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tarithenurse · 2 months ago

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I see fire - 11

Fandom: D&D 5E/homebrew campaign. Word count: 2229. Contents: Friendly sneak attack A/N: I know no one reads this story but I want to share something and this lives in my head anyways - so there you go. Any questions are welcome. Please comment and like and reblog. Let me know if you want a tag. Divider by @firefly-graphics

Continuing eastish on yet another sunny day, it’s as though Morella has forgotten the discomfort of the night before too. She’s smiling and happy, her skin a lovely shade of green and tiny pink flowers blooming in her hair as she almost skips down the road. She’s a sight to behold and it’s no wonder that the few passersby make big eyes and return her bright smile – though perhaps with a tad of concern of their own.

By evening, the three make camp not far from the road but it’s not long before the girls spy a cart with two people heading westwards towards the city. The cart appears empty and the guy next to the driver wears a red bandana that seems eerily familiar, causing at least Zilvra to tense up where she’s hiding in the bushes.

“I’m telling you, if we don’t stop and get some food soon I’ll eat you,” the non-driver complains.

“And I’m telling you...in your dreams will you get to do that,” his friend chuckles.

Watching them trundle past, Zilvra relaxes the hand that’d grabbed the hilt of her rapier.

Too soon though.

There’s a soft “pop” or “poof” and then Morella is no longer next to the drow but standing right in front of the cart, spooking not only the poor horse but also the two people. And while the driver simply swears loudly, trying to get the horse under control, the other guy draws two daggers that the rogue instantly recognizes as being the same kind the grape thief used: old military issue of Stouvania.

“Hi!” the druid grins, “heard you needed a place to rest and figured you could share with us. I’ll make berries!”

A beat of silence follows during which the humans have to take in what just happened.

“Us?” the guy with the daggers asks with concern in his voice.

“Berries?” the other guys whimpers, collapsing slightly against the back of the bench as he lets out a deflating sound after having been scared.

Deciding there’s no immediate danger, Zilvra exits the shrubbery and walks closer. “Pardon my friend, she can be a bit...enthusiastic at times.”

“You say?! Damn, girl, don’t go jumping out on people like that you’ll scare them to death!” the guys with the daggers complain, but he sheathes his weapons anyways and pulls down the bandana, revealing a fairly handsome face for a mature human.

Following the women’s advice, the newcomers get the cart off the road and make their way to the shade of the big tree where Anvindr has been tending a small fire and whittling away. Introductions are made, revealing that the driver is called Elmer and he’s a good friend of the other guy called Harris.

Taking their seats, it’s Elmer who does most of the talking to begin with, explaining how they are heading south to buy grain for the production of beer and spirits.

“And you?” he asks as a manner of keeping the conversation going.

“We’ve promised to check in with the tanner to see what’s up,” Anvindr explains, “apparently, goods aren’t making their way to Stouvania anymore.”

The two men share a brief glance, brows furrowed.

“Think anything happened?” Elmer worries.

Harris shakes his head. “They know how to fend for themselves.”

“Thank gods,” Morella beams, “cause there is always something to watch out for.”

“You can say that twice, lady,” Harris nods. “To the south at the abandoned quarry past the village there are ogres and some of them are even smart enough to use magic!” When he talks, he motions a great deal with his arms. “And there’s the wolf-beast, not quite a good description but it’s the best we can because it’s just...different. And if you cross the road further south towards the jungle then there’s the Terror which snatches people at night and there’s never any sign of them again.”

Zilvra can’t help but be happy they aren’t going that way. “What about east?”

“Then you get to Silver Keep. Now that’s an independent city with it’s own watch corps,” Harris explains. “And east of that are the swamps.”

Elmer nods. “Don’t know much about them, though. But north...”

“Yeah, to the north once you’re through the orc territory you’ll get to the elves,” Harris finishes his friend’s sentence.

“What sort of elf?” Morella asks sweetly.

“High elves.” Harris adds a few branches to the fire, eventually content with how they burn. “So tell us...why’d you decide to adventure?”

The trio looks at each other.

“It kinda just...happened?” Anvindr admits.

“Wow, that’s some bad luck right there then,” Harris mumbles, earning a small nod from his partner. “Started with coming to Stouvania, to be fucking honest. Place’s corrupt as they come.” He sighs. “I used to think better of this country but...now I just keep my head down and stay out of the way. Maybe do a bit of overbidding to bother some of the nobles in the city.”

Zilvra watches him as he speaks: though he’s past his prime, he isn’t ugly, she supposes – for a human. But what strikes her is the way he carries himself and the callouses on his hands both of which points to some sort of martial arts and weapons training. Quietly, she rubs a thumb along her own callouses in her right palm. Then there’s the weapons he carries and the bandana.

“Tell you what,” Harris smiles jovially, “if you get tired of being pawns in Stouvania then go to Silver Keep and find the smith Lawrence there. Tell him ‘Harris sent you’.”

Bandana. Old military issued gear. Overbidding means some sort of backer or the money would dry up too soon. Smiling discreetly to herself, the drow decides that they have created contact with the Masons although it hasn’t been said out loud...and she’s more than happy to play ignorant for a while longer.

Zoning back in on the conversation, she listens to how the tanners and loggers at the Lockett Logging Camp have a sort of symbiosis ensuring they are well enough off to even run a sort of inn for the traders who come calling.

---

It had felt odd to bid Elmer and Harris goodbye in the morning but after another few days on the road, the trio is more focused on what’s ahead of them:

A great clearing with a long, two story house on an angle to a sort of barrack is placed among the stumps and piles of logs. There’s also another open structure which emits a cacophony of sounds. Around the open space are trees that clearly are tended to, growing in sections according to their age and thus size. On the left side is a smaller house and several hides have been strung out tightly in wooden frames and someone’s tending to them but the trio has little time to take any of that in before they’re faced with a burly fellow.

Curly blond hair and tan skin, he pauses from ordering the loggers about to face the visitors. “What can I do for you?” he asks more brusquely than they had anticipated.

“Been sent to see if everything’s alright with the tanner,” Anvindr answers. “Apparently the leathers and such aren’t coming through anymore.”

“What? That sounds like a lot of bullshit but go talk with her yourself,” the man answers, pointing to the figure tending to the hides by the edge of the forest.

Following the directions, the trio heads over and sees a woman who introduces herself as Amelia Manos.

“No, nothing’s wrong as such,” she says upon hearing why the adventurers have come, “just that the pay was too low.” Leaning against a tree, she pushes the auburn hair out of her face. “Sue Thao...she should have been told, I’m sorry to hear the message never reached her. I have nothing against her.” Picking some dirt from under a nail, Amelia shrugs. “I was approached by a merchant, quite a fancy one too, and not only does he pay more than Thao...he pays up front.”

“Well, business is business,” Anvindr nods sagely.

“Yeah and this guy was good at it. Seth Reed. He originally came for the timber, even brought several carts and men along right off the bat!” It must have impressed Amelia because she seems to be in awe. “When he saw my work, he offered a deal to me and I’d have been stupid not to accept. Both for the money but also to avoid the hassle as any merchant in Stouvania pays through the guild and they’re difficult to work with, honestly.” Then she shrugs again. “He said he’d inform the guild.”

“Mama!” That’s the only intelligible word in the stream of babbles from a small boy that comes trundling over, hugging his mother’s leg as he looks at the strangers.

Bending down, Amelia picks him up. “Hey, Billy baby. Where’s your daddy?”

The kid doesn’t answer, just stares at the three with a finger stuck in his mouth.

“Bill-oh good!” another voice joins, followed by the owner who presumably is mister Manos, clad in the gear of a hunter.

“Got away from you, huh, Frasier?” the tanner smiles softly. But then she grows stern again and turns back to the visitors. “I’m sorry you’ve come all this way for nothing.”

“Not at all,” Zilvra insists, “though I’ll probably be amiss not to ask what Thao would have to pay to regain the good supply.”

Amelia smiles crookedly. “You’re not from around here. Every deal is brokered by the guild, she can’t just decide on her own to price match. And frankly, I’m not sure anyone would meet this new price. But please, tell her I’m sorry she wasn’t notified as she should have been.”

“We’ll do that,” Morella smiles, waving her fingers at the little boy who joyously waves back.

Turning to leave, Amelia stops them by saying: “The merchant...he did tell us not to worry about where the money comes from.”

The trio exchanges glances and especially Zilvra recognizes that phrase as a sign that maybe not all is completely clean about this guy.

“Oh by the way,” Morella asks, “do you happen to have some strips of scrap leather?”

“Uh, sure...”

The friends walk off a bit later with two nice strips that Morella explain they’ll use for the goggles Anvindr is making to secure them on Zilvra’s head.

“Can I just...?” Anvindr asks the two girls, pointing towards the building where the whining and whirring noise is coming from.

Of course they let him. Keeping half an eye on the genasi but 1½ eyes on the surroundings, Zilvra begins to pick up on some details other than the obvious: there’s a row of carts, clearly repurposed and with a surprisingly narrow wheelbase...narrow enough to fit the tracks that led through the forest by the vineyard in Heartwell Shire. These must be the wagons Amelia was talking about that had been provided by this Seth Reed guy. And the workers...burly men as would be expected but fiddling more with their tools than anyone used to them would not to mention their strikes with the axes are less clean than the other men’s. And more on one occasion does the drow notice a man trying to pick up something with one hand only to have to resort to two in the end.

“As if they’re used to working with things that can be moved with just one hand,” Morella mumbles, having followed Zilvra’s gaze.

They shut up as Anvindr and the guy from earlier comes over, apparently on friendlier terms now.

“This is Orick Lockett,” the genasi explains with a polite gesture towards the man who must then also be the foreman and owner of the place, “we got to talk and he has a bit of an issue that I’ve promised we could help with.”

“Oh?”

“The lumber mill has a little graveyard out by the lake but visiting it lately has come with a risk, some monster comes and drags people in the water,” Anvindr continues, pointedly ignoring the fact that the women might be miffed that they hadn’t been consulted before accepting the task.

Said girls exchange glances and Zilvra understands that of course they’ll see to it but... “What’s in it for us?” she asks.

Orick has already gotten distracted, gone to help a few of the new men with something so it’s up to Anvindr to explain.

“I get to see the schematics!” he grins excitedly.

Throwing himself into a brief description of what he’d seen in the noisy building, he refers to something called a “saw mill”: a large machinery built a little over five years ago by a bunch of little people, no larger than gnomes, with black leather outfits and masks who seemed to know everything about machines and technology like the kind Anvindr is interested in.

“It took them only four months to come up with it and build it!” he gushes.

“Sounds like you’re a fan of them?” Morella smiles gently.

The blue man nods. “I need to find them...maybe they can help me and my people.”

His gaze grows distant and despite the curiosity, neither of the girls push him on the subject but just get up and allow him to take the lead northeast when he’s back in the real world once more.

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