#in my defense. my gnomes are like fantasy dwarves but scaled down
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GUSTAVO AS EITHER 7 OR 4 PLEAAE
Or both if you want /nf
*finger guns* [pew pew pew]
#answered#pizza tower#gustavo#NO MORE REQUESTS!!! THANK U !!#i love love love that the more i draw this gnome#the more he looks like a lumberjack bear LMAO#in my defense. my gnomes are like fantasy dwarves but scaled down#tiny stocky man <3
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Original Story draft
Playing around in the swords and sorcery fantasy branch realm with this story line. Trying to decide if this needs a huge overhaul and if so what needs to be chopped out. Knowing me, a lot needs to be shredded. LOL
Demon Hunters Campaign/Crystal Guardian Chronicles
Synopsis: Equinox company find themselves taking on a feral child who has an innate magic needed to wield a legendary Crystal weapon forged by the Elder Gods for sealing away demon kind from their world. Demon kind seeks her extermination so the Evil Kings may return to devour the lands of Gyeteras. Equinox must protect the young girl plus find the Tiger’s Eye Scales of Judgment. The magical scales become a double half moon axe capable of stopping hordes of evil from overwhelming their world.
Tiger’s Eye Trail (Temp title)
Sparkles of silver light ricocheted off mismatched buildings slipping in and out of Betlic Jetren’s feverish sight. Glimpses of Clear Brooke River and community flashed between trees like a heart felt greeting. Thick tree trunks of hickory, oak, red maple, and paper birch shaded the wide stone road of Caravan Highway. Betlic ignored alarmed calls from wagon teamsters and outriders moving in the other direction. This stretch of highway was well maintained so underbrush hindering Betlic’s sight was thinning the closer Equinox Company got to the Clear Brooke Station entrance.
The growing clamor tickled his ears with promises of medical aid. Light gusts brought delicious stomach rumbling scents into his sweat, dust, old blood, and beast musk numbed nostrils. Large stable shed complexes full of activity was flashing between trunks. All of Betlic’s remaining focus sharpened on the promise of safety and aide for the remnant of his hunting group.
Familiarity with Clear Brooke Station had Betlic envisioning throngs of gnomes, humans, dwarves, the odd troll, lesser giants, and elves bustling around multitudes of cornicuses with diverse horn configurations and foot types. His ears could hear people shouting, most likely from the open air market surrounding the merchant’s guild. It was the time of day when the market was most crowded. Behind the city loomed the deep shadows of ancient Brackenveil Forest’s mighty towering trees.
Soon long overdue medical care would be had. Better yet Clear Brooke Station was well known to Equinox Company. Betlic hoped their long standing reputation would save their lives. Unusual circumstances, broken contracts, unwanted bartered goods for payment, and time crunches continued plaguing Betlic’s demon hunting team. However, he hoped Equinox’s dubious luck was improving. Having Master Inek Copperwell hire them to escort his cart with Seth Grace and Gillian Stockton’s unconscious bodies inside his wagon was one stroke of much needed luck. If only their luck would hold long enough to get Seth and Gillian back on their feet!
Strands of saturated lentil hair flopped into his eyes. Betlic yanked it out of the way and used his tunic sleeve to swipe away sweat. The motion of his arm resulted in pulling and burning needles through his stitches, leaving him wincing. How was it so hot when the sun had not been up very long? Were his wounds causing this fever? He needed to focus on the road and his surroundings since it was his temporary job. He, Dreng, and Eldwyn only agreed to be cargo guards to get Seth and Gill the help they needed from the witches in Clear Brooke.
Betlic turned his head and felt a fluttering buzz erupt through his skull and sluice down his body like a building wave crashing on a beach. The odd sensation had him swaying in his saddle. Getting light headed was a very bad sign. Almost there. He would hold on as long as needed.
“Ho there! Looks like you’re the group needing emergency aide.” A gnome teamster bellowed from his perch on a massive eight wheeled stock wagon. He and a pair of outriders pulled the twelve ram head heavy drafts to a stop. “Did bandits do this to you and your beasts?”
Refocusing, Betlic noted accumulating guards and outriders were staring and muttering to each other. No doubt they were looking at the sorry sight of the last of Equinox Demon Hunter Company stationed around Inek’s cart or trailing behind. Vallin was on foot pulling along their remaining cornicus mounts. Betlic did not have to look back to know several beasts were stumbling under the rocking motion of huge loads.
Betlic shook his head trying to clear his mind and almost fell off Squirrel’s back as thrums of cold electric current swirled and cascaded the length of his body a second time. Was the man talking to him?
Eldwyn’s mellow voice carried over the jangle of harness, heavy clopping hooves and quadcorn talons. “No. We ran afoul of a demon troop. Equinox Company won the fight at heavy cost. Trying to get to Crone Nelda to deal with the magic taint. We also crossed swords with three bandit groups since leaving Cryslatta. We handed them over to the magistrates in Resin Town and Lofty Oaks respectively.”
Someone yelled, “By the Thrice blasted tree! All know Equinox is the best demon fighting group in the lands, but don’t you think fighting a war troop is a bit extreme?” Must be an elf in the crowd.
“We were lied to about the job we took. We found ourselves under surprise attack and surrounded. You try facing several greater demons determined to get even some time and then say we were being extreme.” Dreng’s guttural voice thundered over the babble of onlookers.
The buzz of many voices began to swell as the news was digested by everyone within hearing range. Anger began to suffuse the babbling swell. Betlic was tired of having to defend his companions. At least when told the truth most caravan owners moved out of the way so they could jog their beasts around the slower wagon trains to reach Clear Brooke quicker. Let his co founders deal with the chatter this round. Betlic simply wanted to be done with this trip and sleep for a week. Not that he would get to slow down before arranging everything his group needed. The idea of a bath and long sleep in a real bed was all he craved.
“We were sent by a concerned outrider. You look to sore need us.” A tanned gnome with her hair in a bun jumped in front of Squirrel reaching for his hackamore nose band. Betlic clung like a bur to Squirrel’s back as the big buckskin shied from being caught.
“Thank you for the offer, Matron. We’re almost there, and short of funds.” Betlic answered once he found his balance.
“What do you think emergency aide means, young man? You won’t make it without us. Your cornicuses are bad injured and failing. They need to be brought in and tended. We will get you into town. You need the witches because you’re about to fall out of your saddle.” The older woman chastised him in a fearful voice. Betlic struggled to remain focused.
“Infuriating to hear, but all too true. In our defense, Equinox has never had thirty companions and half our combat trained mounts killed in a single fight before now, Ma’am. The Overseer Guild in Cryslatta mistook a war troop of sixty odd demons for a nest. To the best of my knowledge, such has never before happened.” Several knife and low horn riders were clustering around them, intent to hear the tale, growing anger suffusing their faces. “Then the guild refused to make good on the outstanding debt after failing to give us accurate information. Never mind their idea of a healing guild which denies magical taint exists so we lost even more of our number while getting stripped of our funds.”
Eldwyn’s voice interrupted Betlic before he could vent more of his simmering ire. “Ignore Betlic’s sharp tongue, good people. He looks like a poorly sewn patchwork quilt under his clothes and maille. Master Inek Copperwell is helping us get our worst wounded to Clear Brooke before they die of demon taint. So please forgive him any cruel tones this morning.”
“Let them take your over burdened animals and gent Vallin in. All know your reputation, Mister Jetren. Equinox Demon Hunter Company keeps it’s word and all who know you will vouch for you.” One of the outriders yelled.
Betlic argued “we’re tight of purse at this time. We are without choice but to move forward with what strength we have left. I’ll not incur debts I cannot be certain of repaying promptly.”
The big buckskin tricorn lurched around the gnome woman still trying to grab his nose band or reins and pitched into a jog toward the city despite heavy billowing sides.
“Stop, Betlic. Our beasts are failing. They can’t finish the distance.” Eldwyn yelled at his back.
Betlic pulled on Squirrel’s reins. A deep groan bordering an offended whistle pulsed through Squirrel’s triad of horns as he slowed to a walk but refused to stop. A hard shake of the buckskin’s head rattled his ridge bones beneath thick cream hide.
“Looking forward to a big bin of ground meat and diced vegetable aren’t you, Squirrel?” Betlic gave his mount an affectionate rub above a seeping gash on the animal’s shoulder. Squirrel’s long ears wagged back and forth. Using brute in his good arm, Betlic tried to swing Squirrel back around to face his group.Tired as Squirrel was he knew their location and was eager to arrive. “You need more patience. We can’t abandon our team.”
Needle sharp throbs of pain tore along his torso as Betlic's arm lifted so he could use his tunic sleeve to mop runnels of sweat from his eyes. His vision wavered again. Blinking rapidly to clear his sight, Betlic wondered whether grand master wizard Aulon would still send funds if Seth died. Would the protection oath ever be given by Aulon to new members of Equinox? Could Equinox even recover from this insidious blunder?
Squirrel jerking to a stop managed to almost topple Betlic from his saddle yet again. “Bet, yer not a’right. Squirrel’s taking ya fer a ride. T’others dun stop’d.” Lance’s voice chided. Three long and wicked sharp horns growing out of Hobb’s dark brown forehead and face were too close to his own as Lance’s tricorn blocked their path. “Ven’m dun gett’n ya. Fev’r gett’n worse.”
Leathery pitted skin, shocking blue eyes, and shaggy molasses hair. A very familiar looking long knife and sword sheath pair strapped to opposing hips swam into focus. Sheathed daggers strapped to biceps and forearms gave silent warning to avoid conflict. More throwing knives, darts, slim throwing axes on each side, and bolts for a Brownie sized crossbow which was palm sized for a man were confined in neat rows down the length of matching bandoleer straps hanging from each shoulder to opposing hip. Two cases of arrows for a full crossbow and a recurve bow hung off the saddle pommel. Such a deadly rogue. Betlic blinked faster. It was Lance Bullard he was facing alright.
“Sorry. Need to get things done as soon as we arrive.” Betlic responded when his eyes registered Lance waving a hand inches from his nose. “I’ll be fine, Lance.”
Lance snorted. “No ya won’. Yer see’n de witches firs’ thing. Beauty n Velvet ‘er down. Lightfoot’s bad too. Figg’r Drum ’ead ‘n Cast’way’s near ’s bad. Firebran’ gun’ drop ina minute. Eld, Dreng, ‘n Val’s mov’n der packs.”
“Shit. We can’t afford the stop.” Betlic squeezed his eyes shut and gulped air to try and stop the spinning sensation.
“Yer sick, Bet.” Lance growled. “Yer blotchy wit fev’r. Way yer sway’n, yer gun’a fall off Squir’l soon. Yer push’n too ‘ard.”
“Your fringe’s too fast to follow. Tells me you’re in a panic. Seems I've made too many bad calls. My stupidity got most of our company killed.” Betlic gripped his saddle pommel and eased back onto the two saddle rigs tied together and lashed on the back of his own. He hoped the new position would counter his increasing lightheadedness.
Lance heaved a disgusted sounding sigh. “M tak’n lead. Yer doin' de bes’ ye can widda bad mess. Eld got at bad job. As to de talk, mos’ de old tim’rs dead is wha’ gots me shook, Bet. Know’d ‘em since I join’d. Ev’n Seth ‘n Gill’s dyin' slow. De was all tuff as you ‘n me. Don’ seem righ’.”
Lance’s rapid fire garble was still sorting itself out in Betlic’s mind as Hobb backed up and slid along Squirrel’s side. Betlic felt his reins getting yanked from his grasp. “New blood dyin’s nutt’n. But de old fight’rs? A’s summin’ differnt. I got ya, Bet. Jes hang on yer rig, n I’ll keep ya steady.”
Dreng’s deep rasp reached Betlic’s ears over the increasing babble of onlookers. “Watch it, man. Bad enough I feel like a shin guard standing next to you. You don’t need to stomp me into these paving stones while I’m trying to loose Beauty’s girth band for you.”
“Sorry, Grump. Can’t see you . . . round the rigs. Not my fault . . . your so short.” Vallin’s response was breathy and panting.
“Oh sure, pick on the dwarf why don’t you? You giants need to learn how to look down.” Dreng always grumbled when distressed. Betlic’s ears took over. He heard a weak wail from two or more horns followed by heavy thudding. “By the blazing forge, who else is going to keel over in the middle of the road? Firebrand, on your feet! Get up so I can get the saddles off you and put you in the beast wagon.”
A fiery hued chestnut tricorn with his top horns and mid nose knife stuck halfway through a pasty demon’s upper body, dual hooves pulled back to free long talon pairs for slashing the demon’s grasping arms. Firebrand’s fangs were snapping at the demon’s stomach.
Kuruk was whirling his basket hilt claymore as fast as it could be swung along both of Firebrand’s sides to maim and kill any demons he could reach. No matter how fast he moved his blade, he was being overwhelmed. Three more demons were closing from the rear as Firebrand’s whip tail cracked and lashed. A furry, feline were beast resembling demon leapt over the slashing bony flat tip of the cornicus’s tail and landed on the top of Firebrand’s rump. Betlic caught a glimpse of the demon sinking black fangs into Kuruk’s thigh, claws digging into his chest and waist, thick hind legs bulging to leap off Firebrand’s haunches. Squirrel could not disengage with the demons they were fighting. Betlic felt white hot embers slide down his back and across his side as his own hand and half pair of blades met considerable resistance. Scalding heat seeped into his leather breeches. Another demon down.
“I’ve got him.” Vallin’s straining voice drew Betlic’s attention. Considering how muscular and tall Vallin Skorr was he could probably pick the injured tricorn off the ground. Though it was likely Firebrand would lift his dual hollow hoof sheaths and rake him with lethal talons over the attempt. At least Vallin could pick Firebrand up if the beast cooperated and he removed his mace and deck cleaner axe. “Eld, get Lightfoot and Thunderhead’s saddles loose. I’ll be there in a minute to fetch their packs to load.”
“Sure thing, Val.”
Dreng slapped his booted foot to get his attention. “Betlic, take Lance, Kite, Katinka, and Marcus with Master Inek into Clear Brooke to get Seth, Gill, and yourself treated. I’ll handle things here with Val and Ears help.”
A shout from the rear which sounded like Marcus had Betlic turning his head back toward the disaster behind them. “Watch out for that strawberry dappled roan quad heading this way. He’s unpredictable and might attack you beast carters. Now that his Templar’s dead, Rhapsody won’t let any of us near him. Wrath and I will deflect him.”
“Stay back. Let Vallin, Dreng, and myself handle getting Beauty, Velvet, and Firebrand in that contraption. I will deflect Rhapsody if he charges.” Eldwyn also bellowed.
“If he charges he’ll break his forelegs in that tattered mess of rags hanging from his breast band and saddle cinches.” The woman from before was arguing.
Betlic’s mind tossed the image of Rhapsody’s torn up metal chest band harness to the forefront of his memory. Half the chain linkage padding was torn from the thick metal links. Covered in old blood and trailing near the ground between Rhapsody’s fore legs. The fluttering fabric was catching on some of Rhapsody’s shin claws to make the big predator stumble. Impatient fangs and his lower jaw blades made short work of tearing the heavy fabric free from pressure pulled claws. Four horns resonated a chest deep growl as Rhapsody tore the remaining metal link protection loose. Straightening up, the chain lengths caught the edge of torn flesh and ripped another chunk of Rhapsody’s hide and muscle loose.
“I have enough magic to deal with Rhapsody if he gets surly, Marcus. I can still build barriers that he isn’t immune to.” Eldwyn’s voice drew Betlic’s mind back again. “Get Seth, Bet, and Gill into town, Inek. Go with them, Marcus.”
“Sound plan. Bet sore needs medical attention. He’s losing focus due to high wound fever. Take the twins. We’ll get these mounts sorted out.” Dreng was rumbling next to his leg.
“S’why I got ‘im.” Lance said.
Squirrel groaned through his three horns and shook his whole body which jarred Betlic’s stitches and balance. He gave his restless mount a couple affectionate slaps on the bony ridge crest even as pain scalded his senses. The buckskin had worrisome chest injuries which Betlic knew were hurting. His own bandaged torso, shoulder, lower back, and legs throbbed plus burned in a staccato beat.
Although Squirrel’s natural plating prevented deadly organ wounds, carrying weight with a slashed up chest had to hurt. The padded links of Squirrel’s own chest harness was abrading rows of claw marks last Betlic checked.
“Bet, can you make it or are your wits too addled by fever to function?” Dreng’s rumbling snapped Betlic’s eyes down to his friend and partner.
“Everyone was butchered because I noticed the danger too late, Dreng. I got too many of our friends killed.”
“Bordering delirious I see. Damned head is harder than a forge anvil today. Stayed level headed through the fight. Anyone else would have panicked and we’d all be dead right now.”
“Yeah right. I should have. . .”
“Stop with the should haves. They don’t matter. Things are grim and we all know it. We’ve a strong reputation at Clear Brooke and many a favor owed which we can collect. What we fail to sell to cover expenses can be made up soon enough by a fast courier bringing us the coin we need to settle accounts. Running Stag’s bill and the healer fees for all of us will get worked out, Bet. I swear it. Master Inek offered to cover our meals, laundry, and baths while he’s here.”
“You know best how to bargain, Dreng. Hope they don’t need to kill Rhapsody”
Dreng shook his head which made his shoulder length, mahogany braided mane slide like a pendulum. “Once your mind’s clear, we’ll talk. The gnomes will catch and cure Rhapsody, Betlic. We won’t fail him or Cliff’s memory. Get yourself, Seth, and Gill to the witches. Long Ears can keep Rhapsody calm enough until we reach Clear Brooke.”
“They’ll kill him because he’s acting so crazed. He’s hurting.”
“We’ll save him. We may have to muzzle him and boot his claws to manage it, but we will get Rhapsody home to Grace Manor, Bet.”
“The temple will enslave him again once we reach Prosperity. A shame because Rhapsody is one of the finest war steeds in Gyeteras.” Betlic felt his throat tighten as he spoke.
“We’ll face it when the time comes, Bet.” Dreng announced with steel underlying his words. “Focus on getting to the witches. I’ll take care of our mounts since you aren’t in any shape to do much right now. Whatever I don’t get done, Ears will finish.”
“Fine. I’ll see Seth and Gill bedded down in Running Stag, and the witches called. You handle the parcel selling and mount care. I’ll send a message to Aulon. We’ll get done faster if we divide the labor.”
Dreng shot Lance a concerned glare which spoke volumes Bet could not decipher. His shoulders rose and fell. “Hickory Haven for our meeting place?”
“Soun’ plan.” Lance gave a sharp nod.
Dreng slapped Squirrel’s shoulder. “Get him to town in one piece.”
Squirrel was moving so Betlic called over his shoulder, “See you at the tavern.”
“Save us a table at the Haven.” Vallin called as Hobb sidled Squirrel up to Maple’s nose. Betlic trusted Squirrel would stay with the massive draft without him having to interfere. So long as Marcus and Lance stayed close to do the actual guarding, Betlic could sort out a plan of action to keep Equinox’s honor intact.
Rough timbered long houses came abreast of their group as the trees vanished to grant access to town. Several hitching posts in front of the long houses were already half filled. Hickory Haven Tavern served hundreds per meal rush each day as best Betlic could recall. Hickory Haven was the main meal stop for most caravans for midday meal before pushing onward to Castle Ring. Or they got so far as Apple Grove Station if they left early enough. The tavern was the closest to the stone paved highway, and therefore the most convenient. Troughs and hitching posts stood five rows deep before the complex. It boasted of being the largest eating establishment outside of major metropolitan areas.
Blurring eyes made out two tall roofs which served as kitchens. Famed pit ovens and outdoor grills were protected by sturdy, sloping verandas nestled between the two kitchen buildings. Aromatic smoke coiled and whirled on a soft breeze. His stomach clenched from a whiff of roasting venison. Verandas also connected the other buildings together so that inclement weather did not spoil anyone’s meal. Serving staff were scurrying back and forth between the pit and grills, plus the kitchens. Most were laden with large trays stacked high with food, pitchers, and tankards.
The largest pair of split log long houses beckoned. A smaller building set back to the side was reserved for traders and merchants who wished to eat separate from mercenaries and guards. Best of all, Hickory Haven had a decent sized bathhouse attachment replete with private laundry service and changing quarters around back. The only establishment on the highway where travelers got a hot bath plus their clothes cleaned.
Master Inek seemed eager to reach their destination. He clucked to increase Maple’s pace. The trader would likely wish to push onward after a hot meal. If so, Betlic would forgo the bath so he could place Seth and Gill under the witches care.
Sending word to Aulon that Seth was stuck in Clear Brooke Station and needed funds came hard second. Push come to shove, Betlic could eat a meat pie in the saddle. It was possible that Dreng could arrange a storage space so that Seth and Gill could bring the tack, seeds, and farming tools home at a later date.
“Master Inek, do we head out after midday meal?”
Inek side eyed him with a deep frown. With a sweep of his hand in the direction of the long beast sheds on the other side of the entry lane. “Cornicus Master Uric Hawthorne will be furious if I don’t bring Maple in for an overnight visit. You’re in need of a break, and the witches care as well, Betlic. So Maple and I will stay put. We’re well ahead of my delivery schedule so you can get some rest and take care of your group. I’ll get the nagas quartered in Evergreen Stable for up to three days. They are in sturdy cages so Thorne won’t bicker too much about it.”
Betlic cocked his head as he looked up at the dark haired trader in his rich turquoise tunic and chocolate leather breeches. “Did not know you were on friendly terms with the Evergreen Stable Master. We usually work with Rook Ardith since most of our cornicuses come from his ranch and stable.”
“I’ve known Hawthorne since we were both clumsy youths. Maple here comes from Hawthorne’s elite heavy draft breeding program.” Inek boasted.
“A valuable beast then.” Betlic answered, trying to keep his mind focused.
“Indeed she is. Master Hawthorne breeds the finest beasts for long hauling without suffering joint fatigue syndrome. As I’m sure you noticed with how long Maple has continued to high step along despite the heavy cart she’s pulling.”
“So your mare came from his pasture lots? They say he demands a one time breeding right out of each sale. Does he truly do such?” Marcus butted into their conversation.
A side glance at the knight had Betlic lifting an eyebrow. Marcus wiggled his with a sly grin. Perhaps he had also picked up on Inek’s penchant for lecturing, fawning, or bragging so was distracting the merchant.
Master Inek was prattling away. “He does demand a spawn if the beast sold is from his elite stock. When Maple reaches ten I’ll need to pasture her for a year since she is one of his elites. Thorne and I go back a long ways as I was saying, Sir Marcus. I used to be a rein man on one one of my parents wagons. They ran nine wagons in the string. Hawthorne and I would sit in the tack shed and eat together every time my family wagons came in for the night. Hence I could buy this mare. Maple is one of the finest trained draft rams on the highways, and Hawthorne wouldn’t have sold her except she took a shine to me. You can’t go wrong with a draft ram from Beast and Stable Master Uric Hawthorne’s breeding program.”
Marcus responded, “If one has the funds to spare, the finest stock can be bought during the fairs. Most of our mounts come from the stock yards here. Most of our longest lasting mounts are Ardith Ranch trained.”
“I believe it. Your mounts have excellent conformation and heart, despite being injured. They kept a brisk pace even with terrible wounds sapping their strength. Only a truly fine trained and well bred cornicus can do such. Ardith does have the best reputation for training fighting stock from all four breeds.” Inek said. “Your quadcorn war steed is well behaved considering everything. Ardith has a knack with quadcorns. Or so I’ve heard tell.”
“Wrath was foaled in the Borderlands. Lord Garth’s breeding program before he was murdered by the treacherous Duke Bryce. So my war steed is older and well settled with me. Given time and a good partner, young Rhapsody should likewise mellow.”
“I’m not familiar with the Borderlands or Fringe cornicus breeders. Too dangerous for such as myself to ply trade out there. Need too many guards to make it worth the effort. Only twenty plus wagons in a train can expect to scratch out a profit. But I will say Wrath is impressive. He’s the largest quad I’ve ever seen.”
“Since joining Equinox, I’ve come to appreciate the Clear Brooke gnomes reputation for breeding tough fighting mounts. The quads bred here are longer bodied and not so bulky boned plated as Borderland quads. Wrath’s kin are the largest of the blood because they have to survive demon attacks and still carry riders to safety despite injuries. I noticed our riding injured beasts sits wrong with those we’ve passed on the road. Border and Fringe cornicuses are used to such trials. They are asked to carry burdens out of necessity. So I hope the stable masters here can back their rumored miracle healing as well as any Border man.”
Inek gave a sage nod. “Not just rumor, Sir knight. Hawthorne and his staff are the best beast healers in these parts. I dare say your mounts will benefit from a couple hours of Thorne’s attention. Not to mention he consults the witches as needed. Hawthorne gets help with the worst injured beasts from Crone Hilda or Dame Galiana if he believes a beast will be lost without magic reinforcement.”
Betlic interrupted, “good to know. We often use Rook Ardith’s stable, but I’m willing to try Hawthorne’s. I’ll do my best to arrange for Seth and Gill to have care, then finalize arrangements for our stock. I expect you will wish to continue our trip soon though it may mean changing out our own mounts for rented ones to see you to Prosperity.”
Taking a deep breath, he continued, “It would be nice if we could lodge at Running Stag for two nights to make sure the witches can tend all our wounds so injuries don’t render us useless later. It would grant Dreng time to possibly unload the farm goods to cover our companions and mounts care. We can send for funds to pay for everything. We can get the process started for Seth and Gill to have everything extra shipped to us once they recover enough to travel home.”
“As I said before, already planning on it, Betlic. I stay to visit with Hawthorne whenever I come through here. We can remain a full two or three days to help you settle things if you wish to continue working with me. Your companions both look worse than this morning when Vallin loaded them into the hollow beneath my bench.” Inek explained.
“Thank you. The extra time will allow me to settle things.” Betlic answered as his shoulders began to sag.
Don’t mention it, Betlic. I’d like to help get Equinox Company back on solid ground. I can do some poking around to find buyers for your unwanted farming wares or anything else you and Dreng deem necessary to sell.”
“We cannot thank you enough for caring about our welfare considering Seth’s magic and staff plus Gill’s bow, war hammer, and mace are useless to you, Master Inek.” Marcus replied.
Dreng would be unhappy if Master Inek took over selling their goods. It was a matter of pride to the dwarf that he control the Company’s funds and bartering for supplies. However, Marcus might be onto something equally vital. They might have to convince Dreng to accept aide. Well known traders had more connections than fighting forces.
“Equinox’s demon hunters are respected. Your company has done an excellent job of protecting my freight since we met in Cryslatta. You’ve fought hard despite all your injuries. More importantly you’ve done a great service to all traders and merchants across this land for near a decade.”
“It will take time to find the right people to resume such a task. I fear the demons may get a dangerous toehold again thanks to this last job.” Marcus said.
“Shame you were crippled by nefarious folks.” Inek answered in a quieter tone. “The tale of you getting double crossed spreads far and wide. People are getting angry. Equinox Company has earned everyone’s gratitude on the trade lanes. Sunny Vale is fortunate it perished. Cryslatta will feel many a merchant’s wrath soon enough. Assuming I get this particular shipment to Prosperity under the given schedule, I will take control of my family’s business. Once in control, I plan to move the family warehouses away from Cryslatta’s tax men’s clutches.”
“Sound plan. Sunny Vale’s chief lied to the Overseer Guild about the number of demons according to Cryslatta’s guild. From what we saw during our time there, I doubt the chief lied.” Marcus growled.
“Twas te poor look’n a haml’t. Fig’r de Crys Guil’ stripp’d em o der coin afor de sent out de ‘quest.” Lance added. “So Bet n Grump git seed n plow parts te sell af’er we did de job. De lies ‘n lack o hon’r is bad der.”
“Agreed, Lance. I smell deception same as you. Had we known we were facing a troop, Betlic, Dreng, and Eldwyn would have brought funds enough to hire extra fighters and still done the cleansing despite the community being so poor. We have company funds set aside to hire extra fighters when we learn about demon numbers that high.” Marcus echoed Betlic’s thoughts.
“I’ve heard said that you do charitable cleansings each year. Few mercenary bands would bother since they don’t profit.” Inek swept blue black hair away from his eyes as he spoke.
Betlic responded through clenched teeth. “Demons destroy everything, so cleansings need to be done with or without pay. Greed needs to come second to saving villages. Cryslatta Overseer’s Guild is the new epitome of greed. They forced Sunny Vale’s survivors to part with their seeds and farming equipment. We did not want their last livelihood goods, but the ten survivors have been put in chains anyway. Then the same Guild told us we could not sell anything in their city to add insult to injury.
“Dey was all fer loot’n dat town. Seem’d to be loot’n ever’ body purses round de city. Din’t find a dec’n size meal whole time we’z der.” Lance added.
A nod showed Betlic agreed with Lance. “The poor need not fear Equinox will refuse aid when demons are haunting their fields and streets. They can speak truth and expect aide no matter their situation. The message must become common knowledge for the day when Equinox has filled it’s roster nigh to forty again.”
“Don’t forget that the Overseer’s Guilds in each City Kingdom sets prices, my friends. The Cryslatta Guild most certainly demanded an impossible fortune of them long before the work came to your attention.” Inek added in a grim tone.
Marcus growled, “which is wrong. Perhaps we should ask the temples and holy orders to inform us of villages in need if they cannot afford to post a cleansing job through their Overseer’s Guild because of a kingdom’s increasing greed. People could come to us directly if they are strained of purse.”
“We are fortunate you employed our sorry remnant to get home at all.” Betlic interrupted Marcus’s tirade.
Inek waved off the comment. “Equinox badges are the best deterrent for thieves a man can secure for himself. Even injured as your members be, accosting this cargo cart has already proven deadly,” Inek answered in a conspiratorial tone. “Bandits can’t see bandages beneath clothes and maille, but you’ve done your duty better than most whole mercenaries. Plus your loose war steed has shown his fangs, claws, and talons quick enough to ensure the word’s spreading like wildfire to leave my cart alone.”
Squirrel turned into the largest stable complex’s courtyard alongside Inek’s cart. The trader’s words were true enough, but it galled Betlic that his group’s crossed sword and sorcerer staff over a demon’s skull was reduced to a ploy. As dire as some of their injuries were, their clashes with bandits could have resulted in death. He had no chance to say as much as gnomes, elves, and humans came surging forward to take their mounts.
“Where is Master Hawthorne’s Evergreen?” Inek bellowed which brought various stable hands up short. All the hands who stalled were wearing various blue, yellow, burnt orange, forest green, flame red, oak brown, or crimson dominant tunics. Burnt orange with black trim was Ardith Stable’s colors.
Betlic wavered. He knew Rook’s stable hands and prices. Yet he also owed Inek Copperwell his loyalty since he and Eldwyn accepted the emergency job. Master Inek pushed his poor ram head hard to arrive here for Equinox’s sake.
A weathered faced, bandy legged man with salt and pepper hair stalked into the courtyard with employees wearing silver and grass green tunics following at his heels. With a wave to Inek the man snapped orders and gnomes scattered to obey. The middle aged man walked closer to appraise the animals over which he was to take charge.
“Well I see you brought Maple in for a reunion, Inek.” The middle aged stable master called as he sauntered closer. “It isn’t like you to push her so hard that she’s lathered and her sides heaving like this. Your guards look like they’ve near killed their mounts defending your cargo.”
“We’ve two badly injured men laying beneath my bench seat, Thorne. A string of injured cornicuses are being brought in by foot and a beast wagon. They belong to my acquaintances here. They sore need your medical expertise. I believe you’re best able to handle demon tainted wounds.”
“What happened?” Hawthorne demanded as Inek climbed down the ladder steps he rolled out of his cart. Betlic also swung off Squirrel’s back to cling to the saddle until his head stopped spinning. Lance had a hand between his shoulder blades until he steadied. Lance crowded Betlic’s periphery as he shuffled over to Inek and Evergreen’s Stable Master.
He started evaluating the man who would take care of Equinox’s beasts. Master Hawthorne was perhaps five foot three inches, a big man for the gnome race. His longish face and deep set craggy features did not hide shrewd and concerned glints flashing in the depths of red spoked yellow eyes.
“Captain Betlic Jetren, Lance Bullard, and Sir Marcus Farcrest of Equinox Demon Hunters Company meet Beast and Stable Master Uric Hawthorne of Evergreen Stables.” Inek intoned with a hand flourish.
Hawthorne’s brows beetled as looked up at Betlic and his companions. “Rumors claim Equinox was butchered by a nest of demons. Some say Equinox is done for. But I recognize you three well enough. Same with your cornicuses. Seen them in Rook’s stalls many a times.”
Marcus growled, “try a war troop of sixty odd demons led by several greater demons and your rumors would be true. Equinox Company routed and slaughtered the troop, but paid a heavy price in the doing.”
Inek placed a hand on Hawthorne’s broad shoulder. “Old friend, their beasts have demon tainted wounds, and are in need of a true expert healer. Nineteen bad wounded cornicuses with more heart than I’ve ever witnessed outside of Maple’s. Pressing hard and fast to reach here was the only option Equinox has after enduring the unsavory business that befell them in Cryslatta. These men are proof that heart still drives Equinox. They will rebuild and keep their oaths to save lives.”
Hawthorne heaved a sigh and nodded. He pivoted on his heels and bellowed at his employees, “Get these cornicuses unsaddled and blanketed. Cool them down slow and easy. Get nineteen stalls prepped for emergency wound care. We need long shaft canvas cots to move two severely injured warriors. Move it.”
Betlic put a hand on Marcus’s shoulder to bring him back to a calmer state. “Please forgive our foul moods. We lost dear comrades, and many fine beasts because of lies.”
Hawthorne shoved his index fingers of each hand through belt loops on either side of his waist, and rocked back on his heels. “Wish I could say you were the first having such problems. Cryslatta Kingdom has gone to rot of late.”
As Hawthorne spoke a small gnome girl reached for Squirrel’s reins. She crooned as Squirrel’s long ears swiveled up, down, back, forward, and then down hard against his cheeks. “Go on, Squirrel. Let them take care of you.” The tricorn gave a short horn growl before obeying the unfamiliar stable worker.
Wrath’s talons were digging into the ground and near yanking his stable hand off his feet to get inside the stable. Epoch, Ginger, and Hobb were moving at slower paces without a fuss.
“Can we get my cart unloaded. I’ve got a live shipment this round, and two near dead men to get to the healers.”
“Yes. But I would like to know what exotic pets your moving before my stable hands go near your cart. Well, Inek?”
“Not pets. Guardian Nagas some sea faring ship captains hired for treasure escort.” Inek protested.
“Only you, Inek.” Hawthorne shook his head. “Saul, Mica, Ox! Get the cage lift and clear space in the second harness room for venomous exotics. Meet me at the North Wall.” Hawthorne gave Maple’s halter a light tug and the lumbering beast began to follow. “Lets get Maple’s cart situated where I can keep an eye on it easier.”
“Thank you, Thorne.” Inek breathed.
“Let us unload Seth and Gill before you take the cart.” Betlic stepped in the way.
“We’ll unload them, Betlic. You’re ready to drop.” Marcus growled as his palm slammed into Betlic’s chest.
“E’s right. Yer wobbl’n so migh’ drop ‘em.” Lance urged.
Rook Ardith startled Betlic by gripping his elbow. “By all the Gods of light it’s good to see you alive, Betlic!”
“We’re with Master Inek this time or I would have called for you, Rook.” Betlic felt compelled to explain.
“I’ll do what I can to help Thorne. You don’t need to worry about it. Most of your stock comes from my pastures and schooling so we will help no matter which stable holds them.” Rook’s lime and gray eyes searched his face. “You look ready to drop, man.”
Betlic turned to watch Lance and Marcus unload Seth as gently as possible. By the time they were out of the wagon the first time, two unrolled canvas carry cots were in place to rest Seth and Gillian’s bodies.
“No nest could have done this much damage to any of you!” Rook snarled as he bent over Seth.
“We were caught unaware by a full demon troop led by five greater immortal demons. Got surrounded and cut to pieces, Rook.” Betlic responded by rote.
“So I heard Marcus bellowing. Foul deeds are happening in Cryslatta these days, Betlic. It wounds my heart to see you ran afoul of the misbegotten curs now in command of that kingdom.”
One of the stable hands came to take Maple around the side of the stables so her cart could be unloaded once Lance and Marcus got Gillian onto the second stretcher.
“I’ll help get them to the witches.” Rook offered as he clasped onto Betlic’s arm even tighter.
A familiar voice cut through the air. “Slow down, Obstinate. Your going to yank Scrapper and Shadow Stalker off their feet you loony fool.”
Hawthorne headed toward the limping beasts. Eldwyn was sitting on the seat beside the team handler instead of riding Breeze. Headbutt was trotting beside Vallin with Dreng in his saddle.
The beast master held himself rigid as he watched the animals bumble closer. As Vallin reached their group, Hawthorne called his employees to take over unloading the beast wagon and walking each cornicus past him. Hawthorne scratched his chin as he appraised their injuries. The stable master’s owlish red spoked yellow eyes missed nothing, going so far as to measure how wide some of the wounds were with splayed hands. He poked his head into the front hatch of the beast hauler for several moments.
Hawthorne returned from his examination.“Some may die no matter all my skill or any others, Mister Jetren. The poison looks to have run deep in the four downed in the wagon. You will lose at least three. They were hit quite hard by foul magic, claws, and fangs it looks like.”
“Indeed. We buried most of our magic users, and fighters who rode them on the old consecrated hill overlooking Sunny Vale while the others tried to reach the medical guild in Cryslatta.” Dreng rasped. “Good to see you, Rook.”
Rook’s hawkish nose lifted as his head tilted at an angle. “Glad you’re still breathing, Dreng. I’m assisting Beast Master Hawthorne here with your animals. It’ll take two stables worth of hands and expertise to put these cornicuses back together. Even pooling our skills, Thorne’s right about some being too far gone.”
“We’re low on funds, Rook. Unless we can get in touch with Aulon and he fast couriers coin, we’re going to have to sell enough excess equipment to afford their care.” Dreng rumbled as he dismounted from Headbutt.
“Muzzle it, old friend.” Rook answered as he clasped Dreng’s forearm. “I know your beasts as well as my kin. Raised and trained almost all of them over the years.”
“Fair. We are deeply shamed over them looking such a sorry mess, Rook.”
“Hard won victories are messy, Dreng.”
Dreng held out his hand, palm facing the sky toward Master Hawthorne. “What say you we discuss the price of getting these poor steeds proper treatment? Names Dreng Ironclasp.”
Hawthorne nodded and gripped Dreng’s meaty forearm. “Beast Master Uric Hawthorne, but my friends all call me Thorne. I’ll give you a good bargain since Rook’s determined to help, Mister Dreng. Never fear Evergreen would gouge your purse. If even a fraction of the new rumors racing along this stretch of road are true, your men were sore cheated and abused by the Guilds in Cryslatta. The adventurers will no doubt make the city’s guilds wish they had done their duty by you once the truth circulates.”
Dreng nodded his assent. “By the beard of the first smith I’ll not deny it. Dreng’s fine, Thorne. Be there any farms around these parts looking for tools of their trade?”
Hawthorne blinked, brows furrowing as he side eyed Dreng. “We’ve farms a plenty in these parts. They keep Clear Brooke’s many kitchens and stables well supplied. Why do you ask?”
Dreng scratched his short trimmed beard. “In the beast wagon are huge packs which Equinox beasts were unfairly carrying. They contain dismantled farming tools, nuts and bolts to assemble them, and a variety of seeds. Such was the poor payment we were forced to accept. We cannot use any of it. I’d see our mounts rid of the weight when they head for home again. Perhaps your local farmers need or desire plow parts, hoes, rakes, and seeds if there still be time for the planting. I’m willing to haggle. Are you willing to work with me?”
“I’ll send for Squire Lister. She’ll know who needs what right enough. Some farms are still sowing crops around here. Will be for another two weeks best I know.” Hawthorne agreed. “Squire Lister does all the major trade and supply ordering for this area, so she can find homes for your wares if anyone can. With Lister’s help, I will give you fair trade, Dreng.”
“Anything which doesn’t sell to Lister, I can inquire about this evening at Hearth Shield’s main lobby.” Master Inek volunteered. “The open market tomorrow might also prove profitable to move weapons and the rest of your excess.”
“Much obliged to you both.” Dreng responded. He shifted to face their gathering team. “I’ll see to things here. Why haven’t you gotten Gill, Seth, and Betlic into beds so they can be looked after? I’ll meet you in Haven’s first long house for food once I get things sorted here.”
Eldwyn huffed, a look of disbelief loosening his jaw. “You can’t . . .”
Betlic gripped the elf’s shoulder and gave a hard shake to silence Eldwyn. The shocked look downgraded several notches but Eldwyn’s passionflower eyes remained wide. “Want us to send you some breakfast while you’re haggling, Dreng?”
Rook spoke up, “a fine idea, Bet. I’ll get things in order with speed so Squire Lister and her men won’t take up too much of Dreng’s time. I’ve enough stable hands to spare three for unpacking under Dreng’s supervision.”
Eldwyn executed a small hop and twist out from under Betlic’s grip and clapped his hands as he settled eyes on the dour looking dwarf. “Many thanks, Rook, and Beat Master Hawthorne. Let’s get Seth and Gill sorted. Dreng can manage with a good hand and face scrubbing before he eats. We’ll send him a hearty meat pie with trimmings as soon as Vallin can place the order.”
“Be sure to take all our saddlebags with you, Long Ears. Be quicker to get clean when I’m done here.” Dreng snapped the saddle bags off his shoulder and hurled them into Eldwyn’s gut.
“You got it it, Grumpy.” Eldwyn joked as he straightened back to full height.
“Vallin, get us a bathing room. You’ve been loping on and off for days. You deserve first bathing rights. See if they have something to soak your feet. Take the twins with you. They can carry our saddle bags to the bathing rooms.” Betlic suggested as he snatched Dreng’s saddle bags out of Eldwyn’s hands to hand over to Kite. He pulled too thicker silver rods from his pouch and then tossed it to Vallin. “Eldwyn, Marcus, Lance, and I will get Gill and Seth settled at Stag, and send for the healers before joining you.”
Inek lifted a hand as if to argue, but Eldwyn gave him a sharp head shake as they bent their heads closer together and whispered to each other.
“Sound plan.” Vallin croaked in his cavernous voice. “Come along twins. We’ve gear to gather.”
Instead of obeying Vallin, Katinka tapped Betlic’s arm. “Bet, don’t forget Rhapsody. Shall I bespell him to be caught easier?”
He glared down at the girl. “First of all, only sworn companions of at least three years get to use my nickname. Secondly; Vallin already has a job for you to complete. So why aren’t you following mine and Vallin’s orders, young lady?”
“I’ve got spell training. And Rhapsody’s dangerous enough to need me to offer my magic to help stop him.” Katinka snapped.
“You aren’t capable of undoing the necessary spells, you little fool. Furthermore you accepted Seth’s offer of training. Your acceptance makes you an Equinox recruit. So do your part and help Kite with the saddle bags.”
One of the Evergreen stable hands stopped beside them. “If you’ve a mount gone feral, Cleric Sedric can catch them for you.”
“Get a grasp on that strawberry dapple roan quadcorn’s hackamore to strip his war saddle to doctor his wounds, and Equinox will be eternally grateful. He’s bespelled by the Justice Templars of Prosperity. You’ll need a cleric familiar with the Order’s spells to undo the enslavement.” Betlic explained.
“If you have the Knight’s amulet, Holy Sedric can work the needed magic. We’ll catch your war steed quick as a blink,” the youthful gnome promised.
“Now there’s a show I’d love to stay and watch.” Eldwyn’s laughing voice merged with a light elbow to Betlic’s injured side.
“Let’s hope Rhapsody doesn’t kill anyone because he’s crazed by pain.” Betlic grumbled as he reached into his jerkin’s inner pocket and withdrew Sir Cliffton’s holy badge. “Will this do?
“Yes, Sedric should be able to make the proper link with this.” The stable boy snatched the necklace and raced around the stable building.
An older stable hand shaking her head stepped closer. “We’ve plenty of experience catching half feral war steeds without partners. I recognize the strawberry dappled bleeding mess near the beast wagon. With Master Rook and Holy Sedric’s help, he will be caught and doctored by midday.”
“Thank you. Rhapsody has saved all of our lives on many occasions. Failing to aide a member of Equinox is breaking our oaths to each another.” Eldwyn spoke while shoving Headbutt’s reins in her hands.
The gnome girl looked dumbfounded as she led the spiral horned pacer into the stables. Dreng was back at the wagon directing a pair of brawny humans to remove the heavy packs and saddles from the beast wagon and stow them into a pair of two wheeled barrows.
Hawthorne was working with three other men and a wheeled contraption involving a net sling to get their fallen animals out. Lightfoot was hanging in the netting. The three men pulled the hoist backwards and began rolling it to the stable doors.
“Let’s get out of their way.” Betlic said while bending over to grab the handles of Seth’s cot.
Rook pushed him aside and grabbed the handles. “Enclave or Stag? You lead the way and we’ll bring the cots, Betlic.”
“Sound plan.” Lance grabbed the other end and with a nod he and Rook lifted at the same speed.
“Stag. It’s closer.” Eldwyn answered as he and Marcus picked up Gillian’s stretcher. With Betlic leading, they wove between buildings to avoid most of the heavy foot traffic. Jaw clenching against intermittent dizziness, Betlic hurried toward the Running Stag Inn.
Although the place resembled a military barracks due to the number of men and women who needed beds each night, Running Stag was divided into rooms housing side by side beds, or different sets of bunks for each room. Some bunk rooms had as many as fourteen beds stacked along both walls. Others had as few as four to six stacked beds. Stag featured a male wing and a female bunk wing.
As they reached the stairs, Matron Matilda Everard pushed open the double doors with help from her youngest son Riley.
“Thank the Elder Gods own light you’re alive, Betlic.” The round cheeked gnome woman gushed while looking around him to see who followed in his wake. “Oh dear me, get the wounded into room six. I’ll send for the witches.” The older woman dry rung her hands on top of her apron. “Clover, fetch linen protectors to room six.”
Matilda’s slender nutmeg haired daughter leapt from behind the counter, yanking two bundles off the long shelves at her back, keys jingling in her apron pocket as she fled down the hall.
“We’re on tight funds this time, Matty. We’ll take one of your ten man bunk quarters if you have any open.”
“Bunk quarters will make it harder to care for your injured, Betlic. They will go in room six unless the Witches decide they need to be housed at the Enclave. Don’t argue.” The portly gnome’s jaw jutted forward as she glared up at him with a pointed finger ready to jab him in the abdomen.
Eldwyn intervened before he could challenge her decision. “We would appreciate it if Riley would request a witch who knows diverse demon venoms, Matty. Cryslatta’s healer guild has naught but pompous wind bags spouting nonsense. They killed several of us before we understood we wasted a fortune trying to save our own lives. We moved fast as possible to get here before the taint kills Gillian and Seth. Betlic’s bad off too. We hope we aren’t already too late.”
Matilda slapped her palms together, “Riley, fetch Crone Nelda. Tell her to bring all her demon cures with her. It’s a dire emergency.” She grabbed the second massive key ring off the side hooks attached to the counter and hurried down the hall before them. “How many do you still need to house beyond Gill and Seth?” Matilda side eyed Eldwyn as she spoke.
“Six more companions total and two recruits. So eight beyond Seth and Gill. One is Vallin. We brought a teen aged orphan girl and her twin brother.” Eldwyn answered as he followed her into the Stag with Gillian’s cot.
“Heard tell all of you were dead three days past. Word is that the Cryslatta Healer’s Hall was shipping out the last of you for burn rites. Fools were claiming Equinox got eradicated by a demon nest. Sounded queer to me since you’ve not lost to a dozen or so demons since nine years past before you got enough magic users signed on.” The buxom woman hustled behind Clover to swing room six’s door wide.
Betlic replied. “We will need time to find new members. If Seth lives, he will have to forge new mage groups into tight teams.”
“Magic flingers are competitive, Betlic. I’ll put Vallin up at Hailwick’s place. They have beds his size seeing as they cater to giants.” Matron Matilda motioned the group into the room.
Betlic had no idea how much coin and rods Dreng would bring in, or whether Aulon could get funds shipped to Clear Brooke with Prosperity’s morning couriers. It felt wrong to ask for special accommodations considering how strapped their funds were at the moment. A side by side bed arrangement was a greater silver rod and two greater silver coins per night. An eight man bunk room was three silver rods and a lesser gold coin per night. To house Vallin was a lesser gold rod and five greater silver coins per night. Even assuming Aulon would go to Grace Manor and collect the funds, it would take at least three to four days by chain stabled cornicus runners for the sum to arrive.
Matilda poked him hard enough he doubled up from pain. “Muzzle your pride, Betlic Jetren. I know you’re good for the funds so I will cover any tabs for you. Bring me the balance whenever you come this way again. Including Hailwick’s fees. The girl you brought can bunk with you in room ten since it has enough beds. Or I’ve got a trundle cot I’ll put in here if you’d rather she keep watch over Seth and Gill which is covered in the rules. You run a tight outfit and always have, so I’ll not worry about her in Equinox quarters.”
“Thanks, Matty. We’re humbled by your good faith. She can sleep in a bunk room with us.” Eldwyn inserted as he passed into the room bearing the head of Gill’s stretcher with Marcus bringing up the rear.
“You were just here with nigh on forty men and women wearing your colors and badge. Your misfortune is one of the foulest things I’ve ever heard tell. Honored Seth might as well be dressed in a blood soaked death shroud. Gill don’t look much better. I’ve no doubt you lot are bandaged under your clothes by the pain on your faces. I see you come through here several times a year injured. But you, Betlic, look the worst. Should put you in here with Seth and Gill on a trundle.”
Rook and Lance settled Seth onto the other bed as Betlic shrugged his broad shoulders and fought down a wince. “I’ll be fine in the bunk room, Matty. Got a lot to get done today so we can pay our accounts off sooner instead of later.”
Rook shook his shaggy head. “You need a bed, Betlic. Eld and Dreng look alert enough to handle things. Trust them.”
Marcus chuckled as he straightened from helping settle Gill. “You know us well, Widow Matty. Same with you, Rook. We sent Vallin to reserve a bathing room at Hickory. Master Inek insists on covering our meals, baths, and our laundry. Once we’re cleaned up, we’ll tend each other’s wounds and eat on our employer’s tab.”
“I was going to send Wulfgar to open tavern tabs for you. So tell me, where’s the sourpuss?” Matron Matilda demanded as she gripped Eldwyn’s sleeve.
“No need for a tab, Matty.” Marcus said. “But, we thank you all the same.”
“Dreng’s with Beast Master Hawthorne bartering farming goods we got stuck with for our clawed up mounts care.” Eldwyn was answering while patting her clenched fist. “Surely you didn’t think demons could kill our favorite grouch?”
Rook stepped close and beckoned Betlic to lean down. “You do know Widow Matty’s sweet on Dreng, don’t you?”
“Everyone knows but Dreng. He can’t see it, Rook.” Bet whispered.
The older cornicus breeder grinned, eyes crinkling with wrinkles. “Why am I not surprised he’s blind, Bet?” He whispered back.
“Never seen a wizard as strong as Honored Seth looking so near dead. Made me wonder if Dreng met a bad end.” Matty pulled back and smoothed her apron down. “Sir Cliffton?”
“Dead on the battlefield, Matty.” Marcus answered.
“Victoria, Handell, and Regina?”
“All ‘em ‘er dead, Wida’. Vallin ‘n Dreng er only ones missin’. De’s fine, jes busy.” Lance answered as he rolled a heavy canvas stretcher around it’s poles for easy carry. “De demons ev’n got Hellion. Ne’er knew I’d see de day she’d die. She wen’ down fight’n. Took ‘er fair share o’ dem’ns wit er.”
Marcus lifted his hand to end Matron Matilda’s interrogation. “Matty, we brought two teenage part trained magic users with us. Seth has decided to train them as a sorcerer and wizardess respectively.”
Matilda swiped her left hand across her face as she absorbed the situation described. “We faced a full war troop led by greater demons and won. The reason Equinox still won is because we’ve gained so much experience fighting nests with well ordered mixed teams. When we arrived at Sunnyvale we were caught between greater demons leading the charge from behind and in front of us. In the end, we killed a full war troop with inferior numbers. Nobody has ever done that before. The only ones not dead are a couple of the greater immortals who managed to escape once Regina and Orva were killed while Seth was drug off Epoch’s back. We found pieces enough to identify Liehdrel, but nobody knows for sure when she got torn apart. We would appreciate it if you would spread the truth to anyone who tells you our company was destroyed by a mere nest of demons, Matty. The truth needs to be shared.”
Matilda shook her head as she bent closer and smoothed back sweat drenched locks from Seth’s brow while contemplating everything revealed.
“Nobody has ever claimed to have killed greater immortals outside old legends. Honor has limits, you fools. Too many died for your lofty ideals.”
Raking his fingers through his thigh length ponytail to pull it across his chest, Eldwyn leaned against the dresser. “Seth, Regina, Liehdrel, Orva, and Abrecan combined forces and did bring down three greater demons. And they were definitely immortals, Matty. The ones to escape were in as bad a shape as Seth and Gill. I’ve never seen so much magic power piggy backed and entwined together to create a single battering ram of force such as I witnessed in Sunnyvale. If we can find more wizards and sorcerers like the ones we lost, we might even turn the tables before demons can slaughter more villages on our side of the borderlands.”
Marcus took up the tale.“He speaks the truth, Widow Matty. I saw the five form a wedge and fight the greater demons while the rest of us fought for our lives against superior numbers. We were surrounded before we understood what was happening. Even if we had known the real numbers in time, none of us can leave helpless villagers to getting tortured and eaten alive. We would have paid extra fighters and still helped Sunnyvale no matter the numbers. Equinox has always put saving lives as our first priority in the Pledge of Companions.”
“We fough’ ‘n won. None ‘zerves at kind a twisted death. Nev’r will let folk die at way if we c’n stop it.” Lance agreed as he took both wound up cloth stretchers in hand.
Matilda shrugged. “Demon hunters see how demons kill first hand. No wonder you survivors become the fiercest yet queerest brained warriors alive. Seems you lot can’t let go the hatreds and heal.”
Lance shook his head. “Twas born in de fringe, near de great’r gates. I seen dem’n kill’n as a yung’n. Can’t ne’er not hear de scream’n when I sleep, Wida.’ Got nuttin’ ta do wit hate. Jes cann’a sleep if’n I don’ try sav’n ‘em all.”
Rook spoke up. “He’s right. One in a hundred survivors become a demon hunter, Matilda. Few survivors can face demons after seeing them kill someone they know.” He pointed out. “It’s why I broadened my training program for fighting cornicuses and diversified into all four breeds instead of only focusing on tricorns and quads. I started breeding knives with the sharpest natural horns I could get my hands on. Started looking for the thickest based low horns I could find for the same reason. What they lack in natural bone armor, they make up for with speed and agility to help keep the magic users alive through evading the worst attacks. I’ve already got the best tricorn and quadcorns around these parts. I’ve redoubled my efforts to get newborn quads gentled enough to fight beside the men and women with guts enough to face demon kind without flinching.”
“I don’t understand, Rook.”
“Equinox’s determination to protect those who cannot hope to save their lives is why I’ve expanded so much over the last ten years. Betlic, Eldwyn, Seth, and Dreng’s starting vision impressed me when I first met them. Their dream isn’t about seeking glory, Matilda. Their objective is ensuring villages don’t continue to vanish from maps. Or get labeled badlands or cursed ground. They were lied to so this massacre is not about pride at all. It is about how much rot is to be found in Cryslatta and how the various Guilds in that kingdom have forsaken all honor. They have forgotten they are separate from the new rulers and their advisors.”
Matilda heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry if I jumped to the wrong conclusion. Let me open bunk room ten and get a trundle rolled in here. I’ll see to it that the witches get to Seth and Gill the moment they arrive. Strip out of your armor as soon as you get in your room, Sir Marcus. No need to wear what’s left of it around town.” Matilda tossed over her shoulder as she headed to the next room.
“Yes, Ma’am,” He answered while following her from the room and deeper into the building’s male wing. Lance headed the opposite direction, toward the front doors with Rook. Eldwyn closed the door behind himself. Betlic leaned against the wall to wait for the witches to arrive.
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Exandria: 1790 (Spoilers)
At the close of episode 36 of campaign 2, the Mistake was confronted with a ship (which purely out of speculation, I’ll refer to as Captain Avantica’s ship.) A fairly well armed ship at that. Given the double masts, and at minimum single row of gun ports, I feel like it’s safe to say that the ship they encountered is at least the size of a classic brig, possibly a smallish frigate. For reference, the Jackdaw from AC: Black Flag is a brig. And it’s probably safe to say that the Mistake, with a single mast and built for speed, is equivalent to a gunship from the above picture. I am absolutely tingling with excitement to see how this plays out in NYC!
But that’s all preamble. Given that the party is encountering cannon bearing brigs and frigates, and a whole host of other technologies from the siege engines of Hupperdook to the foundries of Nicodranas, this all begs a few interesting questions: When are we? Is this all Percy and Ripley’s fault? How far will Exandria progress? I feel that, usually, when people try to tackle these questions, they try to base their answers mostly off of military technology, and that’s not ridiculous by an means, but it leaves out all the sexy and exciting points of architecture, civic infrastructure, and bookkeeping. With these points in mind, I’d like to give my meaningless opinion and hear others.
Firstly, as of the start of S1E1, Exandria was already a post-medieval society.
Second, if I had to put an Earth year date on Exandria, I think it’s safe to say that, as of the start of the second campaign, Exandria is equivalent to roughly the 1790’s to 1810’s.
Third, Exandria will probably never get past an early Victorian level of technology without significant magical or alchemical assistance, unless oil exists.
Some bold claims, let’s talk about them!
PART 1: END OF AN ERA
Since I just threw shade at military technology, let’s use that to establish that this was never a medieval setting. It’s worth mentioning that, as modern understanding of the ‘Dark Ages’ has progressed, D&D and fantasy genre material in general has started to add a little disclaimer to their descriptions of things, usually something along the lines of “Well, it’s really late medieval or renaissance really, and also maaaaagic.” Well we’re going to ignore the hell out of magic. Why? Because it really feels like society in general in Exandria is trying to ignore magic. And given the results of the Age of Arcanum, it’s easy to see why. We all generally ignore the fact that nuclear weapons were used on other humans, and we’re still sitting on a stockpile large enough to end life on Earth. It’s uncomfortable to think about the fact that Caleb could, in a few levels, kill everyone in a settlement like Alfield and still have spell slots left over. So, is/was Exandira a renaissance society?I think it’s safe to say, Exandria was at least late renaissance, bordering on early modern even at the start of campaign one. A couple clear markers show us this. First, military technology! Long after I’m dead, people with Dr. but not that kind of Dr. in their title will argue the exact date that the medieval era ended. I personally like to look at architecture for the watershed moment that ended the medieval era: 1453, the Fall of Constantinople. When Sultan Mehmed II’s bombards destroyed the walls of the city, the era of the castle ended. Black powder and bombard level primitive artillery already existed before Percy introduced the world to flintlock firearms. He was able to walk into an alchemical supply shop and buy a hogshead of black powder in season 1 after all. So the medieval era is over, artillery exists.
Now, people totally kept building castles and classically fortified structures after 1453, but they were rapidly becoming obsolete (they really tried to make it work, like Star Forts) and would soon become follies.While this has enormous impacts on combat, the castle was also central to medieval civil society. And all the day to day things that made it, well, medieval. Without double-entry bookkeeping, it really makes sense to have a single, highly defended repository for records and knowledge. Paper is precious during the medieval era, literacy is limited, and having your records and knowledge protected by a castle made sense. If Lord Bob’s retainers from across the river got drunk and decided to come to town to do some raping and house burning, you don’t want your only book of land deeds in that house. You don’t want the only tax ledger in town to be lost. You want that shit in the keep! Monasteries had walls for a reason, anywhere you wanted to store knowledge needed to be safe from enemies and fire. So the solution was stone walls for both.But once that castle loses its defensive purpose, you begin to slide down the slippery slope to equality! Shocking, right? But it makes sense. Castles also helped with the vertical integration of power. At the top you had God, then below that you had The Body of Christ, his Church on earth, and the nobility, which god has placed there to exact his will upon the world. Below that? Everyone else. And the castle reinforces that system. The nobles are literally up on a hill in their stone tower, and you go give them wheat every harvest, if you want to petition for justice in the case of a crime, or have a dispute settled, you went to the castle, where a lord upon his throne dispensed a ruling. It’s a slow, multifaceted process, but getting rid of castles is part of the march of civil liberties. A few other things that existed as of the start of the campaign:
1. Police! Police are an incredibly modern concept. Yeah, they’re called guards, but they’re police. The first modern police force: 1829.
2. Sewers. It’s safe to assume that Nicodranas’ stone sewer network is not new. While ancient cities often had sanitation infrastructure, complex stone sewers like Nicodranas’ could be compared to London’s initial sewer mega-project, started in 1859. Also, early saltpeter production was mostly from poop. So gunpowder needed poop infrastructure to scale up.
3. Again, double-entry bookkeeping. While double entry was probably invented by Jewish merchants in the Middle ages, it’s proliferation was a major boon to the Reniassance. Medici’s bank likely employed it as of the 14th century.
4. Towers without buttressing. Now, this one is tenuous, I’ll freely admit, but I don’t think any of the tower of Zadash were described as having noticeable or significant buttressing. I’m going to assume that Marquet’s Cerulean Palace was constructed with some kind of magic, and ignore it. If the towers of the Tri-Spire are several hundred feet tall and lack flying buttresses, we’ve progressed beyond that architectural technology to more subtle support structures. We could likely then, compare the three towers in Zadash to Rouen Cathedral, the tallest building in the world in 1876.
5. Nautical Tech: This one is extensive, and I’ll freely admit I don’t know the most about sailing, but while ships in campaign one lacked cannons, they seemed to have square rigged sails and rudders, and if they have airships strong enough to go from air to water, they must have advanced enough in nautical tech to be able to make something like a carrack or galleon.
Given all of this, I’d say that at the start of campaign one, before the whole Percy thing, Exandria was already sitting pretty somewhere in the 1600’s at least, as I could see a world with dwarves and gnomes making advances in masonry, architecture, and city planning a little ahead of Earth. If the deal with Orthax never happened, I could see Exandria progressing from early artillery to wheellock firearms in 50-100 years.
PART 2: WHEN ARE WE NOW?
Oh Percy. Truly the Oppenheimer of Exandria. Leap-frogging wheellock firearms like that means that, in the years between campaign one and two, all the other technologies have probably been playing catch-up to weapons tech. So when are we now? It’s probably easier to move away from tech that exists, to tech that doesn’t exist, to support a date for the current, campaign two tech level. This brings us back to Captain Avantica’s ship, and Hupperdook.So steampunk should really be called coalpunk, because you can’t have a steam engine without coal. And no, charcoal isn’t good enough. You need fossil fuels. Charcoal is a big step up in power from burning a log, and it pales in comparison to coal. You can’t run a steam ship on lumber or charcoal, you’d never be able to carry enough. You also need fossil fuels for plastics and other petroleum products. It’s almost hard to wrap your head around how many things around you are made from oil by-products.So, do we have coalpower? That’s a tough question I haven’t been able to pin down. I’m not sure if Matt has even mentioned coal existing, and it’s possible he’s used that word, but used it to refer to charcoal. You really have to ask, does Exandria have fossil fuels to harvest? I wasn’t able to find an exact date for how old Exandria is. Civilization is fairly young on the planet, and if the planet as a whole is young, then there has likely not been enough time to process plankton into oil in the planet’s crust. Regardless, coalpower does not yet seem to be widespread, if it can even exist at all. The Gear Warden made by Cleff was mentioned to use both natural and magical propulsion, I believe steam was mentioned, but obviously the machine couldn’t be running on coal, as it was self-sustaining for years without refueling coal or water, so it had to be getting both its power from magical means. It’s very likely that, given both the industry of Hupperdook, and the water needs of Nicodranas, steam power might be in use, but the fire must be coming from magic, or less efficient wood or charcoal. Wood or charcoal are good enough for stationary functions, but nothing that moves would be able to sustain itself on those fuels, so they would need to get their fuel from magic. Also notable, Captain Avantica’s ship is still a sailing vessel, it hasn’t been replaced by steampowered ships. And you can’t get to wide-scale electrical generation from wood or charcoal.So given that we have flintlock weapons, infrastructure equivalent to the early modern era, but no fossil fuels (possibly), I think it’s safe to say that Exandria is around the start of the 18th century. Honestly, I feel robbed that they’re not walking around in clothes that look like this with greatswords. Caleb in a Mr. Darcy outfit is just... well, NSFW.
PART 3: CYBERPUNK EXANDRIA, RIGHT?
Unless we get a strangely direct explanation from Matt at some point about the presence of fossil fuels in Exandria, the future is a bit hard to predict. Essentially, if there are no fossil fuels, then Exandria could reasonably get to the cusp of the Industrial Revolution, but I don’t think they could truly industrialize without a magical/alchemical equivalent of fossil fuels. Current human society as we experience it is top to bottom a result of fossil fuels, sadly. If in his old age, Percy is in Whitestone, tinkering away in his lab while a pack of part-elf de Rolos run around and starts making an alchemically derived plastic, then hold onto your butts, Exandria is going full Shadowrun with dragon CEOs and everything.
Or they could just go high-fantasy Eberron style and chalk everything up to bound elementals. Oh wait...
PART 4: WAS THERE A POINT TO ALL THIS?
Not really, mostly an elaborate Trojan Horse to present a bunch of cool science and history facts that have been rolling around in my head since I started watching the show. And possibly the beginning of a whisper campaign to get them to play the Jane Austen RPG as a one-shot once it prints.
#criticalrole#critical role#exandria#d&d#percy de rolo#tabletop game#the mighty nein#vox machina#blame ripley#blame percy#Widowgast heights#spoilers
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