Morning brought with it the looming promise of another oppressive day of heat, Kaleb wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of journeying over rugged lands in a hotbox on wheels. How far that wagon would go before the wheels came off or the road became too savage for the axles to bear was another concern that fluttered in the distance.

“Up, up, up!” Kaleb clapped and kicked at the heaps on the floor. They shuffled, groaned and roused into creaking stretches and huffing balls. “Let’s get going, We don’t want the fanfare slowing us down.”

Iridia sat up and rubbed the crust from her eyes, she’d slept surprisingly well considering the lodgings and the anticipation of an unknown adventure. “Doubtful anyone will be blowing trumpets for your quest, Kaleb.”

“I see you’re still in a foul mood, holding grudges is bad for the heart. You will address me as master from now on, not Kaleb.”

Iridia took a moment to think and thought of better hills she could die upon. “Yes, Master Kaleb.” She pondered the advice, it was remarkably sobering considering the egregious opinions and thoughts he had shared since they met. It didn’t change how she felt though, Kaleb was a witless pig and she couldn’t wait for this little job to conclude.

Flencer looked miserable, bags hung under his bloodshot eyes and his voice was a landslide of angry gravel. “Drink.”

“I’m not your bloody servant.” Kaleb left the house and slammed the door to leave his party to their rumblings as they readied. He fed the horses and made the last checks to the wagon and the stock. He counted five days for four people, he’d have to keep his eye on that greedy dwarf who’d probably eat the wheels if given a chance.

Inside, Flencer was finishing the warm ale that Morgan had failed to finish. “Ahhh.” he wiped his beard. “Gonna need more of that.”

Iridia shook her head as she checked her equipment. She picked up her armour and inspected it with a small smile. This was really hers. She’d only had simple leather tunics, wearing this made her feel like a real Paladin. She gave it a quick hug and carried it out to pack in the wagon. “Thank you for the armour, Master Kaleb.” Iridia hadn’t thanked him yet and thought perhaps she had been a little rude, maybe he wasn’t all that bad.

“Hm, thank you for reminding me just how much you have cost me already.” He moved to the other horse as he spoke, firming up the reins.

With that all the sincerity of her gratitude was wiped away, of course, he didn’t buy her the armour because he wanted to, he had to so she didn’t die, he did it because he was concerned about how other people would see him. She shook her head and clambered into the back of the wagon.

Morgan joined Iridia and sat across from her. She got a good look at just how scruffy he was, old clothes, an old hat with a frayed feather clinging to it with a clast claw. A whirl of guilt rose in her stomach, here she was, brand new and all outfitted. She shook the guilt away, this was Kaleb’s fault, he didn’t have the decency to get him a new outfit.

“So, all ready for our adventure, Paladin Iridia?” Morgan smiled at her, joyful as ever and filled with enthusiasm.

“Is that what we are calling this? I’m sure it’ll be a miserable trek across dusty roads.”

“Oh, you must make your adventure where you see none, my lady!” He reached forward to touch her hand which quickly retreated. Still, he beamed with a joy she couldn’t quite understand. How could he be so happy working as a servant to the biggest piece of work in Angelspree?

“Helper, boy!”

Morgan looked to the exit of the wagon. “Looks like my services are required!”

“Your name is Morgan.” Iridia nodded.

“I know, but it is also helper boy.” He lept out of the wagon. Iridia could hear Kaleb barking orders at him followed by those yes my lords he always responded with.

Flencer clambered into the wagon next and caused the box to rock as he slumped down beside Irida. “Well, good mornin’ young lady.”

“Morning, Mr Flencer.” She offered him a smile, from what little time she had spent with him, she found quite charming, much more encouraging to know she’d have company other than a mindless servant and Kaleb.

“Ah.” He wiggled to get comfy, rocking the wagon more. “Just call me Flence, love.” He patted at his chest, slowly first and then more frantically, for a moment he became a whirlwind of compacted panic, padding himself down and reaching into his pockets. The Dwarven storm calmed as he reached into the inner pocket of his woollen jacket.

“Everything well, Flencer?”

“Ah, yes, yes everyfinks fine, thought I’d lost something.”

“What?”

“Nuffin, don’t you worry.”

Iridia’s eyes narrowed, everyone around her was weird in this city, all tricks and games, and nobody seemed to speak clearly. She missed the country, the simple life was the best life.

Morgan rejoined the party in the wagon before Kaleb appeared at the foot from outside, curtain drawn so he could look in and inspect the troops with a scrutiny marked with shame. He wasn’t happy about his rag-tag team, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter. “Right, we are off, anyone needs the toilet before we go? Because I won’t be stopping until Brimshire.”

Iridia leaned forward to poke her head from behind the dwarf. “Whose driving the wagon?”

“Me.” Said Kaleb.

“Aren’t you riding out in front on your horse?”

“I have no horse.”

She stifled a laugh. “You rode one before.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“I borrowed it.”

She sat back and shook her head, her disdain hidden from Kaleb by the portly Dwarf.

“Well, let’s get this wagon rolling.” Kaleb closed the curtain and clambered onto the front. “Heeyah!” with a crack of the reins the wagon crunched and squealed into life, rolling down the bumpy cobbled streets and out onto the open road that led out of the ornate Angelspree gate and keep.

The journey was exactly how Iridia pictured it, hot, smelly and mindnumbing. Flencer had fallen asleep and was snoring like a hog in heat and Morgan was humming a playful yet irritating tune. Kaleb had been silent at the front of the wagon, not even checking to see if anyone needed a drink or a pee.

“When will we reach Brimshire?”

Morgan looked up in surprise, it was rare that Iridia spoke to him without prompt. “Oh, well, I think it’s about a day away now.”

“A day!” Iridia growled and slapped her knees as she stood. She pushed her head out in front and the warm air struck her face as the familiar scent of lavender rushed up her nostrils, back into the country again. She paused to savour the flavours of the rural breeze. The view was just as magnificent; those rolling verdant hills looked like a painting, and soon they’d be out of sight as the tree line of Happywood was just a few wheel turns ahead. With a grumble, she clambered out onto the driver's stoop and sat beside Kaleb.

He gave her no mind as he looked ahead.

“I need to pee.”

“Brimshire will have a hole for you, Paladin Iridia.” Kaleb kept his eyes forward as he spoke. He seemed hypnotised, not his usual self.

“That’s nearly a day away, I need to pee now.”

“You can hold it, Paladin.”

“I’ll pee in the wagon.”

Kaleb tugged the reins and halted the wagon, Iridia fell forward and stopped herself before she flew off the front.

“What the bloody ‘ell!” Flencer called from the back.

“Go then.”

Flencer poked his head from the wagon. “We shouldn’t stop here.”

“Iridia needs to pee.” Iridia had already hopped to find privacy deeper into the brush. “I fear I have underestimated our rate of progress, it’s been a while, We won’t reach Brimshire by nightfall so we should prepare to camp.”

“Camp? Out ‘ere?”

“Yes, it’s safe out here, We are still well within the influence of Imperial civility little Dwarf, There is a reason this place is called; Happywood”

Flencer bit his lip, not convinced by Kaleb's assessment, and his head retreated into the wagon with a gravelly rumble. “More like shitty wood.”

Kaleb’s brow had furrowed, this Dwarf was a peculiar thing, then again he hadn’t spent much time in the company of short-stacks, perhaps they were all this odd. He glanced up as Iridia emerged from the thicket, adjusting herself accordingly and joining Kaleb up front.

“Let’s get going then.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’d like to go pee too!” Morgan called from the back.

Kaleb ignored him and slapped the reins to set the wagon in motion once more. “We’ll be camping under the stars tonight.”

“What about Brimshire?”

“Out of our reach, we should have set off a good five hours ago.”

“We were sleeping.”

“We can sleep when we are dead.”

“Right.” Iridia sank in her seat, she remained out front with Kaleb even if they didn’t speak. The wagon smelt of Dwarf farts and mould. She’d hoped to get a little nap but it seemed Morgan's squeals would interrupt any chance of that. He and the Dwarf were playing a hearty game of slaps–Flencer was winning.

The woods were getting cooler as the sun set, the canopy helped keep the road relatively shady. Kaleb decided it would be best to stop and make camp when they arrived at an opening with a huge oak tree in the centre. The party unloaded some food, and Flencer (as promised) prepared camp and food on a small fire they started. The opening was quite perfect for a snooze under the sky, the air was warm and the food smelled great—even so—Flencer seemed nervous.

“We could keep going you know.”

“Can’t see the road at night, silly Dwarf, I don’t want to get the wagon hitched on a great ruddy stone.” Kaleb waved away the Dwarf as he chewed on a hunk of lamb, spitting the gristle into the flames and causing them to sputter. “Plus the horses need a rest, why don’t you relax? You’re a nuisance.”

Iridia leaned back against a tree and inspected her spear, Morgan sidled up beside her, she moved the spear tip to the side and sighed as she saw him sit.

“How’s the journey so far, my lady?”

“Boring.”

“Right you are, would you like me to fetch you some lamb? It’s cooked just right.”

“I’ll get my own, you’re not my slave.”

“Oh, but it’s my honour to–woah!”

Irida pushed Morgan back and he fell flat, She stood up using the haft of the spear and shook her head at him. “When are you going to grow a spine, hm?”

Kaleb and the Dwarf glanced at the little spat but went back to their discussion. Morgan looked up with wide eyes, not expecting the treatment from Iridia who had been mostly kind to him. “Well, I just, sorry.” he scurried away and went to sit on his own by his bedroll.

Iridia felt bad, but her hunger had taken over, still in a wretched mood she stormed over to the pot and pulled out a leg of lamb.

“The smaller one for you, eh?” Kaleb pointed at her with the bone he was sucking dry.

“I’m hungry, and growing.” She stomped away and tucked into her meat.

“Bloody children.” Kaleb sighed and looked at Flencer. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“Not hungry.”

“You’re a walking barrel, I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t have to, look, I’m gonna do a liccle patrol, make sure we’re secure.”

Kaleb narrowed his eyes, something was off.

Flencer clambered into the back of the wagon to fetch his crossbow from the weapons trunk and hopped out, he nodded at Kaleb. Iridia and Morgan looked a little confused as the Dwarf disappeared behind a tree and into the darkness.

Kaleb stood up slowly and fetched his Hammer from the wagon, Irida was waiting for him as he came back out.

“What’s going on?”

“Wait here, guard the camp, I’ll be back soon.”

“I should go with you if it’s dangerous, I need to learn right?”

“You need to stay here and watch the wagon.”

“But–”

“Paladin Iridia, you will wait here and watch the wagon, be alert.”

Irida turned on heel and marched off, she snapped up her spear from the floor and stood by the fire. Morgan didn’t move, he was sadder than he’d ever seemed before, Iridia felt responsible for that. She looked back to Kaleb but he had already gone.

“Sorry.”

Morgan looked up at Irida. “Ah, nothing to apologise for, My lady.”

“Call me Iridia.”

“Well, I shouldn’t you are my better.”

“I’m not better, I’m a Paladin–I should serve you.”

Morgan’s brow quirked, he hadn’t heard such odd words before and he found Iridia to be quite the anomaly. Her youth belied a lack of wisdom but also was the harbinger of naivety, a dangerous trait in this dark world. “My lady, some things in this world are meant to be, there is an order and that order should remain, lest we fall into chaos, do you understand?”

Iridia paused and then smiled. “I suppose.” She outstretched her hand and Morgan shook it softly. “At least let me make it up to you, want some lamb?”

“Well, what ‘ave we ‘ere? Couple o’ lovers?”

Iridia turned, caught off guard and outnumbered.