Xander ordered his tank golem to come to him and take up its weapons. Once it had plodded over and mechanically bent over and picked up its armaments from the ground, he then ordered it to one edge of the camp. There it stood, with orders that if anyone that was not from the camp drew near, it should bang its weapon on its shield until further orders were given. It could help Xander guard the camp tonight. Gabrelle had done fine work in healing the wounded, but all of the survivors, even those that bore no wounds were exhausted from the walk. It had been especially hard on the children, with the uninjured adults taking turns carrying them on their backs so that they did not have to walk the whole way. As Xander did not need sleep, he decided that he would take the watch for the entire night to allow everyone as much sleep as possible. While he was at it, he’d create a small wagon that the shield bearing golem could pull behind it to set the children in. That would make it easier for everyone.
The camp awoke the next morning to find that Xander was still patrolling around the small ring of tents, and that there was a small, red wagon in the center of the camp, just large enough to fit the few children of the group on. Small smiles were had by the parents as the children jostled each other climbing up and down from the cart as they explored the new item that had appeared overnight. Breakfast was short, and then they were all back to walking. Gabrelle had done a fine job with the wounded, and Xander was pleased to see that those that had been struggling with their wounds the previous day seemed to be having little trouble this morning. His shield-bearing golem had a roped tied around its waist as it hauled the children behind it on their wagon, unencumbered by their weight. Xander had created cushions for the seats and several blankets as well, so most of the children were wrapped up and cozy for the journey ahead. The younger ones, at least. He noticed that the two oldest children, the boy and the girl he’d found first with their mother, spent most of their time looking anxiously out at one side of the road or another. Afraid of another attack, he thought with an internal frown. He was too.
Xander carried his second golem like a sack over his shoulder, the extra height of his spidery backpack legs preventing it from dragging on the ground. As soon as he felt the [Golemancer] ability come off cooldown in his status sheet, he cast it upon his newest creation. Soon, it was on its own two feet, prowling alongside the clunky steps of the other golem in the center of the group.
Gabrelle rode Freyja at a walking pace at the front of the train of people, while Xander made up the rear. He frequently took to the air to scout the nearby areas for any potential bandits, but he saw none. The large band they’d encountered must have chased off or absorbed any other roving groups. He hoped that would hold true until they reached the next town. Throughout the day, Xander debated with himself on whether it would be better to create more golems or to augment the combat effectiveness of the two he already had with [Golemancer]. Xander considered that he’d have to micromanage each and every golem if they only had a single application of the skill on them, and admitted to himself that it was something he’d struggle with in the heat of a fight. He would instead cast the ability on the two he had already created, allowing them to act more independently of him during a fight, alternating which one received a new application each day.
Xander was relieved each day that they did not encounter another group of bandits on the road. The two golems were both walking and moving more coordinatedly after additional applications of [Golemancer]. The shield golem was no longer clunky, instead able to walk in a more normal fashion, as if it were merely a large man in plate armor, while the four-armed, sword wielding golem was able to make more use of its agile form. Xander had tested out its speed one day and was impressed watching it break into a sprint, leaning forward into the run. By Xander’s estimate, it would be able to outpace a horse. He spent each night on watch with his two golems, ensuring that the camp was as guarded as it could be without any of the still living occupants having to sacrifice sleep. Now that the wounded were fully healed, thanks to Gabrelle, and the children could be pulled in their wagon, their pace improved, and Xander regained confidence in their ability to reach the next town on the map within his original estimate of a week.
They met no one on the road that entire week. Xander knew caravans were fewer and farther between than they had been previously, but it was still an eerie feeling to him, the road deserted each and every day of travel. Still, he’d rather encounter no one than encounter another group of marauders. On their eighth day of walking, the town of Rantol came into view. Looking at the town from his scope, Xander could see that there was a wall of barricades surrounding the entire town. The town must have suffered attacks from bandits as well. He was just happy to see that the town was intact though. The figures of guards could be seen atop small cobbled together watchtowers near the road. Xander made his way to the front of the group towards Gabrelle.
“Looks like the town is walled up,” he said to her as he drew within easy earshot.
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” she responded. “But it’s not deserted?”
“No, I could see a couple of people on some small towers they’ve made. So there’s at least a few people left.”
“Mmm, hopefully they let us in.”
Xander periodically checked on the watchtowers facing them from the town. Soon, the sentries noticed their group, and he could see movement as men and women waved to each other or pointed in his direction. Several bow wielding figures came to the towers. As the group neared the edge of what Xander assumed was bow range, he spoke up.
“We’re getting close to where they could fire on us. Think we ought to go on ahead scope things out while the rest stay back here, Gabrelle?”
“Probably a good idea.” She turned to the survivors, who Xander could tell were anxious to reach the safety of the town, and said, “Wait here, please. We’re just going to go talk to the folks guarding the town is all.”
Xander ordered his two golems to guard to rest of the group as he, Gabrelle, and Freyja walked closer to the ramshackle gate that had been built on the road entering town. They continued walking until someone from the wall cried “Halt!”
They both halted as requested. Xander held his hands up, indicating that he was unarmed. The ability to manifest his weapons from his inventory directly into his hands made the gesture somewhat moot, but the guards up on the tower didn’t need to know that.
“What’s your business?” Called out the same voice from the tower.
Xander looked at Gabrelle. “Should I talk, or do you want to?”
Gabrelle shrugged. “You can do it.”
Turning back towards the tower, Xander yelled “We were part of a caravan until a large group of bandits killed many of us. What you see here is all that’s left. We have children and wounded with us. I’m just trying to get them somewhere safe.”
He could hear murmuring from atop the tower, as a quiet discussion took place. Once the voices quieted down, he heard, “Alright! But no sudden moves, and don’t try anything. Once you’re inside, you can talk to the mayor and he’ll decide where to go from there with you.”
“That sounds fair. Thank you,” Xander replied.
As he, Gabrelle, and Freyja walked back towards the waiting survivors, the gate blocking the road began to move. Small wooden wheels on the bottom of it allowed several men to haul it to the side an open enough for a single wagon to pass through. After being beckoned towards the gate by the two mercs, the group began moving towards the town, and what they hoped was at least a small measure of safety. As soon as they all passed through the gate, it was drawn back into place, sealing the town from the outside once again.
As Xander entered through the gate, he was confronted by a host of men and women wielding bows, axes, pitchforks, and any other farm implement that could easily be used as a weapon. He could see a few scythes in the crowd that had been converted into war scythes by tilting the scythe blade upwards to be in line with the shaft. In front of the crowd stood a rather harried looking man with a large beard and slightly nicer clothes than the farmers behind him. Xander assumed that this must be the mayor. The folk standing behind him looked anxious, as if they feared that Xander and the group of men, women, and children behind him could be bandits in disguise. Similarly, the survivors of the caravan were tense, frightened by the armed crowd in front of them.
The mayor spread his arms and gave a small chuckle. “Welcome, fine folk, to Rantol. I wish we could greet you in better times and without a host of weapons, but times are not as they once were. Please, be at ease, all of us,” he said with a pointed look behind him at the still anxious townsfolk. “I do not believe that you pose a threat to us, burdened by children and light on supplies as you are… come, we can speak more at the tavern, though there’s little to serve.” The mayor turned around and began shooing the gathered crowd away, haranguing them to return to their homes and jobs. Once the crowd had dispersed, the mayor faced them again. “I apologize for the display, but there have been… incidents before, where cutthroats have attempted to enter the town under the guise of refugees and take the gate so that their fellow blaggards might pillage the town. My name is Garrett, by the way.”
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“I understand,” Xander said, nodding in agreement. It seemed that one could not be too careful, this area of the kingdom seemed to be becoming a lawless no man’s land. “Mine is Xander. We’ve encountered some of those cutthroats… what’s left of us… well, it’s not even half of what the caravan Gabrelle and I linked up with originally was.”
“Linked up with?” The mayor asked.
“We,” Xander gestured to Gabrelle and Freyja, “Were traveling alone at first to reach Sempta, but encountered a caravan that was under attack from some bandits. We joined in to help them fend the attack off, and they gave us the offer to travel with them, as well as to pay us for our services.” Xander shook his head. “Not that it ended up doing them any good… the next group we encountered was significantly larger than any I’ve ever seen before. Think a lot of them were deserters… They had decent arms and armor, and a level of discipline I hadn’t seen from bandits before. Even though I was able to force them to flee after an extended fight, there were enough of them to easily keep me surrounded while the others killed and raided.”
“I’ve… heard tell of this group,” Garrett said, sadly. “You’d be correct in assuming that a good many of them are deserters. We’ve managed to avoid their avarice for now by being a fortified target, but many of us fear the day they turn their eye on us. You say you managed to break their attack? Even if it may not have saved your caravan… it gives us hope. Every one of theirs slain is another reason for them not to attack a town like ours. There will be cups raised to you and yours when word gets out about this. Would I be correct in assuming that you and your friend are mercenaries, then? I can’t imagine anyone else who would be comfortable making the journey alone as you had intended.”
Xander nodded at the man’s question. “Yeah. We aim to rejoin the rest of our team in Sempta. I’ve been… away for some time. I didn’t realize how bad things were in this part of the country. Gabrelle told me about it, but, it’s different to experience it.”
“Mmm. I see. So you intend to move on from here once you’ve rested?” The mayor asked, sounding a little crestfallen. “I’d hoped to be able to contract you for the town’s defense, at least for a small while, in the event that we do come under attack.”
Xander turned to Gabrelle, who had been listening, but had not engaged in the conversation. “What do you think, Gabrelle? I’m a bit anxious to get to see everyone again… but a day or two couldn’t hurt?”
Gabrelle nodded. “Honestly, I could use a break. Healing and walking all day for a week straight has me a bit worn down. I could see taking a short rest here before we move on. But not on a contractual basis. If the town is attacked, we’ll join in the defense, of course, but we will move on as soon or as late as we decide to.”
The mayor gave a small bow of appreciation. “Of course, I completely understand. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish.” He looked at the weathered band of caravan survivors that were still standing behind Xander and Gabrelle. “Will they be traveling with you as well when you leave?”
Xander turned to look at the group that he and Gabrelle had been shepherding the past week. “Well, uhm, I suppose that’s up to them. I’d assumed that they’d want to wait until the next caravan came by and rejoin their companies, if they have one… but I supposed I never really asked.” He turned to Gabrelle and said more quietly, “What do we do? I mean we can’t just… abandon them on the road if they decide to leave with us.”
Gabrelle sighed. “I doubt they’ll want to go back out there any time soon. The injured could do with time to rest, even with the healing they’ve received. It would be best for them to wait for a caravan. I’ll speak to the remaining guards and make sure to… urge them to wait for the next one to come by before moving on,” she replied in hushed tones. The few guards had taken over the nominal leadership of the group, as Xander and Gabrelle, despite their help, had kept aloof of the politics of the group.
“Thanks,” he replied, breathing a mental sigh of relief. He wished he could still physically sigh. Maybe he should modify his metal body to do that, he thought, distractedly. Turning back to Garrett the mayor, he asked, “Is it going to be an issue if they decide to stay?”
Garett held up his hands in a placating manner. “Oh no, heavens no. The area might have fallen into chaos, but we’re still gods fearing folk in this town. It wouldn’t be right to leave the victims of those…” He struggled to find a word to describe the bandits, “monsters, without help. You’re not the first group of survivors to make their way to town, and sadly, I doubt you’ll be the last.”
Xander nodded in understanding. “Thank you,” he said to Garrett. “I can help shore up your defenses and create some sturdy weapons for you as repayment for your kindness. I expect that’s worth more than coin right now.”
Garrett clasped his hands together, struggling to contain his excitement. “Indeed! Indeed it is, you don’t know how glad I am to hear that, good sir. We’ve done our best to fortify the town, but… we’ve only so much to work with.”
It took far more than the originally planned ‘day or two,’ that Xander had originally proposed, but once he got started on a project, he was loathe to leave it until it was finished. Gabrelle was good natured about the delay, and seemed to enjoy her off time, only tending to the occasional accidental injury in town, much to the delight of the folk that lived there. No healer lived in the town anymore. The one that had been there had been drafted during the war and never returned. Xander’s days were filled with wood, stone, and metal. He formed the wooden walls that had been erected around the town into a proper palisade, complete with pointed tips and a walkway at the top which could be used to patrol the wall. The four small towers that had guarded the town, two at either end of the road that led through town, and another two halfway in between each of those, were taken down one by one by Xander. In their place rose stone towers which lookouts could use to observe the surrounding terrain, or to provide a place for archers in the event of an attack. Crenellations surrounded the top of each tower to give cover to anyone standing upon it. The wheeled portion of wall that had been used as a gate to block the road into and out of Rantol were replaced by their own wooden gatehouses. Xander even spent the mana to create a metal portcullis which could be dropped into place if the need arose.
In the two weeks he spent bolstering the town’s defenses, as well as creating an arsenal of spears, shields, bows, and simple armor, he found that he was burning mana faster than he was regenerating it. The nights he spent with Gabrelle, comfortably snuggling her gave him some time to regenerate, but the drain on his overall reserve was noticeable. It had grown large over the month of traveling with the caravan, enough to compensate for what he was spending now, but it still pained him to see so much of it spent. It was for a good cause, though, so he didn’t mind the expenditure too much.
Another caravan still had not appeared by the time Xander finished the final portion of the defenses for the town, the second gatehouse, which would open to the portion of road that he and Gabrelle would be taking to head to Sempta. With the weapons that he’d furnished the town, as well as their newer, sturdier wall, Xander felt confident that they’d be able to weather any attacks that might come their way. But there was no reason for them to stay now, and they’d already delayed more than had been intended anyways.
As Xander and Gabrelle began to gather their things, word somehow managed to spread throughout the town of their departure. By the time they had left the inn, nearly the entire town was gathered outside to see them off. Mirroring their first meeting, Garrett was once again standing in front of the crowd, which was unarmed this time. In his arms were two small boxes. Xander, Gabrelle, and Freyja, who had been given the run of the town during their stay, stood opposite the crowd, unsure of what to do or say.
Garrett saved them from their uncertainty by speaking first. “We’re all sad to see you go, though I knew you would eventually move on. As the mayor of the town, I feel it’s only fitting to see you off after what you’ve both done for our village.” He proffered the boxes, one in each hand, to the two mercenaries. Xander and Gabrelle both carefully took the boxes into their hands, Xander turning it over several times, thoughtfully. It was a well-crafted box; Garrett must have had it commissioned by the carpenter in the village especially for this occasion. “Go on,” the mayor said. “Open them.”
Xander opened his box, mirrored by Gabrelle. Inside of each was an identical, rolled up scroll. Xander look at it curiously without removing it from the box. It appeared to be vellum, and he could see the elegant writing showing through the back side of the rolled paper. He looked at the mayor curiously.
Garrett, seeing Xanders confusion, began to explain. “Written on each of these scrolls, you will find a deed for a small plot within the village, adjacent to each other. They’re currently empty, but they are now yours to do with as you see fit, should you find the time to do so; I’m sure you’re quite busy people, after all. But it seemed a proper gift for the people who helped make sure our town continues to exist in these times. You’ll always be welcome here in Rantol as long as I am mayor, and long after that, I expect. And, as land owners within the town, you’ll never be able to be denied entry should such an unfortunate occurrence ever come to pass.” He swept a formal bow to the two of them as he finished his explanation.
“Wow…” Xander said in amazement. “I never expected to own property here. Thank you, I appreciate your gratitude. I wouldn’t have required payment for my work, but your thanks is welcome, Garrett.”
“Thank you, Garrett,” Gabrelle said as Xander finished speaking. “I, too, did not expect to be given something of such value. You have my thanks as well, especially as it was Xander who did most of the work,” she said with no small amount of humor.
“Nonsense!” Garrett replied. “Having a healer in the town, even for such a short time, has eased life considerably for us. If you ever decide to put down your sword, err… mace, we would love to have you as a healer here in our little village.”
Gabrelle smiled. She had no intention of ever stopping her adventuring career, at least not until she was too old to physically continue, but it was nice to feel welcomed and wanted in such a way. She inclined her head in thanks to the mayor. “Perhaps one day,” she said. “Thank you again, for this gift, and for hosting us at the inn for so long.”
“It was well worth the small cost, considering what you two were both willing to give to us without expectation of payment,” the mayor said. “If you ever come back this way, please do visit.”