby on how great they were at going out and solving problems, getting the bad guys, and dealing with stressful situations. They seemed to specialize in taking out dangerous cults. They were a great team that could do just about anything.
Ruby saw right through it. She cocked her head, amused at the little man as words tumbled out of his mouth as quickly as he could form them. She figured that the Goblin would be very good selling used wagons.
“Do you have any sneaking skills?”
“Oh, I have sneaking skills!” Eykit said.
Ruby noticed that Mr. Wiggles was wearing armor. A gambeson with chainmail atop it. Interesting, she thought.
“Most of us,” Eykit continued, “have pretty good sneaking skills, except for Taid.” But he wasn’t sure she’d heard him, as she was focused on petting Mr. Wiggles and saying how cute he looked in his chainmail sweater.
Ruby sat down next to the dog, scratching him under his chin while his tongue lolled out. He licked her. She thought he was so cute and little. He weighed 50lbs (22kg)…he wasn’t all that small, unless he was next to the immense mastiff.
Norrie glanced over at her, gave her a look, then put his head back down on his paws with a huff.
“Uh, the dog is good at sneaking, too,” Eykit said, still trying to sell their skills.
That seemed to get Ruby’s attention. “Oh, he is?”
“Yeah, the dog comes as part of the package. He’s actually a very good fighter.”
“Okay.” Ruby turned her attention back onto Eykit. Eykit really wasn’t used to not being the center of attention when he was trying to be. It threw him off his game.
“It’s amazing how much healing we seem to focus on the dog. Instead of ourselves, we’ll jump to heal the dog. Because he’s our buddy. He’s a good boy.”
Ruby brought the conversation back to her original point. “So, you can be stealthy?” She had been expecting a short answer. Eykit didn’t oblige.
“Well, that depends on what you are looking for,” he said. “There are all kinds of stealth. There is a difference between hiding and following someone, for example. And there is a difference between hiding behind some barrels and hiding in a crowd, in plain sight. It really varies depending upon the circumstances. Sneaking into someones house and stealing stuff is very different from following someone without being noticed.”
As a way to make his point, Eykit sneaked his hand into Ruby’s pocket. Ruby, however, was on to him. “You want to lose that hand?” she said to him.
Eykit smiled, shrugged.
“So, not a good thief, then,” Ruby stated.
“My pickpocketing skills are a bit rusty,” he said defensively. “Haven’t really done it since I was just a kid.”
Ruby considered. She really didn’t want to hire them. Her funds weren’t unlimited, but something about their manner told her they were competent. But she did see them as useful. Perhaps they would let her join them? That way, she could get their assistance without having to hire them.
“Maybe I can join your crew,” she offered.
“Are you sure you want to slum with us? We don’t stay on the good side of town. This,” Eykit gestured at the surroundings, “isn’t our kind of people.”
“What kinds of things are you doing right now?”
Almë explained the necromancy experiments that they had found out about, and how they had stopped Herbert Vesten and Lennerd Fountainsmith. He pointedly didn’t mention Nathan. He also admitted that they weren’t really sure where they wanted to go next; they had some clues, but they didn’t exactly know where the other necromancers were. “But we are also desperate for cash.”
“We are mainly supporting ourselves from what we’ve gotten from the dead bodies of the people that we killed,” Eykit explained. “Let’s be honest.”
“You have a home, but it’s not your home right now? What’s the story on that?”
“We’re, uh, working on that,” Almë said.
“Well, talk about looting,” Eykit said. “We looted a whole house. Not the stuff in the house. We looted the entire structure. Such as it is.”
“We were walking by, slipped the house into our pocket, and no one noticed,” Taid quipped.
“We took it, no one complained,” Eykit asserted. “Basically, it’s spoils of war.”
“Yeah,” Taid said, “but to fair, now we have manners.” Well, one Manor.
Eykit kicked Taid in the shins for the bad pun.
Almë knew that the Port Karn Agricultural Council had a vested interest in getting the Vesten lands back up and producing again. Perhaps, if he offered to work on the lands, they might go to bat for him and his friends. Although that would likely involve him joining PKAC. Which didn’t thrill him; they were primarily plant mages, and his wife had been working on a Plant Growth spell variant. What if they were the ones behind her murder?
Almë would have to at least talk to PKAC. It was a big guild. It was also possible that the whole guild hadn’t been in on the murder, and that only a small group within it perpetrated it. In which case, getting into the guild and being able to get information from inside the organization might be useful.
But besides the issue of the Manor, its lands, and its structures, there were still the necromancers to deal with. “We still have some clues, and Lennerd escaped. One of them, Kallia—she seems very dangerous.” Nathan had said that she was the only one of the circle of necromancers than scared him. He felt he could have taken any of the other necromancers, but Kallia he was iffy on.
He went on, “And there were the rumors of the blue babies.”
Ruby made up her mind. “Maybe I do need some help. I can’t explain the details yet. I need someone to observe some people and help me figure out what’s going on. I need some help figuring out who they are and what they are doing. There is a building I need to observe, and maybe have someone go inside and look for some specific people.
“Do you have own or have access to this building?” Eykit asked.
“No, not yet.”
Taid said, “I’m super stealthy.”
Elitheris looked at him. “No you’re not.”
Taid was the person who made everyone else stealthier. By comparison. And by acting as a distraction.
“Maybe,” Ruby said, “you won’t necessarily need to be stealthy. You might just need to be good at talking.”
Eykit’s pointed ears perked up, swiveling to focus on Ruby.
“You guys look like a very diverse group, so it’s likely you have the skill sets I’ll need.” She paused, looking at them one by one. “If you help me, what’s your price?”
“Well, number one,” Eykit said, “do you expect there to be any killing involved?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“How illegal is what we are doing?” Eykit didn’t really care, but he knew Elitheris and Taid did. They were, in general, pretty reluctant to break laws. Almë…Almë probably thought Human laws only applied to ephemerals, and he’d likely outlive the law anyway. But he seemed at least slightly hesitant to wantonly flaunt the law.
“The job that I need you guys to help me figure out is what is going on in that building, over there.” She pointed with a potato over at the building marked “Artem, Tennant, and Tricola”.
The crew glanced over in that direction. They saw a three story office building. With the name of a mage guild plastered across it. An awning provided shade for the sidewalk and first floor. There was also the guild symbol, a blue circle, shaded in such a way as to appear to be a sphere. They also knew that the mage guild focused on Communication and Knowledge spells. Mostly they knew them as the mages who could send messages very quickly, without having to wait for horses, wagons, ships, or even the skyfolk.
Eykit thought about it. “Almë, you know any of those spells?” The Elf shook his head. “Could you be taught those kinds of spells?”
“I suppose,” he answered.
“I wonder if you were interested in training with and/or joining this mage guild?” He smiled at Almë.
“Can you join two mage guilds?”
“I don’t know, but you can at least express interest in them.”
“Daisey Dubrow,” Taid said.
“Oh, yeah. Her.” Eykit replied. “She’s a mage, lives in Port Karn. West side, I think. She’s a member of a couple-three mage guilds, or so I hear.” She was a community organizer, freelancer, and troublemaker. So being a member of multiple guilds was possible, if expensive.
“So,” Almë asked Ruby, “what should I find out again?”
“Just general stuff, who’s in there, what are they doing, the names of people who are in the building. Infiltrate them, and get the information.”
Ruby tried to figure out who the best person to get into the guild would be. She knew Taid was a mage, although based upon the way he carried himself, he was soldier more than mage. His spells were just one of the tools in his toolbox, not the majority of them. Elitheris was a mage, but her skills were rudimentary at best. Almë seemed to be the only real choice.
And judging from what she had been told about Almë and his proclivities, that worried her a little.
“So,” Ruby said, “what do you think? Can you do the job?”
Almë wondered if the mage guild had a members’ roster. If they did, maybe he could steal it. Or at least get a look at it, and remember at least some of the names.
“Okay, I will check them out. Who am I looking for? What do they look like?” Almë asked. “Description, name….”
“Are you looking for someone in particular?” Eykit asked. So far, the job, as described, was very ambiguous. He was no stranger to doing jobs for unknown motives, but so far, he didn’t feel like they had enough information about what the job was to have much of a chance of being successful at it.
“Maybe. I just want to know—“
“If we’re going to work for you, we’re going to need more specifics than ethereal people.”
“Yeah,” Almë said, “What should I memorize if I go in there and ask for stuff?”
Eykit wasn’t done. “It feels like you’re being evasive.” He held up his fingers in a pinching motion. “Just a little bit.” He knew Almë thought he could do the job, but Eykit had done enough casing and observing jobs to know that Almë didn’t know what he didn’t know. And that would immediately get him into trouble.
“Okay,” Ruby said, acknowledging the point that if Almë was to be successful, he had to have at least some idea what the victory conditions were. In order to hit a target, you had to have some idea where the target was, and that there was a target there. “The information to focus on is the important people there: the VIPs, anyone they may be hiding, or anything else suspicious going on there. They say their business is communications magic and knowledge magic. Anything outside of that might be considered suspicious.”
“You think they have somebody held prisoner?” Eykit asked. That could be worrisome.
“No, I don’t know. Just look around and see if there is anything obviously suspicious.”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” Almë said.
“So, what’s your price?” she asked.
“$50 a day, depending upon how long this takes. Sounds pretty simple to me.”
$50 seemed a bit steep to Ruby. “Make it $20.”
“Thirty.”
“No.”
Almë was a bit surprised. “Maybe I should just do it for free!” He wasn’t serious, of course.
“No, we’ll keep it at twenty.” The sarcasm had gone way over her head. “Take it or leave it. If you find something, I promise I have more things for you to do. And maybe I can help you get that Manor. No guarantees. After all, I’m not known here. But I might have some connections.”
Almë was already going, walking across the street, weaving through the people going about their business. He was going to be pretending he was interested in joining the mage guild, but wanted a tour first. He’d already been to the Sentinel Group, and they had given him one. Perhaps he would tell them he was done with Plant magics, and wanted to do something different.
Almë entered the building. It was a small lobby office, with a guy behind a desk. He appeared bored, and his feet were on his desk. At least he was comfortable, Almë supposed.
There were two doors, one on either side of the room on the back wall.
The man started when Almë walked in, hurriedly putting his shoes back on the floor where they belonged. “Oh. Hello! What can I do for you?” According to the nameplate on the desk, his name was Mick.
“I am Almë, a plant mage. But I’m done being a plant mage. The hours are long and filled with a lot of casting. And I’d like something new. First I went to the Sentinel Group, but their main jobs are as bodyguards and security. I was in the military long enough to know that I don’t want to do the same shit, just with a different employer. So, I’d like to join your guild and take a job here.”
“Really?”
“Well, yeah. Really.”
“What do you know already?”
“Not much, to be honest.”
“Ahh. So we would need to train you first before you could start generating any revenue.”
“But I’m really smart and a quick learner.”
Mick looked him up and down. “So, you want to join this particular mage guild, huh? Right. Let me go get somebody.”
He tapped a bell on his desk, causing it to ring loudly in the small room. Then he put his feet back up on his desk, leaning back in his chair.
There were a couple of chairs against the front wall, obviously seating for customers if they had to wait. Almë sat in the one closest to Mick’s desk. He didn’t have to wait long.
The door on the left opened, and a man walked out. “Hey, Mick! What’s up?” He saw Almë. “Who are you?”
Almë introduced himself to the newcomer, and told him the same story he had told to Mick about why he was there.
Mick spoke up. “Yah, he seems to want to join us for some reason. Don’t really know why.”
“Alright, well, um, I’m Godric. Nice to meet you Almë.”
“Nice to meet you too, Godric.”
“Come with me. I’ll take you back to the testing chambers and we can see what you can do.” He led him back into the building, where he put him in a conference room.
He sat across from Almë at the table. “So, you’re a mage. What can you do? What spells do you know? What is your past?” He pulled out a tablet and a pencil, prepared to take notes.
“I can rain lots of nuts.”
Godric dutifully wrote that down on his tablet. “You can rain a lot of nuts. Got it.”
Almë told him about his other spells, running through his list of known spells, including the few Earth spells and Body Control spells that he knew. He also mentioned that he had just learned the spell of Haste.
Godric summed it up. “So, you know Plant spells, a couple Earth spells, some Body Control spells, and Haste. Anything else?”
Almë shook his head.
“And you want to join us to do what, exactly? We are primarily Communication and Empathy, and Knowledge spells. Is that something you are actually interested in?”
“Yeah.”
“You want to sit there and send messages for people. Find people’s lost items?”
“Obviously.”
“Okay.”
“I also was a bit of a detective in my hometown.”
“Really? Tell me about that.”
“I had a private investigation company, just two of us. Myself, and a friend of mine.”
Godric sensed some untruths in there. He didn’t seem very convinced about Almë’s detective work. “I see,” he said, noncommittally.
“To be honest, it took us a long time to find stuff, but we’re Elves, so it didn’t matter.”
“An investigation firm, huh? What did you really do in this Elf town of yours?”
“I planted lots of plants, and I grew buildings.”
“Good. That seems more along the lines of your skill set.”
“Yeah, but I’m really tired of that shit. That’s why I left my town, I’m done watching grass grow. It’s boring.”
“Alright. You want to join us?”
“Yes, but I want to get to know you a bit before I sign anything.”
“Fair enough. I can at least show you around.”
Godric gave him the tour. The first floor was comprised of meeting rooms, personal offices, and the lobby. The meeting rooms were all of a type, three meters on a side, with an oblong table and six chairs around it. This was where mages would meet with clients, and do whatever the client paid for.
They went up the stairs to the second floor. There were a couple of appointed office spaces, with couches and desks. Almë could see people sitting in the chairs and laying on the couches, apparently concentrating on something. Godric mentioned that the second floor was primarily where the communications and object seeking happened.
He pointed out a few mages, and told Almë their names: “That’s Alan, and over there is Violet, and that guy is Feka’ini”. Godric didn’t bother giving him their last names. Almë could see that they were deep in thought, concentrating on something.
Godric pointed out a few more people—mages, as it turned out. “That one,” he said, indicating a woman in a blue dress and studying her for a few seconds, “is sending a message.” He indicated another one, “that one is, uh, oh! That one is looking for a lost item. Apparently someone has lost somebody, and he is looking for a missing person.” He pointed out a third one, “That one is receiving a communication from one of our other offices in another city. Don’t know which one.”
“How many hours do they do this per day?” asked Almë.
“Anywhere between eight and ten. Depending upon what needs to be done. The ones that are more specialized into finding lost items and people…that is a full investigation and that’s an ongoing thing. Hours can get quite long on those, especially if the case is time limited, like a kidnapping. It wouldn’t do to find a missing person only after they died.”
Almë was finding it hard to seem interested. His gardener job was way more interesting than sitting in a room repeating what someone else said and writing it down, or doing whatever those investigators were doing with the missing persons. Almë really didn’t want to sit in a chair all day.
Eykit, at the cafe across the street with everyone else, paced. Every now and then he’d look at the building across the street. “This was a terrible idea sending Almë in there,” he muttered, “for something that takes an attention span of more than two minutes!”
“Maybe he’ll find something interesting,” Ruby commented.
“We can only hope!” He gave her a look that said, “I’m sorry for whatever Almë did in there.”
While they waited for Almë, everyone ate, even Ruby (again). Eykit was fascinated at how much the Hobbit could eat. It was like magic, how much food disappeared down her gullet. He even bought her a dish of roasted root vegetables, just to watch her eat it. He had originally offered to get her a meat dish, but she declined, saying that she preferred vegetables.
He’d grown up with Hobbits, and he knew they ate a lot, but Ruby was something else. Of course, the Hobbits he grew up with had also been living on the street, and were, in general, poor. So they didn’t have much more access to food than he did, so they tended to be slimmer and, while they tried to stick to their increased meal frequency, also tended to eat less at each meal.
Ruby had no limitations like that. She was obviously wealthy enough to have never felt starvation lurking around the next corner. So food had never been scarce for her.
Eykit was also trying to figure out a way to set up a betting pool on her eating capacity. “Gods! Do you ever get full?”
“No,” Ruby replied.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He froze, his eyes wide, then looked over his shoulder. It was a City Guardsman. He had been so focused on the entertainment of watching Ruby eat and eat that he hadn’t been alert enough to notice the guardsmen walking up.
“Eykit!” the City Guardsman said. “It’s been a long time!”
Eykit knew him. It was Brannoc. They had a history. Brannoc had been trying to arrest Eykit for a while, but had never managed to do it. He was, Eykit had to admit, one of the better ones. He didn’t seem to abuse the privilege of power he had in the Guard, and he seemed honest enough. But that didn’t mean that Eykit had any intention of getting caught by him if he could help it.
“Not long enough,” Eykit replied.
“You’re coming with us!” Brannoc commanded. He was accompanied by his partner, a woman named Jerri. Both were Human, and were wearing the the quartered blue and cream gambeson uniforms of the City Guard, although Brannoc had a mail shirt over it. His partner wore blue and cream linothorax over hers. It was stiffer, not as supple, but much lighter than mail and provided good protection. Both were armed with spears and sidearms.
Brannoc pulled Eykit out of the chair. “Come on, scamp.” He reached for his shackles.
“What’s this about? I’ve been a good boy!”
Brannoc chuckled and said, “Nah, no, you haven’t, Eykit. You’re not called ‘Eykit the Eel’ for nothing. You’re coming with us.”
Eykit’s eyes darted to Brannoc’s partner. She smirked at him. The guardsman was pulling the Goblin from the table, propelling him by his hand on his shoulder.
“What? What’s going on here? I’ve got witnesses!”
“What is going on here?” Ruby asked.
“Oh, Eykit’s a well-known criminal,” the male guardsman said. “So we are taking him in for questioning.”
“What did he do?”
“What hasn’t he done?” Jerri, the female guard said.
“What am I being arrested for?” Eykit asked frantically.
Brannoc looked down at his prisoner. “Theft, breaking and entering, assault, battery, trespass…”
“What? Nothing recently!”
“Who said anything about recently? We’ve been wanting you for a looong time! You are coming with us.”
“I’ve been rehabilitated!”
They didn’t seem to want to listen. Ruby called for them to stop.
The two city guardsmen paused. “Who are you?” Brannoc asked.
“I’m Ruby Smallburrow.”
Brannoc looked at Jerri. She shrugged. He turned back to the Hobbit. “Never heard of you.” He continued moving down the street with Eykit.
Ruby whistled, and Norolind stood up, an immense wall of black fur and muscle. She considered casting some mind magics on the two guards. False Memory should do, she thought, and began the casting process. It would take several seconds.
Eykit was still unshackled, but had Brannoc’s hand on his shoulder, propelling him down the street. He ducked and twisted out of the guard’s grip. He bolted, weaving through the crowd on the street. Brannoc shouted behind him.
His eyes scanned the surroundings. He could see an open window up ahead; a partially built building surrounded by scaffolding, and on the other side of the street was a wagon being loaded by workers. The horses tied to its traces took up the majority of the space in the street, and people were having to walk around the obstruction. They were parked outside of a ceramics shop, so the crates being loaded into the back of the wagon were likely plates or mugs or vases or some such. The crates were all about the same size, so whatever was in them was probably sets of some common item.
The construction site was his best bet to get away from Brannoc, who, despite is momentary surprise at Eykit’s worming out of his grip, was following close behind.
The scaffold at the front face of the building was three stories high, make of bamboo poles and wooden planks, tied together with lashings. The building was in the framing stage; the cladding hadn’t yet been put on. The walls were mostly air, with gaps large enough for him to jump through between the studs. The foundation was about a meter high, forming the lower part of the wall on the first floor.
“Come back here, you scamp!” Brannoc shouted as he ran after the fleeing Goblin.
Eykit approached the scaffold at a run. He was wishing he hadn’t worn his mail shirt, which was really slowing him down. He looked for something low that he could scramble under, using the Human’s size against him. There wasn’t really anything low; but there was the wooden members built onto the stone foundation that he could leap through.
He jumped up, diving through the gap between the timbers, and came down onto the debris-strewn wood flooring. He rolled over some timber offcuts, wincing as he did so. Those will leave bruises, he thought.
Brannoc swore as he leaped up onto the ledge formed by the foundation stone, and squirmed through the timbers. His sidearm got hung up on the board, and he had to adjust it before he could make it through the gap. He fell through, landing and sliding down a small pile of bricks with an “Ooof!” He had already tossed his spear to his companion, Jerri, who followed as best she could. She didn’t move nearly as fast as he could, though.
Brannoc prided himself on his speed. He was fast. Certainly faster than the little punk he was chasing.
Eykit glanced back at his pursuer, getting a read on how far back he was. Brannoc could run faster than he could. It was only a quick glance, and the Goblin took off running again.
Brannoc was getting up.
Eykit ran through the construction site. Up ahead he saw a group of people—a family. There was also a big pile of crates on the far side of the construction zone. It was piled up high enough for Eykit to reach the second floor.
He went for the pile of crates, scrambling up the stacked crates. They didn’t move much when he clambered over him; a part of his brain registered that they were likely filled with bricks or mortar of some other heavy material.
He stood on the top crate, grabbed the floor beam above his head, and chinned up to the second floor. He got to his feet, and ran.
Climbing up those boxes had slowed Eykit a bit; Brannoc was closing the distance. Damn, that guy can run! Eykit thought worriedly.
Eykit was beginning to breathe heavily. Brannoc started climbing the crates, but Eykit didn’t stick around to watch.
He could see a pile of hay bales stacked in the alley next to the construction site, possibly used for fodder or to keep the mud of the site under control. It might make a softer place to land if he were to jump down from the second floor. He could also see a planter box next to the building nearby that he could use for cover. On the other side of the street was a group of barrels, laid on their sides in racks.
Eykit leapt to the hay bales, and he rolled down the steep stepped slope of packed hay, but staggered as he got up, and Brannoc was approaching quickly.
Eykit tried to put on more speed, cursing his stubby little legs. Up ahead was another scaffold in front of a building, extending all the way to the top of the roof. This building wasn’t under construction though; it was likely cleaning or repair. He could see workers on several levels doing complicated things with tools. There was also a doorway he could duck into, if the door was unlocked.
Eykit made for the scaffold, leaping up and grabbing the rungs of the ladder, scrambling up the rest of the way to the second level of the scaffold.
Brannoc slammed into the ladder, grabbing it and starting to climb after Eykit. “I’m going to get you, Eel! You slippery bastard! I’ll see you in a cell!”
Eykit looked for a way into the building. He saw four to choose from on the second floor. He slipped into the third one, and heard Brannoc hit the boards of the scaffold level. Eykit was in a room, a door at the far end, leading to a hallway. He ran through the room, through the door, turned left. It went about ten meters, doors on either side, with a stairway at the end going down.
He could hear a loud noise behind him; Brannoc had apparently taken a different window, but it didn’t really matter. The rooms all opened up on the same hallway.
Eykit got to the end, and the stairway. Now he could see the flight going up as well as down. He went up. As he did, he saw Brannoc pile through a doorway and slam into the wall.
“Ah hah!” he said. “I see you! Stop right there!” He charged down the hallway after Eykit.
Eykit didn’t listen, and ran up the stairs. He heard a “Whah!” followed by a loud crashing noise. Brannoc had apparently slipped on something, or lost his footing in some other way, and had fallen to the hardwood floor.
The Goblin bolted the rest of the way upstairs. He ran down the third floor hallway, looking for an unlocked door and an open window. He wanted out of the building, preferably before Brannoc could recover.
On his third try, he found a room and window he could use to get back out to the scaffolding.
He could hear grumbling and thumping up the stairs. Then he was on the scaffold, and went down, through the face of the scaffold, hanging from the horizontal bamboo pole that helped support the scaffold boards. He swung his legs out to get some momentum, then as they swung in again, he dropped to the second level of the scaffold.
He looked for the other guard. He could see her a few buildings down, scanning the crowd, looking for him. She hadn’t seen him yet. He ran to the end away from her, grabbing at the side of the ladder with one hand and swinging around, pivoting around the ladder to face it. With both feet on the outsides of the ladder, he slid down quickly. He wanted to lose himself in the crowd before he was spotted by either of the two city guardsmen.
When he hit the ground, he could hear Brannoc hit the top level of the scaffold above him. He could see a drunk man passed out and snoring on the street ahead of him. He leapt over him. There were some tall hedges just past the drunkard, and he could also see an open window in the next building that he could jump into.
The window it was. Eykit found himself sliding off of a table with folded shirts on it; he had just jumped into a clothing and tailoring shop. He got up, rumpled clothes all around his feet, and scanned the room. Some more tables with various items of clothing on them, and a couple of racks where clothes hung. On one side of the one-room shop were three small booths for trying on clothes.
He picked up one of the wads of cloth at his feet. “I’d like to try this on,” he said. The shopkeeper just stared at him, then pointed to one of the changing rooms.
“Thanks!” He made his way to it and entered. There was a bench to sit on, and a hook on the wall. A large, polished steel mirror hung on one wall. Years of use by patrons had left it a bit scratched and not nearly as reflective as a glass and silver mirror would have been, but it was a lot cheaper.
He pulled out his darkness strip, then slid under the bench, arranging the strip in front of him as cover.
He waited. After a few minutes, he heard voices. It sounded like Brannoc. “Sir, I am looking for a Goblin. Have you seen one in the last few minutes?”
“No, haven’t seen any Goblins come in for hours.”
A few seconds later, Brannoc said, “Well, if you do see a young male Goblin, please let the Guard know. He’s wanted for questioning.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eykit could hear the guards leave. He peeked out of the changing room. He didn’t see the guards. But he did see the proprietor with a smirk on his face.
He emerged. “I think I would like to purchase something,” he told the man. Eykit still held the clothing he had grabbed; he hadn’t even looked at it until now. It was a Human-sized tunic, cut for a woman’s body. If Eykit wore it, it would look like a big, baggy dress.
“This didn’t actually work for me. You have anything else, like something with a hood?”
“I’ve got just the thing.” He smiled, and went to a different table than the one Eykit had messed up, and pulled a piece of clothing off of it. He flicked his wrists, and it unfolded, hanging in front of him.
It was a deep brown tunic, about thigh length on Eykit, with an integral hood.
“Excellent!” Eykit said. “How much?”
“15 marks.”
“I’ll take it! The service you have provided has been exemplary.”
The Human nodded.
The Goblin gave him 20 marks. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.” He put on his new tunic, flipping up the hood. His mail shirt was now covered, as was his head. He’d be hot, and sweating, but it was better than being recognized.
He peeked his head out of the shop, looking to see where the guards were. Farther down the street he could see them, running from store to store, questioning the shopkeepers and looking for the escaped Goblin rogue. Eykit could see that Brannoc was indeed a fast runner, and he kept leaving his female companion in the dust as she struggled to keep up with him.
He turned back towards his friends.
“What was all that about?” Taid asked.
“I’ll meet you all back at the inn. I’m uh, I’m out.”
“Wait,” Taid said. “Perhaps we can go back to Ruby’s inn instead and discuss our plan.”
“You mean where she is staying? Alright, we can do that.”
Ruby spoke up. “It makes more sense than you going all the way back to your territory.”
“I need to maintain a low profile, because clearly I am being sought.”
In the meantime, while waiting for Almë to do his thing, he found an out-of-the-way table and sat there, paying close attention to the passersby on the street. He didn’t want to be surprised again.
Godric hadn’t really noticed Almë’s lack of interest. He went on with the tour, taking Almë upstairs to the third floor, and through a door that had, written on a plaque, “Divinations”. “Then there are the divinations. That will depend upon the style of divination is used.” They were in a hallway, with doors on either side.
He opened a door. “This room is for the diviners who use Tarot cards.” It was a largish room, with many tables, each with a single chair. One end of the room had a glass-fronted case, filled with decks of cards.
The next room was the one for diviners who utilize dreams. It had several beds, with drapes around them for a modicum of privacy. There were no people currently in any of the beds. Godric chuckled. “This is more my speed. Sleeping and solving problems.”
He took Almë to the next room. This one had braziers, and tubs of water, and, in once corner, a small furnace. Hot air blew out into the hallway, and someone was in there staring at the flames in a brazier. “This room is where the fire-gazers and lecanomancers do their work.”
“Lecanomancers? What’s that?” Almë hadn’t heard the term before.
“Dropping things into water. In this room, molten metal. Although the term also refers to tea leaf reading.”
Almë nodded.
“There are other rooms that have space and equipment for rune-casting, tossing sticks or bones, and we even have a crystal ball.” The whole top floor was the divination department.
There had been a few rooms on the lower floors that had clients in them; Godric had just closed the door immediately when he saw them and didn’t talk about them. Client services were confidential.
“So,” Godric asked, “still interested?” He suspected that the Elf wasn’t, but one never really knew.
Almë sighed. “Some of it sounds really good, but let me think about it.”
“Yeah, I thought so. You started to glaze over on some of this stuff. It’s fine. If you weren’t fully invested, we wouldn’t want to spend the money training you up anyway.”
He led Almë back downstairs to the lobby. “Thank you for dropping by. Keep us in mind if you are interested in doing this kind of thing, because we could always use people to find lost items.”
“And sleep.”
“Well, yeah, if you’re the type that likes to dream a lot.”
Almë left the lobby, emerging back into the midday sunlight. He moved across the street and down to the cafe where his friends waited. He was smiling.
“Yeah, I found your guy!” A pause. “Not so much, sorry. There was nobody really there, just a few people like Mick, Godric, Alan, Violet, and Feka’ini. There were others, but they were with clients, and I wasn’t able to get any info about them.” He went on to explain the layout of the offices and floors.
“Well,” Eykit said, “Almë’s still alive, so that’s good. And not under arrest.”
“So were there any guild officers around?” Ruby asked.
“Maybe, behind closed doors. Godric didn’t show me every room. There was an entire hallway that I wasn’t shown. It was on the first floor. It’s likely that those might be the offices of the guild leaders.”
Almë put his hand out, palm up. “Twenty marks, please.”
Ruby gave him his payment. It had taken Almë about three quarters of an hour to reconnoiter the guild office of Artem, Tennant, and Tricola.
“So, that’s taken care of,” Almë said. “Want to join us? Save some babies, or go after Kallia?”
“No, no,” Ruby replied. “I don’t have time for that right now. I need to check this town and especially this building for something I am looking for.”
“What do you suspect about this building?” Almë asked.
“I’m looking for someone. A lost friend.”
“A lost friend? Well, there were people in there trying to find missing people.”
“No, I think he would be inside there. No need for them to try and trace him.”
Almë indicated Eykit. “Should we send him in, at night?”
“Yeah, we should wait until the building is closed for business.”
Eykit had had enough. He stood, came over to them, and said, “Let’s go to Ruby’s place.”
The inn Ruby was staying in wasn’t too far away, only about three short blocks. The Royal Eagle Inn was much nicer than the Inn on Drefeg’s Street. Or at least Ruby’s room was. Her room had its own bathing room, complete with a large tub. Not to mention, she had it to herself. She wasn’t sleeping with any other patrons. Bad for networking, but good for sleeping. Which was why, occasionally, she slept in a common room. Sometimes it was useful to chat up your bedmate.
The inn was a large structure, four stories of stone masonry, with a shallowly sloped tile roof. It must have had at least twenty rooms, ranging from common rooms on the lower two floors to private rooms and suites on the upper floors. One half of the bottom floor was an integral tavern, the other half was split between a large common room and lobby, and the innkeeper’s quarters. It was large enough to have a staff of over a dozen people. Its prices must have been somewhere upwards of twenty marks a night just for a space in a common bed shared with two others.
Ruby’s room cost her 120 marks a night. But it included a Human sized breakfast. Ruby had to pay extra for Hobbit portions.
She hadn’t bothered with a suite. Just a room, with the attached bath. Norrie lay on his side on a throw rug at the base of the soft bed. It was tall enough that even Humans required a step stool to get into it.
There was also a table and chair in the room. Taid sat in the chair; Eykit sat crosslegged on the floor, as did Elitheris. Almë leaned against the doorframe to the bathing room. Ruby perched herself on her bed, sitting up straight. The only person taller than her was the skinny, stretched-looking Elf. That boy needs to be fattened up, she mused. Force feeding him beans, potatoes, and bread and butter should do it.
They discussed their plan for moving forward.
“I say we wait for night,” Almë said. “Then send Eykit in. But he needs more details about who he should be looking for.” He turned to Ruby. “He’ll need a description of the person. He can’t just abduct random people out of that place.”
“Is there usually anyone in these guild buildings at night?” Eykit asked. He wasn’t fully on board with the whole abduction thing. No one had said anything about abducting people.
“Some of the investigators might, if they are busy on a case,” Almë answered, remembering what Godric had said about working hours.
Ruby wasn’t sure about her new allies. She felt she could trust Taid to do the right thing, but not to keep a secret. She thought that Elitheris could be trusted, after all, she was already harboring secrets, and likely had been for more years than Ruby had been alive. She wasn’t certain about Almë. And Eykit seemed really nice, and she wanted to trust him. It was almost an urge, actually. But the little voice in the back of her mind was saying “No.” She didn’t want him near anything of hers that was valuable. He had sticky fingers.
She decided to tell them some of the things she knew about her quarry. Ruby said, “I’m looking for a guy. He is the guildmaster of the mage guild Almë went into today. And he’s owes me money, and he’s likely done some other bad things, and I want to bring him back to Adayn.”
“What’s he look like? What’s his name?” Almë asked.
“His name is Zorion Clemens. I don’t know exactly what he looks like. I know he is Human, though, and is tall and has blonde hair. Middle aged.”
“How long have you been looking for this guy?” Taid asked.
“And did you want us to find him, or kill him?” Almë asked Ruby, not remembering that she had just said that she wanted to bring him back to Adayn. Although, in Almë’s defense, she didn’t specify alive or dead….
“How sure are we that he is here?” Eykit asked. “She’s been looking all over the Empire!” He turned to the Hobbit. “How sure are you?”
“I’m not sure,” Ruby answered, “that’s why I had Almë go in and observe it, but he didn’t find anything. But maybe he’s there.”
“Fifty-fifty shot,” Eykit muttered. “At best.”
“Maybe yes, maybe I have to go to another city to look for him. But it’s a good chance he’s in there. But I’m not sure.”
“Okay. Alright, so: blonde, middle aged, tall, but otherwise looks like any other Human.” He sighed. “All Humans look alike. They are all just crotches to me.”
Taid laughed. “Crotches with people attached to them!”
“Hey, as long as I can hit them in the wee-wee, it’s all good. I hate to say it, but odds are small that if I get into a fight with this guy he’ll come out of it with both balls intact.”
“No, you just have to find him. If you find someone like him, then I will talk to him. Just let me know.”
“Okay.” Eykit didn’t really want to take on a mage guildmaster anyway. He didn’t know what kinds of spells the guy had, but it’s possible he could be communicated to death for all he knew.
“Do you want me to make contact with this guy?”
“Not at all. Don’t touch him, don’t talk to him.”
“Just identify him and get the hell out,” Elitheris, quiet until now, stated.
“Just let me know where he is, and what he is doing,” Ruby said reassuringly.
Eykit considered. He was thinking about courier gear, and trying to remember what couriers wore. They were everywhere, and part of the background that he rarely paid attention to. But he knew they usually had satchels, and a badge of some kind. He’d might be able to get them from his own guild. And if they didn’t already have it, they would likely be able to get some.
“If all I have to do is ascertain whether or not he’s there,” Eykit said, “I should be able to do that without a lot of sneaking. I can just say that I have a message for Zorion Clemens.”
Ruby shook her head. “No, he’s a pretty secretive guy, for a guildmaster. Private. His underlings usually run interference for him, always saying that he’s busy, or at a different guild hall. Part of that might be because he owes me a lot of money, and is avoiding letting people know where he is.”
Zorion Clemens, being a guildmaster of one of the larger mage guilds, was rich. He played by a different set of rules than they did. So he was able to basically ignore anyone of lesser status. Rich thieves could get away with almost anything. Poor thieves went to jail, got sent to work camps, or were executed.
“He is a guild leader, so he has many political friends,” Ruby said. “Friends that will cover for him, if needs be. They will protect him.”
She paused, thinking. “When you go in there, watch out for trap doors, hidden doors, and stuff like that.”
“My question is, once I go in there, because they have knowledge in divination, will they have alarms? Won’t they know I’m coming? Like, ‘there is someone here, that doesn’t belong!’”
It was possible, but divination really only works if the diviner knows what the question is. If they haven’t asked if they are going to be infiltrated, they likely wouldn’t have foreseen it happening. Plus, divinations could be rather ambiguous.
But, if they found out that someone was trespassing, they had the assets with with to discover who it was, where they currently were, and when the best time to take them out would be. Seeker and Trace were two very common Knowledge spells. The first found things. The second kept track of it, once it was found.
Eykit knew of both of these spells. It was why he had a little box called an ‘impression blocker’. Things placed in the box couldn’t be found by a Seeker spell; for all intents and purposes, they didn’t exist as long as they were hidden within the container. But Eykit himself couldn’t fit in one. So he would have to be careful.
He also knew that Seeker was a spell usable on a subject only once an eightday. Trace could really only be used for things that you knew the location of, after which the item could be tracked by following a magical “pull”. Much like how a compass follows the North Pole.
There was no use dawdling and wasting time. Eykit headed back to Artem, Tennant, and Tricola’s guild headquarters. He had waited until the 17th bell, an hour before midnight. He stood in the shadows of the building next door.
The windows on the ground floor were all barred. He wouldn’t be getting in that way. The upper windows were likely locked, but they weren’t barred. He could see lights in some of them. It was likely the investigators working on those cases Almë mentioned, or perhaps late night romantic message sendings.
He was going to have to climb.
Ruby and Norolind parked themselves at the cafe, even though it was closed, Ruby in a chair, and Norrie at her feet.
Almë made his way up onto the rooftop of the cafe, for a better vantage point. He laid down on the sloped, tiled roof, only his head above the ridge of the roofline. Even Almë knew when not to be obvious.
Elitheris and Taid sat at the table with Ruby, Mr. Wiggles lying next to the larger mastiff, his nose on his paws.
There was traffic on the street. It was near midnight, which meant that almost all of the people in the street were Orcs or Goblins, working the night shifts. The Port Karn economy worked twenty four hours a day. While there were people in the street going about their business, it was only about 30% as crowded as it was during the day. This lessening of the crowds allowed carts and wagons to be used much more easily. Every once in a while, a wagon, drawn by two or four horses, would clatter past.
By unspoken agreement, the Orcs and Goblins on the street spoke in hushed voices, and refrained from shouting. Ruby hadn’t really noticed, but now that she thought about it, even during the day, the streets weren’t as noisy as those in Adayn. Now she understood why. The day-walkers kept their voices down, too, in deference to the day-sleepers. After all, no one wanted bad tempered Orcs to be cranky from lack of sleep!
They could see a small shape climb up to the second floor, hanging on to the windowsill. Eykit pulled himself up a bit, bracing his feet on the top trim of a first floor window. He could just reach the locking mechanism of the window. All he had to do now was jimmy the lock.
The lock wasn’t terribly complicated, and although Eykit had a bit of trouble trying to get it open, he succeeded in levering the locking mechanism out of its seat, freeing the operating panel of the window. He slowly slid the window up, trying to keep the noise he was making to a minimum. He noticed that the window needed waxing as it bound up in places as it moved jerkily up.
The room was one of the investigation offices that Almë had described. There was a table in the middle of the room, and a couple of desks with chairs against the walls. A series of filing cabinets were set against another wall.
It was dark, and empty, but Eykit could see well enough using the moonlight reflecting off of the brick wall of the adjacent building. A Human would have trouble navigating in the dark room, but Goblins were nocturnal by nature. Not quite to the same level as Orcs, but they did quite well at night, and had little trouble getting around in dim light.
He crept to the door, cracked it open, and peered into the unlit hallway. There were doors flanking both sides of the corridor; all were dark except for the one that was slightly ajar. Light shone from beyond it. Eykit’s ears picked up soft, pencil on paper scritching noises.
At the end of the hallway was a staircase, a flight going up, and one going down. It was the first floor that Almë said had the offices that he hadn’t been shown. He crept down the hallway towards the staircase. On the way, he peeked in through the slightly open door into the lit room.
There was a woman there, seated at a desk, mostly writing. She would often consult something on the table next to her, then stare off into the distance, mumbling and contorting her fingers into various shapes.
To Eykit, it looked more boring than accounting. He hated accounting. It was just rows and rows of numbers, with an overabundant annoyance of necessary accuracy.
He moved down the stairs, stepping on the edges of the stairs nearest the wall to minimize any squeaking. According to Almë’s description, there were four offices that hadn’t been acknowledged, and they seemed to be the ones at the far end of the hall.
Like the hallway upstairs, this one was unlit. However, there was an open door, and light shone from that room. Eykit, before climbing up and entering through the second story window, had walked around the building, casing the joint to get a sense of the layout. The open door was the entrance to the lobby.
He could hear someone rustling around at the front desk. He made it to the open doorway without being heard. Glancing inside, he could see a Human sitting at the desk, doing some kind of paperwork that was causing him some frustration, because he was grumbling to himself about it.
The guy was distracted, so Eykit didn’t have any problem getting past the open doorway without being discovered. Now that he was closer to the four offices and past the light being shed by the lobby, he could see that two of them, the ones at the end of the hall, had lights lit, the soft glow shining from under the doors.
From the rooftop, Almë could see lantern-bearing city guardsmen, making the rounds, and keeping the peace; one and Orc, the other a Goblin.
They didn’t seem at all aware that a particular building had a sneak thief in it. As they passed the cafe, they nodded to the people seated there, wary of the dogs. Almë suspected that they didn’t even see Mr. Wiggles laying next to Norolind. They passed without incident. He was sure that if Eykit had been there, they might have caused some trouble if they had recognized him.
The miscreant in question moved up to the first door on the right in the hallway. It was unlit, but he tested the doorknob anyway. It was locked. So was the one across from it.
He moved to the two doors with lit rooms. Both of those were locked as well, which he found out after very carefully and quietly trying to open them. He went back to one of the darkened rooms, and picked the lock. He quietly opened the door and slid inside, closing the door behind him and locking it.
It was a room about five by three meters in size. There were bookshelves along one solid wall, filled with books. A large desk with a comfortable looking chair was placed in one corner, set at an angle so that anyone in the chair would be able to see the whole room. There were a couple of chairs in front of the desk, likely for visitors. Against a wall was a side table, with crystal decanters filled with what Eykit assumed were some alcoholic drinks, mostly of the amber to brown colored variety.
He poured himself a drink and tossed it down in a single gulp. It was some high quality stuff; a brandy of some kind.
It was a nicer office than what Eykit’s guildmaster, Toren Ghent, had. This was an executive-level office. Even in the dim light filtering through the barred window, Eykit could see that the furniture was beautifully styled, and matching. Even the bookcase had decorative scrollwork along the shelf edges. Mages made good livings, and the high mucky mucks in the guilds made even better ones.
There was an annoying lack of pocket-sized decorative art. The best Eykit could do was take one of the cut crystal glasses from the side table. It would fetch at least thirty marks, by his estimation. Besides, he’d drunk out of it. It would have been rude to leave a dirty glass on the table….
There was a nameplate on the desk. It read “Zorion Clemens”. Otherwise, the desk was empty save for a leather blotter and a Dwarfclock. Eykit knew that if Zorion was here, this is the desk he’d use. He eyed that Dwarfclock. It was a wooden box about 20cm tall, 20cm wide, and 10cm deep. The face marked out the six segments, or “sixths”, and each sixth had four hour markings. Sixty marks surrounded the clock face in a circle, denoting the minutes of each hour. It was nearing the 18th bell.
The bell towers didn’t ring the bell 18 times. Midnight happened in the middle of the fifth “sixth”. So it ran the last full sixth first, four quick bongs, followed by two slower ones, since midnight happened after the second hour of the fifth sixth.
He’d seen these kinds of timekeeping devices a few times in shops, but this was the first time he’d been able to examine one up close. They were rare, imported from the Dwarven Undercities, and very expensive. This one had minimal decorations; unlike Elven goods, which were universally elaborately decorated, Dwarven designs were much more austere. Clean lines and geometric precision were more their style. And based upon the two chimes, it appeared as if the sixths were rung with one chime, and the hours with the other.
Eykit contemplated stealing it. He even lifted it, testing its weight. Wasn’t terribly heavy, but it was heavier than it looked, being filled with metal gearing and counterweights and whatever else the Dwarves thought necessary inside. He put it back. Yes, it was worth a lot, but it was also pretty bulky. Besides, in a few minutes, it would start bingbonging and making a racket. He didn’t need that.
The window opened out onto the street at the front of the building. Eykit could see his companions across the street at the darkened cafe, sitting at one of their outdoor tables. He contemplated going out the window, but the window was barred.
He ran his finger along the top of the desk. Smooth, varnished wood, with a slight layer of dust.
So it was back out the way he came. He opened the door quietly, checking the hallway to ensure it was empty. He closed the door, locked it using his lock picks, then quietly moved down the hallway towards the stairs. As he made his way down the hallway, he could hear, faintly, four quick high pitched dings, followed by a pair of lower pitched ones. The clock had rung the 18th bell.
He passed the lobby, and went up the stairs. So far, no one had noticed he was there. He went down the hallway to the room he came in from. Then he climbed down from the window. He wanted out before any of the mages discovered him.
He took a roundabout route back to the cafe across the street. No need to be visible crossing the street from the mage guild building.
“Found his fancy schmancy office. He wasn’t there. He’s an executive, and probably only works a few hours a day.”
“But at least you know he’s there, now,” Taid said.
“This is where he works, obviously,” Eykit said.
“He has offices in many, if not all, of his other guild buildings in other towns,” Ruby said. “I need to find him. In person. Not his office.”
“You’re going to have to do that during daylight, I think.”
“Yeah, maybe. In daylight he will be hiding. He is not the kind of person that will just sit in his office.”
“What is he hiding from?”
“From me.”
“Why is he hiding from you?” This guy’s a guildmaster, Eykit thought. Who is this Ruby person, then? What power does she have over him? Is she some rival guildmaster? He wasn’t sure he liked where this train of thought was going.
“Because he stole money.”
“How much money?”
“A lot.”
“How much is ‘a lot’?”
“Millions of marks. He betrayed a lot of rich people. Not just me.”
“Really?”
Ruby nodded. “Really.”
Taid asked, “What’s the percentage on this gig?”
“I will not get the money back from him. I will get vengeance.”
Almë climbed down off of the roof, being careful not to fall. He wasn’t as experienced on rooftops as Eykit, although his Elven sense of balance was helpful.
“The guy’s window is the second from the left, there.” Eykit indicated the window with a nod of his head. No need to be so obvious as to point at it. “I figure that someone can just walk by during the day and see if anyone is in there.”
No one was in the office in the morning. There was no change by midday. She had gone by the window in the afternoon as well. No one was in it then, either. It didn’t look like Zorion had come in to work at all that day. There was a good chance that he wasn’t in town at the moment.
Almë decided to go to the Port Karn Agricultural Council campus, while the others watched the guild house window. It wasn’t far; only a few blocks.
The Port Karn Agricultural Council, usually called “peacock” in common parlance, because of the initials PKAC, owned what amounted to an entire block of buildings, with a common area between them.
It took Almë a while to find which of the many buildings were the administration offices. It was actually the largest of the buildings, and was where most of the agricultural planning and execution were located. It was also the offices of the Farmers’ Union.
Walking into yet another lobby, Almë knew his shpiel by this time. He started to introduced himself, but was stopped by the young clerk at the desk.
“Ah,” he said, “just a minute, Almë, let me get somebody.” He knew who Almë was, even before he’d gotten a chance to tell him who he was. That could be worrisome, Almë thought.
Almë only had to wait for a few minutes before a Dwarf came out and greeted him with “Almë! Hi! We’d been hoping you’d drop by! I’m Skadrel.”
Almë had never seen him before. “Yeah, sure. Sure, I’ve dropped by.” He was confused.
“So! Why are you here?” Skadrel asked.
“How do you know me?”
The Dwarf looked taken aback. “You are a plant mage. Of course we know you.”
“Okay. That’s a good reason.”
“We’ve heard things.”
“Good things?”
“Mostly good. We could definitely use someone with your skills. We wouldn’t even have to train you. You already know what you’re doing.”
“Yes, and I already have something I want to work on. Friends of mine have gotten a long way in possibly possessing one of the manors in the area. It’s in bad shape, and needs a lot of work.”
“How far away is this place?”
“Not very far. It was Vesten Manor.”
“Ah, Vesten Manor. So, are you guys in control of Vesten Manor, then?”
“We don’t technically have possession yet, but we are in process. And I thought, you guys could help me get this place running and up to speed and back into production, because obviously it’s in really bad shape. The peach orchard hasn’t been cared for in years.”
“Well, okay, come with me.” Skadrel brought Almë back to his office. It was a cluttered mess, with various papers everywhere. Most were text, but there were several surveyors’ maps as well. On the wall was a map of the area around Avondale, with lots of colored pins in it.
He went to a cabinet, and started rifling through the folders, looking for something specific. He pulled out a folder.
“Vesten Manor,” he began. “Okay.” He flipped through the documents in the folder. “Peach orchard, you say?”
“Yep.”
“And a bunch of currently fallow fields.”
“Yep.”
The Dwarf looked straight at him, looking Almë in the eyes. “Are you aware that they are Essential?”
“Not yet, no.”
Skadrel gave him a look. He didn’t buy Almë’s answer; as a Plant mage, Almë would have been able to tell just by digging his hands into the ground. He filed the Elf’s evasiveness away for later.
PKAC had been around for over 600 years. Port Karn, as a city of the Empire, had been around for over 800. During all that time, the jungle had been cut back, the exposed lands turned into farmland, necessary to provide enough food for the large city.
The Port Karn Agricultural Council had been sending mages around casting Bless Plants, Plant Growth, and Wither spells, all in an effort to increase yields and reduce the chance of famine. And those all worked pretty much on a season to season basis. But, in addition to that, they had also been sending mages from field to field, making the top 30 cm or so Essential Earth. Enchanting the ground in that manner made that dirt three times as productive, and, what was even more important, permanent.
Well, mostly permanent. Over time, other dirt got tilled into it, and compost and fertilizer got mixed into it as well, but it tended to last on the order of years, rather than seasons. And all seven fallow fields were Essential. And by being fallow, were being wasted as time and dust and erosion diluted the magical properties of the fields. The triple yield of weeds seemed to enjoy them, though.
The primary goal of PKAC was to provide food for the city and prevent famine. And Vesten had been remiss for years by having his very productive fields grow only large numbers of weeds. Not only did this not provide any food for the local markets, it also made it more difficult for the neighboring fields. They had to fight some very competitive weeds that weren’t limited to only the fields next door.
These were the reasons PKAC had been sending letters to Herbert Vesten, trying to convince him to step up and stop wasting his lands. And why they let a neighbor harvest the peach orchard, and why they gave another neighbor special dispensation to let his goats use the fallow fields as pasture.
“We found it and Herbert had left,” Almë said, “and we would like to take this over and get it running again. But we need help. I can do a lot of stuff, but we also need a loan because all of the farmhands’ houses are dilapidated and need repairs.”
“Ah. A bit of deferred maintenance?” Skadrel found it interesting that ‘Herbert had left’, and decided he would look into that. He got the impression that Almë wasn’t telling him everything.
“Very deferred maintenance. Close to collapsing, I think. And so we need craftsmen to repair that stuff. I can’t do everything on my own.”
“What can you do?” the Dwarf asked.
Almë listed the spells he knew and used.
“I’d like a demonstration. Come with me.” He led Almë to the courtyard between the buildings of the campus. It had raised beds just about everywhere they could be shoehorned in. The one that Skadrel led him to was just dirt. “I think someone has planted some seeds in this one, but I’m not sure. See what you can do with it.”
Almë meditated, calming his mind, then visualized what he was going to do. Then he cast a spell of Plant Growth. Subliminal motes of green-tinged magenta light coalesced from the air and from within himself, flowing over and around the raised bed, then settled into the earth.
Pale green sprouts popped up out of the ground, many in even rows, but also other things scattered randomly about. They darkened and grew taller until they reached about ten cm high. The ones in nice rows looked like peas. The randomly scattered ones were a combination of weeds, with the occasional volunteer from previous plantings.
“That’s pretty good. Come over to this one over here.”
Before Almë joined Skadrel over by the other raised bed, he cast a spell of Blossom on the peas, which caused them to continue to grow, forming blossoms, then pea pods. They trailed on the ground all around the bed, not having any trellises set up yet to grow on.
Skadrel looked over at the peas, soon to be in danger of being trod upon. “That’s… good.” He whistled and called over someone who must have been a groundskeeper. “Yo! Marco! We’ve got some peas over here that we should probably harvest before they get trampled and stepped on.”
“Sure thing, boss!” Marco yelled back. “I’ll take care of it.”
He gestured for Almë to join him over by a bed that looked like it was just covered in weeds of various kinds. “Okay, take care of these weeds.”
Almë cast Wither Plants. The entire bed of weeds died off, turning brown and crispy. There was only one type of plant that hadn’t been affected: the oregano. Almë had figured that wasn’t a weed, so he had excluded it from the casting.
“Okay. Good. One more test.”
He went over to a bed of carrots. “Go ahead and Bless these. You have the spell of Blessing Plants, right?”
“Yes.”
“Show me what you’ve got.”
Almë cast the spell without difficulty, it was one he knew well. There was no visible change to the plants, but it was a spell that worked over the entire length of the season, so it would be at least a few days before any change became visible anyway. Even then, there would be no real way to determine whether the changes had been caused by magic, or just sunlight, earth, and water.
“You’ve got the main ones that we need. So, are you willing to join the guild?”
“What are the conditions?”
“You pay your dues, and work for us.”
“How much are the dues?”
“Well, the dues will be automatically taken out of your pay, but it’s 300 marks a month.”
“Okay, how much does the job pay, and does it involve me getting Almë Manor up to snuff? So yes, I would like my job to be getting that place running, and I would like you to support me on that.”
“We can definitely make sure that working on that property is your foremost duty. Won’t be your only duty, though.”
“Then can you also cross off the name on your file? Change ‘Vesten’ to “Almë Manor’?”
Skadrel cocked his head, stroking his beard. “I can do that when Baroness Walters says I can. She’s the one that has the property in liege to Count Sharpe. Technically, the Emperor owns the land, you’ll just be running it.”
“Oh, I’m not asking for it to change ownership, I just want it renamed.”
“I can’t do that until the Baroness says it’s okay. Until then, it stays Vesten Manor.”
Almë sighed. He played with the idea of sneaking back into Skadrel’s office and changing the name on the file himself. No one would know, right? It was only his name on the document, in his handwriting, with him the only person who wanted it done.
“But to answer your question, Almë, the job pays a net 1200 marks a month.”
“And can I get a loan to repair the farmhands’ shacks and houses?”
“No, not yet. Not until it’s yours. Then it’s a possibility. But I can’t guarantee something like that.”
“Then it will take longer, if I’m paying for it on my own.”
“We understand. Getting the land up and producing, getting the weeds out of it, are the priorities.”
“Any particular fields or crops I should start with?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” He handed Almë a list of preferred crops that they would like to see grown, based upon what all of the other farms were producing. He actually gave the Elf a two lists, one of the dry season, one for the wet season. They had obviously prepared for someone to come on Vesten Manor’s behalf.
The dry season were the five months Emerging, Latespring, Warmbreeze, Heatdaze, and Harvest. In order of preference, the crops requested were Wheat, Taro, Rye, Barley, Oats, Flax, Yams, Beans, Squash, and Hemp.
The wet season was marked by the months Leafturn, Colding, Darksun, Icewind, and Warmthope. For those months, the following crops were on the list: Taro, Spinach, Mint, Cabbage, Arugula, Celery, Watercress, Cauliflower, and Garden Pea. Taro was a perennial, which would mean devoting an entire field to that starchy crop, and not letting it go fallow.
Almë wondered where he could get seed stock. He could probably purchase it from PKAC. Or at least they would know where to get seed to plant.
“Hey,” Almë asked Skadrel, “Can you guys put in a good word for me to the Baroness?”
“I’ll see what we can do.” Skadrel smiled, then realized he had paperwork to do now to prepare Almë for the guild, and vice versa, and he groaned.
Elitheris had been collecting materials in preparation to building a new bow while she had been out hunting. Her current bow was good, and had served her well for the last few decades, but one with more power and a stronger draw would be better.
But she didn’t have a workshop, nor did she have any tools. When she had built her last bow, she had found a woodcrafter living outside of a town somewhere to the northwest of Port Karn. She had stayed in that area for a while, hunting and sharing the kills with him. In return, he let her use his shop and tools. She was there for months, carefully making and decorating her bow, tuning it to specific preferences, then making a bunch of arrows to go with it.
The woodcrafter had watched, intrigued, as Elitheris lit scented candles, drew flowing symbols in chalk around the workspace, and even sung while she worked, carefully gluing pieces into place, carving a detailed piece of inlay, and slowly building a beautifully decorated bow. The decoration was all part of the construction process, as was the ritualized movements and the other parts of the rituals she performed while working on the weapon. In her mind, one was a part of the other, and couldn’t be separated.
The crafter had said one evening, while they ate a dinner of roasted venison, with wild potatoes and onions with rosemary and parsley, that if he built things as slowly and carefully as she did, he’d go out of business.
Her reply was that Elves always worked that way; anything worth making was worth making beautiful. And she wasn’t planning on selling the bow anyway. It was for her use.
He had nodded, and mentioned that now he understood why Elven goods were so expensive. One paid for quality and beauty.
That man was likely dead by now, Elitheris noted. He had been an older man when she had stayed with him, and like most Humans, lived such short lives. That made her think about Eykit, and how Goblin lives were even shorter than Human ones. Dwarves lasted a few hundred years, so Taid was likely to be around a while. But Eykit? He was going to be gone in an eye blink. It made her feel sad. She would just have to enjoy what little time she had with him.
She found that thought a little surprising. He wasn’t the type of person she would normally be friends with, but there was something about him that made him very likable. Despite what he did for a living.
But she needed to find a good wood shop, with an accommodating crafter. She had developed a list of places to visit as she had noticed them around town.
Eykit hadn’t been interested in coming with Elitheris, which was too bad. His charm and negotiation skills might have been useful. But he had said he needed to check in with his own guild and see what they needed him to do.
That was okay. Elitheris was capable of handling woodworkers herself. And she knew what she was looking for, so the things that set her on edge in the city were less of a distraction.
Elitheris went to what amounted to “woodcrafter’s row”, and area where the Carpenters’ Guild had several shops fairly close together. She went into the first one. It was a decent sized shop, with space capable of building things up to three meters long. Tools were racked up on the rear wall, and a countertop separated the customer space from the workspace, likely for safety reasons as much as security.
There were several people working there. One was constructing furniture, a chair by the looks of it, although it wasn’t far along. Another was cutting plant material down to size.
From them, she was able to get a list of every shop on the Row. She even found a bowyer on the list. She thanked them for their help, and went next to the bowyer.
His shop was smaller, and she found him shaving down the ends of a longbow. She watched him for a while. He’d shave a bit off of the ends, then take the bow and mount it to hooks on the wall, connecting ropes to the ends, which then ran through a pulley system about two meters from the bow. Pulling on the ropes would then pull down the ends of the bow, and the bowyer could tell how far the deflection was and if it was balanced, and thus tailor the draw weight.
He did this a few times before Elitheris made herself known.
“Oh!” he said, “How can I help you?” He was a Human of about forty years old, clean shaven and with short brown hair. He was obviously strong, with lean muscles that she could see flexing on his arms when he moved.
Ander Osgar, bowyer and fletcher
“Uh, I wish to build myself a bow. But I lack a space with which to do that. Would you be able to spare a little space or allow me to use your tools occasionally? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I don’t know anyone in this town.”
She was carrying her bow, which he noticed. Even from a distance, he could tell it was a quality bow.
“I’m looking to craft a bow that has a higher draw weight than the one I have right now.” She held up the bow she was carrying.
“Oh!” he said, as he got a better view. It was beautiful.
“I have already been collecting the materials for it, but I just don’t have the tools to do the crafting.”
“Ah. Let’s see what you can do. You built that bow?”
“Yes.”
“May I see it?”
“Sure.”
He held out his hand. He wasn’t about to take it from her. He was too polite for that. Elitheris noted and appreciated that bit of courtesy. She placed the bow in his hands.
While he perused her bow, she checked out his shop. It had what seemed like nice tools, and in addition to the bow making tools, she could also see jigs for arrows and fletching as well. The only thing he lacked was a small forge for making arrowheads. A couple of crossbows hung on the walls. It looked like a full service shop.
He looked at it carefully, from one end to the grip to the other end, tested its pull, and saw how it reacted to tension. He seemed to have little trouble drawing it back; most bowyers were also good archers. They had to be, to test their work. He spent a lot of time examining it, especially the carvings and inlay work. Some of it was very intricate.
“Nice work,” he said. He knew it was an understatement.
“Thank you,” Elitheris replied.
“Man, if I didn’t have all of the apprentices I needed I would love to take you on. But I suppose I could let you work here, for a price. Sort of like rent.”
“Okay, how much?”
“I could let you work here for twenty marks a week.” He figured that Elves being Elves, it would take her months to make her bow, and all he had to do was let her rent a locker for her materials. She likely wouldn’t be here all day every day either, so he felt he was getting a pretty good deal. And he would be able to watch her work. He might even learn something, unless she did that witchy Elf thing with the chants and rituals.
“Seems fair. I not going to be able to be here every day, because I have to do other things to make money, but as I’m able I’d like to come in when I can and work on it.”
“Sounds like we have a deal, then?” the crafter asked.
“Deal,” Elitheris said, holding out her hand. He took it, shook. “I’m Elitheris. And you are?”
“Ander Osgar. I’ve got two apprentices you will be seeing around as well. Meria Swiftfeet, and Kargath Cromûsh. Both should be willing to lend a hand, if required. I’ll let them know you’ll be dropping by now and again.”
While Eykit was hanging out in the Pig’s In His Cups tavern with a couple of his fellow Skulls, getting caught up on inter-thieves’ guild rumors and scuttlebutt, Jakkit came in. He strode over to Eykit, and said, softly, “You guys have been summoned to see the Baroness. Sounds like she has an opening in her schedule.”
“About the property, maybe?”
“Yeah. Apparently so. She wants to talk to you guys. In person, on this day, at this time.” He handed Eykit a scroll, tied with a nice embroidered ribbon. He opened it, and saw that he had two days. “Wear something appropriate.”
“Uh, Iceman, do I have someone to talk to about what ‘appropriate’ means?” Eykit had no clue as to what kinds of clothing he should wear to see a baroness.
“You might want to try this shop.” He gave Eykit another piece of paper. On it was written “Annalynn’s’ Fine Clothes and Tailoring”.
“Thanks, boss,” he said, as he left in a hurry. He had to tell Elitheris, Taid, and Almë that they had an audience with the high mucky muck.
They all balked at having to spend money on clothes. They all realized the importance of it, though. Elitheris had no interest in owning any part of the Manor. “Hey,” Almë said, “you get to save the money you would have spent on a dress!”
“I’m actually curious to see what she would look like in a dress,” Eykit said. “Never seen her in one.”
Elitheris had to think about the last time she wore a dress. It was when Celumarauca had still existed. Before she burned it down in that horrible accident. She could barely remember what wearing a dress felt like.
Eykit also told them about Jakkit’s shop suggestion.
“I’m ready to drop some money on clothes I’ll never wear again. It’s fine,” Eykit said, resigned.
They had two days to get clothes tailored to them that would be appropriate for courtly use. They went into the city.
Eykit, Almë, and Taid entered Annalynn’s shop, the bell on the door ringing as they did so. There were a few racks of clothes along the edges of the room. A well-dressed man, tall, Human, and attractive, walked up to them. When he saw Eykit, he said, “Ah, good! You’re here!” His voice was a pleasant tenor.
Eykit said, “Great.” He wasn’t sure he liked being recognized so much.
Almë said, “Hello, good sir.”
“So, I’ve heard you guys need to have some nice clothing.”
“We have an audience with the Baroness,” Eykit said, not sounding like he was excited about it at all. “Aren’t we important.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “apparently so. Step this way.”
Eykit gestured at himself. “Somehow, I need to make this appear decent and reasonable, and I don’t have a lot to work with.”
He looked at the three of them for a few moments, then said “Just a moment,” and turned away and went to two others who had been in a back room. “Okay,” he told them, “we need to get these guys fitted for some very nice clothes.” He turned back to the three customers. “What is the time frame we have to work with?”
“Day after tomorrow,” Eykit said, glumly.
“Right! Should have guessed.” He didn’t sound pleased. “Rush jobs, yay.” He sighed. “Then we will modify what we have into something that should work. It’s not the proper way to do it; we really should be starting from scratch for you, but we just don’t have the time.”
He looked around. “Should do. We have clothes that should fit you more or less. We even have Goblin sizes. We cater to everybody.”
“Normally I just wear little boy’s clothes.”
“Well, it may come down to little rich boy clothes, but we’ll tailor them so they will work for you.”
First, the three employees of the store each took one of them, and got their measurements. Then they spent about six hours with them, trying on clothes and then spending a lot of time marking them up for tailoring.
“This is going to be expensive,” Eykit groused. There was no doubt about it, it would be expensive.
Eykit got his second choice color; they didn’t have anything that would fit him in his first choice. But the clothes looked nice on him, and they would fit well when they were done with the bespoke tailoring.
Almë and Taid were a bit easier to fit, although Almë required some significant tailoring, due to his tall size and almost emaciated slenderness.
Once they had their new clothes, the head clerk and Eykit haggled over the price. Eykit managed to get it down to only a thousand marks each for the sets of clothing, for a total of three thousand marks.
Almë looked uncomfortable. “I need a loan.”
Taid, grumbling, said “I’ll cover you, Elf. Here is the 200 you need. You own me 250 next eightday.
“Sure, thanks Taid.”
They handed over the large amount of coins. They went back to the manor.
Ruby was a bit frustrated. Another day, another lack of Zorion. Another city, and no Zorion. The damned Empire had too many cities. Where was that asshole? She’d tried Seeker, several times, but it had never worked. She figured he had some kind of scryguard amulet or something.
He hadn’t show up all day. He had never walked in through the front door. She had a list of his offices an arm long, but they had always been empty. And she hadn’t heard that he had died, or disappeared, so he must still be out there.
She had approached the problem in several different ways; trying just walking in and asking, and using more secretive ploys like the one she tried in Port Karn.
She wondered where the others were. She sort of liked them. She knew that Almë had gone to the Port Karn Agricultural Council, probably to join that mage guild. Elitheris had said she needed to find a carpenter’s shop or a bowyers. Eykit had gone to do things with his guild of thieves. She didn’t know where Taid had gone.
They had told her about Vesten Manor, but she didn’t know where that was. From the description, it had to be outside of town, in the vast agricultural area that took a day to travel across.
But she could ask around. A manor shouldn’t be hard to find. She headed south.
Elitheris was at the manor when Ruby arrived in the evening. It hadn’t taken her long to find the place; it wasn’t far from the edge of town, and there were plenty of people working for local manors who knew the name and location.
“This guy you are looking for,” Elitheris said. “Is there any reason that I couldn’t just go in and ask for him?”
“There is a very good chance that he would just send someone out to tell you that he wasn’t there, or that he didn’t actually exist at all. He knows he’s being hunted. I think he’s ordered all of his underlings to deny his presence, and possibly his existence.”
“I was just wondering. I’m a good sneaky person, although not a small one like Eykit. And I’m a good sniper, but I don’t know how useful that is to you. I was just trying to see if I could help out. What else is there to know about this person that would help us identify him?”
Artem, Tennant, and Tricola was a large mage guild, spread out over numerous towns and cities. “How many branch offices have you visited so far?” Elitheris asked.
“Eleven, so far. Some of their branch offices have as many as two people in them.”
“I was thinking…I could just walk in and say I wanted to send a message to my folks.” She would say that her folks live in a village near Knightsmill. Then the mage would send a mental message to her folks magically. Then maybe she could sneak around afterward….Maybe she could talk to the person in charge with a message involving a very sensitive matter? Someone with authority, to fully satisfy her needs. She’d need a better wardrobe, to look the part of a rich client who could afford to keep secrets.
That idea got out of hand. Elitheris wouldn’t be able to pull off a deception like that. She lacked the attitude, capacity, and desire to do so. She could be Ruby’s assistant or bodyguard. Or a clerk or valet. She thought that she could manage being a quiet assistant.
The sun had set before the trio of shoppers came back to the manor. They were a little surprised to see Ruby there.
“Hey, what up, girl!” Almë said.
“Not a girl,” Ruby responded, insulted. “I’m an adult Hobbit. And I’m starving. Your larder is crap.”
“Hey, I just filled it with deer and antelope meat!” Elitheris said defensively.
“Yeah, that’s a problem for me. I don’t eat meat.”
“Ah, sorry.”
Almë changed the subject. “Did you find your guy?”
“No, I did not. His office was empty all day. I don’t think he’s going to be sitting in that office right now in front, with the street just outside his window.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Almë asked.
“Mister Spins-A-Tale, here,” Elitheris poked Eykit in the shoulder, “is going to go in and demand to see the manager. As if we need to see someone in authority because we have information of a sensitive nature. And I will accompany him as a clerk.”
“But you don’t have any good clothes Elitheris,” Almë said. “I can do it.”
Elitheris disagreed. Almë had been there, and was known. It shouldn’t be him. Which left Taid. Spill-the-Beans Taid. But as long as Taid kept his mouth shut, he’d be fine.
They went into Artem, Tennant, and Tricola. They walked up to Mick, the clerk at the front desk. Eykit did the talking. He launched into “persnickety customer” mode, saying that he had a message that was confidential and he wanted to make sure that its security was ensured by the highest officer of the guild they had. He wanted to know how many people saw the message, and what was done with it, and how many people might be able to intercept it.
Mick did his best to mollify the increasingly agitated Goblin client, whose voice had raised an octave since he started to talk. He got a bit more flustered when the Goblin mentioned that the information was sensitive intel about certain Imperial government officials that absolutely couldn’t be shared with just anyone. He didn’t say the word “treason”, but the implication was there.
Ruby had suggested that dropping the name “Mr. Clemens” might be a good idea.
Mick said, “We take client confidentiality very seriously. It’s a privilege to send messages for clients, and we do everything we can to make sure that private messages stay private. We are bound by our own creed, not to mention that anyone who violates it is highly likely to be fired. Our business model is based upon our reputation for total confidentiality, and we would go out of business if no one trusted us.”
In a sense, it is similar to how the networks of couriers worked. Their reputation was on the line in a similar fashion. They had to be trusted not to open other people’s mail. And they didn’t, as a general rule.
Ruby gave them a name of one of her colleagues to be the theoretical recipient of the message. She also gave them a code phrase, along with the actual message she wanted sent. It was a real message, to a real person in Adayn. She needed to check in anyway.
Another reason they needed one of the officers of the guild was that sending a message all the way to Adayn was very difficult. They needed a good mage…the best, if possible. And that was likely one of the officers, and certainly Mr. Clemens could do it.
“Uh,” Mick said, as he looked up how far Adayn was from Port Karn on a series of tables in a thick book, “we don’t have anyone in the office at the moment the could handle that distance with any reasonable chance of success. We are still willing to try, but it will cost you.”
“’Not in the office’ What does the mean?” Eykit asked.
“Here in town.”
“Where can we find someone who could send the message?”
“Well, I’d say the only person who could send it that far is our guildmaster, and he isn’t in the office. Probably won’t be for weeks.”
“Can we find him somewhere?”
“Oh, he’s on a tour of all the different branch offices, making sure everyone’s doing their jobs. Helping out when he’s there if they need it, that sort of thing.”
“Is that a circuit that he does on the regular?”
“More or less. He’s never really in any one place for more than a week.”
“Does he have a travel plan or something?”
“Not really. He makes it up as he goes along. At least, he has in the past. He’s never been big on itineraries.”
“Do you even know where he is going to be?”
“Yeah. In general.”
“So we can send a message to him, wherever he is? And have him relay it?”
The thought went through Eykit’s head that sending the message to Zorion might just tip him off, and be the last thing they wanted.
“How far away is he now?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know where he is.”
“Ah, so he’s not on a schedule.”
“Like I said, he makes it up as he goes along.”
“Can you leave us a message when he’s back?”
“Yes, I can do that.”
“Any idea of how long? A rough estimation?”
“A couple of eightdays.”
“The information is really important and we need to relay it. The sooner we can get in touch with him, the better.”
“Time sensitive, I take it?”
“Yes.”
Going overland to Adayn would take months. Sailing around the coast would take several weeks, assuming the weather held and there were few stops on the way. Even sending a Aarakocra to deliver it would take an eightday, if the flying courier wasn’t waylaid by something or someone. No, magical means was the safest and fastest, even if they had to wait a couple of eightdays.
“Whoever your guildmaster is, he isn’t in regular communication with you?”
“Every once in a while we’ll get a message from him. It’s not a regular thing though.”
“Can you call him back to town, next time you reach him?”
“We can try. We can at least ask him, since we have a client that needs his services, and no one else can do it.”
“Okay.”
“If he shows up, I’ll let you know. Just leave your names and where we can find you here in this ledger.”
“Did the guild leader leave here recently?” Eykit asked, writing a fake name down in the ledger.
“No, he’s been gone for eightdays,” Mick replied.
Eykit and Taid left the guild building, going across the street to where Ruby, Almë, and Elitheris waited, along with the two dogs.
“Well,” Eykit told them after explaining what they’d heard, “that explains why he hasn’t been at his office, or anywhere you’ve looked. He’s been traveling around the Empire.”
“Plus, since he stole all of the money, he wouldn’t want to do anything predictable,” Ruby stated.
“Well, that is that, then, for a while,” Almë said. “We have an important meeting with the baroness tomorrow. Want to join us?”
“What would you want me to do?” Ruby asked.
“Lend some credibility to our mission,” Eykit said.
“We’re trying to buy a mansion,” Elitheris said, even though she really didn’t consider herself part of the purchasing party.
“Well, we don’t really want to buy it. We’d rather it just be given to us.” Eykit was always trying to get the good deal. And how much better a deal would a free Manor be?
“We just want to run it,” Elitheris amended. “We want to profit off of it. And I’ll be the wildlife manager. Huntsmaster, I think it’s called.”
Almë asked if Ruby wanted to join them in running the Manor. Then he told her about the secret lab, which, if he kept telling everyone he met, wouldn’t be secret much longer.
She wanted to see the lab, and the rest of the secret basement. They led her down the stairs into the pantry, then Almë did something under the stairs, and popped open the secret door, which swung out on silent hinges.
It lead to a corridor which opened into a very nicely appointed study.
“This is my crib,” Almë said.
Ruby could see several medical books, and several on necromancy. There were more books she didn’t have time to see before being shown the lab. Was Almë a necromancer?
It was filled with all sorts of alchemical equipment, of a type and quality she had never seen before. A male human moved between the two center tables, each one an elixir brewing station. He was adding some powder to a bubbling pot, and glanced up when they had opened the door. He got a momentary look of annoyance on his face before shrugging in resignation at the interruption.
If they wanted to keep showing the lab off to everyone and their neighbor, he was going to stop keeping it a secret.
Ruby walked in, over to Ekain, who tried to ignore her. He was busy, doing very delicate work, and didn’t need any distractions. But she talked to him anyway.
“What are you doing in this lab?” she said in a nonaccusatory tone.
“I’m renting this lab, and doing alchemy in it,” he answered. “In my lab.”
“Sure sure,” Ruby said, stepping back a pace. “I just wanted to know what you were working on.”
“Potions.”
“I can see that, but what potions?”
He looked at her. She was all up in his business. He glanced at Almë and Eykit, who were in the doorway. “Should I tell her what your business is?”
“Yeah, sure,” Almë said.
“Fine,” he said with a shrug. He pointed to the table closest to the door. “That one,” he said, “is a batch of Fire Resistance potions.” He pointed to the one he had just added the powder to. “And this one is Fetching and Carrying.”
“And you are selling these?”
“Three doses of the first batch of healing potions were for them,” he said, indicating the doorway and the people in it with a thumb. “The others I’m selling to help pay for this place.”
“So you have customers?”
“Well, of course.”
“Who are they?”
“My customers are my—and their—business. I can’t divulge who they are.”
Almë spoke up. “He’s the local alchemist from the New Square district. So he’s pretty tight with the New Square Skulls.”
Gods! That dumb Elf is going to get me killed! Ekain thought. “I’m not a member of the New Square Skulls! I simply have a shop in their territory!”
Ruby was very interested in what the alchemist was doing, because she was always interested in people who might be able to influence the rich people, who in turn influenced the goings on in the city. She wasn’t sure what this guy was actually doing, but the potential for political usefulness was there.
She had made a study of alchemy, at least its theoretical underpinnings. She didn’t actually brew potions, but she had while learning about them. She checked out the mixture on the first table. It smelled like an in-process fire resistance potion. Color looked right, too. She went to the second table, and looked into that bubbling pot. It smelled like an almost finished fetch and carry potion.
Ekain watched the Hobbit woman sniffing at his mixtures. He wasn’t sure he liked her much. She was nosy.
“What made you choose those two elixirs?”
“They only take seven days to make. And I don’t know how long I’ll be able to work here, because these guys,” he pointed to Almë and friends, “don’t actually own the place yet. I’m squatting, just like them. But this lab is just too good not to use!”
“He could always go back to his shitty lab in town,” Eykit said.
“It’s a perfectly functional lab,” Ekain retorted. “It just doesn’t compare to this one, that’s all.”
Almë then wanted to show her the other part of the secret basement.
Eykit nudged him. “We haven’t even shown that to Ekain!” He said softly. “And you want to show some secretive bounty hunter or whatever?”
“Yeah, but we want her to be helping us, right? So we should—“
“Should we, though?” He stood in front of the door, not letting anyone get to the doorknob. “I’m just amazed at how much information you just fling around!”
“Taid already told her about the necromancers experimenting with Shards and putting Shards in people!”
“Yeah, but he didn’t say there was a secret room under the house that has a fully equipped surgical theater where he did it! With a blood drain! And meat hooks!”
Almë barged past Eykit. He was dead set in showing the Hobbit all of their secrets.
“Why not?” Eykit said in frustration. “Why not? I’ve just spend a thousand marks on clothes I don’t want!”
“That’s exactly why we are opening it up.”
Elitheris said, “What, so she can be our sugar mama?”
“Well, I don’t think she has that much money,” Almë said. “But at least we aren’t completely starving any more.”
“Oh my gods….” Eykit moaned. What if she was a spy for the Flower Street Harriers? Or worse, what if she was a spy for the City Guard? It would be just like them to find some person from the other side of the Empire and use her to worm her way into his trust.
Ruby looked into the room. The section by the door had a pair of articulated surgical chairs. Nearby were cabinets and counters. Standing against the wall were two coffins. At the other end of the room were three steel cadaver tables, complete with drains. At the far end of the room were two rows of five morgue lockers. Running down the center of the room were hooks on trolleys, so anything held by the hooks could be moved from one end of the room to the other.
Currently, carcasses hung from each of the two hooks. One was a small deer, the other was an antelope. Some cuts of meat had already been carved off of them. Elitheris had been using the steel tables as a butcher’s workstation.
The room could definitely be considered ominous. The surgical chairs had integral straps for holding down patients. And the fact that there was what appeared to be a morgue at the far end meant that sickness and infection could be rampant in anyone receiving surgery here.
Ruby wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to throw her lot with these people. They squatted in a run down, dilapidated manor house surrounded by fields of weeds. They had a nice lab, but they also had a weird medical lab that smelled of blood and despair.
She needed their help in order to find Zorion Clemens; they had at least proved useful for that. “Well,” she said, “I still need your help. But I think I might be able to help you get this place.”
“If you help us secure this place, you won’t have to pay us,” Almë blurted out.
“At all?”
“Ever?” Eykit asked, incredulous. Was Almë insane?
“For quite some time. Let’s make it—“ Almë said.
“If this continues to be a mutually beneficial relationship…” Eykit started.
“I’m hungry, and I love fresh vegetables.”
Almë said, “I’m working on it!”
“I know,” Ruby said. “I just really like green veggies. And maybe I can cook some of them up. I have decided I will tag along tomorrow and help you. But I want to stay here, in a private room with my dog.” Staying there, in that run down house, would be the last thing Zorion would expect. He’d never think to look for her there. She didn’t expect him to start hunting her, but one never knew. He might be feeling desperate. He had to know that Central was after him.
They had never been to the Citadel before. They were met at the gate by a group of guards in the livery of the Archduchess. They confiscated any weapon larger than an eating knife, tagging each one an storing it in a locked room.
They were led into the grounds by a low ranking officer. The grounds were primarily pavers, forming an immense flat area mainly used by the Army for drills and formation marching. They walked past Featherstone Keep, a walled castle inside the walled Citadel. It was at least six stories high.
“Ugh, that’s a lot of stairs,” Eykit said, eyeing the tall keep.
“Archduchess Featherstone is a Dwarf,” Taid said. “So she likely has ramps instead of stairs. Not a lot of stairs in Dwarven cities. You can’t get wagons up stairways. And once you have a ramp, there is no reason to add a redundant set of stairs.”
They continued around the keep, and as they got closer to the administrative buildings, they could see a park with a pond. It was mostly grass with wildflowers, but a stand of trees grew on the far side of the pond.
The administrative buildings were three or four stories tall, made of grey brick, with pale red tile roofs. This section of the Citadel was a very busy place. People were everywhere, going between buildings on whatever business they were about.
They were shown into an office building, and put into a conference room. It wasn’t terribly large, and its primary feature was a table and chairs that took up almost all of the space in the room.
They were shown to seats. Two guards stayed just inside the closed doors, at attention. After about five minutes, which seemed longer, because Eykit was unable to get the guards to talk at all, Baroness Walters walked in.
Baroness Kyran Bethany Alanna Walters
She was an attractive woman, in her twenties with dark hair and dark skin. She wore a blue dress of relatively simple design, but with elaborate embroidery and beading along the collar, sleeves, and down the center row of buttons. She had her hair up in a tasteful coif that looked like it took a servant an hour to arrange.
She arrived with a stenographer and an aide-de-camp. Two other guards were stationed outside of the doors, bringing the number of guards up to four. They were armed with swords and shields, and wore gambeson with brigandines. They wore the olive and khaki livery of the Tondene Imperial Army.
Taid and Almë knew that these guys were likely hand-picked, and were from the upper echelons of their units. They were the best. Both of the inside guards were Orcs, the ones outside were a Human and a Dwarf.
The baroness sat down at the head of the table, the stenographer sat next to her, and her aide-de-camp stood just behind her. “So,” Baroness Walters said, “Who are you, and why was I supposed to give you an audience?”
There was silence at the table for a few moments. No one wanted to talk first. Eykit tried a few times to speak, but for once, nothing came out.
Ruby knew how to talk to high status individuals. She introduced Eykit, Almë, and Taid, then herself. She did her best to take what she had been told about the manor and its grounds and how they could put the manor to good use. She also mentioned that Almë was a plant mage, a member of PKAC, and was already drawing up plans to improve the land. PKAC had told him that should part of the responsibility of the manor fall to him, that would be his primary focus until the lands were producing again.
“No one is taking care of the manor right now,” Ruby said.
“The previous owner left,”Eykit said, finally finding his voice, “and the property was abandoned. The lands are fallow and growing only weeds. So of course no taxes are being raised from it. It’s a dire shame.”
“So,” the baroness said, “apparently you are telling me that I should turn over an entire manor house to a gardener?”
“Not just a gardener! We are a consortium of uh, mages and skilled tradesmen.”
“Explain to me why I should let you run Vesten Manor.” The baroness’ face betrayed nothing.
“Because we’d be really good at it,” Eykit said.
“And not, say, somebody else? There are plenty of capable people.”
“Well, first off, no one has stepped up. Like I said, it’s going to ruin at this point. It’s falling down upon itself. Herbert Vesten was not taking care of it. And we would like the opportunity to try. We think we can make a go of it. We have our gardener, who’ll be working with Essential land. He’s already made great strides.” He hadn’t, not really, not yet.
“And what benefit do I get if I elevate you in this manner? Gardener,” she turned to Almë, “why don’t you tell me.”
“Um, I was told to shut up.” He sheepishly looked to Ruby.
Ruby whispered to him, “When the Baroness asked you a question directly, it’s generally good to answer her.”
Almë nodded, and enthusiastically explained how great of a plant mage he was, and how good the gardens were in Nendo Lantasirë, his home town where he had worked in them. He described how he shaped the houses as they grew, and how he tended the defensive plants.
“And obviously we will be better at paying taxes than Herbert,” Eykit said.
“So,” and she turned to Eykit, “what makes you think you can become landed knights?”
“Well, we’re not really trying to become landed knights.”
“Doesn’t matter. People will think that because you have the manor, that you are minor nobility. The fact that you aren’t won’t really come into it. Perception forms reality, like it or not, especially where the upper classes are concerned.”
“Why would anyone need to know?”
“The fact that you are running a manor would be news enough. They will think you are landed knights, whether I grant you that status or not.”
“Because I’m one of the best plant mages around? Is that a good enough reason?”
“Well, a little birdie did tell me that you were a decent plant mage.”
Almë swallowed a retort about only being a “decent” mage.
For his part, Eykit really didn’t want to become a knight. Sure, it had its perks. But he didn’t want anything making him more public than he already was. It was bad enough that he was recognized as often as he was! If he was a knight, then more people would recognize him, and his whole livelihood would be threatened.
“What if we did it like, where it wasn’t ours, and it belonged to someone else?” Eykit asked.
Almë sputtered, and started kicking Eykit under the table.
“Like a shadow corporation, sort of, where we just, you know….”
Almë looked apoplectic. He started counting, then started meditating to calm himself down. Eykit was going to ruin everything! But going berserk wouldn’t solve anything, and just make things worse, so Almë did what he could to stay under control.
Ruby stepped in. “If I may have a word?”
Baroness Walters glanced at the Hobbit. “And who are you, exactly? My notes don’t mention a Hobbit.”
“I’m Ruby Smallburrow, from Adayn. I’m here on vacation.”
“And what connection do you have with these guys?”
“They helped me out with a problem I had. And I actually have seen their place, and it looks abandoned and really in need of repair. And I saw how good Almë is with his plant magics, and the others are really passionate about the place and want it to succeed. If you think about it, if you have some nobleman who will just ignore this place again and won’t feed the people with the food from the farm, you will have nothing again, and they won’t be paying their taxes. They will likely just be using the property to get money out of it, rather than any higher goals. They won’t care about you.”
She gestured around at her companions around the table. “Here you have some guys who don’t have that much right now, and it’s a place they’ll take care of because they are really passionate about it. You and the city get some food out of it, and a win-win situation. It has a lot of potential.”
“You realize,” the baroness said, “that if I give it to you, it puts me in a vulnerable position? Vesten Manor is a prize, minor though it may be. But it’s still coveted. Instead of forging new or better ties with whichever noble might get it, I am alienating all of them. This could be potentially dangerous, as alliances are vital.”
She stood up. “Okay, I’ve heard enough. And your time is up—“
Almë cut in, “We can also—“
She didn’t let him finish his interruption. “I will take your arguments under consideration, and make my ruling by the end of the eightday.” She turned and left the room.
Eykit put his head in his hands. “I feel like I just wasted a thousand marks on these clothes.” Maybe he could sell them back.
But it was just a preliminary interview. She hadn’t made the ruling yet, and it might not all collapse around their heads. Maybe they influenced her decision….
Still, their arguments seemed pretty weak when they remembered what they had said. But, it was over now. They had done what they could, and could now only hope that Baroness Walters took pity on them.
Almë had the most to lose, really. Although, PKAC would likely make him work on the manor regardless of who owned it. He would be annoyed if he lost the chance to be an owner, yet had to work there anyway.
“Ugh, this is painful,” Eykit complained. “Alright, fine. Fine fine fine.”
He’d need to keep the clothes at least until the ruling, which, according to the baroness, would be in two days.
They stood. The two Orc guards hadn’t moved, and they hadn’t closed the door after the baroness had left. They had just waited patiently for the “guests” to rouse themselves to leave. When Eykit, Almë, Taid, and Ruby left the room, they did too, closing the door and following their charges out.
They had two days. They could at least use the manor for two more days.
“Maybe Almë can quick-grow some vegetables that we can offer as a little sampling?” Eykit suggested. “And maybe I can filch some guy’s wallet and give that to her?”
“Did you really want to pull out of being an owner, or just be a shell owner or whatever?” Almë asked Eykit.
“I just don’t want to be fricking famous, is the problem!”
On the way out, Almë did what he could to memorize the layout of the Citadel. They were escorted back to the main gates, where they got all of their stuff back.
Most of the day was used up. As the Citadel was on a rise, the city lay spread out below them, a lumpy sea of reddish tile roofs and grey stone, speckled with blobs of green from trees. Off to their right, the mouth of the Altasirya River flowed out into the sea. The offshore breeze brought the tang of salt to their noses. Where they were, there were only residences between them and the ocean, so they didn’t smell the wharves.
Two days went by, slowly.
Almë waved at him. “Welcome to Almë Manor!”
The courier reined up, looked confused, then said, “I must have the wrong place, then.” He turned his horse around.
Eykit kicked Almë’s shin. “Stop! My gods! You are not helping!”
“Oh wait!” Almë shouted, “We only potentially renamed it. Depending upon what’s in the letter!”
“I’m looking for Vesten Manor,” the courier stated, annoyed. “Is this Vesten Manor, or is it not?”
“Currently, yes,” Almë admitted. He pointed to the big “A” formed out of a boxwood that now obscured the sign built into the wall that said “Vesten Manor”. He’d been busy the last couple of days feeding his ego by making a hedge with his name.
“I am looking for and ‘Alme’, ‘Eykit’, and a ‘Taid’.”
“I’m Almë.”
“Eykit,” said the Goblin.
“And I’m Taid,” the Dwarf said.
“Good. Then let’s go inside,” he said, dismounting and tying the reins to a ring on the stone wall.
The courier noted the condition of the place on the way to the front door. The expression on his face said that he recognized that it had seen better days. But he said nothing.
The courier stopped in the foyer. Elitheris and Ruby were there. He opened up his satchel, and pulled out a scroll. He unrolled it, and started reading.
“I, Baroness Kyran Bethany Alanna Walters, hereby grant land use rights of Vesten Manor to Almë, son of Callion and Eluwen, Eykit Hykkisi, and Taid Tehoredor Lasu, contingent upon their oaths of fealty to me. The Commendation Ceremony will be held on Starsday, Harvest 37th, at 12 bells, in the Featherstone Amphitheater.”
He then rolled up the scroll, saying, “And be there an hour or two early. You’ll be assisted on what to expect and how to respond.” Then he left.
“We got ourselves a fucking manor!” Eykit said.
“Woo hoo!” Almë cried. Considering how much work he was going to be doing, Eykit was a bit surprised at how excited he was. But if he’s into twelve hour days casting spells one after another, so be it.
“Contingent upon our oaths of fealty,” Eykit mused. “What does that mean? Because I am already committed to a guild! Does this mean that I—I don’t even know what this means!” He was agitated, and worried that he might be betraying some sacred oath or something. He was young, and ignorant about how these ‘noble’ things worked.
“It’s an oath that you acknowledge her lordship, and you are a vassal.”
The Feudal contract was a two-way street: the vassal vows loyalty, but so does the liege. At least, that is the way it’s supposed to work. In theory. In practice, well, people were people, and many didn’t fulfill their obligations if they could get out of them.
The Commendation Ceremony was five days away. At the Citadel, at sunset.
“Ruby,” Eykit asked, “have you gone through one of these things? Do you know what it’s all about?”
“Yes.” She could tell that Eykit was agitated and scared shitless. This kind of public acknowledgement really terrified him.
Almë added, “Eykit, you should have thought about that earlier!”
“I thought we’d just be handed an envelope, and they’d go ‘thank you for playing!’ Is everyone in town going to suddenly know who I am? Because that could be a problem.”
“Only the nobles will know, plus whatever audience is there. And the nobles might forget you as soon as you leave their sight.”
“Okay, I can no longer do a job in the wealthy areas.”
“Maybe you can do better jobs now,” Ruby said.
“No, I cannot. My jobs involve petty theft!”
“Yeah, but maybe you can now go to noble areas and do things.”
“Just another peer, just like you guys, don’t mind me while I take your hard won inherited goods that were passed down from generation to generation. Mine now, thanks! I will take good care of them.”
Ruby explained how the oath of commendation worked. One person swears to honor and follow the other, and vice versa. It was more complicated than that, but boiled down, it really was that simple. It was like forming an alliance, between a small country and a much larger one.
“I gotta talk to the Iceman,” Eykit said. “All this fealty stuff is great and all, but my number one loyalty is not to her.”
It’s possible that Eykit could step back from this, but now the Baroness’ knew him.
Eykit pretty much ran all the way back to New Square Skulls territory, nearly flying through the doors of the Pig’s In His Cups tavern. “I gotta talk to Iceman!” he said to the first Skull he saw. He was directed to a restaurant down the street. He burst in, wild-eyed and sweating from exertion. He’d left his mail shirt at the manor. He’d needed speed.
Jakkit stood up immediately when he saw Eykit. “Come with me,” he motioned to his underling, and they went into a private dining room. Toren Ghent, Guildmaster of the New Square Skulls, was there, eating dinner.
Toren looked up from his plate of grilled meat and vegetables, and saw the expression on Eykit’s young face. He cocked his head, and said, “I think I may know what this is about.”
Then he set his fork and knife down, moved his plate aside, and took a sip of wine. “So what can I do for you today?”
“So, I’m about to become landed gentry. Being as I’m, you know, unschooled and have no idea what this means…?”
Toren nodded. “Did it mention anything about an expansion of your status?”
“No, not really.”
“Or to become a Peer of the Realm?”
“Yeah, uh, no, it didn’t come up until two days ago. And I actually kind of thought we’d be turned down, so I didn’t think anything of it. I figured that it wouldn’t be an issue because we’re a bunch of idiots!”
Toren laughed and pounded the table, and Jakkit chuckled, unsuccessfully hiding his amusement. Toren said around his laughs, “Thank you, I needed that.”
“There was no way the baroness would let us have that place! We have a berserking Elf hedge mage, a barely out of adolescence Goblin thief, an incurably honest clanking Dwarf, and a traumatized Elf huntress. Who would have thought we would have been granted a whole freaking estate? Not me!”
“Congratulations, then.” Toren seemed amused by the whole situation.
“I don’t know if that’s really in order.” Eykit was practically hyperventilating, his words coming out faster than normal, and normal for a Goblin was pretty fast. Maybe it was their relatively short lives, but they tended to try to get as many words as possible in edgewise as they could.
“I thought I was getting a room of my own where I didn’t need to share it with four other guys. That’s what I thought I was getting.”
“Apparently, you’re getting a lot more than that.”
“Eeyeah. What do I do? What do I do?” The words ran together, sounding more like “whaddooidoo.”
Toren leaned back, a little smile on his face. “You accept it, of course.”
“Okay. That’s it?”
“Yeah. Unless it interferes with what you are doing for us.”
“Yeah, I don’t want it to. That’s the thing. How do I make sure that it doesn’t?”
“You just don’t do anything that interferes with what we’re doing.” Eykit still looked flustered.
“Okay,” Toren said soothingly. “Calm down. Slow down. Breathe. Count to ten.”
“Okay. Give me a minute.” Eykit breathed deep breaths, trying to calm down. He could feel his heart beating, not only in his chest, but in his ears and fingers.
“There are plenty of rich and powerful people that work with thieves’ guilds all the time. So it’s not an either/or situation.”
“Wait. You’re serious.”
“Yes. Did you think that the politicians were honest?”
“Well, I just kind of thought we were fighting against each other.”
Toren gave one of his little smiles again, but shook his head. “There’s a little bit of that, true, but we also have alliances and we also fight with each other.”
“Okay. I kind of always thought we were scrambling from the bottom.”
“Well, in a way, we kind of are, but not always. You have to remember where the thieves’ guilds came from. Citizen’s protection agencies. We’re here because the city doesn’t protect the people. That’s our job.” He smirked. “We also have other jobs, too, but protecting the locals is where we came from. Why do you think you are called a ‘street soldier’?”
He paused a moment. “Do you think the City Guard prevents crime? No. That’s us. We prevent crime in our area.”
“I know first hand that the City Guard perpetrates more crimes than they stop.”
“Ah, you noticed that, did you?”
“Yah. Been on the receiving end of that.”
“We all have, to a certain extent, yes. There is a reason why there is a… bribe budget in the ledger.”
He sipped his wine. “Don’t worry about it.”
“So it’s not the end of the world?”
“No. Most likely, she’s not going to have you do very much for her anyway. Except run the manor to the best of your ability and to make some money for her, hopefully sooner rather than later. Anything else, and she has people for that. People she trusts who can get those things done, and done well.”
Eykit was starting to feel less anxious. “Okay,” he said.
“The sooner you can pay taxes on it, the happier she’ll be. And she’ll probably leave you alone unless she finds out you’re incompetent.” He gave Eykit a look. “Are you guys incompetent?”
“No?” Eykit said, in a small voice. It sounded more like a question than a statement.
Toren grinned. “Then you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I had panicked and ran here.”
“And I commend you for that. Thank you for thinking about us.”
“You took me in when I was just a wee young mite of a Goblin and pretty much made me what I am today. And I am fully one hundred percent loyal to you. I hope you know that.”
“That’s good to know, thank you.”
“I wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize what I have with you. Ever.”
The guildmaster leaned forward a little. “You sure you don’t want to be my diplomat?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“You figure out alliances, defuse bad situations, things of that sort.”
“I’m willing to learn. I’m really…you know what I am.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I mean, I can learn, I just don’t know what it is you want.”
“Okay. You’ll shadow me for while, you’ll learn.”
“You got it. Whatever you want, boss. As long as I have your blessing.”
“Oh yeah. What is happening to you is a good thing. We can use that.”
He sipped his wine.
Eykit felt a lot better.
Kynetsday, Harvest 25, 879 AFE
The alchemist was busy working downstairs in the wonderlab. Craftsmen had been into the house and grounds, and had compiled a list of repairs and their costs. The crew had spent some time doing some things they hadn’t had a chance to do with all the business with the necromancers.They were relaxing, squatting in a manor house they had no right to use. But they didn’t care; if someone came to roust them, they could go. Until then, they would appreciate the roof over their heads. They had cleaned up the place, getting rid of any sign of zombies, necromancy, or anything else that was questionable. Well, except for the surgical tables, cadaver tables, and morgue lockers. Those would always be questionable, but Elitheris had turned the cadaver tables into a butchery, where she could dress game and prepare pelts, and the hooks hanging from the ceiling were made for hanging carcasses. She would need a tanning rack for any leather she wanted to make, however, and that would be better out in the courtyard, not inside. Unless she wanted to learn the spell of Air Purifying, that is.
Elitheris, at least, figured it was a better use for the room than its previous function.
Of course, she had had to come down here and do a thorough cleaning of the place first. She didn’t want the meat she had to be contaminated by whatever nasties Vesten and his experimental creatures left behind. It had taken hours, but only when she was done did she haul the antelope and fawn down here to be dressed. She had already dressed the rabbit in the kitchen upstairs. It had tasted good, too, when roasted for dinner.
They also had finally had a chance to go through Herbert Vesten’s research journals. He had been an avid note taker, and had documented his researches and experiments with precision and accuracy.
He had been a necromancer from way back, although he got obsessed when he noticed the effects the Shards had on things. He spent years experimenting, but hadn’t had the breakthroughs he needed until recently, when he made Boots, Lerial, Patricia, and Hoskins. During this time, he hadn’t had time to run his lands, so those went by the wayside. To save money, he laid off the farmhands, letting his lands go fallow. In order to pay for the experiments he was doing, he sold off the things he felt he no longer needed, practically emptying the house of everything of value.
This was corroborated by a series of tax payments that were late, and in some cases, made in installments. There were some loans taken out that he wasn’t able to pay back. Then he died, so the loans got transferred along with the land, to the tune of 72,000 marks. He also had several estate sales, and sold furniture and artwork via a series of dealers all over the city. He even resorted to getting a job, at a pub, as a bartender.
This allowed him a small but useful income, but, more importantly, got him in contact with people. Talkative people; people he could chat with, find out information about, and then later use that information to his advantage. He had become something of a thief, sneaking into people’s houses and stealing whatever Shards he could find.
He was born into wealth, and had always dreamed of being a doctor. He trained with some very good teachers. Because he was born with the talent to be a mage, he also trained with wizards, one of which was a necromancer in secret. He and Herbert got on well together, and Herbert was always trying to find a way to cheat death. But one time he got more interested in what happened after death instead of keeping people from dying. His medical studies started slipping, as he lost interest in healing people. He was a little too focused on the necromancy instead of economics, and he started having money problems. He even resorted to getting the job as a bartender, since he wasn’t interested in getting a job as a healer. He would have made a lot more money as a healer, but he just didn’t like doing that; he didn’t like people enough, as it turned out, and had no interest in keeping people healthy, or having that responsibility in the first place. And if he had become a healer, it’s likely his “other proclivities” would have been discovered, since his curiosity about death might have shaped his healing decisions. He had to remain anonymous; or at least as anonymous as landed gentry could be.
Then he started putting together the info on the Shards, and experimenting with them. It started with the dead, and alchemy. Of course, nothing could damage the Shards; not physical force, magical energies, or alchemical mixtures. But as Herbert tested elixir after elixir, he did notice that he could change them.
It wasn’t anything really visible; just some residual elixir forming a coating on the Shards. From the ingredients of the mixtures he was using, he was able to see some patterns and make some educated guesses. He was able to make the Shards bio-reactive. Even with the dead flesh of a corpse.
He spent time researching Elven ritual magics, trying to understand how they did what they did. In some ways, it was very primitive. But it was flexible. He never truly mastered the “hedge magic” of the Elves; he lacked the deep background required, and couldn’t live long enough to fully grasp it. But he learned enough to invent his own ceremonial castings that allowed him to mate Shards with flesh.
And if they could work with dead flesh, why wouldn’t they work with living flesh? A new avenue of experimentation opened up to him, and he had to share it with some people he knew. So he wrote letters. The first ones were vague, feeling them out. After all, Necromancy was, for the most part, illegal. And what he was doing was…questionable at best. But he soon had a few very careful friends to share his research with. And they started researching too, adding to the amount of knowledge.
The tricky part was figuring out the rituals required to properly insert them into their vessels. It wasn’t technically necromancy, as it required a living vessel, not a dead one. The victims were strapped to the surgery tables, and they were surgically prepared, the properly prepared Shards inserted into the newly formed sockets. Doing this to the dead didn’t work as well; the vessel’s flesh had to be alive. Using corpses worked to a certain extent, and made more powerful zombies, but he was never able to confer the special magical abilities to them, unlike the living subjects.
Control had been an issue. The Shardzombies (an unoriginal name, but descriptive) were more powerful than their more mundane relatives, but they also exhibited some self-awareness. Zombies didn’t have that; they were simply corpses animated by spirits summoned into them for that purpose. Shardzombies did, at least to a certain extent. They never disobeyed orders given to them; there was just an occasional hesitation. Almost as if they were thinking something over. Or the orders were being relayed, causing a delay in reaction time.
The living Shardzombies didn’t use summoned spirits, at least, not in the same way. At least, they didn’t use them for locomotion, like in a ‘regular’ zombie. In the case of the ones using living bodies, the spirit melded with the body’s soul somehow. They became one, and were able to tap into the Shards imbedded into its body.
Herbert Vesten’s lab research notebooks detailed all of this, including how the rituals were to be performed. There were actually several different ones, as it took him some time to get it right. But he explained in detail what he did, and the results, so the last few rituals listed were the ones that worked the best.
In short, the Shards were prepared using a mix of alchemical substances, ritual, and spells (specifically, Loyalty, Sense Spirit, and Zombie). The Shards had to soak in a bath of alchemical fluids (a series of them, in sequence, the first of which is an acid, the second is a mineralized reagent, the third is a biological catalyst, and the last is basically a collagen scaffolding solution and growth medium). This allowed the Shards to grow the nervous system tissues that allow them to interact and control the Shardzombies.
This information corroborated much of what Nathan had told them an eightday ago. He had gotten some of the details wrong, but he had never actually done the procedure, and had it only secondhand, so a few mistakes and inconsistencies were to be expected.
Almë, Elitheris, Eykit, and Taid had a lot to think about.
The biggest question being, what to do with the information. The notebooks weren’t leaving the secret surgical room and morgue. Too dangerous; if someone got a hold of them, they could wreak havoc. There would be Shardzombies everywhere.
Taid sat, holding a pouch in his hand, tossing it up and catching it. It clinked, but not metallically. More like stone or crystal. It was the bag of Shards he carried. “You know,” he said. “We’ve been so busy running around chasing after necromancers that we have ended up with several groups of Shards that we haven’t tested. We could have some pairings and not know it.”
Eykit retrieved the pouch he had, pulling it out of his pants. He had been thinking about what Nathan had said. “I got the story from Nathan that the Shards are going to start affecting me.” If they haven’t already, he thought. “And you’re right. We haven’t checked for pairings yet.”
“Yeah,” Almë said, “we should play a game of Shards!” It was almost as if Almë hadn’t heard Nathan at all. Or didn’t care; after all, they hadn’t affected him, and he was fully capable of ignoring any effect the Shards might have on him anyway.
They had three batches of Shards: Eykit’s 23, of which two were pairs; Taid’s group of 13; and Almë’s group of four.
Almë laid his four out in front of him at one end of the large table in the ballroom. He opened a jar of pickles, and started eating them, one after another, as he waited for Eykit to get his Shards out and see if anything happened. Or Taid. He didn’t care, as long as someone put some Shards down with his.
He got tired of waiting. “Hey, Eykit! Give me those groinShards of yours and let’s see if they match up!”
Eykit dropped a handful of Shards on the table. “Here you go,” he said, backing quickly away. Almë reached into the pile of Shards, and, one by one, placed them about twelve centimeters away from his row of four Shards. No one was near him; Eykit and Elitheris stood about three meters away. Taid was in the doorway that led to the foyer, several meters away. When he had lain all ten of the Shards Eykit had piled onto the table, he leaned back in his chair. Nothing happened. He moved the Shards closer together, one at a time. Still, nothing happened.
There was a chance that if there was a pairing, it could be dangerous. Almë was the only one near the Shards. The air felt still, and tight, and full of tension. No one spoke, and no one moved, almost as if making a sound would cause some calamity. The moment passed.
“Do you want another ten, or the whole rest of the bag?” Eykit asked Almë.
“Hit me up!” Almë was sure it wouldn’t be a problem.
Eykit shook his head, but counted out ten more Shards, and put them on the table about a half meter away from the others. Almë moved them one by one close to the others. Nothing happened.
Eykit stepped towards the table and dumped his final three onto it, stepping back again.
Almë again reached out, took a Shard, and placed it about a dozen centimeters from what was now a very long row of crystals. It sat there. He reached for the second one, placed it on the table close to the others. It and a second Shard flashed, then leapt across the distance between them, slamming together with a loud clack!
Almë and Eykit suddenly got a sense of deja vu, like they had thought of something but could no longer remember what it was. It was like a faded dream; they knew they had dreamed, but couldn’t remember a single thing about it. There was a sense of “there is something I am not remembering”, but neither of them could pin it down with any detail.
“Uh, Almë, did you feel that?” Eykit asked.
“Yeah, I am trying to remember what it was, but it eludes me. That was weird.” He looked around, and tried to see if the surroundings were at all different. Everything seemed just like it had been all along.
“Taid!” Eykit said, calling across the room. “Did you feel that?”
“Um, no, feel what?” Taid hadn’t felt a thing.
“Hey, Almë, you should pick up the pairing and hold it,” Eykit suggested. Better him than me.
Almë, being Almë, barely hesitated. He picked it up. The pair didn’t feel much larger than the single Shards, but he could feel the crisp edges against his palm. He held it for what felt like a long time. “Is something supposed to happen?”
“Give it to me,” Eykit said, reaching out for it.
Almë jerked his hand back, and put the pair in his pocket. He shoved a singleton towards the Goblin. He didn’t want to give the pair to Eykit, and was feeling very suspicious. He was worried the thief would just take it.
“I want to see what’s going on with that thing,” Eykit said, in his most persuasive voice.
Almë reconsidered, being at least slightly convinced that Eykit wouldn’t just steal it. But he looked at Eykit with eyes filled with suspicion as he handed the pair to Eykit.
Eykit concentrated on the pair, much like how he concentrated on the one that allowed them to visit the Water Brane. All he felt was a slightly stronger sense that he had forgotten something. The thought occurred to him that if that pair sucked a memory out of his mind, by definition, he wouldn’t know it. It would just be forgotten and lost.
Taid came into the room, and stood next to Eykit. He still felt nothing. Eykit gave Almë the pair back.
“I think it’s drained,” Taid said.
Almë held the pair in front of Taid. “Focus on it,” Almë said.
Taid stared at the paired Shards held in front of him, squinting. He didn’t feel anything.
They tried to remember what, if any, the rules were for how the Shards functions. During the games of Shards, all of the tables tended to have people clustered thickly around them, likely to have a better chance of whatever magical effect to act on them. There was an initial effect with a certain radius that varied wildly with each connection. Some Shards had an effect that lingered.
It was entirely possible that with only two of them in range, there weren’t enough chances to remember what it was they felt they had forgotten. If there had been more people nearby, they might have had a better chance that someone remembered whatever the hell it was.
Taid’s Shards still hadn’t been matched up with anyone else’s. He placed his on the table near the others. The just sat there, unmoving. Their Shards didn’t have any other connections; just the one that gave Almë and Eykit the odd sense of deja vu.
Eykit pulled out his two paired Shards, and put those on the table too. Nothing happened. There was a feeling of disappointment; there had only been one pairing. But it was pretty rare for connections in the first place, which was one of the reasons people went to the Shardmeets. More chances to get pairings, rather than relying only on their own Shards.
At least now they knew that all of their Shards had done all of the connections between them, and they could mix and match them without worry that something might happen.
The Shards taken care of, they turned their attention to the necromancers. Kallia was next on their list; they had an idea where she was, at least in vague terms. She apparently lived somewhere in the Zirinibar Mountains, a range of peaks about 250 miles (400 km) southwest from Port Karn. That was a fair distance; they couldn’t even see those mountains from Port Karn.
Elitheris remembered those mountains, since she had spent quite a bit of time in their shadow during her wandering years. “Lots of Dwarves in those hills,” she said. “But less jungle, and more forest. A bit cooler there as well.” The temperature drop would be welcome to the Elf, she was starting to get tired of 90° (32°C) days. She was also tired of sweating constantly, and her gambeson’s rank stench because of it.
They would have to revisit the long, grueling trip to wherever Kallia might be located. None of them wanted to contemplate traveling at the moment.
They also weren’t interested in hanging around the dilapidated manor house. If they listened carefully, they thought they could hear pieces of plaster falling onto the floor tiles and hardwood. They needed some place a bit more lively and less run down. They headed into the city.
Taid, Eykit, and Almë wore their armor, fully geared up in case of trouble. Elitheris left her gambeson behind, choosing instead some light summer clothing. It was 34° C, a sweltering summer’s day in high humidity, after all. She still carried her bow and a hip quiver, though. She had to wait for them a couple of times as they panted in the shade, their thick, layered clothing making them sweat and overheat. Fortunately, Almë had been kind enough to do all of their laundry during the previous eightday, so they weren’t as rank as usual. As she waited, she scratched Mr. Wiggles, who also wasn’t wearing any of his armor. He’d have had even more trouble in the heat.
Taid also had Maggie, and Almë walked with his wife’s staff, using it as a walking stick, especially when the heat got to him. It was smooth, straight hickory, shod in brass and copper, with filigreed lines of the metals entwining all the way down its length. Like most things Elven, it was a beautiful work of art. Elves typically had the attitude “if you are going to make something, make it nice to look at.”
They reached the edge of town, the dirt paths they had been traversing turning into proper cobblestones and pavers. A half block ahead of them, they could see a pair of City Guardsmen walking towards them. Eykit started walking behind Taid, using him as a visual block.
The City Guardsmen approached, and stared straight at Taid. “Sir!” the first one said, “What are you doing with that big ol’ stick?” They meant, of course, Taid’s halberd.
“Well,” Taid responded, “we were attacked in town last week, and the attack included two fake city guards. Our friend has a contract on his head, for reasons we don’t know.”
“Really! Ah! It’s you guys! You guys are part of that!”
“Would you mind coming with us, please,” the second guard commanded. It wasn’t a request. “We have some questions for you.”
The first put his hand on Taid’s shoulder, the second guard placed a hand on Elitheris’ shoulder. They weren’t rough, but they were firm. “Come on,” the first said, gesturing to Almë, “we’re going to the station. We’ve got some questions to ask you.”
Almë rolled his eyes, but followed instructions. One guard was in front, with Taid, the other dropped back to take up the rear. Neither noticed Eykit as he faded into the crowd.
The three of them were marched about three blocks to the closest guard station. It was a fortified building, almost like a small keep. It was a three story tall L-shaped building, with a two story high wall enclosing a small courtyard. There were guard towers on at the three corners that were part of the building. Elitheris could see someone in each guard tower, watching over the surrounding neighborhood. It was likely they were there in case some criminal managed to escape; they could get at least one shot off as a last ditch method of stopping them.
Almë was stewing. He was mad at Taid for telling the guards what had happened, and he fought the urge to whack him upside the head with his staff. However, that would have been a bad idea so close to the guard station, so he managed to control himself. It was a struggle, though. Instead, he glared at the back of Taid’s head. If looks could maim, the Dwarf would have needed a wheeled chair.
Once inside the station, Taid, Almë, and Elitheris were put into three separate interrogation rooms. The doors were closed and locked, but not before the guard said “Someone will be here to talk with you soon.”
Eykit followed at a discreet distance, keeping them in sight. He went into a tavern when he saw them led into the guard station. He wasn’t interested in getting any closer, and he might hear some scuttlebutt in the tavern.
The Peasant’s Flask tavern was a dark, dingy dive. Eykit knew of the place; it served below average lagers and passable, if pedestrian, ales. For a few extra marks you could get a version of whiskey that tasted more of lamp oil than anything palatable. But it was relatively inexpensive, so the place was, as usual, packed. Plus, it was about the twelfth bell, and the sun was going down, so many of the daytime field hands and day shift workers were getting off work, and coming to blow off some steam.
In one corner, a pair of Orcs were in an argument. It was possible it would turn into something more, with flying fists and kicks, but so far the burly pair seemed to be keeping their tempers under control. This was a tavern that was heavily frequented by Orcs, so there was a section in the back corner that only looked like a dance floor. It was actually the ‘fighting pit’, an area of the tavern where Orcs could beat on each other without too much damage to the furniture, establishment, or the other patrons.
Eykit saw an empty spot on a bench, and quickly sat down.
He listened to the local scuttlebutt. He heard various things about local city goings-on, and several field hands were talking about the harvest, the weather, and what was planned for next season’s planting. But Eykit heard nothing about anything relevant, so, before the barmaid got to him to ask what he wanted to drink, he got up and left the tavern. There wasn’t anything he would hear in there that would be useful. He was about four blocks from New Square Skulls territory, so he high tailed it back to his home turf.
His fellow Skulls might have heard something useful though. They had a better network of ears than a single tavern did anyway. Once in his area, he started looking for his contacts. He saw his friend Joelle, a sex worker and pickpocket. She was usually the ‘bump’ of the pickpocketing crew, given her looks and obvious sex appeal. He didn’t see the rest of the pickpocketing crew though, so she must have been working the non-thieving aspect of her career.
“Hey, Joelle,” Eykit said as he came up to her.
“Oh, hi, Eykit!” she said with a smile. “I haven’t seen much of you lately. Where have you been hiding?” She brushed her long hair out of her face, tucking it back behind an ear.
“Here and there, when I haven’t been traveling. I’ve been out of the loop lately. What’s the news on the street?”
She filled him in on several local events. One of which was a daylight ambush involving the Everyman Jacks. “The Jacks! On this side of town! And a murderer who killed a guy in front of about nine thousand witnesses! No reason for it, just stabbed some crippled guy in the face! Shameful. What is this town coming to?”
“I know, right? We on alert status, then, watching for any Jacks activity?”
“Yeah, but no one thinks they are going to do anything. But we’re watchful anyway. They’re dangerous, after all. It’s entirely too easy to be stabbed by someone in the crowd, and they will be gone before you can do anything except bleed.” Joelle shuddered. Her job brought her into contact with a great many strangers. But she was pretty tough, and Eykit knew that she carried a pair of holdout knives on her person, just in case.
“Anyone available for a short mission? I could use some assistance with something.”
Joelle thought about it. “Not really, no. Everyone’s on alert for the Jacks, and Amaranth has us busy doing ‘revenue generation,’ as she calls it. And keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Elend has your crew doing the same basic thing. I think the high mucky mucks think that something is going down, and want extra money in the coffers just in case. I’m a little surprised you aren’t running around stealing stuff, Eykit.”
“Well, I’m on a special op for Iceman.” He flashed her one of his patented grins. “I’d tell you about it, but then I’d have to kill you, and that would be no fun at all.”
“Well, since I’m not interested in dying just yet, you can keep your secrets, Eel.”
Eykit said goodbye, and headed back towards the guard station. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew he wouldn’t have backup. He was on his own. He stopped about a street away. He didn’t want to be too close, but he did want to be close enough to react in case there was a commotion. Like if his friends broke themselves out or something.
Meanwhile, the door to Taid’s interrogation room opened, and an Orc in a City Guard uniform walked in. He sat across the table from Taid.
“What’s up?” Taid said jovially.
“Apparently you guys. I’m Tethys Gugnash. Your name?” The guard interrogator said. Tethys was a low ranking officer, about the equivalent to a sergeant.
“My name is Taid Tehoredor Lasu.”
“That tracks. Well, I’d like to ask you some questions about last eightday.”
“Sure.”
The questions started. The Orc asked about what happened with the ambush, who was involved, the exact order of events, and why it happened.
“We were coming back to town, got ambushed by three guys, then two fake guardsmen showed up and ambushed us.” Taid went on to tell exactly what happened, leaving out only anything Eykit-related. He focused on what he did, not what anyone else did. Although he did tell the guard that the wounded Orc was still conscious, hugely muscled, and likely to try to get revenge on the people that wounded him. As Jacks do. He did his best to put the blatant murder of a crippled man in the best light possible, for Almë’s sake. That beanpole psychopath! he thought. He’d better appreciate this!
He went on. “The huge Orc started out with telling us that this killing didn’t concern us, and that they would let us leave. But of course, it’s our friend, and we don’t forsake our friends. He was very threatening, very large, and his name was Jack Muscles. Muscles. And he had them, by the gods. He was huge. We basically felt that if we turned our backs on him, he would be back in the fray, because he was very menacing. Adrenaline was flowing, we’d just been attacked, and stuff happened. The City Guard showed up, then they turned on us, but we found out that they weren’t City Guard, they were just pretending. They were Everyman Jacks too. They attacked my buddy, again, while pretending to tend to his wounds.”
“So that’s why I have my halberd with me. I don’t want that to happen again, and if it does, I want to be ready. We even let a couple of the guys live. One was wounded, and another scurried over a roof and got away.”
The guard looked at the Dwarf levelly. “He didn’t get away. He fell off the roof and hit the courtyard. Splat. Broken skull, broken neck. The luck of the Hobbits wasn’t with him that day.”
“Oh. We didn’t know that.” What had happened was after the Hobbit scrambled over the roof ridge, he fell unconscious. Meanwhile, the Wallwalker spell ran out of power, and the Hobbit slid off the roof and tumbled down onto the masonry pavers three stories below, dying of kinetic energy poisoning.
“In any case,” Taid continued, “we found out about the Everyman Jacks, and that’s why I have the halberd today. Just in case. We’re trying to save some taxpayer money here!”
“I’m sure that’s appreciated. But we would like you to sheath it. We can provide you with one, if you don’t have one. But we need you to use it to peace bond your weapon.”
“That’s totally acceptable. So anyway, I don’t know why you have all of us in here.”
“We’re just getting statements. Thank you, Taid Lasu.” He stood, and left the room. The door clicked shut as he left. It was still locked, Taid noticed.
An Orc walked into the room Elitheris was in, and sat down across the table from her. “Hello,” he said.
“Uh, hi.”
“And what was your name?”
“Elitheris.”
“Tell me what happened last Jyprasday.” Jyprasday was the day of the ambush by the Everyman Jacks.
Elitheris told him what had happened. And told him that Almë was the target, but had no idea why. She also said, “And they tried to shoo us off, telling us it wasn’t any of our business.”
“Huh. That was kind of them,” the Orc guard officer said. “Usually the Everyman Jacks kill all the witnesses, too. Odd that they would give you a chance to leave.” He seemed thoughtful.
“It was also strange that they did it in broad daylight and in front of a street full of people. So I’m not clear what their intentions were.” She didn’t mention Eykit, and focused solely on her own actions during the ambush. The only thing she mentioned about the interrogation of Jack Muscles was that they questioned him as he sat against the wall.
“And how did this Jack Muscles die?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see it. I was focused on guarding the wounded fake city guardsman.”
“Ah, yes. The one called Jack Manco.”
“I think so, yes.”
The Orc asked a few other clarifying questions, then thanked her for her time. He stood, and left the room.
His next stop was Almë’s interrogation room. He walked in, and sat across from Almë. He sighed. “You are Almë.” It wasn’t a question. “I’m Tethys Gugnash.”
“So, what happened on the day you got ambushed.”
Almë replied, “I got netted, thrown onto an area with a Glue spell, got shot with a pair of arrows to the leg, and had a Dwarf hurling bricks at my head as I lay there helpless. And, once I was freed of the stickiness, there were two city guards who attacked us.”
“They weren’t the Guard.”
“Yeah, we figured that, given they all had Jack cards on them.” Almë told them just about everything, up to the part about asking Jack Muscles some questions. “After we overwhelmed them, and the fight was over, I went over to the big Orc and tried to disarm him. He was wounded, and out of the fight apparently, but I wanted to make sure he couldn’t sneak attack us. After all, that had already happened twice to us already. He reached for his knife, we fought, and I stabbed him. It was self defense.”
“Self defense, huh?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“I have a problem with all murders.”
Almë contemplated the fact that the guards hadn’t disarmed him. His staff lay leaning up against the table. In his mind, he could see himself whacking this guy on the head. He figured he could take him, if need be. But he opted for psychological warfare instead.
Almë stared into the Orc’s eyes. “Do we have a problem?”
“Of course we have a problem. You stabbed a crippled guy in the face.”
“He fought me! He tried to kill me!”
“Yes, he did. But he’d had his leg cut off, and he was just sitting there, bleeding out. He was relatively harmless.”
“I had been fighting for my life, and I still had two arrows in my leg!”
“Yeah, So?”
“If he still attacks me—“
“He didn’t, though.”
“He did.”
“That’s not what everybody else said.”
“Who’s everybody else?”
“There are a lot of witnesses who saw you stab a helpless guy in the face. It doesn’t look good for you, Mr. Almë.”
“Fuck off!”
The Orc stood, and pulled a pair of shackles out from his belt. “Hands on the table, please.”
“No.”
“Hands on the table.”
“Not going to happen.”
The Orc stepped back, and pounded on the door. The door opened and three guardsmen walked in. The room, which had seemed fairly roomy, now felt very small indeed. The City Guardsmen looked grim and foreboding. The Orc had a slight smirk on his face. The skinny Elf didn’t have much of a chance.
Almë put his hands out in front of him. The Orc nodded and clasped the shackles around his wrists. He was patted down, roughly. They weren’t taking any chances. A lot of Elves were mages, and this one carried a decorated staff. Almë was lucky they didn’t use mage cuffs on him. They then moved him towards the jail cells.
The Orc went back to the rooms with Taid and Elitheris, and told them, “We have detained your companion, but you may go.” They left, but they could see a pair of guards escorting their friend down the hallway, towards what they assumed was the cell block.
Elitheris asked the Orc, “You’re detaining him for what, exactly?”
“For the moment, questioning. For the murder he committed.”
“Murder?”
“Yes, he killed an Orc by stabbing him in the face.”
“The guy who was trying to kill him? Wouldn’t that be self defense?”
“Not at the time he stabbed him, no. The Orc was not a threat at that point. He had ceased being a combatant. He could have let the City Guard handle it, when they got there.”
Elitheris wasn’t sure who to believe. “Will we be able to speak to him?”
“At some point, I’m sure.”
“How can we find out when?”
“It won’t be today.”
“Is there going to be some kind of arraignment or something?”
“The courts will be involved, yes. He’ll get his day in court, and he’ll be able to make his case then.”
“How long is that going to take?”
“Weeks, probably. But you might be able to talk to the Tethys at the desk there and see if he can let you talk to him while he’s in his cell.”
“Well, then, I guess I have no option but to leave with my companion.”
Tethys Gugnash nodded.
Eykit, from his vantage point across the street and halfway down the block, saw Elitheris and Taid exit the guard station. Almë wasn’t with them. But that wasn’t what suddenly grabbed his attention.
There was a commotion. Not a panicky, run-for-your-lives panic, just a commotion. An almost orderly one. People were moving out of the way, stepping back to provide room for something Eykit had never thought he would ever see. It was a Hobbit. Riding the largest dog he had ever seen. It must have been the size of a pony. A huge, black mastiff, and on that mastiff was a well-dressed Hobbit woman.
“What. The Actual Fuck. Is that?” he muttered.
No one else on the street had ever seen anything like it, either. A palanquin carried by painted slaves and preceded by trumpeters would have caused less of a stir. This was something different. Riding dogs? When did that become a thing? Mr. Wiggles was a pocket dog by comparison.
The mastiff stepped purposely, at a comfortable walking speed, giving those ahead of him plenty of time to get out of his way. The Hobbit looked around, her demeanor proud and used to the reaction of lower classes. She wore what could only be silk clothing, something no one living in this part of town had ever seen except on nobles as they pranced by on their steeds.
From the whispers around him, Eykit knew that the Hobbit on a Dog was going to be the talk of the town. And hoo boy was that dog big. Massive shoulders, huge jaws, prodigious amounts of drool.
Eykit waved to his friends, then pointed down the street at the Hobbit on a dog. They shouldn’t miss this. Whatever ‘this’ was. After a few seconds of confusion, they noticed the reason for Eykits spastic pointing motions.
Everyone’s attention was on the Hobbit and her dog. Eykit was dismayed that with so many people paying attention to her, there was no way he could filch anything off of her. And she looked freaking rich, too. Her clothing was embroidered, and tailored to fit her frame. And they were definitely silk. He once heard that silk felt similar to treesilk, but cooler and slicker.
Eykit’s mind was spinning, trying to figure out a way to pickpocket the Hobbit. He thought he could do it, too, with everyone’s attention on the dog, no one would suspect that someone would be dumb enough to steal anything from her while she rode on the biggest damned pooch anyone had ever seen.
It was close enough for them to see that there was a saddle on the dog. Mr. Wiggles barked at the larger dog, his tail slightly wagging, as if it were not sure how friendly it wanted to be.
The big dog glanced at the smaller barking dog, then promptly ignored him and kept walking.
Elitheris noticed something else about the clothes. They were of Elven design. And the padding underneath, barely visible except to those who knew what it was…it wasn’t silk. It was Elven silversilk. What was a Hobbit doing with bespoke Elven silversilk? It’s not like that stuff ever makes it to market, it’s almost always made with someone in mind. How did she get it?
Ruby Smallburrow had been given an assignment. She was supposed to find someone, and bring him back to her headquarters. He was the head of a large, spread out mage guild: Artem, Tennant, and Tricola. They specialized in communication magic, and were one of the few mage guilds with the ability to actually be spread out over many cities and towns. She had been traveling for quite some time, trying to track him down. Thousands of miles of travel, so far.
Port Karn seemed nice enough. It was in the oldest part of the Empire, pretty much right where Araterre had been, before Gishi Tondene started conquering his neighbors and creating the Empire named after him. The city’s inhabitants were mostly Orcs and Humans, with the other races—Dwarves, Elves, Goblins, Hobbits, and the occasional Skyfolk—represented as well, in smaller numbers. She didn’t see any of the reptile folk here, but then, they were rare in the Empire anyway, hailing from lands far to the south and west.
One thing caught her eye, however, and piqued her interest. Standing at the side of the road near a City Guard Station were an Elf, a Dwarf, and a Goblin. No Human, no Orc. Just the three minorities. And the Elf didn’t look like a city Elf, either. There was something feral about her, like she didn’t belong in a city and barely tolerated it. The Dwarf had skin that almost looked tan, indicating that he’d been out of the Undercities for a long time, and was used to being under the sky. He even looked up at the clouds and blue sky without flinching. And the Goblin looked utterly at home on the street, his eyes flicking this way and that, as if keeping track of every moving person.
But the important thing was the dog. The Elven woman had a dog. A white and brown fuzzy bully breed.
She stopped Norolind’s forward progress with subtle movements of her legs. She reached into a pouch mounted on the dog’s saddle. She kept meaty treats in there, and she offered one to the Elf’s dog. She reached down and held the treat where the dog could reach it. “Hey, come here little buddy!” she cooed at it.
Elitheris saw the Hobbit trying to give something to Mr. Wiggles. She seemed nice enough, so Elitheris nodded and tapped Mr. Wiggles hindquarters, and he bounded off towards the big dog and its little rider. But mostly he went for the treat. His tail wagged and he barked excitedly.
Ruby scratched behind the cute little dog’s ears.
Taid said, “Good Hobbit, what brings you to Port Karn?” She was definitely not a local.
“Visiting friends. What about you guys?” While she was mainly focused on the Dwarf, her eyes flicked over the Elf and the Goblin. “It doesn’t look like you fit in around here either.”
“We are here helping our friend, who has run into a bit of trouble.”
“Oh, what happened to him?”
“He’s an idiot,” the Goblin said, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
“Well, he is an idiot at times, yes,” Taid agreed. “It’s kind of a long story, but there’re some people after him, and we were defending him. There are some questions about how things were handled. So we’re going to be looking for an advocate.” He went on. “We’ve been hanging out, traversing all the lands, investigating all sorts of interesting things.”
Eykit turned to Taid. “You really do just tell everyone everything, don’t you?” He realized that Taid had kept the description vague and ambiguous, but it was still more than needed to be said. He wanted to pull his hair out. Taid should know better; he’s been traveling with me, and didn’t any of my habits rub off on him? Note to self: don’t tell Taid any secrets! Eykit wanted to kick him.
“…And we’re going to go find an advocate for our friend,” Taid finished.
The Hobbit smiled. “That’s nice,” she said. “I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Ruby.”
The Dwarf said, “I’m Taid. That’s Eykit,” he indicated the Goblin, “and that’s Elitheris,” pointing at the Elf. “You’ve already met Mr. Wiggles.” The dog in question was running around the bigger dog, sniffing everything.
Ruby patted her mastiff. “This is Norolind.” Norolind shook his head, and foamy drool flicked every which way.
“Are you a part of a guild?” she asked. “What do you know about the guilds here in this city?”
“I’m a member of the Sentinel Group. Just joined a week ago. Working on some new spells.” Taid volunteered. No one else said anything, and Eykit certainly wasn’t going to disclose what guild he belonged to.
“Are you looking for a guild?” Elitheris asked her.
“Oh, not really, I’m just new to the area and I’m trying to get an idea of what’s what.” Ruby spoke with an odd accent.
Eykit was a Port Karn native. He was born and raised in the city, and had been an adult before he’d even set foot in the more rural areas. Taid was also technically a Port Karn native, although he spent most of his years up north in Zirak Dûm, at the south end of the Melêkurâd Mountains.
Elitheris and Almë had both came from the area near Knightsmill, some four hundred miles away, but they didn’t have much of an accent. Well, except for their Quenya-inflected Elven ones.
Ruby, however, spoke a version of Imperial that sounded very, very different from what they were used to. She had a northerner’s accent, which was found in the Kikraadi River basin. It somehow mixed in the soft vowel sounds of Quenya with the plosive consonants of Mekiitagi, in a soup of Imperial.
“Where do you hail from,” Taid asked.
“From the north,” she replied.
“Cool.” He noticed her ambiguity. And her pale skin, almost like that of a Dwarf. The people of Port Karn tended to have skin tones ranging from light brown to black. That included the Humans, Orcs, Hobbits, and Elves. The Goblins, of course, were shades of olive green, and the Dwarves tended to be almost albino. Ruby was just pale skinned.
Pale skinned traders were common enough, and Eykit had even seen a pale skinned servant in Kraite manor. Come to think of it, she had had an odd accent too, sort of similar to Ruby’s, but different.
“So, the mage guilds. All of you are mages?” Ruby asked.
“No,” Eykit said, laughing.
“I’m not a member of any guild.” Elitheris said. “I’m just a hunter.”
“Ah, a hunter? Bounty hunter?”
It was Elitheris’ turn to chuckle. “No, I just hunt game. For food. I’m an independent Elf and have lived on my own a long time and have supported myself by hunting and selling my catches and making leather items.”
“And she can put a mean arrow between two eyes, too!” Taid said.
Ruby wasn’t sure what to make of these people. One of them was a mage, although he wasn’t dressed as a court mage. He was more a mercenary spellsword. Well armed and armored, too, with enchantments. So, a successful mercenary, and one that didn’t mind standing out in a crowd. In fact, a civilian being armed with a pole arm wasn’t even allowed in Adayn. Taid would find his weapon confiscated and himself clapped in irons before he went ten paces into the royal city.
The Goblin hadn’t said much, although she had noticed him kicking the Dwarf surreptitiously when he seemed to be telling too many details. So, secretive, or just wary of strangers, and not immediately trusting. Intelligent, or experienced, or both. The Elf was pretty open, and seemed to be what she said she was.
The Dwarf Taid and the Goblin Eykit were both sweating and flushed. The Elf seemed comfortable, however. But Eykit was wearing gambeson, with a mail hauberk over it, and Taid was wearing a steel breastplate over his gambeson. In the heat, it was no wonder they were sweating. The heat here, even at dusk, was nearly unbearable to Ruby, who was used to much cooler climes. The only thing saving her was the cooling offshore breeze, although it passed over the wharves before it got to her, so it didn’t smell very good. She was surprised Taid and Eykit hadn’t passed out from heat exhaustion.
“So, are you guys in some kind of trouble?” Ruby asked. “You are wearing all that armor, and have your weapons. Are you okay?”
“We’re fine,” Taid replied. “A bit tired, maybe. We need the security right now.”
“And I’m hungry,” Eykit said. They had gone to the city for a bite to eat, but then got delayed when they were brought to the City Guard station for questioning.
Eykit’s mention of food fell on deaf ears.
“What kind of trouble are you all in?” asked the Hobbit. “Being new to this city, if there is danger here, I would like to know about it.”
“Our friend has someone who is after him,” Taid explained, “and we don’t know why. It’s been pretty traumatic, and they jumped us here in the city. They were going for him, and we came to his defense.” He paused, looking a bit sheepish. “And then I got him arrested. Accidentally.”
He went on. “We don’t really know what’s going on, and we are trying to figure it out. But we know that it’s serious for whoever wants him dead, because they hired a bunch of very dangerous ruffians to kill him. So that’s where we’re at right now. Figuring out the mystery of who wants Almë dead, and why. And now the City Guard has gotten in the way, so we have to figure that out.”
“Based on what I know,” Eykit added, “these guys are serious about taking literally any job, even the stuff no one else will take, that my group of friends don’t do.”
Ruby noted the oblique reference to “friends”. She was savvy enough to know that Eykit was involved in something less than lawful. She didn’t care; so was she, in a way. Although hers was sanctioned by her patron.
“And to deal with the City Guard problem,” Taid continued, “we need to find someone of stature or an advocate or someone to try and get him out of this situation.”
“That he got himself into….” Eykit said quietly.
“Yeah, he’s a little impulsive when it comes to the stabby stab.”
“Little bit,” Elitheris agreed.
Ruby collated this information with what she had already gleaned about Port Karn. Like most cities in the Empire, it was relatively civilized. Violent crime was rare, kept in check by the presence of the City Guard. She’d noticed as she came into the town that a pair of skyfolk circled above, each in its own airspace above the city, and rarely coming close to each other. It was as if they were patrolling, and trying to watch the city below them in some kind of flight pattern. She’d need to watch them for a longer time to be sure, though, but she’d seen something similar in other big cities.
The skyfolk were often employed by law enforcement groups like the City Guard. Their ability to see things from their unique perspective made coordinating ground troops a lot easier, which is why they were so in demand in the military as well. Military units loved having the Aarakocra providing overwatch and cover. Many military units learned some specific Windsong calls as well, in order for the Aarakocra to call directions and distances to the ground troops below. Their calls travelled farther than Imperial words did, with less garbling. It allowed for a quicker response against enemies that the troops couldn’t see, but their flying scout could.
But just because violent crime was not common didn’t mean that nonviolent crime, such as theft and fraud, weren’t. Cities were excellent places to ply those trades. Lots of victims, lots of places to hide, and plenty of distractions to make illegal activities fairly easy to accomplish.
Port Karn was likely no different than all of the other cities she’d been through. None were like Adayn, however. Adayn was a different animal altogether. It was as much a showplace as a city. Being the center of government for an entire Empire, and housing the Imperial Palace, meant that there was a much greater City Guard presence, often with elite units and officers. It was also the home of the largest military bases, both for land and sea, and those units often found themselves doing guard duty in the city as well.
The Imperial Palace was even more secure, with the addition of the Emperor’s Guard, a high number of Rooks, and the First Legion. With all of those very loyal assets at his command, everyone there was on their best behavior. At least, theoretically. There were always those who thought they could get away with things, and sometimes they were even right. Even with magical diviners, not all threats could be found and dealt with before it was too late.
But Port Karn wasn’t the Capitol; and while it was the seat of an archduchy, it wasn’t wealthy enough to pile on the security assets like the Imperial Palace could. Although, she thought, looking around, Port Karn certainly seemed fairly well-funded. It obviously had a strong economy, and the large area under cultivation and the number of fully laden farmer’s wagons indicated that they seemed to have food production under control. She’d even seen some ceremonial casting by large groups of people in the fields as she approached the city. That indicated that the farmers were rich enough to hire mages to help with agriculture.
Almë was in a tiny holding cell, about two meters by three meters. There was a bench on either side, and a chamberpot against the back wall. The front wall, of course, was just bars. There was no window.
The cell block was an eight meter hallway, with four cells on one side, and three on the other. Where the fourth cell would have been was a desk, behind which sat a guard. Next to the guard was a locked door that led back into the guard station.
At the moment, he had the cell to himself, which at least let him recline on the bench without disturbing any cell mates. All of the other cells had multiple people in them, all talking at once, and all of their voices reflecting off of the hard stone brick cell walls. It was loud, and every once in a while the guard would rouse himself enough to shout “Keep it down, ya animals!” or something in a similar vein.
Through the barred window in the door, Almë could see into the office area that the guard used for doing paperwork. He noted with interest that most of the Guard seemed to be literate, and wondered if that was something they taught, or did they only hire those who could read?
He could see, using his Elven vision, one of the guardsmen who had confiscated his things cataloguing them before putting tags on them. He pulled at the shackles that kept his hands in front of him. He sincerely wished they had removed them, now that he was in a cell.
He examined his cell. It was ashlar blocks, well-fitted and mortared. The floor was stone pavers. He contemplated the spell of Earth Shaping. He could shape stone with it as well, although that was more taxing to his system. But he could do it. He wondered what was on the other side of the rear wall of his cell, but he hadn’t been able to walk around the building before being hustled into an interrogation room.
So he had no idea if, should he make a hole in it, he would just end up in another cell. All he knew was that he was on the first floor. There were two floors above him. As he was stuck in the first cell in the cell block, his was on the end. One side was shared with the neighboring cell, but the other he figured was one of the interrogation rooms.
It was cool in the cell, which was a welcome relief from the oppressive heat of the day. He laid on the wooden bench, his body against the cool stone wall. He slept.
Elitheris wanted to know when she’d be able to talk to Almë. And the only people she could think of that would be able to answer that would be the guards in the station. “I’m going to go talk to the tethys inside. See if I can get out of him when we can talk to Almë.”
She went back to the station, and walked in. The tethys looked up, recognized her, and smirked. “You look familiar,” he said, not unkindly.
“Yep. I was just here. I just wanted to know when I’ll be able to talk to my friend and see how he’s doing.”
The low-ranking officer cocked his head, having a short internal debate. “Alan, busy?” he called over to another guardsman. The man in question stood, and walked over to the first guard’s desk. He eyed the pretty Elf, a few not so clean thoughts running through his mind.
“Just doing paperwork.”
“So! Not busy then. Go ahead and escort her back to her so-called ‘friend’. He’s the Elf in the first cell.”
“Thank you,” Elitheris said.
Alan the guard gestured to Elitheris, saying “Come on, this way.” He lead her around a corner and down a hallway, to what seemed to be another office area. She could see a man at a desk with a table next to him. On that table was a set of familiar gambeson, and some items she recognized, including Viryalassë’s staff. His plant wasn’t there, but she remembered that he had left it back at the manor house. She wasn’t sure what he was planning on doing with it, but she didn’t relish having a man-eating plant in the garden.
Off to one side, she could see a strong, reinforced door with a barred window. Through the window, she could see Almë in a cell a few meters distance beyond it.
The guard knocked on the door, heard a response, then got out some keys and unlocked the door. He opened it, and gestured for Elitheris to enter. She could see Almë, who had gotten into a seated position on the bench. The door closed and locked behind her. The guard at the desk next to her nodded at her.
“Hey, what’s up?” Almë asked. He chuckled. “Can you talk to them and let them know it was self-defense?” He then went into his version of what happened.
“And you were questioning him, and technically you weren’t fighting him anymore?”
“No, I wasn’t fighting, I was trying to disarm him.“
“But what prompted you to stab him in the face?”
“He had a dagger and a short sword and I was trying to put them away, like I did for the other guy. And that’s when he attacked me again.”
“Okay.”
“But I managed to prevent him from pulling the dagger out, but I panicked, and stabbed him.”
“Okay.” She looked Almë over. He appeared undamaged, and relatively unruffled. The guards didn’t look like they roughed him up at all. Which meant that Almë had gone quietly, which was good. He hadn’t done anything stupid.
She turned to the guard who sat at the desk, listening to their conversation. “Can we hold his things for him?”
“It’s technically evidence,” the guard replied.
“His clothing? His weapons?”
“All his stuff is technically evidence.”
“Okay, how is that going to prove to you that he wasn’t fighting in self defense?”
“Oh, it will come down to—“
She didn’t let him finish before saying, “That’s bullshit. So it’s really ‘He said, She said’.”
The guard nodded. “In a sense, yeah.”
“So, we were the ones there at the fight, who else are you listening to that is trying to say something different?”
The guard had to admit that there was something about this Elven woman that he liked. She seemed friendly, and genuinely concerned for her friend. He leaned forward in his chair, and whispered, “These are the Everyman Jacks we’re talking about. Technically, this is all just a formality.” He winked at her.
“So he’s going to be let go?” she whispered back. “And how do I know you aren’t one of those fake City Guardsmen?”
He leaned back again. “That would be a problem, wouldn’t it? But nobody here is a ‘fake city guardsman’.”
“Oh, that’s so reassuring.”
“To be honest, we aren’t sure how they got those uniforms. They were either really good fakes, or they managed to steal them, or they got them off of dead guards. But as far as we know, no guards in Port Karn have been assassinated.”
“Where do you keep your supply of uniforms?”
“In the armory, with the rest of the gear. But every guard takes their uniform home with them. So, they could have been stolen, and the guard didn’t report it. But then, it could have been stolen from an entirely different city.”
“Are all the uniforms the same?”
“It’s provincial. Everything in the Province uses the same uniform.”
Mr. Wiggles, ignored by the talking two-legs, went over and sniffed at Almë’s cell bars. Almë reached out through the bars and gave the dog some scratches. Mr. Wiggles rolled onto his back, legs splayed, twisting this way and that as Almë scratched his belly. His tongue lolled out; he was having a good time getting a belly rub. His leg kicked as Almë found ‘the spot’.
“How long is it going to be before he gets processed and gets out of here?” Elitheris asked.
“Probably two days.”
That’s what she wanted to know. There was no reason to hang around town waiting for him if he was going to be stuck in there for a couple of days. It appeared as if the City Guard was doing its job to look like it was doing its job. Security theater. They had to maintain their reputation as peacekeepers. And Almë wasn’t nobility, so having him behind bars for a couple of days while the story died down would allow them to release him without much consequence.
And it was always possible that Eykit might be able to pull some strings if necessary, as well. That guildmaster of his seemed very capable, and well-connected.
“Thanks,” she said the guard. “I’m done here.” She gathered Mr. Wiggles to her, much to the dog’s dismay, and said to Almë, “Hold tight for a couple of days.” She wasn’t sure if he’d heard any of the conversation about his status, but she didn’t want him worried. He’d seemed pretty absorbed with Mr. Wiggles.
She waited for the guard to pound on the door. The guardsman named Alan unlocked the door, then opened it, allowing Elitheris and her dog to leave the cell block. The guard at the desk didn’t have the key, a security measure just in case he was overwhelmed by the prisoners. If they did manage to subdue or kill him, they were still trapped in the cell block with nowhere to go.
She left the station, and rejoined her friends and the Hobbit. Mr. Wiggles ran to the hulking mastiff, sniffing at him. The mastiff sniffed at Mr. Wiggles in return.
She filled them in on Almë’s status, and that the guard let her know that he was basically being held on a formality, so it was likely he’d be out soon.
“So,” she finished, “there is no reason to hang around town waiting for him.”
“Still hungry,” Eykit said.
“We were on our way to have dinner,” Elitheris said to Ruby. “Would you like to join us?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ve got no idea what’s good here. I’d be happy to join you and have you be my guides.”
“I’m not really a people person,” Elitheris admitted, “but your dog is really cool. And I want to find out more about him.”
They went to a tavern. It was the White Lion, a decent tavern in New Square Skulls territory. Eykit went to work on the tavern keeper, negotiating a price for their meals that made the tavern keeper cry when he wasn’t in view of customers. Eykit could be pretty persuasive. Especially when he invoked possible discounts on insurance money. There was no guarantee of any insurance price cuts, but there were enough rumors of such things actually happening that it gave Eykit some ammunition to use when he wanted a less expensive meal than the prices would normally indicate. This time, he managed to cut the prices almost in half for him and his companions.
“You’re obviously a long way from home,” Elitheris said, once they had sat down at a table on the patio and provided their orders to the passing barman. The offshore breeze felt cool in the early evening, a welcome relief from the heat of the day.
The barman came back with their drinks, and a moment later he returned with a pair of ceramic bowls of water for the dogs. He kept the smaller dog between him and the massive mastiff, who completely blocked the path between two tables.
“Just traveling the country to get to know it better.” Ruby said. “Meeting people, hanging around here and there for a while, visiting friends. I have a lot of friends and know a lot of people around the country.”
“Must be nice.”
“Yeah! It is, it is.”
“You are obviously very rich.”
“Thank you for noticing!” Ruby said, smiling.
“Have you spent much time with the Elves?” Elitheris was still curious about the silversilk.
“Yeah, kind of.”
“Your armor is very impressive. I believe it’s Elven, yes?” It was. Obviously so, to those who could tell what it was made of. Although Elitheris had heard of some people asking Elven tailors and embroiderers to decorate mundane silk clothing, to give the impression of silversilk.
Both Taid and Elitheris could tell that the clothing—armor—that Ruby wore was enchanted. Elitheris knew it to be enchanted silversilk armor. It was very expensive, and rare. Elitheris had some idea on what it took to make silversilk armor.
For one thing, it took a mage with at least the ability to use the third level of mana. Trained mages of that ability were extremely rare. It also required a specially grown loom that was enchanted during the growing process. And most Elven settlements didn’t even have one. It required a special species of colony spider, ensorcelled to weave the spider silk used to make the silversilk. And creating each square yard of material was also an enchanted process.
It took a long time to make, and it was usually completely woven on the loom to avoid seams. Thus, they were bespoke items, made specially for specific people. The only time it was ever found on the market it was either looted off of a dead body, or stolen. And a Hobbit had some. Most silversilk garments were handed down from one generation to the next, often with minor tailoring changes to help with the fit. Celumarauca, the town where Elitheris grew up, had actually had a couple of silversilk pieces of clothing. She wasn’t sure if they still existed. They might have burned up in the fire.
And Elitheris didn’t see any seams on it. Depending upon what enchantments were on it, the clothes Ruby was wearing were possibly worth more than the manor the others were trying to get. While this was an exaggeration, it wasn’t much of one.
Eykit did some calculations, based upon his knowledge of markets in the area. A conservative estimate put the value of those clothes at upwards of $130,000. He didn’t include the value of whatever enchantments were on it; he didn’t know what they were, nor would he be able to estimate their prices, as he wasn’t conversant in magical wares except at the most basic level. It was the most expensive thing he’d ever seen. And it was across the table from him.
Eykit had seen his guild’s treasury. It had never had that much money in it at the same time.
“Urrrgggk,” he croaked out, his voice taking it upon itself to not function in a way that would possibly get Eykit in trouble. He quickly took a drink to steady his nerves. Holy shit! he thought. How do I steal that? I’d be set for life! He tried to think of ways to do it, but his mind kept focusing on “This lady has been traveling around the Empire with only her dog for company. She has probably seen some shit, and dealt with it.”
And him? She could likely deal with him. Probably turn him into a toad. Or worse. One of those red striped salamanders that were a Goblin delicacy. Just his luck; turned into a roasted snack on a stick. But he so wanted to touch them….
Elitheris glanced around. If this Ruby person was royalty, then there were likely some secret guards somewhere around. She didn’t see any, though, so either she wasn’t royalty, or the guards were very good. And Eykit didn’t seem to be worried about any royal guards, and he was pretty paranoid about such things.
She was important, somehow. Probably an Elf-friend. Which meant that she did something for some Elves, and they rewarded her with a priceless treasure. Elitheris suddenly felt very insecure about herself. She felt that her own people loved this Hobbit way more than they did her. It brought back all of the painful memories that she had spent so long trying to come to terms with.
Ruby noticed the change in Elitheris’ demeanor. What had been awed curiosity became something much sadder and darker. It was almost as if the Elven woman had crumpled into herself, like wadded up parchment.
Elitheris became very quiet and withdrawn as she dealt with her emotions. It had been a while since it had been this bad. Gods damn it, she thought. Get a grip. A grip! Under the table, her fists were clenched.
Mr. Wiggles got up and walked over to her under the table. He sat down, leaning against her legs, his head on her lap. She stroked him gratefully.
“So, Ruby,” Taid said, ever the mercenary, “are you in need of adventurers?”
“Uh, not in need, no.”
“Or just anyone to help you with an adventure that you might want to pay for?”
“Want to invest in a property?” Eykit asked.
Ruby shook her head. She talked to Elitheris about Mr. Wiggles, and introduced her to Norrie, her dog.
“Well, your dog is extraordinary. Is it even a dog? He’s so big! Where did he come from? Where do such breeds exist?”
“I call him Norrie, but his real name is Norolind.” It was Quenya, and meant “strong friend”.
“Is it okay if I pet him? Can I touch him?”
“You can ask him.”
The Elf turned to the big, hulking dog, who, even though he lay on all fours, still had his head at waist height. “May I pet you?”
The big black dog just stared at her with large brown eyes. She could detect no aggression in him, so she scratched him behind the ears. Those big brown eyes closed. His fur was short but silky.
Ruby reached into a pouch, and pulled out a few pieces of beef jerky, and handed them to Elitheris. “Dogs like treats,” she said, smiling.
She turned to Taid and Eykit. “So, you guys are for hire?”
“Absolutely,” Taid said, while at the same time Eykit said, “Definitely!”
“We need money,” Elitheris added.
“So, what do you do?” The Hobbit asked. “What’s your business?”
“I’m really good at chopping off legs, apparently,” Taid said.
“We’ve mostly been doing job board things. Although people seem to be able to find us to do other things, as well,” Elitheris stated.
“We found out about these Shards, and—ow! Stop kicking me, Eykit!—then about some necromancers who were putting them in zombies. We’ve mostly been doing work for hire. Killing some kind of servitor creature in an old temple. Getting rid of some cannibals. The usual.”
“What do you know about the Shards? Do you have some?”
“We do, a few. No interesting ones, though.”
“Do they do anything good?”
“I went to the water brane once. I came back wet, and had to wash my clothes twice.”
“Open book Taid, spilling everything as usual,” Eykit mumbled. Where, oh where, were these people’s sense of caution? She could be a spy! With a dog! A big, obvious, dog that would make it impossible for her to hide….okay, probably not a spy.
Dinner was good, drinks were better than average. They could have gone to an actual restaurant, but that would have cost about ten times as much. And all someone really got for that was a larger menu, ambiance, and a lack of rowdy commoners crowding your table. Elitheris, Taid, and Eykit were pretty poor, as was Almë.
Taid couldn’t help himself. Here was a potentially wealthy, powerful client, so it was in his best interests to play up himself and his friends to her. And hopefully get a commission, and thus money. And rich clients tend to not pay too much attention to the minutiae, so a little padding on daily expenses wouldn’t be out of line.
“We’ve had experiences. Almë I can’t vouch for. He’s a little impetuous, but we try to keep him under control because he has a good spirit, and he is first one to rush into most stuff, which is why he’s in jail.”
“Is he in a guild?”
Taid had to think about it. “I think he joined the Sentinel Guild, like I did.” Then he remembered that Almë only paid to learn the spell, at an exorbitant cost because he didn’t join the guild. “No, actually, he didn’t join the guild. I don’t think he’s in a guild. Almë’s wife was murdered, which started this whole process. I didn’t know her. But apparently it had led to what we went through lately. But we’ve been pretty successful, and most of us try to avoid violence unless it comes at us. We try to get things done peacefully, if possible.” He remembered the Orc priests, and the cannibal goblins, and the zombies. “If possible,” he repeated. “A perfect example is that we recently took out a cult of cannibals. And we killed the servitor of some dark god in an old temple.”
“So we’re pretty righteous people,” Elitheris said.
“Where did you get those jobs from?” Ruby asked.
“The servitor job came from a priest of my patron god, Aheru-Mazda. He sought us out.”
“He sought out you, actually,” Eykit said. “You devout types seem to be able to seek each other out somehow. I blame the gods.”
“So a priest came to us looking for help, because people were disappearing and no one knew why. So we tracked them down, and came across this temple, and all sorts of stuff. The Goblin thing, the cannibals…we met this Goblin who was running from them. They were worshipping Kalshebba—“
“Goddess of food and drink,” Eykit added helpfully.
“—and killing and eating people. So we just sort of stumbled on some of these, and others we’ve sought out. Lately, we just started following leads we had and taking care of problems because we could.”
“Or because we are idiots,” Elitheris said.
“We didn’t like what we were seeing, and that led to us having access to a manor where we, uh, live.”
“Oh, you have a place to live?”
“Uh, you could say that.”
“And you can blame Almë for that too,” Elitheris quipped.
“It has most of a roof, and almost all of the walls,” Eykit joked. He was exaggerating. The house was suffering from deferred maintenance, but it was still sound, structurally. And as far as they new, the roof didn’t leak.
“But I don’t want to manage an estate!” Elitheris complained. “I’m annoyed I’ve gotten sucked into this. I don’t want to do this.” She shook her head. “He’s like ‘We’ve gotta have a house! We gotta hire people! Get some farmers, raise our own food!’ And I’m like ‘Dude, I live in the jungle, and hunt things’.”
Eykit looked over at the pained Elf woman. “There’s a nice chunk of jungle right behind the house….” He shrugged and gave Elitheris a half smile. “You can live there.”
She glared at him. “That’s fine.”
“That means you guys…how did you meet? You don’t seem like you grew up together.”
“We are a totally accidental partnership. It just sort of happened because of something that was happening outside of Port Karn.”
She turned to Taid and Eykit. “How did we meet, anyway?”
“You were by yourself,” Eykit said. “And I was, uh, tactically retreating from some folks in the criminal underground. I found this guy,” he indicated Taid, “who looked burly and strong, and big enough to hide behind. Then Taid and I stumbled upon Elitheris here. And Taid had a job to go kill a hydra, and he was looking for some help to kill it.”
“Did you? Kill it?” Ruby asked.
“Oh yeah,” Eykit said. “But not without incident.”
“Freakin’ Eykit,” Taid said.
“I’m a city boy! I didn’t know what I was doing! It was the wilderness.”
“He decided to steal the hydra eggs.”
“Collect! Collect the hydra eggs!” Eykit corrected. “The hydra was dead at the time. Besides, in many cases, trauma draws people together. Which we had a lot of.”
“There was the reek Taid stepped in,” Elitheris mentioned.
“And the man-trap plant that I had to rescue both of you from.”
“We could have used somebody with plant magic!” Eykit said. ”Where was Almë then?”
If they ever have to traipse through the jungle again, Almë will be really handy to have around, once he was out of jail.
“So, yes,” Taid said, “We have this manor, but we haven’t fixed it up yet since we are still going through the process of getting permission to get control of it. It was the manor of someone whose responsibilities we relieved them of.”
“We also relieved him of the responsibilities of having to breathe,” Eykit added. He still remembered the Hoskins-thing and the meat hook he almost got impaled on.
“These were bad people,” Taid said hurriedly, not wanting Ruby to get the wrong impression of them. “This one had at least four of five living people acting as zombies. He also tried to rob and then kill us. So, he wasn’t a good person, and now we have his place. It’s not in great shape right now, but we are too poor right now to fix it up, and we don’t really want to fix it up until we get ownership and usage rights. But we need some influence with the nobles and things like that to get things squared away.”
“We need somebody wealthy,” Eykit said.
“Wealthy and influential.”
“We need an investor,” Elitheris said.
“Actually, we need ownership first, before an investor. We don’t want to fix it up only to have it taken away from us.”
“That’s true. So we need an influencer.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying. And maybe money is the influence?”
“Maybe.”
That gave Ruby some things to think about, if she wanted to get involved with these people and their schemes. But she was on a mission, and that took precedence. She could visit the mayor of the city, and let them know she was in town, as a courtesy. But it wasn’t necessary. Sometimes she would do that, other times she wouldn’t. It depended on how she felt about what she heard about the local government. If she felt it would be wise to curry favor with them, then she would let them know she was in town. Otherwise, if they weren’t of use to her, she would be more stealthy.
But for Port Karn, keeping a low profile was better. As low profile as a Hobbit riding the biggest dog around could be. Central, the nickname for Domestic Imperial Central Knowledge and Intelligence Group, had given her a great amount of leeway in how she was to do her job.
Ruby had a second dinner. It was almost as if she hadn’t just ate. Eykit was amazed how much the Hobbit woman could ingest. He was familiar with Hobbits, and their six meals a day, after all, one of his best friends, Amaranth, was a Hobbit. He had the feeling that Ruby usually had nine. He had grown up poor, on the street. Many nights had been empty stomach nights, so he had never really eaten that much. As a young boy, he’d been in the habit of eating only half of what he’d found, saving the other half for later. There was no guarantee that he would find more, so it was wise to save it.
Ruby found the three of them interesting, but didn’t hire them on the spot. She’d have to think about that for a while. She went off to find an inn. Eykit was able to point out a couple of the higher end ones in Skulls territory; if the locals were wealthy and successful, so was the guild. After she left, he talked to some of his guild mates, letting them know about her and to make sure she wasn’t robbed or hassled. She was a potential ally, and there was no reason to scare her off. Besides, anyone wearing what she was wearing was likely very dangerous.
Eykit, Taid, and Elitheris made their way back to the Manor.
Velisday, Harvest 27, 879 AFE
Ruby spent the next two days wandering around town, getting her bearings, and listening to gossip and current affairs in public places. She was keeping an ear out for something specific, but didn’t hear anything related to it. Disappointing, but not terribly surprising. It had only been a couple of days so far.She was focusing mainly in Port Karn’s Old Town areas, within the ancient protective walls that the city had overgrown. There were more wealthy people there, and more of a chance to get word about her target.
By asking the right questions of the right people, she eventually found out about the city’s mages’ guilds. The Port Karn Agricultural Council was the largest and most powerful, and the only guild with an enchantment division. It was also something of a farmer’s union, a farming planning council, and the center of food logistics for the city. They were as much a division of government as mage guild, and thus had more political power than the others. From what she could tell, they were relatively uncorrupted, and seemed to take their charter seriously. It helped that they also were the richest, so had little incentive to break laws and gain profit via criminal means. They did just fine without having to “cheat”. Although she figured that there were corrupted individuals in the organization; there always were.
The Elementalists Guild specialized in the elements: Air, Earth, Fire, Water, Light, and Sound. They were the second largest mages’ guild in the city. They were what people thought of when they thought of “mages’ guild”.
The Some Group specialized in magics affecting bodies and minds, with particular focus on healing magics. While not as altruistic as the Red Star, they would often help out during catastrophes and accidents, often donating their services when necessary.
The Red Star was the premiere guild when it came to healing. They operated several hospitals around town, providing medical care to the people of the city. Some of for only a small fee (and sometimes for free). In addition to healing mages, they also had mundane doctors, herbologists, and alchemists on their payroll. In a sense, they were also a very large mages’ guild, if all of their non-mage employees were included.
The Sentinel Group primarily worked with Protection and Warning spells, Movement spells, and, to a lesser degree, Elemental spells. Their focus was on bodyguard, protection, and security for their clients. What they didn’t advertise was that they also did surreptitious observations—spy work. Ruby was aware of this, as it became obvious to her from what they didn’t say when she asked her questions.
There was also the Engineers’ Guild. They focused on Making and Breaking, Earth, Water, and Light spells. They were responsible for many of the infrastructure projects in the city, even if the work didn’t involve magics. Most of their mages were also craftspeople of one stripe or another.
And last but not least, Artem, Tenant, and Tricola specialized in communication and knowledge magics. Their guild hall in Port Karn wasn’t overly large, but that was deceptive. Being able to communicate instantly gave them the ability to have what amounted to franchises in different cities, so while they weren’t large in any one city, the fact that they could be found in most large settlements meant that they were one of the largest guilds in the Empire.
More important than the names of the guilds were the locations of their headquarters. Most seemed to be in the older part of town, likely because they were old themselves, and had the land before the city expanded past its walls, or because that is where the money was. And where the money was, mages soon gathered to take advantage of the markets.
Like any craftsman, they went where there was a market for their services, and magic services didn’t come cheap. The poor could rarely afford magical aid. So having the guild in poorer areas was a waste. The Red Star Guild seemed to do alright, although from what Ruby could glean they were subsidized by the city, and treated much like part of city infrastructure.
But it was Artem, Tennant, and Tricola, however, that Ruby was interested in. She paid particular attention to anything she heard about them.
Following up on a hunch she had about Eykit, she also asked about the local criminal underground. She didn’t get many details, as no one who really knew anything trusted her with sensitive information, but she was able to get a list of many of the thieves’ guilds and their approximate territories. Judging from the area Eykit seemed most comfortable in, she determined that he was a New Square Skull member. She filed that information away, for later.
Meanwhile, Elitheris spent the next two days trying to find a decent woodworking shop that she could pay to use. She wanted to start building her bow, but had none of the tools she needed to do so. They weren’t something that she could carry around with her on her travels; they were bulky and heavy, and she also required workbenches and jigs. None of which she had.
Perhaps, one day, she might be able to have a workshop at the manor, if they ever manage to get control of it.
In the meantime, she needed to borrow someone else’s tools. And she was willing to pay for the privilege. Every time she’d come to town, she’d kept an eye out for carpentry shops, knowing that one day she would need their services. So she knew where to look for at least the first few places to try. She needed a friendly, well-appointed shop with skilled craftspeople who would let her come in now and again to spend a few hours working on her project. It would help if they had someplace she could store her materials when she wasn’t there working on it.
Almë was released after the two days. As an Elf, he barely noticed the time; it was occasionally loud, but he was able to ignore that easily enough. Two days was slightly longer than a blink of an eye to someone who could live for over a millennium.
The City Guard gave him all of his stuff back, even his Shards. He was a bit surprised by that, actually, given how the Shards were so coveted. But apparently, these guards were honest. Who would have guessed?
When the guard placed the Shard pair in his hand, he got a flash of inspiration. This was the Shard pair that had given him and Eykit the sense of deja vu, and now he thought he knew why. It had to do with dreams. The pair interacted—somehow—with dreams.
He hoofed it back to the Manor. He was glad to be free, and thankful he hadn’t needed to go before any judges. That might have been awkward, and no guarantee of freedom, especially since there were so many eyewitnesses who didn’t corroborate his story. The weight of evidence would have been against him.
And he could thank the Everyman Jacks for that. By being such thorns in the side of law enforcement, his killing of one (in self defense) was being swept under the proverbial rug.
He opened the front door to the manor house, stepped inside, raised his hands over his head, and loudly said “Almë’s back! Woo! What up?”
It was morning. He was out of jail. And he needed money to fix up what he insisted was “Almë Manor”. No one else called it that, and shut him down as soon as they heard it, but it didn’t seem to stop him from renaming the place.
But he gathered everyone together to discuss the finances. “So, he said, what is our next plan? We need money…any ideas as to what job we want to take next? Jobs in the city? Go after the other necromancers? Rescue some blue babies? Although they’re probably purple at this point.”
“We met this Hobbit in town,” Taid said.
“Which Hobbit?”
“Her name is Ruby.”
“She’s got a very expensive outfit,” Eykit said.
“Tell me more about this!” Almë said.
“Just saying. Hobbit, on a big dog, and she’s rich.”
“We think at least a hundred thousand,” Taid added.
“What? A golden dress, or what?” Almë sputtered.
“Elven silversilk,” Taid stated. “Enchanted.”
“I thought you said she was a Hobbit?”
“Yep.”
“What the hell is she doing with silversilk?” Almë knew that silversilk was a difficult and expensive thing to create. How did a non-Elf get their hands on any?
“But she seemed pretty cool, and if we run across her again we may end up doing some work. She asked if we were for hire.”
“This is a good sign,” Eykit mentioned.
“To do what?” Almë asked.
“I don’t think she was willing to pay us in clothing,” Eykt said.
“She wouldn’t tell us, yet,” Taid said. “But yeah. She seems to have nobility, so there might be some avenues forward.”
“Well that sounds way better than doing stuff for free,” Almë admitted.
“Yeah, it’d be nice to find some paying work.”
“So, where can we find her?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not a great plan!” Almë laughed. “What’d you do, lose her?”
“She went off to her own thing. It’s not like we have a Seeker spell on her.”
“Well, it shouldn’t be too hard finding a Hobbit in silversilk.”
“But she knows we’ll be looking for her,” Taid said. “Maybe she’ll ask around looking for us.”
“Everyone’s going to know about the Hobbit on a dog. There is only one. It’s not like she can hide.”
“Okay, we have a plan, such as it is,” Almë said. He went to freshen up and water and feed his plant. It bivalve leaves snapped closed around the beetle Almë had found for it.
Then he went downstairs, intruded upon the alchemist in the lab, and interrupted his delicate precision work with a mundane request to feed and water his plant when he’s gone. Fortunately, Ekain was competent, didn’t mess up the titration he was in the middle of, and didn’t blow up the lab taking himself and Almë with it.
“How long will you be gone,” Ekain asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Almë answered. “Have a great time.” He turned to leave, got as far as the doorway, and turned back to the alchemist. “By the way, are the potions ready?”
“No.”
“I thought you said seven days?”
“It’s been six. It’ll be another day.” They had been ready two days before, but Ekain didn’t like getting interrupted and given a trivial plant-sitting task. He was actually in the middle of starting the next batches of elixirs, this time Fetching and Carrying, and Fire Resistance. The lab was a joy to work in.
“Okay.” Almë noticed a satchel by the door. “Hey, what’s this?”
“That is some miscellaneous stuff I was able to work on in between the times when I had to focus on the elixirs I’m brewing. Glues, varnishes, industrial grade acids. Stuff like that.”
“Oh.” He went back upstairs.
It was time to seek out the Hobbit and her dog. They headed into the city.
They asked around about her. The third person they questioned said that there were some rumors about a Hobbit and a big dog in the old part of the city.”
They headed north, following Third Street all the way up past the old walls and into the heart of Port Karn.
“Now what?” Almë asked.
“Mr. Wiggles should be able to pick up on his scent,” Taid said, referring to Norolind, the dog.
Elitheris shrugged, and let Mr. Wiggles sniff things. They went up and down different streets, into alleys, out of alleys, following along after the dog. Mr. Wiggles left his mark on a great many trees, building corners, planter boxes, and piles of garbage. He seemed to spend a lot of time at street vendors, usually the ones roasting meats.
“Surprise, surprise,” Eykit complained. “The dog goes where the food is.” He was getting tired of tramping through crowded streets in the heat of the day.
“Well, that makes sense,” Almë said, “Hobbits like food too.”
“Well, I don’t think he knows what he’s supposed to be looking for.”
Eykit asked the food vendor, a Goblin, who stood on a crate to see over his cart. “Hey, we’ve heard that there’s a Hobbit in town with a really big dog.” The vendor turned a crank that rotated a roasting chicken over hot coals. He basted it with a spicy pepper and honey glaze.
“One she rides?”
“Yeah! Cool, right?”
“Yeah, biggest fucking dog I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ve never seen a dog that big. Any idea which way she’s going?”
“Well, when I saw her, she went that way,” he said, pointing down the street. “But that was a day ago.”
“Ah, a day. So she hasn’t been back around here?”
“Not today, no. I’m hoping they show up, because that dog eats like mad. Even more than she does. And she’s a Hobbit!” He placed a few sausages on the grill, under the rotating bird. He glanced down at Mr. Wiggles, who looked back at him expectantly.
“I’ve never seen anyone eat so much! And she’s only my size!”
“Hobbits can really pack it in.”
“So that dog is pretty amazing, right?”
Mr. Wiggles barked once.
The Goblin nodded. “Makes a pretty good mount, surprisingly. I’d hate to be on the business end of his jaws, though!” He chuckled.
“Is the dog pretty fierce?”
“I imagine so…a dog like that, sure.”
“Well, thanks a lot.”
“Although this one seems pretty chill…it barely even barks.”
As if on cue, Mr. Wiggles barked again. Multiple times.
Eykit looked down at Mr. Wiggles, who was seated by the corner of the cart, tail wagging, and barking to get the Goblin’s attention. “Unlike this one over here, huh?”
“Yeah, your dog barks a lot.”
Taid thought about Ruby, her dog, and travel. “If we ever go anywhere with Ruby, we’ll have to bring another pack animal carrying nothing but food.”
“I bet that dog has massive shits, too,” Elitheris said. “You’ll need to watch your step, Taid.”
“Yeah, I’ll probably step in one, and it will damage my armor.” Taid remembered the reek.
The others were still looking for Ruby, though. They moved to another section of town, no longer following the sniffing Mr. Wiggles. They had decided that people who work on the street—food vendors, shop keepers—would have a much better chance of seeing a Hobbit riding a huge dog.
After questioning a few people, they came across a grocer at a bodega, sweeping between his tables of vegetables. “Yeah, I saw her this morning,” he answered. “She went that way.” He indicated the direction with the end of his broom.
“Let’s look for local eateries,” Taid said, grinning.
They went about two blocks, turned the corner, an immediately noticed an odd traffic pattern. Pedestrians were avoiding an area at a cafe a few buildings down the street. As they got closer, they noticed that in the center of the avoided space was a big black dog, and, next to him at the table, was a small Hobbit.
“That’s a fucking big dog,” Almë said. It must have weighed 90kg (200lbs).
“Told ya,” Eykit said.
Ruby was having elevenses at a cafe across the street from the headquarters of Artem, Tennant, and Tricola. Norrie lay on the patio next to the table, a large space around him that none of the other customers or staff wanted to enter. The dog seemed relaxed, but his jaws were big enough to engulf someone’s head, and no one wanted to disturb him.
The building she was watching was a three story brick building, with a large sign spelling out their name over the awning that shaded the ground floor.
Almë pushed Eykit forward, towards Ruby’s table. “Go talk to her, get us a job.”
Eykit glared at him. He didn’t like being pushed. Well, nudged, really. Almë hadn’t met Ruby yet, so him talking would be a bad idea. Actually, him talking ever was a bad idea. He noticed that she wasn’t wearing that beautiful silversilk. She was wearing a blouse of lightly embroidered treesilk, and matching pants. Although, he supposed, she could be wearing it underneath the treesilk clothing.
Hiding it made sense; she already stuck out like splinted leg with that big dog of hers. There was no reason to advertise the fact that she was an Elf-friend as well. Being an Elf-friend wasn’t a bad thing, but displaying the kind of wealth that the silversilk represented would be problematic. It was hotter, adding another layer to the already thick garment, but the increased discomfort was worth it. So far. How did the locals manage to live in this hothouse? She wiped sweat from her brow with a handkerchief.
On the table were several empty plates, with food residue on them. Another plate of fried potatoes sat in front of her, which she was nibbling on. There was a big stein of mead on the table as well.
“Hey!” Eykit said to Ruby, “ol’ buddy ol’ pal!”
Ruby raised an eyebrow. She remembered these people. Well, she didn’t recognize the beanpole Elven man, but she figured that it must be the jailed guy they had mentioned.
“Hey guys, how are you doing?”
“How’s your visit been so far?” Eykit asked, snitching a potato off of her plate. It wasn’t meat, but he chewed it anyway. In fact, there was no evidence of any meat on any of the plates that lay on the table. It seemed to be all vegetables or breads. Vegetables are what my food eats, he thought, still tasting the fried potato he’d snitched. He looked around for a street vendor selling something with meat in it, in case the potato taste didn’t fade away.
“Very good, very good. Just visiting with some friends. Hanging around.” She popped another fried potato into her mouth. She hadn’t seemed to mind that Eykit stole one off her plate. “And the food is excellent! As you can see, I’ve had a little snack.”
“We just happened to be in the neighborhood,” Eykit said. “Let me introduce you to our friend who had been incarcerated under trumped up charges. Everything’s fine now.” He grabbed Almë’s sleeve. “This is Almë. He’s a little impetuous and spontaneous.”
Almë rolled his eyes. “They are exaggerating.”
Taid and Elitheris, behind Almë, both shook their heads at Almë’s disclaimer. No, it wasn’t an exaggeration.
Ruby nodded. The impression she got from him was that he was the rare breed of Elf that wasn’t jovial, and likely didn’t like to dance like other Elves. Probably didn’t sing much, either. In short, kind of a downer.
Actually, Elitheris, whom she’d met earlier, also sort of fit that description, although there was a difference. Elitheris seemed hurt by something, and was suffering some kind of pain. Almë seemed more focused on causing pain. She didn’t get the sense of cruelty from him; he wasn’t a psychopath, as far as she could tell. There was just a kind of underlying anger in him. Perhaps both of the Elves had been hurt, but had different ways of dealing with the pain.
“Ask about a job,” Almë whispered to Eykit.
Eykit kicked Almë in the shin.
Eykit started selling Ruby on how great they were at going out and solving problems, getting the bad guys, and dealing with stressful situations. They seemed to specialize in taking out dangerous cults. They were a great team that could do just about anything.
Ruby saw right through it. She cocked her head, amused at the little man as words tumbled out of his mouth as quickly as he could form them. She figured that the Goblin would be very good selling used wagons.
“Do you have any sneaking skills?”
“Oh, I have sneaking skills!” Eykit said.
Ruby noticed that Mr. Wiggles was wearing armor. A gambeson with chainmail atop it. Interesting, she thought.
“Most of us,” Eykit continued, “have pretty good sneaking skills, except for Taid.” But he wasn’t sure she’d heard him, as she was focused on petting Mr. Wiggles and saying how cute he looked in his chainmail sweater.
Ruby sat down next to the dog, scratching him under his chin while his tongue lolled out. He licked her. She thought he was so cute and little. He weighed 50lbs (22kg)…he wasn’t all that small, unless he was next to the immense mastiff.
Norrie glanced over at her, gave her a look, then put his head back down on his paws with a huff.
“Uh, the dog is good at sneaking, too,” Eykit said, still trying to sell their skills.
That seemed to get Ruby’s attention. “Oh, he is?”
“Yeah, the dog comes as part of the package. He’s actually a very good fighter.”
“Okay.” Ruby turned her attention back onto Eykit. Eykit really wasn’t used to not being the center of attention when he was trying to be. It threw him off his game.
“It’s amazing how much healing we seem to focus on the dog. Instead of ourselves, we’ll jump to heal the dog. Because he’s our buddy. He’s a good boy.”
Ruby brought the conversation back to her original point. “So, you can be stealthy?” She had been expecting a short answer. Eykit didn’t oblige.
“Well, that depends on what you are looking for,” he said. “There are all kinds of stealth. There is a difference between hiding and following someone, for example. And there is a difference between hiding behind some barrels and hiding in a crowd, in plain sight. It really varies depending upon the circumstances. Sneaking into someones house and stealing stuff is very different from following someone without being noticed.”
As a way to make his point, Eykit sneaked his hand into Ruby’s pocket. Ruby, however, was on to him. “You want to lose that hand?” she said to him.
Eykit smiled, shrugged.
“So, not a good thief, then,” Ruby stated.
“My pickpocketing skills are a bit rusty,” he said defensively. “Haven’t really done it since I was just a kid.”
Ruby considered. She really didn’t want to hire them. Her funds weren’t unlimited, but something about their manner told her they were competent. But she did see them as useful. Perhaps they would let her join them? That way, she could get their assistance without having to hire them.
“Maybe I can join your crew,” she offered.
“Are you sure you want to slum with us? We don’t stay on the good side of town. This,” Eykit gestured at the surroundings, “isn’t our kind of people.”
“What kinds of things are you doing right now?”
Almë explained the necromancy experiments that they had found out about, and how they had stopped Herbert Vesten and Lennerd Fountainsmith. He pointedly didn’t mention Nathan. He also admitted that they weren’t really sure where they wanted to go next; they had some clues, but they didn’t exactly know where the other necromancers were. “But we are also desperate for cash.”
“We are mainly supporting ourselves from what we’ve gotten from the dead bodies of the people that we killed,” Eykit explained. “Let’s be honest.”
“You have a home, but it’s not your home right now? What’s the story on that?”
“We’re, uh, working on that,” Almë said.
“Well, talk about looting,” Eykit said. “We looted a whole house. Not the stuff in the house. We looted the entire structure. Such as it is.”
“We were walking by, slipped the house into our pocket, and no one noticed,” Taid quipped.
“We took it, no one complained,” Eykit asserted. “Basically, it’s spoils of war.”
“Yeah,” Taid said, “but to fair, now we have manners.” Well, one Manor.
Eykit kicked Taid in the shins for the bad pun.
Almë knew that the Port Karn Agricultural Council had a vested interest in getting the Vesten lands back up and producing again. Perhaps, if he offered to work on the lands, they might go to bat for him and his friends. Although that would likely involve him joining PKAC. Which didn’t thrill him; they were primarily plant mages, and his wife had been working on a Plant Growth spell variant. What if they were the ones behind her murder?
Almë would have to at least talk to PKAC. It was a big guild. It was also possible that the whole guild hadn’t been in on the murder, and that only a small group within it perpetrated it. In which case, getting into the guild and being able to get information from inside the organization might be useful.
But besides the issue of the Manor, its lands, and its structures, there were still the necromancers to deal with. “We still have some clues, and Lennerd escaped. One of them, Kallia—she seems very dangerous.” Nathan had said that she was the only one of the circle of necromancers than scared him. He felt he could have taken any of the other necromancers, but Kallia he was iffy on.
He went on, “And there were the rumors of the blue babies.”
Ruby made up her mind. “Maybe I do need some help. I can’t explain the details yet. I need someone to observe some people and help me figure out what’s going on. I need some help figuring out who they are and what they are doing. There is a building I need to observe, and maybe have someone go inside and look for some specific people.
“Do you have own or have access to this building?” Eykit asked.
“No, not yet.”
Taid said, “I’m super stealthy.”
Elitheris looked at him. “No you’re not.”
Taid was the person who made everyone else stealthier. By comparison. And by acting as a distraction.
“Maybe,” Ruby said, “you won’t necessarily need to be stealthy. You might just need to be good at talking.”
Eykit’s pointed ears perked up, swiveling to focus on Ruby.
“You guys look like a very diverse group, so it’s likely you have the skill sets I’ll need.” She paused, looking at them one by one. “If you help me, what’s your price?”
“Well, number one,” Eykit said, “do you expect there to be any killing involved?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“How illegal is what we are doing?” Eykit didn’t really care, but he knew Elitheris and Taid did. They were, in general, pretty reluctant to break laws. Almë…Almë probably thought Human laws only applied to ephemerals, and he’d likely outlive the law anyway. But he seemed at least slightly hesitant to wantonly flaunt the law.
“The job that I need you guys to help me figure out is what is going on in that building, over there.” She pointed with a potato over at the building marked “Artem, Tennant, and Tricola”.
The crew glanced over in that direction. They saw a three story office building. With the name of a mage guild plastered across it. An awning provided shade for the sidewalk and first floor. There was also the guild symbol, a blue circle, shaded in such a way as to appear to be a sphere. They also knew that the mage guild focused on Communication and Knowledge spells. Mostly they knew them as the mages who could send messages very quickly, without having to wait for horses, wagons, ships, or even the skyfolk.
Eykit thought about it. “Almë, you know any of those spells?” The Elf shook his head. “Could you be taught those kinds of spells?”
“I suppose,” he answered.
“I wonder if you were interested in training with and/or joining this mage guild?” He smiled at Almë.
“Can you join two mage guilds?”
“I don’t know, but you can at least express interest in them.”
“Daisey Dubrow,” Taid said.
“Oh, yeah. Her.” Eykit replied. “She’s a mage, lives in Port Karn. West side, I think. She’s a member of a couple-three mage guilds, or so I hear.” She was a community organizer, freelancer, and troublemaker. So being a member of multiple guilds was possible, if expensive.
“So,” Almë asked Ruby, “what should I find out again?”
“Just general stuff, who’s in there, what are they doing, the names of people who are in the building. Infiltrate them, and get the information.”
Ruby tried to figure out who the best person to get into the guild would be. She knew Taid was a mage, although based upon the way he carried himself, he was soldier more than mage. His spells were just one of the tools in his toolbox, not the majority of them. Elitheris was a mage, but her skills were rudimentary at best. Almë seemed to be the only real choice.
And judging from what she had been told about Almë and his proclivities, that worried her a little.
“So,” Ruby said, “what do you think? Can you do the job?”
Almë wondered if the mage guild had a members’ roster. If they did, maybe he could steal it. Or at least get a look at it, and remember at least some of the names.
“Okay, I will check them out. Who am I looking for? What do they look like?” Almë asked. “Description, name….”
“Are you looking for someone in particular?” Eykit asked. So far, the job, as described, was very ambiguous. He was no stranger to doing jobs for unknown motives, but so far, he didn’t feel like they had enough information about what the job was to have much of a chance of being successful at it.
“Maybe. I just want to know—“
“If we’re going to work for you, we’re going to need more specifics than ethereal people.”
“Yeah,” Almë said, “What should I memorize if I go in there and ask for stuff?”
Eykit wasn’t done. “It feels like you’re being evasive.” He held up his fingers in a pinching motion. “Just a little bit.” He knew Almë thought he could do the job, but Eykit had done enough casing and observing jobs to know that Almë didn’t know what he didn’t know. And that would immediately get him into trouble.
“Okay,” Ruby said, acknowledging the point that if Almë was to be successful, he had to have at least some idea what the victory conditions were. In order to hit a target, you had to have some idea where the target was, and that there was a target there. “The information to focus on is the important people there: the VIPs, anyone they may be hiding, or anything else suspicious going on there. They say their business is communications magic and knowledge magic. Anything outside of that might be considered suspicious.”
“You think they have somebody held prisoner?” Eykit asked. That could be worrisome.
“No, I don’t know. Just look around and see if there is anything obviously suspicious.”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” Almë said.
“So, what’s your price?” she asked.
“$50 a day, depending upon how long this takes. Sounds pretty simple to me.”
$50 seemed a bit steep to Ruby. “Make it $20.”
“Thirty.”
“No.”
Almë was a bit surprised. “Maybe I should just do it for free!” He wasn’t serious, of course.
“No, we’ll keep it at twenty.” The sarcasm had gone way over her head. “Take it or leave it. If you find something, I promise I have more things for you to do. And maybe I can help you get that Manor. No guarantees. After all, I’m not known here. But I might have some connections.”
Almë was already going, walking across the street, weaving through the people going about their business. He was going to be pretending he was interested in joining the mage guild, but wanted a tour first. He’d already been to the Sentinel Group, and they had given him one. Perhaps he would tell them he was done with Plant magics, and wanted to do something different.
Almë entered the building. It was a small lobby office, with a guy behind a desk. He appeared bored, and his feet were on his desk. At least he was comfortable, Almë supposed.
There were two doors, one on either side of the room on the back wall.
The man started when Almë walked in, hurriedly putting his shoes back on the floor where they belonged. “Oh. Hello! What can I do for you?” According to the nameplate on the desk, his name was Mick.
“I am Almë, a plant mage. But I’m done being a plant mage. The hours are long and filled with a lot of casting. And I’d like something new. First I went to the Sentinel Group, but their main jobs are as bodyguards and security. I was in the military long enough to know that I don’t want to do the same shit, just with a different employer. So, I’d like to join your guild and take a job here.”
“Really?”
“Well, yeah. Really.”
“What do you know already?”
“Not much, to be honest.”
“Ahh. So we would need to train you first before you could start generating any revenue.”
“But I’m really smart and a quick learner.”
Mick looked him up and down. “So, you want to join this particular mage guild, huh? Right. Let me go get somebody.”
He tapped a bell on his desk, causing it to ring loudly in the small room. Then he put his feet back up on his desk, leaning back in his chair.
There were a couple of chairs against the front wall, obviously seating for customers if they had to wait. Almë sat in the one closest to Mick’s desk. He didn’t have to wait long.
The door on the left opened, and a man walked out. “Hey, Mick! What’s up?” He saw Almë. “Who are you?”
Almë introduced himself to the newcomer, and told him the same story he had told to Mick about why he was there.
Mick spoke up. “Yah, he seems to want to join us for some reason. Don’t really know why.”
“Alright, well, um, I’m Godric. Nice to meet you Almë.”
“Nice to meet you too, Godric.”
“Come with me. I’ll take you back to the testing chambers and we can see what you can do.” He led him back into the building, where he put him in a conference room.
He sat across from Almë at the table. “So, you’re a mage. What can you do? What spells do you know? What is your past?” He pulled out a tablet and a pencil, prepared to take notes.
“I can rain lots of nuts.”
Godric dutifully wrote that down on his tablet. “You can rain a lot of nuts. Got it.”
Almë told him about his other spells, running through his list of known spells, including the few Earth spells and Body Control spells that he knew. He also mentioned that he had just learned the spell of Haste.
Godric summed it up. “So, you know Plant spells, a couple Earth spells, some Body Control spells, and Haste. Anything else?”
Almë shook his head.
“And you want to join us to do what, exactly? We are primarily Communication and Empathy, and Knowledge spells. Is that something you are actually interested in?”
“Yeah.”
“You want to sit there and send messages for people. Find people’s lost items?”
“Obviously.”
“Okay.”
“I also was a bit of a detective in my hometown.”
“Really? Tell me about that.”
“I had a private investigation company, just two of us. Myself, and a friend of mine.”
Godric sensed some untruths in there. He didn’t seem very convinced about Almë’s detective work. “I see,” he said, noncommittally.
“To be honest, it took us a long time to find stuff, but we’re Elves, so it didn’t matter.”
“An investigation firm, huh? What did you really do in this Elf town of yours?”
“I planted lots of plants, and I grew buildings.”
“Good. That seems more along the lines of your skill set.”
“Yeah, but I’m really tired of that shit. That’s why I left my town, I’m done watching grass grow. It’s boring.”
“Alright. You want to join us?”
“Yes, but I want to get to know you a bit before I sign anything.”
“Fair enough. I can at least show you around.”
Godric gave him the tour. The first floor was comprised of meeting rooms, personal offices, and the lobby. The meeting rooms were all of a type, three meters on a side, with an oblong table and six chairs around it. This was where mages would meet with clients, and do whatever the client paid for.
They went up the stairs to the second floor. There were a couple of appointed office spaces, with couches and desks. Almë could see people sitting in the chairs and laying on the couches, apparently concentrating on something. Godric mentioned that the second floor was primarily where the communications and object seeking happened.
He pointed out a few mages, and told Almë their names: “That’s Alan, and over there is Violet, and that guy is Feka’ini”. Godric didn’t bother giving him their last names. Almë could see that they were deep in thought, concentrating on something.
Godric pointed out a few more people—mages, as it turned out. “That one,” he said, indicating a woman in a blue dress and studying her for a few seconds, “is sending a message.” He indicated another one, “that one is, uh, oh! That one is looking for a lost item. Apparently someone has lost somebody, and he is looking for a missing person.” He pointed out a third one, “That one is receiving a communication from one of our other offices in another city. Don’t know which one.”
“How many hours do they do this per day?” asked Almë.
“Anywhere between eight and ten. Depending upon what needs to be done. The ones that are more specialized into finding lost items and people…that is a full investigation and that’s an ongoing thing. Hours can get quite long on those, especially if the case is time limited, like a kidnapping. It wouldn’t do to find a missing person only after they died.”
Almë was finding it hard to seem interested. His gardener job was way more interesting than sitting in a room repeating what someone else said and writing it down, or doing whatever those investigators were doing with the missing persons. Almë really didn’t want to sit in a chair all day.
Eykit, at the cafe across the street with everyone else, paced. Every now and then he’d look at the building across the street. “This was a terrible idea sending Almë in there,” he muttered, “for something that takes an attention span of more than two minutes!”
“Maybe he’ll find something interesting,” Ruby commented.
“We can only hope!” He gave her a look that said, “I’m sorry for whatever Almë did in there.”
While they waited for Almë, everyone ate, even Ruby (again). Eykit was fascinated at how much the Hobbit could eat. It was like magic, how much food disappeared down her gullet. He even bought her a dish of roasted root vegetables, just to watch her eat it. He had originally offered to get her a meat dish, but she declined, saying that she preferred vegetables.
He’d grown up with Hobbits, and he knew they ate a lot, but Ruby was something else. Of course, the Hobbits he grew up with had also been living on the street, and were, in general, poor. So they didn’t have much more access to food than he did, so they tended to be slimmer and, while they tried to stick to their increased meal frequency, also tended to eat less at each meal.
Ruby had no limitations like that. She was obviously wealthy enough to have never felt starvation lurking around the next corner. So food had never been scarce for her.
Eykit was also trying to figure out a way to set up a betting pool on her eating capacity. “Gods! Do you ever get full?”
“No,” Ruby replied.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He froze, his eyes wide, then looked over his shoulder. It was a City Guardsman. He had been so focused on the entertainment of watching Ruby eat and eat that he hadn’t been alert enough to notice the guardsmen walking up.
“Eykit!” the City Guardsman said. “It’s been a long time!”
Eykit knew him. It was Brannoc. They had a history. Brannoc had been trying to arrest Eykit for a while, but had never managed to do it. He was, Eykit had to admit, one of the better ones. He didn’t seem to abuse the privilege of power he had in the Guard, and he seemed honest enough. But that didn’t mean that Eykit had any intention of getting caught by him if he could help it.
“Not long enough,” Eykit replied.
“You’re coming with us!” Brannoc commanded. He was accompanied by his partner, a woman named Jerri. Both were Human, and were wearing the the quartered blue and cream gambeson uniforms of the City Guard, although Brannoc had a mail shirt over it. His partner wore blue and cream linothorax over hers. It was stiffer, not as supple, but much lighter than mail and provided good protection. Both were armed with spears and sidearms.
Brannoc pulled Eykit out of the chair. “Come on, scamp.” He reached for his shackles.
“What’s this about? I’ve been a good boy!”
Brannoc chuckled and said, “Nah, no, you haven’t, Eykit. You’re not called ‘Eykit the Eel’ for nothing. You’re coming with us.”
Eykit’s eyes darted to Brannoc’s partner. She smirked at him. The guardsman was pulling the Goblin from the table, propelling him by his hand on his shoulder.
“What? What’s going on here? I’ve got witnesses!”
“What is going on here?” Ruby asked.
“Oh, Eykit’s a well-known criminal,” the male guardsman said. “So we are taking him in for questioning.”
“What did he do?”
“What hasn’t he done?” Jerri, the female guard said.
“What am I being arrested for?” Eykit asked frantically.
Brannoc looked down at his prisoner. “Theft, breaking and entering, assault, battery, trespass…”
“What? Nothing recently!”
“Who said anything about recently? We’ve been wanting you for a looong time! You are coming with us.”
“I’ve been rehabilitated!”
They didn’t seem to want to listen. Ruby called for them to stop.
The two city guardsmen paused. “Who are you?” Brannoc asked.
“I’m Ruby Smallburrow.”
Brannoc looked at Jerri. She shrugged. He turned back to the Hobbit. “Never heard of you.” He continued moving down the street with Eykit.
Ruby whistled, and Norolind stood up, an immense wall of black fur and muscle. She considered casting some mind magics on the two guards. False Memory should do, she thought, and began the casting process. It would take several seconds.
Eykit was still unshackled, but had Brannoc’s hand on his shoulder, propelling him down the street. He ducked and twisted out of the guard’s grip. He bolted, weaving through the crowd on the street. Brannoc shouted behind him.
His eyes scanned the surroundings. He could see an open window up ahead; a partially built building surrounded by scaffolding, and on the other side of the street was a wagon being loaded by workers. The horses tied to its traces took up the majority of the space in the street, and people were having to walk around the obstruction. They were parked outside of a ceramics shop, so the crates being loaded into the back of the wagon were likely plates or mugs or vases or some such. The crates were all about the same size, so whatever was in them was probably sets of some common item.
The construction site was his best bet to get away from Brannoc, who, despite is momentary surprise at Eykit’s worming out of his grip, was following close behind.
The scaffold at the front face of the building was three stories high, make of bamboo poles and wooden planks, tied together with lashings. The building was in the framing stage; the cladding hadn’t yet been put on. The walls were mostly air, with gaps large enough for him to jump through between the studs. The foundation was about a meter high, forming the lower part of the wall on the first floor.
“Come back here, you scamp!” Brannoc shouted as he ran after the fleeing Goblin.
Eykit approached the scaffold at a run. He was wishing he hadn’t worn his mail shirt, which was really slowing him down. He looked for something low that he could scramble under, using the Human’s size against him. There wasn’t really anything low; but there was the wooden members built onto the stone foundation that he could leap through.
He jumped up, diving through the gap between the timbers, and came down onto the debris-strewn wood flooring. He rolled over some timber offcuts, wincing as he did so. Those will leave bruises, he thought.
Brannoc swore as he leaped up onto the ledge formed by the foundation stone, and squirmed through the timbers. His sidearm got hung up on the board, and he had to adjust it before he could make it through the gap. He fell through, landing and sliding down a small pile of bricks with an “Ooof!” He had already tossed his spear to his companion, Jerri, who followed as best she could. She didn’t move nearly as fast as he could, though.
Brannoc prided himself on his speed. He was fast. Certainly faster than the little punk he was chasing.
Eykit glanced back at his pursuer, getting a read on how far back he was. Brannoc could run faster than he could. It was only a quick glance, and the Goblin took off running again.
Brannoc was getting up.
Eykit ran through the construction site. Up ahead he saw a group of people—a family. There was also a big pile of crates on the far side of the construction zone. It was piled up high enough for Eykit to reach the second floor.
He went for the pile of crates, scrambling up the stacked crates. They didn’t move much when he clambered over him; a part of his brain registered that they were likely filled with bricks or mortar of some other heavy material.
He stood on the top crate, grabbed the floor beam above his head, and chinned up to the second floor. He got to his feet, and ran.
Climbing up those boxes had slowed Eykit a bit; Brannoc was closing the distance. Damn, that guy can run! Eykit thought worriedly.
Eykit was beginning to breathe heavily. Brannoc started climbing the crates, but Eykit didn’t stick around to watch.
He could see a pile of hay bales stacked in the alley next to the construction site, possibly used for fodder or to keep the mud of the site under control. It might make a softer place to land if he were to jump down from the second floor. He could also see a planter box next to the building nearby that he could use for cover. On the other side of the street was a group of barrels, laid on their sides in racks.
Eykit leapt to the hay bales, and he rolled down the steep stepped slope of packed hay, but staggered as he got up, and Brannoc was approaching quickly.
Eykit tried to put on more speed, cursing his stubby little legs. Up ahead was another scaffold in front of a building, extending all the way to the top of the roof. This building wasn’t under construction though; it was likely cleaning or repair. He could see workers on several levels doing complicated things with tools. There was also a doorway he could duck into, if the door was unlocked.
Eykit made for the scaffold, leaping up and grabbing the rungs of the ladder, scrambling up the rest of the way to the second level of the scaffold.
Brannoc slammed into the ladder, grabbing it and starting to climb after Eykit. “I’m going to get you, Eel! You slippery bastard! I’ll see you in a cell!”
Eykit looked for a way into the building. He saw four to choose from on the second floor. He slipped into the third one, and heard Brannoc hit the boards of the scaffold level. Eykit was in a room, a door at the far end, leading to a hallway. He ran through the room, through the door, turned left. It went about ten meters, doors on either side, with a stairway at the end going down.
He could hear a loud noise behind him; Brannoc had apparently taken a different window, but it didn’t really matter. The rooms all opened up on the same hallway.
Eykit got to the end, and the stairway. Now he could see the flight going up as well as down. He went up. As he did, he saw Brannoc pile through a doorway and slam into the wall.
“Ah hah!” he said. “I see you! Stop right there!” He charged down the hallway after Eykit.
Eykit didn’t listen, and ran up the stairs. He heard a “Whah!” followed by a loud crashing noise. Brannoc had apparently slipped on something, or lost his footing in some other way, and had fallen to the hardwood floor.
The Goblin bolted the rest of the way upstairs. He ran down the third floor hallway, looking for an unlocked door and an open window. He wanted out of the building, preferably before Brannoc could recover.
On his third try, he found a room and window he could use to get back out to the scaffolding.
He could hear grumbling and thumping up the stairs. Then he was on the scaffold, and went down, through the face of the scaffold, hanging from the horizontal bamboo pole that helped support the scaffold boards. He swung his legs out to get some momentum, then as they swung in again, he dropped to the second level of the scaffold.
He looked for the other guard. He could see her a few buildings down, scanning the crowd, looking for him. She hadn’t seen him yet. He ran to the end away from her, grabbing at the side of the ladder with one hand and swinging around, pivoting around the ladder to face it. With both feet on the outsides of the ladder, he slid down quickly. He wanted to lose himself in the crowd before he was spotted by either of the two city guardsmen.
When he hit the ground, he could hear Brannoc hit the top level of the scaffold above him. He could see a drunk man passed out and snoring on the street ahead of him. He leapt over him. There were some tall hedges just past the drunkard, and he could also see an open window in the next building that he could jump into.
The window it was. Eykit found himself sliding off of a table with folded shirts on it; he had just jumped into a clothing and tailoring shop. He got up, rumpled clothes all around his feet, and scanned the room. Some more tables with various items of clothing on them, and a couple of racks where clothes hung. On one side of the one-room shop were three small booths for trying on clothes.
He picked up one of the wads of cloth at his feet. “I’d like to try this on,” he said. The shopkeeper just stared at him, then pointed to one of the changing rooms.
“Thanks!” He made his way to it and entered. There was a bench to sit on, and a hook on the wall. A large, polished steel mirror hung on one wall. Years of use by patrons had left it a bit scratched and not nearly as reflective as a glass and silver mirror would have been, but it was a lot cheaper.
He pulled out his darkness strip, then slid under the bench, arranging the strip in front of him as cover.
He waited. After a few minutes, he heard voices. It sounded like Brannoc. “Sir, I am looking for a Goblin. Have you seen one in the last few minutes?”
“No, haven’t seen any Goblins come in for hours.”
A few seconds later, Brannoc said, “Well, if you do see a young male Goblin, please let the Guard know. He’s wanted for questioning.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eykit could hear the guards leave. He peeked out of the changing room. He didn’t see the guards. But he did see the proprietor with a smirk on his face.
He emerged. “I think I would like to purchase something,” he told the man. Eykit still held the clothing he had grabbed; he hadn’t even looked at it until now. It was a Human-sized tunic, cut for a woman’s body. If Eykit wore it, it would look like a big, baggy dress.
“This didn’t actually work for me. You have anything else, like something with a hood?”
“I’ve got just the thing.” He smiled, and went to a different table than the one Eykit had messed up, and pulled a piece of clothing off of it. He flicked his wrists, and it unfolded, hanging in front of him.
It was a deep brown tunic, about thigh length on Eykit, with an integral hood.
“Excellent!” Eykit said. “How much?”
“15 marks.”
“I’ll take it! The service you have provided has been exemplary.”
The Human nodded.
The Goblin gave him 20 marks. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.” He put on his new tunic, flipping up the hood. His mail shirt was now covered, as was his head. He’d be hot, and sweating, but it was better than being recognized.
He peeked his head out of the shop, looking to see where the guards were. Farther down the street he could see them, running from store to store, questioning the shopkeepers and looking for the escaped Goblin rogue. Eykit could see that Brannoc was indeed a fast runner, and he kept leaving his female companion in the dust as she struggled to keep up with him.
He turned back towards his friends.
“What was all that about?” Taid asked.
“I’ll meet you all back at the inn. I’m uh, I’m out.”
“Wait,” Taid said. “Perhaps we can go back to Ruby’s inn instead and discuss our plan.”
“You mean where she is staying? Alright, we can do that.”
Ruby spoke up. “It makes more sense than you going all the way back to your territory.”
“I need to maintain a low profile, because clearly I am being sought.”
In the meantime, while waiting for Almë to do his thing, he found an out-of-the-way table and sat there, paying close attention to the passersby on the street. He didn’t want to be surprised again.
Godric hadn’t really noticed Almë’s lack of interest. He went on with the tour, taking Almë upstairs to the third floor, and through a door that had, written on a plaque, “Divinations”. “Then there are the divinations. That will depend upon the style of divination is used.” They were in a hallway, with doors on either side.
He opened a door. “This room is for the diviners who use Tarot cards.” It was a largish room, with many tables, each with a single chair. One end of the room had a glass-fronted case, filled with decks of cards.
The next room was the one for diviners who utilize dreams. It had several beds, with drapes around them for a modicum of privacy. There were no people currently in any of the beds. Godric chuckled. “This is more my speed. Sleeping and solving problems.”
He took Almë to the next room. This one had braziers, and tubs of water, and, in once corner, a small furnace. Hot air blew out into the hallway, and someone was in there staring at the flames in a brazier. “This room is where the fire-gazers and lecanomancers do their work.”
“Lecanomancers? What’s that?” Almë hadn’t heard the term before.
“Dropping things into water. In this room, molten metal. Although the term also refers to tea leaf reading.”
Almë nodded.
“There are other rooms that have space and equipment for rune-casting, tossing sticks or bones, and we even have a crystal ball.” The whole top floor was the divination department.
There had been a few rooms on the lower floors that had clients in them; Godric had just closed the door immediately when he saw them and didn’t talk about them. Client services were confidential.
“So,” Godric asked, “still interested?” He suspected that the Elf wasn’t, but one never really knew.
Almë sighed. “Some of it sounds really good, but let me think about it.”
“Yeah, I thought so. You started to glaze over on some of this stuff. It’s fine. If you weren’t fully invested, we wouldn’t want to spend the money training you up anyway.”
He led Almë back downstairs to the lobby. “Thank you for dropping by. Keep us in mind if you are interested in doing this kind of thing, because we could always use people to find lost items.”
“And sleep.”
“Well, yeah, if you’re the type that likes to dream a lot.”
Almë left the lobby, emerging back into the midday sunlight. He moved across the street and down to the cafe where his friends waited. He was smiling.
“Yeah, I found your guy!” A pause. “Not so much, sorry. There was nobody really there, just a few people like Mick, Godric, Alan, Violet, and Feka’ini. There were others, but they were with clients, and I wasn’t able to get any info about them.” He went on to explain the layout of the offices and floors.
“Well,” Eykit said, “Almë’s still alive, so that’s good. And not under arrest.”
“So were there any guild officers around?” Ruby asked.
“Maybe, behind closed doors. Godric didn’t show me every room. There was an entire hallway that I wasn’t shown. It was on the first floor. It’s likely that those might be the offices of the guild leaders.”
Almë put his hand out, palm up. “Twenty marks, please.”
Ruby gave him his payment. It had taken Almë about three quarters of an hour to reconnoiter the guild office of Artem, Tennant, and Tricola.
“So, that’s taken care of,” Almë said. “Want to join us? Save some babies, or go after Kallia?”
“No, no,” Ruby replied. “I don’t have time for that right now. I need to check this town and especially this building for something I am looking for.”
“What do you suspect about this building?” Almë asked.
“I’m looking for someone. A lost friend.”
“A lost friend? Well, there were people in there trying to find missing people.”
“No, I think he would be inside there. No need for them to try and trace him.”
Almë indicated Eykit. “Should we send him in, at night?”
“Yeah, we should wait until the building is closed for business.”
Eykit had had enough. He stood, came over to them, and said, “Let’s go to Ruby’s place.”
The inn Ruby was staying in wasn’t too far away, only about three short blocks. The Royal Eagle Inn was much nicer than the Inn on Drefeg’s Street. Or at least Ruby’s room was. Her room had its own bathing room, complete with a large tub. Not to mention, she had it to herself. She wasn’t sleeping with any other patrons. Bad for networking, but good for sleeping. Which was why, occasionally, she slept in a common room. Sometimes it was useful to chat up your bedmate.
The inn was a large structure, four stories of stone masonry, with a shallowly sloped tile roof. It must have had at least twenty rooms, ranging from common rooms on the lower two floors to private rooms and suites on the upper floors. One half of the bottom floor was an integral tavern, the other half was split between a large common room and lobby, and the innkeeper’s quarters. It was large enough to have a staff of over a dozen people. Its prices must have been somewhere upwards of twenty marks a night just for a space in a common bed shared with two others.
Ruby’s room cost her 120 marks a night. But it included a Human sized breakfast. Ruby had to pay extra for Hobbit portions.
She hadn’t bothered with a suite. Just a room, with the attached bath. Norrie lay on his side on a throw rug at the base of the soft bed. It was tall enough that even Humans required a step stool to get into it.
There was also a table and chair in the room. Taid sat in the chair; Eykit sat crosslegged on the floor, as did Elitheris. Almë leaned against the doorframe to the bathing room. Ruby perched herself on her bed, sitting up straight. The only person taller than her was the skinny, stretched-looking Elf. That boy needs to be fattened up, she mused. Force feeding him beans, potatoes, and bread and butter should do it.
They discussed their plan for moving forward.
“I say we wait for night,” Almë said. “Then send Eykit in. But he needs more details about who he should be looking for.” He turned to Ruby. “He’ll need a description of the person. He can’t just abduct random people out of that place.”
“Is there usually anyone in these guild buildings at night?” Eykit asked. He wasn’t fully on board with the whole abduction thing. No one had said anything about abducting people.
“Some of the investigators might, if they are busy on a case,” Almë answered, remembering what Godric had said about working hours.
Ruby wasn’t sure about her new allies. She felt she could trust Taid to do the right thing, but not to keep a secret. She thought that Elitheris could be trusted, after all, she was already harboring secrets, and likely had been for more years than Ruby had been alive. She wasn’t certain about Almë. And Eykit seemed really nice, and she wanted to trust him. It was almost an urge, actually. But the little voice in the back of her mind was saying “No.” She didn’t want him near anything of hers that was valuable. He had sticky fingers.
She decided to tell them some of the things she knew about her quarry. Ruby said, “I’m looking for a guy. He is the guildmaster of the mage guild Almë went into today. And he’s owes me money, and he’s likely done some other bad things, and I want to bring him back to Adayn.”
“What’s he look like? What’s his name?” Almë asked.
“His name is Zorion Clemens. I don’t know exactly what he looks like. I know he is Human, though, and is tall and has blonde hair. Middle aged.”
“How long have you been looking for this guy?” Taid asked.
“And did you want us to find him, or kill him?” Almë asked Ruby, not remembering that she had just said that she wanted to bring him back to Adayn. Although, in Almë’s defense, she didn’t specify alive or dead….
“How sure are we that he is here?” Eykit asked. “She’s been looking all over the Empire!” He turned to the Hobbit. “How sure are you?”
“I’m not sure,” Ruby answered, “that’s why I had Almë go in and observe it, but he didn’t find anything. But maybe he’s there.”
“Fifty-fifty shot,” Eykit muttered. “At best.”
“Maybe yes, maybe I have to go to another city to look for him. But it’s a good chance he’s in there. But I’m not sure.”
“Okay. Alright, so: blonde, middle aged, tall, but otherwise looks like any other Human.” He sighed. “All Humans look alike. They are all just crotches to me.”
Taid laughed. “Crotches with people attached to them!”
“Hey, as long as I can hit them in the wee-wee, it’s all good. I hate to say it, but odds are small that if I get into a fight with this guy he’ll come out of it with both balls intact.”
“No, you just have to find him. If you find someone like him, then I will talk to him. Just let me know.”
“Okay.” Eykit didn’t really want to take on a mage guildmaster anyway. He didn’t know what kinds of spells the guy had, but it’s possible he could be communicated to death for all he knew.
“Do you want me to make contact with this guy?”
“Not at all. Don’t touch him, don’t talk to him.”
“Just identify him and get the hell out,” Elitheris, quiet until now, stated.
“Just let me know where he is, and what he is doing,” Ruby said reassuringly.
Eykit considered. He was thinking about courier gear, and trying to remember what couriers wore. They were everywhere, and part of the background that he rarely paid attention to. But he knew they usually had satchels, and a badge of some kind. He’d might be able to get them from his own guild. And if they didn’t already have it, they would likely be able to get some.
“If all I have to do is ascertain whether or not he’s there,” Eykit said, “I should be able to do that without a lot of sneaking. I can just say that I have a message for Zorion Clemens.”
Ruby shook her head. “No, he’s a pretty secretive guy, for a guildmaster. Private. His underlings usually run interference for him, always saying that he’s busy, or at a different guild hall. Part of that might be because he owes me a lot of money, and is avoiding letting people know where he is.”
Zorion Clemens, being a guildmaster of one of the larger mage guilds, was rich. He played by a different set of rules than they did. So he was able to basically ignore anyone of lesser status. Rich thieves could get away with almost anything. Poor thieves went to jail, got sent to work camps, or were executed.
“He is a guild leader, so he has many political friends,” Ruby said. “Friends that will cover for him, if needs be. They will protect him.”
She paused, thinking. “When you go in there, watch out for trap doors, hidden doors, and stuff like that.”
“My question is, once I go in there, because they have knowledge in divination, will they have alarms? Won’t they know I’m coming? Like, ‘there is someone here, that doesn’t belong!’”
It was possible, but divination really only works if the diviner knows what the question is. If they haven’t asked if they are going to be infiltrated, they likely wouldn’t have foreseen it happening. Plus, divinations could be rather ambiguous.
But, if they found out that someone was trespassing, they had the assets with with to discover who it was, where they currently were, and when the best time to take them out would be. Seeker and Trace were two very common Knowledge spells. The first found things. The second kept track of it, once it was found.
Eykit knew of both of these spells. It was why he had a little box called an ‘impression blocker’. Things placed in the box couldn’t be found by a Seeker spell; for all intents and purposes, they didn’t exist as long as they were hidden within the container. But Eykit himself couldn’t fit in one. So he would have to be careful.
He also knew that Seeker was a spell usable on a subject only once an eightday. Trace could really only be used for things that you knew the location of, after which the item could be tracked by following a magical “pull”. Much like how a compass follows the North Pole.
There was no use dawdling and wasting time. Eykit headed back to Artem, Tennant, and Tricola’s guild headquarters. He had waited until the 17th bell, an hour before midnight. He stood in the shadows of the building next door.
The windows on the ground floor were all barred. He wouldn’t be getting in that way. The upper windows were likely locked, but they weren’t barred. He could see lights in some of them. It was likely the investigators working on those cases Almë mentioned, or perhaps late night romantic message sendings.
He was going to have to climb.
Ruby and Norolind parked themselves at the cafe, even though it was closed, Ruby in a chair, and Norrie at her feet.
Almë made his way up onto the rooftop of the cafe, for a better vantage point. He laid down on the sloped, tiled roof, only his head above the ridge of the roofline. Even Almë knew when not to be obvious.
Elitheris and Taid sat at the table with Ruby, Mr. Wiggles lying next to the larger mastiff, his nose on his paws.
There was traffic on the street. It was near midnight, which meant that almost all of the people in the street were Orcs or Goblins, working the night shifts. The Port Karn economy worked twenty four hours a day. While there were people in the street going about their business, it was only about 30% as crowded as it was during the day. This lessening of the crowds allowed carts and wagons to be used much more easily. Every once in a while, a wagon, drawn by two or four horses, would clatter past.
By unspoken agreement, the Orcs and Goblins on the street spoke in hushed voices, and refrained from shouting. Ruby hadn’t really noticed, but now that she thought about it, even during the day, the streets weren’t as noisy as those in Adayn. Now she understood why. The day-walkers kept their voices down, too, in deference to the day-sleepers. After all, no one wanted bad tempered Orcs to be cranky from lack of sleep!
They could see a small shape climb up to the second floor, hanging on to the windowsill. Eykit pulled himself up a bit, bracing his feet on the top trim of a first floor window. He could just reach the locking mechanism of the window. All he had to do now was jimmy the lock.
The lock wasn’t terribly complicated, and although Eykit had a bit of trouble trying to get it open, he succeeded in levering the locking mechanism out of its seat, freeing the operating panel of the window. He slowly slid the window up, trying to keep the noise he was making to a minimum. He noticed that the window needed waxing as it bound up in places as it moved jerkily up.
The room was one of the investigation offices that Almë had described. There was a table in the middle of the room, and a couple of desks with chairs against the walls. A series of filing cabinets were set against another wall.
It was dark, and empty, but Eykit could see well enough using the moonlight reflecting off of the brick wall of the adjacent building. A Human would have trouble navigating in the dark room, but Goblins were nocturnal by nature. Not quite to the same level as Orcs, but they did quite well at night, and had little trouble getting around in dim light.
He crept to the door, cracked it open, and peered into the unlit hallway. There were doors flanking both sides of the corridor; all were dark except for the one that was slightly ajar. Light shone from beyond it. Eykit’s ears picked up soft, pencil on paper scritching noises.
At the end of the hallway was a staircase, a flight going up, and one going down. It was the first floor that Almë said had the offices that he hadn’t been shown. He crept down the hallway towards the staircase. On the way, he peeked in through the slightly open door into the lit room.
There was a woman there, seated at a desk, mostly writing. She would often consult something on the table next to her, then stare off into the distance, mumbling and contorting her fingers into various shapes.
To Eykit, it looked more boring than accounting. He hated accounting. It was just rows and rows of numbers, with an overabundant annoyance of necessary accuracy.
He moved down the stairs, stepping on the edges of the stairs nearest the wall to minimize any squeaking. According to Almë’s description, there were four offices that hadn’t been acknowledged, and they seemed to be the ones at the far end of the hall.
Like the hallway upstairs, this one was unlit. However, there was an open door, and light shone from that room. Eykit, before climbing up and entering through the second story window, had walked around the building, casing the joint to get a sense of the layout. The open door was the entrance to the lobby.
He could hear someone rustling around at the front desk. He made it to the open doorway without being heard. Glancing inside, he could see a Human sitting at the desk, doing some kind of paperwork that was causing him some frustration, because he was grumbling to himself about it.
The guy was distracted, so Eykit didn’t have any problem getting past the open doorway without being discovered. Now that he was closer to the four offices and past the light being shed by the lobby, he could see that two of them, the ones at the end of the hall, had lights lit, the soft glow shining from under the doors.
From the rooftop, Almë could see lantern-bearing city guardsmen, making the rounds, and keeping the peace; one and Orc, the other a Goblin.
They didn’t seem at all aware that a particular building had a sneak thief in it. As they passed the cafe, they nodded to the people seated there, wary of the dogs. Almë suspected that they didn’t even see Mr. Wiggles laying next to Norolind. They passed without incident. He was sure that if Eykit had been there, they might have caused some trouble if they had recognized him.
The miscreant in question moved up to the first door on the right in the hallway. It was unlit, but he tested the doorknob anyway. It was locked. So was the one across from it.
He moved to the two doors with lit rooms. Both of those were locked as well, which he found out after very carefully and quietly trying to open them. He went back to one of the darkened rooms, and picked the lock. He quietly opened the door and slid inside, closing the door behind him and locking it.
It was a room about five by three meters in size. There were bookshelves along one solid wall, filled with books. A large desk with a comfortable looking chair was placed in one corner, set at an angle so that anyone in the chair would be able to see the whole room. There were a couple of chairs in front of the desk, likely for visitors. Against a wall was a side table, with crystal decanters filled with what Eykit assumed were some alcoholic drinks, mostly of the amber to brown colored variety.
He poured himself a drink and tossed it down in a single gulp. It was some high quality stuff; a brandy of some kind.
It was a nicer office than what Eykit’s guildmaster, Toren Ghent, had. This was an executive-level office. Even in the dim light filtering through the barred window, Eykit could see that the furniture was beautifully styled, and matching. Even the bookcase had decorative scrollwork along the shelf edges. Mages made good livings, and the high mucky mucks in the guilds made even better ones.
There was an annoying lack of pocket-sized decorative art. The best Eykit could do was take one of the cut crystal glasses from the side table. It would fetch at least thirty marks, by his estimation. Besides, he’d drunk out of it. It would have been rude to leave a dirty glass on the table….
There was a nameplate on the desk. It read “Zorion Clemens”. Otherwise, the desk was empty save for a leather blotter and a Dwarfclock. Eykit knew that if Zorion was here, this is the desk he’d use. He eyed that Dwarfclock. It was a wooden box about 20cm tall, 20cm wide, and 10cm deep. The face marked out the six segments, or “sixths”, and each sixth had four hour markings. Sixty marks surrounded the clock face in a circle, denoting the minutes of each hour. It was nearing the 18th bell.
The bell towers didn’t ring the bell 18 times. Midnight happened in the middle of the fifth “sixth”. So it ran the last full sixth first, four quick bongs, followed by two slower ones, since midnight happened after the second hour of the fifth sixth.
He’d seen these kinds of timekeeping devices a few times in shops, but this was the first time he’d been able to examine one up close. They were rare, imported from the Dwarven Undercities, and very expensive. This one had minimal decorations; unlike Elven goods, which were universally elaborately decorated, Dwarven designs were much more austere. Clean lines and geometric precision were more their style. And based upon the two chimes, it appeared as if the sixths were rung with one chime, and the hours with the other.
Eykit contemplated stealing it. He even lifted it, testing its weight. Wasn’t terribly heavy, but it was heavier than it looked, being filled with metal gearing and counterweights and whatever else the Dwarves thought necessary inside. He put it back. Yes, it was worth a lot, but it was also pretty bulky. Besides, in a few minutes, it would start bingbonging and making a racket. He didn’t need that.
The window opened out onto the street at the front of the building. Eykit could see his companions across the street at the darkened cafe, sitting at one of their outdoor tables. He contemplated going out the window, but the window was barred.
He ran his finger along the top of the desk. Smooth, varnished wood, with a slight layer of dust.
So it was back out the way he came. He opened the door quietly, checking the hallway to ensure it was empty. He closed the door, locked it using his lock picks, then quietly moved down the hallway towards the stairs. As he made his way down the hallway, he could hear, faintly, four quick high pitched dings, followed by a pair of lower pitched ones. The clock had rung the 18th bell.
He passed the lobby, and went up the stairs. So far, no one had noticed he was there. He went down the hallway to the room he came in from. Then he climbed down from the window. He wanted out before any of the mages discovered him.
He took a roundabout route back to the cafe across the street. No need to be visible crossing the street from the mage guild building.
“Found his fancy schmancy office. He wasn’t there. He’s an executive, and probably only works a few hours a day.”
“But at least you know he’s there, now,” Taid said.
“This is where he works, obviously,” Eykit said.
“He has offices in many, if not all, of his other guild buildings in other towns,” Ruby said. “I need to find him. In person. Not his office.”
“You’re going to have to do that during daylight, I think.”
“Yeah, maybe. In daylight he will be hiding. He is not the kind of person that will just sit in his office.”
“What is he hiding from?”
“From me.”
“Why is he hiding from you?” This guy’s a guildmaster, Eykit thought. Who is this Ruby person, then? What power does she have over him? Is she some rival guildmaster? He wasn’t sure he liked where this train of thought was going.
“Because he stole money.”
“How much money?”
“A lot.”
“How much is ‘a lot’?”
“Millions of marks. He betrayed a lot of rich people. Not just me.”
“Really?”
Ruby nodded. “Really.”
Taid asked, “What’s the percentage on this gig?”
“I will not get the money back from him. I will get vengeance.”
Almë climbed down off of the roof, being careful not to fall. He wasn’t as experienced on rooftops as Eykit, although his Elven sense of balance was helpful.
“The guy’s window is the second from the left, there.” Eykit indicated the window with a nod of his head. No need to be so obvious as to point at it. “I figure that someone can just walk by during the day and see if anyone is in there.”
Ralsday, Harvest 28, 879 AFE
The next day, they took turns walking back and forth checking the window. They got a bit of a late start, because they had to wait for Ruby, who rose late, then had some breakfasts first.No one was in the office in the morning. There was no change by midday. She had gone by the window in the afternoon as well. No one was in it then, either. It didn’t look like Zorion had come in to work at all that day. There was a good chance that he wasn’t in town at the moment.
Almë decided to go to the Port Karn Agricultural Council campus, while the others watched the guild house window. It wasn’t far; only a few blocks.
The Port Karn Agricultural Council, usually called “peacock” in common parlance, because of the initials PKAC, owned what amounted to an entire block of buildings, with a common area between them.
It took Almë a while to find which of the many buildings were the administration offices. It was actually the largest of the buildings, and was where most of the agricultural planning and execution were located. It was also the offices of the Farmers’ Union.
Walking into yet another lobby, Almë knew his shpiel by this time. He started to introduced himself, but was stopped by the young clerk at the desk.
“Ah,” he said, “just a minute, Almë, let me get somebody.” He knew who Almë was, even before he’d gotten a chance to tell him who he was. That could be worrisome, Almë thought.
Almë only had to wait for a few minutes before a Dwarf came out and greeted him with “Almë! Hi! We’d been hoping you’d drop by! I’m Skadrel.”
Almë had never seen him before. “Yeah, sure. Sure, I’ve dropped by.” He was confused.
“So! Why are you here?” Skadrel asked.
“How do you know me?”
The Dwarf looked taken aback. “You are a plant mage. Of course we know you.”
“Okay. That’s a good reason.”
“We’ve heard things.”
“Good things?”
“Mostly good. We could definitely use someone with your skills. We wouldn’t even have to train you. You already know what you’re doing.”
“Yes, and I already have something I want to work on. Friends of mine have gotten a long way in possibly possessing one of the manors in the area. It’s in bad shape, and needs a lot of work.”
“How far away is this place?”
“Not very far. It was Vesten Manor.”
“Ah, Vesten Manor. So, are you guys in control of Vesten Manor, then?”
“We don’t technically have possession yet, but we are in process. And I thought, you guys could help me get this place running and up to speed and back into production, because obviously it’s in really bad shape. The peach orchard hasn’t been cared for in years.”
“Well, okay, come with me.” Skadrel brought Almë back to his office. It was a cluttered mess, with various papers everywhere. Most were text, but there were several surveyors’ maps as well. On the wall was a map of the area around Avondale, with lots of colored pins in it.
He went to a cabinet, and started rifling through the folders, looking for something specific. He pulled out a folder.
“Vesten Manor,” he began. “Okay.” He flipped through the documents in the folder. “Peach orchard, you say?”
“Yep.”
“And a bunch of currently fallow fields.”
“Yep.”
The Dwarf looked straight at him, looking Almë in the eyes. “Are you aware that they are Essential?”
“Not yet, no.”
Skadrel gave him a look. He didn’t buy Almë’s answer; as a Plant mage, Almë would have been able to tell just by digging his hands into the ground. He filed the Elf’s evasiveness away for later.
PKAC had been around for over 600 years. Port Karn, as a city of the Empire, had been around for over 800. During all that time, the jungle had been cut back, the exposed lands turned into farmland, necessary to provide enough food for the large city.
The Port Karn Agricultural Council had been sending mages around casting Bless Plants, Plant Growth, and Wither spells, all in an effort to increase yields and reduce the chance of famine. And those all worked pretty much on a season to season basis. But, in addition to that, they had also been sending mages from field to field, making the top 30 cm or so Essential Earth. Enchanting the ground in that manner made that dirt three times as productive, and, what was even more important, permanent.
Well, mostly permanent. Over time, other dirt got tilled into it, and compost and fertilizer got mixed into it as well, but it tended to last on the order of years, rather than seasons. And all seven fallow fields were Essential. And by being fallow, were being wasted as time and dust and erosion diluted the magical properties of the fields. The triple yield of weeds seemed to enjoy them, though.
The primary goal of PKAC was to provide food for the city and prevent famine. And Vesten had been remiss for years by having his very productive fields grow only large numbers of weeds. Not only did this not provide any food for the local markets, it also made it more difficult for the neighboring fields. They had to fight some very competitive weeds that weren’t limited to only the fields next door.
These were the reasons PKAC had been sending letters to Herbert Vesten, trying to convince him to step up and stop wasting his lands. And why they let a neighbor harvest the peach orchard, and why they gave another neighbor special dispensation to let his goats use the fallow fields as pasture.
“We found it and Herbert had left,” Almë said, “and we would like to take this over and get it running again. But we need help. I can do a lot of stuff, but we also need a loan because all of the farmhands’ houses are dilapidated and need repairs.”
“Ah. A bit of deferred maintenance?” Skadrel found it interesting that ‘Herbert had left’, and decided he would look into that. He got the impression that Almë wasn’t telling him everything.
“Very deferred maintenance. Close to collapsing, I think. And so we need craftsmen to repair that stuff. I can’t do everything on my own.”
“What can you do?” the Dwarf asked.
Almë listed the spells he knew and used.
“I’d like a demonstration. Come with me.” He led Almë to the courtyard between the buildings of the campus. It had raised beds just about everywhere they could be shoehorned in. The one that Skadrel led him to was just dirt. “I think someone has planted some seeds in this one, but I’m not sure. See what you can do with it.”
Almë meditated, calming his mind, then visualized what he was going to do. Then he cast a spell of Plant Growth. Subliminal motes of green-tinged magenta light coalesced from the air and from within himself, flowing over and around the raised bed, then settled into the earth.
Pale green sprouts popped up out of the ground, many in even rows, but also other things scattered randomly about. They darkened and grew taller until they reached about ten cm high. The ones in nice rows looked like peas. The randomly scattered ones were a combination of weeds, with the occasional volunteer from previous plantings.
“That’s pretty good. Come over to this one over here.”
Before Almë joined Skadrel over by the other raised bed, he cast a spell of Blossom on the peas, which caused them to continue to grow, forming blossoms, then pea pods. They trailed on the ground all around the bed, not having any trellises set up yet to grow on.
Skadrel looked over at the peas, soon to be in danger of being trod upon. “That’s… good.” He whistled and called over someone who must have been a groundskeeper. “Yo! Marco! We’ve got some peas over here that we should probably harvest before they get trampled and stepped on.”
“Sure thing, boss!” Marco yelled back. “I’ll take care of it.”
He gestured for Almë to join him over by a bed that looked like it was just covered in weeds of various kinds. “Okay, take care of these weeds.”
Almë cast Wither Plants. The entire bed of weeds died off, turning brown and crispy. There was only one type of plant that hadn’t been affected: the oregano. Almë had figured that wasn’t a weed, so he had excluded it from the casting.
“Okay. Good. One more test.”
He went over to a bed of carrots. “Go ahead and Bless these. You have the spell of Blessing Plants, right?”
“Yes.”
“Show me what you’ve got.”
Almë cast the spell without difficulty, it was one he knew well. There was no visible change to the plants, but it was a spell that worked over the entire length of the season, so it would be at least a few days before any change became visible anyway. Even then, there would be no real way to determine whether the changes had been caused by magic, or just sunlight, earth, and water.
“You’ve got the main ones that we need. So, are you willing to join the guild?”
“What are the conditions?”
“You pay your dues, and work for us.”
“How much are the dues?”
“Well, the dues will be automatically taken out of your pay, but it’s 300 marks a month.”
“Okay, how much does the job pay, and does it involve me getting Almë Manor up to snuff? So yes, I would like my job to be getting that place running, and I would like you to support me on that.”
“We can definitely make sure that working on that property is your foremost duty. Won’t be your only duty, though.”
“Then can you also cross off the name on your file? Change ‘Vesten’ to “Almë Manor’?”
Skadrel cocked his head, stroking his beard. “I can do that when Baroness Walters says I can. She’s the one that has the property in liege to Count Sharpe. Technically, the Emperor owns the land, you’ll just be running it.”
“Oh, I’m not asking for it to change ownership, I just want it renamed.”
“I can’t do that until the Baroness says it’s okay. Until then, it stays Vesten Manor.”
Almë sighed. He played with the idea of sneaking back into Skadrel’s office and changing the name on the file himself. No one would know, right? It was only his name on the document, in his handwriting, with him the only person who wanted it done.
“But to answer your question, Almë, the job pays a net 1200 marks a month.”
“And can I get a loan to repair the farmhands’ shacks and houses?”
“No, not yet. Not until it’s yours. Then it’s a possibility. But I can’t guarantee something like that.”
“Then it will take longer, if I’m paying for it on my own.”
“We understand. Getting the land up and producing, getting the weeds out of it, are the priorities.”
“Any particular fields or crops I should start with?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” He handed Almë a list of preferred crops that they would like to see grown, based upon what all of the other farms were producing. He actually gave the Elf a two lists, one of the dry season, one for the wet season. They had obviously prepared for someone to come on Vesten Manor’s behalf.
The dry season were the five months Emerging, Latespring, Warmbreeze, Heatdaze, and Harvest. In order of preference, the crops requested were Wheat, Taro, Rye, Barley, Oats, Flax, Yams, Beans, Squash, and Hemp.
The wet season was marked by the months Leafturn, Colding, Darksun, Icewind, and Warmthope. For those months, the following crops were on the list: Taro, Spinach, Mint, Cabbage, Arugula, Celery, Watercress, Cauliflower, and Garden Pea. Taro was a perennial, which would mean devoting an entire field to that starchy crop, and not letting it go fallow.
Almë wondered where he could get seed stock. He could probably purchase it from PKAC. Or at least they would know where to get seed to plant.
“Hey,” Almë asked Skadrel, “Can you guys put in a good word for me to the Baroness?”
“I’ll see what we can do.” Skadrel smiled, then realized he had paperwork to do now to prepare Almë for the guild, and vice versa, and he groaned.
Elitheris had been collecting materials in preparation to building a new bow while she had been out hunting. Her current bow was good, and had served her well for the last few decades, but one with more power and a stronger draw would be better.
But she didn’t have a workshop, nor did she have any tools. When she had built her last bow, she had found a woodcrafter living outside of a town somewhere to the northwest of Port Karn. She had stayed in that area for a while, hunting and sharing the kills with him. In return, he let her use his shop and tools. She was there for months, carefully making and decorating her bow, tuning it to specific preferences, then making a bunch of arrows to go with it.
The woodcrafter had watched, intrigued, as Elitheris lit scented candles, drew flowing symbols in chalk around the workspace, and even sung while she worked, carefully gluing pieces into place, carving a detailed piece of inlay, and slowly building a beautifully decorated bow. The decoration was all part of the construction process, as was the ritualized movements and the other parts of the rituals she performed while working on the weapon. In her mind, one was a part of the other, and couldn’t be separated.
The crafter had said one evening, while they ate a dinner of roasted venison, with wild potatoes and onions with rosemary and parsley, that if he built things as slowly and carefully as she did, he’d go out of business.
Her reply was that Elves always worked that way; anything worth making was worth making beautiful. And she wasn’t planning on selling the bow anyway. It was for her use.
He had nodded, and mentioned that now he understood why Elven goods were so expensive. One paid for quality and beauty.
That man was likely dead by now, Elitheris noted. He had been an older man when she had stayed with him, and like most Humans, lived such short lives. That made her think about Eykit, and how Goblin lives were even shorter than Human ones. Dwarves lasted a few hundred years, so Taid was likely to be around a while. But Eykit? He was going to be gone in an eye blink. It made her feel sad. She would just have to enjoy what little time she had with him.
She found that thought a little surprising. He wasn’t the type of person she would normally be friends with, but there was something about him that made him very likable. Despite what he did for a living.
But she needed to find a good wood shop, with an accommodating crafter. She had developed a list of places to visit as she had noticed them around town.
Eykit hadn’t been interested in coming with Elitheris, which was too bad. His charm and negotiation skills might have been useful. But he had said he needed to check in with his own guild and see what they needed him to do.
That was okay. Elitheris was capable of handling woodworkers herself. And she knew what she was looking for, so the things that set her on edge in the city were less of a distraction.
Elitheris went to what amounted to “woodcrafter’s row”, and area where the Carpenters’ Guild had several shops fairly close together. She went into the first one. It was a decent sized shop, with space capable of building things up to three meters long. Tools were racked up on the rear wall, and a countertop separated the customer space from the workspace, likely for safety reasons as much as security.
There were several people working there. One was constructing furniture, a chair by the looks of it, although it wasn’t far along. Another was cutting plant material down to size.
From them, she was able to get a list of every shop on the Row. She even found a bowyer on the list. She thanked them for their help, and went next to the bowyer.
His shop was smaller, and she found him shaving down the ends of a longbow. She watched him for a while. He’d shave a bit off of the ends, then take the bow and mount it to hooks on the wall, connecting ropes to the ends, which then ran through a pulley system about two meters from the bow. Pulling on the ropes would then pull down the ends of the bow, and the bowyer could tell how far the deflection was and if it was balanced, and thus tailor the draw weight.
He did this a few times before Elitheris made herself known.
“Oh!” he said, “How can I help you?” He was a Human of about forty years old, clean shaven and with short brown hair. He was obviously strong, with lean muscles that she could see flexing on his arms when he moved.
She was carrying her bow, which he noticed. Even from a distance, he could tell it was a quality bow.
“I’m looking to craft a bow that has a higher draw weight than the one I have right now.” She held up the bow she was carrying.
“Oh!” he said, as he got a better view. It was beautiful.
“I have already been collecting the materials for it, but I just don’t have the tools to do the crafting.”
“Ah. Let’s see what you can do. You built that bow?”
“Yes.”
“May I see it?”
“Sure.”
He held out his hand. He wasn’t about to take it from her. He was too polite for that. Elitheris noted and appreciated that bit of courtesy. She placed the bow in his hands.
While he perused her bow, she checked out his shop. It had what seemed like nice tools, and in addition to the bow making tools, she could also see jigs for arrows and fletching as well. The only thing he lacked was a small forge for making arrowheads. A couple of crossbows hung on the walls. It looked like a full service shop.
He looked at it carefully, from one end to the grip to the other end, tested its pull, and saw how it reacted to tension. He seemed to have little trouble drawing it back; most bowyers were also good archers. They had to be, to test their work. He spent a lot of time examining it, especially the carvings and inlay work. Some of it was very intricate.
“Nice work,” he said. He knew it was an understatement.
“Thank you,” Elitheris replied.
“Man, if I didn’t have all of the apprentices I needed I would love to take you on. But I suppose I could let you work here, for a price. Sort of like rent.”
“Okay, how much?”
“I could let you work here for twenty marks a week.” He figured that Elves being Elves, it would take her months to make her bow, and all he had to do was let her rent a locker for her materials. She likely wouldn’t be here all day every day either, so he felt he was getting a pretty good deal. And he would be able to watch her work. He might even learn something, unless she did that witchy Elf thing with the chants and rituals.
“Seems fair. I not going to be able to be here every day, because I have to do other things to make money, but as I’m able I’d like to come in when I can and work on it.”
“Sounds like we have a deal, then?” the crafter asked.
“Deal,” Elitheris said, holding out her hand. He took it, shook. “I’m Elitheris. And you are?”
“Ander Osgar. I’ve got two apprentices you will be seeing around as well. Meria Swiftfeet, and Kargath Cromûsh. Both should be willing to lend a hand, if required. I’ll let them know you’ll be dropping by now and again.”
While Eykit was hanging out in the Pig’s In His Cups tavern with a couple of his fellow Skulls, getting caught up on inter-thieves’ guild rumors and scuttlebutt, Jakkit came in. He strode over to Eykit, and said, softly, “You guys have been summoned to see the Baroness. Sounds like she has an opening in her schedule.”
“About the property, maybe?”
“Yeah. Apparently so. She wants to talk to you guys. In person, on this day, at this time.” He handed Eykit a scroll, tied with a nice embroidered ribbon. He opened it, and saw that he had two days. “Wear something appropriate.”
“Uh, Iceman, do I have someone to talk to about what ‘appropriate’ means?” Eykit had no clue as to what kinds of clothing he should wear to see a baroness.
“You might want to try this shop.” He gave Eykit another piece of paper. On it was written “Annalynn’s’ Fine Clothes and Tailoring”.
“Thanks, boss,” he said, as he left in a hurry. He had to tell Elitheris, Taid, and Almë that they had an audience with the high mucky muck.
They all balked at having to spend money on clothes. They all realized the importance of it, though. Elitheris had no interest in owning any part of the Manor. “Hey,” Almë said, “you get to save the money you would have spent on a dress!”
“I’m actually curious to see what she would look like in a dress,” Eykit said. “Never seen her in one.”
Elitheris had to think about the last time she wore a dress. It was when Celumarauca had still existed. Before she burned it down in that horrible accident. She could barely remember what wearing a dress felt like.
Eykit also told them about Jakkit’s shop suggestion.
“I’m ready to drop some money on clothes I’ll never wear again. It’s fine,” Eykit said, resigned.
They had two days to get clothes tailored to them that would be appropriate for courtly use. They went into the city.
Eykit, Almë, and Taid entered Annalynn’s shop, the bell on the door ringing as they did so. There were a few racks of clothes along the edges of the room. A well-dressed man, tall, Human, and attractive, walked up to them. When he saw Eykit, he said, “Ah, good! You’re here!” His voice was a pleasant tenor.
Eykit said, “Great.” He wasn’t sure he liked being recognized so much.
Almë said, “Hello, good sir.”
“So, I’ve heard you guys need to have some nice clothing.”
“We have an audience with the Baroness,” Eykit said, not sounding like he was excited about it at all. “Aren’t we important.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “apparently so. Step this way.”
Eykit gestured at himself. “Somehow, I need to make this appear decent and reasonable, and I don’t have a lot to work with.”
He looked at the three of them for a few moments, then said “Just a moment,” and turned away and went to two others who had been in a back room. “Okay,” he told them, “we need to get these guys fitted for some very nice clothes.” He turned back to the three customers. “What is the time frame we have to work with?”
“Day after tomorrow,” Eykit said, glumly.
“Right! Should have guessed.” He didn’t sound pleased. “Rush jobs, yay.” He sighed. “Then we will modify what we have into something that should work. It’s not the proper way to do it; we really should be starting from scratch for you, but we just don’t have the time.”
He looked around. “Should do. We have clothes that should fit you more or less. We even have Goblin sizes. We cater to everybody.”
“Normally I just wear little boy’s clothes.”
“Well, it may come down to little rich boy clothes, but we’ll tailor them so they will work for you.”
First, the three employees of the store each took one of them, and got their measurements. Then they spent about six hours with them, trying on clothes and then spending a lot of time marking them up for tailoring.
“This is going to be expensive,” Eykit groused. There was no doubt about it, it would be expensive.
Eykit got his second choice color; they didn’t have anything that would fit him in his first choice. But the clothes looked nice on him, and they would fit well when they were done with the bespoke tailoring.
Almë and Taid were a bit easier to fit, although Almë required some significant tailoring, due to his tall size and almost emaciated slenderness.
Once they had their new clothes, the head clerk and Eykit haggled over the price. Eykit managed to get it down to only a thousand marks each for the sets of clothing, for a total of three thousand marks.
Almë looked uncomfortable. “I need a loan.”
Taid, grumbling, said “I’ll cover you, Elf. Here is the 200 you need. You own me 250 next eightday.
“Sure, thanks Taid.”
They handed over the large amount of coins. They went back to the manor.
Ruby was a bit frustrated. Another day, another lack of Zorion. Another city, and no Zorion. The damned Empire had too many cities. Where was that asshole? She’d tried Seeker, several times, but it had never worked. She figured he had some kind of scryguard amulet or something.
He hadn’t show up all day. He had never walked in through the front door. She had a list of his offices an arm long, but they had always been empty. And she hadn’t heard that he had died, or disappeared, so he must still be out there.
She had approached the problem in several different ways; trying just walking in and asking, and using more secretive ploys like the one she tried in Port Karn.
She wondered where the others were. She sort of liked them. She knew that Almë had gone to the Port Karn Agricultural Council, probably to join that mage guild. Elitheris had said she needed to find a carpenter’s shop or a bowyers. Eykit had gone to do things with his guild of thieves. She didn’t know where Taid had gone.
They had told her about Vesten Manor, but she didn’t know where that was. From the description, it had to be outside of town, in the vast agricultural area that took a day to travel across.
But she could ask around. A manor shouldn’t be hard to find. She headed south.
Elitheris was at the manor when Ruby arrived in the evening. It hadn’t taken her long to find the place; it wasn’t far from the edge of town, and there were plenty of people working for local manors who knew the name and location.
“This guy you are looking for,” Elitheris said. “Is there any reason that I couldn’t just go in and ask for him?”
“There is a very good chance that he would just send someone out to tell you that he wasn’t there, or that he didn’t actually exist at all. He knows he’s being hunted. I think he’s ordered all of his underlings to deny his presence, and possibly his existence.”
“I was just wondering. I’m a good sneaky person, although not a small one like Eykit. And I’m a good sniper, but I don’t know how useful that is to you. I was just trying to see if I could help out. What else is there to know about this person that would help us identify him?”
Artem, Tennant, and Tricola was a large mage guild, spread out over numerous towns and cities. “How many branch offices have you visited so far?” Elitheris asked.
“Eleven, so far. Some of their branch offices have as many as two people in them.”
“I was thinking…I could just walk in and say I wanted to send a message to my folks.” She would say that her folks live in a village near Knightsmill. Then the mage would send a mental message to her folks magically. Then maybe she could sneak around afterward….Maybe she could talk to the person in charge with a message involving a very sensitive matter? Someone with authority, to fully satisfy her needs. She’d need a better wardrobe, to look the part of a rich client who could afford to keep secrets.
That idea got out of hand. Elitheris wouldn’t be able to pull off a deception like that. She lacked the attitude, capacity, and desire to do so. She could be Ruby’s assistant or bodyguard. Or a clerk or valet. She thought that she could manage being a quiet assistant.
The sun had set before the trio of shoppers came back to the manor. They were a little surprised to see Ruby there.
“Hey, what up, girl!” Almë said.
“Not a girl,” Ruby responded, insulted. “I’m an adult Hobbit. And I’m starving. Your larder is crap.”
“Hey, I just filled it with deer and antelope meat!” Elitheris said defensively.
“Yeah, that’s a problem for me. I don’t eat meat.”
“Ah, sorry.”
Almë changed the subject. “Did you find your guy?”
“No, I did not. His office was empty all day. I don’t think he’s going to be sitting in that office right now in front, with the street just outside his window.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Almë asked.
“Mister Spins-A-Tale, here,” Elitheris poked Eykit in the shoulder, “is going to go in and demand to see the manager. As if we need to see someone in authority because we have information of a sensitive nature. And I will accompany him as a clerk.”
“But you don’t have any good clothes Elitheris,” Almë said. “I can do it.”
Elitheris disagreed. Almë had been there, and was known. It shouldn’t be him. Which left Taid. Spill-the-Beans Taid. But as long as Taid kept his mouth shut, he’d be fine.
Starsday, Harvest 29, 879 AFE
It was the next day, and they put their plan into action. Eykit and Taid dressed up in their new clothes. Ruby gave them some pointers on how to move like someone of higher status than they were used to. If they hadn’t had that instruction, they would have seemed like imposters.They went into Artem, Tennant, and Tricola. They walked up to Mick, the clerk at the front desk. Eykit did the talking. He launched into “persnickety customer” mode, saying that he had a message that was confidential and he wanted to make sure that its security was ensured by the highest officer of the guild they had. He wanted to know how many people saw the message, and what was done with it, and how many people might be able to intercept it.
Mick did his best to mollify the increasingly agitated Goblin client, whose voice had raised an octave since he started to talk. He got a bit more flustered when the Goblin mentioned that the information was sensitive intel about certain Imperial government officials that absolutely couldn’t be shared with just anyone. He didn’t say the word “treason”, but the implication was there.
Ruby had suggested that dropping the name “Mr. Clemens” might be a good idea.
Mick said, “We take client confidentiality very seriously. It’s a privilege to send messages for clients, and we do everything we can to make sure that private messages stay private. We are bound by our own creed, not to mention that anyone who violates it is highly likely to be fired. Our business model is based upon our reputation for total confidentiality, and we would go out of business if no one trusted us.”
In a sense, it is similar to how the networks of couriers worked. Their reputation was on the line in a similar fashion. They had to be trusted not to open other people’s mail. And they didn’t, as a general rule.
Ruby gave them a name of one of her colleagues to be the theoretical recipient of the message. She also gave them a code phrase, along with the actual message she wanted sent. It was a real message, to a real person in Adayn. She needed to check in anyway.
Another reason they needed one of the officers of the guild was that sending a message all the way to Adayn was very difficult. They needed a good mage…the best, if possible. And that was likely one of the officers, and certainly Mr. Clemens could do it.
“Uh,” Mick said, as he looked up how far Adayn was from Port Karn on a series of tables in a thick book, “we don’t have anyone in the office at the moment the could handle that distance with any reasonable chance of success. We are still willing to try, but it will cost you.”
“’Not in the office’ What does the mean?” Eykit asked.
“Here in town.”
“Where can we find someone who could send the message?”
“Well, I’d say the only person who could send it that far is our guildmaster, and he isn’t in the office. Probably won’t be for weeks.”
“Can we find him somewhere?”
“Oh, he’s on a tour of all the different branch offices, making sure everyone’s doing their jobs. Helping out when he’s there if they need it, that sort of thing.”
“Is that a circuit that he does on the regular?”
“More or less. He’s never really in any one place for more than a week.”
“Does he have a travel plan or something?”
“Not really. He makes it up as he goes along. At least, he has in the past. He’s never been big on itineraries.”
“Do you even know where he is going to be?”
“Yeah. In general.”
“So we can send a message to him, wherever he is? And have him relay it?”
The thought went through Eykit’s head that sending the message to Zorion might just tip him off, and be the last thing they wanted.
“How far away is he now?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know where he is.”
“Ah, so he’s not on a schedule.”
“Like I said, he makes it up as he goes along.”
“Can you leave us a message when he’s back?”
“Yes, I can do that.”
“Any idea of how long? A rough estimation?”
“A couple of eightdays.”
“The information is really important and we need to relay it. The sooner we can get in touch with him, the better.”
“Time sensitive, I take it?”
“Yes.”
Going overland to Adayn would take months. Sailing around the coast would take several weeks, assuming the weather held and there were few stops on the way. Even sending a Aarakocra to deliver it would take an eightday, if the flying courier wasn’t waylaid by something or someone. No, magical means was the safest and fastest, even if they had to wait a couple of eightdays.
“Whoever your guildmaster is, he isn’t in regular communication with you?”
“Every once in a while we’ll get a message from him. It’s not a regular thing though.”
“Can you call him back to town, next time you reach him?”
“We can try. We can at least ask him, since we have a client that needs his services, and no one else can do it.”
“Okay.”
“If he shows up, I’ll let you know. Just leave your names and where we can find you here in this ledger.”
“Did the guild leader leave here recently?” Eykit asked, writing a fake name down in the ledger.
“No, he’s been gone for eightdays,” Mick replied.
Eykit and Taid left the guild building, going across the street to where Ruby, Almë, and Elitheris waited, along with the two dogs.
“Well,” Eykit told them after explaining what they’d heard, “that explains why he hasn’t been at his office, or anywhere you’ve looked. He’s been traveling around the Empire.”
“Plus, since he stole all of the money, he wouldn’t want to do anything predictable,” Ruby stated.
“Well, that is that, then, for a while,” Almë said. “We have an important meeting with the baroness tomorrow. Want to join us?”
“What would you want me to do?” Ruby asked.
“Lend some credibility to our mission,” Eykit said.
“We’re trying to buy a mansion,” Elitheris said, even though she really didn’t consider herself part of the purchasing party.
“Well, we don’t really want to buy it. We’d rather it just be given to us.” Eykit was always trying to get the good deal. And how much better a deal would a free Manor be?
“We just want to run it,” Elitheris amended. “We want to profit off of it. And I’ll be the wildlife manager. Huntsmaster, I think it’s called.”
Almë asked if Ruby wanted to join them in running the Manor. Then he told her about the secret lab, which, if he kept telling everyone he met, wouldn’t be secret much longer.
She wanted to see the lab, and the rest of the secret basement. They led her down the stairs into the pantry, then Almë did something under the stairs, and popped open the secret door, which swung out on silent hinges.
It lead to a corridor which opened into a very nicely appointed study.
“This is my crib,” Almë said.
Ruby could see several medical books, and several on necromancy. There were more books she didn’t have time to see before being shown the lab. Was Almë a necromancer?
It was filled with all sorts of alchemical equipment, of a type and quality she had never seen before. A male human moved between the two center tables, each one an elixir brewing station. He was adding some powder to a bubbling pot, and glanced up when they had opened the door. He got a momentary look of annoyance on his face before shrugging in resignation at the interruption.
If they wanted to keep showing the lab off to everyone and their neighbor, he was going to stop keeping it a secret.
Ruby walked in, over to Ekain, who tried to ignore her. He was busy, doing very delicate work, and didn’t need any distractions. But she talked to him anyway.
“What are you doing in this lab?” she said in a nonaccusatory tone.
“I’m renting this lab, and doing alchemy in it,” he answered. “In my lab.”
“Sure sure,” Ruby said, stepping back a pace. “I just wanted to know what you were working on.”
“Potions.”
“I can see that, but what potions?”
He looked at her. She was all up in his business. He glanced at Almë and Eykit, who were in the doorway. “Should I tell her what your business is?”
“Yeah, sure,” Almë said.
“Fine,” he said with a shrug. He pointed to the table closest to the door. “That one,” he said, “is a batch of Fire Resistance potions.” He pointed to the one he had just added the powder to. “And this one is Fetching and Carrying.”
“And you are selling these?”
“Three doses of the first batch of healing potions were for them,” he said, indicating the doorway and the people in it with a thumb. “The others I’m selling to help pay for this place.”
“So you have customers?”
“Well, of course.”
“Who are they?”
“My customers are my—and their—business. I can’t divulge who they are.”
Almë spoke up. “He’s the local alchemist from the New Square district. So he’s pretty tight with the New Square Skulls.”
Gods! That dumb Elf is going to get me killed! Ekain thought. “I’m not a member of the New Square Skulls! I simply have a shop in their territory!”
Ruby was very interested in what the alchemist was doing, because she was always interested in people who might be able to influence the rich people, who in turn influenced the goings on in the city. She wasn’t sure what this guy was actually doing, but the potential for political usefulness was there.
She had made a study of alchemy, at least its theoretical underpinnings. She didn’t actually brew potions, but she had while learning about them. She checked out the mixture on the first table. It smelled like an in-process fire resistance potion. Color looked right, too. She went to the second table, and looked into that bubbling pot. It smelled like an almost finished fetch and carry potion.
Ekain watched the Hobbit woman sniffing at his mixtures. He wasn’t sure he liked her much. She was nosy.
“What made you choose those two elixirs?”
“They only take seven days to make. And I don’t know how long I’ll be able to work here, because these guys,” he pointed to Almë and friends, “don’t actually own the place yet. I’m squatting, just like them. But this lab is just too good not to use!”
“He could always go back to his shitty lab in town,” Eykit said.
“It’s a perfectly functional lab,” Ekain retorted. “It just doesn’t compare to this one, that’s all.”
Almë then wanted to show her the other part of the secret basement.
Eykit nudged him. “We haven’t even shown that to Ekain!” He said softly. “And you want to show some secretive bounty hunter or whatever?”
“Yeah, but we want her to be helping us, right? So we should—“
“Should we, though?” He stood in front of the door, not letting anyone get to the doorknob. “I’m just amazed at how much information you just fling around!”
“Taid already told her about the necromancers experimenting with Shards and putting Shards in people!”
“Yeah, but he didn’t say there was a secret room under the house that has a fully equipped surgical theater where he did it! With a blood drain! And meat hooks!”
Almë barged past Eykit. He was dead set in showing the Hobbit all of their secrets.
“Why not?” Eykit said in frustration. “Why not? I’ve just spend a thousand marks on clothes I don’t want!”
“That’s exactly why we are opening it up.”
Elitheris said, “What, so she can be our sugar mama?”
“Well, I don’t think she has that much money,” Almë said. “But at least we aren’t completely starving any more.”
“Oh my gods….” Eykit moaned. What if she was a spy for the Flower Street Harriers? Or worse, what if she was a spy for the City Guard? It would be just like them to find some person from the other side of the Empire and use her to worm her way into his trust.
Ruby looked into the room. The section by the door had a pair of articulated surgical chairs. Nearby were cabinets and counters. Standing against the wall were two coffins. At the other end of the room were three steel cadaver tables, complete with drains. At the far end of the room were two rows of five morgue lockers. Running down the center of the room were hooks on trolleys, so anything held by the hooks could be moved from one end of the room to the other.
Currently, carcasses hung from each of the two hooks. One was a small deer, the other was an antelope. Some cuts of meat had already been carved off of them. Elitheris had been using the steel tables as a butcher’s workstation.
The room could definitely be considered ominous. The surgical chairs had integral straps for holding down patients. And the fact that there was what appeared to be a morgue at the far end meant that sickness and infection could be rampant in anyone receiving surgery here.
Ruby wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to throw her lot with these people. They squatted in a run down, dilapidated manor house surrounded by fields of weeds. They had a nice lab, but they also had a weird medical lab that smelled of blood and despair.
She needed their help in order to find Zorion Clemens; they had at least proved useful for that. “Well,” she said, “I still need your help. But I think I might be able to help you get this place.”
“If you help us secure this place, you won’t have to pay us,” Almë blurted out.
“At all?”
“Ever?” Eykit asked, incredulous. Was Almë insane?
“For quite some time. Let’s make it—“ Almë said.
“If this continues to be a mutually beneficial relationship…” Eykit started.
“I’m hungry, and I love fresh vegetables.”
Almë said, “I’m working on it!”
“I know,” Ruby said. “I just really like green veggies. And maybe I can cook some of them up. I have decided I will tag along tomorrow and help you. But I want to stay here, in a private room with my dog.” Staying there, in that run down house, would be the last thing Zorion would expect. He’d never think to look for her there. She didn’t expect him to start hunting her, but one never knew. He might be feeling desperate. He had to know that Central was after him.
Lifesday, Harvest 30, 879 AFE
The next day they were summoned to the Citadel, where the Archduchess had her home, and the local government did their work. It was as large as an entire district of the city, and was comprised of Featherstone Keep, an Imperial Army base, and a collection of government buildings and administrative offices where all of the legislating and records keeping took place.They had never been to the Citadel before. They were met at the gate by a group of guards in the livery of the Archduchess. They confiscated any weapon larger than an eating knife, tagging each one an storing it in a locked room.
They were led into the grounds by a low ranking officer. The grounds were primarily pavers, forming an immense flat area mainly used by the Army for drills and formation marching. They walked past Featherstone Keep, a walled castle inside the walled Citadel. It was at least six stories high.
“Ugh, that’s a lot of stairs,” Eykit said, eyeing the tall keep.
“Archduchess Featherstone is a Dwarf,” Taid said. “So she likely has ramps instead of stairs. Not a lot of stairs in Dwarven cities. You can’t get wagons up stairways. And once you have a ramp, there is no reason to add a redundant set of stairs.”
They continued around the keep, and as they got closer to the administrative buildings, they could see a park with a pond. It was mostly grass with wildflowers, but a stand of trees grew on the far side of the pond.
The administrative buildings were three or four stories tall, made of grey brick, with pale red tile roofs. This section of the Citadel was a very busy place. People were everywhere, going between buildings on whatever business they were about.
They were shown into an office building, and put into a conference room. It wasn’t terribly large, and its primary feature was a table and chairs that took up almost all of the space in the room.
They were shown to seats. Two guards stayed just inside the closed doors, at attention. After about five minutes, which seemed longer, because Eykit was unable to get the guards to talk at all, Baroness Walters walked in.
She was an attractive woman, in her twenties with dark hair and dark skin. She wore a blue dress of relatively simple design, but with elaborate embroidery and beading along the collar, sleeves, and down the center row of buttons. She had her hair up in a tasteful coif that looked like it took a servant an hour to arrange.
She arrived with a stenographer and an aide-de-camp. Two other guards were stationed outside of the doors, bringing the number of guards up to four. They were armed with swords and shields, and wore gambeson with brigandines. They wore the olive and khaki livery of the Tondene Imperial Army.
Taid and Almë knew that these guys were likely hand-picked, and were from the upper echelons of their units. They were the best. Both of the inside guards were Orcs, the ones outside were a Human and a Dwarf.
The baroness sat down at the head of the table, the stenographer sat next to her, and her aide-de-camp stood just behind her. “So,” Baroness Walters said, “Who are you, and why was I supposed to give you an audience?”
There was silence at the table for a few moments. No one wanted to talk first. Eykit tried a few times to speak, but for once, nothing came out.
Ruby knew how to talk to high status individuals. She introduced Eykit, Almë, and Taid, then herself. She did her best to take what she had been told about the manor and its grounds and how they could put the manor to good use. She also mentioned that Almë was a plant mage, a member of PKAC, and was already drawing up plans to improve the land. PKAC had told him that should part of the responsibility of the manor fall to him, that would be his primary focus until the lands were producing again.
“No one is taking care of the manor right now,” Ruby said.
“The previous owner left,”Eykit said, finally finding his voice, “and the property was abandoned. The lands are fallow and growing only weeds. So of course no taxes are being raised from it. It’s a dire shame.”
“So,” the baroness said, “apparently you are telling me that I should turn over an entire manor house to a gardener?”
“Not just a gardener! We are a consortium of uh, mages and skilled tradesmen.”
“Explain to me why I should let you run Vesten Manor.” The baroness’ face betrayed nothing.
“Because we’d be really good at it,” Eykit said.
“And not, say, somebody else? There are plenty of capable people.”
“Well, first off, no one has stepped up. Like I said, it’s going to ruin at this point. It’s falling down upon itself. Herbert Vesten was not taking care of it. And we would like the opportunity to try. We think we can make a go of it. We have our gardener, who’ll be working with Essential land. He’s already made great strides.” He hadn’t, not really, not yet.
“And what benefit do I get if I elevate you in this manner? Gardener,” she turned to Almë, “why don’t you tell me.”
“Um, I was told to shut up.” He sheepishly looked to Ruby.
Ruby whispered to him, “When the Baroness asked you a question directly, it’s generally good to answer her.”
Almë nodded, and enthusiastically explained how great of a plant mage he was, and how good the gardens were in Nendo Lantasirë, his home town where he had worked in them. He described how he shaped the houses as they grew, and how he tended the defensive plants.
“And obviously we will be better at paying taxes than Herbert,” Eykit said.
“So,” and she turned to Eykit, “what makes you think you can become landed knights?”
“Well, we’re not really trying to become landed knights.”
“Doesn’t matter. People will think that because you have the manor, that you are minor nobility. The fact that you aren’t won’t really come into it. Perception forms reality, like it or not, especially where the upper classes are concerned.”
“Why would anyone need to know?”
“The fact that you are running a manor would be news enough. They will think you are landed knights, whether I grant you that status or not.”
“Because I’m one of the best plant mages around? Is that a good enough reason?”
“Well, a little birdie did tell me that you were a decent plant mage.”
Almë swallowed a retort about only being a “decent” mage.
For his part, Eykit really didn’t want to become a knight. Sure, it had its perks. But he didn’t want anything making him more public than he already was. It was bad enough that he was recognized as often as he was! If he was a knight, then more people would recognize him, and his whole livelihood would be threatened.
“What if we did it like, where it wasn’t ours, and it belonged to someone else?” Eykit asked.
Almë sputtered, and started kicking Eykit under the table.
“Like a shadow corporation, sort of, where we just, you know….”
Almë looked apoplectic. He started counting, then started meditating to calm himself down. Eykit was going to ruin everything! But going berserk wouldn’t solve anything, and just make things worse, so Almë did what he could to stay under control.
Ruby stepped in. “If I may have a word?”
Baroness Walters glanced at the Hobbit. “And who are you, exactly? My notes don’t mention a Hobbit.”
“I’m Ruby Smallburrow, from Adayn. I’m here on vacation.”
“And what connection do you have with these guys?”
“They helped me out with a problem I had. And I actually have seen their place, and it looks abandoned and really in need of repair. And I saw how good Almë is with his plant magics, and the others are really passionate about the place and want it to succeed. If you think about it, if you have some nobleman who will just ignore this place again and won’t feed the people with the food from the farm, you will have nothing again, and they won’t be paying their taxes. They will likely just be using the property to get money out of it, rather than any higher goals. They won’t care about you.”
She gestured around at her companions around the table. “Here you have some guys who don’t have that much right now, and it’s a place they’ll take care of because they are really passionate about it. You and the city get some food out of it, and a win-win situation. It has a lot of potential.”
“You realize,” the baroness said, “that if I give it to you, it puts me in a vulnerable position? Vesten Manor is a prize, minor though it may be. But it’s still coveted. Instead of forging new or better ties with whichever noble might get it, I am alienating all of them. This could be potentially dangerous, as alliances are vital.”
She stood up. “Okay, I’ve heard enough. And your time is up—“
Almë cut in, “We can also—“
She didn’t let him finish his interruption. “I will take your arguments under consideration, and make my ruling by the end of the eightday.” She turned and left the room.
Eykit put his head in his hands. “I feel like I just wasted a thousand marks on these clothes.” Maybe he could sell them back.
But it was just a preliminary interview. She hadn’t made the ruling yet, and it might not all collapse around their heads. Maybe they influenced her decision….
Still, their arguments seemed pretty weak when they remembered what they had said. But, it was over now. They had done what they could, and could now only hope that Baroness Walters took pity on them.
Almë had the most to lose, really. Although, PKAC would likely make him work on the manor regardless of who owned it. He would be annoyed if he lost the chance to be an owner, yet had to work there anyway.
“Ugh, this is painful,” Eykit complained. “Alright, fine. Fine fine fine.”
He’d need to keep the clothes at least until the ruling, which, according to the baroness, would be in two days.
They stood. The two Orc guards hadn’t moved, and they hadn’t closed the door after the baroness had left. They had just waited patiently for the “guests” to rouse themselves to leave. When Eykit, Almë, Taid, and Ruby left the room, they did too, closing the door and following their charges out.
They had two days. They could at least use the manor for two more days.
“Maybe Almë can quick-grow some vegetables that we can offer as a little sampling?” Eykit suggested. “And maybe I can filch some guy’s wallet and give that to her?”
“Did you really want to pull out of being an owner, or just be a shell owner or whatever?” Almë asked Eykit.
“I just don’t want to be fricking famous, is the problem!”
On the way out, Almë did what he could to memorize the layout of the Citadel. They were escorted back to the main gates, where they got all of their stuff back.
Most of the day was used up. As the Citadel was on a rise, the city lay spread out below them, a lumpy sea of reddish tile roofs and grey stone, speckled with blobs of green from trees. Off to their right, the mouth of the Altasirya River flowed out into the sea. The offshore breeze brought the tang of salt to their noses. Where they were, there were only residences between them and the ocean, so they didn’t smell the wharves.
Two days went by, slowly.
Skysday, Harvest 32, 879 AFE
Around midmorning, they saw a rider on a horse, cantering down the dirt path that led through the weed-choked fields to the manor house. As he got closer, they could see the satchel and diagonal sash of a courier. Almë had been out in the field in front of the house’s courtyard gate, and he hurried inside to get the others.Almë waved at him. “Welcome to Almë Manor!”
The courier reined up, looked confused, then said, “I must have the wrong place, then.” He turned his horse around.
Eykit kicked Almë’s shin. “Stop! My gods! You are not helping!”
“Oh wait!” Almë shouted, “We only potentially renamed it. Depending upon what’s in the letter!”
“I’m looking for Vesten Manor,” the courier stated, annoyed. “Is this Vesten Manor, or is it not?”
“Currently, yes,” Almë admitted. He pointed to the big “A” formed out of a boxwood that now obscured the sign built into the wall that said “Vesten Manor”. He’d been busy the last couple of days feeding his ego by making a hedge with his name.
“I am looking for and ‘Alme’, ‘Eykit’, and a ‘Taid’.”
“I’m Almë.”
“Eykit,” said the Goblin.
“And I’m Taid,” the Dwarf said.
“Good. Then let’s go inside,” he said, dismounting and tying the reins to a ring on the stone wall.
The courier noted the condition of the place on the way to the front door. The expression on his face said that he recognized that it had seen better days. But he said nothing.
The courier stopped in the foyer. Elitheris and Ruby were there. He opened up his satchel, and pulled out a scroll. He unrolled it, and started reading.
“I, Baroness Kyran Bethany Alanna Walters, hereby grant land use rights of Vesten Manor to Almë, son of Callion and Eluwen, Eykit Hykkisi, and Taid Tehoredor Lasu, contingent upon their oaths of fealty to me. The Commendation Ceremony will be held on Starsday, Harvest 37th, at 12 bells, in the Featherstone Amphitheater.”
He then rolled up the scroll, saying, “And be there an hour or two early. You’ll be assisted on what to expect and how to respond.” Then he left.
“We got ourselves a fucking manor!” Eykit said.
“Woo hoo!” Almë cried. Considering how much work he was going to be doing, Eykit was a bit surprised at how excited he was. But if he’s into twelve hour days casting spells one after another, so be it.
“Contingent upon our oaths of fealty,” Eykit mused. “What does that mean? Because I am already committed to a guild! Does this mean that I—I don’t even know what this means!” He was agitated, and worried that he might be betraying some sacred oath or something. He was young, and ignorant about how these ‘noble’ things worked.
“It’s an oath that you acknowledge her lordship, and you are a vassal.”
The Feudal contract was a two-way street: the vassal vows loyalty, but so does the liege. At least, that is the way it’s supposed to work. In theory. In practice, well, people were people, and many didn’t fulfill their obligations if they could get out of them.
The Commendation Ceremony was five days away. At the Citadel, at sunset.
“Ruby,” Eykit asked, “have you gone through one of these things? Do you know what it’s all about?”
“Yes.” She could tell that Eykit was agitated and scared shitless. This kind of public acknowledgement really terrified him.
Almë added, “Eykit, you should have thought about that earlier!”
“I thought we’d just be handed an envelope, and they’d go ‘thank you for playing!’ Is everyone in town going to suddenly know who I am? Because that could be a problem.”
“Only the nobles will know, plus whatever audience is there. And the nobles might forget you as soon as you leave their sight.”
“Okay, I can no longer do a job in the wealthy areas.”
“Maybe you can do better jobs now,” Ruby said.
“No, I cannot. My jobs involve petty theft!”
“Yeah, but maybe you can now go to noble areas and do things.”
“Just another peer, just like you guys, don’t mind me while I take your hard won inherited goods that were passed down from generation to generation. Mine now, thanks! I will take good care of them.”
Ruby explained how the oath of commendation worked. One person swears to honor and follow the other, and vice versa. It was more complicated than that, but boiled down, it really was that simple. It was like forming an alliance, between a small country and a much larger one.
“I gotta talk to the Iceman,” Eykit said. “All this fealty stuff is great and all, but my number one loyalty is not to her.”
It’s possible that Eykit could step back from this, but now the Baroness’ knew him.
Eykit pretty much ran all the way back to New Square Skulls territory, nearly flying through the doors of the Pig’s In His Cups tavern. “I gotta talk to Iceman!” he said to the first Skull he saw. He was directed to a restaurant down the street. He burst in, wild-eyed and sweating from exertion. He’d left his mail shirt at the manor. He’d needed speed.
Jakkit stood up immediately when he saw Eykit. “Come with me,” he motioned to his underling, and they went into a private dining room. Toren Ghent, Guildmaster of the New Square Skulls, was there, eating dinner.
Toren looked up from his plate of grilled meat and vegetables, and saw the expression on Eykit’s young face. He cocked his head, and said, “I think I may know what this is about.”
Then he set his fork and knife down, moved his plate aside, and took a sip of wine. “So what can I do for you today?”
“So, I’m about to become landed gentry. Being as I’m, you know, unschooled and have no idea what this means…?”
Toren nodded. “Did it mention anything about an expansion of your status?”
“No, not really.”
“Or to become a Peer of the Realm?”
“Yeah, uh, no, it didn’t come up until two days ago. And I actually kind of thought we’d be turned down, so I didn’t think anything of it. I figured that it wouldn’t be an issue because we’re a bunch of idiots!”
Toren laughed and pounded the table, and Jakkit chuckled, unsuccessfully hiding his amusement. Toren said around his laughs, “Thank you, I needed that.”
“There was no way the baroness would let us have that place! We have a berserking Elf hedge mage, a barely out of adolescence Goblin thief, an incurably honest clanking Dwarf, and a traumatized Elf huntress. Who would have thought we would have been granted a whole freaking estate? Not me!”
“Congratulations, then.” Toren seemed amused by the whole situation.
“I don’t know if that’s really in order.” Eykit was practically hyperventilating, his words coming out faster than normal, and normal for a Goblin was pretty fast. Maybe it was their relatively short lives, but they tended to try to get as many words as possible in edgewise as they could.
“I thought I was getting a room of my own where I didn’t need to share it with four other guys. That’s what I thought I was getting.”
“Apparently, you’re getting a lot more than that.”
“Eeyeah. What do I do? What do I do?” The words ran together, sounding more like “whaddooidoo.”
Toren leaned back, a little smile on his face. “You accept it, of course.”
“Okay. That’s it?”
“Yeah. Unless it interferes with what you are doing for us.”
“Yeah, I don’t want it to. That’s the thing. How do I make sure that it doesn’t?”
“You just don’t do anything that interferes with what we’re doing.” Eykit still looked flustered.
“Okay,” Toren said soothingly. “Calm down. Slow down. Breathe. Count to ten.”
“Okay. Give me a minute.” Eykit breathed deep breaths, trying to calm down. He could feel his heart beating, not only in his chest, but in his ears and fingers.
“There are plenty of rich and powerful people that work with thieves’ guilds all the time. So it’s not an either/or situation.”
“Wait. You’re serious.”
“Yes. Did you think that the politicians were honest?”
“Well, I just kind of thought we were fighting against each other.”
Toren gave one of his little smiles again, but shook his head. “There’s a little bit of that, true, but we also have alliances and we also fight with each other.”
“Okay. I kind of always thought we were scrambling from the bottom.”
“Well, in a way, we kind of are, but not always. You have to remember where the thieves’ guilds came from. Citizen’s protection agencies. We’re here because the city doesn’t protect the people. That’s our job.” He smirked. “We also have other jobs, too, but protecting the locals is where we came from. Why do you think you are called a ‘street soldier’?”
He paused a moment. “Do you think the City Guard prevents crime? No. That’s us. We prevent crime in our area.”
“I know first hand that the City Guard perpetrates more crimes than they stop.”
“Ah, you noticed that, did you?”
“Yah. Been on the receiving end of that.”
“We all have, to a certain extent, yes. There is a reason why there is a… bribe budget in the ledger.”
He sipped his wine. “Don’t worry about it.”
“So it’s not the end of the world?”
“No. Most likely, she’s not going to have you do very much for her anyway. Except run the manor to the best of your ability and to make some money for her, hopefully sooner rather than later. Anything else, and she has people for that. People she trusts who can get those things done, and done well.”
Eykit was starting to feel less anxious. “Okay,” he said.
“The sooner you can pay taxes on it, the happier she’ll be. And she’ll probably leave you alone unless she finds out you’re incompetent.” He gave Eykit a look. “Are you guys incompetent?”
“No?” Eykit said, in a small voice. It sounded more like a question than a statement.
Toren grinned. “Then you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I had panicked and ran here.”
“And I commend you for that. Thank you for thinking about us.”
“You took me in when I was just a wee young mite of a Goblin and pretty much made me what I am today. And I am fully one hundred percent loyal to you. I hope you know that.”
“That’s good to know, thank you.”
“I wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize what I have with you. Ever.”
The guildmaster leaned forward a little. “You sure you don’t want to be my diplomat?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“You figure out alliances, defuse bad situations, things of that sort.”
“I’m willing to learn. I’m really…you know what I am.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I mean, I can learn, I just don’t know what it is you want.”
“Okay. You’ll shadow me for while, you’ll learn.”
“You got it. Whatever you want, boss. As long as I have your blessing.”
“Oh yeah. What is happening to you is a good thing. We can use that.”
He sipped his wine.
Eykit felt a lot better.
Rewards Granted
3 CP
Potentially, a Manor
Report Date
10 Jun 2023
Primary Location
Secondary Location
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