Writer’s note: Previously, I had been posting what would basically equate to full chapters in a larger work. I was finding that hard to keep motivated through. Going forward I am going to try and post smaller chunks so that I feel more able to tackle the writing.
Enyo awoke to a loud thud at her door. She sprang from her bed, hands raised to unleash her powers upon whomever dared to burst into her room in the middle of the night. However, as the seconds passed, she became aware that it wasn’t quite the middle of the night. The faint glow of the rising sun penetrated her window, and she recalled she had actually taken on a job the night before.
The thud repeated. “Enyo? This is the right room isn’t it? Did you change your mind?”
Enyo recognized the deep voice of Ixar on the other side of the door. She let out a sigh of relief. “Yes yes, I’ll be down in a second! Just needed more rest than I thought I did,” she shouted back through the door, swiftly gathering her things and changing into some fresh clothes. Bathing could wait for a more opportune moment. Ocean-breeze, sweat, and a hint of ale wasn’t the worst combination of scents to grace the nostrils of the denizens of Kalladon after all.
By the time she had finished, Ixar was no longer waiting at her door. Enyo made her way down the narrow hallway and decently maintained steps and found herself back in the tavern. She recognized a few faces from the night before, either collapsed between their empty mugs or shaking off the last of their stupor before finally retiring. Over near the hearth, she spotted Ixar at a long table alongside three other adventurers. She was quickly waved over.
“Good of you to finally join us, Enyo,” Ixar said, approximating another smile. “I suppose introductions are in order then?”
“Aye well before we go’n do that,” one of the two human males started, “you had mentioned we’d be gettin’ twenty percent of the mines usual output, but we had yet to be informed what that’d be.” He crossed his arms as he finished, signaling he demanded an answer before they continued.
Ixar narrowed her eyes, and pulled a parchment from her bag. “I believe the mine owner had listed it here,” she said, reviewing what was apparently an extensive text, “ah yes, the exact payment will be four-hundred gold pieces. I have therefore recruited four of you for even splits, with the Guild retaining a separate portion for their service. Satisfied?” She rolled the parchment back up, placing it back in the bag tied around her belt.
The human turned towards the other one, which Enyo was now noticing looked exactly like him. “Aye, yes that’ll do,” he said simply.
Ixar stared at everyone for a moment. “As I said. Perhaps we should start with introductions.”
“Well,” Enyo spoke up, “you got the basics. I’m Enyo. I may not look like it, but I can hold my own in a fight. However, my specialty is dealing with the people. Diplomatically, I mean.” She offered a slight curtsy, and finally took her seat at the table.
Next, the two humans stood. The one from before spoke first, “Name’s Aldrick Haywood, and this here’s my brother, Egar. We’ve been travelin’ the Confederacy, seekin’ opportunity to build our reputation as mercenaries.” The two stood proudly, and Enyo noted their battered wooden shields and crude swords leaned against the hearth.
“They’ve completed two contracts with the Guild already,” Ixar added, “although this is my first time meeting them. I was assured they would be reliable if this job turned violent.”
The brothers seemed to enjoy the addition.
The rest of them turned to the last seated person, who had yet to say anything at all. She quietly sipped on some sort of steaming beverage before standing. “I am called Marienne, and that is all you need to know about me, save that my marksmanship is impeccable.” She seated herself again, adjusting the longbow by her chair after the slight movements. Enyo took all of Marienne in — she wasn’t quite sure how she hadn’t really noticed her before, but now that she had, she was an unusual specimen. Elves were rare outside of Caer Bella, but the ones she had met would best described as literal rays of sunshine. Their bright hair and sun-kissed skin gave them a glow of summer, even in the near arctic conditions they lived in. Marienne, however, was the opposite. Her skin was pale and pallid. Her hair likewise was a greyish white. If the typical elves were the embodiment of the a summer day, Marienne was a winter night. She made a note to research that later, perhaps ask the elven envoy to Torgar if she ever returned there.
“And you all know me from before,” Ixar said finishing the introductions, “I am Ixar Veridius, local master of the Adventurer’s Guild. Well, shall we go over the details?”
The assembled crew all nodded in agreement, all save Marienne seemingly unused to being awake at this point.
“We will make for the mining town of Wellington, which is about five hours to the North-West if we’re quick about it. I’m confident we can arrive before noon, and make contact with Mayor Wellington. If all goes well, we are to remind the mayor of his contractual obligations to supply the Ironscale Iron Works with ore and be on our way with a note of acknowledgment. This will be considered satisfactory for your employment with the Guild. Part of this will include an inspection of the mine for any delays that could halt production in the future. The town itself is home to about fifty people, twenty mine workers and their families. The worst case scenario will likely see us faced with a militia of roughly a dozen people that are even remotely a threat. Are there any questions before we set out?”
Everyone exchanged glances around the table except for Marienne, who continued to take the occasional quiet sip of her beverage. Enyo broke the silence, “What if there’s trouble that isn’t the cobbled together militia of Wellington?”
“Well,” Ixar started, “I suppose that’s why they contracted the Adventurer’s Guild for this?” She did her best to make it sound motivational, but no one was particularly convinced.
“Right, well. A dozen blokes with sticks being the worst, I think it’s safe t’say we’ve nothin’ to swear,” Aldrick added with a nod from his brother. “This should be the quickest hundred gold I’ve ever earned.”
Seemingly all in agreement, Ixar dismissed their little meeting and they began to gather their things. Enyo wasn’t particularly thrilled about walking for five hours, but at least it was late Winter in the Confederacy, which even in the depth of it was mild. Coming from a volcanic island though, she made sure to put on her travelling coat.
They met outside The Ruffled Feather a few minutes later, where Enyo was treated to chuckle from Egar. “What’s wrong demon, little cold away from the hells?” He seemed infinitely amused with himself, and Aldrick cracked a slight smile himself. She shot them both a glare.
“Ooh, careful Egar. She might steal your soul!” He lunged playfully at his brother with the words, eliciting more laughter from the both of them.
“Well they’re not wrong,” Angel said into her thoughts.
“Not. Now.” Enyo was not in the mood for him on top of all of this.
“Settle down there lads, we don’t squabble about such things on Guild time,” Ixar chided them, towering over them with her draconic form.
“Just a bit of fun,” Egar shrugged, “gotta keep ourselves entertained on the walk.” The brothers laughed again, falling in behind Ixar as she led them towards the city’s West Gate. Marienne and Enyo stayed a few paces back, but neither said anything to the other.
Southport was just starting to come alive with dawn. The fishermen had already left for the sea, but the rest of the tradesmen and merchants were just beginning their day and slowly filling the streets. They exited the West Gate around the same time as the first trader, on his way to the Republic with whatever goods he had in his carts. Shielded from the worst of the Northern winds by the mountains, the air was relatively still save for the gentle ocean breeze now that they were outside the slightly claustrophobic city that clung to the naturally formed harbor.
They travelled for about an hour up a slight incline as they left the river bottoms that flowed into the harbor, and the hearty vegetation of the Eastmarch began to return in full vigor from the bustles of society. The trees around them, though, were notably young growth. The Confederacy had struggled to rebuild its fleet in the aftermath of the emergence of the Sargok Empire, and had overturned long-standing conservation agreements to provide for the common defense. Only now were some of the outlying forests starting to recover, the scars of industry visible to those that knew where to look. Enyo hadn’t ventured too far into the continent of Avar herself, but from what she understood she may not even begin to see a forest older than a few decades until they reached the more remote locations of the Confederacy.
Another hour, and the walls of Southport were no longer visible across the hilly countryside. Fresh wagon tracks and horse droppings were the only signs of recent life along the roads, although they were about to come across the first of the farms that patch-worked the land between the crowded ports of the Confederacy. According to Ixar, they would only pass two or three more farms along the major roads. Most farmers chose plots further from the roads, content to subsist on the land while only occasionally taking to the cart trails the flowed into the main roads like streams into rivers. The majority of the plots they would pass functioned like checkpoints for the merchants and pilgrims travelling the roads. A quick to place to stop and rest, find a quick meal, or trade some goods. Some could even make accommodations for a handful of people if they wouldn’t make it to a town before night fell or a storm struck, but they weren’t true inns by any standards.
“They will both kill you the moment they think they can, you know,” the voice in Enyo’s head flared to life as they approached the first fences of the farm plot on their right.
“I would like to see them try,” she replied internally.
“I think I would too. You may not have to wait long though, can’t you feel their scorn?”
“I heard them talk, isn’t that enough?”
“So you can’t. Humans always have a particular… aura about them, when they decide such things,” he replied with amusement.
“You can sense that?” It had been a long time since Enyo had done anything remotely resembling adventuring, being content with the life she stumbled into as a diplomat for the ever-entertaining Torgarians. Her few years wandering after acquiring “Angel” were never quite as talkative.
“It comes and goes. Your intent heightened everything, and I could read upon them plain as day.”
“My intent?”
“No one would miss them. Just remember that,” he said smugly.
Just like that, she felt his presence fade from his mind, signaling he wasn’t going to reply to whatever she retorted with. He was right, however. From the moment they threw their first sneers at her — and Marienne — she had wanted to show them exactly how diplomacy was conducted in Torgar. She wouldn’t let them provoke her though. If Angel was right about them though, she wouldn’t be the one to strike first – but she would definitely be the one to strike the final blow of whatever they engagement they chose to start.
Rampant Swan 