"Fair point," Ben conceded, reaching over to pour himself a drink from the large pitcher. The group watched in silence, though Benjamin raised an eyebrow at the casual familiarity.
"So, what''s the story?" Ben asked them.
Earl began recounting the story of how Roxanne set them up with Richard as guards on his way to Valewater. Skimming over some details until he got to the part about the merchant outside of Disceroa. At that point he started to exaggerate the tale a bit more, causing Ben and the women to laugh.
During the retelling, Benjamin excused himself from the table with the woman who was interested in him. He wasn''t interested in listening to the story one more time.
30 – Road to Valewater III
Disceroa, 28th of Rainwane, year 179 BN
As Richard stood outside the tavern, his attention was drawn to the bustling street life of Disceroa. However, unlike in Evergreen, women were present on the streets, albeit with their heads covered by cloths. The few women he saw with uncovered heads had their hair neatly braided, a cultural or fashion detail that piqued Richard''s curiosity. Could it be a marital indicator, or simply a local trend? He filed the observation away as a cultural note to explore further.
What truly captured his interest, however, were the makeshift stalls lining the road. The term ''road'' was generous, as it was little more than a flattened dirt path. Yet, it was alive with activity. Vendors at their simple wooden setups shouted prices, beckoning passersby to examine their wares.
Among the various items on sale, iron utensils and cookware stood out to Richard. This sparked an idea. He had no desire to delve into crafting long-term, but the opportunity in quality cookware was evident. He recalled how even Roxanne''s kitchen in Evergreen lacked efficient and durable cooking tools.
Pulling out a piece of folded paper, ink, and a pen from the carriage, Richard began to jot down his thoughts. He wrote ''cookware'' and ''blacksmiths to hire'' at the top of his list. While he was aware that his designs could eventually be replicated by other blacksmiths, he recognized the advantage of being the first to market. With simple eating and cooking tools, the barrier to entry for copying was low, but initial market capture could be significant.
Swords and fine weaponry involved a level of craftsmanship that was hard to replicate without skill and experience, but cookware was a different matter. With some experimentation, any competent blacksmith could produce functional items. However, Richard''s edge lay in introducing and establishing his products first, setting a standard for quality.
Introducing quality knives, forks, and spoons would do not only this city but all other cities well. As of now, most people eat with their hands or a spoon, with meat being cut up with large knives. Ordinary citizens didn''t have their own knives, that was also something Richard suddenly realized as he was out here observing the people of Disceroa.
Richard''s gaze drifted to several stalls offering an assortment of foods, including dried meats, fruits, and grains. He chose not to approach, instead opting to observe and listen from a distance. The prices for fruits and grains in Disceroa were noticeably higher than in Evergreen, marked up by two bronze tales. It was clear to him that these stalls weren''t attracting many customers.
He pondered over the grain he had brought with him. In this market, it seemed unlikely to fetch a profitable price. His best bet would be to transport it to the next town, where demand might be higher. Selling it in Disceroa now, even at a lower price, wouldn''t yield much gain. He decided to reserve it for the return trip, should he fail to find a better market elsewhere.
Among the various vendors, one particular merchant caught Richard''s attention. The man, young and clean-shaven like himself, stood confidently in front of two wagons, guarded by a pair of watchful men in leather armor with swords at their sides. Richard noted the steady flow of customers approaching his stall.
The young merchant was selling an intriguing mix: Dragon''s Pepper, a spice unknown to Richard, along with salt, willowbark, and feverfew. The steady line of customers meant there was a strong demand for these items. Curiosity piqued, Richard decided to engage the merchant directly. Leaving Dave, his verlpax, to its leisure, he made his way towards the stall.
He felt good about the safety of his own merchandise, concealed in a hidden compartment in the back of the carriage. Unless one knew exactly where to look, the items were safe from prying eyes.
"What can I get for you? I''ve got exotic spices from Thartian, rare healing herbs from Ghorth, and," the young merchant leaned in conspiratorially towards Richard, his hand half-covering his mouth, "I even have blue silk from Kraven."
Richard''s interest piqued, not at the mention of silk, but the spices and herbs. He positioned himself to the side of the stall, careful not to obstruct other customers ¨C mostly individuals in moderately fine attire, neither impoverished nor exceedingly wealthy.
"I''m curious about your spices. What varieties do you have?" Richard inquired, showing genuine interest.
"The prized item here is Dragon Pepper," the merchant replied with a hint of enthusiasm. "It''s so fiery, you might find yourself craving the entire Nortian Ocean to quench the heat. But beware, a little goes a long way. Too much, and you''re in for quite an... experience."
Richard examined the Dragon Pepper, noting its striking appearance: ebony black with a crimson stem. It reminded him of the hot peppers from his previous world, albeit with a unique twist. He observed several customers, particularly women, purchasing the pepper for six bronze tales each ¨C a price point that was accessible to most.
His gaze then shifted to another item drawing attention. A bundle of thin, hollow wooden sticks bound tightly with rope caught his eye. Counting quickly, he noted there were five sticks in each bundle.
"Ahh, you''re looking at the willowbark," the merchant noted, following Richard''s gaze. "It''s a reliable pain reliever. But if you''re seeking something more potent, this Feverfew might interest you." He held up a small wooden cup filled with greenish-brown leaves. The herb''s appearance was reminiscent of marijuana, Richard thought, though its medicinal properties were clearly different.
Richard extended his hand in greeting. "I couldn''t help but notice the steady stream of customers at your stall. These Dragon peppers seem particularly popular. What sort of dishes does it go well with?"
The young merchant appeared comfortable with Richard¡¯s question, appreciating the break in his routine as the locals already seemed well-acquainted with his offerings. "As I mentioned, the pepper adds quite a kick. It''s commonly used in rice for an extra zing, or in stews ¡ª that''s a favorite around here. Dragon stew, they call it, famous in the local inns for its rich, intense flavor. Works well with meat, too, and a bit of salt enhances the taste further."
Richard nodded thoughtfully, already envisioning how he might introduce new dishes like chili using these peppers, especially during the colder months. The idea of selling a novel dish at a premium price lingered enticingly in his mind.
"Any chance you stock something on the sweeter side?" Richard asked, shifting the topic slightly.
The merchant shook his head, a hint of regret in his tone. "I wish I did. The closest I had were sweet potatoes from Ghorth, but I sold them all before even reaching here."
"That means the areas you traveled through dont have much sweets? Or atleast sweet potatoes." Richard probed further. It would be nice if he could get a semblance of understanding about the broader market.
"Exactly," the merchant confirmed. "Places like Serthroian and Heatherhill had terrible harvests this year. I sold out of everything well before leaving Serthroian lands."
"Any idea what happened?" Richard asked, his interest piqued.
"Rumors say locusts devastated the crops. I can''t confirm it personally since I didn''t encounter any on my journey, but that''s the word going around," the merchant replied.
Nodding his head Richard was glad to see some things haven''t changed even in this new world he found himself in.
"Well, I''ve got something you might be interested in," Richard offered. "Delhar fruit, straight from Evergreen. It''s not a sweet potato, but it''s definitely special."
"Delhar? From Evergreen?" The young merchant''s eyes widened in surprise. "I''ve heard of it, but... Evergreen? Isn''t that place notorious for its monster tides?"
Richard nodded, a light chuckle escaping him. "That''s right. I left shortly after the last tide."
The merchant whistled appreciatively. "Brave of you. My father always said Evergreen was too dangerous. Where are you headed?"
"Valewater. I''m on a supply run before heading back," Richard explained.
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The merchant''s eyebrows shot up. "Going back? To Evergreen? If it''s thrills you''re after, why not head south to Brecilian? They¡¯re dealing with an infestation of rock-chewing bugs. Dangerous, but there''s profit in it if that''s what you''re looking for. Heard their shells might tough and the lord there is paying for any you can collect."
Richard took note of this and crossed that place off of his cities to visit. He honestly didn''t know where it was, he''d have to look at his map to see. He''s only been studying the area''s around Evergreen, not anything too far south or west. "I prefer starting with familiar territory," he said. "I know a little about Evergreen, and that counts for something. Better than starting in places I''m unfamiliar with."
"I get that, but man, you''re gutsy. What, did it take you eight, nine days to get here? Unless you took the river route, maybe three or four?"
Richard''s laugh was light and genuine. "Actually, just a day."
The merchant''s laugh joined his, incredulous. "A day? What, do you have some flying beast or something?"
Richard gestured towards Dave, his verlpax, still harnessed to the carriage. The creature looked disinterested, drooping amidst the wary stares and whispers of passersby. "Not flying, but fast. That''s my verlpax. Surprised they''re not more common around these parts."
"Yeah, that''s a first for me," the merchant admitted, eyeing Dave curiously. "A verlpax, huh? That thing must''ve cost a fortune." He began to eye Richard up and down for a moment, not sensing anything special about him. It was a bit odd for Richard to have a verlpax with the way he was dressed that''s for sure.
Richard observed the merchant''s glance at his verlpax and carriage. He knew the sight was something to see, even now people kept taking glances at it. Richard in no sense looked the part of a noble or well-known trader. His average attire made him seem like a common person, however, he owned a creature and a vehicle that were rarities in these parts.
The merchant''s curiosity shifted to the carriage. "That''s quite the setup. What is that, some kind of advanced wagon?"
Richard nodded, looking over at his carriage. "Yes, it''s specially designed for ease of travel. The verlpax is the real star, but the carriage itself is a game changer compared to traditional wagons. Also," Richard glanced at the merchant''s own wagons. "Don''t have to haul my own goods."
The merchant chuckled, "Must be nice not to haul your own cargo. Evergreen sell those?"
Richard replied with a hint of playfulness, "For the right price, I might consider it."
The merchant leaned in. "And how much would that be? Five, six gold tales?"
Richard gave a half-smile. "Try fifteen. It''s unique, after all. Worth every tale."
The merchant shook his head, weighing the investment. For that price he could buy a lot more than a single carriage, he could buy a small boat. Take it up and down the Valewater river to transport his goods. "Tempting, but I think I''ll pass. But let''s talk about those Delhar fruits. What''s your price?"
Richard only paid six bronze tales per Delhar, and that was because there were a lot of them in Evergreen. The fruit was common there, so common that ordinary people could afford it after a few days of work. As a specialty item, it should have been sold for more, but the demand for such fruit wasn''t high, and there were no travelers going to the city. Nor was there anyone exporting the fruit out, so the prices continued to drop.
Selling it for ten bronze would net Richard four bronze tales, a decent amount considering he had thirty of them on hand. Big Oar and the others wanted to eat them, but he told them those were off-limits if they wanted to be paid for their services. So, the fruit was left alone.
Thirty of them with four bronze tales in profit, Richard would net himself a hundred-twenty bronze tales or just a bit over one silver. But, he learned that this young man hadn''t been to Evergreen so he didn''t know the price of the fruit.
He had to set it to an amount that was reasonable, but not too low. Ten bronze coins might seem just right, but Richard figured he could squeeze out a bit more.
"Fifteen bronze tales each."
The merchant, intrigued yet cautious, hesitated. "Fifteen bronze tales each is a bit steep for something I''m not sure will sell."
Sensing the merchant''s hesitation, Richard formulated a plan to entice him. "I understand your concern. How about this? I''ll sell you the first one at half price ¨C just seven bronze tales. If you like it and think it''ll sell, we can stick to the original price of fifteen for the rest."
The merchant''s eyes lit up at the proposal, a calculated risk now seeming more appealing. "Sounds good. I''ll take you up on that offer."
In his eyes this was a steal. He''s never had Delhar for himself because it was only grown in Evergreen. He didn''t have to pay full price and would be able to judge the quality of the fruit. As long as it suited his tasted he would be able to sell it, the problem would be finding customers willing to fork over the amount he''d ask for. He had to sell it higher than fifteen bronze tales if he wanted to make a profit, anything less and he''d be losing money.
Richard excused himself briefly, walking back to his carriage hidden from the merchant¡¯s view. He discreetly opened the hidden compartment and carefully selected one of the watermelon-sized Delhar fruits. Its unique blue-green skin still struck him as unusual, yet he knew its taste was exceptional.
Returning to the stall, Richard presented the fruit. The merchant observed it with interest before handing over seven bronze tales from a pouch at his side. He instructed his guard to peel the fruit, revealing the vibrant ocean-blue flesh inside. Richard couldn¡¯t help but salivate at the sight, a vivid reminder of the fruit¡¯s delightful flavor.
The guard, looking at it, sliced off a small piece and tasted it. His eyes brightened instantly.
Encouraged by his guard¡¯s reaction, the merchant himself sampled a piece. "Oh, this is good. Very good. Fifteen bronze tales each, then?" He double-checked, already calculating the profit potential in his mind. Even if Richard raised the price slightly, the merchant saw a lucrative opportunity to sell the fruit to Thartian¡¯s rich. This fruit would go for double the price he was paying now, he was sure of it.
Richard noticed his reaction and eagerness to buy the fruit. Fifteen tales might have been too low considering their reaction, but it was already more than double what he paid for it back in Evergreen. Should he offload all of the fruit here or save some for the next town? There was no telling what was in store at Suncrest and Valewater. Those places might have their own fruits for sale, and the Delhar while unique wouldn''t be anything too special.
It was a gamble, but Richard decided to sell as many of them as he could here to this young man.
"Yes, that''s the price. How many are you interested in?" Richard asked, his tone businesslike.
"How many do you have left?" The merchant inquired, eager to secure more of the exotic fruit.
"Twenty-nine, in total. That would be four silver and thirty-five bronze tales altogether," Richard calculated quickly. It was one thing he was good at besides crafting. He never considered himself a mathematician, but he was decent enough.
The young merchant whistled at Richard''s rapid calculation. He was quick, but not that fast. In fact, he had to use his abacus to be sure the amount was correct, which took him quite a bit of time. Most of the time he kept it under his stall for any major deals, but this was the first time today he''s had to use it. "Thartian have mercy," he exclaimed, his fingers deftly moving beads on his abacus to verify the sum. "How did you work that out so fast?"
Richard picked up on the phrase, mentally noting it as a religious reference, something he hadn''t encountered much in his time here. Evergreen, didnt seem to have any churchs and hes not once seen someone pray. But then again, he had yet to explore all of the city.
"Are you wondering about the calculation?" Richard asked.
"Yeah, exactly! I''ve never seen anyone figure numbers that quickly without an abacus," Erik said, pointing to the counting tool on his stall.
Richard realized his quick arithmetic might appear unusual here. "I''ve always had a knack for numbers," he explained, offering a modest smile. "It''s just something I''m good at."
Erik nodded, impressed. "I didn¡¯t catch your name earlier."
"I¡¯m Richard," he replied, extending his hand.
Erik regarded Richard''s hand briefly before clasping it in his own. "Erik. If you ever find yourself in Thartian, look me up. I''ll give you the grand tour. The women there... they''re something else."
Richard chuckled. "And if you''re in Evergreen, I¡¯ll return the favor. Though I can¡¯t promise the same about the women."
Erik laughed, taking Richard''s comment in stride. "If these Delhar fruits sell well in Thartian, I might just take you up on that. But Evergreen? That¡¯s a risk I''m not keen on taking. How about meeting back here instead?"
Richard nodded a little glad Erik wasn''t going to Evergreen. If that were truly the case then he could just buy the fruit for as cheap as Richard.
Richard nodded, relieved in a way that Erik wasn¡¯t planning a trip to Evergreen ¨C it would keep his source for cheap Delhar secure. "Sounds like a plan."
"I usually come here twice a year, once in Rainwane and again in Leafall." Erik said.
As their conversation progressed, Richard found himself learning more about Thartian from Erik. One intriguing detail was about a local delicacy called Tres, mushrooms that made you feel like you were flying. Erik explained they were particularly popular among Thartian''s elite, often featured at lavish parties.
Though Erik offered to bring some on their next encounter, Richard politely declined. He wasn¡¯t interested in drugs, even if they might find a market in Evergreen.
Their discussion then veered towards the specialties of Disceroa. Erik mentioned Ice fish, a local favorite sold for just three bronze tales each. They were a bargain but required careful handling due to their quick spoilage ¨C not ideal for Richard''s extended travels. However, he made a mental note to possibly purchase some on his return to Evergreen.
Besides that, Disceroa also sold fine linen at a rate cheaper than the rest of the places in this region. Although Erik swore that Kraven had the best silk and linen if he was interested in buying that. All in all, Richard felt that he didn''t lose anything by chatting with Erik and even managed to sell some of his goods.
For his first ''major'' trade, he''d call it a success. What mattered is how he went forward with his newfound knowledge.
After parting ways with Erik, Richard retreated to his carriage, not to the tavern. He needed time to jot down everything he had learned. He briefly wondered about Erik''s departure schedule; maybe he could have arranged more Delhar sales in the future. But banking on one buyer wasn¡¯t wise ¨C expanding his customer base was crucial.
It sucked that he didn''t learn anything about Valewater, but with news of Suncrest being at war Richard planned on avoiding that city. It was the next on his list of towns to visit, but that was no longer the case. He''d rather not get caught up in a siege or raid. Worse, someone might try to take his carriage and verlpax.
For the next few days, Richard decided to remain in Disceroa. He hoped to find something valuable to bring back to Evergreen, other than Ice fish, which were impractical for his journey.
31 – Road to Valewater IV
Disceroa, 30th of Rainwane, year 179 BN
Richard sat at the wooden counter in the bar with his mug full of water. His eyes seemed unfocused as he stared down at his mug with his index finger going around the brim of the wooden mug.
"What''s troubling you?" inquired a familiar voice, snapping Richard out of his reverie.
Richard glanced up and spotted the old man who ran this tavern here in Disceroa. He was bald with dark skin and a graying beard that Richard would have sworn had crumbs in it. His name was Tom, and Richard only talked to him a couple of times but from what he could tell the man was pretty chill. Tom enjoyed talking to his customers, even if they were speaking nonsense while drunk.
"Huh? Oh, nothing," Richard replied, slightly startled by Tom''s sudden appearance.
Tom, who was busy cleaning an empty mug, gave Richard a skeptical look. "Where''s your towering friend? He''s usually hard to miss," he remarked, referring to Big Oar.
Richard turned, realizing that Big Oar and his companions were nowhere in sight. He thought they were here because this was the first place they came early in the morning. Benjamin was outside laying in the carriage because someone tried to steal it and his verlpax yesterday night.
The whole situation was a mess as a bunch of kids, teens actually tried to mount Dave while he was sleeping and run off with the carriage. What they didn''t know was that one, Richard and Benjamin were both sleeping in the carriage, and two, verlpax''s had terrible sight at night. Dave didn''t want to budge an inch because it was probably so dark in his eyes that he couldn''t even tell where the ground was.
The teens ran off when Benjamin came out, but he managed to catch one of them. The man beat the kid so hard his face started to turn purple.
"No idea, kind of thought they''d be here if I''m being honest. Why do you ask?" Richard asked Tom.
Tom gave a nonchalant shrug. "Just noticed them hanging around Ben lately. Your group''s been alright by me, no trouble or anything. Heard you might be moving on soon?"
Richard nodded at that, as they were planning on leaving in two days. Since he''s been here for a couple of days already he gained some valuable information about Disceroa. Yes, Lumber was in high demand here, but so were stone, blacksmiths, and bakers. The reason why the town lacked stone was due to them not having any mines within the region. They were in a similar situation to Evergreen.
The quality of blacksmithing in Disceroa was another matter. The human smiths here, though diligent, couldn''t match the finesse of dwarf craftsmanship. Their work wasn''t great, necessitating greater quantities of ore to achieve what a dwarf smith might with less. This inefficiency led to Lord Luke imposing strict regulations on blacksmith resources, inadvertently causing many to leave the town in search of better opportunities.
The situation with the bakers puzzled Richard. The market for baked goods seemed underdeveloped, lacking enough profit margin to attract more practitioners.
"In a couple of days," Richard replied, gesturing vaguely northeastward. "We''re heading to Valewater."
Tom acknowledged with a nod. "Might be wise to hold off. There''s talk of skirmishes near the border. Though," he added with a noncommittal shrug, "it''s hard to say when the fighting will let up."
"You happen to know where exactly? If so, I could just bypass the area."
Tom shook his head, his expression serious. "Can''t pinpoint it, but I''d advise against heading north from here. It''s too risky for a group like yours."
Richard raised his eyebrow at this remark. "What do you mean?"
Tom paused his cleaning, placing the mug on the counter. "You''re a trader, right? Erik was talking about a newcomer matching your description. And you''ve been seen making the rounds at the local shops. Carrying any sort of merchandise would paint a target on your back¡ªfleeing civilians, bandits, and even armies might see you as a ripe opportunity for plunder."
He shrugged again, a gesture that seemed to punctuate his cautionary words. "Just something to consider."
Richard nodded slowly. "Kind of have some items to get there, and have business back home in Evergreen," Richard explained.
The prospect of waiting out the border skirmishes in Disceroa was far from appealing, especially with the uncertainty of their duration. With the technological constraints of the era, conflicts could drag on indefinitely. And while Richard was still refining his trade strategies, efficiency remained a priority.
He contemplated a trading loop that could maximize his profits and efficiency. Starting with lumber¡ªeither sourced from Evergreen or elsewhere¡ªhe could bring it to Disceroa, exchange it for Ice Fish or another commodity in demand, and continue this pattern through Suncrest and Valewater, each step carefully planned to ensure he always had goods to trade. However, Richard was well aware that reality often diverged from such idealized plans.
Understanding Evergreen''s needs and its shortage of traders put Richard in a unique position to dictate market prices, provided he could secure a reliable supply of essentials like food and beer at competitive rates. Roxanne had hinted at Valewater being a resource-rich destination, and with their travel speed, Richard estimated a journey time of just over a week to Valewater, barring any stops for trade or information gathering.
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To avoid overtaxing Dave, his verlpax, Richard knew they couldn''t rush the journey. Thus, he needed to identify goods that Valewater lacked, ensuring he had valuable cargo to trade on arrival. Additionally, since their route back to Evergreen passed through Disceroa, it made sense to consider Disceroa not just as a stopover but as a midpoint. By transporting items from Evergreen to Disceroa, and then from Valewater back to Disceroa, Richard could establish a profitable trade route that benefited from each leg of their journey.
With the goal of hiring other people to do this loop for him at a set price, while he himself manages other affairs.
What he had to do was find a reliable merchant here in Disceroa that would be able to give him a steady supply of items he''d need. But so far, he hasn''t had such luck.
"To each their own, just be careful."
Richard appreciated Tom''s parting advice with a nod. "Thanks," he responded, his mind already turning over the new information. "You wouldn''t happen to know anything about Valewater, would you?"
"I''ve never been myself," Tom admitted, wiping down the counter with a practiced hand. "But Mitch over at the port might have the insights you''re looking for. He''s there often enough and knows a thing or two that could help. Mitch is hard to miss, just look for the largest man there, if that doesn''t help he has a birthmark on his face that''ll shake you."
Appreciate it. I''ll seek him out," Richard said.
"Might cost you though, he doesn''t do anything for free." Tom said.
Acknowledging the tip, Richard offered a gesture of goodwill. "When I swing by Disceroa next, I''ll bring a Delhar fruit for you. On the house."
Tom''s laughter filled the space between them, a sound of genuine amusement. "That''d be a day to remember. Haven''t tasted a Delhar in years. Hard to believe anything from Evergreen could make it out, all things considered." His tone turned serious as he leveled a final piece of advice at Richard. "Just watch out for Ben and his plots. He''s got a knack for drawing folks into his schemes."
...
Disceroa, 30th of Rainwane, year 179 BN
As they strolled through the bustling streets of Disceroa, the laughter of Carl, Earl, Big Oar, and Ben merged with the voices in the marketplace. Evergreen wasn''t like this, they knew it. It felt like this was where they belonged, and the first night they came here already showed great promise. The nights that followed slowed down a bit, but Disceroa was a town worth staying in.
"We''ve been through a lot of shit, haven''t we?" Ben remarked, a knowing smile playing on his lips, as his eyes scanned the stalls coming up.
"Yeah, we have," Earl agreed. "So, what are you up to these days, Ben?"
Ben chuckled, he snagged an apple off one of the trader''s stalls when the man wasn''t looking. It was quick, much better than what the three of them were used to seeing from their old friend. "I''m not up to anything specific," he said smoothly before taking a bite out of the red apple he snatched. "Just a bit of this and that. Taking whatever work pops up."
Carl wasn''t satisfied with the answer they received. "Just this and that, huh? Sounds like you''re keeping busy."
Ben smiled and handed the apple he took a bite out of to a random child on the street. It was unexpected, but the child in their brown shirt took the apple in stride.
"What about you guys? Said you came here with a merchant, how''s it been?" Ben asked as he turned to face them while walking backward.
Big Oar shrugged, "Been alright so far. Not sure if he''s a merchant or blacksmith though."
Ben raised an eyebrow, "A blacksmith, you say? Why''d you think that?"
Earl scratched his head, recalling something from a while back. "Roxanne mentioned it a while back. He has a workshop and everything, never seen him sell anything though."
"Made that carriage," Carl chimed in to the conversation.
"Ahh yeah, I''ve seen that thing outside the tavern. And that verlpax," Ben whistled at that. "That thing something else, that''s for sure. Never heard of a blacksmith being able to afford one. Especially one in Evergreen."
Big Oar glanced at Ben. "Not sure what you''re trying to ask, but none of us here know how he managed that. The carriage, that''s been helpful for travel. Turned a five, six day walk into one day."
Ben rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "And what do you make of Richard? Seems like he''s got you lot doing alright for yourselves."
Carl nodded. "He''s alright I guess. Hired us as guards and has been paying us daily."
"Better than working on the farm, that''s for sure," Earl said with a light laughter.
Ben joined him. "Interested in earning more?"
The question caught them slightly off guard. Ben was always one to plot something, they knew that but so far they''ve just been catching up on the past. Reliving their old memories as if they were still young men.
"We''re listening," Carl said as he spoke up before anyone else.
Ben smiled and turned around as he signaled them to follow him. They chatted about everything but more ways to earn money. This continued until they reached the port, and the sight was something. Wooden ships of various sizes were anchored, some modest and others imposing, all bustling with activity. The air was thick with the scent of salt and sweat, underscored by the shouts of foremen orchestrating the loading of goods and, notably, people.
Individuals were being herded like sheep onto the ships under the crack of whips and the weight of chains. They were used to seeing such a sight, in Evergreen people had slaves as well and kept them in various conditions. Being chained and beaten was just one of the worse treatments for slaves here.
Among the laborers, a group of individuals stood out markedly. Their delicate features, blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes, framed by subtly pointed ears, drew involuntary attention. They were elves, unmistakably beautiful, yet chained and wore a look of pain.
Ben, seemingly unfazed by the scene, spread his arms wide as if to embrace the entirety of the port. Inhaling deeply, he presented the harbor to his companions with a grand gesture. "This right here, this is the port of Disceroa."
Seeing that the others weren''t giving him a response, Ben shook his head. "You know," he began, his voice taking on a serious tone, "in a way, we''re not so different from them." He gestured towards the laborers with a sweep of his hand. "We toil at someone else''s command. The key difference? They don''t get paid, they work without choice, no tales in sight, and bound by chains."
Ben''s attention shifted as he pointed to a ship where a tall, imposing man was harshly disciplining a slave. "That''s Fuller," Ben said, his voice laced with disdain. "A cruel bastard, but he''s open to... negotiations for the right price. Wouldn''t think twice about acquiring ''misplaced'' goods."
"What are you thinking Ben?" Carl asked.
"Just wondering, why keep working for Richard when you can start over here? Think about it, no one''s ever gave us shit in Evergreen. Hell, no one''s ever given me anything here either, but I made a place for myself." Ben paused to look them over one at a time. "The verlpax, the carriage, and all its goods could fetch a high price here. Verlpax''s are rare in Disceroa, not too many breeders you see. And that carriage? Well, shit, that thing one of a kind. Those nobles would sell their own kin to own that thing. Imagine what we could do with that much money."
32 – Road to Valewater V
Disceroa, 31th of Rainwane, year 179 BN
Big Oar reclined casually, his boots resting on the table, as he leaned back in his chair with arms folded behind his head, eyes tracing the patterns on the wooden ceiling above. The conversation with Ben from the day prior lingered in his thoughts. He had to admit, it was tempting. Selling off Richard''s possessions could net them a hefty sum, twenty, maybe thirty gold tales¡ªenough to secure a comfortable future.
Sure, people thought he was an idiot. In hindsight, he might be but he knew that splitting that much tale between the four of them meant he''d only be able to do so much. A lot more than he was able to now, but was it enough?
He didn''t know the exact amount, twenty split between the four of them was what? Five? Was it five? Big Oar started counting on his hand behind his head out of sight from the others. Yeah, it was five.
Five gold tales each, that is what they''d get if all of Richard''s stuff went for that much. From twenty all the way down to five, was that worth it?
It fell into line with what they were thinking before when they planned on robbing him. That was so long ago now that it didn''t really matter at this point. Still, the thought did cross their minds back then, but Richard was always busy and away from his workshop that things just never fell into place.
But then again, this was Ben. He''s been through more stuff with Big Oar than Richard would ever, and that meant something.
"What are you thinking, Big Oar?" Earl''s voice broke his contemplation.
"Don''t know yet," Big Oar responded truthfully, his gaze still fixed aloft as he wrestled with his thoughts.
"What''s there to think about? We were going to rob him anyway, so what''s changed?" Carl''s interjection was blunt, his dirty blonde hair brushing the nape of his neck as he leaned in.
Big Oar considered Carl''s point, feeling the weight of his gaze. "Nothing''s changed," he finally admitted.
"Well, we are guards now," Earl pointed out.
"Yes, we are, but like Big Oar said a few days ago, do we want to put all our hopes on Richard? I mean, what do we really know about the guy?" Carl said. "We''ve got history with Ben, though. Despite the years, he hasn''t changed much in my eyes. Just think of the possibilities that kind of money could open up for us."
Earl joked a little, "I can already see you throwing tales at Betty, hoping she''ll come running back. But remember, once those tales dry up, she''ll vanish just as quickly." The table fell into an awkward silence, as Carl looked at Earl with an expression asking if he was serious. The only laughter that could be heard coming from their table was Earl''s.
Tapping his hand on the table, Carl looked at both his friends. "Look, this moment, right now, it''s ours for the taking. Evergreen doesn''t hold anything for us anymore. We could carve out a new life right here in Disceroa."
There was nothing back in Evergreen for him. Carl didn''t have any kids, nor a wife. His job was tending to the farm, and besides hanging out with Big Oar and Earl he chased the skirts of a few women. That''s it. His life was plain, boring even. No adventure''s like they had back when they were young.
Both of the other two were much of the same. Except Big Oar was married and had children. But, did it matter? The man frequently slept with other women in town, it was a well-known secret. Martha was always furious about it, but what could she do? Scream? Shout? It wouldn''t change who Big Oar was.
"We''ve spent our whole lives in Evergreen, and you just want to up and move here? We don''t know anything about this place, or anyone." Big Oar said before removing his legs from the table and putting all four legs on the ground with his chair. "Ben''s something, but come on, you know him just as well as I do. When have things ever went his way?"
Earl was silent at that remark. Too many times when they were younger did Ben come to them with some wild idea telling them how they could strike it big. Move out of Evergreen, or at least move up and mingle with the nobility. From making fake tales to use to buy what they needed, or stealing weapons from some blacksmiths.
Most of the ideas he had never panned out, and if they did, it usually ended up a failure with them paying the price. Especially when it was found out what they were trying to do with the fake tales. They''d have been sentenced to death if not for their young age, but that didn''t stop them from being beaten so hard none of them could walk straight for a month.
"This is different! We know Richard, we know what he has and when to strike. There''s no way we''d fail here." Earl said.
"But what do we know about Fuller? How do you know Ben won''t screw us like Sam did?" Big Oar asked.
Earl¡¯s confidence wavered, under Big Oar¡¯s scrutiny his interactions with Ben replaying in his head. "But it''s Ben," he insisted, though the conviction in his voice had diminished.
Big Oar retorted, "Five years with no word. For all we knew, Ben was gone for good."
Earl, his brows furrowed in thought, leaned back, arms crossed. "What are you saying?"
Carl, breaking his silence, voiced the concern that had been looming over them, "He''s saying that Ben''s different, we''re different. You still go chasing after Sue? I think not. What about Lisa? Passed away didn''t she? For all we know, Ben could have an angle. Sell us out to Fuller, all because the man has a debt. You know Ben''s never been one to pay."
"We all have our debts," Earl retorted. "Don¡¯t you still owe Roxanne? And you," he turned his gaze towards Big Oar, "didn¡¯t you promise Samson payment for that axe?"
Big Oar brushed off the mention with a wave of his hand, "Samson''s dead, can''t pay the guy if he ain''t alive to collect."
"How about we just drop the matter for now? Think it over after we get a few more drinks." Carl suggested. "Not like Ben''s expecting an answer right this second."
Earl let out a deep breath slightly relieved at the thought of dropping the matter. The mood took a turn for the worse, and all this serious talk was getting to him. "A drink sounds good right about now," he agreed. He needed a drink, hell maybe even five.
Big Oar, while agreeing that they could use a drink, couldn''t help but add in his two cents. "I get where you''re coming from, Carl, but let''s be real here. If we go through with this, there''s no going back. We''d have to kill Richard and Benjamin, and we''d have to split the tales we earn if things work out. But, that''s beside the point. I''ve been doing some thinking, and still am. Richard, he''s... well I don''t know what he is, we don''t know him that well. But the man''s got something going for him that none of us ever had, and that''s got to mean something. I''m not sure if sticking with him is the right decision, because he could get rid of us at any moment. But I''m also not sure about Ben either, I''ve got two sons at home, and you know Martha''s with child. My boys aren''t going to grow up in Evergreen wondering where their father went."
"Alright, Big Oar, let¡¯s hold off the doom and gloom for later. For now, drinks on me. " Carl suggested.
.....
Richard arrived at the port of Disceroa and the sight astounded him. The conditions of the slaves were terrible, many of them had arms as thin as a twig and wore thin clothing. How were they even able to stand? He witnessed them being whipped on the back and falling down for what seemed to be moving so slow. Was this how things were?
He tried not to eye anyone for too long, but he couldn''t help it when he noticed a woman with tangled blonde hair flowing down her back. Her left eye was swollen shut and her lips were bruised, but that wasn''t what caught his attention. The woman''s ears were long and pointed at the tip. Even the curvature of the ear seemed to be angled back further than what seemed possible.
Her ears weren''t overly long, but they were long enough to stick out from beneath her hair. As he took a closer look he saw there were a few other people with the same features.
Weren''t these elves? He knew that elves were popular in fiction even if he didn''t read much or watch many movies. That''s how popular they were that even he knew about them without being tied into that world much. The same could be said for dwarves, but they weren''t as famous compared to their counterparts.
No one else seemed to mind what was going on at the port, so Richard thought little of it as well. When he first came here he met a slave, thinking about it now, he never did get the man''s name. But, he helped him out and the guy was never seen again. These people though, freedom didn''t seem to be in sight for them.
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He had a strong stomach, especially from a lot of the stuff he saw back when he was a soldier fighting overseas for a cause he wasn''t sure he believed in. But this, Richard, clenched his fist as he walked by.
"Hey, you know where I can find Mitch?" Richard asked someone that was rolling a barrel on the port. The man was having a hard time it seemed because he wiped the sweat from his forehead and was breathing heavily.
"Mitch? Who''s that?" He asked.
"Big man, has a birthmark on his face." Richard got right to the point.
Recognition flashed in the worker''s eyes, followed by a quick, knowing tongue click. "Ah, that Mitch. You''ll find him by that large vessel over there," he indicated towards a ship that stood out with its dark hue, around which figures bustled, laden with goods.
"Need help with that barrel?" Richard offered, noting the man''s prior struggle.
"No, thank you!" came the brisk denial, the man''s pace quickening as though motivated by a newfound urgency to distance himself. Richard found the reaction odd but let it slide, his focus shifting to the task at hand.
Mitch was large not in the sense of having a big stomach, but tall like Big Oar. Clad in a leather vest, his muscular arms, etched with scars, were visible and imposing. As Richard drew closer, Mitch''s attention momentarily diverted from overseeing the ship''s loading, marked by the sharp snap of his whip encouraging hastier movement among the workers.
He was not the prototypical merchant Richard had half-expected. The man seemed more like a street thug than a merchant, but then again, Tom never said Mitch was a merchant did he?
Mitch ran his hands through his dark brown hair as he watched the people work to load up the ship.
Richard approached. "Mitch?" He asked just to be sure he wasn''t speaking to the wrong person.
Mitch stopped his shouting and glanced at Richard. He looked the young man before him up and down, taking in all his features. Brown skin, dark brown hair that curled, and dark brown eyes. Richard wasn''t wearing anything fancy, nor was he dressed in a way that told him he was from Disceroa. No, Richard wasn''t from these parts, so why was he here?
"My friends call me Mitch, so who are you?" He asked in an icy tone. A good portion of his face starting from under his right eye looked burned, dark, and crispy compared to his yellowish skin tone. The sight made him look even more fearsome than he already was.
"Tom at the tavern told me you might be able to help me. I''m looking for information on Valewater." Richard said as he tossed out Tom''s name hoping this might ease Mitch up a bit.
Mitch''s expression shifted slightly at the mention of Tom, a flicker of recognition¡ªor perhaps respect¡ªcrossing his features. "Tom, huh? And you''re after what exactly?"
Richard nodded, "I''m interested in the current market prices here, and potentially in Valewater. I''m looking into beer, meat, salt... really, any commodity that trades well."
Mitch''s demeanor remained unyielded, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "You should know I don''t hand out information for free. Everything has its price."
Richard, prepared for this, met Mitch''s gaze evenly. "Understood. What are we talking"
Mitch considered for a moment, then leaned in slightly. "That depends. How do you plan on getting to Valewater?"
"By land. And if all goes well, I won''t be making any unnecessary stops. I can cover ground quickly, a few days'' time to Valewater, tops." Richard replied trying not to reveal too much about his carriage or verlpax. It wasn''t a secret that he had one, but Mitch didn''t know that. He wanted to leverage his speed as best he could, knowing that it took people days to travel by land it was in Richard''s best interest to gain the curiosity of Mitch.
Mitch''s guard started to ease up a bit as his shoulders slumped. "Quickly, you say? Not many can boast that kind of speed. I take it you''re the one with that verlpax in town."
Seeing Richard''s reaction to his last remark, Mitch knew he was right. Not many people here in Disceroa had one of them, but those that did could travel from one place to another fairly quickly. Given the time Richard told him he''d make it to Valewater, it didn''t take a genius to figure out the young man had a verlpax or another creature like it.
There was no need to hide it anymore now that Mitch went out and said it. "Yeah, how''d you know?" Richard asked but then felt kind of dumb afterward. Given that Mitch and Tom knew one another, they could have talked and Dave, Richard''s verlpax could have been brought up into the conversation. After all, the beast was outside the tavern alongside his carriage where everyone could see it.
Even if that wasn''t the case, there were many other ways that Mitch could find out.
Mitch smirked, "Let''s just say I have my ways. So, now that we covered that, let''s talk payment."
Mitch turned and snapped his fingers twice before pointing at a slave carrying a basket full of fish. "You, come here."
The slave man looked at the basket, then at Mitch as if deciding what he should do. "Hand it off, and come over here." Mitch''s hand that was holding the whip lashed out. "Don''t make me tell you again."
Hearing that, the man quickly found the nearest person and passed him the basket before running over to Mitch. He didn''t speak, but Richard could sense how afraid the man was.
"Go find Ben, and tell him I know how he can repay me," Mitch said, making sure the man nodded before sending him off.
"Sorry bout that, it''s just this here is a fine opportunity for me you see," Mitch said with a smirk. It made him look creepy that''s for sure. He needed to not do that, but Richard kept his mouth shut.
"And what would that be?" Richard asked, knowing he was biting the bait that Mitch threw out.
Mitch rubbed his hands and laughed a bit. "Let''s just say I''ll be killing two birds with one stone. "I''ve been tasked with delivering an item to Valewater within a tight timeframe. Normally, I wouldn''t bother¡ªit''s out of my way, and I wasn''t planning on heading there anytime soon. But you, with your verlpax, could make the delivery for me."
Richard raised his eyebrow at that. "And what''s in it for me? Besides the information on market prices?"
Mitch leaned in, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. "Consider this a favor traded. You help me out with this, and I''ll give you the lowdown on everything you want to know¡ªbeer, meat, salt, you name it. Plus, I might throw in something extra for your troubles."
The way Mitch was speaking, Richard felt this deal was laced with some kind of illegal activity. There''s just no way someone he just met would want him to drop something off at a place he just so happened to be heading to. Mitch didn''t know him, and Richard could just run off with whatever he wanted him to take to Valewater.
But then again, no one who made something of themselves ever got anywhere doing things by the book. He was already going to Valewater, so it wasn''t like he was being asked to head in another direction. The notion of delivering the item seemed a small price to pay in return for market information. But that was just it wasn''t it, it seemed like a small price to pay. Seemed being the key word here.
"This the, don''t ask questions type of delivery I take it." Richard said more than asked. He figured that was what the slave who was here earlier was for, to get someone Mitch could trust. Mitch didn''t say it yet, but his condition would be to include whoever Ben was to his group in order to get what he wanted.
Mitch smiled at that. "You catch on fast, just know if you do this I''ll tell you more than information about the markets here and in Valewater. I''ll do you one better and introduce you to some people who''ll make your life easier, both here and there."
"And what''s this ''something extra'' you mentioned?" Richard asked, probing for more details.
Mitch leaned back, the satisfaction on his face was as clear as day. "Let''s just say it involves preferential rates on goods you won''t find on the open market. Plus, the contacts I''m offering¡ªthey''re not your average merchants."
"If I agree to this, when and where do I get the package?" Richard inquired.
"Tomorrow morning, right here. I''ll have everything prepared for you," Mitch responded, already assuming Richard''s compliance. "As for the details of the delivery in Valewater, I''ll provide those once you''re back. Trust me, you''ll know what to do when the time comes."
Richard shrugged, already sensing that he''d have to be cautious of Ben and inform Benjamin about this. He wasn''t sure if this was the same Ben Tom told him about, but it could be. Not like the name was unique, there were bound to be others here in the city with the same name. "Fuck it, I''ll bite."
Mitch laughed and clapped his hand once in satisfaction. "Perfect."
.....
"Damn it, what''s Fuller got up his sleeve this time?" Ben muttered under his breath, his strides hurried and uneasy as he accompanied the messenger back to Mitch, also known as Fuller. Despite his usual bravado, Ben couldn''t help but dread these summons. His dealings with Fuller always left a sour taste, their history marred by obligations and threats rather than any semblance of mutual respect. Just the thought of the man made his blood boil and his right eye ache.
When they arrived the man who was with Ben dispersed and made himself busy. Ben''s seen this sight often, no one wanted to be in the presence of Mitch for long. The man was cruel and crazy, he''d lash out at you for the smallest thing and enjoy it.
"Fuller," Ben greeted, his voice betraying a hint of caution. Around Carl, Earl, and Big Oar, Ben could effortlessly embody the role of the confident, cunning schemer, his natural charisma unchallenged. However, in Fuller''s shadow, that confidence dissipated, replaced by a wary circumspection.
Fuller, or Mitch, as he was known to some, greeted Ben with a disturbingly cheerful smile. "Ben, my favorite debtor. Have my money?"
Ben instinctively took a step back, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Not exactly, but I''m close. Just need a bit more time," he stammered, hoping to buy himself some leeway.
Fuller''s smile didn''t waver as he cut to the chase. "Forget your whatever scheme you''ve cracked up. You remember that merchant who came here a couple of days ago? The one with the complaints about tariffs?"
"You mean the guy making a scene over the fees? Peter, was it?" Ben tried to recall the minor commotion from a few days back.
"That''s the one. Listen, he''s got a job that needs doing¡ªdelivery to Valewater. And you''re going to help ensure it gets there, with our new friend," Fuller declared, clearly enjoying the discomfort his directive caused Ben.
Ben''s heart sank. "To Valewater? With the border skirmishes? Come on, Fuller, you know I can make your money back. I''ve got plans¡ª"
"Plans?" Fuller interrupted, his laughter cold and mocking. "Your ''plans'' have you owing me more than just a few silver tales. Remember our last ''discussion''?" His gaze hardened, fixating ominously on the eye Ben had stitched shut.
Ben gritted his teeth, how did he even get involved with the man? He should be lucky that Fuller hadn''t captured him and sold him as a slave yet. It''s only because of his mouth and schemes that he''s stayed free all this long. But Ben knew he was pushing his luck, it wouldn''t be much longer before something sent the bastard over the edge and killed Ben where he stood, or sent him to work the mines in another region.
Resigned, Ben asked, "What''s the job? What do you need me to do?"
Fuller''s grin widened, sensing victory. "It''s simple. You''re to accompany this merchant and his goods to Valewater. Ensure the delivery is completed, and consider your debt to me reduced. But fail, and well... I''m sure you can imagine."
33 – Road to Valewater VI
Disceroa, 32th of Rainwane, year 179 BN
Richard explained the situation to the others, leaving out the bit about Ben because Earl, Carl, and Big Oar were friends with the man. He figured he''d see what they''d do. The warning Tom gave him about Ben two days ago still lingered in his mind. If the Ben Mitch was referring to yesterday was the same man, then Richard had to watch his back.
While he might not have informed Carl and the others about Ben, he did tell Benjamin. The man as cold as he was took the information in stride saying he''ll keep an eye on him. This by itself wasn''t enough for Richard considering if they were dealing with a friend of Big Oar''s then it was unlikely the big man and the others would side with him. Given that, Richard didn''t want to, but he was debating on cutting all ties with them here to avoid such a circumstance.
However, finding replacements would be a hassle and there wasn''t enough time. Besides, if he did cut them loose here and they made it back to Evergreen, they could tell others and people would be less willing to work for him.
He still had his knife, and a sword stashed in the carriage. The knife stayed on him but the sword was in the carriage just in case they ran into any trouble and Richard had to protect himself. It was what he was paying the others for, but he wasn''t going to rely on them if a fight broke out.
"What do you think it is?" Carl asked from the back of the carriage. He was already in the midst of a conversation with the others as they discussed the item that had to be delivered.
Richard listened in as best he could while steering Dave in the right direction. The carriage was wide and took up most of the street causing people to grunt and complain, but none took action. They moved out of the way and continued about their business as usual.
"I don''t know, probably a gem. Like one of those rare ones, you know?" Earl replied.
Richard shook his head, it wasn''t a gem, there''d be no need for it to be delivered within a specific timeframe. No, it had to be something more valuable than that. Nothing came to mind as of yet, but he''d figure it out eventually. Not that he really cared if he was being honest, minding his own business was the best way to stay alive.
This deal was just a small step for him, not anything for him to pry into. As long as the information he received was solid, then that''s all that mattered.
"You think they''d want a gem moved to Valewater? No, has to be something that can''t spoil or something like that. Not food exactly, but could be some rare medical herb, or something like that." Big Oar stated.
The conversation continued with them making various assumptions as they headed towards the port. Benjamin was walking saying he wanted to stretch his legs, but Richard thought it was for other reasons.
When they arrived at the port ships were leaving, small-sized boats that probably belonged to fishermen.
There were two men waiting at the port, one was standing while the other was seated on a large crate. Richard could tell right away that Mitch was the one seated on the crate, and the other person was Ben.
Richard hopped down from the driver''s seat and tied Dave to a wooden post so he wouldn''t go anywhere. Not like the post would do anything to stop the verlpax, but it was just a precaution just in case. Dave was pretty easy to manage thus far so Richard didn''t think he''d have any problems out of the beast.
Carl, Earl, and Big Oar seemed stunned by the sight in front of them. They didn''t even seem to notice Richard as he walked right by them with Benjamin right at his side.
"This some shit, isn''t it?" Earl asked in a low voice that Richard happened to catch. He guessed they weren''t as paralyzed by the sight as he first imagined. It was something to see their reaction, they clearly weren''t expecting this.
"Yeah, that''s him alright." Richard could have sworn he heard Benjamin say something like that, but no one else in the group paid him any mind. They were too focused on Ben and Mitch. But if it was, then Richard had to agree, this was the same Ben that Big Oar and the others knew.
Mitch stepped forward with that creepy smile plastered all over his face. "Richard, my pal good morning! Ready to get down to business?"
Richard''s brow furrowed at that, not the fact they were getting straight to the business. No, it was because Mitch knew his name. Yesterday he never told the man his name, but today he knew him and was acting overly friendly. Richard took note of this and returned the smile, "All good on my end."
Mitch nodded in approval. "Great, great. Let me introduce you to an acquaintance of mine." Mitch waved Ben forward.
From the few interactions he''s seen Ben have with the others, Richard thought the man was behaving funny. He seemed, subdued, afraid even. Richard didn''t know if the others read his body language, but this told him something. Mitch and Ben were not friends, and might not even be on friendly terms.
"This right here is Ben," Mitch pushed Ben forward because the man was refusing to stand next to him. "He''s going to tag along to make sure the item gets to its destination. I hope that won''t be a problem." Mitch said.
Just like he assumed, Mitch wanted someone to come with him. It wasn''t strange, he was being trusted with an item and didn''t know Mitch well. So the trust between the two of them wasn''t there, and Richard doubted it ever would be. But he wanted information, and he was told Mitch was the person who had it.
"Yes, thats fine. But I have a condition of my own." Richard''s words caused Mitch to frown slightly. It was a swift change in his facial expression but the man recovered before anyone took note of it.
"You do? What is it?" Mitch asked.
"About the information you promised, I''d like to discuss that now," Richard said as he focused on Mitch.
This was nondebatable, he needed to verify the content that Mitch would provide him. If he didn''t, he''d be an idiot. Mitch could play him like a fiddle and not bat an eye, it was human nature.
He''s seen it done many times in the past, and lessons learned, it was done to him. Fool him once, shame on him, but he wasn''t going to be fooled again.
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Mitch replied, "All in due time, my friend. Once the delivery''s made, you''ll have everything you need. Ben already has what you requested, and will share once it''s time."
Richard shook his head, that would never do. Ben might up and vanish the second the item was delivered, and he was already told to be careful of him. "I believe you need this delivery done more than I need your information. If you want to make this on time, I''ll need you to pass me that information."
Mitch''s smile faded, replaced by a look of incredulity. "You questioning my trustworthiness?"
"Yes," Richard nodded, locking eyes with Mitch. "There''s more at risk for me in this arrangement. I want to verify the accuracy of your words, I''m sure you understand."
Mitch was taken aback by Richard''s bluntness. He was being friendly, hitting all the right notes that had others eating out the palm of his hand. Yet, Richard didn''t trust him? To be fair, he wouldn''t trust himself either given his reputation and history, but that was for him to know. This wasn''t what he expected given Richard''s behavior the last time they spoke. "That wasn''t the deal. You do the job, then you get what you''re after."
Richard smiled slightly. "I plan on fulfilling my end. But to do so, I need that information now."
After a moment of silent contemplation, marked by a click of his tongue, Mitch conceded. "Fine. I''ll tell you about Valewater, but that''s as far as I go."
Laughing inwardly, Mitch must have thought him stupid. While the market prices and what the town was in need of were of great value to him, he''d never take it at face value. Valewater was a few days'' travel away, which meant he needed to go all the way there to check if the information was solid. Disceroa was here, and Richarad figured if the market knowledge was right here, that was fine by him even if the one Mitch told him about Valewater turned out to be false. At least he''d walk away with something.
While he was young on the outside, Richard has met more crooked-faced people than Mitch. This was child''s play compared to dealing with them.
"I appreciate the offer, but considering the circumstances, I''ll need at least both markets'' information. Without the ability to verify what you tell me about Valewater firsthand, it puts me at a disadvantage." Richard said calmly.
Mitch clicked his tongue, annoyance flashing across his face. "You''re turning out to be a real pain in my ass, you know that?" His gaze briefly shifted to Ben, who instinctively took a step back, sensing the shift in Mitch''s mood.
Ben was silent during this whole exchange just like the others present. He wanted to speak and calm the mood down, but it was far too late for that. If he spoke up now, he was sure his neck would go flying. He''d very much like to keep his head attached to his shoulders. And given how on edge Mitch is, Ben would be the first to feel his wrath.
Cracking his neck, Mitch seemed to weigh his options before speaking again. "Fine, the most I''ll do is introduce you to a friend of mine. Someone who can give you what you''re looking for at a decent price. But let me be clear," his tone hardened, "this is as far as I go. If that''s not good enough for you, then we''re wasting our time here."
His posture stiffened as he added, "And I hate having my time wasted."
The way Mitch''s voice came out made the hairs on Ben''s neck stand up. This was the real him, not that fake version who spoke with a smile on his face acting friendly. Mitch, no, Fuller was no one''s friend. Ben knew that personally in the four years he''s been stuck under the man''s boot, only being able to breathe when he let him.
From the corner of his eye, Richard could see Benjamin''s hand move to the hilt of his blade. He scanned the area noticing people who were moving before paying them attention as if they sensed the mood change. There were too many here, it wasn''t worth it to lose his life or a chance at gaining information slip. It was best to accept this, as pushing any further wouldn''t do either of them any good. "Yeah, that''s fine."
Mitch''s demeanor instantly lightened, and with a quick smile and a clap of his hands, he said, "Great. Let''s get moving then."
The change was so swift and so sudden that it caught Richard off guard. How the man could go from one personality to another at the jump of a beat was amazing, but also meant that he was probably bipolar.
They followed Mitch towards a ship, medium-sized with black wood gleaming under the sun. With the tension gone, the workers on the port began moving, going to their original task. Approaching the gangplank, Mitch paused and turned to face Richard. "I''ll only allow one other to accompany you on board with me," Mitch stated. Without hesitation, Richard glanced back at Benjamin giving him a subtle nod. Benjamin understanding stepped forward.
The three of them headed up the ship and quickly disappeared out of sight from the others. Big Oar, Carl, and Earl were left on the dock, their attention fixed on Ben.
"What''s going on, Ben?" Big Oar''s face was removed of any smile and joy, he wanted answers.
Ben shifted uncomfortably, his gaze lingering on the ship''s entrance. "I know, this isn''t what I was expecting either," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. A sigh escaped him, betraying his frustration. "This is such a pain."
Carl frowned as he motioned with his chin at the ship Mitch vanished into."Thought this was Fuller, but turns out he''s Mitch?"
Earl nodded, "You seemed off around him, Ben. What''s the deal?"
Big Oar''s patience was wearing thin. "Spit it out, Ben," he growled, his large arms crossed in front of his chest
Ben let out a weak laugh, the sound devoid of any real humor. He glanced back at the ship once more before responding, "We probably don''t have much time. Can I explain later?"
"Now, or I''ll beat it out of you," Big Oar threatened, his voice leaving no room for negotiation.
Ben''s weak laughter continued, though there was a hint of resignation in his voice. "That won''t make me talk faster," he said, gesturing to his stitched-shut right eye. "And if you think whatever you''re planning is worse than this," he paused, his hand hovering over the visible scar, "then you''re mistaken."
Earl exchanged a look with Carl, both men sharing a moment of disbelief. "Can''t believe it," Earl muttered, shaking his head in dismay. "Ben talked a big game, but now he''s just cowering under another man."
"You don''t know anything, so you''ve got no right to judge," Ben snapped back. "Sitting pretty in Evergreen, your biggest worry being the monster tide. That''s nothing." His laughter was hollow, devoid of any real amusement. "You don''t know the first thing about the world. Don''t talk to me like you do."
Without warning, Big Oar''s patience snapped. His fist connected with Ben''s face, a blow that sent Ben staggering backward.
"Don''t feed us that bullshit," Big Oar growled. "We know nothing about the world? That''s crap, and you know it." He jabbed a finger toward a slave struggling under the weight of a heavy crate. "You were right about one thing, though. You''re no different from us. But it''s worse than that," he added, his gaze turning cold as he locked eyes with Ben. "You''re just a slave pretending to be free."
Blood dribbled from Ben''s nose, as he spat more blood onto the ground. Ben straightened up, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. "You think that makes you better, Big Oar? You think because you can throw a punch, you understand what I''ve been through?"
....
Below deck, Mitch led Richard and Benjamin to a more secluded office. The room was dimly lit, with maps and various navigational tools scattered across a large desk. Mitch reached for a roll of paper resting beside a brass sextant and handed it to Richard.
"What''s this?" Richard asked, unrolling the paper to reveal detailed lists.
"That," Mitch began, watching Richard''s reaction closely, "is everything you need to know about Valewater''s market. Food, clothing, building materials, weapons, armor, luxury items ¨C it''s all there."
Richard scanned the contents, his eyebrows raising slightly at the detailed information. It was a lot, more than he was expecting if he was being honest. He at most thought he''d be told the prices of a few items, but this was twenty times better than that. If even a quarter of the items on this list were true, he''d find a way to manage.
Mitch observed Richard''s expression. "So, do you trust me now?"
Richard met Mitch''s gaze squarely. "I''ll need to verify this, but it''s a start."
Mitch nodded, a trace of disappointment in his tone. "I could have been more helpful, but given your initial distrust, this is as far as I''m willing to go. If you want to know precisely what Valewater needs and what will sell best, you''ll have to figure that out on your own."
Richard shrugged, "I can manage."
Their exchange was momentarily interrupted as Mitch shifted his attention to a small, intricately designed bronze box on the desk. The box, devoid of any visible locking mechanism, was nevertheless secured by a chain wrapped tightly around it.
"This," Mitch announced, tapping the box lightly, "is the item in question. I trust you won''t attempt to open it. Deliver it to Edward in Valewater. Ben''s acquainted with him and will fill in the details upon arrival."
"Simple enough," Richard replied. He was curious about the box, but not enough to open it. He didn''t really care as long as he got what he wanted, and thinking of that. "Now, the person you were going to introduce me to."
Seeing Richard''s dismissive nature of the box, Mitch saw the young man in a new light. Not many could look away from such an item, especially one as this shrouded in mystery. Even he didn''t know what was inside, just that Peter was paying him a lot of tales to deliver it. Peter was an obnoxious man, but a man with a lot of money that was for sure.
Fifty gold tales to deliver this, no questions asked. It was a no-brainer, but that kind of money came with a lot of problems, which is the main reason why Mitch wasn''t too keen on doing this job himself. There would be a lot of eyes on him, and if the workers and guards were to check his ship then the box would surely be discovered. That was no good for him.
It was best to outsource the job, not to mention he wouldn''t have been able to make it on time anyway. Not unless he left right away. Yesterday when he met Peter and told him he would accept the job, the man was shocked considering the amount of time that passed by. Telling him how it''d be useless now until Mitch informed him he could get it there in a few days. Hearing that, Peter started singing a different tune and agreed.
Why Peter couldn''t deliver it himself, Mitch didn''t know nor did he care.
Mitch looked at Richard. "I''m serious, don''t open it. If it''s open, you won''t get anything and if I find out it''s open," Mitch laughed a little bit. "Let''s just say you won''t be having a good time, anywhere." He made it clear to Richard.
Seeing the silence Richard was giving him, Mitch grabbed the box. "Great! Now, let''s go see that friend of mine. Think you''ll like him, and his goods."
Mitch led them back outside until they were standing on the deck of the ship. He noticed something was off with the group that was left out there. They seemed to be in some sort of confrontation, which amused him. Mitch couldn''t help but wonder what sort of trouble Ben got himself into. He planned to ask the man before he departed Disceroa, while also making sure Ben thoroughly understood that the box he''d be given under no circumstances should ever be opened. Because if it was, he''d hunt Ben down personally and if that happened... oh boy, he''d wish he were never born.
34 – Road to Valewater VII
Disceroa, 32nd of Rainwane, year 179 BN
As Mitch and Richard stepped into the dimly lit shop, they were greeted by a man who seemed taken aback by their sudden presence. "Mitch, wasn''t expecting you," he said, rising from his cluttered desk, his eyes briefly scanning the newcomers. The shop, though unremarkable at first glance, held the essentials: grains, fruits, and various meats, excluding the over-saturated market of Ice Fish, which the shopkeeper, Rodger, wisely avoided due to its low-profit margin in Disceroa.
"Rodger, it''s been a minute," Mitch greeted with a knowing chuckle, as he walked through the cramped space, the floorboards squeaking with each step he took.
Not long enough for Rodger if he were being honest with himself. He assumed Mitch forgot all about him, and if it were up to him, he''d keep it that way. Mitch was a decent person once you got to know him, but the bastard always brought trouble with him.
"I want to introduce you to someone, a new merchant in town and a potential friend. I want to show him the good stuff, and don''t give me that ''I''m not sure what you''re talking about'' crap that you spit." Mitch told him.
Rodger raised his hand in feigned surprise. "I''d never say something like that to you."
"Uhuh."
Rodger coughed once and looked over the group of people that came in with Mitch. "So, which one is it?"
Mitch pointed at Richard, the young brown-skinned man next to him. Rodger nodded his head once and rubbed his beard before glancing back at Mitch. "And he''s good for it? You know none of this is cheap, and I can''t have the guards come sniffing around if word gets out."
"Relax, you think I''d bring you someone that''d go running to the guards?"
From the stare, Rodger was giving Mitch Richard could infer that a situation like that had happened before. At first, the way Rodger was speaking Richard assumed he was indebted to the man, but it didn''t seem to be the case.
Stepping out from behind the desk Rodger removed a pelt off the ground and began messing with the floorboards. Mitch casually leaned against a nearby table and Richard couldn''t help but stare. No one was talking at the moment, the situation with Ben and the others caused everyone to be a bit tense.
None of those guys were speaking, when Richard was sure they had plenty to say. Instead, they were starring daggers at Ben with the occasional glances at Mitch. Benjmain on the other hand was standing at the door preventing anyone from entering or leaving.
"So, you''re heading down to Ashern again?" Rodger asked without looking up, his hands working deftly on the floorboards.
Mitch''s eyes followed Rodger''s movements, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, should be gone for about four months, give or take. Kris can''t seem to get enough of your meat. Keeps saying it''s the best he''s had."
Rodger paused to shoot a glance at Mitch, a hint of pride creeping up in his eyes. "Only the best here," he said as he finally pried open the secret entrance. Straightening up Rodger brushed off his hands. "Got a new shipment coming in soon. Should be here by the time you''re back."
"You and the merchant can follow, the rest should stay up here." Rodger said. He wasn''t worried about them taking his stuff, not if they were here with Mitch. The man would break their arm if they even tried to, besides, his real products were down here in the first place.
Mitch turned to look at the group. "Don''t touch anything, this shouldn''t take long." He said as he motioned for Richard to follow him.
Richard followed Mitch into the hidden basement, his eyes quickly adjusting to the ambient glow provided by firestones embedded along the walls. The innovative use of firestone, typically reserved for the forges of blacksmiths like Gregor, was a first for Richard to witness in such a domestic setting. The basement was lavishly adorned with shelves laden with an array of jewelry crafted from bronze, silver, and gold, each piece more intricate than the last. Amidst the wealth, a wooden chest caught Richard''s eye, brimming with golden chalices encrusted with sparkling gems, alongside a scepter crowned with a vibrant green gemstone, and countless bronze and silver tales that seemed to spill endlessly from within.
However, the marvels of wealth quickly faded as an all-too-familiar, nauseating stench assaulted Richard''s senses. The smell, reminiscent of his first disorienting night in this new world, forced an involuntary shudder through him. Curiosity piqued, he turned, seeking the source of the odor, only to be met with a sight that arrested his steps.
Cages, large, imposing metal structures, lined the walls, but they did not house animals as he first thought. No, these cages were filled with people.
He turned, looking at Mitch''s back. It was best not to pay them any attention. This was how the world seemed to work, and Richard was not going to be the one to change it. The sight made his mouth twitch, but that was all.
As he fully descended the stairs, Rodger greeted him with a tone that dripped with a disturbing eagerness. "Let me know if you see something you like," Rodger began, his eyes gleaming with a perverse delight."Humans are common, but have you ever indulged in the company of an Elven woman?" Rodger kissed his finger in delight. "You''ll find it hard to go after a human woman once you''ve had one for yourself, but if that doesn''t suit you then..." Rodger turned to look at a cage with a petite girl. "I also have them young. I had an Oni, but the damn thing just kept trying to resist. So had to get rid of it, was a pretty little thing too."
The longer Rodger talked, the more disgusted Richard felt. His hand clenched into a fist multiple times as the man was speaking about them as if they were nothing but items to be had. It took a lot to hold himself back from punching Rodger in the face, and the man must have sensed it too.
Rodger smirked once. "Not to your taste? You''ll change your mind. They all do," he taunted, his gaze shifting to a cage holding a young girl.
Mitch walked over to a cage that had something Richard couldn''t explain inside of it. It looked like a fox, but it was tall, wore a dirty brown shirt that barely covered anything, and had the shape of a human. It clearly wasn''t a human, but it wasn''t a fox either.
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"Oh," Rodger laughed a little as he saw Richard eye the thing. "You''re into that huh? Not my taste, but Beastkin are rare here in these parts. Those three came all the way from Aeloria, you won''t find them in any other city up here that''s for sure. Five gold tales ought to do it, what do you say?" Rodger asked as he rubbed his hands together.
Beastkin, the term was unfamiliar to him. Human shaped with their animal features, that was what they called a Beastkin. Richard didn''t know how many of them there were, but he wasn''t interested in buying them.
"No thanks," he firmly declined.
Rodger shot a puzzled look at Mitch. "You''ve brought an odd one," he remarked.
Mitch just laughed softly. "Appears so. Show him the rest of your collection, why don''t you?"
With a resigned click of his tongue, Rodger beckoned Richard to follow. "This way. Beyond flesh, I''ve treasures and artifacts from afar, relics sacred and profane. Yet, it''s my ''meat'' that''s most renowned," he boasted, leading the way to a nondescript black door at the basement''s rear. If Richard wasn''t paying attention he''d have missed it.
Opening the door revealed a chilling sight. Inside, carcasses hung in a room colder than the surrounding basement, its walls adorned with dark blue stones. The air was unnaturally frigid, like stepping into a refrigerator. That shouldn''t be possible though given that this world didn''t seem to have advanced technology. The stone wasn''t ice, it didn''t look like it. Even if it was, it should have melted a long time ago.
"This here is the best meat you''ll ever find up north. Better than any pork, sausage, or whatever meat you eat. Go on, take a look, and tell me what you like." Rodger insisted.
Richard walked into the room and saw animals that were skinned, he couldn''t make out what they were though. They didn''t look like cows or anything like that, most of them were too large for that. The couple of small ones he spotted were as big as a turkey but the meat was red, not white.
"What is it?" Richard asked.
Rodger laughed. "You think I''m going to tell you that? Two silver tales for the small ones and ten for the big ones. I''ll even freeze it for you, should last you until you reach your destination."
Richard didn''t believe him, not about the quality or the ability to freeze it.
"What about spices, maybe olive oil or wine?"
"Oil, yes. The rest, no," Rodger confirmed.
"I''ll take the oil then. No meat, thank you," Richard decided.
"Get him two of the small ones Rodger, on me," Mitch said as he came in from behind Richard. He smiled at Richard. "A gift, to our new budding friendship."
Richard wasn''t all too sure about that. Given the way these two were, he doubted they''d ever be friends. But he was not one to turn away something if it was free.
"Watch, he''ll be back for more," Rodger quipped as he fetched two small carcasses, not handing them directly to Richard but instead placing them in an iron box alongside three of the chilling blue stones. "Consider these a bonus."
Outside the chilling room, Rodger grabbed a vase that had olive oil in it. Richard tested it, and it felt like oil but he wasn''t willing to light it up here or fry some chicken in front of them. It only cost him five silver tales for it, and that was including whatever discount Mitch told him he''d receive.
After that, they left the basement, not fast enough for Richard. The sight of those quivering people would haunt him for days to come. Seeing them on the dock bothered him, but not to this extent.
Once they returned to the first floor, Rodger closed the door to the basement and locked it. Quickly hiding it with the pelt of fur. He said a few more words to Mitch before Richard told the others they were ready to leave.
They headed out the door, and Mitch followed suit.
"Wait," Mitch''s voice cut through the air, low and commanding, a tone reserved for conversations he intended to keep from prying ears.
Ben halted, a sense of foreboding creeping up his spine. He turned, finding Mitch leaning nonchalantly against the door, arms crossed in a stance that belied the danger of his presence. The casual posture that Mitch had couldn''t hide those sharp brown eyes of his that reeked of a predator eyeing it''s prey.
"What''s the deal with your face? You manage to tick off your old buddies?" Mitch''s gaze was sharp, taking in the swollen lip and the redness that had yet to fade from Ben''s nose.
Trying to mask the turmoil inside him with a nonchalant shrug, Ben replied, "Just a misunderstanding, that''s all."
Mitch''s smirk widened, sensing the lie. "Misunderstanding, huh? Did they buy that excuse for your eye too?"
The mention of his eye was a low blow, and Ben felt a surge of anger. His hand twitched behind his back, clenching into a fist, though he knew better than to show his frustration. "No, just... let it be, Mitch."
Getting worked up over some words with Mitch would never end well. His grand plan which was solid in his opinion was ruined because of the man. There might have been a chance if he had time to explain himself to the others and work out a plan to take the carriage, goods, and verlpax on the road to Valewater. At that point, he''d be long out of Mitch''s reach, but sadly that would never work at this time. The others wouldn''t listen to him, not now.
Mitch''s amusement was evident as he shifted gears, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "I need you to take care of our merchant friend once you reach Valewater."
Confusion flashed across Ben''s face, momentarily displacing his fear. "What? Why?"
The smirk on Mitch''s face vanished in an instant.
"That wasn''t part of the deal!" Ben protested, the shock clear in his voice.
Mitch closed the distance between them. "Oh, my apologies. I must''ve forgotten to ask for your input," he said, the sarcasm dripping from each word. His hand found Ben''s shoulder, grip tightening until it was painful. "Listen here, Ben. You''re not here to question me. You''re here to do as I say."
Ben winced the pain becoming too much for him to bear. "Alright, alright, I''ll do it," he conceded, desperation creeping into his voice. A moment later and he felt like his shoulder was going to snap.
Mitch''s grip relaxed, "Make sure it''s done. Because if he''s still breathing after you''ve reached Valewater, you''ll find yourself missing more than just an eye."
As Mitch stepped back, leaving Ben to nurse his bruised shoulder and bruised pride, a bitter realization settled in. Ben''s plans, his hopes of escaping Mitch''s control, were slipping through his fingers like sand.
How was he supposed to kill Richard? The task was impossible, Mitch was just telling him to die.
Here he was stuck under Mitch''s grasp being his obedient little slave, while the others walked around free doing whatever they pleased. It wasn''t fair, why was his life so difficult? What did he do to deserve this? Nothing that others haven''t done plenty of times before that''s for sure.
Gritting his teeth Ben glared at Mitch, but only for a moment. Any longer and the man was sure to see and snap his neck right that instant. Mitch would get his, Ben would make sure of that. He didn''t know how or when, but he would. First Ben just had to do what he was told, and then strike.
Big Oar would too, that large brute. Thinking he''s better than Ben, they all did. He''d show them, he''d show them all.
.....
Peter wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he was leaning against the tavern''s walls. He drank too much and his stomach was screaming at him in protest.
Looking up he saw something that made him blink. Yeah, there was that bastard. He was wondering when he''d run into him but they never crossed paths since that day at the front gate. Normally he''d hire a few mercenaries to take care of his problems, but he was not going to do that when he had an important task to complete.
Now that, that was finished he could pay the man back for the humility he suffered. His brother would say he was being petty, but so what? No one dared to talk to him that way, and he didn''t plan on letting the one who did live. At least not in peace. He''d ruin the man and his entire life, no matter the cost.
The man whoever he was, wasn''t traveling alone. Peter had to hurry if he wanted to catch them in time. A bigger pay would ensure that the job would be finished, and during that time he just had to wait here until he heard back from his contact in Valewater. Lord Kirk wanted to start a war with his family, he''d make sure that old man got the war he wanted.
35 – Road to Valewater VI
Disceroa, 1st of Budrise, year 179 BN
Path to Valewater
Ben walked alongside the carriage and found it difficult to keep up. He hasn''t moved this much since the time he ran for his life back when he first left Evergreen. He was a guard then too, but those times were different, a lot different. Here he was with people he knew, even if he didn''t get along with them currently. Not to mention they were long gone from Evergreen, so the chances of them running into some wild predator were slim.
Not that there was zero chance of an encounter, it just became rare when you were outside of Evergreen''s region. He did hear about beasts popping up here and there all over the southern regions, but that was all it was rumors.
Looking to the left side, another man was walking alongside the carriage. Benjamin was his name, and from what Ben could tell the man was silent as a mouse. He''s only heard him speak a few times since they departed Disceroa.
As for the others, Richard was seated on the front of the carriage leading the way to their destination, while Carl and the others were in the back of the carriage. Gazing at the carriage Ben saw Big Oar hop out. He had to talk to the guy, it would happen eventually but it was better to let things calm down a bit more.
No one was on his side here, he knew that but that wasn''t important. His life was, and the bait Mitch hung in front of him was tempting. Go to Valewater, the task was easy and he could complete it. That was his key to freedom and it wouldn''t be much longer now before he could taste it. The thought of not looking back at Disceroa crossed his mind, go somewhere Mitch would never look. But that was just it, wasn''t it? Mitch knew that he''d run away the moment he could, that''s why he told Ben he''d be free of all his debt.
That wasn''t actually freedom, it was escape and Ben knew it.
Meanwhile, the others, Carl, Earl, and Big Oar had it easy. Being fed and given tales for their travel, meanwhile, he was doing all of this for free. Ben could see the look Richard gave him now and again, the man looked down on him. He didn''t offer Ben anything, no payment, no work as a guard, nothing.
Was Richard better than him? No, he was just lucky.
Thinking about it didn''t make Ben feel any better. "Huh?" He stopped and noticed the group came to a halt. Benjamin was raising his hand. Ben looked out wondering why, but he didn''t see anything but a dust cloud. Dust cloud? Here of all places? That''s when he saw it.
.....
Under the clear blue sky of the early morning, the plains seemed an endless green, until chaos descended. Richard¡¯s group came to a jarring stop as a stream of people burst into view, their numbers uncertain amidst the chaos¡ªperhaps ten, maybe forty¡ªscattering across the open grassland. It was difficult to make out their faces from this distance, but they had torn and bloodied clothing whilst constantly glancing over their shoulder.
Benjamin, with a practiced eye, raised his hand, halting the carriage abruptly.
Behind them, a dust cloud rose like a storm, a harbinger of the true threat¡ªa quartet of Aurochid, massive and unyielding, thundering across the plains. Mounted atop these beasts were soldiers, their armor glinting ominously in the sunlight.
Benjamin, observing the dust and the dread it heralded, frowned. "We must be close to the fighting," he remarked, a note of frustration in his voice as his tongue clicked against his teeth. The Aurochid were not a common sight, especially not here¡ªthese were mounts of war, used by soldiers, likely from Disceroa or Suncrest.
"Do you think there''s a way around?" Richard asked, his voice steady despite the rising alarm.
"None that I know of," he conceded. "It''s been ages since I''ve been this far out." His eyes shifted between the desperate people and the relentless pursuit of the soldiers. "Those are soldiers alright, but whose? That, I can''t say."
Big Oar, stretched his massive hands, the sound of his knuckles popping breaking the tension. "About time something happened," he rumbled, a wild grin unfurling on his face.
The sight of people being trampled beneath the relentless advance of the soldiers caused Richard to come to a decision. There weren''t that many soldiers from what he could see, just those four. But, those beasts they were mounted on top of were the reason he came to this decision. ¡°We aren''t fighting unless we need to,¡± Richard declared.
Carl, peering over the edge of the carriage spoke, ¡°Looks like we''ll need to, given the way things are looking,¡± nodding towards the chaos.
Earl, standing beside Carl added, "They''re headed this way. Those soldiers have probably spotted us already.¡± Richard nodded in agreement, already seeing the direction the people were running towards. Their group was right in the path, and on these open plains, there was no escape.
Turning to Benjamin, Richard asked, ¡°What can you tell me about those mounts?¡±
Benjamin¡¯s eyes narrowed as he studied the Aurochid. ¡°Slow, but durable,¡± he began. ¡°They have natural armor, thick, dark scaly skin that can turn away blades and arrows alike. Their horns are like spears, and they¡¯ve got a temperament that makes a cornered beast look docile.¡± He cast a glance towards Dave, the Verlpax. ¡°They¡¯re basically the opposite of Dave here.¡±
¡°And their weaknesses?¡± Richard pressed.
¡°Their bellies are less protected,¡± Benjamin conceded. ¡°And they can¡¯t turn quickly while charging. Too much weight and momentum.¡±
Ben, who had been quiet, spoke up, gesturing towards Dave. ¡°Why are we just standing here then? Let¡¯s run. They won¡¯t catch us.¡±
¡°And in what direction?¡± Benjamin¡¯s questioned. ¡°The most we could do is head back to Disceroa, but if Valewater is our aim, we¡¯ve got to get past this.¡±
Richard''s gaze settled firmly on Ben, ¡°We aren¡¯t turning back, we¡¯re a day or two from Valewater at most.¡± He looked around at the group, locking eyes with each member. ¡°We aren¡¯t seeking a fight, but we will defend ourselves if it comes to that.¡± His focus returned to Benjamin. ¡°These are soldiers, aren¡¯t they? For there to be only four, they¡¯re either the vanguard of a larger force or rogues who¡¯ve strayed from their unit.¡±
Benjamin, after a moment¡¯s reflection, nodded in agreement. ¡°Correct. And these won''t be your rank-and-file soldiers. Only the elite or those with wealth ride Aurochids. Expect them to be well-equipped¡ªwith lances, shields, and throwing spears.¡±
Richard pondered Benjamin''s expertise, the man seemed to possess a wealth of knowledge about the military¡ªmore than what one would expect from a simple monster hunter.
Benjamin, catching the inquisitive look from Richard, offered an unsolicited clarification, as though reading his thoughts. ¡°Standard equipment for those mounted on Aurochids. There might be variations depending on the region, but that¡¯s the common setup.¡± His explanation was matter-of-fact, betraying a familiarity with the subject that suggested a past deeply entwined with such matters.
Richard, processing Benjamin''s words, found himself reassessing their defenses and the potential threats they faced. The knowledge that their adversaries were possibly elite, well-equipped soldiers on Aurochids. As he mulled over their options, the quiet of the morning was suddenly pierced by the sound of approaching footsteps.
The foremost runner, an elf with panic stark on his features, darted past, his blonde hair a stark contrast to the darkened soil beneath his fleet feet. His eyes locked with Richard''s for a fleeting moment, a silent cry for help that was all the more desperate for its silence. He was no soldier, his hands bore no calluses of the sword or shield¡ªonly the softness of a civilian''s life now shattered.
As the civilians surged past, Richard''s mind raced through the implications of the scene unfolding before him. The fear etched on the civilian''s faces spoke volumes of the brutality they had fled. It was a visceral fear that Richard recognized¡ªnot the fear of a soldier facing the enemy but the raw terror of the innocent facing the merciless.
None of them spoke a word of warning, offered no plea. Their survival instincts drove them forward, away from the pursuing soldiers.
As the others followed in kind, a stream of desperate humanity. Their gazes flitted towards Richard and his company, eyes wide with the silent question, "Friend or foe?" But like the first, they continued on, their instincts telling them that the mere handful of guards with Richard could offer little safety.
These were not the disciplined maneuvers of a tactical retreat. It was the flight of those who knew that to pause, to speak, to plead, could mean the difference between life and death. For these people to be running away, those soldiers must be from the other region.
Richard and the others were still in Disceroa territory from what he knew, so these people were likely residents in a village not far from here. Meaning those soldiers must be from Suncrest considering the distance and direction they were headed in.
Attacking people not involved was low, they had nothing to do with the conflict. But in a time like this where there were no rules to warfare, then anything went. But even if that were the case, no sane commander would send their troops out from formation to chase civilians. Richard''s eyes narrowed as he thought about it. Raiders.
These men raided their village causing them to flee, it was the only reasonable explanation for why they were chasing after these people. Four soldiers weren''t a lot so there probably were more, and these four were just here to have some fun or stain their hands red. Richard despised people like this, ones who got off on the suffering of others.
Any thought he had about negotiation went out the window. They''d rather see him bleed and buried than work out a way in which they benefited at little to no risk. If they were common soldiers that would have worked, but these people. To them, Richard and his goods would be a prime target.
Richard got down from the coach, he didn''t know when but Carl and Earl had already positioned themselves at the carriage''s flanks, hands on their weapons. That made him smile a little, perhaps Benjamin¡¯s earlier reservations about them were misplaced. They were, after all, prepared.
Ben¡¯s gaze, however, was flickering between the desperate civilians and the predatory soldiers¡ªcalculating, perhaps contemplating flight. Richard weighed the odds. Ben¡¯s departure could spare him a potential betrayal, yet his sword arm in the upcoming fray could prove invaluable.
"Chances?" he asked, turning to Benjamin.
Benjamin gave an almost predatory grin. "Depends on if they¡¯re pampered nobles or hardened veterans. Either way, we¡¯ll take at least one down."
Richard knew what he meant. Those who were of the higher echelon and given their status due to their wealth always thought highly of themselves and looked down on all others. They''d take the deeds of others and claim them as their own. These type were less skilled and everyone hated them.
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He knew that better than a lot of other people. When he went out the fence with a butter bar that was always pushing paper at their desk. A lot higher rank than he was, so he followed him. But man was that officer a pain to deal with, no one could tell him anything until they started being shot at.
Clearing his head, he let the past remain there. That life was long gone, a whole universe or whatnot away. But inside he was hoping that they were that type, officers that preyed on the weak. Their lack of skill would make them easier targets compared to those who had earned their stripes through blood and grit.
At the rear of the carriage, Richard retrieved his longsword, its steel gleaming with a lethal promise. It was a weapon forged for protection, superior to the common iron that armed most men of this world.
"Form up, protect the carriage," Richard commanded, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of his authority. "It''s unlikely, but I''ll talk to them and see if we can get out of this. If not, prepare for a fight."
"And if they charge?" Big Oar''s voice was like rolling thunder, his massive hands tightening around the haft of his axe.
¡°Evade and counter,¡± Richard responded, his eyes never leaving the advancing raiders. ¡°Those beasts are slow to turn. If they charge, sidestep and strike for the belly. With any luck, both rider and mount will fall.¡±
The tremor of the earth under the pounding hooves of the Aurochid grew more pronounced as the raiders drew nearer. The civilians, their energy spent, had passed Richard¡¯s caravan, leaving a tense quiet in their wake.
The raiders, seeing Richard and his guards arrayed in a protective stance around the carriage, slowed their approach. The leader, a man with a cruel sneer and eyes that gleamed with malice, raised a hand, signaling his men to halt. They obeyed, forming a line before Richard''s group, the Aurochid snorting and stamping, unsettled by the sudden cessation of movement.
"You there," the leader called out, his voice carrying over the open field. "What business do merchants have traveling so close to a warzone? Or should I say, what business do spies have skulking about?"
Richard stepped forward, his grip on his sword firm but not threatening. "We are but humble traders, bound for Valewater with goods. We seek no quarrel with you or any other," he replied, his tone even.
The leader¡¯s laugh, sharp and mocking, cut through the tension. ¡°Goods? Is that what you call these trinkets?¡± he scoffed, eyes scanning the caravan with a predatory gleam. ¡°Perhaps there¡¯s something among your pitiful wares that might... ¡®compensate¡¯ us for the inconvenience of this meeting.¡±
His gaze then fell upon Dave, the Verlpax, a look of mock contemplation crossing his features. ¡°Ah, but what do we have here? A rare beast, indeed. This creature alone might suffice as payment,¡± he mused aloud, the cruel twist of his smile widening. ¡°I imagine it would make a fine snack for my Aurochid, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±
The raiders behind him erupted in laughter, the sound echoing maliciously across the plains. They exchanged jeers and barbs, delighting in the imagined spectacle of the Verlpax being devoured.
Richard clenched his jaw, fighting to keep his rising anger in check.
¡°Your ¡®troubles¡¯ seem self-imposed,¡± Richard countered, voice steady but cold. ¡°We are simple merchants, as I¡¯ve said. The road is free for all to travel, and our passage harms none.¡±
The leader¡¯s amusement faltered, replaced by irritation at Richard¡¯s resilience. ¡°Bold words for a merchant,¡± he sneered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword in a silent threat. ¡°But boldness alone doesn¡¯t fill one¡¯s belly, nor does it protect one¡¯s possessions. We shall see just how much your boldness is worth.¡±
The leader, with a dismissive wave of his hand, commanded, ¡°Check their carriage. Let¡¯s see if these ¡®humble traders¡¯ carry more than just air and bravado.¡±
Two of the raiders, eager to uncover hidden treasures or contraband, dismounted with the grace of men more accustomed to the saddle than to footwork. They approached the carriage, their eyes gleaming with the anticipation of spoils.
The raiders rummaged through the carriage, their frustration mounting as they found no goods within its main compartment. ¡°Nothing here!¡± One shouted back to their leader, his voice a mix of confusion and annoyance. ¡°Empty as a beggar¡¯s cup!¡±
The leader turned his cold, questioning gaze on Richard. ¡°What game do you play at, merchant? A spy would at least carry the guise of trade. Or is it that you¡¯re so inept that you travel to war with nothing to sell?¡±
Richard, maintaining his composure under the leader¡¯s scorn, attempted to explain. ¡°Our goods are secured, not meant for the likes of thieves and raiders. If you can''t find anything, that just means it wasn''t for you in the first place."
The leader¡¯s patience, however thin to begin with, snapped at Richard¡¯s words. ¡°Enough!¡± he bellowed, his voice carrying the finality of a judge¡¯s gavel. ¡°Your words are as empty as your carriage. Men, to arms!¡±
The raiders, with practiced coordination, drew their weapons. Richard''s group tightened their formation as they readied themselves. Ben was here as well surprising Richard as the man didn''t flee.
The leader, spurring his Aurochid forward, led the charge, his weapon¡ªa long, menacing lance¡ªpoised to strike. The other mounted raider followed suit, his lance aimed at the heart of Richard¡¯s defenders. The ground trembled under the weight of the charging beasts, their massive forms carrying a deadly momentum.
Richard, knowing the disadvantage of facing a mounted charge head-on, shouted, ¡°Split and flank!¡± His guards understood instantly and moved. They dispersed, evading the direct path of the charging Aurochids, seeking to engage on more favorable terms.
Big Oar, with a roar, swung his axe with such force that it whistled through the air. His target, a raider who had underestimated the giant man¡¯s agility, barely managed to deflect the blow with his shield, the impact reverberating up his arm. The force knocked him off the Aurochid sending him tumbling to the ground.
Ben hastily moved to the man Big Oar just downed, taking his dagger and ending the man before he could get up.
Carl and Earl, working in tandem, focused on a dismounted raider. Earl parried a thrust with his sword, while Carl found an opening, his blade slicing through the raider¡¯s defense to find flesh. The raider stumbled back, wounded but not yet out of the fight.
Benjamin, his movements fluid and precise, engaged the leader directly. As the Aurochid bore down on him, Benjamin sidestepped at the last moment, his sword slashing upwards. The blade scored a shallow cut along the beast''s underbelly, drawing a pained bellow from the creature. The leader, thrown off balance by the unexpected maneuver, struggled to control his mount, cursing as he circled back for another pass.
The leader, his focus narrowed on regaining control of his pained and enraged Aurochid, failed to notice the looming threat of Big Oar until it was too late. The massive guard, anticipation lighting his features, braced his feet against the soft earth, his grip on the axe tightening in readiness.
As the Aurochid, driven by pain and its rider''s urgent commands, charged blindly forward, Big Oar unleashed his might. With a battle cry that seemed to shake the very air, he swung his axe in a wide arc. The leader, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of this new adversary, had only a fraction of a second to react. He attempted to raise his lance in defense, but the maneuver was sluggish, hampered by the unexpected assault and his mount''s erratic movements.
The axe¡¯s blade met the shaft of the lance with a force that sent shockwaves through the leader¡¯s arms, shattering the wood and rendering the weapon useless. The continued momentum of the axe found its mark, striking the leader with a thud that resonated across the battlefield.
The leader hit the ground with a heavy thud, the air knocked from his lungs, his world a whirl of pain and disorientation. The leader¡¯s Aurochid, now riderless and gripped by pain, became an agent of chaos. Its cries of distress ignited a primal panic among the remaining Aurochids, who, without the guidance of their riders, succumbed to instinctual terror.
The leaderless beasts, their massive forms heaving with fear and confusion, charged blindly across the field. Their first unintended target was Richard¡¯s carriage. One of the Aurochids, in its blind rampage, collided with the carriage with devastating force. The impact was catastrophic, the carriage''s structure giving way under the sheer power of the beast. The contents within¡ªdye, wood, salt, glass, wine, furs, spices¡ªwere expelled violently into the open, scattering across the ground like the remnants of a shattered dream.
Dave, Richard''s verlpax was calm during the fight and reacted immediately. The collision, triggered its instincts to flee the danger. With a powerful surge, Dave dashed forward showing off its superior speed.
The rampaging Aurochids, now fully ensnared in their panic, trampled indiscriminately over the spilled goods. Among the wreckage, the bronze box that Mitch had entrusted to Richard for delivery met its end. The iron chain that once promised protection was no match for the weight and might of the Aurochids. The box cracked open, its contents¡ªa meticulously sealed scroll and a strange, luminescent stone¡ªexposed to the chaos of the battlefield.
A horn blew, drawing their attention. Perched upon a hill was a group of men seated upon their Aurochid, with one rider bearing a flag for all to see. The symbol and colors were new to Richard, but from the faces the raiders were making he had a feeling they weren''t allies.
The leader of the raiders, his pride was wounded more deeply than his flesh struggled to rise. With a bitter snarl, he signaled the retreat, his voice ragged but carrying the command of retreat to his men. ¡°Fall back!¡± he ordered, the taste of the words like ash in his mouth. The remaining raiders were all injured, with one dead.
Running as best they could, they found their way to the rampaging Aurochid''s and tried to mount them. Richard watched as the leader of the group pulled one of the men down from one of the massive creatures. The leader, casting a venomous glance Richard¡¯s way, spat out a curse before wheeling the Aurochid around. ¡°This isn¡¯t over, merchant,¡± he vowed, before kicking his mount into a gallop, fleeing the scene with the remnants of his band.
Richard watched the man flee, along with the others. He saw no need to chase after them, but he did feel a pain of regret as he should have placed the carriage out of the way. There was no way they could take all of this to Valewater now, nor get items for a return trip. He cursed silently, he should have prepared himself better.
Turning his attention to the wreckage, he saw his dream fleeting. Maybe this was Gods, or whatever deity laid claim over this world''s work. Telling him he wasn''t meant to be a trader. He laughed dryly at that getting a stare from the others.
"Recover what we can," Richard told them as he began to move. His words did not need to be spoken to Ben who was already amidst the wreckage going over the items. Ben stood where the bronze box was destroyed, the sealed scroll, and the luminescent stone. He picked up the scroll, the seal, if it had one was broken. Before Richard got there, the man was already reading the scroll.
Ben must have heard footsteps, because he seemed startled. Turning he saw Richard, and then his eyes noticed the rest of them.
"Ben, what does it say?" Richard asked.
Ben looked over at the sound of hooves coming closer, the soldiers were descending and they would be here any moment now. "I''ll tell you later, we have more pressing matters to attend to." Ben said as he motioned at the soldiers coming closer as he deftly tucked the scroll away.
His movements didn''t slip past Richard''s eye, he noticed this and Ben seemed to realize Richard wasn''t going to let this go. Ben turned and dashed, towards the soldiers.
Richard was momentarily taken aback by Ben''s sudden departure. "Wait, Ben!" he called out, but Ben had already fled and turned once more. The man was quick, Richard gave him that.
Cursing, Richard picked up the luminescent stone that pulsed green. As he held the stone up in the palm of his hand, a scroll of text was projected from the stone.
To His Esteemed Lordship, Lord Ike of Valewater,
With utmost urgency and under the cloak of confidentiality, I pen this letter to bring to your attention matters of grave significance that have recently come to light. It is with a heavy heart and a sense of duty that I divulge information that, if left unaddressed, could lead to dire consequences for Valewater and, indeed, for the very fabric of our alliances and loyalties.
Firstly, it has come to my knowledge through reliable sources that Lord Kirk of Evergreen, driven by a vendetta shrouded in betrayal and deceit, has orchestrated an assassination attempt on your life. This nefarious plot is scheduled to unfold on the 15th of this month, during the ceremony commemorating the founding of Valewater¡ªa day when our guards are lowered in celebration and our spirits are high. The choice of this day for such a vile act is a testament to the depths of treachery Lord Kirk is willing to stoop to.
The motive behind this assassination stems from a discovery most unsettling. Lord Kirk has uncovered evidence of Valewater''s covert support to Dustwell during the last skirmish between Evergreen and Dustwell. It has been revealed that Valewater supplied Dustwell with not only provisions and arms but also with strategic intelligence that directly contributed to Evergreen''s defeats in several key engagements. This act of aiding an enemy, viewed by Lord Kirk as the ultimate betrayal, has ignited a desire for retribution that knows no bounds.
Moreover, I have obtained detailed intelligence regarding the current disposition of Evergreen''s army, the remaining defenders, and strategic locations of significant import:
-
Evergreen''s Army: Currently headed towards Thornhill, alongside their allies from Devilin. More than five thousand strong that are to regroup at Ultim village, just on the outskirts of Thornhill. With a small number set to be encamped at Vinsworth, just outside of Valewater awaiting a moment to strike.
-
Remaining Defenders: Evergreen had a lot of defenders stationed in the city, however, due to the skirmish that will spread between Evergreen and Thornhill, that is no longer the case. They have a small number of soldiers left in the city, with majority of their force heading into Thornhill territory.
-
Strategic Locations: Several locations within Valewater have been identified as vulnerable to sabotage or attack. These include the Valewater Bridge, the main supply route between Valewater and its outlying territories.
In light of this information, I urge you to take immediate and decisive action to safeguard yourself, your family, and the people of Valewater. Increased security measures during the upcoming ceremony are imperative, as well as a thorough investigation into the veracity of these claims. It is also advisable to consider a discreet inquiry into the loyalties of those within your court, for a plot of this magnitude could not have been conceived without internal assistance.
Let it be known that my loyalty to Valewater and its lordship remains unwavering. My only desire is to avert a crisis that could spell ruin for all we hold dear. I stand ready to assist in any capacity to ensure the safety and stability of Valewater.
With the highest regards and utmost sincerity,
Peter II of Thornhill, Confidential Advisor
36 – Privilege I
Disceroa, 1st of Budrise, year 179 BN
Path to Valewater
Richard''s gaze was stuck on the projection coming from the stone. His hand was trembling, ''What is this stone'' Richard thought as his brain couldn''t comprehend the magic that was happening in front of him. By all logic, this shouldn''t be possible, in a world that still used iron tools an item like this luminescent stone shouldn''t exist. Even in his own world back on Earth, holographic displays, because that is the closest thing he could compare to this, wasn''t available to the public.
He''d seen magical feats before, such as the fantasy creatures outside of Evergreen that could breathe fire. But this was on a scale greater than that, it meant that not only did this world have magical creatures, it had magical items as well. Richard should have known this, but in his day-to-day life he''s rarely encountered anything ''magical''.
The firestones Gregor had shown him were indeed magical, but their commonplace use in everyday life had dulled their wonder. Moreover, Richard had never personally used one.
The sudden touch on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts. Turning swiftly, he found himself face-to-face with Benjamin.
Benjamin glanced once at the pulsing blue stone in Richard''s hand before looking at him. "Richard, you should put that away," he advised as he nodded towards the luminescent stone.
Richard, still processing the rapid turn of events, held the stone up slightly higher as his gaze locked with Benjamin''s. "Do you know what this is?" He asked, hoping the monster hunter had an answer for him seeing as how Benjamin seemed to know a lot.
Benjamin hesitated, a flicker of recognition crossing his features before he nodded slowly. His attention, however, quickly shifted towards the approaching army descending from the hill. "There are more pressing matters," he said, gesturing towards the soldiers advancing in their direction.
"Ugh!"Big Oar''s roar of frustration drew the attention of both Benjamin and Richard. He spat disdainfully on the ground, his glare lingering in the direction Benjamin had vanished. "I should have known Ben would run off," he grumbled under his breath.
Benjamin cleared his throat, pulling Richard''s focus. With a nod of the head, Richard secured the stone in the brown pouch at his waist. The pouch was used to hold his tales, and the stone was small enough to fit into the pouch without making it seem suspicious.
"You couldn''t have known Big Oar," Earl interjected.
"With how he was acting around Mitch,it was obvious," Big Oar countered, frustration boiling over as he clenched his fist. "I''m going to beat him until he talks the next time I see him."
Carl raised an eyebrow. "You think that''s a good idea? I mean, we don''t even know where he went."
Big Oar glanced at Richard. "He''s on foot, he couldn''t have gotten far. Dave over there," Big Oar pointed to Richard''s verlpax that dashed away who was slowly making his return. "Can give us an edge, we''ll find him in no time."
Richard heard the big man''s words, but going after Ben was not on his mind at the moment. Did none of these three see the projection? He wanted to ask, but the ground trembled with every step the army took closing the distance. They''d find out soon who those soldiers were, and with their numbers, they wouldn''t be able to make it out alive if they fought.
"Reckon we don''t have time for that." Benjamin told Big Oar.
The tremors of the approaching Aurochids grew more pronounced, sending a cloud of dust into the air as they neared. Richard watched, his hand instinctively resting on the pouch that contained the mysterious stone. The beasts were monstrous, their breaths heavy and forming misty plumes in the cool air. Atop the largest Aurochid, sat a man with a stern countenance, clad in a mix of leather and iron that bespoke his military rank.
The Aurochids halted, and the man dismounted with a practiced ease that spoke of years in the saddle. He approached Richard and his companions, his eyes taking in the scene before him: the shattered carriage, the scattered goods, and the lifeless body of the soldier.
"I am Secondmarshal Varus," the man announced, his voice carrying the weight of command. "We have been tracking a band of rogues from Suncrest. It seems we have come upon a different scene. What happened here?"
Richard stepped forward already having the answer prepared. "Secondmarshal Varus, we are travelers that were caught in misfortune. This soldier," he gestured to the body, "attempted to rob us. We simply defended ourselves, and the others in his group fled."
Varus''s gaze shifted to the dead soldier, his expression deadpan. "And the villagers?"
"They fled, heading towards Disceroa I take it," Richard replied.
Varus turned, signaling to a subordinate who hurried off, presumably to check on the villagers. He then focused on Richard again. "Your destination?"
"Valewater, initially. Now, with our carriage in ruins, we''ll likely return to Disceroa first," Richard explained, gesturing to the scattered remains of their transport.
Varus considered this as his gaze lingered on the debris laid out on the open plain. "These are dangerous times," he finally said. "Raiders often leave little behind. Your survival is... fortunate."
Big Oar stepped up, his size doing nothing to intimidate the Secondmarshal. "Wouldn''t call it fortune, they just picked a fight with the wrong person."
Varus gaze landed on Big Oar for only a second before he returned to lock eyes with Richard. A reply never came from him aimed at Big Oar. "If you seek to go to Disceroa, I can send five men to escort you. If not, I advise caution."
Richard, with a polite smile, declined. "We appreciate the offer, but there''s much we need to gather here. We wouldn''t want to divert your resources from more pressing matters."
Varus studied Richard for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to weigh Richard''s refusal. ¡°Time is not a concern when it comes to the safety of travelers on these roads,¡± he responded. ¡°But it is your decision to make.¡±
At this, Richard said nothing. His decision was made, and he had matters to discuss with Benjamin. The man Roxanne suggested to him seemed simple at first, portraying himself as nothing more than a monster hunter. With the past events that unfolded, Richard was confident that Benjamin was no simple monster hunter. He had too much knowledge for that, even Big Oar, Carl, and Earl had not spoken about the Aurochids or the soldier''s equipment like Benjamin had.
Varus turned, casting a glance toward the horizon as if sensing something beyond their sight. ¡°Very well, if you insist on declining our escort, at least allow my men to aid you in gathering your belongings. It¡¯s the least we can do before we resume our hunt for the raiders.¡±
Big Oar looked as though he was about to protest, but a stern look from Benjamin silenced him. Richard gave a nod of appreciation. ¡°Your help would be most welcome, Secondmarshal. Thank you.¡±
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With a few commands from Varus, several soldiers dismounted their Aurochids and began to assist with collecting the scattered items.
As they began salvaging what they could, Richard approached Varus. The Secondmarshal was in a position of power so if he wanted to know anything about the ongoing of the way, he was the best source to secure it from.
"Secondmarshal, if I may," Richard began, "how fares the war? Are there any places along the border that are safe to travel through?"
Varus''s expression hardened. "Our forces have held firm in many areas, but the rogues and raiders exploit any weakness they find. Paths leading to Evergreen remain under our control for now, but the situation is fluid."
Richard nodded once, people told him to watch out for the skirmishes taking place at the border between Suncrest and Disceroa, but he did hear about Vale attacking Disceroa as well. It was a mention in passing and Vale was in the opposite direction he was traveling so he paid it little attention. Not to mention the border between Disceroa and Evergreen was large, so he was sure he could cross back into Evergreen territory without running into any trouble. "Why not ask for assistance from Evergreen?" Richard asked as a way to continue the conversation.
Varus reacted with visible skepticism. "Rely on Evergreen?" he paused, briefly distracted by a soldier''s report on their recovery efforts.
Richard''s expression prompted him to elaborate. "A similar suggestion was made by one of my scouts," Varus dismissed. "Our circumstances haven''t yet driven us to depend on external aid. Moreover, Evergreen''s own struggles with their beast infestations hardly inspire confidence in their capacity to bolster our defenses."
Varus had no clue it seemed. News of Evergreen''s monster tide being over did not reach Disceroa it seems. Or, no one cared enough about Evergreen''s situation to pay them any attention. Either way, the Secondmarshal was clueless. Evergreen was in a position to help, but Richard did not know if Lord Kirk would assist Disceroa. He wasn''t knowledgeable about the political situation between the two regions, and frankly, he wouldn''t bother with it unless it impacted him in some way.
However, the situation changed. Richard knew that there was an influx of people entering Evergreen as he was leaving, but he never found out why. Earl and Big Oar told him that wasn''t normal, and Richard felt that he had a decent understanding as to why. The information he gleaned from the luminescent stone in his pouch, some of it had to be true.
"I see," Richard said as his mind began to buzz.
As the silence drowned on between the two of them the soldiers and Richard''s guards made quick work of the cleanup. The soldier that was sent away earlier returned and began whispering something to the Secondmarshal.
The soldiers began mounting their Aurochids and Varus glanced at Richard. "Stay vigilant, you never know what you''ll encounter out here. Best to head to the city as fast as possible."
The group watched as the soldiers rode off.
All of the goods that remained in decent shape were placed onto a piece of wood. Richaard was surprised to see the vase of oil was still intact but even with this, he''d still need a way to transport all of it back to Evergreen. Having the others carry it back was an option, but they needed their hands in order to protect themselves and him.
With the army now out of sight, Richard turned to his group. "We head back to Evergreen," he announced decisively.
Big Oar''s response was loud and incredulous. "What? And just leave Ben to escape with whatever he took from that box?"
Carl chimed in, reinforcing Big Oar''s sentiment. "Exactly, Richard. If Ben took off with it, it''s gotta mean something."
Richard shook his head, dismissing their concerns. "The contents of that scroll are irrelevant now. Our priority is Evergreen." Benjamin, understanding the gravity of the situation, nodded in agreement.
"He''s correct. Pursuing Ben under these conditions is futile. Given his lack of provisions, he won''t get far," Benjamin reasoned.
Earl crossed his arm as he looked at Richard. "Alright, so if going after him isn''t so important, then what about going back to Evergreen? Shouldn''t we go to Disceroa instead? I mean, your goal was to head to Valewater right? We should go Disceroa, get some wagons, and continue on."
At that moment, Richard retrieved the luminescent stone from his pouch, igniting its projection once more. "This is why," he stated, emphasizing the importance of their return.
Big Oar''s confusion was evident. "So? What''s it supposed to mean?"
"Did you not read it?" Richard asked, feeling as if he were plucking teeth here.
"Read?" Big Oar laughed. "You think we know how to read? You''re joking, right?"
There was one small detail Richard overlooked after he read the information the stone showed him. Many people couldn''t read, write, or do math. He knew that, the first day he arrived in this world the man he interacted with couldn''t count. These three things were essential in life if you wanted to progress, but not necessarily needed if you went about your day-to-day life. The only ones capable of reading and writing were those who were able to pay scholars to tutor their children.
Turning to Benjamin, Richard sought confirmation. "You understood it, right?"
Benjamin nodded solemnly.
"What are you talking about? What''s so important that we need to read what that says?" Earl asked as he pointed at the stone in Richard''s hand.
Richard broke it down for them, what the stone projected. Hearing it for themselves, they were all shocked and each of them voiced their own questions. None of which Richard had the answer for.
"Calm down!" Richard shouted over them. "Benjamin, you said you know what this is, what is it?" Richard finally asked.
"It''s a Scrying stone. Extremely rare," Benjamin elucidated, his tone grave. "Worth more than all our lives combined. And if someone specifically requested its delivery..." He trailed off, leaving the implication hanging ominously in the air.
Carl, puzzled, chimed in. "But if it''s that valuable, why didn''t Ben take it instead? The scrolls must be worth less, right?"
Benjamin paused, considering Carl''s question. "Did you know what it was? Did any of you lot know what it was before I told you? That right there is the reason Ben didn''t take it. It''s so rare that most people don''t even know it exists, let alone how one looks."
Earl raised his eyebrow at that. "But you did? So, if it''s so rare and no one knows about it. How do you know?"
Richard had been wondering the same. Benjamin''s depth of knowledge hinted at a background far more complex than they had assumed. His understanding of the Scrying stone was just one piece of a puzzle that suggested a wealth of experience or education not common among monster hunters or ordinary soldiers.
Even if Richard were to chalk him up to be some soldier turned monster hunter, that still did not explain it all.
Benjamin sidestepped the question with a dismissive gesture. "We''re straying from the crucial issue. The real concern is that someone out there has intimate knowledge about Evergreen''s current situation."
Seeing how the others were missing the point, Richard spoke up. "Think about it, none of us knew what was happening by the time we left. And we only left a few days ago, you all said it is dangerous outside the city''s walls and how long it''ll take to reach Disceroa. I''m pretty damn confident we were the first ones out of the gate and here in Disceroa, and within a few days, I was given a box to deliver to Valewater. How is that possible?" Richard asked hypothetically.
"It isn''t. This," he held the scrying stone up "had to be made, recorded or however it works, long before we got to Disceroa."
"Hold it," Earl said as he rubbed his temple and held a hand up. "That just doesn''t make sense."
Big Oar and Carl both nodded in agreement. The man wasn''t wrong, it didn''t make any sense at all. Unless...
"It adds up perfectly if you consider that someone anticipated all these events¡ªEvergreen''s movements to Thornhill, the allies, the regrouping location. Everything contained here is knowledge that only a few people would have. Why? Because they plotted it themselves, discussed strategies weeks, probably months prior." Richard explained.
After a moment of silence, Benjamin added, "The council. Only a member¡ªor rather, a highly trusted member¡ªof the council would possess such detailed information."
This news shocked all of them, except Benjamin and Richard. Having been exposed to the complexities and often underhanded tactics of politics back in the United States, he was well aware of how power could be wielded and contested.
"But is it true?" Richard had to ask. His question was more directed towards Benjamin than the others.
Benjamin shrugged, "Not the slightest clue. Doubt Lord Kirk would have any plans for Valewater considering the distance."
For him, the information was shocking but wasn''t the biggest question he wanted answered. How the information came to be was simple if you had the least bit of knowledge of politics and intrigue. This left him wondering who exactly Richard was, for the man to see a lot that others would overlook. He could understand if the man was a noble, or the son of one, but from what he could gather, Richard wasn''t. While Richard''s identity was a mystery to Benjamin, the real question on hand was one that Richard seemed to overlook.
How did the information leave Evergreen?
No one ventured out of the city for months, the ones that did end up dying long before they made it to an area relatively safe. This suggested an insider''s involvement¡ªa traitor or spy capable of not just acquiring such sensitive information but also smuggling it out and recording it onto a Scrying stone. The meticulous planning and execution of such a task indicated a player with significant resources and foresight. This was Benjamin''s best guess as of now.
None of the others knew it, but to record something on a Scrying stone took days. It wasn''t instantaneous, meaning the culprit had a lot of time beforehand to prepare.
37 – Privilege II
Evergreen, 4th of Budrise, year 179 BN
It was a surprise to see guards posted at the entrance to the city. They were vigilant and wanted to know Richard''s purpose for entering Evergreen, which never happened before. Benjamin was shocked by their behavior as well, saying that the guards were usually relaxed considering they just watched out for monsters.
On their way back to Evergreen, their group had an encounter with a monster. A Razorback Boar to be specific, given its name due to the sharp spikes on the boar''s back that could cut through a tree with relative ease. This was the first time Richard saw one up close, and instead of leaving its corpse outside he decided to take it back to the city with him.
People have taken the corpse of a monster before, but they found no real use for it. Their meat was tough and not the best when it came to using it as food. Still, Richard was interested in it.
Besides that, there were stalls on the road after you entered the city. People were selling goods, but their stalls were basically empty.
"What are we doing with this?" Big Oar asked as he motioned towards the goods strapped to the piece of wood they dragged all the way from Disceroa.
"We''re taking it to my workshop, after that you are free to go. If you''re interested, there will be more work soon." Richard said.
Carl raised an eyebrow at that. "You going to get another one of those carriages?"
Richard smiled. "Maybe, but given the situation as of now I''m not sure. But, I do have something in mind that will require guards." He explained.
"And the pay?" Earl asked.
"Same as last time, but this is more... long-term so expect an increase the longer you work with me."
All three men looked at one another, satisfied with the terms Richard gave. "Then what are we standing here for? Let''s get going!" Big Oar declared.
Benjamin, having observed the exchange, leaned in to whisper to Richard, "You sure are one to keep interesting company."
Given what he witnessed about the three of them, he''d have left them a long time ago. What Richard saw in keeping them around was beyond him.
"Offer extends to you as well if you''re interested."
Benjamin grinned, "Think I''m alright for now. Someone paid me quite a sum while we were outside the city. Should last me a while."
Richard shrugged, he could still make use of Benjamin. "Suit yourself, but just let me know if you change your mind."
The remainder of their journey was mostly quiet, save for the occasional banter between Carl, Earl, and Big Oar. It didn''t take them long to reach the workshop, and Richard once again realized how lacking the building was. He needed something better than this, but for making what he has so far it''s worked.
"You can drop everything here. Thanks for the help," Richard directed once they reached their destination.
"Don''t forget the reason we came back," Benjamin reminded him, nodding towards Richard''s pouch where the Scrying stone was safely kept.
"Yeah, I know, I didn''t forget. Just need to check on my workshop, then I''ll be ready to go." Richard assured him as he walked towards his workshop.
Gregor was standing there with a white cloth over his head covering some of his red hair. He looked surprised to see Richard. "Richard!" The burly dwarf exclaimed as he set down the hammer in his hand. "You''re back already?"
Richard noticed that his workshop was fairly clean, as if someone had cleaned up the mess he left. He had parts and pieces lying around his workshop along with papers scattered around here and there before he left. Now the papers were stacked on top of one another and the parts he had lying around were now on the wooden shelf.
"Yeah, ran into a bit of trouble but made it back in one piece. You cleaned up here?" He asked.
Aye, thought it best to keep things orderly, lest prying eyes decide to wander in your absence. But tell me, what sort of trouble?" Gregor asked with a slight crease of his brow.
He knew that Richard was set to go to Disceroa and Valewater, but given his carriage and hired guards there should not have been any trouble that they''d have a problem dealing with. If anything they could just run away given his verlpax''s speed.
Gregor took another look at Richard, the young man seemed to be fine but he couldn''t help but feel that he should have went with him. He chose not to and instead decided that it was best to work on his own skills, but if Richard was in some sort of trouble then. Gregor didn''t know, it''d be a shame if the world lost Richard, there was still so much in his head, so much to learn. So much that the world has yet to see from him.
Richard hesitated for a moment, weighing his words. "I''ll fill you in later. Right now, I need to set aside the merchandise and seek an audience with the Lord," he explained
Gregor''s expression grew serious, understanding the urgency. "That sounds grave. I''ll help however I can, but you owe me a full recounting, perhaps over a meal instead of a drink," he suggested.
He wanted to be sober for this, even if a drink sounded good any time of the day. Besides, he knew that Richard wasn''t one to drink, which was odd but Gregor was used to it by now.
Richard had a smile on his face after hearing that. Gregor was the closest thing he had to a friend here in Evergreen if he wasn''t a friend already. "Can do, but Roxanne still has supplies to cook with? And something to drink?"
"Aye, she does. That day you left... a lot happened." Gregor paused for a second. "As we walk, I''ll catch you up on the happenings here. You should''ve seen the look on those blacksmiths'' faces at the association when I introduced them to your steel. Managed to perfect the technique, and their iron might as well have been wood with how easily it broke. They''re all clamoring for a taste of this steel, I can see them grinding their teeth already." Gregor let out a boisterous laugh.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Richard''s interest was immediately piqued, a spark of excitement in his eyes. "Is that so?"
"Indeed. It seems we''ve started a bit of a revolution here, my friend. And they''re all eager to learn from us," Gregor replied.
An idea flashed through Richard''s mind. One he thought about before and even talked to Gregor about it. The circumstances then didn''t permit him to implement the plan to the fullest, but things were different now. Knowing what he knew, he could leverage it to benefit him.
One thing he knew a lot about was crafting and blacksmithing. He thought he could create a transportation method and become a merchant, building up a small empire of trade and establishing something similar to what Amazon or Walmart had. Yet, maybe his failure was just a sign.
He couldn''t help but laugh at that ridiculous notion. A sign? Richard''s never been one to believe in faith, but it was never too late to.
Observing Richard''s sudden amusement, Gregor couldn''t resist the infectious laughter, though his was rooted in the recent bewilderment of their peers at the association. "Seeing their faces, thinking they''ve stumbled upon some mythical ore, was priceless," he chuckled, sharing in the moment but unsure of the joke''s origin.
Richard, catching his breath, waved off the misunderstanding. "Not that, Gregor. Do you recall our conversation from months back?" he probed as they neared the workshop''s entrance, his tone shifting to a more serious undertone, signaling the importance of his next words.
Gregor''s expression turned to one of puzzlement, his memory failing him momentarily.
It wasn''t a surprise, it had been a few months since they discussed the matter but Richard never forgot. His carriage did work, and he could get more ore. He saw it in Disceroa, which was only a day''s travel away. While the price might not be the cheapest around, it was still possible.
"Steel, remember? We talked about the potential it holds, untouched by the market here. If my initial venture didn''t take off, I''d do this," he reminded Gregor, a flicker of excitement in his eyes at the prospect.
"Aye, that rings a bell now," Gregor admitted, a moment of realization washing over him. "You''re thinking of creating more of it to sell?"
Richard nodded, pleased with Gregor''s catch-up. "Exactly. The association is teeming with skilled blacksmiths, both human and dwarf alike, all eager for a piece of steel. I want to meet them, especially the leading figures."
"What are you planning?" Gregor couldn''t help but ask. Even now, he couldn''t read what was going on in Richard''s mind.
Richard gave a soft smile. "I want to see if they''d be willing to work with us. After all, we are only two. But, if we can get all the big-named blacksmiths here in the city to work together, I have a way to fill all our pockets. But first, I need to talk to the Lord."
Gregor nodded and opened the door. He saw Benjamin and scowled, there was something about that man that just didn''t sit well with Gregor that''s for sure.
.....
Lord Kirk tapped a spot on the map, it was the city of Thornhill. Surrounding it were three armies, each army headed to one of Thornhill''s major villages. Lord Kirk''s finger stopped tapping the map. Surely by now, the news of the marriage and alliance had spread, not far enough to reach the southern cities, but there was bound to be someone in Disceroa or Vale who knew about it. Thornhill had to know this as well, but it was far too late for them to do anything about it.
Yet, it bugged him that they still had not made a move yet. Their gates were still shut as if the outside world didn''t matter to them. Soon after his armies took over the villages, the people would run to Thornhill. Their gates would open, they had to. No lord would leave their citizens to die, the ones inside would be in an uproar. If that happened a rebellion was bound to occur, which was fine by Lord Kirk.
What mattered the most was a swift victory.
Gazing toward the door at the sound of a knock, Lord Kirk commanded with an authoritative tone, "Enter," as he swiftly draped a long cloth over the map sprawled across the table.
Aiden, his most trusted advisor, stepped into the room, his demeanor serious yet respectful. "My lord, Gregor has urgently requested an audience with you," he relayed, anticipation subtly marking his voice.
Lord Kirk, momentarily preoccupied with the weight of his responsibilities, waved off the interruption with a dismissive gesture. "I haven''t the time for visitors at present," he stated, his mind clearly elsewhere.
However, Aiden, understanding the significance of the moment, pressed on. "Sir, he''s accompanied by the blacksmith you hold in high regard. Benjamin is with them as well. They insist the matter is of pressing urgency," he added, emphasizing the importance of their arrival.
A brief silence fell over the room as Lord Kirk considered this. "Benjamin, is it?" he mused, more to himself than to Aiden, a flicker of curiosity breaking through his initial disinterest. "Very well, let''s not keep them waiting. This had better be important."
Acknowledging the lord''s decision, Aiden nodded, sensing Lord Kirk''s intrigue at the mention of Benjamin¡ªa name not heard in some time, and one that carried with it an air of unresolved business.
As Lord Kirk rose from his seat, gathering his jacket he inquired, "Jun, is he still lingering about?"
Aiden caught the direction of his thought. "The leader of the Blackhawks? Yes, he''s taken to frequenting that tavern downtown. Shall I summon him for you?"
"Not just yet, but his time will come soon enough," Lord Kirk responded.
"You''re aware, of course, he''s been laying low since their return from the mission you assigned them¡ªthe one concerning the children''s abduction from the village," Aiden reminded him.
The last time he interacted with the mercenaries was when those children were kidnapped from the village. Out of everything the village held, they decided to take the kids. It was a mystery, and one he wanted solved so he ''requested'' for the Blackhawks to look into the matter.
A shadow passed over Lord Kirk''s face as he recalled the grim event. "Indeed," he sighed, the memory casting a dark cloud over his features. "To think they were all slaughtered, and for what purpose?"
"I don''t know sir, I don''t know. But we still don''t know who was responsible for it."
Both men were silent for a moment as they left the study, with the mystery of who would target children still lingering in their minds. Such an act was unforgivable, and someone had to pay the price.
Breaking the silence, Lord Kirk''s voice carried a calculated edge. "The citizens are restless, Aiden. They clamor for justice¡ªfor a scapegoat to bear the brunt of their fears and frustrations. It''s imperative we provide them with one, lest their discontent ferment into rebellion."
Aiden inquired, "Do you have someone in mind for this... unfortunate role?"
"Not yet," Lord Kirk admitted, his gaze fixed ahead. "But the wheels are in motion. Soon, we shall have our culprit."
Lord Kirk eyed Aiden, the man was in deep thought. At times like this, he wondered what his aide was thinking about because this wasn''t the first time some unfortunate soul ended up being the target of the citizen''s hate. Was Aiden beginning to change? He couldn''t, not when he needed him to guide Adrian long after he was gone.
He couldn''t help but wonder what kind of news Gregor brought him. "Have you any inkling what matter could be so urgent that it warranted this assembly?" Lord Kirk asked.
"None whatsoever," Aiden confessed. "However, both Richard and Benjamin were adamant that their news could significantly alter the course of our conflict." He watched Lord Kirk closely, gauging his reaction.
At the mention of war, Lord Kirk''s eyebrow arched a silent question in itself. "With Thornhill, you mean?" His voice carried a hint of disbelief. "Any intelligence regarding that fortress now holds little value, considering the surprise assault we''ve meticulously planned."
Aiden nodded, his thoughts aligning with his lord''s strategy. "Indeed, it might concern Disceroa instead. After all, Richard''s recent journey took him there¡ªand to Valewater. Their news could be related."
"Mmm, Gregor did mention Richard''s expedition to Disceroa and Valewater," Lord Kirk mused, his interest piqued. "I''m somewhat astonished he returned so swiftly, given the distance and the dangers that journey entails."
As they walked to the grand hall, Aiden responded. "Richard carried with him a verlpax from Issac. It''s expensive and doesn''t have many uses aside for ease of travel."
Lord Kirk''s interest visibly piqued at the mention. "Issac parted with a verlpax? That''s unexpected. The man''s reputation for greed precedes him. How did Richard manage such a feat?"
With a subtle smile, Aiden ventured, "Perhaps, in some ways, you and Issac are not so dissimilar. You both recognize value and act decisively to secure it." He paused, letting the comparison settle. "You acquired not just one, but several swords from Richard¡ªweapons that rival, if not surpass, those of Obsidian make. And at a cost that was... surprisingly reasonable."
Lord Kirk nodded. "Indeed. Now that Richard has returned, it seems prudent to commission a set of weapons for our forces. If this conflict extends beyond our predictions, any advantage could prove decisive."
"Do you anticipate a protracted war, then?" Aiden asked.
"In warfare, one must prepare for every eventuality," Lord Kirk stated. The mistakes made during their skirmish with Dustwell must not be repeated or else those on the council will begin doubting him and looking for reasons to see him off the throne. There were already some he knew wanted him gone, but that was of little concern at this point as it was merely discomfort with their situation. "The alliance between Evergreen and Devilin marks a new chapter, but it is essential we maintain a position of strength. We must ensure our advantage within this partnership."
"How do you plan to maintain and expand our advantage within the alliance?" Aiden asked.
Lord Kirk, his eyes scanning the vast, empty expanse of the hall with practiced caution, slowed his pace. "We will bolster our military capabilities," he began, his voice carrying a confident undertone. "An army equipped with weapons as sharp as obsidian will give us an edge." A small, knowing smile curled at the corners of his mouth, signaling to Aiden that his lord was several steps ahead in his planning.
"But what does that have to do with Devilin? Given the alliance with them, they''d want to secure these weapons for themselves as well."
Lord Kirk''s smile widened slightly. "That''s why Serena is there," he responded.
Aiden''s eyes widened in realization, the implications of Lord Kirk''s words dawning on him. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "Are you suggesting Lady Serena is to act as a..."
Before Aiden could elaborate further, Lord Kirk raised a hand, halting him mid-sentence. "Careful, Aiden," he cautioned, his gaze sweeping the hallway. "We are not alone, and walls have ears. We''ll discuss this more later, for now let''s see what is so important that Benjamin had to return."
38 – Privilege III
Evergreen, 4th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Richard watched as Lord Kirk came into the hall, his one good eye glancing over all three of them. The man walked next to another man, middle-aged wearing a long black quilted vest. Lord Kirk seemed to lock eyes with Benjamin for a moment, but as Richard observed Benjamin, the man was busy doing something with his fingernails. Benjamin''s background was something Richard was curious about, mostly because the knowledge he possessed was far greater than anyone else Richard had encountered so far in Evergreen.
Taking a seat, Lord Kirk crossed his arms. The tall man next to him stood with his arms behind his back.
"Let''s make this quick, I have other matters to attend to." Lord Kirk started out saying. "What''s this urgent news that requires my attention?" He was speaking out loud, but his gaze was seated on Gregor.
The red-haired dwarf pointed at Richard. "Richard here will tell you what''s so important," Gregor stated.
It wasn''t like he knew anything anyway, Richard never told him. Even on their way here, they spoke mostly about the ongoings here in Evergreen, as well as details about Richard''s idea to mass-produce steel. While he was curious about the urgency of Richard needing to meet Lord Kirk, Gregor wasn''t all that interested in what was about to take place. Truthfully, he wanted to know how Richard''s outing went and to learn more from the young man about blacksmithing. It just so happens that the outing Richard had seemed to be related to the news he came bearing, so Gregor could wait.
Richard nodded once at Gregor as he took a step forward. There were a few guards present but like the last time he came here, they stood still at a set distance from them. Close enough to act if anything were to happen, but far enough that no one would pay them any mind.
"I''ll get right to the point, considering I don''t believe there''s a need to dance around the subject." Richard opened his pouch and received the scrying stone that he obtained after the bronze box was destroyed. Seeing the object in Richard''s hand, Lord Kirk adjusted himself in his seat. He knew exactly what it was, he had two of them himself but never used them as he saw no need. "I obtained this on my journey to Valewater, and the information on here is of great importance to you."
Lord Kirk motioned for Aiden to retrieve the scrying stone from Richard, and Aiden wasted no time. As he returned to Lord Kirk''s side, Richard continued to speak. "I''m not sure how much of that information is true, but you can verify it yourself. As you can see the information contained within the scrying stone can be quite damaging if fallen into the wrong hands."
As he turned the scrying stone over in his hand, silence fell over the room, punctuated only by the subtle cracks of the torches that lined the walls of the grand hall. Aiden, standing a respectful distance away, watched his lord closely, attempting to gauge his reaction to the content contained within the stone.
Even as the transparent window was projected from the scrying stone, Aiden couldn''t read it. The text was backward from his angle making it difficult to read what was written, but from the facial expressions his lord was making, it was indeed grave. After a brief moment the transparent window that was being projected vanished as Lord Kirk''s gaze narrowed. "This is a serious accusation," he stated, his eyes fixed on Richard''s. "How exactly did you come across this?"
Reading Lord Kirk was a bit difficult, the man controlled his expressions perfectly. However, the tone of his voice shifted slightly in a way that startled Richard. The lord was shocked...? Seemingly curious to know of the source, which Richard could acknowledge. There was a history lesson Richard had to learn, but from what he''s picked up so far in his time here in Evergreen, he had a gut feeling something on the scrying stone had to be true.
His brain worked into overdrive as a seemingly meaningless memory emerged in his head. He was at the tavern run by Roxanne, gazing over a map. She was speaking to him, they were having a conversation. But, she said something to him.
''Take the river, it''s faster than walking, but you''ll cut through Dustwell territory and as long as you don''t cause any trouble, you should be fine.''
''Why do you say that?''
''There''s been a lot of bad blood between Evergreen and Dustwell, a lot of skirmishes at the border. This map must be new because this section here used to be under Lord Kirk''s control.''
''How do you know this?''
''My husband fought over the village that was there and died. As for the other bits of information, it''s merely second-hand rumors from listening in on conversations. Most of it I just take in and think little of. Unless the information is coming from the source, I don''t trust it much.''
His memory was a bit hazy, but he recalled there was a conversation like that with the woman. Evergreen and Dustwell fought over a village and Evergreen lost. How? Richard wasn''t too sure, nor was he interested. But, the scrying stone mentioned something about the battle. Valewater helped Dustwell in more than one way and was the reason Evergreen ended up losing.
Lord Kirk might have been doubting that skirmish ever since his defeat and blamed himself, his tactics, or some reason as to why he lost. But now, he had a valid reason to justify his loss, and it was due to a third party.
While the information itself may not be true, Richard was more than willing to bet that in Lord Kirk''s eyes, it was. Meaning, that even without verifying the other bits of information contained within the scrying stone, Lord Kirk was already thinking that most of it, if not all had to be true.
Aiden coughed once drawing Richard''s attention. "You will answer the lord, or I will see to it that-" Before Aiden could finish Lord Kirk raised his hand signaling the man to stop talking.
Richard nodded once before he spoke. "I did not know what it was, I was requested to deliver a box from Disceroa to Valewater. The requester was a man named Mitch, but he informed me that he was given the task by someone else. An unarmed source. In return for doing this, I gained information on the market in Valewater, as well as a contact in Disceroa who would sell me certain goods at a discount. On the journey to Valewater, my group ran into some raiders, presumably from Suncrest as they were chasing a group of villagers from Disceroa. The conflict with them ended up in the box being destroyed and the contents revealed. After recovering it, I decided to return here swiftly to bring this information to you."
"I see," Lord Kirk said as he rolled the scrying stone in his hand. "Can anyone attest to this?"
Benjamin who was uninterested in the whole affair thus far looked up. "I can. I was present when Richard received the box and during the conflict."
Benjamin planned on saying nothing if he could avoid it. Given who he was meeting with, he''d rather not be in the man''s sight. The main reason he was here was to make sure the scrying stone was delivered because he knew the implications it would have if Richard sold it to someone else. While Richard seemed to be a kind man, he was still a merchant. Merchants sought money more than anything else, so it wouldn''t surprise him if Richard did end up selling the scrying stone to someone.
While Benjamin didn''t care too much for Lord Kirk, he wasn''t one to betray his own interests or those of his home.
Lord Kirk''s gaze rested on Benjamin for a while. "Very well," he said as he placed the scrying stone on his lap. "The contents will need to be verified, but a reward should be given out for your loyalty." His eyes locked onto Richard''s. "For bringing me this scrying stone, I shall grant you one privilege that can be used for anything you wish. As long as it is within my power to do so."
Aiden''s brow raised after hearing that. Was the information that great? His lord hadn''t given out a privilege to anyone in years, and the last person to receive one was Issac. Issac asked to be exempt from taxes, which Lord Kirk granted allowing Issac to not pay taxes for anything until he died. Which in hindsight turned out not to be the best decision given the man''s wealth today.
When Richard came here, he was hoping to leverage the information to gain an advantage, but he wasn''t expecting something like this. Hearing that he could ask for anything he wanted made his heart leap out of his chest. What should he ask for? Many ideas were running through his mind at the moment, but he should settle for something that could benefit him now and in the future.
He would like an entire district within the city to be under his control, so he could use the district as he pleased. But it was unlikely to come to fruition as Richard was not nobility, or had shown any capacity to govern. He also didn''t plan to govern the citizens within the district, he''d use it to build the facilities he required for his plan.
"I''d like to acquire a few plots of land, large in size."
Lord Kirk was silent for a moment. "What would you use the land for?"
"The weapons I''ve made you before were unique," Richard stated, using Lord Kirk''s own words and not his own. To him, they were basic steel weapons, nothing more. The most unique ones he forged were the damascus steel ones that took more time and were of higher quality. "The uniqueness lay in not only how they were forged, but the material they were forged from. Steel."
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"Steel you say?" Lord Kirk looked at Aiden for confirmation, but his aide shook his head. "Where did you obtain this steel?"
Richard smiled. "I created it."
"Those are some bold words, and you must know lying to your lord is punishable by death." Lord Kirk said.
"It''s true!" Gregor interjected. "I couldn''t believe it at first either, but the lad even showed me how to make steel."
Lord Kirk waved his hand. "Silence! While you are in my presence Gregor, you shall not speak unless spoken to."
The burly dwarf puffed air as he crossed his arms.
"I''d never lie about such a thing. I am more than willing to give you a demonstration of the process, but given that this material so far has only appeared here I must suggest that the demonstration be limited to only a select few." Richard said.
Lord Kirk nodded once and motioned for Richard to continue.
"My plan for the land is to produce steel not only for weapons and armor but its applications can be used for a variety of projects. With your support, this venture could significantly enhance the military capabilities of Evergreen. And," Richard smiled at this part as he raised a finger. "Evergreen being the sole producer of steel would make this our specialty. Merchants from all over would come here once they learn and witnessed the usage of steel. Bringing with them merchandise and money."
"You speak of transforming Evergreen into a center for steel, an endeavor that promises both wealth and power," Lord Kirk mused. "Yet, such a venture is not without its risks. The secrets of steel, should they be as you claim, would be coveted by many."
Even he would take action to find out the secrets of a material that can generate superior weapons. He could still recall the first steel weapon Richard made, it took a while before the sword began to show signs of folding. As for the weapon Richard made later on, he shuddered at that. Obsidian was known for its sharpness, strength, and durability. However, the material was difficult to work with, which is why the weapons and armor made from it were so rare and expensive. Even more so the blacksmiths that could use obsidian were in high demand.
The Mitsugah that Richard forged last time was beautiful, and it only took a few strikes before his prized obsidian sword dented. His obsidian blade could cut through armor with ease, which is why it was feared on the battlefield. But the Mitsugah Richard forged was even of higher quality.
If he could outfit his entire army with such weapons, he could easily dominate the entire region. Yes, if such a person was able to do that, there would be countless others far and wide coming to find the person responsible for the creation of these weapons, and the material they were made of. After all, if such weapons could be produced on such a large scale, it meant the material wasn''t difficult to work with. No matter the resources required, he would try to find out how he could make his own.
Richard nodded, understanding the gravity of Lord Kirk''s concerns. "Indeed, my lord. The process and the knowledge would need to be closely guarded. That is why the land and the facilities on it would need to be secured and possibly even hidden from prying eyes. With your backing and the right precautions, we can safeguard the secrets and the production."
Which was the reason he wanted to keep Benjamin by his side. The man was skilled and could be in charge of the security of his facility. If things panned out the way Richard pictured, then it was safe to say that people would be trying to find out how to produce their own steel. Even if it meant paying someone on the inside to reveal the information. He couldn''t have that, and while Benjamin had a mysterious background, the man had proven himself to be trustworthy and capable.
Lord Kirk leaned forward, the weight of strategic foresight pressing into his words. "The safeguarding of this knowledge, Richard, is paramount. If we are to harness this advantage, we must ensure that it remains within Evergreen and does not fall into rival hands. The implications of a breach could be dire, not just for your operation but for the security of our entire realm."
He paused, letting the gravity of his statement sink in before continuing. "As such, we will need to implement stringent security measures. Military forces will have to be stationed at your facility for its protection. Only personnel vetted for their loyalty and trustworthiness will be deployed. Do you have any plans in place for this aspect of the operation?"
Richard, who had been contemplating the logistics of his ambitious project, nodded in agreement. "Yes, my lord. Security is a cornerstone of my plan. Benjamin, whom you''ve met, will be integral to establishing and overseeing the security protocols. His expertise, though not widely spoken of, is unparalleled in matters of defense and surveillance. With him leading our security, I''m confident we can protect the facility from both external threats and internal espionage."
Benjamin hearing this twitched, he was not at all going to work with Richard for the time being. He told him before they arrived here that he was planning on doing his own thing as he was well-funded from their outing. Now here, the man was telling him that he was part of his security. Benjamin never agreed to this, but seeing the grin on Richard''s face it seemed that he knew that.
Richard did what Anitta would say ''Throwing him under the bus'' a phrase he was still trying to wrap his head around.
"Moreover," Richard added, aiming to provide a comprehensive view of his security strategy, "I plan to incorporate a series of discreet but effective measures: including the construction of hidden compartments within the facility and restricted access to sensitive areas."
Lord Kirk nodded thoughtfully, apparently satisfied with Richard''s preliminary plan. "Very well. I am pleased to hear you''ve given thorough consideration to these matters. However, remember, the responsibility of this operation''s security doesn''t rest solely on your shoulders. As it becomes integral to Evergreen''s defense and economy, it will also be under the protection of my forces. Regular reports and updates to me or a designated representative will be essential."
"I understand, my lord," Richard affirmed. "I am committed to maintaining the highest security standards and ensuring that this venture serves to strengthen Evergreen, not expose it to new vulnerabilities."
"And what of the manpower?" Lord Kirk queried. "Such an operation would require skilled labor. Do you intend to train workers yourself, or do you have another source in mind?"
"I plan to start with a small team, training them myself," Richard replied. "As the operation expands, we could establish an apprenticeship program. Not only would this ensure a continuous supply of skilled workers, but it would also offer employment and advancement opportunities for the people of Evergreen."
Richard had Gregor to help him out with the training, but he''d like to have people capable of doing math and able to read and write. Finding someone like that outside of the nobility would be difficult, and he might have to deal with some snobby people who thought themselves better than others.
Lord Kirk leaned back, the gears visibly turning in his mind. "And the initial costs? Infrastructure, materials, security¡ªthese will not be insignificant."
"I am aware of the financial implications," Richard conceded. "I''m prepared to invest my own resources to begin with, but I will also seek investors. With the prospect of Evergreen dominating steel production, I believe we can attract the necessary funding. Additionally, the revenue from selling steel products and the economic boost from attracting merchants will more than compensate for the initial outlay."
He already had someone in mind to invest in him. If he wanted to wait and take years to build the facilities and equipment needed, then he could use his own money. But, for this project, Richard wanted to see it operational as soon as possible, which required more money than he currently had on hand.
As for materials and the like, he already had a way to secure the ore he needed. What was left was a viable route and a seller, something he could find in Disceroa. Or, he could go to Devilin, or across the river to Espheo and the like. The route had to be fast, one that could be completed in a matter of a few days if not shorter. With his carriage and verlpax, he could do it, so he mostly just had to find a reliable source of ore.
Lord Kirk''s gaze sharpened, his interest clearly piqued. "Very well, Richard. Your proposal holds potential, but it will require careful planning and discretion. I will grant you the land on one condition: that you keep me informed of your progress and consult with me before making any decisions that could affect Evergreen''s security or reputation."
"Of course, my lord," Richard said, a sense of relief washing over him. "I understand the responsibility that comes with this privilege and I assure you, I do not take it lightly."
"Then it is settled. Aiden," Lord Kirk turned to his aide, "prepare the necessary documents to transfer the land to Richard. And Richard," he looked back at the young man, "make Evergreen proud. You have been granted a rare opportunity; do not squander it."
"My lord, if I may," Richard interjected gently, ensuring he had Lord Kirk''s attention once more. "Once the steel production facility is operational, I propose entering into a military contract with you. With the enhanced strength and durability of steel weapons and armor, I believe we can significantly boost Evergreen''s capabilities in the ongoing war."
Lord Kirk''s expression remained contemplative, the flicker of strategic consideration passing through his eyes. "Your weapons have indeed proven superior," he acknowledged. "And the prospect of arming our forces with such quality is appealing. However, as you are aware, the war with Thornhill presses on even now. We cannot afford to wait indefinitely for this advantage."
"I understand, my lord," Richard responded, his tone earnest. "I assure you, I aim to have the facility up and running as swiftly as possible. I''m committed to supporting Evergreen''s war effort and ensuring our soldiers have the best equipment available."
Lord Kirk nodded, the matter weighing visibly on him. "We shall revisit this proposal once your facility is operational and producing as you''ve promised. For now, our focus must remain on utilizing the resources at our disposal. Your initiative could indeed turn the tide in our favor, but until it bears fruit, we must be cautious."
"Of course, my lord. I only wish to prepare for the future and ensure that Evergreen stands strong against its enemies," Richard said, bowing slightly to emphasize his dedication.
"Very well," Lord Kirk concluded. "We will speak of this again when the time comes. For now, focus on your endeavor."
With that, the meeting came to a close. Richard, Gregor, and Benjamin bowed and began to leave the grand hall. "Benjamin," Lord Kirk spoke up causing the man to stop. Richard and Gregor both paused as well to look back at them. "Stay behind for a bit, there''s something I''d like to discuss."
Richard nodded to Gregor and the two of them left, leaving Benjamin in the presence of Lord Kirk.
Benjamin rubbed the back of his neck as he walked back in the direction Lord Kirk was. He truly did not want to be in his presence, he''s been avoiding him all this time for a reason.
Lord Kirk looked at Aiden and nodded subtly. "You can leave us Aiden, I''ll be there in a minute."
Aiden bowed slightly and took his leave. Making sure to glance at Benjamin once before exiting the grand hall. He thought it was a pity that the man was born outside of marriage, or else his skills could be used to benefit the family. Yet, he was to never speak to the matter or his heritage to anyone, and after his mother''s death, Benjamin left the family.
"Yes, lord?" Benjamin asked as he stood in front of Lord Kirk.
"Relax, this isn''t a formal meeting. I just want to know how you''ve been doing after all this time. Have you spoken with your father?" Lord Kirk asked.
His father, Benjamin wanted to laugh at that. In his eyes, he had no father. It was even worse that the person asking could be considered related to him. Lord Kirk is his father''s brother and could be considered his uncle. If not for the fact that Benjamin was an illegitimate child born out of wedlock and was be forever a bastard.
39 – Privilege IV
Evergreen, 4th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Benjamin didn''t know where to begin, what should he say? He always assumed he would yell at his father, demand the truth about what happened. But, he felt nothing at the moment. While Kirk wasn''t his father, the man was his uncle and knew full well the ongoings of what occurred in the past. Ever since that incident, he ignored this side of his family and they never went out of their way to keep in touch with him. Not that he expected any of that to happen in the first place.
He wasn''t meant to be in the spotlight, he was meant to be a tool that could be used and tossed aside as they needed.
"I''m fine," Benjamin finally muttered, his voice laced with a detachment honed over years of distancing himself from this part of his family. "And no, I haven''t heard from him. I don¡¯t plan to, either." His gaze, steadfast and challenging, met Lord Kirk''s.
Kirk¡¯s smile carried a trace of amusement. "So, you haven''t heard then," he mused, seemingly unfazed by Benjamin''s standoffish demeanor.
"No, I haven¡¯t. And frankly, I couldn''t care less about the pretense of your concern. What do you want from me, Kirk?" Benjamin¡¯s patience was thinning; he was all too familiar with the dance of words, the veiled truths and manipulations that had characterized their interactions in the past.
Kirk¡¯s expression softened, if only slightly. "It¡¯s been a decade since you left, Benjamin. Despite everything, I thought it time we reconnected. You were never far from my thoughts, even if the circumstances... complicated our relationship."
Benjamin scoffed, arms crossed defensively. "And why should any of that matter now? You¡¯ve kept tabs on me, haven''t you? Always aware, always watching from a distance." Benjamin asked, but he already knew the answer.
There was hardly anything that could happen within the city that the lord was not aware of.
"It''s true, I¡¯ve kept informed. Your shift from monster hunting to working alongside Richard piqued my curiosity," Kirk admitted, leaning forward. "What changed? Richard must offer something unique for you to align with him."
"Retirement from one life led me to another," Benjamin replied tersely, uncrossing his arms. "Richard offered work when I needed it, and paid well enough. That¡¯s all there is to it. You didn''t keep me back just to know what I was doing, so why don''t you be honest for once and tell me what you want."
He was tired of this, and it irritated him to be in his uncle''s presence for as long as he was.
Kirk sighed, a genuine weariness in his posture. "If you insist on cutting to the chase, then let¡¯s. Your journey with Richard, and the incidents along the way¡ªI need to know if anything was omitted from the report. The details could be crucial."
Benjamin retold the story of when they left Evergreen, to their arrival in Disceroa. The encounter with Ben, Mitch, and the merchant Rodger. How they left Disceroa and headed to Valewater only to come across the raiders, the battle that ensued, and finally Ben''s betrayal.
Lord Kirk rubbed his chin. "I see, and what do you make of it? The scroll the man Ben took, you think it''s important?"
Benjamin rubbed the back of his neck. "No clue, but probably not. Considering the value of the scrying stone, that scroll is worth nothing. You know how those scrying stones work, it has the true information that the unnamed person wanted to be delivered. Knowing the current situation, I assume their plan was to start a conflict with Valewater and Evergreen. But, that''s not my problem."
"Indeed, you may be right. For now, continue your work with Richard. His plans could very well be what Evergreen needs to thrive once more," Kirk finally said. "Let me worry about the broader implications."
"Is that all?" Benjamin asked.
"One last thing," Kirk added, his tone carrying a rare softness. "Your father... he¡¯s ill. The priests doubt he¡¯ll see next spring."
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"I¡¯ve made my peace with that part of my life. His wellbeing is no concern of mine." Benjamin said as he turned to leave.
Lord Kirk watched silently as Benjamin¡¯s retreating figure disappeared from view, the weight of their exchanged words lingering in the air. In his hand, the scrying stone felt heavier, a symbol of the potential storm on the horizon. Rising from his seat, he made his way to the study, his mind racing with plans and contingencies.
Upon entering the study, a room suffused with the golden glow of late morning sun filtering through heavy drapes, he found Aiden. The aide was hunched over a massive oak desk cluttered with scrolls and parchments, a quill in mid-dance. Aiden looked up, sensing the gravity of Lord Kirk''s mood, and immediately rose to his feet.
"The discussions with Benjamin have concluded, then?" Aiden inquired, the undertone of his voice seeking more than just confirmation.
Lord Kirk gave a terse nod. "Yes, but our focus must shift to more pressing concerns." Placing the scrying stone on the table, he pushed it towards Aiden. "Examine its contents. You''ll understand the urgency of our situation."
Aiden¡¯s hesitation was brief, a momentary pause before his fingers wrapped around the scrying stone. As he activated it, light spilled forth, casting elongated shadows across the room. The text that scrolled in the air before him caused his eyebrows to knit together, his expression shifting from incredulity to dawning comprehension and then to concern.
"This... This is damning," Aiden finally spoke, his tone grave. Lord Kirk¡¯s nod confirmed his fears.
"Indeed. The implications are severe. The distance between us and Valewater is far, but Lord Ike would be willing to send his forces here if this information reached him. Even if it did not turn out to be true, it would still give him a just cause to take action. With our forces busy dealing with Thornhill, we are currently weakened. This information will be known soon to all those surrounding us, which is why we need to quickly make Thornhill surrender." Lord Kirk stated.
Aiden, frustration evident, clenched his fist. "Who would dare orchestrate such a betrayal? The defeat at Dustwell was a heavy blow, yet if this information holds truth, the fault was not yours alone. There''s a traitor amongst us, feeding our enemies." Aiden slammed his fist on the table. "This cannot go on without punishment."
Lord Kirk walked to the window with his hands behind his back. "Indeed, and it won''t. To divulge key information they have to be in a high position, one of the councilmen in fact. They are the only ones with knowledge of my plans. As for who it is, there are five on my mind that could act against me given the chance to. But, they''ve been pretty tame thus far, or at least pretend to in public."
As the gravity of the situation settled between them, Aiden carefully placed the scrying stone back on the table. "What would you have me do?" he inquired, readiness tinting his voice.
"We''ll need to verify the content of the scrying stone and strengthen our ties to Valewater. I don''t like the way Lord Ike works, but I can use the information there," Lord Kirk glanced back at the scrying stone. "To my advantage. Peter II was the one to copy the information onto the scrying stone unless the person used his name. Doubtful considering the expense of the stone. He is fifth in line to Thornhill, the brother of Lord Terrel. I always saw him as useless, but it seems that he has been working from the shadows. I''d like to find him and squeeze out all the information he has to offer, but currently, his whereabouts are unknown."
"I can bring back some forces to strengthen our defenses if you so desire, as well as observe those five individuals you have in mind. As for Petter II, wouldn''t he be in Disceroa?" Aiden suggested.
"He could be, but I consider that unlikely. Even if he is the unnamed person who asked for this to be delivered, he could have left the city long ago and be anywhere by now. No use in wasting manpower to search for him. However, I am curious about what Ben obtained."
"Ben my lord?" Aiden asked confused as he had not heard that name in the meeting Lord Kirk had not too long ago with Richard.
"Yes, I learned about him from Benjamin. Richard didn''t mention him, probably seeing it as an insignificant detail. Along with the scrying stone, there was also a scroll in the box Richard was supposed to deliver. While the man didn''t know what the scrying stone was, he saw the potential value in the scroll. Enough that warranted betraying Richard and the man named Mitch. I''d like to know what information he has." Lord Kirk said.
"Wouldn''t he be difficult to find? It''s been days, how would you even find him?"
"That is a problem, but from what Benjamin said he is traveling by foot. No food, no water. Unless he is skilled enough to live off the land, his first decision would be to find those things. Which means traveling to the closest village or city. Send for Julius, and fetch me those three men. Carl, Earl, and Big Oar. I only need one of them to identify Ben, the others can be rewarded for their services."
"I shall do so at once," Aiden said.
Lord Kirk turned to face Aiden. "Aiden, I want to know the names of the councilmen who are currently on the battlefield. Those who went themselves or sent one of their heirs. I''d also like to know the names of those that are still present within Evergreen and sent in a substitute in their stead without risking their heirs."
"It will be done."
Lord Kirk nodded. "On your way out, inform the chief that we will have a feast in a weeks time. That he should prepare as there will be fifty guests in attendance."
Aiden was silent but nodded his head. He did not even ask what the feast would be for, Lord Kirk knew and that was all that mattered. Besides, did his lord need a reason to celebrate?
40 – Arrangement I
Evergreen, 7th of Budrise, year 179 BN
"I see you''ve hired extra help," Richard remarked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as he settled onto a stool at the counter, the worn wood smooth under his hands. Roxanne, with a grace born of endless evenings behind the bar, finished her conversation with a burly man at the far end before turning her attention to Richard. It''s been three days since his return to Evergreen, but the first time he came back to the tavern.
Entering the building he was greeted by an almost full house, with people being seated all over and chatting about. Most of them were drinking out of their wooden mugs, tossing back their ale. A few women moved about charming up drunken men and causing the mood to lighten. The scene was different from what he was used to. Before he left there were only a handful of people present, but it seems that Gregor was right and a lot had changed. The air was laced with snippets of conversation, laughter, and the occasional burst of song.
The sight of scrambled eggs intermingled with vibrant greens on the patrons'' plates brought a smile to Richard''s face. It was a dish he had introduced to Roxanne, and he wondered how much she made off of that alone.
Roxanne''s response was punctuated by a radiant smile as she perched on her stool behind the counter. With a practiced motion, she brushed a loose strand of her chestnut hair behind her ear, her gaze meeting Richard''s. "Yeah, the end of the tide brought a surge of merchants to Evergreen, each bearing goods. I wasn''t sure when you''d return, and opportunity knocked," she explained, her voice trailing off as she reached for a wooden mug from beneath the counter.
She filled the mug with water, the clear liquid catching the light as she slid it across to Richard. "I couldn''t just sit by and watch the chance to grow pass," she added, the corners of her eyes crinkling with a smile that spoke of both apology and friendship.
Richard waved it off as if it were nothing. He would have done the same in her shoes given the opportunity, and the appearance of merchants was not something he could control. At least he didn''t travel all the way to Valewater for the goods she and all the other tavern owners needed. Then it''d feel like a wasted trip.
However, that wouldn''t truly be the case considering he would still be able to sell the merchandise for a decent price here.
"Don''t worry about it. Besides, I''ve brought back some goods myself. Might be something of interest to you," he tossed out the offer as he lifted the mug to his lips. At least Roxanne remembered he didn''t drink.
"I''ll take whatever you''ve brought back with you." Roxanne leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "To be honest, I have a feeling the influx of merchants we saw might have been a fleeting occurrence."
Richard met her gaze, a moment of silent understanding passing between them. "You think it''s due to the marriage and the ongoing war?" he ventured, piecing together the snippets of news that had reached him upon his return.
Pulling back slightly, Roxanne nodded, a touch of concern flickering in her eyes. "Exactly. The union of Lord Sline and Lady Serena was all anyone could talk about. Merchants seized the opportunity to travel under the safety of his troops, avoiding the usual threats that lurk outside our borders. Now, with Lord Sline engaged in the war, I suspect they''ll hesitate to venture far from Evergreen until peace is restored."
A light chuckle escaped Richard as he placed his mug back on the counter. "Seems my travels weren''t in vain, then. I''ll bring over my goods later today or tomorrow," he assured her.
Roxanne''s brow arched in mild surprise. "You can''t spare a moment now?"
Shaking his head, Richard''s eyes briefly flicked towards the door, as if expecting someone. "Not exactly. I''m waiting on Gregor; he''s introducing me to the local blacksmiths. We''ve got a meeting at the association later."
This piece of news seemed to catch Roxanne off guard, her eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise. Given Gregor''s almost daily presence in the tavern, it was unusual that she hadn''t heard about this meeting. "Really? That''s interesting. Planning on joining the artisans'' association?"
Richard took another sip of water, his gaze thoughtful. "In a way. I''m on the lookout for skilled individuals for a project. It''s nothing too exciting¡ªjust business and finding the right investors. Speaking of which, I managed to bring back some olive oil. Thought I might try making some fried chicken with it. Interested?"
"Fried chicken?" Roxanne''s interest was visibly piqued, her earlier concerns momentarily sidelined. "If it''s anything like the last recipe you shared, count me in. But I don''t have any olive oil."
Richard''s laughter filled the space between them, easy and infectious. "Well, I''m not looking to sell the oil, but I''ve got spices that could add a new kick to your dishes. Maybe spice up the stew a bit and charge extra?"
Roxanne nodded, already envisioning the possibilities. "That sounds like a plan. But tell me, any noteworthy happenings during your travels? I half expected you to settle somewhere safer than Evergreen, considering."
"Safety?" Richard scoffed lightly, the idea seemingly absurd to him. "Disceroa is embroiled in its own conflicts. I wouldn''t call it safe. Ran into some raiders on my way to Valewater. They wrecked my carriage, but thankfully, my verlpax stayed put. Could''ve been much worse."
Roxanne leaned in, curiosity lighting her features. "And Benjamin? Was he as helpful as you hoped?"
"He was...," Richard admitted, a note of respect threading his voice. "We avoided quite a few dangers, likely due to his guidance. He''s a bit mysterious, and knows more than he lets on. I''ve learned not to pry, but I can''t help but wonder about him."
"Mysterious, huh? Is that what you think?" Roxanne probed, as she was genuinely curious. Over the years, her relationship with Benjamin had evolved, granting her insights into his character that few others were privy to. His aura of mystery, she understood, could be quite pronounced to those on the outside looking in.
Richard, with a contemplative gesture, let his finger trace the rim of his mug. "Yes, that''s the impression I got. From the way you introduced him, I pegged him as a straightforward monster hunter, but there''s clearly more beneath the surface. I try not to meddle in others'' affairs, but I''d like to know his deal."
"Only one way to find out. Ask him, but I think the same could be said about you," Roxanne countered, her gaze narrowing slightly in playful accusation.
Richard, caught off-guard, raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"
"You''re mysterious in your own way." Roxanne began, her fingers enumerating his unconventional qualities. "For starters, your skill in blacksmithing is spoken of highly by Gregor, suggesting a mastery not usually seen in someone your age. You don''t look old enough to be a master smith. Then there''s the way you speak, the innovative spark in your discussions about future plans." She paused, raising another finger for emphasis. "That''s not all, you''re also able to cook. It''s rare here to find a man who not only cooks but openly shares and revels in recipes and cooking techniques. These observations barely scratch the surface there is more to be said."
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Richard''s laughter, light and unguarded, filled the air. If Roxanne only knew the truth of his age, the revelation would certainly upend her perceptions. He entertained the thought briefly, amused by the potential shock such a disclosure might elicit. Yet, acknowledging the era''s views on age and sorcery, he decided against revealing too much. The last thing he wanted was to find himself at the center of witchcraft accusations or similar superstitions.
"How old do you reckon I am?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.
Roxanne, with a thoughtful tilt of her head, studied him closely. "I''d say somewhere between eighteen and twenty," she ventured
Richard had a gist of how he looked, but he never had a chance to look in a mirror. The most he had was the reflection from the water, or when he forged a blade. Neither of those was as good as looking into a mirror. Mentally he was much older than the age Roxanne tossed out, but physically he could fit.
He himself did not know how old he was, when he arrived in this world he was alone in Evergreen. No family to speak of, and no one seemed to know who he was. The question of who he was and if he had family did pop into his head, but so far he''s just been taking things in stride. Why worry about something he had no control over?
"Let''s settle on twenty, then," he proposed, choosing a convenient answer over a deep dive into his unknown origins.
Roxanne''s expression narrowed slightly, she was disappointed in his reply. She had hoped to get an answer that would clarify some things for her, but she also didn''t want to pry any further.
As Richard''s gaze drifted over Roxanne''s shoulder, catching a brief tableau of tavern life¡ªa woman taking a seat on a man''s lap¡ªhe redirected the conversation to less personal territories. "Ever considered hiring more help?" he inquired, nodding subtly towards the scene.
As Richard''s gaze lingered on the woman who had captured his attention, Roxanne followed his line of sight, then shook her head in response to his inquiry. "No. Why do you ask?"
Richard offered a shrug, his voice carrying a hint of concern. "I''ve noticed many struggling to make ends meet, some even resorting to offering themselves, or worse, their children, for mere scraps. The aftermath of the monster tide has left many in dire straits."
"They''ll manage to find a way. The monster tide is a recurring nightmare that takes its toll every year. While it''s tragic, the people here are resilient. They find ways to bounce back." A smirk played on her lips as she probed, "Ever considered their offers?"
"No," Richard replied firmly. "I''m not keen on entanglements, particularly not with those who''ve had no choice but to offer themselves to the town at large." He paused, his expression sobering as he considered the risks that came with such liaisons, from diseases to emotional complications. As long as he could avoid catching one, then he wouldn''t mind messing around with someone. It''s just that so far there hasn''t been anyone who he met that hasn''t been with plenty of other men. Big Oar and the others didn''t seem to have a problem enjoying themselves, but that was them.
Turning the conversation, Richard inquired about Roxanne''s personal life. "What about you? Ever thought about remarrying?"
He knew that she lost her husband when he fought in a skirmish. His death was the reason she had the tavern in the first place. As they didn''t have a child together she gained the right to inherit his establishment.
Roxanne''s stance was clear and unwavering. "I value my independence too much. Marrying again could mean losing this tavern, my passion. It''s difficult to find someone who''d support me in this endeavor."
Richard nodded in understanding, his eyes sweeping across the lively tavern. "It''s not easy holding onto what you love, don''t let anyone stop you from doing what you enjoy. Though," he ventured carefully, "there might be room for some changes around here, perhaps even in the menu."
Her reaction was immediate, a flash of irritation crossing Roxanne''s features. She valued Richard''s culinary ideas, but his critique touched a nerve.
Noticing her discomfort, Richard raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I''m just suggesting there''s potential for growth. What''s your vision for this place?"
Her gaze softened a bit. Her initial goal was to keep the tavern up and running as it was her source of income. With that money, she could buy what she wanted, and enjoy the company of various people. She liked listening to them talk, as it was her main source of information about what was going on here in Evergreen.
She was content with that before, but after Richard introduced her to the scrambled eggs with vegetables, and began talking about different bread. Roxanne for a moment thought about ways she could expand her influence here in the city. How she could obtain more taverns and buy out her competition. Most of this was brought about by Richard''s talk of his trade route and his ambition to do something new.
It was only a moment, but she felt like she could do something similar. However, the lack of goods in the city and a menu that was far superior to the other taverns made her task of expanding her influence and obtaining more taverns difficult if not impossible. It was a short-lived dream, but one she wouldn''t forget.
"I don''t know..." Roxanne''s shoulder fell as she sighed. "I thought about having a unique menu that drew in people from all over the city, and buying other taverns. But, besides the scrambled eggs you''ve shown me, there''s nothing unique about this place."
"So that''s it? You''re just giving up when you haven''t even tried?" Richard asked.
Roxanne''s eyes met Richard''s, a flicker of frustration crossing her face. "It''s not about giving up," she countered, her voice softer now, which she rarely used in front of others. "It''s about being realistic. I''m running this place on my own, Richard. Supplies aren''t endless, I have to make do with what I have. Dreaming is one thing, but the reality is often quite another."
"Consider my own journey," he encouraged, leaning in slightly. "I had grand plans for a trading network. Sure, those plans hit a snag, and I found myself back here. But am I resigned to defeat? Far from it. I''m pivoting, aiming for new objectives while keeping the ultimate goal in sight. Adaptation is key, Roxanne, and it''s something you''re more than capable of."
Seeing her now, Richard was reminded of something from his past. He calmed himself a bit as his expression softened. "Dreaming big is crucial, but dreams alone won''t pave the path to success. You''re not alone in this. Look for allies, find those who share your vision and drive. I''m networking with skilled craftsmen and seeking investors for my project. Why should you shoulder your ambitions alone?"
Pausing, Richard leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. "I''m no tavern keeper, but I know a thing or two about trade. I also know various meals that are simple to make that you could sell to bring in more customers to the tavern."
Roxanne seemed taken aback by his reply. " "Why are you so intent on helping me?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Truthfully, I''d usually keep to myself, avoiding too deep an involvement in others'' business," Richard confessed. "But let''s just say you remind me of someone I know. I was by myself for a long time and figured that would always be the case. I missed out on a lot as the years passed me by." Richard clenched his fist as he gazed at it. "No more. I want to seize life, experience new things, and make the most of every moment."
"And that''s it? Nothing else?" Roxanne prodded
Richard''s gaze was direct, his intentions clear. "My help isn''t without expectations. Should I invest in you and this tavern, I''ll be looking for a return¡ªboth financially and in influence over business decisions. I believe together, we can make this tavern not just a local favorite, but the heart of Evergreen. A place for exceptional food and relaxation."
Roxanne considered his offer, weighing her options. "And your time? Can you commit to this?"
"Teaching you a few recipes and sharing my business insights won''t take much out of my schedule. The real question is how quickly you can learn and implement these ideas. So, what''s your decision?"
"Alright, I can agree to those terms as long as you have the time. Should we write a contract?"
"Later, after I return. We can talk about my expectations and how much I''d like in return. For now, let''s just enjoy this moment. Maybe even toast to our new partnership." Richard suggested as he raised his mug of water.
Roxanne giggled, and she didn''t see Richard as a bad person. There was still a lot she had to learn about him, but from what he''s shown so far he was interesting. If she met him years ago, long before she married, she wondered how her life would have turned out. Now she was a widow with nothing to offer him. She had no question about her looks, but the notion of him taking a hit to his own status wasn''t something she wanted for him.
It was best to leave things as they were, and let what she was feeling at this moment pass.
"Bah! I can go for a drink." Gregor''s voice echoed in Richard''s ear as the dwarf took the seat next to him. Richard didn''t even notice his approach as he was absorbed in his conversation with Roxanne.
Seeing Gregor and Richard interact with one another, she could only smile. What Richard would become, where he would go, Roxanne didn''t know. But she knew that he would be beyond her reach given enough time. She shouldn''t tie him down, but she couldn''t help but feel something she figured she wouldn''t feel for the longest time.
41 – Arrangement II
Evergreen, 7th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Outside of Roxanne''s tavern, Gregor and Richard were walking down the streets of Evergreen. Their destination was the association, where Richard would finally meet some of the local blacksmiths. As long as talks with them went well, then his plan to mass-produce steel could go into the next phase.
"Ugh, it stinks," Gregor complained, his nose crinkled in distaste, his hand pinching it closed.
Richard glanced down at the dwarf, wondering what he was talking about. The city always had a smell to it, people threw out buckets of piss and shit all the time. Out on the road, and that was by no means sanitary. It''s been so long since he arrived here and in that time Richard got used to the smell. Eventually something would have to be done about it.
"What are you talking about?" Richard''s voice carried a note of genuine curiosity.
Gregor''s glare was as sharp as the edge of a well-forged blade. "I''m talking about you."
Perplexed, Richard sniffed at his own clothing, as he arched his brow. His daily routine was thorough, given the circumstances¡ªa brisk cleanse in the chill of morning and a more painstaking effort to scrub away the day''s toil each evening. Soap was a luxury from his past life that he wish existed here. So far he''s yet to encounter a merchant that sold any, but, that didn''t stop him from staying clean as best he could.
"Tsk. Damn humans always smell," Gregor muttered under his breath.
Richard''s confusion deepened, his mind racing to understand the sudden change in his Gregor''s demeanor. "What are you talking about? You''ve never mentioned anything before. Is something bothering you?"
He tried to recall the moment Gregor took the seat next to him at the tavern, but the dwarf didn''t seem to act in any way that was out of the norm for him. The only thing Richard could think of was that Gregor only drank half of his ale before wishing to leave. He did not even partake in the conversation like he usually did.
Richard chalked it up to him not being interested since it didn''t have anything to do with smithing. There were few conversations Gregor entertained that didn''t have to do with blacksmithing.
Gregor''s frustration seemed to bubble over. "I should be the one asking you that! You''re practically drenched in that stench. I usually tolerate it, but today, it''s unbearable."
Richard paused, and Gregor followed suit as they both stopped walking. Richard, standing tall, met Gregor''s gaze squarely. "Gregor, you need to explain because I''m at a loss here."
Gregor''s expression softened a little. "It''s your mating scent," he said. "You''re emitting it so strongly it''s overwhelming." He paused, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Roxanne was covered in it as well. Made made my stomach churn whilst drinking."
Richard''s jaw slackened, words failing him. Mating scent? What was Gregor talking about? Instinctively, he inhaled, searching for any hint of the smell, yet found nothing amiss.
Gregor''s reacted with a shake of his head and a sigh. "Don''t bother trying. Your senses won''t pick up on it. If they were, perhaps you''d understand... and do something about it."
Richard''s eyes flickered as the initial shock began to dissipate. "You can actually detect pheromones? That''s...remarkable. But, really, what do they smell like to you?" His interest was piqued, drawing him closer to Gregor.
Gregor recoiled slightly, an invisible barrier rising between them. "Bah! Stand back a bit, will you? That scent''s going to cling to you for hours. To my nose, it''s annoyingly sweet. And, if you haven''t picked up on it, sweets aren''t exactly favored by my kind¡ªor me, for that matter. It''s why you''ve never seen me so much as glance at a piece of fruit."
Reflecting on Gregor''s words, Richard realized the truth in them. Neither Gregor nor his apprentice, Andy, had ever indulged in anything that could be considered sweet here in Evergreen. Even Richard had an apple here and there when he could, but those two, never.
"Perhaps we should consider postponing our visit to the association? Given its predominantly dwarven membership, my...current smell might not make the best impression," Richard suggested.
He steered clear of discussing the reason behind the scent. His interactions with Roxanne had been professionally cordial, albeit with an undercurrent of something more, something he hadn''t felt since Valorie. Valorie¡ªa name that brought forth memories of his youth, and their closeness. After his return from his tour overseas, he just couldn''t be close to her anymore and ended up driving her away. It was one of his biggest regrets in life, and he always pictured how things would have turned out if he leaned on her a bit more.
Richard was in no way an eunuch, and he did have his urges but he had enough self-control to not act on them whenever he saw fit. But, as he got to know more about Roxanne, he could potentially see himself with her. It wasn''t a sure thing yet, there was still a lot he wanted to know. However, out of everyone he''s come across so far, she was by far his best option.
Unmarried, not fooling around with the entire town, had a goal, even if she was somewhat unsure about it. Then there were her looks, she was beautiful and could hold a decent conversation. That being said, she had her own flaws from what he could tell, but who didn''t? No one was perfect, not even him.
And, she was emitting the same smell as him. Richard looked at Gregor once. He did say they were both giving off the scent, so that meant she was interested in him. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, it''s been so long that he had a difficult time reading cues. Some were just basic, but women were always strange. He didn''t want to misread anything, and besides some small banter here and there he''s kept everything professional. At least he hoped that was the case.
"Ugh, that grin of yours." Gregor clicked his tongue. "I shouldn''t have said anything."
"What? I see no grin." Richard replied with feigned ignorance.
Gregor shook his head. Now he''d have to find a new tavern to go to, least he wants to smell that scent every time he goes back to Roxanne''s with Richard. Worse if the two of them did hook up. How was he supposed to work with Richard then?
Thinking about it just made his mood sour. He enjoyed it more when Richard worked day and night blacksmithing, not worrying about relationships. In that regard, Gregor could understand and appreciate the man for his hard work. All they needed in life was the forge and their tools.
Then again, Gregor was single. Even his brother had a wife and kids. Finding a good dwarven woman was hard, and even harder to find one that could keep his interest. All they cared about was tossing back beer, fighting in the pits, and strongarming their husbands into doing their bidding. None of them ever cared about blacksmithing! It was truly the worst.
Shifting back to the matter at hand, Gregor addressed Richard''s concern. "To answer your question, there''s no need. You smell, but your work will speak for itself. They are already craving the opportunity to work with steel, but to work with you is another thing entirely. Gravenwish is the main dwarf you''ll have to impress, get him on your side and the others will follow. Although it won''t be that easy since Bojack has been talking about you." Gregor explained.
Richard, puzzled, furrowed his brow, casting a quick glance over his shoulder at a group of dwarves haggling over the price of grain. "Bojack?" he echoed, struggling to place the name among the multitude of faces and encounters he''s had in Evergreen.
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Gregor raised his eyebrow at that. "Well, it should. He''s the master blacksmith here in Evergreen, and you''re stepping all over his territory. He''ll also be present, and he''s not too keen on a human, especially one as young as you by dwarven standards, overshadowing his craft with your superior weaponry."
"Oh, him." Richard finally recalled who Bojack was. He only met the dwarf like once or twice, and that was in the presence of Lord Kirk. Other than that Richard''s never met him outside of the lord''s estate. "I''m not too worried about him, but who is Gravenwish? What makes him so special?"
"He''s the only dwarf here in Evergreen that managed to make something out of Obsidian. Not a weapon, but at least what he managed to craft didn''t break like all the others. His weapons are also well-known and he often forges equipment for many of the elite within the lord''s army."
Richard chuckled, "Obsidian, huh?" He glanced at a nearby stall where crude iron tools were displayed, their quality and workmanship below his standards. "Tried my hand at it. Very touchy. It blew up on me once." He shook his head before cracking a smile. "But, I''m going to try it again."
Back when he forged a weapon for Lord Kirk, instead of asking directly for gold tales Richard instead opted to gain large qualities of ore. Iron and Obsidian ore. While he had plenty of experience working with iron and could turn it into steel, obsidian was another story. The dark stone had a glossy shine to it almost like glass, but given what he learned from listening to Gregor and even the demonstration Lord Kirk provided. He knew that the ore was durable, as strong as low-quality steel since he couldn''t make anything too outstanding at the time.
However, it was a bit worse than damascus steel. But, was that truly the case? In the world of blacksmithing, the smith''s experience had to be taken into account when judging their products. Five blacksmiths that are given the same exact material will create five different quality works. So it could be that the sword Lord Kirk had that was made from obsidian was poorly made.
Steel was a lot easier to work with and create which was a huge plus to any smith. It was an advantage Richard wanted to exploit when he met with the members of the association. But, the challenge he faced when dealing with obsidian was fun and a new experience for him. If he could learn how to bend the ore to his will, it might turn out to be better than he imagined. It was also a fantasy ore, or at least never discovered on modern earth. This meant that there could be a lot unknown about it that the people of this world have yet to discover.
Gregor, listening intently, nodded in agreement. "Heating or cooling it down too quickly can do that. The ore is so expensive that it''s hard for blacksmiths to practice with it, and even then you''d still have to deal with the fact that it can fracture during the entire process if you put too much stress on it. But, it''s all worth it when you do manage to finish. It slices through armor as if it were mere cloth, its edge unrivaled. That''s the dream that haunts every dwarf with a forge and hammer. To create something of obsidian is to etch one''s name in the annals of craftsmanship."
"Well, sharp to a certain extent," Richard said. "It''s going up against iron, and that''s not saying much if I''m being honest. But, I can see why your kind chase after that dream. Doing the almost impossible is a feat that tempts all, and even I can''t help but want to achieve it at some point." Richard glanced down at Gregor. "But tell me, how many have managed to create something using that ore?"
Gregor looked taken aback by Richard''s question. "You don''t know? We''re talking about legends here, Richard. Their names are known across the entire continent," he said, a hint of pride in his voice tempered by a sigh. "Only twenty. Just twenty souls have consistently succeeded with obsidian."
"Know any? Like, personally?" Richard asked as they turned down a narrower alley.
The question seemed to draw out a deeper sigh from Gregor, his footsteps slowing. "Aye, one. I was his apprentice for years. Yet, he never fully recognized my efforts, never once acknowledged how far I''d advanced." His voice carried a weight, a blend of respect and unresolved bitterness. "Then the bastard went and got his arm bitten off by a Chubruh and his personality became the worst. So I left, he had nothing left to teach me and I figured within a few years I''d manage to reach his level."
"Ahh, and that didn''t happen?" Richard probed.
The dwarf laughed, a sound devoid of humor. "If I had, our paths would never have crossed. My fame would''ve dwarfed even the mountains." He paused, staring into the distance, "But here I am, with you, still chasing after something that seems fleeting."
"Speaking of which," Richard began, his voice echoing slightly off the close alley walls, "what exactly is a Chubruh? And how did your master end up meeting one?"
"The Chubruh," he started, his voice low as he recalled the terrible creature. "Picture a predator that lives deep in caverns. Slim, long, and agile. Unlike anything you''ve seen, its two most terrifying traits are its ability to blend in with the caverns, and the mouth at the end of its tail. That thing has a mind of its own, with teeth as sharp as an obsidian blade. It''s able to sever limbs in an instant."
Richard''s seen a few creatures so far during his stay in this world, but he''s never heard of one that''s been able to camouflage itself. The fact that it lived in caves was a relief, imagine if it was out in the wild open plains. He nearly shuddered at that thought. The movie Jurassic World taught him one thing, a predator that could hide itself was a dangerous one.
"My master, driven by rumors of a newfound ore whispered among the caverns of our homeland, embarked on an expedition with a band of other dwarves." Gregor paused, the memory coming back to him as if it happened yesterday. "But what awaited them was not the rumored ores, but a nest of Chubruhs. The rest... well, I''m sure you can guess."
Richard placed his hand on Gregor''s shoulder. "I don''t even want to know how you guys manage to mine ores with those things hanging about."
Gregor laughed at that. "They only appear in the deep caverns, it''s where the obsidian is found and why it''s so rare. My kind have only ventured so far, but Richard, there are rumors. Of other ores being deeper in them, ones that would put obsidian to shame. Can you imagine the possibilities? That is why my people go there because we all seek fame in one sense or another. Not to mention the idea of creating a weapon from a mysterious new ore is tempting. There''s also the money involved as well, people pay a decent amount of tales to bring back a batch of ore from down there, or to explore deeper."
As they emerged from the alleyway, it seemed that all life in the area converged upon a single structure. It was as tall as the lords estate, with a stone wall surrounding the entire building. Dwarves moved about with a purpose, shoving those standing still out of the way. A few humans were mingling with one another in the midst of a heated discussion.
Richard''s eyes took in the sight that was the Association. The entrance was wide open with the doors ajar and people constantly flowing in and out of it. He was pleasantly surprised to see an elven man come out of the facility, as he''d never encountered one here in Evergreen before.
The sound of metal striking metal in a relentless rhythm made his hand twitch. He felt the sudden urge to go to his own workshop and begin a new project right away.
As they approached, Gregor led the way entering through the metal gate. The first thing Richard noticed was the large bulletin board positioned near the entrance. It was full of sheets of parchment, some fresh others wittered away by time and touch. They were pinned to the board with a nail. He couldn''t help but read over a few. There were requests for ores, pleas for weapons and armor that were unmatched. Requests for masters to pass on their teachings, and offerings for various services at a set price.
Gregor noticed Richard''s interest in the bulletin board. "Bah! You''re too skilled to be looking at that thing. The majority of those offering their services have yet to make a name for themselves, freshly graduated apprentices. While the requests are from those who can''t afford a real smith of any kind. Come, wait until you see the inside!"
Richard nodded once but he couldn''t help but smile at the sight.
As they both strode forward, they entered the wide open doors of the association. The interior of the building was a vast, open space, its high ceilings supported by thick, ornate pillars. The air inside was alive with the sounds of negotiation, instruction, and the occasional laughter, echoing off the stone walls and wooden beams that framed the guild hall.
Directly ahead, three sets of stairs, each carved with intricate designs depicting various crafts, branched out from the main hall, leading up to the second floor where specialized workshops and meeting rooms could be found. In the center of this bustling hub stood a magnificent winding staircase, its rails adorned with gold. This staircase spiraled upwards, disappearing into the expanse of the third floor, which was where the associations most esteemed mastered had their own private workshops.
Amidst the flow of artisans and apprentices, a crate full of dark-colored ore caught Richard''s attention. It sat prominently in front of a dwarf whose appearance seemed as rough and untamed as the material he was peddling. His clothes were tattered, stained with the evidence of long hours spent laboring over forge and anvil, grease marks streaking his skin like battle scars. The dwarf''s hands, though grimy, were steady and confident as they gestured towards the crate, his voice rising above the din in an attempt to attract buyers.
Richard was attracted to the ore, its dark color made him wonder what it was, but being peddled out in the open like this made him suspicious. Before he could voice his interest, Gregor''s firm hand touched his arm. "Pay him no mind," Gregor muttered, his voice low but urgent. "That one''s trying to pass off that pile of trash as obsidian. It''s a common ruse around these parts¡ªpreying on the hopes of the naive. True obsidian has a sheen unlike any other. That," he nodded dismissively towards the crate, "is nothing but slag, leftovers deemed unworthy of a skilled artisan''s time."
Nodding once, Richard took Gregor''s advice to heart. "I''m going to check it out, looks like something..." Richard didn''t finish his sentence but his words caught Gregor''s eye.
"Like?" Gregor asked.
Richard gave a soft smile and approached the dwarven man selling the ore. "Five silver for the entire crate, no haggling!" The dwarven man said as soon as Richard stood in front of him.
Pointing to the crate Richard asked, "You mind?"
He gave a nonchalant shrug."Go ahead, examine it if you must," he grunted.
Richard reached into the crate and carefully extracted one of the ores.
The texture, weight, and appearance immediately caught his attention, it felt familiar to a mineral hes worked with before. This thought made his heart beat speed up. The possibility that it might be graphite¡ªa material of significant value and utility in his previous world for everything from industrial applications to the precursor for creating synthetic diamonds¡ªwas both thrilling and unexpected.
He could feel Gregor''s gaze on him, curious but still dismissive of the ore''s worth. He kept his poker face on as he didn''t want to show too much of an interest in the mineral. If he were to buy it outright, or even show some excitement others would become curious as to why and he didn''t want that. But first, he had to be sure this was what he thought it was.
To confirm his suspicion without drawing undue attention, Richard decided on a discreet approach. He gently pressed his fingernail against the surface of the ore, testing its hardness. The ore easily yielded to the slight pressure, a clear indication of its softness characteristic of graphite.
This simple action, seemingly innocuous to any onlookers, was a critical first step in confirming the material''s identity.
Next, Richard rubbed the ore between his fingers, a subtle test for its lubricity. Graphite, known for its use as a lubricant, possesses a distinctly slippery texture when manipulated. The ore between Richard''s fingers felt unmistakably smooth and left a slight residue, another hallmark of graphite. These observations, coupled with his initial visual assessment, solidified his belief that the ore was indeed graphite.
Satisfied, Richard placed the ore back into the crate, feigning disappointment. He shook his head, mirroring the vendor''s indifference, then turned to leave. Gregor, who had observed the exchange leaned in as they walked away. "Told you it was trash," he said, a hint of ''I-told-you-so'' in his voice.
Richard nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself. The realization that the natives of this world had yet to comprehend the full potential of what they deemed worthless was astounding. Graphite, considered trash here, could revolutionize several industries and crafts within the association and beyond. This discovery underscored the vast gulf in knowledge and application between his previous world and this one, and Richard couldn''t help but wonder what other materials were undervalued or misunderstood by the inhabitants here.
42 – Arrangement III
Evergreen, 7th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Outside the large made out Darkwood, there was a bronze plaque seated above it that read "Meeting Room." Gregor pushed the door open revealing the interior. The room is spacious, illuminated by firestone torches that cast a light over the individuals in the room. Five dwarves were seated at a large round table in the center of the room. Richard made note of their expressions, some seemed bored, others a little curious. As they stepped into the room, all eyes fell on the two of them.
Among the dwarves, two mirrored Gregor''s appearance with fiery red hair contrasted by deep black eyes. Yet, it was the striking figure of a dwarf with hair like smoldering embers and eyes that burned a fierce red, who caught Richard''s attention. He had his elbow on the table as his chin rested in his palm. His right hand was tapping on the table in a rhythm.
The others bore the traditional dark hair and golden eyes of their kin, with one in particular drawing a line of recognition from Richard. Leaning back, arms crossed, he bore the unmistakable signs of countless nights lost to the forge¡ªdark circles like smudges of soot under his eyes.
These were the most established blacksmiths here in Evergreen. Richard noticed how that elf he saw earlier was not present, and even when he was on the first floor he didn''t spot any elves. The floor below teemed with humans, yet here, amongst the masters of their craft, only dwarves held court.
It didn''t bother him, Gregor mentioned that master blacksmiths were usually dwarves so for the most established ones to be dwarves here in Evergreen didn''t come as a shock to Richard. Besides, all blacksmiths, human or otherwise, would eventually be working with him in some fashion. At least here in Evergreen.
Moving with a sense of belonging, Gregor approached the table and easily claimed a chair. "Gravenwish, Skull, Sully, Durrin," he announced, "this is Richard, the human I''ve spoken of." He settled into his seat, then turned, gesturing for Richard to join him. "And Richard, meet Gravenwish, Skull, Sully, and Durrin," he introduced, nodding to each dwarf in turn.
Bojack glared at Gregor as his name was not mentioned. Despite previous encounters with Richard, the omission of his name stung, a blatant disregard for his stature as master smith. His lips quivered imperceptibly with suppressed frustration and the bitter taste of being overlooked.
Richard, taking his place beside Gregor, offered a nod of acknowledgment to the gathered dwarves. Besides Bojack, there was one other dwarf that was giving him a strange look. Durrin, the dwarf with locks for a beard and tangled black hair. He was wearing a dirty tan tunic with thick gloves covering his hands.
"Well, let''s not waste any more time," Gravenwish interjected, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the room. The elder dwarf, with his closely cropped hair streaked with silver, and his thick beard threaded with wisps of white glanced at Richard. "Gregor mentioned that you managed to create a new metal, steel he calls it. I''ll be frank, none of us here believe that''s true, but given that we''ve seen the work you''ve made for the lord, we can''t help but be curious."
"You know damn well it''s true. You saw with your own eyes the marvel I brought in. Nothing like it has ever graced your forges, has it?" Gregor''s boast echoed with the confidence of undeniable truth.
Durrin, unimpressed, dismissed Gregor''s pride with a flick of his hand. His gesture was forceful, bringing his hand down on the table with a resounding thud. "It''s not the existence of steel we''re questioning, nor its worth. It''s the claim that a human," he paused, his gaze intensifying as it landed on Richard, "could be behind such an innovation. A metal surpassing iron, capable of enduring blows from obsidian? The dwarf responsible should be standing among us, not hiding behind..." His gaze shifted disdainfully back to Gregor. "A puppet. So, enlighten us, from which dwarf did you really learn this?"
Richard couldn''t believe what he was hearing. A chuckle escaped him, not out of mockery but from the absurdity of the skepticism. It wasn''t unexpected to face disbelief, but the outright dismissal of his capability stung with a hint of disrespect. But, he wouldn''t get upset over mere words.
"Bah!" Gregor scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Think what you want, but do you honestly think someone would hide from such an accomplishment? News would have spread if a dwarf managed to create steel, and you all know it."
Bojack interjected, "With the scarcity of traders lately, whispers of such a creation could very well have gone unnoticed." His eyes, sharp and calculating, landed on Richard. "And isn''t it convenient? A foreign human, claiming ownership of knowledge that could revolutionize our craft. It''s possible that he stole the knowledge and is claiming it as his own. He''s not from here right? Haven''t you found it odd that a human would possess such knowledge?"
Gregor opened his mouth to speak, but what Bojack said did have merit. Richard was not from Evergreen, and some of the things he said were just off. Not to mention, he was a human, and human blacksmiths were not renowned for anything special. There were a couple of ''master'' blacksmiths who were human, but their creations still lacked in comparison to a dwarven master blacksmith. However, Richard''s techniques, his knowledge, and the way he worked. That could be taught, but it''d take years, more years than he currently showed age-wise.
How would he even steal the knowledge in the first place? No dwarf would openly share knowledge that could change what they knew about blacksmithing, especially not to a human. Gregor was more inclined to believe that Richard''s ability was his own, not anyone else''s.
"Bah! You''re speaking nonsense!" Gregor finally returned. "There have been traders for days now, and have you heard anything about steel appearing? Have you?" The question was rhetorical as none of them heard anything that even resembled that. "Exactly! It''s only appeared here, and that is because of Richard." His eyes fell on Bojack. "You should know this best, considering he worked under the watchful eye of the lord and his guards. None of them had anything to say about his work, and there''s was no way Richard could have snuck a dwarf in to forge the weapon either."
At this remark, all eyes fell onto Bojack. They''ve all heard the whispers of a human smith''s unprecedented work for the lord, now found these rumors cast in a starkly different light. The notion that a smith, particularly a human one, had not only gained the lord''s patronage but did so under the vigilant eyes of his guards was a narrative none had considered. They were skeptical at first, yet the suggestion that their human counterparts would fabricate tales of skill for mere flattery was laughably implausible, serving no purpose at the craftsmen''s table. The glaring omission of this detail by Bojack, however, gave way to doubt and questions.
Bojack¡¯s eyes narrow, his jaw sets firmly, an unmistakable sign of his growing irritation.
"You¡¯re too quick to defend him, Gregor," Bojack retorted in his voice low. The flicker of doubt he had sown about Richard¡¯s origins and knowledge seems to take root, not in Gregor, but in the others who are listening intently. His gaze shifts from Gregor to Richard, then back. "And why is that? What''s in it for you?"
Gregor''s eye''s ignited with a fire that wasn''t there before. "Because I¡¯ve seen his work, Bojack. I''ve seen what he can do with metal. It¡¯s not just skill¡ªit''s art. And you¡¯d know that if you weren¡¯t so blinded by your own pride."
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¡°There¡¯s no need to argue and waste time,¡± Richard begins, his voice cutting through all the bickering going on. ¡°I didn¡¯t come here to be accused of being a thief, nor to be looked down upon.¡± His gaze sweeps across the assembled dwarves, meeting eyes, seeking understanding. ¡°I came here for a civilized discussion, to talk about an idea that could benefit us all.¡±
As the room fell into silence, Richard continued, ¡°But if we¡¯re going to sit here and act like children, then maybe that isn¡¯t the case. Maybe I¡¯d be better off working with blacksmiths of my own kind, or less well-known.¡±
Gravenwish sat up in his seat as he nodded in agreement. The conversation was being diverted from the main reason they came here. While reputation was important, it didn''t matter to him as long as he could gain access to steel. If Richard, a human blacksmith was capable of forging weapons from it that could be considered high quality. Then what about him? What about all the dwarven smiths in town?
"Yes, things have seemed to have gotten out of hand. Tell us, why are you here?" Gravenwish asked as he looked at Richard. "We wanted to know how to get our hands on steel, which is why we entertained this meeting in the first place. But, what about you? Why did you want to meet with us?"
Grinning, Richard leaned back a little in his seat. "To be honest, it didn''t have to be any of you. I could work with any blacksmiths in Evergreen, but," Richard paused as he looked at all of them at the table. "I picked you all because of your influence here within Evergreen, and maybe even beyond. This steel you want, I know how to make it. I wanted to meet for us all to cooperate and benefit all together."
"You all want to forge pieces, be it weapons, tools, or armor. You all want to make something that will last long after you are gone, and have a legacy behind it. While the reputation and respect you''ll gain from that is admirable, it''ll be hard to achieve if you continue to use iron. Sure, obsidian is an option, but we all know how difficult that ore is to work with. More importantly, it''ll be expensive to continue being a blacksmith here in Evergreen. Trade is essentially nonexistent from merchants coming from other towns, and we have no mines of our own here for ore. So, what does that mean for us? Prices will continue to rise until there''s no ore left on the market to buy, blacksmithing will become much harder to do, and we''ll have to venture out to another town in hopes of restarting. But outside of these walls, outside of Evergreen monsters roam. The dangers you''ll face out there are more than any of us would ever ask for." Richard stated.
Gravenwish, his expression contemplative, interlaced his fingers thoughtfully. "Are you saying you have an answer to this?"
Richard nodded. "The answer is something you want. Steel. I want to work with you all to produce steel, on a scale that can benefit us all. As you know, and Gregor has shown, steel is something that''s only appeared here so far. It''s durable and strong, best of all it is easier to work with than obsidian. What blacksmith wouldn''t want to use it? None, that''s who." Richard''s index finger fell on the table as he made his point clear. "After producing the steel, we can use it to forge stronger weapons, armor, and tools. Best of all, as news of this spreads, blacksmiths will come wanting to obtain this metal for themselves. That means one thing, trade. The only place people will be able to obtain steel is here in Evergreen, so even if the journey is dangerous they''ll do it."
Sully, who had remained silent, finally chimed in. Stroking his thick, red beard, he cast a skeptical look at Richard. "Gregor praised you and your skill, but until I see it for myself I can''t see you as a smith." He noticed the looks he was getting from Gregor and spoke again. "But, that doesn''t mean your words haven''t caught my interest. Let''s say I join you in this plan on yours, to produce steel. What do I get out of it? You spoke of benefits, but I''d like to know what you mean exactly."
"The reputation you''d receive from being the, well one of the people who founded and produced steel will spread your name far and wide. People will remember you long after you''re gone. That fame, it seems to be something that all of you are after. That''s why you all are chasing the dream of creating a masterpiece. But, that''s just a mere drop of what you could gain. Wealth, much more than you have now. Influence that spreads far and wide. There''s also the knowledge of steel production, as well as having access to it for far cheaper than anyone else." Richard stopped there as he tapped his index finger on the table three times. "You have your doubts about my skill, that''s fine. But, I''ll show you what I''m capable of. Any of you can challenge me in smithing, and let''s see whose work is better. Your techniques are... lacking, and if you don''t believe me I''m more than open to accepting any challenge you throw at me that involves blacksmithing. While my words might seem harsh, it''s the truth. I can help you improve upon that, and share knowledge with you about something that you haven''t seen before."
Gregor crossed his arms and nodded his head with his eyes closed. He''d seen Richard''s skill for himself, and the young man was better than him. Which is why he asked to be taught by him. Though he may not claim the title of Evergreen''s finest smith, Gregor knew his capabilities were not to be underestimated, especially not by the likes of Bojack, whose boastful claims to mastery often rang hollow.
Bojack, for all his bluster, had not been Lord Kirk''s first choice for the position of master smith¡ªa fact that mattered little to Gregor. The titles and accolades were mere distractions from the true essence of their craft.
Sully, leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Very well, I''d like to see your skills for myself," he said, his gaze fixed intently on Richard.
Gravenwish raised his hand. "Wait, as much as we are all interested in his skill. His idea does have some merit to it, which I''m sure you all can agree. However, the costs of such a project would be enormous. But even if you settle that, how would promotion for steel even happen? Sure, we want it, but there''s no one else that''s interested in it. How would these problems even be solved?"
"Money is not a problem, I already have the Lord''s support for this project. The initial investment would indeed be high, but that''s being taken care of. As you said, there is currently no demand for steel besides from those that are sitting here. However, that will quickly change once production begins." Richard leaned forward. "The first batch of steel produced will be given to various blacksmiths for free, so they can experiment with it as they will. After, they''ll want more especially if the most established blacksmiths such as yourselves all use steel for their creations. This will create the demand here in Evergreen that we need, the most important part of this project is stretching that demand beyond Evergreen. Getting word to the other blacksmiths and cities, but for that, I also have a way to accomplish it. What matters now is if you all want in on it." Richard said.
"Then I have nothing else to say about this matter. Although, I''d like to see for myself the process of you making steel. If it''s simply making steel together, sure I''ll join you as there is a benefit I''m sure all of us present can see. As for working with you on anything else, that''s another matter and will require us to see your skill." Gravenwish said as he eased himself back into his seat.
Richard nodded once thankful that at least one dwarf here was being reasonable. "That''s fine by me, and I''m more than happy to show you the process. After, we sign a contract."
Durrin clicked his tongue. "A contract? You want us to sign on to work with you when we don''t even know you''re the one behind the steel?"
"You''re mistaken. This contract will be meant to keep you silent. The process of steel making is known to only me, and the more people that know about it the more likely it is for the process to spread. I''d simply like you to sign a contract stating that you won''t share the process with anyone else outside of this room who has not joined the project. Breaking this contract would mean you''ll have to pay me a sum of ten thousand gold tales." Richard said with a sly smile. "We''ll also have to sign this in front of the lord, or someone he trusts. As I''m afraid if you were to break the contract, you wouldn''t pay the fee. This way, the lord who has already given his support can take action. He very much wants this project to work out, and arresting a few dwarves wouldn''t be a problem for him."
"Ten thousand gold tales! Are you out of your mind?" Bojack shouted as he stood up from his seat. "No blacksmith in all of Evergreen has that much money saved up. The majority of the council members wouldn''t even have that much, let alone us."
"I feel that''s a fair price to pay, given the rarity this steel currently has. It''s up to you if you want to sign the contract, and you won''t have to pay the fee as long as you keep your mouth shut. I''m not willing to show anyone the process unless they sign." Richard stated.
All the dwarves besides Gregor looked at one another. They were silent, thinking it over. This was fine by Richard, he came up with that insane price for a reason. He wasn''t sure if NDAs existed here, but given that the steel production method had to stay a secret for as long as possible he was sure Lord Kirk would agree to be a witness to the signing. Even if no one here signed it, there would be some people out there that would.
43 – Arrangement IV
Evergreen, 8th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Gazing up at the night sky, countless stars were shining down onto the planet. Yet, Richard could not make out one constellation. He wasn''t an astrologer or someone who studied the stars and the universe. But, he did know a couple of constellations, the most common being the big and little dipper. Neither of those could be seen here.
How people found different constellations astounded him, it was a giant mystery. When he gazed up at the stars, he only saw a mess of lights, and even when someone pointed out to him where the big dipper was and how it looked. Richard still could not see or understand how people considered that to be part of a bear constellation. He just couldn''t see it.
It was the same here, his eyes were trying to find out if there was some mystical creature drawn in the night sky. But he came up empty.
With a rueful shake of his head, he continued on his way to Roxanne''s tavern. He went there earlier in the day to sell her the goods he managed to obtain in Disceroa, but she was too busy at the time to learn how to make fried chicken. Thus, he opted to swing by later on tonight when she said things would start to die down.
As Richard made his way down the dimly lit streets of Evergreen, the town was silent. The road he was walking along changed from a dirt path to stone pavement. The homes weren''t anything extraordinary but could use a lot of renovation. They had thatched roofs to shelter the occupants from rain and snow, with others boasting sturdy, tiled coverings.
His own home was his workshop, and it also had a tiled roof. It was made of stone and kept out the cold for the most part, but it lacked any insulation. Usually, he made do with a small fire to keep warm, during the cold nights when his fur blanket wasn''t enough. The people of this world were strong, he could appreciate that.
A wry chuckle escaped him as he mused over the dependence of Earth''s younger generations on technology. The mere thought of them grappling with the rudimentary sanitation of this era¡ªchoosing between a bucket and a nocturnal trek to the outhouse¡ªstruck him as comically implausible. Yet, amidst his amusement, a pang of nostalgia for Earth''s conveniences¡ªsoap, showers, quality clothing¡ªcrept in, only to be sternly dismissed. Time had blurred, with a year, perhaps more, having quietly slipped by since his arrival. Despite his wealth of knowledge and skills, he had no tangible achievements. He had minor successes but nothing that left a significant impact.
The realization that he had yet to exploit his potential to its fullest gnawed at him. Armed with the knowledge of another world, he could have revolutionized his living standards, and introduced the luxury of heated baths, or even a rudimentary shower system. Yet, he''s done nothing of the sort. Thinking about it now, even his ''home'' wasn''t really a home. Letting out a weak laugh, he couldn''t help but glance at the items he was carrying.
He''s gotten a chance at something people would kill for. A second chance at life, even if the world wasn''t the same, he still had his knowledge. But, he had nothing to show for it. Not during the time he''s been here at least. Anyone else given the same time as him could have, would have accomplished something of note. But him, he was failing.
Gazing up at the night sky once more, Richard couldn''t help but think. What did he want for himself? What did he want to accomplish in this life? He wanted money. It was something he never had an abundance of in his previous world, but would that be enough? Did he only want to gain endless wealth?
Right now, at this very moment, he had a chance to change the entire world. To set the course for a history that''s never been seen before.
He''s thought about it maybe a few times as to why he was here, in this world. What was his purpose? He had to, it was hard not to think about the reason as to why he was here. He''d be stupid to not have that question pop into his head.
Was it... was it so that he could change the direction of the world? No. That''d be too ambitious, and he''d never be able to accomplish something like that. He didn''t doubt his skills as a blacksmith and craftsman, but changing the world? That was out of his reach, he knew that.
But, given the technology level of the world at large right now from what Richard has seen. They were probably lower than ancient Rome, or at least equal to them. Producing steel here, when it''s yet to be discovered would accelerate the technology level of this world by centuries if their course followed the same as his world.
Even with the fantasy elements he''s seen so far, this world would take centuries to catch up to Earth. But, was creating steel all he should do? Which led him back to the question he asked himself before. What did he want here? What did he want his legacy to be?
The world was too large for him to change, but Evergreen? Richard looked around at the surroundings. There were a few men lost in their drunken stupor, wobbling along the edges of the street or slumped against the cool stone walls. A couple he could see vomiting. No women walked the streets, and the city never seemed to be teeming with life. It was like everyone here was stuck in a routine.
Evergreen. He could transform this place. It''d take time, but he was still young. Richard wanted to make Evergreen the city everyone wanted to visit and live in, a place bustling with activity. Where he could use his skills best.
Better homes, roads, plumbing, baths, and the like. To bring in better food and culture. He didn''t care if people wanted to stay locked in their homes all day long, but he would like to see women be able to walk around. Seeing men all the time was not the best sight, and he was lucky enough to meet Roxanne. She seemed to be the only free woman here, and that was saying something. Then there were the slaves, they also had to go.
Until now, Richard had maintained a distance from the lives of those around him, content to remain an observer rather than an active participant. Yet, the realization that he could catalyze significant transformation within Evergreen sparked an unfamiliar sense of purpose within him. For the first time, he contemplated the impact of his actions not just on his own life, but on the community as a whole. Evergreen presented him with a place where he could leave a lasting mark, an opportunity to redefine what it meant to live and thrive in this corner of the world.
Another modern person might say he''s thinking too small, he should aim higher or do something else. But, this was what he wanted.
A sigh escaped his lips as he dreaded what this meant. He''d have to be involved in politics, which he disliked. The crap politicians of his world drove it to what it was, and there was a lot he could say about Earth. Yet, there was a positive for every negative comment he could mention.
Besides, if he managed to become rich then he''d find a way to maneuver the council to support his ideas. A lot of people say money can''t solve all your problems. Those people never had enough money to solve their problems. Because in his view, anything under the sun can be brought with money.
He picked up his foot and started to move once more. Any change he wanted to make, he had to start with himself. Changing Evergreen would be his goal, his long-term one. His short-term goal was starting a profitable business, and starting a family. Something he lacked back on Earth, but he thought possible here.
As he neared Roxanne''s tavern, the muted sounds of the night began to give way to the faint hum of life within. Going inside he could hear the murmurs of conversation. One man was slumped over the wooden table with his right hand gripping the mug but his eyes were closed. The majority of the seats were empty, there were only seven people remaining here.
At the counter he found Roxanne cleaning out some mugs. Beside her, a new hire¡ªa young man with the sturdy build of a laborer and dark, tousled hair¡ªmaneuvered a barrel of ale with ease. Richard wasn''t sure if the young man was a slave, he never did get around to asking her that.
He approached the counter and sat down placing his pot down.
"You actually came back," she remarked, setting down a freshly cleaned mug.
"Yeah, said I would, didn''t I?" Richard replied, his tone light, betraying a hint of amusement at her doubt.
Roxanne nodded, her gaze momentarily drifting over Richard''s shoulder to the remaining patrons. "It''s just so late, and I figured you''d be busy," she admitted, her attention returning to him. "It''s almost time to close."
Richard''s smile broadened, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he suggested, "Then you won''t have to work much longer tonight. We could use the time to discuss improvements for the tavern, beyond just expanding the menu."
Roxanne''s gaze lingered on the pot Richard had placed on the counter. "And have a meal too? Fried chicken?" She asked.
With a nod, Richard lifted the lid off the pot, revealing the chicken pieces submerged in water, prepped and ready for cooking. "Yes, fried chicken," he confirmed. His attention momentarily shifted to the young male worker busying himself around the tavern. Roxanne quickly clarified, "No, he won''t be joining us, but he''ll stay until we close to help manage the drunks."
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Richard nodded in understanding, "I can wait."
Roxanne, having finished with the mugs said, "There''s not much left to do out here." Her eyes made contract with the young man she hired, and he gave her a nod. Turning back to Richard, she suggested, "Let''s head to the kitchen."
Picking up the pot, Richard went behind the counter and into the Kitchen following behind Roxanne. A few customers raised their eyebrows at the sight, as this was a first for them. Seeing someone enter the kitchen that didn''t work here, and with Roxanne. A few looked at their mugs before glancing back at the kitchen door where the two vanished. Maybe they were drinking too much because Roxanne''s been known to never invite anyone to the kitchen.
There was very little change to the kitchen since the last time he was here. It was still spacious and stored the food that she used for the tavern. The wooden shelves on the left wall had more items on it that before, and he even noted a few that he sold to her earlier in the day were there. Those large bags of what he assumed to be rice were still stacked up in a pile without there seeming to be any notable change.
He did see that she had a whole section dedicated to storing eggs, which caused him to chuckle.
"What?" Roxanne asked as she looked back at him.
"Nothing," Richard replied, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. Approaching the stove made of red bricks the pot he was holding found its place with a gentle clink.
"Did you get the flour?" he inquired, turning to face Roxanne, who was now rummaging through a shelf.
"Right here," she declared, brandishing a small bag.
Richard clapped his hands with a light smile. "Great, now all we need are some spices to add flavor." At times like this he wished he could open up one of the cabinets in his kitchen and grab one of the many spices they contained.
Roxanne let out a laugh as her eyes wandered to the spices she had brought from Richard earlier. "I have what you sold me," she reminded him.
"True, but are you sure you want to use them? There are other dishes that they might work better for." Richard said as he didn''t want her to waste what she had on fried chicken. There was a limited supply of those spices, and once she was out, it''d be difficult for her to get them once more.
"It''s up to you," Roxanne said. "You''re the one who knows how to make fried chicken."
The prospect of bland chicken was unappealing, but given that Roxanne didn''t know what it tasted like would it even matter? He knew, but it''s been so long that he might as well be new to it just like her. However, he wanted to add a bit of flavor in, it would only add to the experience. "Why not? It''ll be a first for both of us," he decided.
"How about that Dragon Pepper, some salt, and Grium?" He suggested as he pointed to the items on the shelf. Without wasting a beat he continued, "The Dragon pepper and Grium aren''t in flakes, so we''ll crush them together and mix them in a bowl. Add in a bit of water to help create a paste before coating the chicken in it to add a bit of flavor."
All three of those items were picked up from Discero from the merchant, Erik he encountered. The Dragon pepper was supposed to add in a kick, and Richard hoped it lived up to the hype Erik gave it. While the Dragon pepper was ebony black with a crimson stem, the Grium were five small green balls attached to a brown stem. It wasn''t anything out of the ordinary Erik told him, but it was supposed to help with flavor.
"Is that how you usually do it?" Roxanne asked.
"No," Richard admitted. "Sort of improvising here, but under the circumstances, I figured it''s worth a try."
Roxanne moved about the kitchen grabbing the items Richard listed. She handed them to him, and Richard grabbed a wooden bowl. "Alright, we only need a little bit of it, so how about you do it?"
"You sure?" She asked.
"Yeah, why not? Shouldn''t hurt anything, you have to learn anyway. And if this turns out good, then once you get yourself some olive oil you can make it yourself." He encouraged.
Roxanne sidled up beside him, a flutter of excitement took her for some reason. Cooking a meal was usually never exciting to her, but the time Richard introduced scrambled eggs to her also made her feel this. Although, now they were alone together. Last time Gregor was here, and it was still daytime. She could feel her heart beating, she wasn''t supposed to, was she?
A deep breath did little to steady her nerves, and Richard''s unexpected touch on her shoulder sent a jolt through her.
"Nervous?" He asked.
A nervous chuckle escaped her. "A bit," she admitted, her cheeks warming with the confession.
Richard gave her a heartfelt smile. "Don''t be, you won''t mess up. There''s enough pieces of chicken in that pot, so if the first one doesn''t turn out right, we can adjust."
With a single nod, Roxanne brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She tended to do this when she was a little nervous, or if it was bothering her. Richard seemed so calm in this situation, that she wondered if she lost her charm. Besides the little playful banter they had every once in a while, she couldn''t figure out if he showed any interest in her. Normally the male would make it clear that they had some interest, but him, he hadn''t said a word.
Her confidence wavered momentarily; despite her undeniable beauty, could it be that she held no charm for him? Yet, why should such thoughts disturb her? He was just here to help her out, nothing more, nothing less. She had to stop thinking useless thoughts.
"Ok, I''m ready," she declared, her resolve firming as she picked up a knife.
"Trim just this portion," Richard instructed, guiding her hand along the Dragon Pepper, "We''ll save the rest for later." He then turned his attention to the Grium. "And for these, we''ll need only half of one. We can mix them with this," he said, his gaze scanning the kitchen until it alighted on a wooden whisk across Roxanne.
"To combine them, we''ll add a touch of water, stirring in the salt as we go. Got that?" He asked.
She nodded, her focus momentarily drifting from the whisk to Richard''s gaze. "I think so," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
The preparation was straightforward and swiftly completed. Richard opened the pot and grabbed one of the chicken strips. He cut them into strips to make things easier for them, and also because chicken strips were his favorite. Coating them in the watery paste, he then covered it in flour. A moment later, he did the same to four more strips.
"All that''s left is to fry them," Richard announced as he set about igniting the stove. He had moved to find a small enough pot for the oil while Roxanne was busy mixing the spices together.
Roxanne was strangely silent, something that caught him off guard. He looked back and saw her staring at the chicken he covered in the flour. Maybe she was wondering about why he was doing that, but she didn''t ask him. Was she trying to figure it out on her own?
Richard waited for the stove to heat up. Richard turned to Roxanne, noticing her distant gaze. "Are you okay?" He asked.
Roxanne''s focus snapped back, a soft, "Yeah, just... thinking is all," escaping her as she tried to mask her introspection.
"Want to share?" he prodded gently, his eyes searching hers for an invitation to delve deeper.
Exhaling a weary sigh, "Just life, my future, and what the future holds."
"Just keep moving forward, whatever comes you''ll handle it. If you can''t, just ask me for help, and I''ll see what I can do." Richard replied.
She didn''t want to ask for help but was thankful for the gesture. Still, the thought of leaning on another person had not crossed her mind, she''s been on her own for a long time now. Richard was something else, he just seemed to catch things that others would overlook. It was little things like that, that caused her to be attracted to him.
"You''re too kind," Roxanne murmured.
"Am I?" Richard asked as he noticed the oil was hot enough. The sizzle of chicken strips hitting the hot oil made his mouth water a little. "I didn''t think I was."
"Honestly, I''m surprised you aren''t married yet. Given you''re a blacksmith, and young there should be various women trying to marry you. Have no families come to you yet?" Roxanne asked.
Richard''s chuckle was low, tinged with amusement. "No, I usually keep to myself. Besides, I wouldn''t marry just anyone. Also..." His gaze drifted to hers. "I''m not sure how marriage works here."
"The same as everywhere. However, the lord and councilmen usually have grand weddings and invite people of status to attend. For people like me, it''s simple, we just go to the priest and they bind us together. No crowds or the sort." Roxanne explained.
"That is simple. I like simple. I''ll marry when I find someone, I''m not just looking for anyone." He smiled softly. "You interested in me?"
Her response was silence, yet the subtle flush creeping up the tips of her ears.
He could hear the sizzling of the chicken and turned his attention to it. Grabbing a piece he checked it, light brown and dripping with oil. It was done, just needed to dry off a little.
Taking all of the chicken out, he set them down into a bowl. In these quiet moments, his gaze often found Roxanne, not out of necessity, but a genuine fondness for her presence. Every time he talked with her, she made him feel a bit more at ease being here in this world. Although Gregor did the same, but they were different.
The chicken ready, Richard extended a piece towards Roxanne, who accepted it graciously.
"Moment of truth," he announced right before taking a bite into another strip he picked up. It was juicy, far more so than he first imagined. There was a sweet taste that greeted him first before the spice kicked in. It reminded him of buffalo wings so he loved it. Not something he expected considering the ingredients he used.
Roxanne''s reaction was visceral, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips as the blend of spice and tenderness overwhelmed her senses. It was an explosion of flavor, the spice mixing with the juicy tenderness of the meat. Unbeknownst to her, a drop of juice traced a path down her chin.
Richard chuckled as he watched her. "That good huh?" he quipped, reaching out to gently wipe away the stray drop. His thumb moved with a care that belied the casual nature of their cooking endeavor, pausing ever so slightly on her skin.
Roxanne''s gaze met his, and she felt a wave of emotions in that glance. Richard''s hand lingered on her face, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down Roxanne''s spine. Her breath hitched slightly, she felt like a little girl meeting her crush for the first time. His hand was warm and comforting, unlike that of her deceased husband.
His hand should have moved by now, but instead, she found Richard caressing her cheek. He was leaning in closer, and she didn''t pull away. She found herself drawn to him, the anticipation of what was to come making her heart skip a beat.
Their lips met softly at first, as Richard''s right hand held her waist drawing her in closer. His tongue slipped inside and intertwined with her own. She felt an electric shock course through her body as their kiss deepened.
Cornered by the counter yet devoid of any desire to flee, Roxanne found herself momentarily breathless, her back against the cool surface. She let out a shriek as she felt his hands move lower down her back. Richard lifted her up and set her down on the countertop. Their breathing heavy as she felt her heart racing. She never felt this before, it was thrilling. As their lips parted, Richard gazed at her softly. She didn''t even know that she had her hands around his neck.
Catching her breath, Roxanne searched Richard''s eyes for a sign of what this meant. Did he feel the same way as her, or was this simply a moment for him that would pass? Richard offered her a tender smile.
"Roxanne," Richard whispered, the warmth of his breath tickling her skin. "I¡ª"
She cut him off, a bit of uncertainty in her voice. "Do you not care about your reputation? Being with me, you''ll only damage it." She couldn''t help asking as she was a widow, and no longer pure. Richard would be going places far out of her reach, she acknowledged that and he had to have a status that fit. Being with her would only tarnish it.
Richard was caught off guard by the question. "What?" His eyes saw that this question meant a lot to her. "I don''t care what others think. Do you?"
44 – Arrangement V
Evergreen, 11th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Dating someone wasn''t a thing in this world, but to be fair, it wasn''t something relevant on modern Earth either until the late 1800s. However, at that time it wasn''t ''dating'' as people knew of it today. That form of dating didn''t begin until the 1970''s when people could go out with one another to public places and mess around. Meaning, it was relatively new.
For Richard, he wasn''t sure how he entirely felt about the matter. It''s been a few days since his kiss with Roxanne, and there was nothing else beyond just kissing. Which was fine, he saw no problem in that considering they didn''t know one another that well. At least, he thought that way.
What did bother him a bit was that they weren''t ''dating'' but rather in the process of getting engaged to be wed. Being married and having a family was something he did want, but it seemed a little quick for him. The process would take weeks or even months, it depended on the support they received from the community. They had to let people know that they were in a formal relationship, and from there they''d receive support of the marriage. With enough of the community behind them, they could get engaged and go to the priest to be wed.
The entire process seemed a bit too much, as there didn''t seem to be an inkling of privacy. One thing Richard liked was his private life, both in his past life and in his current one. Keeping things to himself, or those close to him. But as they say, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. In this case, he was here in Evergreen, so he had to adapt to some of their customs.
Scratching his head, Richard sighed as he looked down at the sheets of paper in front of him. They were on his wooden table inside his workshop. There were two piles, one on the right that contained the contracts for the blacksmiths, as well as another sheet that contained his own interests once he met with his investor today. On the left were sketches of a few projects Richard had in mind. There was the design of the carriage that he created long ago, but also two weapons he sketched but never put any thought into them as of late. One was a crossbow, the design simple for now as modifications could be made to it once he actually had time and the motivation to create it. The second was the ballista that could be mounted on Evergreen''s walls to shoot down at the monsters.
It was his first large-scale project, but one he was putting on the backburner for now. Both of these inventions could change Evergreen and the way they defended the city as well as pursued their own war goals. The main reason for not thinking about either of them for now was due to him lacking a bit of funds as well as going about his own goals. There was also the fact that the more he stayed in this world, the more he found in terms of materials that could be used potentially. Such as the graphite, which he didn''t expect to find but did stumble upon it on his outing with Gregor to meet the blacksmiths.
This left Richard wondering what else was out there that he had yet to encounter.
Besides the carriage and weapon sketches, there was also the design of the facilities he''d need to produce steel on a large scale. Along with his future home.
After his night with Roxanne, he returned home in a joyful mood he didn''t know he had in him. This led him to sketch out the design for his home, which included bedrooms, bathrooms, dining rooms, a kitchen, and the like. It was somewhat modernized, but he figured it would work here if he had the help to build it.
Looking out the window, it was sunny outside. When he woke up it was dark, but now the sun finally broke through. Richard was always one to rise early, and that didn''t change even after he arrived here. He awoke around five in the morning, but time was a bit hard to tell here due to there being no clock. At least he hasn''t come across any so far.
Letting out a breath, Richard gazed back down at the table with all the papers on it. He had to finish up his list that he was working on before he went to visit Issac. It was important to him, because this would be his life''s work.
The idea to transform Evergreen into a city that attracted people from all over was a grand ambition, and Richard knew that. There were a lot of thoughts going through his head right at this moment that he knew some people just wouldn''t accept. Times were different here, and so was the way people thought.
While he wanted the entire city paved with roads, some larger than others, he also wanted signs posted that told them what street they were on. A public bathhouse would be nice, to allow everyone in the city to be able to cleanse themselves on a daily basis. Food could be worked on, and would be accepted as long as it was tasty. No one could ignore a good meal, no matter what time period they were in. However, the introduction of sports such as football, the European kind, as well as baseball was something that he had to plan out. These sports weren''t as rough or bloody, so people might not accept it. The transition to these two sports would take a while, but Richard was willing to wait.
Looking further ahead, Richard set his sights on elevating sanitation standards and cultivating an appreciation for the arts within the next five years. Though not an aficionado, the music from his own past held a special place in his heart, and he envisioned the arts¡ªwhether through music or theatrical performances¡ªas vital to enriching the city''s cultural landscape and providing a respite for its people.
With that in mind, Richard dedicated himself to meticulously outlining the remainder of his plans. He delved into the logistics and potential strategies for bringing his vision to fruition
.....
Evergreen, 11th of Budrise, year 179 BN
As Richard crossed the threshold into Issac''s sprawling estate, his gaze wandered involuntarily, absorbing the grandeur that enveloped him. The mansion unfurled before him, boasting a staircase that gracefully arced towards the second floor. The dark wooden floorboard seemed to glisten as it reflected the sunlight coming through from the open windows. Unlike Lord Kirk''s estate that Richard''s been to, Issac''s had more of an elegant touch to it. There were pictures on the wall, but not ones that were hung as he was used to. These pictures were drawn and seemed to be embedded into the stone wall.
One such depiction arrested Richard''s attention: a valiant figure, armored and resolute, spear aloft, leading a charge under a blood-red moon. The scene was etched directly into the stone, a permanent testament to valor amidst chaos, and it left Richard momentarily transfixed.
Issac''s voice drew him from his reverie. "Come, the upper floor will afford us more privacy for our discussion," he suggested, directing one of the attendants clad in stark black and white to bring refreshments. The attendant acknowledged with a discreet nod and a graceful gesture, then departed.
Issac led Richard up the spiraling staircase, his hand lightly touching the polished wooden banister. The sound of their steps echoed through the grand hall, reverberating against the high ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes. "So, why have you come to me?" Issac asked.
Richard followed right behind him. "I believe I''ve stumbled upon an opportunity that could be of great interest to you," Richard began.
Issac, his demeanor unchanging, signaled for Richard to continue, his intrigue evident in the slight arch of his brow. "And what is this proposal?" he prompted.
"It revolves around the mass production of steel," Richard disclosed.
Issac''s eyebrows furrowed, his interest now fully engaged. "And just what is this steel you speak of?" He was familiar with many materials, but the way Richard spoke of steel was unfamiliar.
"Steel is far superior in strength and durability compared to what we''re accustomed to. Recall the sword I crafted for you¡ªthe one whose quality and edge surpassed that of iron, challenging even obsidian in its keenness," Richard elaborated.
A nod from Issac acknowledged the memory of the sword''s unmatched craftsmanship. "Indeed, the craftsmanship was exceptional, well justifying its cost," Issac admitted, now visibly intrigued. "But why, then, has this not been pursued more ambitiously until now?"
With a weary exhale, Richard addressed the challenge at hand, "It''s not for lack of trying. The process demands exacting conditions and resources¡ªmany of which are hard to come by. Moreover, the expertise required is not commonplace. I possess the necessary skills, Issac, but the resources are scarce.
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As they reached the upper floor, sunlight filtered in through tall windows, casting a warm glow on the intricate lining the walls. Issac motioned Richard to a sitting area, where the furniture was as opulent as it was comfortable.
Issac, settling into a chair with a posture that conveyed both authority and expectation, pressed Richard for clarity. "That still doesn''t explain why you sought me out, Richard. You come here with a proposal, I surmise, not just a discussion of ''what ifs''."
Richard chose a seat by the window, where he could see the garden in full bloom. It was a calculated move, the sunlight softened his features, and the view provided a subtle distraction, giving him a moment''s pause to collect his thoughts. "Issac, last we spoke, amidst the chaos of the monster tide, you showed a willingness to aid me," he said, turning to catch Issac''s eye. "You''re the richest man in Evergreen, so surely you can see where the potential of this venture will lead."
A rare smile cracked Issac''s usually impassive demeanor, softening the hard lines around his eyes. He took the seat opposite Richard. His gaze drifted momentarily toward the window, where his daughter Celeste lay immersed in her writing, the innocence of the scene not lost on him.
Issac''s eyes flicked back to Richard. "Wealth," Issac intoned, "is but a means to an end, a lever to amplify potential, to cultivate influence and wield power." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to permeate the air between them. Leaning back, he broached a personal inquiry, "Are you aware of how I amassed my fortune?"
Not many people did, so even if Richard didn''t know Issac wouldn''t look down on him. It wasn''t a story he often told people, but there was a lot to be said about his backstory. Things people could learn if they looked deep enough.
Richard was silent, wondering how he was supposed to know the answer to this question.
Issac''s gaze drifted back to the expansive window, offering him a commanding view of the lush garden below. "To the world, I''ve always been affluent, at least through the lens of the average citizen. Yet, I was never affluent enough to rub elbows with the true elite of our society," he mused, his eyes looked distant as he turned his attention back to Richard. "You resemble my father in some regard, with your short expedition outside the city walls to Valewater if I''m not mistaken. My father was a trader as well and managed to accumulate a large sum of tales. Enough to buy land, hire servants, marry two women, and build a large estate. His status rose with the money he obtained and he was able to tangle around with some of the lesser elite members of society, merchants like himself, as well as some others who managed to have a successful business. He was ambitious and invested his money into projects that were deemed to be successful and life-changing. Do you know what happened?" Issac asked Richard as he leaned forward.
"They failed," Richard replied as he could see where this story was going.
"Correct," Issac affirmed, the shadow of a past disappointment briefly crossing his features. "Every investment faltered, eroding our wealth and our standing. Those once deemed allies turned their backs; the familial bonds forged through marriage frayed. I never did see him as a strong man, but when he drank his life away that settled it for me. I never wanted to be like him, so with the ten gold tales he left me, I decided to establish myself. Seeing gold where others saw bronze."
Richard decided to bite, he was truly interested in what Issac did. This was a chance to learn a little bit more about the man. "So, what did you do?"
Issac turned away from the window, the sunlight catching the edge of his frame. "It was during a time when everyone predicted a bad season. ''The rains won''t come'', they claimed." Issac began as he began to pace slowly. "I saw through the panic, the fear everyone had on their faces. I knew the rain would come, the way the winds were blowing told me." He paused as he gazed at Richard. "So, I rented facilities¡ªvineyards, farms, places that produced essentials. And when the season defied their expectations, my facilities were full, overflowing with goods when the supply was scarce.¡±
Richard connected the dots, "And when there was little to no competition, you could up the prices."
Issac smirked, glad that the young man seated before him was smart. "Indeed, and the money I gained from that was merely the beginning."
"That''s a touching story Issac, but what does that have to do with me?" Richard asked.
The servant Issac asked to bring them refreshments earlier ascended up the staircase. With practiced grace, she navigated towards them, a silver tray in hand, its contents glinting in the sunlight filtering through the windows. Atop the tray sat an elegantly crafted vase, its white and gold facade speaking of refined taste, alongside two crystalline glasses. She delicately placed the glasses before them and filled each with a rich, ruby liquid that caught the light with every pour.
Issac dismissed her with a subtle gesture, his attention momentarily captured by the swirling wine in his glass.
"In one aspect, you remind me greatly of my father, yet in your ambition and market insight, I see reflections of myself. Such qualities are rare, and they merit support. I''m prepared to back your endeavor," Issac declared, settling into his chair.
"But, before that, I have a question for you. What do you want to do? In life, what''s your ambition? What is your goal?" Issac asked.
Richard chuckled at that. It''s funny that Issac mentioned what his goal was, since he''s been thinking about it for the past couple of days.
Richard glanced out the window. "I want to transform the city. You might think my goal is too broad, but what about yours? What do you want in life?"
Issac raised his eyebrow. "I simply want my family to sit with the elites, eat lavish meals, and continue to do so for generations to come. Never will they have to wonder how they''ll make it to the next day. That''s it."
Was that it? Richard honestly expected something else from the man, but hearing the story Issac told it seemed to align well so far.
"Seems a bit humble. Was that all?" Richard asked.
Issac took a sip of his drink before setting it down on the table. "That''s it. Your goal, however, will require you to have a lot of influence, connections to the right people, and wealth. I can facilitate the first two, but the financial aspect is something you''ll have to figure out by yourself."
Richard was undeterred, confident in the economic potential of steel production. "If I can commence steel production, the financial piece will fall into place."
Issac''s smile hinted at a broader vision. "Connections remain crucial," he mused, then suggested, "Lord Kirk is hosting a gathering soon. It presents an ideal opportunity to introduce you to Evergreen''s influential circles."
Richard was silent for a moment but nodded in agreement. "And, the steel proposal?" Richard asked.
"Ah yes, I do find the quality of the sword you forged to be a masterpiece. If it was indeed forged from steel, then I can tell that it will be in high demand. With the right reach, it''ll even be able to be sold in other cities. But, the cost of such a venture, what would you need?" Issac asked.
Richard, with a practiced motion, retrieved a neatly folded sheet of paper from within his tunic and laid it before Issac. As the parchment unfurled under Issac''s careful hands, it revealed a comprehensive list of requirements, accompanied by a meticulously calculated estimate of costs. Richard elaborated on the flexibility of the timeline, dependent on the workforce''s size and the initial quantity of ore available.
Issac perused the document, his expression betraying nothing of his inner thoughts. Yet, inwardly, he was markedly impressed. The depth of planning and the detailed considerations for both the construction of the facility and its operations surpassed even his own standards for thoroughness.
If Arthur had an inkling of Richard''s talent when it came to business, then he wouldn''t be concerned about his family. But, his son had other interests and disliked taking part in business matters.
Addressing Richard, Issac conveyed his decision, "I will oversee the provision of labor, construction, materials, and the requisite iron ore. Given the robust projections and the scope outlined here, I propose we expand the initiative to include two additional facilities. In return, I''d like three things. Exclusive rights to distribute and sell the steel in five cities of my choosing. A large stake in the operation, with a detailed report coming to me at the end of every month." Issac stated.
"The second one is a given, but the first one I''m not too sure about. I already have plans for distribution and selling the steel." Richard told him.
Issac smirked. "I can tell you the locations I plan to sell the steel if you are interested, but I''m sure they won''t clash with anywhere you''ve already set your sights on." Issac said.
"And the third condition?" Richard inquired.
Issac, with a pause that seemed to weigh the moment, took a sip from his glass before revealing his final stipulation. "You will marry my daughter," he stated, his gaze briefly shifting towards the window.
Richard''s reaction was instinctive, a sharp inhale of breath as the wine nearly went down the wrong way. Hastily, he placed the glass back on the table, his gaze fixed on Issac with a mixture of surprise and incredulity. "Surely, I misunderstood. You''re suggesting I marry your daughter?"
Issac''s confirmation was delivered with a calm certainty. "You heard correctly. The marriage would follow a formal engagement period of six months," he clarified, unfazed by Richard''s apparent shock.
Richard found himself at a crossroads, his voice tinged with hesitancy. "I''m not sure that''s possible. My affections are already engaged with Roxanne, and I barely know your daughter."
Issac''s dismissal of Richard''s concerns was as swift as it was unexpected. "Your current relationship is not yet a binding commitment, is it? My proposition stands regardless. My only stipulation is that my daughter be recognized as the primary spouse."
Richard was silent, he liked Roxanne. He''d known her for a bit now, but he was suddenly being asked to marry someone he hadn''t seen yet. He didn''t even know Issac''s daughter''s name, let alone her personality.
Sensing the crux of the matter, Richard sought clarity. "So, without agreement to these terms, you withdraw your investment?"
Issac''s response was pragmatic, bordering on indifferent. "While your venture promises innovation and profit, my financial ventures are diversified. Without your acquiescence to my conditions, my support is withheld."
With that, Richard rose, his resolve firming. "Then it seems I must seek partnership elsewhere," he declared, preparing to depart.
Issac, however, wasn''t finished. His voice halted Richard''s exit. "Consider the broader context. The ongoing war constrains resources and attention. Your project, while compelling, demands a significant investment in a fragile economy. Nearly thirty gold tales in fact, that''s a staggering sum for someone to part with given the economy at the moment. Few possess the means¡ªor the foresight¡ªto commit such funds."
Richard was silent.
Issac offered a concession, a bridge to understanding. "You haven''t met my daughter. Visit her in the garden. See for yourself the kind of person she is. Then, with all facts in hand, return tomorrow with your decision."
45 – Arrangement VI
Evergreen, 11th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Richard''s footsteps echoed softly against the polished stone floor as he followed the servant through the expansive corridors of Issac''s estate. Drifting in from the open windows, a cool breeze teased the edges of his clothing while the air was full of a lavender scent. Richard couldn''t spot any plants that were purple or reminiscent of lavender as he passed through the halls. The only time he was inside a home this large was when he visited Lord Kirk, but here at Issac''s estate, there was something to be said about it. Every detail of the building was screaming out at him, telling him how rich Issac truly was.
The seamless transition from the inside to the outdoor open space was striking. The garden had flower beds arranged in the shape of a symbol that he was unable to fully make out, their hues ranging from the deepest purples to the brightest yellows. It was quiet here, he could hear the sound of the leaves rustling and the distant chirps of the birds.
Past these walls, and in the neighborhood Richard lived in, he''d never be able to hear such sounds. The garden was clean, without dirt or grime, it was like night and day when one compared Evergreen to this garden.
Following behind the servant, Richard found himself traveling down a stone path that bordered between a small orchard on his left and a series of fountains to his right. Gradually, the area opened up revealing the heart of the garden. Ahead, an arched entrance covered by vines and red roses swayed gently in the breeze.
Celeste was seated at a circular table, her attention fully absorbed by the piece of paper before her. As the sunlight flickered through the leaves, it added to her beauty. She was visually stunning in her white dress. Not the same way her mother caught Richard''s eye, but in more of an innocent manner. The dress itself was simple, yet elegant, and complimented her blonde hair that cascaded down her back, with a few strands playing in the wind.
As he came closer, Celeste did not notice him, her eyes were glued to the paper that lay out on the table before her. Richard couldn''t help but admire that, he could relate to it. Being so absorbed in your work that you didn''t notice anything going on around you. He didn''t speak, but instead waited for a natural pause in her writing.
The servant took her leave, and the only ones left here in this space were Richard and Celeste.
When the movements of her pen stopped and lifted from the paper, Richard cleared his throat gently, not wishing to startle her too greatly. "What has you so absorbed?"
Celeste''s head snapped up as if awoken from a dream. For a fleeting moment, her green eyes widened in surprise. She observed the young man before her. A clean tan long-sleeve shirt, brown pants, and brown shoes. Nothing he wore made him seem like the wealthy type, in fact, he looked more like the common folk she often wished she could speak with.
"Who are you, and how did you come to be here?" She asked as her eyes darted from Richard to the surroundings, noticing that there was not anyone else present.
Richard offered a small smile, hoping to ease the tension. "I''m an acquaintance of your father''s. My name is Richard."
He thought she sounded young, and she even looked young. Richard couldn''t help but wonder if she was old even for marriage.
Seeing the blank look on her expression, Richard felt as if she had no clue what he was saying. "May I?" he gestured toward an empty chair, asking for permission rather than assuming it.
With a slow nod, she said, "Please."
Settling into the chair, Richard saw that Celeste grabbed the paper off the table and brought it close to her chest. Whatever she was writing must have been important to her.
Celeste''s gaze held his for a moment before speaking, "What business do you have with my father? Why are you here, and not with him?" Her question was straightforward, much to Richard''s likeness.
When he first spotted her, he was enchanted by her looks and wasn''t sure how he should approach her about the subject at hand. Richard never liked beating around the bush when it came to dealing with topics. The faster they got to the problem at hand, the quicker they could deal with it.
"I wanted to secure funding from your father for my business. He''s interested in it and would invest but he has a few conditions attached to the investment." He searched her eyes, but they weren''t reflecting an understanding of what he was saying, more of a curiosity. Richard wasn''t sure if he was reading her right, so he continued. "I can agree to his conditions, well most of them, except one. Your father wants me to marry you."
Celeste tilted her head slightly.
"What business?" Celeste asked in an excited tone as she scooted closer to the table. Her face flushed red as she gazed down at the table when she realized her mistake. "Sorry, I didn''t mean to pry. It''s just that I always wondered what sort of people my father associated with."
"Don''t be, it''s only natural to be curious. Have you not met any of your father''s acquaintances?"
"No, not unless he hosts a gathering of some kind here. I mostly just stay to myself." Celeste told him as she clutched the paper she held a little tighter.
"So, you don''t go out or talk to anyone?" Richard asked as he felt bad about her situation if that was truly the case.
"I''m not allowed outside the gate without an escort. But, I have my mom and Livy to talk to. And..." Her voice got softer. "There are others, that come over."
"That must be... lonely." Richard turned to look around at the vastness of the garden. "You never get bored?"
Celeste was silent, not sure what to make of the question. She''s never really spoken to anyone much outside of her family or those outside of her home. Even when she did, their conversations never went this way. It was more about making sure she was keeping up with her studies, not minding the business of her father or her brother, and keeping up her appearance.
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Truthfully, her mother is the only one that had taken an interest in what she wanted. No one has ever asked her if she was bored, she''s vented to others about it but never once had she been asked.
"Sometimes." She decided this was the safer answer. "But, I keep myself busy!" She quickly added as she didn''t want to sour the mood.
Richard slumped down a bit in his seat. "I don''t know if I could do it. Stay locked up in here, even with people around, it wouldn''t feel like they are. The same faces every day, all day."
He''s already been there and done that. Looking back on his previous life, he was lonely, he''d admit that. So he knew how it was, when you wanted to speak to someone but there was no one around to listen. When you finished a project that was challenging but didn''t have anyone to share that joy with. It was the small moments like that, that mattered.
Celeste leaned in closer. "What''s it like?"
"What''s what like?" Richard asked.
"Life? What is your life like? Livy told me stories, but I never had anything to compare them to. Is it as difficult as she says?" Celeste asked.
"Life is hard, but it is all about what you can make of it. Sure, it will make you feel terrible at times, but some moments bring you joy. Struggling with those around you, trying to make something of yourself. That''s the best part of this game we call life, because," Richard pointed to the large estate behind him. "Because, once you make it to the top. When you''ve accomplished most of your goals and what you set out to do, then what? What''s next? You no longer have that drive as you once did, you''re no longer struggling to reach the next height because there is none. You''ve beaten the game, so you sit around and enjoy what''s left while you still can." Richard sighed.
It was getting more and more difficult by the day to remember how he once looked. What kind of features did he have back on Earth? What was his first job? When were his parent''s birthdays? Pieces of himself, bit by bit, day by day were fading away. Staying in this world, getting accustomed to their culture, and adapting to the world around him. It was taking a toll on his body, mentally not physically.
There would come a time, maybe not now, maybe not even ten years in the future. But, he''d forget a lot about Earth and the wonders that the civilizations there had built. He knew he would, his gut was telling him so.
Richard gazed at Celeste, her eyes seeking more than what he just gave her. "My life and yours, they''re the same. In a way. I don''t believe life is easy, but I also don''t think I''d have it any other way."
"How come my father has never invited you over before? It''s like you..." Celeste stopped and shook her head.
"It''s like I''m what?" Richard asked.
"Nothing, it''s, not important." Celeste tightened her grip on the paper she held close to her chest. Raising her head, she stared at Richard. "Can I share something with you?" She asked.
Richard raised his eyebrow. "Sure."
She took a deep breath, her heart was beating fast. The words she always wrote on her paper, the thoughts she kept to herself. She wondered, she felt that Richard would understand them. But, what if he didn''t? What if he laughed at her?
Just thinking about that made her shoulders slump. Celeste knew she wasn''t supposed to slump down like this, especially not in front of people but she just couldn''t help it. Richard himself wasn''t putting on airs like all the others she encountered, he seemed to just be himself.
She could do it, she could take the first step to freedom. With another deep breath, she gazed up at the white ceiling of the dome that covered them.
"To find a kiss, A love I would give,
But chains of gold, on my heart do sieve.
For I am bound, by title and by birth,
To lands and legacies, not just earthly worth.
Yet in my soul, a fervent wish does blaze,
For one who sees, beyond the noble''s glaze.
A warrior of heart, not just of might,
Who fights for love, in the starless night.
In tales untold, and songs yet sung,
A love so bold, it can''t be wrung.
By duty''s call or fate''s harsh hand,
Beside me, a true heart would stand.
But here I sit, in gilded cage,
Scripting desires onto this blank page.
Longing for a tale of my own,
Where love is sown and fully grown.
Not for the crown, nor for the land,
But for a touch, a gentle hand.
To be seen, not as a noble high,
But as a soul, beneath the sky.
Yet dreams, they flutter, like leaves in the wind,
For what''s written in stars, by birth is pinned.
Still, hope whispers in the quiet of the night,
For a love that shines, in the darkest plight."
She opened one of her eyes slowly, wondering what Richard''s reaction would be. This was the first time she shared any of her work with anyone other than her mother, and Livy. When she noticed him, he was staring at her, not saying a word. Was it bad? Celeste couldn''t help but wonder.
"Wow," Richard said after a moment of collecting himself. "That was beautiful, did you write that?"
Celeste gave a nod.
"I honestly wasn''t expecting that. I''m a bit out of touch with poetry, it''s been... years since I''ve heard one. Give me a minute, I''m still trying to take what you''ve spoken." Richard told her.
He wasn''t sure what to say, and saying it was beautiful was what he felt at the moment. It sounded generic, but the last poem he ever heard was back before he got drafted. There was this woman, who he hoped he''d never forget who enjoyed art, music, and poetry. She used to tell him all sorts of poems, and being the man he was, he naturally wanted to impress her.
"Err, how did it go again?" Richard began mumbling to himself as he was lost in his thoughts.
"She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that''s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies."
"Fuck, I could never get the rest of it right." Richard scratched his cheek not realizing his words were being voiced.
"Y-y-you." Celeste was fumbling over her words as her face was flushed.
Richard gazed up, and furrowed his brow. He couldn''t help but wonder what she was going on about, nor why she was stuttering.
"It seems like you two are getting along." A voice said as a man approached the center of the garden where they were located. Richard was too caught up in his thoughts to hear anyone coming, and seeing the look on Celeste''s face, it didn''t seem like she knew either. He knew it was Issac, and when Richard turned to look, he was walking alongside his wife.
"You remember Silivia, my wife," Issac said as Silivia gave a soft smile to Richard.
Truly stunning, she was someone who would make men''s heads turn.
"Yes, I remember," Richard said.
"I mentioned the gathering Lord Kirk would host soon. I''d still like you to attend that event with me of course, but now that I''m looking at it. How about you go alongside my daughter Richard?" Issac said with a smile on his face.
Out of the corner of his eye, Richard saw a look of shock on Celeste''s face. He thought back on their conversation, and over the words she spoke in her poem. Then there was Roxanne and how she''d feel about the matter.
What he disliked was that Issac was putting him on the spot. Asking him this question right in front of his daughter, surely he had to know if Richard said no it would be embarrassing for her. Her pride would be wounded, and given the bits of her personality he''d seen thus far, Richard figured she would crawl into her shell and never come out.
But, he couldn''t just agree simply to spare her feelings. He had to think about his own feelings and those of Roxanne.
If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to go to the gathering. Not for Issac''s daughter, but more so for the potential people he could meet there. All of them would have to be rich or have some sort of influence in the city if they were being invited by Lord Kirk. Meaning, potential more investors he could pitch his business proposal to instead of just going along with the whims of Issac.
That alone, just that one fact made going all so much better.
"Fine, I shall accompany your daughter to the gathering." Richard agreed.
46 – Winds of Change I
Evergreen, 11th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Celeste lay draped in a thin velvet sheet, its soft caress against her skin a faint comfort as Richard''s words echoed in her mind. It wasn''t just the content but the form¡ªpoetry, a language she cherished but seldom heard from others. His response had been unexpected, enchanting even. Her mother had always emphasized poetry as a skill to captivate any suitor, yet here was a man who wielded the art form effortlessly.
She was taught many arts¡ªsinging to charm, dancing to captivate, and conversing to glean secrets from the circles she would someday move in. These skills were meant to elevate her husband''s status, to be the unseen force tipping the scales of power in his favor. Her mother extolled the virtue of a woman who could be both a companion and a confidante to her husband.
However, she initially disliked the lessons, as her tutors were strict. Celeste began to love poetry, the hidden meaning behind words, and the emotions they contained. While she could never outright say what was on her mind, she could in a poem.
It made her feel free in the world she lived.
When Richard first said her father proposed marriage between them, she was curious as to why. What kind of business was Richard involved in for her father to propose marriage?
Celeste knew it would come eventually, and her fate was sealed no matter how much she spoke out against it.
Marriage was an inevitability in her world¡ªa strategic alliance masked as a nuptial bond. Yet, Richard was different. He didn¡¯t flaunt the trappings of nobility; his manner was unassuming, his attire simple. His demeanor lacked the calculated polish of the aristocracy, and his straightforward speech, lacking in pretense, intrigued her deeply.
In their brief interaction, he had treated her not as a mere participant in a transaction but as a person. His gaze did not appraise but seemed to seek a genuine connection, and his voice, when he spoke of the marriage proposal, carried a hint of reluctance that piqued her interest further. He was unlike the men she was taught to expect¡ªa potential husband who might see her as an equal rather than a stepping stone to greater power.
Still, should she face marriage, Celeste wanted insight into her prospective husband''s mind, which is why she had crafted a poem to encapsulate her life and emotions. How he responded to it would reveal all she needed to know about him.
To Celeste, Richard''s embrace of poetry revealed an unexpected sensitivity. It was as though he had selected her own most cherished language to communicate, acknowledging and valuing her love for the art form. This act resonated deeply with her, suggesting he saw her not just as a prospective bride in a negotiated match, but as an individual with her own hopes and dreams.
The soft double knock on her door jolted her from her thoughts, causing Celeste to sit upright abruptly.
Her mother entered, her short curly blonde hair framing her face and her green eyes searching Celeste¡¯s. Silivia wore a flowing silk white dress that just grazed the floor as she moved.
"Honey, you''re not asleep yet?" Silivia asked, her voice soft.
Celeste drew her knees to her chest, hugging them tight. "No, I¡¯m just... thinking."
"Normally you''d be asleep by now. What¡¯s on your mind?"
"I don''t know. Just... everything."
Silivia¡¯s brow furrowed slightly in concern. "Is it about the marriage?"
Celeste nodded, feeling the weight of the topic.
Marriage was always going to be forced on her, she would never marry someone she loved. Now that it was actually here, she was afraid. There were too many what-ifs that kept creeping into her head.
Silivia sighed, sitting down beside her daughter on the bed. "And what do you think? Your father believes this man isn¡¯t bad, and that he could bring significant change to our city."
"I¡¯m not sure..." Celeste¡¯s voice trailed off as she pulled her knees closer. "He seems nice enough. But our conversation was so brief, I can''t really tell."
Silivia looked up at the ceiling, lost in thought for a moment. "Well, certainty in these matters isn¡¯t easy. When I first met your father, we hardly got along. He was blunt, often harsh, and I thought he saw little in me beyond an alliance. But over time, after he stood up for me, I realized he cared deeply."
"I didn''t know that," Celeste murmured, her voice low, almost lost in the plush softness of her surroundings.
Silivia turned to face her daughter, her gaze softening. "Of course not. He''s reserved about his past, always has been. I just want you to understand that your father wouldn''t steer you towards someone he doubted was worthy of you. If he believes Richard is the right choice, it''s because he sees something valuable there¡ªsomething perhaps not immediately obvious."
Celeste''s fingers played absently with the edge of her velvet sheet, her mind racing. She rarely saw this side of her father, Issac, outside the rigid formality of dinner discussions or fleeting encounters in the hall. His interactions with her were always overshadowed by matters of Evergreen or the intricacies of their social standing¡ªnot once had he inquired about her dreams or daily thoughts.
Feeling a pang of exclusion, she looked up at her mother, seeking clarity. "What do you think of him, mother?"
Silivia paused, her fingers tracing a pattern on the bedspread. "I''ve only met him a couple of times, and we haven''t really spoken much. He may not have the polished charm of a courtier, but I noticed something during our brief encounters¡ªhe seems to make you light up, even if just a little." She chuckled softly, a knowing look crossing her features. "And that, my dear, is not something to disregard."
"He did?"
Silivia shrugged lightly, her expression tinged with amusement. "Yes, when we approached earlier, you seemed different¡ªmore alive, somehow. You appeared genuinely happy, and that''s a rarity worth noting."
"You were watching us?" Celeste couldn''t help but ask.
Silivia''s laughter was warm and reassuring. "Yes, but it was your father''s idea. He wanted to observe how you two interacted before making his presence known. He''s quite protective, you know. As much as he supports this marriage, he wouldn''t leave you alone with any man while you remain unwed."
Rising gracefully from her seat beside Celeste, Silivia smoothed the folds of her silk dress. "Now, you should try to rest. We have a busy day tomorrow. We''re going into town to find you the perfect outfit for the gathering Lord Kirk is hosting."
Celeste''s face lit up with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. "I''m really going?"
"Of course, you are. Why would you think otherwise?"
Celeste hesitated, her smile faltering slightly. "It seemed like Richard wasn''t too keen on going. At least, not with me."
Silivia reached out, gently squeezing her daughter''s hand. "Don¡¯t worry about that. Tomorrow, we''ll find you the finest dress, shoes, and a necklace. And yes, we''ll even pick out a beautifully crafted verlovian to announce your engagement. When Richard sees you next, he''ll be lost for words."
"A verlovian, really? But we aren¡¯t even engaged yet," Celeste responded, her voice carrying a bit of excitement.
Silivia¡¯s eyes sparkled with confidence. "Given how your fathers were talking, your father is quite sure Richard will agree. But for now, let¡¯s not fret over the details. Sleep well, my dear; we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."
Evergreen, 12th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Richard held the black crystal between his thumb and forefinger, turning it slowly to catch the light. It was an enigmatic artifact, unlike anything he had encountered in this strange new world. The obsidian-like gem had been unearthed in a place Richard least expected.
A week prior, his ragtag group had ventured beyond the fortified walls of the city, returning not only with the remnants of their trade goods from Disceroa but with an unexpected prize¡ªa Razorback Boar. The creature, native to this fantastical realm, held a peculiar allure for Richard. More than its exotic nature, he was intrigued by its anatomical oddities, wondering if its flesh bore any resemblance to the terrestrial animals he knew. Also, he was curious if it was edible.
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The boar was a formidable beast, its skin a tough, leathery canvas stretched over solid muscle, interrupted only by the jarring whiteness of its protruding tusks. Alive, its pale green eyes shimmered with a ferocity heightened by an eerie, luminescent glow. But what truly fascinated Richard was its mane¡ªunnaturally sharp, the hairs were like fine, hardened steel wires. He remembered the sting of his finger when he carelessly brushed against them; a single touch was enough to draw blood.
The boar was quick-footed, capable of chasing down the fastest runner. Though not as swift as a verlpax, the boar was a relentless pursuer on foot. Its medium build belied a unique defense mechanism; it could curl into a tight ball and propel itself forward, its mane transforming into a deadly, spinning buzzsaw capable of slicing through trees as if they were mere paper.
He couldn''t help but recall how Carl almost died when it charged at him. Luckily Benjamin helped the man out, but that''s when they saw how devasting the creature''s charge truly was. The lone tree that had stood as their only cover was obliterated by the boar''s charge, leaving behind a gaping wound in the earth.
How was it capable of extending its mane outward and keeping its hair upright?
Richard was trying to figure that out, but so far nothing told him how that was possible.
Now, back in the solitude of his workshop, Richard puzzled over the boar''s most baffling feature. It lacked a heart, yet somehow functioned with the same vitality as any other creature. In its place, nestled within the cavernous chest cavity, lay the enigmatic black crystal¡ªtranslucent and gleaming subtly. It was disconnected from any natural life-support systems, no arteries, no veins¡ªnothing to suggest it served as a conventional organ.
The sound of the door creaking open snapped Richard from his contemplation. He looked up to see Gregor stepping into the dim light of the workshop
"Gregor, good to see you," Richard greeted, his voice echoing slightly in the confines of the workshop.
"Aye! What are you up to this morning?" Gregor asked.
Richard responded by lifting the black crystal, allowing the dim workshop light to illuminate its dark facets. "Ever seen anything like this?" he asked.
Gregor squinted at the object, then shook his head. "Afraid not. What is it, some kind of hardened steel?"
Richard chuckled, shaking his head. "I wish I knew. I found it inside the razorback boar," he explained, his eyes never leaving the crystal.
"That''s a first then," Gregor mused. "No one''s butchered one of those beasts in ages. Their flesh is like poison, else we''d never run out of meat here in Evergreen."
"The meat looked ordinary enough," Richard mused, recalling the surprisingly pink flesh. "If I had the right spices, I might¡¯ve tried cooking it. Luckily, I didn¡¯t."
Gregor nodded. "Deceptive, that. Looks harmless but is far from it. Down south, they serve it in taverns. Never understood how they make it safe to eat. They guard that secret fiercely."
Richard¡¯s brow creased with thought. "And you think this crystal has no function?"
Gregor shrugged. "You¡¯re asking the wrong dwarf, lad. Maybe your monster hunter friend knows something. Benjamin, was it?"
"That¡¯s a thought," Richard admitted, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Though he¡¯s disappeared since our return from Disceroa."
There was much about Benjamin that remained a mystery, and Richard had learned little about him beyond his profession and name. It seemed Benjamin had all but vanished.
"Then you might just have to wait," Gregor suggested lightly.
Richard nodded, his curiosity could wait. "It can wait. By the way, did you bring what I asked for?" he shifted the topic
Gregor reached into his pocket and withdrew a dark-colored stone, holding it out with a skeptical frown. "Here you go. Still can''t see why you''d want this, though. It''s just slag¡ªpractically worthless."
Richard''s grin broadened. "That¡¯s where you¡¯re mistaken. Its value lies not in what it is, but in its potential. You¡¯ve learned to make steel because I taught you, but recall how even small deviations in the process affected the outcome?"
Gregor scratched his head, his curiosity piqued despite his initial dismissiveness.
Richard, noticing Gregor''s confusion, elaborated, "It¡¯s all about the chemical reactions. When charcoal burns, it produces carbon monoxide."
Gregor stroked his beard, his interest growing. Richard¡¯s explanations often unveiled layers of complexity in what seemed like straightforward tasks. He wanted to know what this chemical reaction was, as he''s never heard the term before. But, there were a lot of words that Richard frequently said that he wasn''t used to hearing.
"Carbon monoxide acts as a reducing agent," Richard continued. "In the furnace¡¯s intense heat, it reacts with the iron oxides in the ore. The oxygen from the oxide bonds with the carbon monoxide, creating carbon dioxide and leaving molten iron behind."
Gregor nodded, his grasp of the concept visibly improving.
"But the process doesn¡¯t end there," Richard said. "The furnace environment is not only hot but carbon-rich. Some of this carbon dissolves into the molten iron, crucially influencing its properties. The amount of carbon absorbed determines whether you get iron or steel."
"So, it''s not just about melting things together and hammering them out?" Gregor asked, his earlier confusion clearing.
"Exactly," Richard replied. "It''s about controlling the chemical environment. The carbon content changes the properties of the metal significantly. Iron with a very low carbon content is too soft for many uses, while high carbon content can make it brittle.
Gregor rolled the dark-colored ore in his hand. "So, this slag..." he pinched the ore as he held it up, "What''s the purpose of it?"
Seeing how Richard asked him to get one, Gregor knew it had to have some purpose. What that was, he couldn''t be too sure. However, now his line of thinking was slowly changing after hearing what Richard had to say.
Richard¡¯s explanation had already begun to shift Gregor¡¯s understanding. "You know how I said the charcoal produces carbon monoxide, which is what''s needed in order for steel to be made? Well," he said, pointing to the stone with a knowing smile, "That my friend is called Graphite, a pure form of carbon."
Gregor''s eyes widened as he grasped the implications. "Hold on," he said, studying the graphite in his palm. "If that''s true, then the process of making steel could become simpler, and you''d no longer need charcoal. Isn''t that correct?" He asked just to be sure.
Richard nodded, his expression serious. "Exactly. We''ve been using charcoal primarily for two reasons: as a fuel source to generate heat, and for the carbon it releases. The reason steel hasn¡¯t been discovered here is because you blacksmiths use firestones for heat. They''re efficient, but they lack the chemical properties needed to make steel."
Gregor started pacing back and forth. He was excited, really excited. He hadn''t felt this way in a while.
"But if we use graphite to introduce carbon to the iron, then the chemical reactions should still be able to take place. Even if we use firestones. They are more reliable than charcoal. Firestones have a steady output of heat, last much longer, and we no longer have to worry about the smoke. Also, they form naturally, meaning we can buy them directly without having to create charcoal, removing a tedious step in the process." Gregor explained.
Richard watched Gregor pace, pleased to see his quick uptake. The moment he found out that what the others considered to be slag was graphite, the idea instantly formed in his head. It was amazing to see that Gregor caught on so quickly.
Richard stuck to the basics when it came to forging items he knew, he didn''t include any of this world''s fantasy materials. When he wasn''t crafting an item and just experimenting, he did use a firestone to see why blacksmiths actually liked using it. Which is when he learned that it was easy to ignite, kept a good steady heat, and required fewer resources.
Gregor stopped his pacing and looked at Richard. "But, if it was this simple then you''re mistaken Richard. Someone out there must have produced steel before, surely."
"Potentially," Richard conceded, "but the precision in carbon content is crucial. Too much carbon and the metal becomes brittle and unsuitable for tools, weapons, or armor. While it might still have some uses, most would deem it useless."
Yet, what Gregor said did pique Richard''s curiosity. "What makes you think so? That someone else produced steel or is producing it?"
Gregor nodded, his mind racing. "Consider this: the blacksmith who originally discarded this graphite as slag might not have known its value, but it¡¯s likely he experimented with it. He may have tried smelting it with bronze or iron, or even just tested it to see if it was useful. That''s just him, but there are bound to be others." Gregor explained his thought process.
Richard stroked his chin, intrigued by the angle Gregor proposed. "That''s a solid point," he admitted. "But if that were true, wouldn¡¯t we have heard about steel here, even if it went by another name?"
Despite the lack of widespread use, Richard¡¯s own steel had impressed many who equated its strength to that of obsidian¡ªa comparison that still surprised locals.
"You make a good argument, but it won''t deter our plans. We have the necessary components to not only produce steel but to refine high-quality steel. The challenge will be to determine the right amount of graphite to use," Richard mused, turning practical.
Gregor shrugged. "We have time to experiment."
Richard nodded. "True, but our iron supply is scarce. We can¡¯t afford to waste it. If we manage to establish the necessary facilities within a year, we should have enough time to perfect the process¡ªassuming we can secure more iron ore."
His gaze shifted back to the graphite Gregor held.
"Where exactly did this graphite come from?" Richard queried.
"I didn¡¯t ask, but Evergreen lacks mines, which is why we import all our ore. Maybe someone sold it to him as obsidian, and he mistook it. Though any skilled blacksmith should recognize the difference," Gregor speculated.
"We need to investigate discreetly. There might be undiscovered deposits here in Evergreen, deemed worthless so far. Graphite¡¯s utility goes beyond steel production; a reliable source would be a boon for us," Richard contemplated the broader implications.
"I¡¯ll see what I can learn from him without raising suspicion," Gregor resolved.
"You¡¯re not staying then?" Richard looked up.
"No, I just dropped by to deliver this ore," Gregor chuckled. "Ever since the contract was signed, I¡¯ve been in demand. Even Bojack needed my help¡ªthe look on his face when he asked was priceless." He laughed heartily.
Richard joined in the laughter. "Alright, take care then. I¡¯ll catch up with you later," he replied, waving Gregor off with a smile.
After Gregor placed the graphite ore on the desk and departed, Richard was left alone with his thoughts, which were swirling with more than just the challenges of steel production. He had yet to share with Gregor the proposition Issac had laid before him, largely because he was still grappling with it himself. The notion of marriage wasn''t what troubled him¡ªit was the manner in which it was being imposed. Issac was pushing him into a union with someone he didn''t really know, disregarding Richard¡¯s feelings in favor of strategic advantage.
Richard was more concerned with how Roxanne might feel about the whole ordeal. Issac didn''t care if he was seeing her from how he spoke. All that mattered to him was that Celeste was to be Richard''s first wife.
The concept of polygamy, though common among the elite here for consolidating influence, alliances, wealth, or power, was foreign to Richard, who had never seen himself as a ladies'' man or imagined juggling relationships with multiple partners.
He exhaled a deep sigh. The morning was still young, and he felt it unwise to dwell on these thoughts by himself. Given that Roxanne''s life would also be profoundly affected by Issac¡¯s proposal, it seemed only right to involve her in the discussion. After all, any decision would inevitably shape both their futures.
47 – Winds of Change II
Evergreen, 12th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Upon entering the quaint, rustic tavern, Richard quickly noted the sparse crowd, his gaze sweeping over the few patrons seated at the wooden tables. Richard imagined that if Roxanne expanded and transformed the tavern into an inn, it would attract travelers who sought comfort and a good meal. Unfortunately, space was limited, with a house to the left and a tool shop to the right.
Richard took his usual spot at the front counter. As he settled onto the sturdy stool, Roxanne emerged from the kitchen, her face lighting up at the unexpected sight of him. Her smile was bright and genuine, a testament to the warmth she felt whenever she saw him. Their time together had been scarce lately, as Richard was busy with his business.
At this point, no one knew that Richard was courting Roxanne. Gregor likely had his suspicions, and Issac was the only person Richard had explicitly told. They planned to announce their relationship formally to the community, but with everything going on, they hadn''t yet found the right moment to discuss it.
In truth, Richard cared little about what others thought or whether they would support their relationship. However, societal customs dictated that they needed community support for the marriage.
Roxanne placed a wooden bowl of food in front of him. "Hey, you''re here early," she greeted warmly, the bowl containing a hearty stew. The dish''s appearance was unremarkable, but Richard knew the flavor would be excellent, as was typical of Roxanne''s cooking.
"I am," Richard replied with a sigh. "A lot''s been on my mind lately, so I came here for a break. Plus, I wanted to see you."
Roxanne''s grin widened at his words, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Oh, really?"
Richard glanced over his shoulder, noting the empty seats around him. He leaned closer to Roxanne, his voice lowering. "I need to talk about something private. Is your helper around?"
Roxanne shook her head. "He''s out fetching some items I needed. Do you want to go to the kitchen?"
Richard shrugged casually. "We can stay here. There''s no one around, and I think we''ll be fine. I saw Issac yesterday to discuss my business proposal. He seems interested and even offered to introduce me to some influential people."
"That''s great!" Roxanne''s expression brightened with genuine happiness for him.
Richard shifted uneasily, his eyes scanning Roxanne''s face. "It is, but he also wants me to marry his daughter," he began hesitantly. "I told him about us, but he wasn''t bothered. As long as Celeste, his daughter, is named the first wife, he doesn''t seem to care."
Roxanne''s eyes widened momentarily as she looked into his eyes. This was unexpected, though not entirely surprising. She knew how special Richard was, and it was only a matter of time before others recognized his potential. The prospect of being introduced to influential people was a perk anyone would covet.
Deep down, Roxanne had always known Richard was destined for greater things, likely beyond her reach. She didn''t want to hold him back. In their society, she was already widowed and considered impure. How others viewed their relationship mattered; while Richard might not care now, she feared he eventually would. Being together could stain his reputation, and in elite circles, reputation was everything.
Though they shared a brief, cherished moment together, Roxanne felt it was time to move on. Just as things had begun to look up for her, fate dealt her a cruel hand. She wondered if it was her fault. She had often looked down on those beneath her, and now it seemed someone was doing the same to her. She forced a smile, the best she could muster.
"You should do it," Roxanne said, her voice measured. "If you don''t find anything wrong with her and can gain some benefits, what''s the problem?"
Richard''s brow furrowed. "It doesn''t feel right, marrying someone I don''t know, especially when the marriage feels forced on me. Besides, there''s you. Doesn''t it bother you?"
"People marry all the time and get to know each other afterward," Roxanne countered, her voice soft but firm. "Take me, for example. You don''t know everything about me, and I don''t know everything about you."
"That''s different," Richard objected. "We''ve spoken many times. Even if briefly, it''s been a while since our first encounter. At that time, neither of us were thinking about marriage. It''s just something that happened. Besides, I know enough."
"Still, you should do it," Roxanne urged. "You''re only thinking about the relationships. Have you considered the benefits of marrying Issac''s daughter?"
"I haven''t," Richard admitted, his voice thoughtful.
Marrying Celeste would tie him to Issac through familial bonds, elevating his status instantly. He would gain connections to influential people and have the added benefit of influence. Not only that, but Issac had knowledge he didn''t, and that the people he hung around with had no clue about. The only one that did seemed to be Benjamin, but Benjamin was not much of a talker. While learning about the history of this world was not something Richard wanted to do, he had to gain insight from somewhere.
In his entire time being here, he had not seen one book. At least not at any of the places he visited. Surely there would be some sort of book here that contained information about previous lords, and the situation of Evergreen. There was just too much he was lacking, but then again he couldn''t be too hard on himself as he''s only spent a little less than a year here as of now.
Information was a powerful tool that could be used, and he should have spent more of his time learning about Evergreen, the region, and the continent. Going forward, he wanted to change that.
That wasn''t everything he could obtain from marrying into Issac''s family either. Truth be told, he didn''t see a downside, except for how Issac was forcing his hand. If that weren''t the case, and he wasn''t entangled with Roxanne then... then the proposal was one of the best things that could have happened to him.
Roxanne''s hand settled gently on Richard''s. "I appreciate that you care for me, but don''t let me hold you back," she said, her voice soft and sincere. "I can''t live as the gossip of the town. And what if we have children? Do you think they would be accepted? Their mother would be a widow with a lower status than her husband, unable to offer them anything."
Richard gently placed his other hand on top of hers, caressing it softly. "I''ve told you before, I don''t care about what others think," he said, his voice earnest. "If you live your life seeking others'' approval, then who are you living for? Live for yourself, not for what anyone else thinks. As for our children, they''ll learn to deal with those who mock them. And as for your status, you can overcome it. What about your dreams? Would you forget about them just because you''re married?" Richard''s eyes searching hers for a response.
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Roxanne shook her head. She had a glimpse at what could be, all she had to do was apply the knowledge she gained from Richard. Eventually, she would have people of all classes come to her establishment, spend their money, and have a good time. Then she''d buy more and expand.
It would not happen overnight, but given time she could see it happening. It would be hard, difficult even, but possible.
"Then do what you want to do.If this proposal feels too sudden, don''t go through with it. You''ll find a way to make your idea happen, just like you did with the carriage and the trade route. Issac is just one person; you don''t have to follow his lead. But I still think marrying his daughter is a good idea. As for me..." Roxanne smiled, though her eyes held a hint of sadness. "I can never be your first wife. Your status would be too great, and people would look down on you. The best we could do is for me to be your mistress. My status would never be as high, and any children I have wouldn''t inherit anything of yours, but at least we could still be together."
At times like this, Richard wished he had someone to talk to, someone from the same background as him. The natives of this world were accustomed to such a culture, but he wasn''t. It seemed simple on the surface, but was it really?
There was that famous saying, ''When in Rome, do as the Romans do.'' Here he was living in Evergreen, but still couldn''t adapt as well as he wanted.
He sighed. "You''re right. There are too many benefits to pass up."
Taking his time to gather the funds needed to start his business would take years. He could make a few Damascus steel swords and sell them to the wealthy, but there wasn''t enough iron ore in Evergreen to sustain such production. Lord Kirk likely didn''t need another weapon, and the funds he did have were probably allocated for the war. Issac seemed more interested in business and influence than weaponry.
Richard contemplated the prospect of creating weapons and selling them to potential customers to fund his steel facilities. It was a challenging path, but he felt it was a realistic one.
Roxanne, pulling her hand away from his grasp, spoke with a hint of relief in her voice. "It''s good that you''ve made a decision. While we won''t be formally wed, there''s still much we can do." She stretched her arms as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "This would give me a bit more freedom without worrying about you being dragged down because of me. Unless..." She trailed off, searching Richard''s eyes for a response.
"Unless what?" Richard asked, curiosity piqued.
"Unless you change your mind," Roxanne replied, her voice betraying a hint of insecurity.
She knew how fickle men could be, wanting one thing and then quickly moving on to something else. Although Richard had not shown such behavior in their interactions, the possibility lingered in her mind. Becoming his wife was more appealing to her than any status she might gain, while being a mistress offered no guarantees. Richard could stay with her one moment and leave the next.
The same could be said for her, but she couldn''t imagine leaving him without reason.
Becoming his mistress seemed like the best option if she wanted to maintain a relationship with him. There was nothing wrong with it as long as it was public knowledge. In their society, women often gossiped about men who secretly entertained mistresses. These relationships, when secret brought trouble and heartbreak, especially if a child was born out of wedlock. The situation could be different if the relationship was acknowledged or if the man claimed the child.
Roxanne didn''t want such an uncertain future for herself or any children she might have. She considered waiting for another man to charm her, but who knew how long that would take or if that man would have a good heart? Although she had been hurt by her late husband, leading her to distrust men, Richard''s actions so far suggested he might be different.
Men often pretended to be charming, only to change their behavior suddenly. Women who left such men were labeled as whores and disgraced. Roxanne knew this, and it influenced her thinking about her future with Richard.
"No, no." Richard waved his hands, his face showing a hint of embarrassment. "It''s just that I''m not used to this kind of thing. And I''m still figuring things out. Like, is it even possible for me?"
Roxanne smiled warmly, this time a genuine smile. "Most men would accept this without hesitation, yet you''re giving it thought. Why do you think it''s not possible?" she asked, her tone genuinely curious.
"I''m not like most men. It feels... wrong to me," Richard admitted, his voice uncertain. "Where I''m from, people don''t usually have multiple partners, at least not people like me. Maybe those with a lot of status. But me? I''d have a hard time dealing with one woman, let alone two. Plus, I''m a busy person, and I¡¯m not sure if I can split my attention and affection fairly." Richard''s honesty was evident in his words.
Roxanne placed her hand on top of his, her touch gentle. "I''m not asking for anything special. Just see me when you can, talk to me like you do now, and don''t forget about me. That''s all I want. When you marry Celeste, just make sure she knows about our arrangement. I can handle everything else."
Richard always thought he had thick skin, that he could handle criticism without a second thought. He had seen the worst in people and had hardened himself in response. But now, he wasn''t so sure that part of him was entirely gone. He couldn''t name anyone who would sacrifice so much for him. Roxanne was willing to set aside her feelings for his benefit, which touched him deeply. His heart felt heavy as he contemplated what he needed to do to achieve his goals, and it didn''t sit right with him.
Here was someone willing to make sacrifices for him, yet he wasn''t willing to do the same in return. Since when had he become someone willing to trample over another''s feelings for his own ambitions? That wasn''t the person he wanted to be, and he didn''t want to lose someone willing to sacrifice for him to succeed. People like that were rare to find.
Issac offered Richard numerous benefits that could help him reach his goals more quickly. If Richard declined, he''d be back where he started, searching for ways to make money. Starting a business without support was challenging, and Richard knew that there was no easy path to success.
Initially, Richard thought he had nothing to lose. But as he considered the situation further, he realized he had a lot at stake. Lord Kirk had promised him substantial plots of land to launch his business, even agreeing to invest manpower to secure the facilities. The Lord wasn''t doing this out of sheer goodwill; he stood to gain from economic growth, potential trade opportunities, and high-quality weapons for his army. Richard had already discussed a contract with Lord Kirk, although the details were yet to be finalized. If he failed to deliver, his relationship with Lord Kirk could become strained.
Furthermore, the blacksmiths in the association were willing to assist him. They had signed contracts and been taught how to produce steel from Richard. While under contract, they couldn''t produce steel for their own profit while working for him. However, without a steel production business, the blacksmiths could start making and selling steel on their own with the knowledge they had gained, leaving Richard unable to deliver on his promises to them.
Richard''s master plan was achievable, but he felt as though it required him to step on someone else to succeed. This wasn''t literally the case, but it felt that way to him. If he didn''t succeed, if he failed to fulfill his promises, his reputation would be ruined. Even if he managed to gather the funds later, nobody would want to work with someone who couldn''t keep his word.
Richard sighed as he looked deeply into Roxanne''s eyes. "I don''t know if this is the best decision," he admitted, "but I can''t have you as my mistress. For everything you''ve said and are willing to do, that doesn''t sit right with me. Forget everything else and everyone else. I want you as my wife. What do you say?"
Roxanne''s eyes widened in shock. "What about your business? The marriage with Celeste..." she trailed off, her voice filled with uncertainty.
"I''ll deal with it," Richard reassured her. "I''m not naturally inclined toward polygamy, but if it means keeping you by my side, I can try to adapt. I know it''s selfish, and there''s a lot to lose if I don''t accept Issac''s offer, but I''m not willing to tarnish our relationship for it. We were planning on getting married, so let''s do it."
"Your reputation, future inheritance..." Roxanne''s voice was filled with concern.
"Roxanne, don''t worry about it," Richard insisted, his voice filled with conviction. "Just tell me what you want."
A tear slid down Roxanne''s face as she nodded. "Yes, yes, I want to," she said.
"Then let''s do it," Richard said, his face lighting up with a warm smile.
48 – Winds of Change III
Evergreen, 18th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Letting out a deep breath, Richard calmed himself. He was oddly nervous and he didn''t know why. Tonight was the gathering that Lord Kirk would be hosting, and according to Issac, with whom he had a handful of conversations over the past few days, all of the nobility would be attending. Even generals from the army had permission to come, and with the war with Thornhill in full-blown swing Richard wasn''t sure that was the best decision.
It wasn''t often that Lord Kirk hosted events, but today was a special occasion. The combined forces of Evergreen and Devilin have quickly captured the large villages in Thornhill territory and getting ready to siege the main city. They were swift, but their actions were also unexpected and caught Thornhill off guard.
Issac hadn''t divulged much about the fate of the villagers or the expected duration of the siege. The focus, rather, was on the recent acquisition of two strategic mines¡ªa bronze mine and a granite quarry, both nestled within Thornhill¡¯s lands. This was a significant boon; Evergreen had never owned mines before, and these resources would bolster their war effort considerably.
One was a bronze mine and the other granite located in two different areas within Thorhill''s territory. Granite mines were nothing out of the ordinary, but bronze was. The concept of a bronze mine puzzled him. Bronze was an alloy of copper and tin, not a naturally occurring metal. How then, he wondered, were these mines producing bronze directly? It seemed as though the normal rules of metallurgy did not apply here¡ªor perhaps there was something he was missing.
Yet, bronze mining was a thing in the world. It was as if neither tin nor copper was readily available, that or the denizens of this world deemed them worthless, as that did for the graphite. That still would not explain how they managed to merge together to create bronze without someone deliberately doing that.
Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs of confusion, Richard redirected his thoughts to the graphite deposit he had asked Gregor to investigate. Located in a perilous area of Evergreen, known for its beast sightings, the deposit was a potential goldmine. The dwarf Gregor spoke to had stumbled upon the dark ore while scouring the land for valuable resources. He managed to extract some of the graphite before a skirmish with wild beasts forced him to flee.
Evergreen needed to wipe out those creatures, and Richard had an idea. Although it probably would not work, nor receive support. However, he wanted that graphite deposit. Currently, he had enough graphite to start his business, so he was not in a rush.
These developments underpinned the evening''s gathering. It was a monumental occasion for Evergreen, celebrating their strategic victories and looking ahead to the secure utilization of the newly acquired mines. Once Thornhill was subdued, the mines would bolster the town''s economy, making it a safer and more attractive hub for commerce, less plagued by the wild beasts that roamed more freely elsewhere.
As Richard prepared to join the assembly, he assisted Celeste from his verlpax, Dave. Her blonde hair was tied into a bun with a bronze circlet on top of her head. The circlet, crafted from bronze, was intricately designed with floral patterns and leaf petals, each meticulously detailed. Embedded within the metalwork were amethyst and aquamarine gems, complementing her green eyes. As Richard offered his hand, Celeste placed hers lightly in his, stepping down from the verlpax with a grace that belied the creature''s formidable appearance. Her other hand lightly touched the circlet, ensuring it stayed perfectly in place as she moved.
Her midnight blue gown flowed gracefully to her ankles, drawing admiring glances from many attendees. Tonight, her attire was exceptional, a collaboration between her maids and her mother, designed to dazzle even the most battle-hardened guests.
Truthfully, she was a bit embarrassed to have so many eyes glancing her way. Normally she wore a simple dress without the added accessories. Also, because she was always at home, she wasn''t used to such a large crowd of people.
"Thank you," she murmured to Richard as she stepped down, her hand light in his.
"Anytime," he responded, adjusting his own attire¡ªa sharp black and white suit, a recent gift from Issac in light of their recent collaborations.
Sadly, his son, Arthur would not be here tonight. Issac wasn''t worried since Arthur sent him a letter informing him that he was well and the war was going well, however, someone had to stay behind to command the soldiers. Arthur wasn''t the sole commander, but he wasn''t a general and had orders to follow.
Richard¡¯s gaze drifted upwards, drawn to the eerie glow of the moon¡ªa deep, ominous crimson that bathed the evening in an otherworldly light. The locals called it the Blood Moon, a rare celestial event steeped in superstition and dark tales. The last one, they said, had shone forty years ago during a brutal siege, its aftermath allegedly turning the Valewater river red with blood. Richard struggled to believe such stories; the logistics of blood coloring a river seemed far-fetched, even in a world as strange as this.
"You''re gazing at the moon again?" Celeste¡¯s voice, light and curious, broke his reverie.
He smiled, looking back at her. "Yeah, it¡¯s interesting, don¡¯t you think? The stories they tell about it?"
Celeste nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "I¡¯ve never actually seen a crimson moon except in a painting at my estate. My tutors used it as a backdrop for lessons about ancient wars."
"The people here believe it¡¯s Noctisara, the goddess of night, opening the door to her realm. They say she gathers the life seeped into the earth, welcoming the souls of the departed." Her tone was nonchalant, as if discussing a well-known folk tale.
"Noctisara?" Richard echoed, intrigued. This was the first he had heard of such a deity.
Celeste nodded again, her eyes reflecting the moon¡¯s strange light. "Are you not religious?"
Richard¡¯s gaze returned to the blood-red moon. "Well, I was never a strong believer in a single god or multiple ones. But now," Richard glanced back up at the crimson moon. Something he''d never see on earth, along with all the magical aspects of this world. "Now, I have to say there is an entity out there that has powers beyond my imagination."
That was the only way something like this would be possible. For him to be on Earth one minute and the next moment he was here. If there was not a god behind such an act, then what was?
Celeste smiled slightly, her tone turning educational. "Dualisty teaches us about Noctisara and her twin brother, Vitralis. She reigns over the night, while he governs the day and the passage of time¡ªfrom our first breath to our last. He watches over our lives, guiding us along our destined paths."
"Dualisty, huh?" Richard mused, his curiosity piqued.
"Yes, it''s a widespread belief here. There are many gods, each with their own followers and doctrines. My father has an extensive collection of texts on Dualisty and other beliefs in his library."
Celeste''s offer caught his interest. "I''d appreciate that. Maybe I could stop by tomorrow?"
As they spoke, guests continued to flow into the estate, the event gradually gathering momentum. Richard recalled his last visit here for business purposes, contrasting sharply with tonight''s social setting. Mingling in large gatherings was far from his preference¡ªhe valued solitude. Yet, tonight held a different significance, one he was slowly coming to appreciate.
"Shall we head in?" he proposed, sensing it was time to join the others.
Celeste nodded, her expression brightening as she spotted her mother waving from a short distance, a reassuring smile on her face. Together, they began to make their way toward the entrance.
.....
Inside the grand hall, the atmosphere buzzed with activity. Guards lined the walls at strategic intervals, their eyes scanning the crowd. A woman''s voice rose above the murmur, her song unfamiliar to Richard, but it was the undertone of conversations that captured his attention. Celeste, observant as ever, noted his interest and followed his gaze.
She leaned closer to Richard, her voice barely above a whisper, "That''s Simon. He used to be a business rival of my father''s. Now, he''s a wealthy merchant with family ties to the slums. Despite his wealth, his ventures haven''t been faring well recently, or so my mother tells me."
Richard raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking back to Simon, who stood a bit shorter than Celeste, his blonde hair cascading to his shoulders as he engaged fervently with two other men. Intrigued by Celeste''s insight, especially given her usual seclusion within the estate, he asked, "What sort of businesses did he run?"
"He owns a few clothing stores around the city and mainly traded in iron ore¡ªthat was his primary source of income. But he''s had some disputes with his father-in-law. The specifics weren''t clear, but he''s likely here tonight hoping to rebuild some of those lost connections," Celeste replied, her eyes still on Simon, observing his interactions.
Catching their gaze, Simon excused himself from his conversation and approached with a broad smile. "Celeste, you look beautiful tonight. That verlovian you''re wearing¡ªthis must be your fianc¨¦?" he said, turning to Richard and extending a hand. "Simon. I''ve known Celeste since she was a child. Issac''s a good friend of mine, and if you''re engaged to his daughter, I should certainly introduce myself."
Richard shook his hand, responding with a polite, "Richard, a pleasure."
On their ride earlier, Richard had inquired about the ornament Celeste wore¡ªa verlovian, a traditional headpiece signaling a woman''s engagement, akin to an engagement ring in its cultural significance. Once married, a woman would wear a Nuptialem, an even more ornate headpiece worn exclusively during the wedding ceremony. The cost of such adornments was prohibitive, a luxury reserved for the affluent, emphasizing the social divide.
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Simon chuckled, a light, probing sound. "So, how did you manage to charm Issac? He¡¯s notoriously selective about his inner circle," he asked, his eyes darting between Richard and Celeste, clearly intrigued by the newcomer who had captured the attention of one of the most influential families.
Simon was well aware of Issac''s reputation for discernment, having unsuccessfully proposed an alliance through marriage between their families, which Issac had swiftly declined. Despite the gifts and the potential suitors he presented, Issac remained unswayed.
"I''m not sure what you mean," Richard replied, keeping his tone neutral.
"Oh, come on, no need for secrets here. Is your father someone I might know?" Simon pressed, his curiosity unabated.
This question prompted Celeste to glance at Richard. She realized she knew little about his family background, a topic of considerable importance given their impending union.
"Doubtful," Richard answered smoothly, a hint of amusement in his tone "There''s no secret, really. Our interests simply aligned, that¡¯s all."
"And what interests might those be?" Simon persisted, eager for any scrap of information that might reveal more about this enigmatic newcomer.
Richard sensed Simon¡¯s underlying motive, a blend of genuine curiosity and perhaps a hint of business acumen, looking for leverage or insight. "We¡¯re both driven by wealth. Speaking of which, how''s your business faring these days?" he deflected, shifting the focus back onto Simon.
Simon¡¯s lip twitched, betraying his irritation at the redirection. "You seem well-informed, so I''ll spare you the details. What kind of business do you¡ªor should I say, your family¡ªrun?" He emphasized ''family,'' insinuating that Richard, due to his youth, was unlikely to be independently successful.
Richard maintained a calm demeanor. "I don¡¯t have a business. I¡¯m a blacksmith, actually."
Simon¡¯s eyebrows shot up, disbelief etched across his face. A blacksmith? Here? This was unexpected. The most renowned smiths were well-known within their own circles, rarely attending such elite events, and seldom mingling with high society.
His gaze flickered to Celeste, incredulous. Could Issac really be considering a blacksmith suitable for his daughter? He chuckled dismissively, assuming it was a jest. "A smith, huh? If you didn¡¯t want to discuss it, you could have just said so."
Richard smiled, a wry twist to his lips, just as Issac approached. "I¡¯m quite serious," he insisted.
Issac joined them, placing a hand on Richard¡¯s shoulder. "Richard, a moment," he said, nodding towards a quieter corner of the room.
Simon muttered under his breath and made a hasty retreat. The presence of Issac made him uncomfortable, especially given the stark contrast between their fortunes. As he walked away, he couldn''t help but second-guess the evening¡¯s revelations. Was Richard truly a blacksmith, or was there more to him than met the eye?
Once Simon was out of earshot, Issac turned to Richard, his voice low. "Don¡¯t mind him. He¡¯s not worth your time. His ventures are floundering, and it¡¯s only a matter of time before he''s no longer part of the elite here. Best not to get too involved."
Richard nodded in understanding, yet inwardly, he resolved to maintain his independence. He wouldn''t let Issac dictate his associations; after all, understanding the nuances of everyone in the room, including Simon''s ore dealings, could prove useful.
Issac''s attention shifted briefly to Celeste. "Your mother is with Telium¡¯s wife; why don''t you join them?" His tone left little room for debate.
Celeste, catching the subtle command, nodded and was about to move when Issac added, "After Lord Kirk arrives, you can rejoin us. That¡¯s when we¡¯ll announce the engagement."
With a second nod, Celeste made her way toward her mother.
Richard, observing the exchange, frowned slightly. "If it was a private matter, why didn¡¯t you just say so? There was no need to send her away like that."
Issac gave a dismissive wave. "Private matter? No, that¡¯s not why I spoke with you. Haven¡¯t you forgotten? I promised to introduce you to some influential figures tonight."
"I just didn¡¯t expect it to happen so quickly. We¡¯ve only just arrived, and the main event hasn¡¯t even started," Richard countered.
"You''re mistaken on two counts," Issac corrected him as he surveyed the hall, where groups were subtly forming among the bustling crowd. "First, sending Celeste off was strategic. Telium''s wife is well-connected; she''s often privy to information from Vale that isn¡¯t common knowledge here, thanks to her ties back home. It¡¯s beneficial for Celeste¡ªand by extension, you¡ªto learn from her. Secondly," he gestured around the room, "the main event is merely a facade. Look around; the true leaders are those who command their groups from a single spot, orchestrating the evening¡¯s dynamics. They''re the ones who truly wield power here. Someone like Simon is a mere foot soldier in comparison¡ªuseful at times but easily replaced."
Richard took a moment to scan the room through this new lens. It appeared chaotic, yet patterns emerged: certain figures stood anchored, radiating authority, while others circulated among the groups, likely spreading influence and forging alliances.
Issac nodded, seeing the realization dawn on Richard. "Your business acumen is sharp, but your understanding of these social dynamics needs refining. Let¡¯s work on that. Follow me," he said, leading the way deeper into the network of Evergreen¡¯s elite.
Politics¡ªinevitably at the heart of any event hosted by a lord, with various factions each pushing their agendas. Richard, preferring to steer clear of such entanglements, found himself being drawn in despite his intentions. He was a straightforward man, unaccustomed and frustrated by the oblique tactics often used in political discourse.
"What kind of groups are we talking about?" Richard asked, walking beside Issac through the bustling hall.
"There are two main factions," Issac explained as they navigated through groups of nobles. "One clings to tradition, preferring things stay as they are. The other advocates for economic change."
"Let me guess, you''re with the reformers?"
"I am," Issac nodded. "Opportunity is ripe for the taking, and Evergreen needs to adapt. That''s why we initiated the war with Thornhill. Our land is fertile, but overrun with beasts. Past efforts to clear them failed miserably." He paused, glancing at Richard. "And there''s more at stake for Lord Kirk. His position is precarious; many on the council blame him for our current troubles and the losses we endured three years ago."
Richard absorbed this information, his understanding of the situation deepening. He had come here to build a business and improve lives, but achieving those goals would evidently require navigating the murky waters of politics.
As they approached a group of influential men, Issac introduced each one. "Telium, Marcus, Highlord Luther¡ªthis is the young man I''ve mentioned before." The men, distinguished by their serious demeanors and signs of aging like Marcus''s gray hair, turned their attention to Richard.
Issac¡¯s introduction carried weight, prompting Highlord Luther to extend his hand first. "Issac speaks highly of you, which is rare for him." Luther''s handshake was firm, his presence imposing with broad shoulders and a neatly trimmed beard.
"Highlord Luther oversees our defenses here in Evergreen," Issac informed Richard, as they shook hands.
Luther''s interest was piqued by Richard''s craftsmanship. "The sword you forged¡ªit''s exceptional. What material did you use?"
"Which one? I''ve crafted several since my arrival." Richard queried, his interest in craftsmanship lighting up his expression.
"The ones Lord Kirk and Issac favor," Luther clarified. "They seem to be made of the same material, unless I''m mistaken."
"Those are Damascus steel. Stronger than regular steel, but more labor-intensive to forge," Richard explained.
Luther nodded appreciatively. "Its strength is comparable to obsidian. If you could arm an entire army with it, they''d be unstoppable."
Marcus chimed in, "Although, this steel of yours seems to be resource-intensive from what I''ve glanced. Issac mentioned your requirements, and without a new trade route, I don¡¯t see it as feasible."
Telium, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. "Once we secure Thornhill, we¡¯ll have a direct path to Stormgate."
"If we capture it," Highlord Luther mused with a note of caution. "No one knows what they''re up to inside the city. It''s been sealed for months. They didn''t even open their gates for their own citizens. If it weren''t for the archers on the walls, I''d suspect the inhabitants had all passed on."
Issac nodded. "Indeed, we can¡¯t afford a prolonged conflict. Lord Kirk is aware, which is why he advanced our troops so swiftly. We must also consider that Dustwell might invade again, and Lord Sline would need to defend his own territory. I foresee this war lasting no more than three to six months at most. Some council members are already satisfied with the villages and mines we¡¯ve secured; they see no reason to push further."
Turning to Richard, Issac continued, "Telium here oversees our trade operations, securing deals that benefit Evergreen. Capturing Thornhill would open a route to Stormgate, rich in resources and with no current disputes against us. The challenge, however, is the distance."
Issac addressed Richard. "You¡¯ve developed a new transportation method, haven¡¯t you?"
Richard, understanding the interest his project had sparked, replied modestly, "The carriage? It''s hardly new technology, but yes, I managed a day¡¯s travel to Disceroa with it."
The group, except for Issac, expressed surprise. Issac himself had already considered Richard¡¯s innovation but regretted not having thought of it sooner. The idea of using a verlpax to pull a carriage had briefly crossed his mind, but he had dismissed it as impractical, envisioning the strong creatures breaking the wagon.
Telium, intrigued, leaned forward. "How did you manage that? Normally, it takes days to make that journey."
Richard explained, a hint of pride in his tone, "I designed a sturdy carriage specifically for the journey. With my verlpax pulling it, travel was swift. They''re fast and strong, though the real challenge was avoiding the paths frequented by wild beasts."
Highlord Luther leaned in, his interest clearly piqued. "That''s remarkable," he said. "The ability to move troops or supplies that quickly could redefine our military strategies. Have you considered the possibilities of employing your method on a larger scale?"
Telium nodded in agreement, his mind racing with the commercial implications. "And it¡¯s not just military applications. Imagine the boost to trade and resource transportation. Faster routes mean fresher goods, more trades, and better profits. How scalable is your design, Richard?"
Richard sensed their growing interest, but he didn''t want to make his carriage the focal point of the conversation. He could see the benefits it would have, which is why he wanted to use it to dominate the transportation industry. He faced a set back which made him shelf the idea until he gathered more money to invest in it.
"The design is scalable, the difficulty would be creating the parts. It needs precise designs that fit well with one another, and a lot of the pieces are made from steel," Richard estimated, gauging the feasibility as he spoke.
"Given the resources you have, could you potentially make one at this stage? If we can demonstrate its effectiveness, especially to Stormgate, it could accelerate our plans." Issac interjected.
"I have some spare pieces from the first build, and with a bit of time I can make another one. Although, it''d be a month at most before it is ready." Richard responded.
Highlord Luther responded with a nod, his mind already on the logistics. "That timeline works well. It gives me enough time to assemble a detail for its escort. Our recent advancements in Thornhill¡¯s lower territory should secure the route."
"And I''ll accompany the expedition to negotiate directly with Stormgate. The ability to shorten travel time drastically could transform our trade dynamics. We wouldn¡¯t just rely on external merchants¡ªwe''d be in control. Once the carriage is operational, let me know what you need from Stormgate, and I¡¯ll arrange it. Keep in mind, some deals may take time since we''re new to them."Telium said.
"You say they are rich in resources. Does that mean they have iron ore?" Richard asked.
"Naturally. They have an entire village that mines ore." Telium replied.
Richard''s mind ticked over the possibilities. "Are they rich in resources? Specifically, do they have iron ore?"
"Yes, they have a whole village dedicated to mining ore," Telium confirmed.
"That''s perfect," Richard said, his plan forming. "Securing a long-term relationship with the mine owner would be ideal. I''d like to offer steel in exchange for their iron ore. Although, without them knowing what steel is, it might be hard to sell."
Telium rubbed his chin in thought. "Exchanging steel for iron? Give me a steel weapon and some steel to trade, I can make it work. Although, you don''t have the ability to produce steel yet, so it might be harder to actually sell to them."
As the group continued discussing the strategic possibilities of Richard''s innovations, the atmosphere of the grand hall subtly shifted. The conversations dimmed as two prominent figures entered the room¡ªLord Kirk of Evergreen and Lord Sline of Devilin, whose presence commanded immediate attention.
"Good evening, everyone," Lord Kirk announced, his voice resonant and carrying through the hall with practiced ease. He stood tall and confident, embodying the authority of his position. Beside him, Lord Sline, slightly smaller in stature but equally imposing, nodded courteously to the assembly.
49 – Winds of Change IV
Evergreen, 18th of Budrise, year 179 BN
As Lord Kirk and Lord Sline made their grand entrance into the bustling hall, Richard felt the weight of the moment settle upon him. He was no stranger to Lord Kirk, having interacted with him on several occasions, but it was Lord Sline who commanded his immediate attention. The Lord of Devilin exuded a stark presence, his pale skin a sharp contrast against his all-black attire, including a long coat that swept nearly to the floor.
"That''s Lord Sline," Issac whispered into Richard''s ear.
"That''s Lord Sline," Issac murmured, close enough for Richard to feel his breath.
Caught off guard by Issac''s proximity, Richard realized his focus had narrowed too much. It was a dangerous habit, especially in a hall teeming with political undercurrents and potential threats. He mentally chided himself, knowing that if he were to aid in any political movements he had to be caught, lest his distraction ends him.
"Lord of Devilin, and wed to Lady Serena," Issac noted.
Richard nodded, storing away every detail. "He appears much younger than Lord Kirk. Is Lord Sline''s father no longer alive?"
"He''s forty-six this year and took over Devilin after his father, Levi, passed away," Marcus chimed in from beside them, his voice low. "His ascension wasn''t uncontested though. His brothers weren''t pleased with the transition. You won''t see them here tonight, and frankly, that¡¯s for the best. His marriage to Lady Serena has solidified his position, benefiting both our lands."
Highlord Luther, standing a step behind, nodded. "Should a civil conflict arise in Devilin, our forces might be called upon to assist. His brothers would need to consider that before making any rash decisions. However, what intrigues me more are his ambitions regarding the current conflict with Thornhill."
"What do you think his goals are?" Richard inquired.
"I suspect he''s aiming to expand his territory," Issac speculated. "Thornhill¡¯s downfall could open up new opportunities for Devilin, especially in opening up new trade routes, and gaining the fertile land the region offers."
"Depending on how much contribution his forces provide, he could even ask for the mines that are now under our control. Those mines are what Evergreen needs, and knowing that he could force Lord Kirk''s hand to give more than what was previously talked about." Highlord Luther commented.
"It wouldn''t be a bad move on his part, forcing Lord Kirk''s hand. Knowing that, he could take more territory for himself, or even ask for something else in return." Richard offered his insight.
Issac raised his eyebrow at that, he wasn''t expecting Richard to think so far. He had a feeling that Richard would be a good candidate for his daughter after his interactions and from what Richard has shown him so far. But now, he was sure the young man also had a talent for thinking ahead.
Richard''s words were something they were worried about. Lord Kirk told them he had a plan to ensure that the negotiations that took place between him and Lord Sline wouldn''t be altered, but Issac was not so sure about it.
"What are you thinking?" Telium asked Richard. He felt the young man was treading on the same line of thought that they all were and wanted to pick his mind for a bit more context.
Richard was silent for a moment thinking over his next words carefully. "If I were Lord Sline, and I''m risking my forces to help my ally, i''d seek a reward. He has to leave his territory, and his brothers are left in Devilin unless I''m mistaken. That''s bad for him knowing that they can start a war while he''s away, taking Devilin for themselves. Because his forces are here, and our forces are also here, it would take a while for them to depart and arrive back at Devilin. However, we are in the midst of a war so they wouldn''t just leave." Richard began to explain. "My risk in this battle is a lot more than my ally, if I''m Lord Sline. Meaning, my reward has to be greater. Knowing that my ally is seeking resources and expansion of territory, I could use that against them. I''d push the negotiations to where neither of us could agree, but then offer an alternative solution that would seem a lot more beneficial to Lord Kirk."
"And what would that be?" Marcus asked.
"Thornhill. I''d take the city and ask for territory that could lead back to Devilin, giving the rest to Evergreen." Richard explained.
The four of them were silent for a bit, thinking Richard''s words over carefully. His explanation held some merit, but was it plausible?
Issac was the first to break the silence. "The question that''s on our minds would be if Lord Kirk would accept such a deal. Given the impact these mines could have on Evergreen and the burden of governing Thornhill, he might concede the city. Especially if he gains even more territory in its place."
Telium nodded slowly, considering the strategic landscape. "I agree, it is an option we haven''t considered. However, relinquishing Thornhill could significantly impact us. Even with the added mines, we''d still be lacking in trade. Thornhill itself offers us a place for traders to come to without worry of the beasts outside, without the city they''d no longer have a reason to trade with us."
Marcus, who had been listening intently, chimed in, "It''s mere speculation at this point. But we must consider the military aspect as well. Thornhill''s position on the map offers strategic defense advantages against potential threats from Vale and Dustwell. If Devilin controls Thornhill, our defensive line could be weakened."
Scratching his chin thoughtfully, Marcus added, "We should also consider the possibility of internal unrest. Thornhill''s citizens might not welcome a shift in lordship. The transition could lead to instability, which would disrupt trade further and potentially invite external threats during a vulnerable period."
Highlord Luther interjected, "Moreover, Thornhill is not just any city¡ªit¡¯s a fortress. Taking it would place Devilin closer to regional dominance, strategically positioned near Vale. Given Vale¡¯s current entanglements with Disceroa, seizing Thornhill now could afford us a significant tactical advantage in future conflicts."
Issac, weighing the military insight, added his concerns, "But we must also think about what happens after we take the city. The costs for reconstructing Thornhill, especially the city walls, would be substantial. We don¡¯t currently have the funds to undertake such repairs. Before we even consider another conflict, we need a secure route between Evergreen and Thornhill. We have to ensure safe passage for our people and goods, which in turn will help build up our economy. Without money, our capabilities to sustain a war are severely limited."
After he finished speaking Issac realized he should have pictured a scenario like this, but he was too preoccupied with other matters to think so clearly. Still, it bothered him that Richard was able to have such a line of thinking. He was a blacksmith and a potential merchant with an idea that could change Evergreen. However, from Issac''s knowledge, the man wasn''t a noble, nor did he engage in any sort of politics. Tonight should have been his first taste at the political field here in Evergreen. Yet, he was able to see something that they missed? It shouldn''t have been possible.
"Then that''s even more of a reason Lord Sline will have the upper hand in negotiations," Richard commented.
He was never one to join in political talks, but because this was all hypothetical it was oddly fun. Nothing he said was revolutionary, and he''s seen too much not to see the potential ends to any arrangements concerning Thornhill. Especially when he was in the army and they had to calculate the movements of the opposing forces, to come up with plans against whatever move they might make.
Although, he was merely saying what was on his mind.
Highlord Luther grinned. "You keep interesting company, Issac, Richard here has given us much to think about. We can discuss what would happen all day, but it''s best we deal with the immediate problem." Highlord Luther looked at Richard for a moment. "For anything to happen, we need more council support, but some of them have been leaning the other way as of late."
Marcus nodded. "You said you had something in mind last we spoke, care to share?" Marcus asked Issac.
"My plan is to increase Richard''s influence among the nobility and have him take his place among the council members. That would make us five strong, but getting rid of one of the others will need a bit of time." Issac responded.
Telium rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "His ideas do seem refreshing, but, Dyke would never allow Richard on the council. You know this."
Richard listened to them, but he didn''t speak. Issac''s plan was finally clear and he could understand why he wanted him to marry his daughter. It would benefit Richard, but Issac would also benefit, especially if he wanted his plan to work.
"Indeed, that is why Richard is engaged to my daughter. Their marriage will elevate his status. He''s already built up a small amount of reputation with Lord Kirk, not only forging him a weapon but also..." Issac stopped himself. "Richard''s managed to climb into the good graces of Lord Kirk, what he needs now is the backing of other notable figures to support him. I am hoping those figures can be you all."
The reason Issac stopped himself from mentioning the scrying stone incident was because Lord Kirk wanted to reveal that himself. When Issac learned of it, he could understand why. The impact that scrying stone held was dire and could alter so much here in Evergreen. Whoever was responsible for leaking information was bound to be among them, but Issac knew it was not one of his own associates. Still, it never hurt to be a bit cautious.
All three men looked a bit surprised at Issac''s remark. They didn''t know Richard was engaged to Celeste, that information was new to them. Issac kept his family matters close to his chest and only spoke about them when it seemed necessary.
"Congratulations are in order then!" Marcus said as he clapped Richard on the back.
"Once the foundations are set for his business, his influence will increase naturally. This steel of his will give us an advantage no one else in the region has." Issac said.
"Are you suggesting we invest in his business?" Telium asked a bit cautiously. He was open to investing in projects he saw potential in, but he just met Richard and even if Issac was backing him, he wasn''t too keen on making a move that might bankrupt him.
"No, the construction will begin in a few weeks time, I''m just giving you a heads up is all. The applications his steel can be used for is numerous, and even if it''s primarily used to create armor and weapons it is still advantageous to us. As Highlord Luther stated earlier, if we manage to outfit an entire army with weapons of such quality, our forces will have an easier time on the battlefield." Issac stated.
"You want us to bolster our own forces? While Lord Kirk doesn''t mind us having small private armies for protection, it''s another story if we all have large armies. He''d be very suspicious of such an act, who wouldn''t?" Marcus asked just to be sure he was on the same picture as Issac.
"I''d never ask you to recruit a large force of your own, especially when your territory is in the city. If you were in control of one of the villages, then maybe but here? No, our forces can stay small, I was just highlighting the points Highlord Luther stated earlier is all. We should push forward our own goals, and Richard has ideas that can benefit us. Highlord Luther wants weapons, Richard can see to it that his army has the best armor and weapons there is. Marcus, you want better roads and a way to transport goods easily, Richard has a solution to that. Telium, we both work to better the economy here and what better way to do that than offer more to the other regions? Our Delhar fruit may be sweet and unique, but it''s not an item people would risk their lives for." Issac paused as he looked at each one of the councilmen before his eyes landed on Richard. "This is what you can do for them, but the question is what do you want in return?"
Richard ran his hand through his hair. What did he want out of this? He knew he wanted to transform Evergreen, but that would take time, years even to accomplish.
Issac set his hand on Richard''s shoulder. "Think about it and get back to me. We''ll all benefit if we work together, there''s no rush."
At the same time, Celeste approached them alongside her mother, Silivia. Both women looked stunning, and Issac waved them over with a smile. Silivia''s warm presence brought a refreshing balance to the strategic discussions. As she exchanged pleasantries with everyone, Celeste''s attention was partially on Richard and partially scanning the hall where Lord Sline and Lord Kirk continued their own deep conversation.
"I see Lord Sline is still with Lord Kirk," Celeste remarked quietly to Richard as she joined him. "Their discussion seems quite intense."
Richard followed her gaze, noting the distant figures of the two lords engaged in what looked like a crucial dialogue. "Yes, that seems to be the case."
Turning back to Celeste, he continued, "I didn''t expect your father to send you off like that." He offered her a sympathetic smile.
Celeste gave a small, understanding smile. "He often has his reasons, though they''re not always clear at the moment." She paused before inching a bit closer to Richard. "I learned something from staying by my mother''s side, I can tell you later if you wish." Celeste offered in a whisper.
Richard was curious about Celeste, what she learned may be interesting to Issac or any other noble, but it wasn''t to him unless she was going to tell him something life-changing. He agreed to the marriage, but there was still a lot he wanted to know about her, and he''d rather spend time doing that than having her be a chess piece in this political game he was drawn into.
Over the course of his time with her as of late, she''s been opening up to him. This could be due to the marriage, but Richard felt it was because Celeste did not have many people to talk to.
Celeste waited for his reply, and she couldn''t help but hold the side of her dress. Did she do something wrong? Her mother informed her that she should include Richard on anything she happened to learn, as it would make him happy. Yet, that didn''t seem to be the case.
"We can talk later," Richard said.
Celeste, slightly taken aback by Richard''s brief response, nodded silently. She understood the importance of timing and discretion, especially in gatherings where every word could have multiple meanings. Despite the buzz of conversation around them, there was an undertone of seriousness that couldn''t be ignored. Celeste turned her attention back to the hall, her gaze lingering on the intense discussion between Lord Sline and Lord Kirk.
Richard watched her for a moment, noting the mix of concern and curiosity in her eyes. He appreciated her growing openness with him, a sign of trust that wasn''t easy to come by considering their arranged marriage. Deciding not to leave things too ambiguous, he added softly, "Later, when we can talk privately. It¡¯s important to me, what you have to say."
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Celeste''s expression lightened a bit, reassured by his affirmation.
As Richard and Celeste continued their conversation, Lord Kirk, along with Lord Sline, concluded their private discussion just as the rest of the hall began to stir with anticipation. With a final nod to each other, both lords turned to face the assembly. Their expressions were composed, betraying none of the intense negotiations that had just taken place.
Lord Kirk stepped forward, his presence commanding the immediate attention of the room. ¡°Honored councilmen and esteemed guests,¡± he began, his voice echoing through the grand hall, ¡°please join Lord Sline and myself in the east wing for a private feast. We have matters of great importance to discuss concerning the future of our lands.¡±
The room filled with a low hum of murmurs as the councilmen began to speculate what the feast would be about. They all knew it was not to eat but to discuss important information that the other nobles weren''t privy to. Issac took a look at Richard for a moment before speaking, "I''d like for you to join us, but we will meet again later. For now, enjoy your time here and meet some others. Just remember, everyone here has an agenda, so don''t make any promises."
Silivia wrapped her arm in Issac''s as they both left leaving Richard and Celeste alone. Highlord Luther, Marcus, and Telium all left as well.
The moment their figures vanished through the large ornate door, people began to approach Richard and Celeste. Many were curious who the young man was who stood chatting with four figures on the council for so long. Others knew Celeste and who her father was, so they approached as they noticed the Verlovian she was wearing.
.....
Lord Kirk stood at the head of the table. In front of him, Lord Sline sat next to his daughter, Serena. He was glad they were getting along, the more he fancied his daughter the better off she would be. He hoped Lord Sline would confide in her eventually. That was her purpose, the sole reason she was there. To learn any secrets she could that might be useful later on.
It was a move he was willing to make, sending his daughter off to gain information. Lord Sline was much like himself, charming in the eyes of others, but ruthless when the need called for it. Considering they were alike in that regard, Lord Kirk felt that they were similar in other areas as well.
He wasn''t there on the battlefield with his army, so he couldn''t see Lord Sline''s prowess for himself. But, the tales that were recounted told him that the man was a valiant fighter. Adrian was doing exceptional, although it pained him that his heir was commanding the battle instead of taking part in it.
Gazing at the leftmost table, his eyes met Issac''s. He informed him of the scrying stone and what was contained within it. Issac was the only one who knew, besides Aiden his most trusted aide. Issac wasn''t the traitor, Lord Kirk knew that. He had too much at stake to risk bringing unnecessary conflict to Evergreen. It was due to this that he asked him for his opinion, as Issac''s been in Evergreen for decades. They were close, and Lord Kirk thought of him as a friend.
Both of the tables were full, the ten council members were present along with their wives. The servants were finishing setting up the table, bringing out all sorts of delicacies.
His vision drifted to the guards in the room, they were still like a statues. But, they knew their role, and soon so would the others.
Among the council members gathered at the feast, one figure stood out distinctly¡ªDyke. Unlike his colleagues, who typically favored the rich, traditional garments of Evergreen''s nobility, Dyke''s attire was starkly minimalist. His clothes were of high quality but devoid of the usual embellishments. His sharp eyes, framed by a mane of graying hair, swept the room with a perceptiveness that missed little.
Dyke, known for his role as one of the senior councilmen of Evergreen, had gained a reputation for his often vocal opposition to Lord Kirk. He was a formidable presence, both in stature and in intellect. With his deep voice that rarely raised but always carried, Dyke was a man who commanded attention whenever he spoke.
Over the years, Dyke had cultivated a following among those who shared his concerns about Lord Kirk''s leadership, particularly regarding the handling of the war with Thornhill and the distribution of resources and power within Evergreen. His insistence on questioning the decisions made by Lord Kirk had earned him both respect and enmity in equal measure within the council chambers.
Yet, with everything the man stood for, Lord Kirk knew he wouldn''t be the one to leak any information. Dyke might not like him, but he loved Evergreen. To betray him was to betray the city he grew up in, and Lord Kirk just couldn''t see that happening.
"While our victories in Thornhill are commendable," Dyke began, his voice calm but firm, "how are we preparing the local populations to integrate into Evergreen? We need to quickly put the mines to work and secure the villages we''ve taken over properly. The city can wait, our forces have surrounded them and without any resources, they''ll starve to death."
Dyke¡¯s comment drew nods from several council members who echoed his sentiment. "Indeed," Garen chimed in, "we''ve gained substantial ground and resources. It might be wise to consolidate our gains rather than overextend ourselves further. Dustwell is still a looming threat, and our defenses need reinforcement."
Lord Kirk listened intently, his expression neutral as he absorbed the varying perspectives around the table.
Dyke, seizing on the support from his fellow councilmen, continued to press his point. "We must remember our past, Lord Kirk. Not so many years ago, Dustwell exploited our overstretched forces and dealt us a severe defeat. We don''t need a repeat of what happened last time. We were unprepared then, and it cost us dearly."
The room fell silent for a moment, the memories of the loss at Dustwell hanging heavy in the air. It had been a dark time for Evergreen, one that had led to significant losses including a village of theirs.
Highlord Luther, who had been listening quietly, added his perspective. "While I understand and appreciate the caution advised by Dyke and others, we must also consider the strength and morale of our troops. They are ready and willing to finish what we started. Pulling back now could be seen as a sign of weakness, which our enemies could exploit."
Dyke listened to Highlord Luther with a stern expression, his gaze unwavering as he processed the argument presented. ¡°Strength and morale are vital, indeed, Highlord Luther,¡± Dyke acknowledged, his voice steady. ¡°But let us not forget¡ªthe monster tide was a mere season ago. Our men fought bravely, and many barely had time to recover before being thrust into this new conflict. Can we honestly say they are prepared for an extended siege without risking severe attrition?¡±
He then turned his attention directly to Highlord Luther, his gaze intense. ¡°Do you truly believe, Highlord, that the siege of Thornhill will conclude within mere months? If we commit to a full assault now, without proper preparation and recuperation, our men might be led not to a swift victory but to a slaughter.¡±
The room tensed at Dyke¡¯s pointed questions, his concerns casting a shadow of doubt over the previously optimistic projections of a quick victory. Before Highlord Luther could respond, Dyke shifted his focus to Lord Sline, seeking the perspective of their ally whose forces were equally involved in the ongoing conflict.
¡°And what of you, Lord Sline?¡± Dyke continued, his tone slightly softened but still loaded with concern. ¡°You have seen the condition of our troops first-hand. Do you not agree that a brief period of strengthening our positions and fortifying the morale and capabilities of our men could yield a more decisive victory later, rather than rushing now and risking needless losses?¡±
Lord Kirk raised his hand as the voices around the tables came to a halt. He''s heard enough, and before Dyke could gain any momentum he had to act.
"Dyke''s words do have merit, but before we speak on anything concerning Thornhill, I''d like to take a moment to remember what allowed us all to be here today." Lord Kirk began, his voice effortlessly carrying across the room.
"Before my family arrived, many of your fathers, and father''s fathers were subjugated under the rule of Lebort. Known for his tyranny and cruelty that kept them in fear. My grandfather, whom many of you still remember as the Great Liberator, was nothing but a young man disgusted with the chaos wrought by Lebort''s rule. He found you all starving, being tormented by barbarians, and lacking true leadership. My Grandfather, Cain didn''t have a large army, he didn''t have a grand plan. But, what he did have was courage!"
"With a band of loyal followers, Cain set about a rebellion that freed you all from the clutches of the tyrant, Lebort. Under his rule, he rebuilt Evergreen stone, by stone, and gave us the great wall that protects us to this day. He instituted reforms, fought off the barbarians, and secured our borders."
Dyke shifted uncomfortably in his seat. No one was here to talk about the past, it had little to do with them and he knew Lord Kirk was only saying this to rub it in their face of how great his family was.
"Yet, for everything my grandfather did, it was nothing in comparison to what my father achieved. When my father Luther, took power he restructured the army, put in reforms, and created the council. Our neighbors, the Slivians, Evains, Tylians, and Prusturhs, where are they now? None of you thought it was possible to conquer them, but he did it! Expanding our lands, giving you lot the right to plunder them, and even when you were rich enough from the war, he paid off your debts. Never once has he coward from a battle, he always led the charge and was the last to retreat. Not one man under his command can say otherwise." Lord Kirk continued.
"Together, what these two men have given you is something many can be proud of for generations to come. Many of you, still live off the accomplishments of what they achieved! I''ll be the first to admit, that I played a small role and accomplished little in my time serving under them. But, which of you can say otherwise? Go ahead, I''ll wait." Lord Kirk paused as his vision swept across the room, waiting for anyone to speak up.
When no one did, he continued. "I continue their legacy, and my achievements speak for themselves. Many of you have fought by my side, I grew up with most of you. Can you honestly tell me that you haven''t of a time where I''ve led you to defeat? Yes, the first moment you all will think of is our defeat at the hands of Dustwell. It still haunts me to this day, just like it does with you all. How a thousand warriors managed to overcome three times their number. It''s impossible, by all means, it should be impossible, but they accomplished it."
Lord Kirk pulled out the scrying stone and set it on the table. "This scrying stone tells it all, the real reason why we lost. It wasn''t because of my judgment, it wasn''t because our soldiers were weak. No, it''s worse than that. So much worse." He stared down at Dyke who had crossed his arms at this point. "Go ahead, see what it contains and you tell me if I''m at fault."
Dyke wasn''t sure what Lord Kirk''s aim was, but he reached out to grab the Scrying stone. Lord Sline was amused and adjusted himself in his seat. He knew something was going to happen tonight, Lord Kirk already informed him of so. Now that it was actually happening, he wondered where it would lead.
''To His Esteemed Lordship, Lord Ike of Valewater,
With utmost urgency and under the cloak of confidentiality, I pen this letter to bring to your attention matters of grave significance that have recently come to light. It is with a heavy heart and a sense of duty that I divulge information that, if left unaddressed, could lead to dire consequences for Valewater and, indeed, for the very fabric of our alliances and loyalties.
Firstly, it has come to my knowledge through reliable sources that Lord Kirk of Evergreen, driven by a vendetta shrouded in betrayal and deceit, has orchestrated an assassination attempt on your life. This nefarious plot is scheduled to unfold on the 15th of this month, during the ceremony commemorating the founding of Valewater¡ªa day when our guards are lowered in celebration and our spirits are high. The choice of this day for such a vile act is a testament to the depths of treachery Lord Kirk is willing to stoop to.
The motive behind this assassination stems from a discovery most unsettling. Lord Kirk has uncovered evidence of Valewater''s covert support to Dustwell during the last skirmish between Evergreen and Dustwell. It has been revealed that Valewater supplied Dustwell with not only provisions and arms but also with strategic intelligence that directly contributed to Evergreen''s defeats in several key engagements. This act of aiding an enemy, viewed by Lord Kirk as the ultimate betrayal, has ignited a desire for retribution that knows no bounds.''
Dyke''s eyes opened wide as he read the rest of the content. His eyes darted from the transparent window to Lord Kirk. He didn''t need to ask the question outright, his expression told it all.
The others at the table were all shocked, each one of them adjusting themselves.
"This... this can''t-" One of the councilmen stumbled over his words, unable to come to terms with the contents of the scrying stone.
"I assure you, it is real." Lord Kirk said.
"I can tolerate a lot of things, but betrayal is not one of them. It would seem that I''ve been too nice as of late, that someone thinks they can do what they want, but let me assure you all. That is not the case." Lord Kirk signaled the guards with a slight gesture.
The guards moved with haste, drawing their swords. The councilmen were startled by such an act and quickly moved to react. None of them had any weapons, and none of them wanted to die.
"Have you gone insane!?" Dyke shouted as his hands slammed the table as he shot up from his seat.
Lord Kirk glared at him but said nothing before he turned his attention to what was happening in front of him. Three councilmen were dispatched, they were the targets of tonight''s event. Their bodies were slumped over on the table their blood soaked the table and spilled down to the end.
The remaining councilmen sat frozen, their faces pale as they stared at the bodies of their former colleagues, now lifeless on the table before them. The harsh reality of Lord Kirk''s decisive, brutal action had instantly silenced any dissent or confusion.
Lord Kirk''s eyes swept over the room, his gaze hard and unyielding. "Let this be a lesson to anyone who dares betray Evergreen."
Dyke, still standing, his body taut with tension, looked around at his fellow councilmen, his expression one of horror mixed with disbelief. "This is madness, Kirk! You execute councilmen without trial? Without evidence presented to us all? What justice is this?" His voice, though loud and clear, trembled.
Lord Sline, who had remained calm and observant throughout the unfolding drama, finally spoke, his voice cool and controlled. "It is a harsh response, indeed, but perhaps necessary," he began, carefully choosing his words. "However, Lord Kirk, assurance of their guilt would set the minds of your council at ease."
Lord Kirk fixed his eyes on Lord Sline, the hardness in his gaze softening just a fraction. "I understand your concerns, Lord Sline," he responded in a tone that carried both authority and a hint of regret. "But let me be clear¡ªthere is no evidence. Those who plotted against us have been weaving this web for a long time. They have covered their tracks too well; any evidence that once existed has surely vanished by now."
His statement hung heavily in the air, casting a shadow of doubt and unease among those present. Dyke, unable to contain his outrage, burst forth with renewed vigor. "You are a madman, Kirk!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the hall. "When the citizens of Evergreen learn of this night, of how you spilled the blood of their councilmen without a shred of evidence, they will want your head on a stick!"
Lord Kirk met Dyke''s fiery gaze with a steely one of his own. "Then go ahead," he said, his voice steady and unwavering. "Tell them. Tell all of Evergreen what happened here tonight. I don''t always like what I have to do, but I know I must be the one to do them. Sometimes blood must be shed, tonight is simply an example of that."
The remaining councilmen looked between Dyke and Lord Kirk, their own loyalties and beliefs now thrown into a storm of uncertainty.
Dyke, however, was not appeased. His expression was one of disgust. "There must be justice, Kirk," he insisted, his voice firm. "True justice, not this... this tyranny disguised as leadership. You cannot simply decide fates based on suspicion and call it leadership!"
Lord Kirk''s expression darkened further under the weight of Dyke''s accusations. The tension in the room thickened as his voice, deep and resonant, broke the charged silence. "What do you know of leadership, Dyke?" he challenged, his tone laced with scorn. "All you do is criticize every action I take. Is your outrage truly about my methods, or is it because those who were killed tonight were your supporters, those who helped amplify your dissent?"
Dyke''s face reddened, the accusation hitting close to home. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier as if the very air were thickening with the brewing storm between the two men. "Leadership does not equate to dictatorship, Kirk," Dyke retorted sharply. "Leadership means guiding, not ruling with an iron fist. You''ve crossed a line that should never have been approached. You justify your tyranny by cloaking it in the guise of necessity, but it''s nothing more than a power grab."
Lord Kirk leaned forward, his hands firmly placed on the table, his eyes locked on Dyke. "A power grab?" he echoed mockingly. "Tell me, Dyke, where would our great city be without my leadership? Without the hard decisions I''ve had to make? You speak of justice, yet you would let Evergreen fall to chaos and ruin under the pretense of righteousness and fear of action."
The tension did not abate as Lord Kirk stood, his presence dominating the room. ¡°If this was merely a power grab, Dyke, why are you still standing? Why allow a voice as defiant as yours to continue to speak so freely?¡±
Dyke¡¯s eyes narrowed, and he straightened, ¡°Perhaps because you know it would be too obvious,¡± he shot back, his voice steady despite the pressure. ¡°Killing me, too, would remove any doubt about your intentions."
Lord Kirk smiled thinly, the expression not reaching his eyes. ¡°Or perhaps,¡± he proposed in a low, even tone, ¡°it is because my actions were true."
The two men stared at one another for a long time. The councilmen and their wives were still taken aback by what just occurred, and with Dyke outright standing against Lord Kirk, they couldn''t help but wonder if he would be next. Would any of them be next?
Lord Sline took this moment to speak. "I think that is enough fun for one night. We need not have another corpse ruin the mood, lest you be mistaken for a true tyrant."
Lord Kirk''s gaze flicked to Lord Sline, and he let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. His posture relaxed slightly as the tension diffused, albeit temporarily. "Indeed, Lord Sline, we have had our share of excitement for the evening," he conceded.
Turning back to the assembly, he addressed the council and their spouses who remained in the hall, still visibly shaken by the night''s events. "Let us conclude our gathering. I assure everyone here that the stability and security of Evergreen are my utmost priorities. These are troubled times, and difficult decisions must be made. But let it be known, I do not make them lightly."
Dyke, still bristling but recognizing the futility of further confrontation at this moment, gave a curt nod. He remained silent, his stance rigid as if preparing for battle yet constrained by the formalities of the council. His eyes lingered on Lord Kirk for a moment longer before he turned to leave.
As the council members and their companions slowly dispersed, murmurs filled the room. Some were clearly disturbed by the night''s bloodshed, while others appeared contemplative, perhaps reassessing their own positions and loyalties within the volatile dynamics of Evergreen''s leadership.
Lord Kirk remained behind for a moment, watching the last of the council members leave. His expression was inscrutable, a masterful composition of calm and resolve.
Lord Sline approached him, his steps measured. "You have played a dangerous game tonight, Kirk," he said quietly, ensuring their conversation remained private. "Be mindful that the edge you walk is sharp, and the fall is long and hard."
50 – Side Story: The Great Escape I
Disceroa, 1st of Budrise, year 179 BN
Path to Valewater
This was not how things were supposed to go. It was easy, a simple trip to Valewater. Not a fight for his life with a group of people that didn''t even like him. "Fucking Mitch!" Ben mumbled under his breath as he wiped the blood off his dagger on his trousers. With one smooth motion, he put the dagger away and scanned the area.
Everyone is too busy paying attention to a second group of raiders or soldiers. The sound of the horn is what drew their attention, but he wasn''t interested. He''s done enough fighting for one day, and risking his life for these people wasn''t worth it. It was best to cut his losses here and head back to Disceroa. If Mitch asked him, he''d just say the merchant died out here.
Heck, it wasn''t going to be too far off the mark if the situation played out like he imagined it would.
Best to find what was valuable from the wreckage and run with it before anyone noticed.
Ben kicked over bits of wood spying any potential valuables. He wasn''t sure what the merchant was carrying, but he had to have something.
"Just my luck!" Ben grinned as he spotted something shiny reflecting the sunlight. It was a golden necklace, probably worth a fortune and underneath it was a scroll. He paused for a second noticing that the bronze box was shattered into pieces, meaning what he was grabbing was inside.
He shrugged, no one would notice if he took an item or two. Besides, no one knew what was in the box, so how would they know he was the one to take these items?
Putting the necklace on he tucked it underneath his shirt and glared at the scroll. Why was this inside the box with the golden necklace? Was it valuable? It had to be, there was no other reason why someone would hide it. He wasn''t the best reader, but he could understand a few words here and there. Surely more than enough to make out anything written down.
Unfolding the scroll, he tried to read the contents.
To Edward of Valewater,
I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. As we move closer to the culmination of our shared endeavor, I must commend you for your unwavering dedication and loyalty. Our plan, should it come to fruition, will reshape the balance of power to the benefit of us both.
As previously discussed, the impending ceremony commemorating the founding of Valewater will provide the perfect cover for our plot. On the evening of the 15th, while celebrations are underway and guards are focused elsewhere, you must arrange for the necessary elements to be in place. Your task is straightforward but vital: you are to ensure that the disposable individuals hired for the task are positioned within the vicinity of Lord Ike¡¯s residence, posing as revelers or merchants. They should be prepared to act swiftly and decisively once the moment arrives.
It is imperative that these individuals believe they are undertaking this task in exchange for a significant reward, as their commitment is crucial for the initial phase of our plan. However, remember that their capture and subsequent execution are essential to lending credibility to the diversion. The staged attempt will provide the perfect cover for our true objective and simultaneously heighten tensions between Valewater and Evergreen, sowing distrust and chaos.
Alongside this letter, I have enclosed a scrying stone. You are to deliver this stone to Lord Ike as a gift, accompanied by an anonymous note suggesting it as a token of goodwill from a secret admirer. The stone will allow us to monitor the proceedings remotely, ensuring that our plan proceeds as intended.
Upon the successful completion of this task, I will fulfill our agreement. The hand of my niece, Angelica, will be yours in marriage, and you shall receive a prestigious position on Thornhill¡¯s city council, along with the promised land. Your future in Thornhill is bright, Edward, provided that you execute this plan with the same precision and discretion you have shown thus far.
Proceed with caution, but rest assured that your efforts will not go unrewarded. Together, we will shape the destiny of our regions.
With sincere regard and anticipation,
Peter II of Thornhill
Confidential Advisor
''Huh?'' Ben scratched his cheek, he picked up the ability to read during his time on the road traveling from here to there. He didn''t have the best skill, nor did he know every word but he knew enough to fake it to the ladies. A man who could read was something special among the common folk, and it would only elevate his status. When it came to tricking people into doing what he wanted, the ability to read and write came in handy.
However, he had to be reading this wrong. Assassination? Isn''t that something huge?
If he delivered this as it should have been, he''d have never known. But, if he was reading it right, or as best he could, there would be an assassination attempt. This was good news, very good news. He could easily gain something from this if he handled it right. No more Mitch, no more Disceroa. He''d be a free man, one potentially with status.
Yes, this was good, very good for him. He had to make sure no one found out, at least no one here in the vicinity. His ears twitched, he could hear footsteps. Someone was coming. Turning around, he saw Richard staring at him, the man noticed the item in his hand.
''Fuck!'' Ben screamed in his head. How could he be so stupid to be holding the damn scroll out in the open like this, he should have tucked it away for later. The others were eyeing him too, they''d want him to hand it over. They''d take the scroll and use it like he would. He knew it.
But no, this was all his. He found it, no one else.
"Ben, what does it say?" Richard asked him.
Gazing over he could hear the sound of hooves coming closer. Those men on the hill were descending and would pose as a good distraction. "I''ll tell you later, we have more pressing matters to attend to." He told Richard as he motioned towards the descending men on top of their Aurochid''s. As he spoke he began tucking the scroll away not trying to draw too much attention to himself.
Richard however wasn''t buying it. The man was watching his every move.
''This is mines, I ain''t sharing!'' He wasn''t going to budge on this matter, he did not care who it was. Those men were coming closer, and he noticed Richard and him had some distance between them. As soon as the thought appeared in his head, Ben took off running towards the men.
"Wait, Ben!" Ben could hear Richard''s shout, but he was gone. Besides his way with words, the one thing he was confident in was his ability to run. He had to be quick on his feet in case he found himself in sticky situations.
Ben ran towards the approaching men, but as he got closer, he noticed the insignia on their armor¡ªthey were soldiers from Disceroa. Clicking his tongue in frustration, he quickly changed direction, heading east. He knew there was a village nearby, and despite the danger of running into more raiders, he figured he could handle it. Besides, there would likely be scraps of food he could grab.
The landscape blurred as he sprinted, his mind racing just as fast. The recent fight had left him exhausted, but adrenaline kept him going. He couldn''t afford to slow down now. The thought of getting caught by the Disceroa soldiers or the raiders was enough to spur him forward.
Ben navigated through the terrain, his eyes scanning for any signs of danger. The east was the same direction those raiders had come from, but he knew he could outsmart or outrun them if necessary. He just needed to reach the village and find some food to keep his strength up.
Ben glanced over his shoulder, making sure he wasn''t being followed. The soldiers from Disceroa were now far behind, mere specks on the horizon. He had gained enough distance, but he couldn''t let his guard down. Not yet.
Ben spotted a cluster of trees in the distance and slowed his pace, looking back one more time to ensure no one was following him. Seeing no pursuit, he headed into the trees, knowing it would be harder for anyone to track him through the dense foliage. They had traveled mostly on open plains, but this was one of the few places from Disceroa to Suncrest where trees were bunched together. It was also close to a village he had visited once before.
As he traveled through the trees, Ben felt a slight sense of relief. The canopy above provided a welcome cover, making him feel more secure. He moved swiftly but cautiously, making his way toward the edge of the tree line. When he approached the edge, he saw trails of smoke rising into the sky.
In the distance, the village came into view. Some homes were burnt, and a few were still burning but almost done. Corpses lined the ground, and debris was scattered everywhere.
The village, or what was left of it, lay before him. The devastation was worse up close. Ben crept along the edge of the trees, his eyes taking in the scene. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and the sickening stench of death.
He needed to find food and figure out his next move. Carefully, he made his way towards the remains of the village, keeping low and alert. He stepped over debris and around bodies, his eyes scanning for anything useful.
Among the wreckage, he spotted a small market stall that had been overturned but not entirely burnt. There were some loaves of bread, slightly charred but still edible, and a few pieces of dried meat. He quickly gathered what he could, stuffing the food into his pouch.
Ben paused for a moment, looking around the ruined village. The once bustling place was now a ghost town, its silence only broken by the crackling of dying fires and the distant cries of scavenging birds. He knew he couldn''t stay here long. It was only a matter of time before more raiders or soldiers showed up.
Suddenly, Ben heard something snap behind him. He whirled around to find a man in tattered clothing, dirt smeared across his face, holding a pitchfork aimed directly at him. The man was skinny, with barely any muscle on his frame, and looked to be a teen, probably just old enough to be considered an adult.
Ben raised his hands slowly, palms facing outward. "Easy there, kid," he said in a calm, soothing voice. "You don''t want to do that."
The young man''s eyes flickered to the pouch at Ben''s waist, a hint of desperation on his face.
Ben noticed this and decided to play on it, softening his tone further.
"Look, I get it. You''re hungry and scared. But that pitchfork won''t get you what you need," Ben continued, keeping his voice gentle and persuasive. "I¡¯ve got some food here. How about we share it, and we can both get out of this mess alive?"
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The young man hesitated, the pitchfork trembling slightly in his hands. Ben could see the fear and uncertainty in his eyes.
"You¡¯ve got family, don¡¯t you?" Ben asked, taking a cautious step forward. "They¡¯re probably worried about you. Let¡¯s make sure you get back to them safely. I¡¯m not here to hurt you. I¡¯m just trying to survive, same as you."
The young man¡¯s grip on the pitchfork loosened slightly. Ben took another step forward, his eyes never leaving the boy¡¯s face.
"What''s your name?" Ben asked gently.
"T-Tom," the young man stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Alright, Tom," Ben said with a reassuring smile. "Let''s put the pitchfork down and figure this out together, okay?"
After a tense moment, Tom lowered the pitchfork, his shoulders sagging in relief and exhaustion. Ben slowly approached, keeping his movements deliberate and non-threatening.
"Good choice, Tom," Ben said softly. "Here, let¡¯s sit down and see what we¡¯ve got."
Ben handed a portion of the bread and dried meat to Tom, who accepted it with shaking hands. They sat down amidst the rubble, sharing the meager food in silence. Ben kept a careful eye on Tom, noting the desperation in his eyes and the way he devoured the food.
"So, Tom," Ben began, keeping his tone casual, "what happened here? Where did the raiders come from?"
Tom swallowed hard, glancing around nervously. "They came out of nowhere," he said, his voice trembling. "A group of them, maybe a dozen. They attacked at dawn, set fire to the houses, and killed anyone who resisted. It was chaos."
Ben nodded, encouraging Tom to continue. "Where are they now? Did they leave anyone behind?"
Tom shook his head, his eyes downcast. "Most of them moved on, heading west. But a few stayed behind to loot and gather supplies. I¡¯ve been hiding, trying to avoid them."
Ben processed this information, thinking about his next move. He needed to avoid the remaining raiders and find a safe route out of the village. "Do you know if there¡¯s any safe place nearby? Somewhere we can lay low for a while?"
Tom hesitated, then nodded. "There''s an old barn on the outskirts, to the north. It¡¯s hidden by the trees. I used to go there with my friends. It should be safe."
Ben gave a reassuring smile, though his mind was already calculating the next steps. "Good to know. We should head there, get some rest."
As they finished eating, Ben weighed his options. Tom had provided useful information, but keeping him around might be a liability. He didn¡¯t trust the boy completely, and having to watch his back could slow him down.
Tom seemed to sense Ben''s hesitation and spoke up. "There''s more. They took the women, the young ones, and any children they could find. Chained them up and took them back west where they came from."
"Prisoners?" Ben asked, frowning. "Did they take any supplies?"
Tom''s face darkened, and he shuddered. "They took everything. Food, tools, even the livestock. And... they took my sister."
Ben put a hand on Tom''s shoulder, squeezing gently. "I''m sorry, Tom. We''ll figure something out."
Tom sniffled and nodded, trying to hold back his tears. "Thank you."
"Alright," Ben said, standing up and brushing off his clothes. "Let''s head to that barn. Lead the way."
Tom nodded and got up, leading Ben through the remnants of the village toward the northern outskirts. As they moved, Ben kept an eye out for any signs of the raiders. The village was eerily quiet, with only the occasional crackle of dying fires breaking the silence.
When they reached the edge of the village, Ben saw the barn Tom had mentioned. It was hidden by trees and appeared undisturbed. A good place to lay low, at least for a while.
"Here we are," Tom said, looking relieved. "It should be safe inside."
"Great," Ben replied. "You''ve been a big help, Tom."
Tom turned to him with a small, hopeful smile, but it quickly faded as Ben drew his dagger. "I''m sorry, Tom, but I can''t take any risks."
Before Tom could react, Ben moved swiftly, plunging the dagger into his neck. Tom''s eyes widened in shock and pain, but he didn''t have the strength to cry out. Ben quickly dragged his body behind the barn, laying it down carefully out of sight. He wiped his dagger clean on Tom''s tattered clothing, feeling no remorse.
With Tom taken care of, Ben entered the barn and sat down on a bale of hay to think about his next move. He considered going to Suncrest, but quickly dismissed the idea. It was a bad move considering they were already at war. Valewater was out of the question, too. He''d have to cross Suncrest, and before that happened, he''d be swept up in some nonsense. Evergreen was also a no since that''s where Big Oar, Carl, and the others were from and would be going back.
Heatherhill or Espheo seemed like his best options. Two regions he hadn''t been to, but anyone with status in the black market or nobility would pay for the information he had. Ben took out the scroll again and tried to read it, but shook his head. There were just too many words he didn''t know to make it out to the full extent. But he was positive there was something about an assassination and a lord in there.
He leaned back, considering his options. Heatherhill was known for its merchants and traders, a place where information could be as valuable as gold. Espheo, on the other hand, had a reputation for its underworld dealings and nobility with an appetite for secrets.
Exhaustion suddenly hit him like a wave. He realized he was more tired than he thought. "I can afford to close my eyes for a few minutes," he muttered to himself. Finding a relatively comfortable spot on the hay, he allowed himself to drift off.
When he woke, his heart nearly skipped a beat as he saw the sun was setting, casting long shadows from the top window of the barn. Panic set in as he heard voices outside the barn. Men. He could tell from their tone and volume that they were close. Too close.
He strained his ears and caught snippets of their conversation. They had found Tom''s body. Before Ben could move, the barn door creaked open, revealing men in mismatched armor sets. His eyes widened as he recognized the man standing in front. Mikhael.
Mikhael was the leader of a mercenary group, notorious for taking any job as long as the pay was good. He was a rugged, imposing figure with a reputation for ruthlessness. Mikhael''s eyes widened in surprise upon seeing Ben.
"Ben? What are you doing here?" Mikhael asked.
Ben quickly composed himself, forcing a grin. "Mikhael, old friend! I could ask you the same question."
Mikhael''s eyes narrowed slightly. "I don''t recall us being friends, Ben. Last I heard, you were in Disceroa. What brings you to this charred ruin?"
Ben thought fast but decided honesty was his best option here. "I was on my way to Valewater when raiders hit the village. I took cover here, waiting for things to calm down."
Mikheal''s eyes narrowed at Ben''s response. Ben noticed the change in the man''s expression and wondered what was wrong.
"To Valewater?" Mikhael repeated. "Why would you go all the way out there? You still owe Mitch a great amount of money."
Ben laughed weakly, trying to hide his anxiety. "Yeah, I do. Always something, right?"
Mikhael wasn''t convinced. "And what are you doing way out here, Ben?"
Ben forced a casual tone. "Just trying to get away from it all. Things got a bit too hot in Disceroa. Figured I''d try my luck elsewhere. You?"
Mikhael stared at him for a moment longer before speaking. "We have a job, same as always. My men and I were following some merchant fellow, but when we caught up, the merchant and his men were already fighting. So, we sat back and watched the situation unfold, waiting to make our move. But then, more soldiers came, and in the chaos, one of the merchant''s men fled. We''ve been tracking him ever since."
Mikhael smiled at the end, a knowing glint in his eyes. Ben felt sweat start to slide down his forehead. They were tracking him, and worst of all they found him.
Ben''s mind raced. He had to play this carefully. "Tracking one of the merchant''s men, huh? Sounds like a wild chase. Did you catch him?"
Mikhael''s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. "Not yet. But we always get our man. And now, here you are, Ben, right in the middle of it all."
Ben swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. "Just a coincidence, I swear."
Mikhael''s eyes bore into him, and Ben knew the mercenary wasn''t buying his story. He had to find a way out of this, and fast.
"Listen, Mikhael," Ben said, trying to sound earnest, "I had no idea you were involved. If I can help, I will. You know me¡ªI¡¯m just trying to survive."
Mikhael''s eyes remained cold, but he gave a small nod. "You know how these things go, Ben. No hard feelings, yeah?"
Ben forced a chuckle, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, no hard feelings."
Mikhael leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "For me, I''d look the other way for a few bronze tales."
Ben breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he might be able to buy his way out of this mess. "I can manage that."
Mikhael''s smile turned predatory. "But I can''t. I''m getting paid ten gold tales for this, and that''s just half the payment. Can you honestly blame me?"
Ben''s relief evaporated, replaced by a growing sense of dread. "Who the fuck is paying you twenty gold tales?"
Mikhael shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Doesn''t matter. You''ll meet him shortly."
He motioned for his men to move. Ben quickly assessed the situation. There were five men in the barn with Mikhael and more outside. Fighting back was pointless. He was outnumbered.
"Alright, alright," Ben said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. "No need to get rough."
Mikhael smirked, clearly enjoying Ben''s predicament. "Smart choice, Ben. Now, let''s go."
They led Ben out of the barn, the grip on his arms firm but not overly harsh. As they stepped into the fading light, Ben could see the other mercenaries waiting, their eyes watchful and alert.
Mikhael guided him towards the edge of the village, where a makeshift camp had been set up. The firelight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the ground. In the center of the camp, a man sat, dressed in fine clothing.
The man was plump, with a round face that glistened with sweat despite the cool evening air. He wore a deep burgundy doublet, its fabric rich and finely embroidered with gold thread that formed intricate patterns along the seams and edges. The doublet was snug, its buttons straining slightly over his girth. His shirt, visible at the collar and cuffs, was made of white linen, the fabric pristine and crisp.
Draped over his shoulders was a dark green cloak, fastened with a brooch shaped like a roaring lion''s head, crafted from polished bronze. The cloak''s hem brushed the ground, lined with fur that looked to be from some exotic animal, providing both warmth and a display of wealth. His trousers were made of soft, dark leather, tailored to fit comfortably and tucked into high, polished boots that reached his knees.
A wide leather belt cinched his waist, adorned with a large, ornate buckle that sparkled in the firelight. Hanging from the belt was a small pouch, and a dagger with an intricately carved handle, its sheath inlaid with silver.
The man''s fingers were adorned with several rings, each one set with a different precious stone, glinting as he moved his hands. His face was framed by short, well-kept hair, and a thin beard traced his jawline, meticulously groomed.
"Well, well," the man said, his voice smooth and cultured. "What do we have here?"
Mikhael pushed Ben forward. "The runaway. Ben."
Ben tried to keep his fear in check, his mind racing to come up with a plan. "Who are you?"
The man smiled, but it didn''t reach his eyes. "Let''s just say I''m someone very interested in you."
The man walked closer, his gaze never leaving Ben''s face. "Now, Ben, why would you run? They won the battle, yet you still ran."
Ben''s mind raced, searching for a plausible explanation. "They didn''t like me. I had no choice if I wanted to survive."
The man raised an eyebrow. "That may be true, but that can''t be all there is to it. The only reason someone would run away from a group, especially one traveling with a merchant, is because that person managed to gain something of value." He glared at Ben. "Do you have something valuable?"
Before Ben could answer, the man turned to Mikhael. "Search him."
Mikhael''s men stepped forward, roughly patting Ben down. Ben''s mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this. But it was too late. One of the mercenaries found the scroll tucked inside Ben''s shirt and handed it to the finely dressed man.
"Thank you," the man said, unrolling the scroll.
The man''s face darkened as he read the scroll. He clicked his tongue and sighed, frustration etched in his features. Without a word, he took the scroll and tossed it into the campfire, watching it burn.
"One job," he muttered angrily. "He had one fucking job to do, and he couldn''t even do it right!"
Ben''s mind raced as he watched the man''s expression and processed his words. Suddenly, it clicked. His eyes widened as the realization hit him. "You''re the man that hired Mitch."
The man''s eyes narrowed, and a flicker of recognition crossed his face. "Very perceptive, Ben. Yes, I am the one who hired Mitch. And now, thanks to his incompetence, I''m left cleaning up his mess."
Mikhael cleared his throat and asked, "What''s next? We could still go back for the others."
Peter glared at him. "We should have done that in the first place, but you," he pointed a finger at Mikhael, "said it was a better idea to go for the one that ran away."
"But, Peter¡ª" Mikhael started, but Peter cut him off sharply.
"Now everything has been ruined," Peter snapped, rubbing his temple in frustration. His gaze shifted to Ben, cold and calculating. "I should gut you where you stand and leave your body for the animals. But that would be too easy."
Peter''s lips twisted into a cruel smile. "The slave arena has been lacking fighters as of late. I think you''ll make a fine addition."
Ben''s heart pounded in his chest. He tried to talk his way out of it, "Wait, I can¡ª"
Peter''s eyes blazed with fury. "If you say one more word, I''ll have your tongue."
Ben clamped his mouth shut. This was not the merchant that came to Mitch asking for help, that man was more subdued and easy to manage. This one, this man was something else.
He couldn''t become a slave, that was far worse than death. Especially when he''d be forced to fight to the death for others'' entertainment. There was a way out of this, he was sure of it. Ben did not come all this way and live this long to be forced into slavery. That''s not how his life was meant to go.
Peter''s voice cut through the noise of the camp. "And Mikhael, make sure our guest here doesn''t cause any trouble. I want him alive and in one piece when we reach the slave market."
51 – Winds of Change V
Evergreen, 19th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Celeste led Richard into the study, a cozy yet grand room. The walls were lined with towering bookshelves, each brimming with ancient tomes and scrolls. The rich scent of aged paper and polished wood filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of dried herbs. A large, ornate table stood in the center of the room, its surface scattered with parchment and inkpots. Soft light filtered in through a stained-glass window, casting colorful patterns on the dark wooden floor.
Celeste walked over to one of the shelves, her fingers gliding over the spines of the books as if greeting old friends. She selected a volume with a wooden cover wrapped in intricately stitched leather and handed it to Richard. As she did, their fingers brushed briefly, a subtle, electric moment that made Celeste¡¯s cheeks flush ever so slightly.
¡°This is?¡± Richard asked, his curiosity piqued as he opened the first page.
¡°The teachings of Dualisty,¡± Celeste explained, her voice gentle and reverent. ¡°It tells how our Pater created the world and everything within it, including us. There are five primary gods: Pater, Noctisara, Vitralis, Terravia, and Alune. Then there are the twelve lesser gods. The blood moon is an event that happens once every so often, but it is also significant. You were interested, so I thought you might like to learn more.¡±
Richard chuckled softly. ¡°You trying to convert me?¡± he teased, raising an eyebrow.
Celeste blushed, her eyes darting away for a moment before she met his gaze again, earnestness in her expression. ¡°No, no. Dualisty does not discriminate against other religions or those who do not believe. Everyone is a son or daughter in Pater''s eyes, and we all have our purpose.¡±
Richard nodded thoughtfully, setting the book down on the table. ¡°I¡¯ll read it, but I¡¯d also like to learn a bit more about the history of Evergreen. And¡ what was it you wanted to tell me yesterday?¡± he asked.
¡°There¡¯s something important you should know,¡± she began, her voice tinged with concern. ¡°I heard that Vale and Suncrest have formed an alliance. They¡¯re also preventing Disceroa from trading by sea in the Nortian Ocean."
Evergreen, 25th of Budrise, year 179 BN
Telium stood by the closed door, his posture rigid, eyes burning with intensity as he glared at Issac, who sat calmly in a chair, a glass of wine in his hand.
¡°Did you know?¡± Telium demanded.
Issac looked up, his expression unreadable. ¡°Know what?¡±
¡°Don¡¯t play dumb! What Lord Kirk did¡ªyou knew about it, didn¡¯t you?¡± Telium¡¯s voice rose, filled with accusation.
Issac took a measured sip of his wine, then set the glass down on the small table beside him. He leaned back in his chair, a hand running through his hair. ¡°I knew about the scrying stone, but his actions¡¡± He shook his head slowly. ¡°I didn¡¯t think he would go that far.¡±
Telium sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. ¡°The others will raise questions. Your reaction was... subdued. We can¡¯t afford to support a madman, Issac. His actions¡ª¡±
¡°His actions were extreme, I agree,¡± Issac interrupted, leaning forward. ¡°But you¡¯re forgetting he¡¯s old. He won¡¯t have much longer to sit and rule. What¡¯s important is who takes his position next. Kirk¡¯s legitimacy is now in question, and his two sons will face a difficult future because of it.¡±
Telium crossed his arms. ¡°Tell that to Marcus and Highlord Luther. With three councilmen gone, they¡¯ll have to be replaced.¡±
Issac nodded thoughtfully. ¡°Indeed, but this is the perfect time for us to move. Dyke¡¯s power has grown due to his outburst and will continue to grow in the coming weeks. However, we now outnumber him and can influence who takes one of the vacant spots.¡±
Telium stopped pacing, turning to face Issac fully. ¡°You still want to proceed? After all of this?¡±
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Issac met his gaze steadily, his eyes unwavering. ¡°We¡¯ve come too far to turn back now,¡± he replied.
Evergreen, 10th of Blossomspring, year 179 BN
Gregor, wiping sweat from his brow, set his hammer down and glanced over at Richard, who was staring absently at a pile of metal scraps.
"What''s wrong with you? You''ve been out of it for days," Gregor asked, concern etching his rugged features.
Richard shook his head, snapping out of his reverie. "Just been busy is all, and there''s a lot going on right now. You know what¡¯s happening, right?"
Gregor waved a dismissive hand. "Blah! A bunch of human nonsense is all. It doesn''t bother me, but maybe you shouldn''t have pushed yourself so hard working on that carriage of yours."
Richard¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, "Hey, that carriage will be needed, especially once the war ends. We need more iron ore if we want to produce steel."
Gregor pointed to the blazing furnace. "Indeed, but if we want to use this graphite, then we have to get the mixture right."
Richard nodded, conceding the point. Gregor was right. The political turmoil and endless tasks were wearing him down. There was so much happening behind the scenes that most citizens weren''t aware of. He would rather remain ignorant, but Issac kept him informed, pushing him to build relationships with other nobles. On top of that, he had to deal with keeping his relationship with Roxanne, design a new carriage for potential trade routes, plan the construction of new facilities, and perfect the steel-making process with the right amount of graphite. There just was not enough time to manage everything.
He took a deep breath, trying to focus. "Let''s try this again then. Firestones last about ten hours before their heat begins to diminish, and six of them together in the furnace can melt steel." Richard began explaining everything he had learned about firestones and their use in the past few weeks
Evergreen, 1st of Summerlight, year 179 BN
Lord Kirk sat behind his ornate desk, rubbing his temples in frustration. Aiden, his most trusted aide, stood before him, his posture rigid and his expression serious.
"What are you saying, Aiden?" Lord Kirk asked, his voice tinged with fatigue.
Aiden took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "I''m just saying that the councilmen have been very cautious lately. I also have a theory. Would you like to hear it?"
Lord Kirk gestured for him to continue. "Go on."
Aiden stepped closer, lowering his voice. "That blacksmith, Richard. He''s been seen frequently moving around the city, mingling with the nobility. I mean no disrespect, but my lord, I think you may have acted too quickly in your actions. While there is some suspicion that one of the councilmen has been acting against you, we cannot say for certain. We only got that information from Richard." He paused, watching for Lord Kirk¡¯s reaction before continuing.
Lord Kirk leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "And?"
"We don''t know anything about the young man. I''ve done a little digging, and no one knows where he came from. He just appeared here one day¡ªno family, no history. People who know him find him interesting, believe he has some kind of foreign knowledge. He showed us his steel weaponry, created a unique transportation method. How can one man hold so much knowledge? It¡¯s odd, if you think about it. Everything that has happened lately¡ªdon¡¯t you think he''s been at the center of it all?" Aiden asked, his tone insistent.
Lord Kirk frowned, leaning forward. "You''re going to have to be more clear about what you mean."
Aiden nodded, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "Richard has been increasing his influence within the city, gaining friends in both the lower and higher districts. First, he gained influence with Gregor, which made us notice him. This led to discussions with Issac and others, drawing more attention to him. Then he left the city with Benjamin, who, I need not remind you, hates your family, and stumbled across a plot that could have crippled us. He left out details about what really happened on his journey, yet you rewarded him with substantial plots of land for his business venture. Tensions in the council were already high due to Dyke, and now we¡¯re on the verge of a civil war. We don¡¯t know if we caught the real culprit. Your plan was to make it clear that betrayal wouldn''t be tolerated and force the culprit to rethink their actions, but what if¡ªwhat if the culprit was Richard? With council positions still vacant, he could rise and take a spot. When that happens, what¡¯s next? He¡¯s too mysterious, my lord. We should be cautious of him instead of Dyke."
Lord Kirk¡¯s eyes widened slightly. "You think Richard is the cause of all this?"
"I do."
"But how would he know anything about the inner workings of our city? He wasn''t around, as you''ve said. I just don''t see how it¡¯s possible," Lord Kirk countered, skepticism in his voice.
Aiden leaned in, his voice a whisper. "There''s always Benjamin. He might not have been on the best of terms with his father, but he grew up around nobility and still has some of those connections. You also said you didn¡¯t think Peter would be able to do something like this. He was a spineless coward and a merchant, without the resources or influence to act in such a manner. That could also be why Lord Ike has not sent a reply."
Lord Kirk sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair, contemplating Aiden''s words. "I will take your words under advisement."
Aiden nodded, stepping back. "Thank you, my lord."
Lord Kirk watched Aiden leave the room, doubt creeping into his mind. He couldn¡¯t see Richard as the mastermind behind these plots¡ªit seemed like utter nonsense. But Aiden¡¯s points were unsettlingly logical. The man was mysterious, and that had to change.
52 – Variable I
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
A sigh attempted to ripple through the void, though no breath propelled it. A luminous orb¡ªdevoid of a mouth or any human feature¡ªfloated within an endless expanse of white, confronting a small, blue sphere that hovered before it.
"What troubles you?" inquired a voice, ethereal and genderless.
"Monotony," lamented the orb as it morphed into a vaguely human silhouette, still composed entirely of light. "Existence here lacks... excitement, Father."
From the formless white, another entity materialized, its outline suggesting masculinity in the most abstract sense. Its brilliance could blind an onlooker, though none would find themselves in this expanse.
"Patience," the entity recognized as Father counseled. "The story of existence unfolds gradually. Do not hasten its threads."
"The omniscience granted to me is a curse! To see the span of eternity¡ªpast, present, future¡ªleaves me with no surprises, no joy in discovery," the first being protested, its form flickering with frustration.
"Ah, but remember, you chose this path. With creation comes responsibility. You must nurture what you''ve brought into existence," Father replied, his tone as impassive as the void around them.
Despite their attempts, emotion eluded their voices, a concept too human and too trivial for beings of their stature.
With a gesture mimicking resignation, the light-being shook its head. "Is there not a way to inject unpredictability into my realm? A variable, perhaps, beyond my sight?"
"Consider this," Father suggested, waving a hand to summon five more orbs. "These anomalies, my so-called ''failures,'' were attempts at introducing chaos for vibrancy''s sake. But with unpredictability comes potential destruction. Is that a risk you''re willing to take?"
"I crave not chaos, but a spark¡ªa being with untethered will, placed among my creations. How would they influence the world? How would the world change them?" the light-being mused.
Father regarded the other with a gaze that pierced the ethereal. "You tread a perilous path. Disturbing the equilibrium of your world is a grave matter."
"Yet, it could be fascinating. A controlled experiment, if you will. I yearn for something beyond the endless cycle of creation and omniscience," the first being argued, its form shimmering with anticipation.
"Very well, proceed as you wish. However, your choice shall be confined to one of my realms¡ªWorld 231-X-Earth, to be precise. Any other selection would bring about an upheaval too profound for even me to contemplate. Moreover, the individual will be selected at random, one whose thread of life is destined to be cut within the year. Should you deviate from these stipulations, the constraints I''ve placed upon you will remain unaltered. Comprehend you this condition?" Father delineated, his voice imbued with an immutable firmness.
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The luminous being, now mirroring a human''s excitement yet devoid of any physical substance, affirmed with a vigorous nod, a manifestation of their eagerness. "Absolutely, without reservation! When may I embark on this venture?"
"Immediately," Father declared, with a gesture of dismissal toward the previously summoned orbs, which dissipated, supplanted by a new sphere¡ªthis one a meld of blue and white, marginally larger and radiating a distinct aura.
Extending a hand, the deity-in-human-guise tenderly seized the newly appeared sphere. With utmost delicacy, it extracted an entity so minuscule, akin to a speck of dust, and approached the blue sphere that had been their focal point.
"You overlook a crucial element. That soul requires a vessel; absent one, it will merge into the fabric of the world, destined for eventual reincarnation. Such is the natural order," Father reminded, his tone layered with wisdom and an implicit warning.
Acknowledging the oversight, the deity glanced back at Father, a query forming. "Might I endow this soul with an ability? The denizens of this world have yet to unlock the arcane, save for the creatures that roam their lands. Yet, for navigation and understanding, knowledge of their tongue is essential, is it not?"
"Conceded," Father acquiesced, with a nuance of reluctance. "But tread lightly. The introduction of magic is a profound alteration to their evolutionary path."
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Were it capable of human expressions, the deity would have sported a satisfied smile. The fabric of destiny had been altered significantly in such a brief span, an unprecedented number of changes stemming from the introduction of a single variable. The paths of those influenced by this anomaly were veering in unforeseen directions, brightening trajectories that once led only to darkness.
The future of the variable remained a mystery, an exhilarating uncertainty. Yet, the deity could glimpse the futures of those influenced by it, like the woman whose life it had unwittingly intertwined with the variable''s. She was destined to bear a child, a future the deity could not predict, sparking a thrill of anticipation within its essence.
The thought then struck: what if more variables were introduced? The potential cascading effects of two, three, or even more anomalies were tantalizing to consider.
Turning, it noted Father''s absence. The constraints previously lifted had not been reinstated, presenting a fleeting opportunity for further action. World 231-X-Earth, while not directly within its power to summon, had left a trace of Father''s energy, a loophole it could exploit to momentarily bring the world back into its reach.
With focused intent, the deity managed to momentarily resurrect the presence of World 231-X-Earth, using the lingering essence of Father''s power. It imposed additional criteria to narrow the selection, aiming for a soul that would add another layer of complexity to its experiment.
In a metaphorical blink, it had chosen another soul, integrating it seamlessly into its burgeoning narrative. This soul found a new home not in the ether, but directly within the woman, bypassing the need for a conventional vessel. Her form would provide the necessary cradle for this new life.
As quickly as it appeared, World 231-X-Earth faded from reach. The deity scanned its surroundings; all remained undisturbed by its machinations. Now, it was a matter of observation, waiting to see the unfoldment of events it had set into motion.
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
The light-being tapped its feet on the empty void space it stood on. Something was wrong, very wrong. It knew exactly what the problem was, yet, it couldn''t fix it.
The denizens of the world it created had no access to the arcane, and the path they would take would lead them to find ways to bend magic to their will. It already foresaw this long ago, but it should take eons before it would occur naturally.
Yet, there was a shift taking place at this very moment that would propel them forward.
The cause was the variable he introduced into the world. Was this what Father was trying to warn it about?
53 – Variable II [Book 1 Complete – Editing in Progress]
United States, Huston Texas
Year 2020
Anitta rubbed the ring on her left hand once more, she tended to do this often these days. She could still remember the day Peter proposed to her, it felt like ages ago but it was only last year. They haven''t gotten married as of yet, they were only engaged. This was supposed to be the time of her life, so why was she so sad?
Her finger stopped moving as she sighed and adjusted the rearview mirror. So much happened within the last year, too much for her. Mr. Scott passed away, and he was one of the only fatherly figures in her life. He wasn''t the most joyful person to be around, but he did give her good advice.
It was an unexpected event, there wasn''t really anything wrong with him from what she knew. He didn''t smoke or drink, he just simply died. A heart attack is what they told her at the hospital.
Not many people showed up to his funeral, a couple of his neighbors, some old people she wasn''t acquainted with and members of the service he was a veteran of. It was small, not more than twenty people.
She missed him, even if he could be a bit grumpy at times. She always pictured him at her wedding, just thinking of that made her smile. There were many times she sat and watched him work. Anitta never understood what he was doing at the time, but now that she was thirty she felt like she did.
Everyone needed a hobby, something they could do that would help them focus and relax. For Mr. Scott it was blacksmithing and crafting, he always was doing something with his hands. For her, it was collecting trains, something she never went out of her way to tell people. It wasn''t the most glorious hobby in life, but it was hers.
Anitta liked trains, although she couldn''t be sure if it was because Mr. Scott made her one out of wood when she was a child. It was in her bedroom on the top shelf, she never got rid of it. While she did enjoy collecting them, they wouldn''t pay the bills.
That''s why she was a nurse. It wasn''t a field she thought she would be in growing up, but, after her mother got sick she changed her mind. Honestly, it was the best decision she made. The only regret Anitta had was that she wished she had become one sooner.
Anitta adjusted the rearview mirror again, this time pausing to look at her reflection. Her tired eyes stared back at her, there were dark circles beneath them after a grueling twenty-four-hour shift. The patients never stopped coming, and tonight was especially tough. Five critical patients had been brought in after a severe car crash, and many others had arrived with flu-like symptoms. The ER was jam-packed, the flu season hitting hard this year.
She ran a hand through her long brown hair, which cascaded down her back in loose waves. It was getting long again, almost time for a cut. "What am I doing?" Anitta shook her head as she set the rearview mirror back in its normal position.
Lowering the sunvisor, she grabbed the photo she kept there and gazed at it. It was a picture of her, Mr. Scott, and her mother, taken outside her old high school on her graduation day. It was the only picture she had of the three of them together, at least the most recent one.
Mr. Scott, an older black man with a grizzled beard and kind eyes, stood proudly on her left. He wore his usual stern expression, but she could see the pride shining through. Her mother, a beautiful woman with a warm smile, stood on her right, beaming with joy. Anitta, in her graduation cap and gown, stood between them, holding her diploma.
She let out a small laugh. She was so young then, and they made it out to be a big deal. Honestly, she was just happy she didn''t end up pregnant or fall into drugs like some of her friends. It was the one thing her mom kept reminding her of, annoyingly so. That was ten years ago, how times have changed since then.
Anitta traced her finger over their faces, feeling a deep pang of loss. She missed them both so much. They had always believed in her, even when she doubted herself. She smiled through her tears, remembering how Mr. Scott had teased her about tripping on stage during the graduation ceremony, and how her mother had fussed over her gown.
She took a deep breath, carefully placing the photo back in its spot. "Okay, let''s get through this," she whispered to herself, starting the car. She had just pulled out of the parking lot when her phone rang. The familiar sound of her iPhone 11, encased in a Minnie Mouse phone case, filled the car. Glancing at the screen, she saw it was Peter. She wondered what he was doing up; it was already ten at night, and he normally would be asleep by now.
She connected the Bluetooth and answered the call, "Hey, Peter."
"Hey, where are you?" Peter''s voice came through the speakers, sounding slightly concerned.
"I''m leaving the parking lot now," Anitta replied, her eyes scanning the road as she drove.
"Didn''t you just get off?" he asked.
"Yeah," she admitted, stifling a yawn. "I did."
"Maybe you should take a nap before driving home," Peter suggested. She could picture the furrowed brow he must have had as he said it.
"I already did," Anitta reassured him, managing a small smile despite her fatigue. "Just a quick one, but I''m good."
"Alright," Peter said, though he didn''t sound entirely convinced. He let out a grunt, and Anitta''s curiosity was piqued.
"What''s wrong?" she asked, glancing at the rearview mirror out of habit.
"Nothing," he replied quickly, but Anitta could tell there was something on his mind. He changed the subject. "Have you eaten anything?"
"Kind of," she answered vaguely, knowing he wouldn''t be satisfied with that response.
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"Are you up for some Thai food tonight?" he asked.
"Thai food sounds amazing," Anitta said, a small smile playing on her lips. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard, noting the late hour. "But I don''t think any Thai restaurants are open right now."
"I can make some," Peter offered.
Anitta laughed, the sound genuine despite her exhaustion. "Peter, you can barely make pancakes."
"Hey, as long as I can cook up some ramen noodles, I''ll be fine," he replied.
"Are you really going to cook?" Anitta asked, skepticism creeping into her voice. "Because honestly, I don''t think I could eat anything. I just want to go to bed."
Peter sighed softly. "Alright, it''s just been a while since we had Thai, that''s all."
"How about tomorrow?" Anitta suggested.
"I''d like that," Peter said, but then he hesitated. "But I have to go to California tomorrow. I''ve got a flight to catch at nine."
"Oh yeah, that''s right, you have a business meeting," Anitta said, trying to keep her tone neutral.
"Why do you have to say it like that?" Peter asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.
"Say it like what?" Anitta replied, feigning innocence.
"Like the way you just did," Peter insisted.
"I said it normally," Anitta retorted, rolling her eyes. She thought back to the time Peter had gone on a ''business'' trip, and she found out he wasn''t even working that day. She had called Derek, Peter''s friend, to see if they went out to play basketball, and he had confirmed it. She knew it was a lie because Peter was supposed to be at work, and he never mentioned anything about playing basketball.
Anitta sighed, pushing the memory aside. She didn''t want to start an argument, not when she was so tired. "Look, I''m just tired, okay? We''ll talk more when I get home."
"Yeah, alright," Peter said, sounding resigned. "Drive safe, okay?"
"I will," Anitta promised. She ended the call and focused on the road ahead.
As she drove, her mind wandered. She hoped this trip to California was really for business. Trust had been a tricky thing lately, and she wasn''t sure if it was her own insecurities or something more. Either way, she didn''t have the energy to dwell on it tonight. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and escape into sleep.
She needed something to lift her spirits. "Hey, Siri," she called out.
"Yes?" Siri responded in her calm, mechanical voice.
"Play ''September'' by Earth, Wind, and Fire," Anitta requested. Whenever she felt like crap, this song always brought her some comfort. Mr. Scott had played it often when he took her places, along with other classic hits.
"Playing ''September'' by Earth, Wind, and Fire," Siri confirmed. Moments later, the familiar upbeat tune filled the car, and Anitta felt a bit of the tension ease from her shoulders. She hummed along, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.
The joyful melody and vibrant energy of the song brought back fond memories of Mr. Scott. He would always crank up the volume, singing along with a smile on his face. It was one of those small, happy memories that had stayed with her through the years.
She was lost in the rhythm when suddenly, a car sped past a red light, forcing her to slam on the brakes. Her heart pounded as she gripped the wheel tightly, her breath caught in her throat. She had narrowly avoided a collision.
Before she could fully process what had happened, a loud crash echoed through the night. Anitta looked out the window and saw the speeding car had collided with another vehicle at the intersection. The impact was severe; metal crumpled and glass shattered, sending shards glittering across the pavement.
The speeding car, a dark sedan, had smashed into the side of a small silver SUV. The force of the collision had pushed both vehicles several feet from the intersection, leaving deep gouges in the asphalt. The sedan¡¯s front end was crumpled, its headlights shattered and flickering, while the SUV had tipped onto its side, resting precariously against a streetlight.
Steam and smoke billowed from the mangled hoods of both cars, mingling with the acrid smell of burning rubber and spilled gasoline. The air was filled with the eerie wail of car alarms.
Without thinking, Anitta pulled over to the side of the road and jumped out of her car, rushing over to the scene of the accident. Her footsteps echoed against the pavement as she approached, her mind racing with the urgency of the situation.
"Are you okay?" she called out as she approached the first car. The driver, an older man, groaned in response, struggling to unbuckle his seatbelt. Blood trickled down his forehead from a cut above his eyebrow, and his movements were sluggish, likely from shock or a possible concussion.
"I''m a nurse," Anitta said, trying to keep her voice calm and reassuring. "Just stay still, help is on the way." She pulled out her phone and dialed 911, giving the dispatcher the details of the accident and their location.
Moving to the second car, she found an older woman gripping the steering wheel, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. The SUV was leaning dangerously, and Anitta knew she had to be careful.
"Ma''am, can you hear me?" Anitta asked gently, assessing the woman for any visible injuries.
The woman nodded weakly, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes, I... I think so."
"Help is coming," Anitta assured her. "Just try to stay calm and don''t move. You''re going to be okay."
Quickly examining the scene, Anitta determined that the woman didn''t need any immediate help. She rushed back to the older man''s vehicle for a closer inspection. As she approached, she noticed the man was wearing a dark blue uniform, a white shirt beneath it, and a tie that had been loosened in the chaos. His shoulder was bleeding heavily, and upon closer inspection, she realized he''d been shot.
Her heart raced as she saw a metal rod piercing his side, initially hidden by his slumped position. The man groaned again, and as he moved slightly, a police badge slipped from his jacket and clattered to the ground.
"Sir, stay still," Anitta said, her voice firm but soothing. "You''ve been severely wounded. I''m a nurse, I''m here to help."
The man''s eyes fluttered open, his face contorting in pain and panic as he focused on her. "Get out of here," he managed to grit out, his voice strained.
Startled, Anitta asked, "Why? You''re hurt; you need help."
The man gritted his teeth and moved slightly, revealing a partially open black bag on the passenger seat. Her eyes widened as she saw a digital clock inside, ticking down.
"What''s in the bag?" Anitta asked, her voice trembling slightly despite her attempt to stay calm.
"Just go!" the man insisted, his panic escalating.
Anitta''s mind raced as she glanced at the clock. Ten seconds left. Her breath caught in her throat. She didn''t have anywhere to run or hide, and the reality of the situation hit her like a tidal wave. She was trapped.
The older man did his best to tell her to get away. "Please... get away from here," he whispered, his strength fading but his urgency clear.
Anitta looked over at the SUV where the older woman was still strapped in, unconscious or too dazed to move. She knew it was too late for any of them. Panic surged through her veins, and a million questions flooded her mind. Why the hell didn¡¯t he turn on his sirens? Why was he driving down this road?
She felt a bitter twist in her gut. None of it made sense, and yet here they were. The ticking of the clock grew louder, each second a hammer strike against her sanity.
Five seconds.
She glanced back at the man, his eyes glazed with a mixture of pain and regret. "I''m sorry," he managed to say, his voice barely audible.
Four seconds.
Anitta''s heart pounded in her chest, a wild, uncontrollable rhythm. She wanted to scream, to run, to do anything but stand there helplessly.
Three seconds.
She closed her eyes, a single tear escaping down her cheek. She thought of Peter, of Mr. Scott, of her mother. She thought of the life she still wanted to live.
Two seconds.
She opened her eyes, meeting the man''s gaze one last time. There was a strange calmness in his eyes now, a resigned acceptance.
One second.
The world seemed to slow down as the clock hit zero. The last thing she heard was the man''s final, whispered plea: "Forgive me."