19 Huntmaster, Year 23 of Peace
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Silver tensed every muscle in his body as he braced his shield. Already the fibrula had begun to splinter and burst, what he wouldn't give for some true solid hardwood. His dominant hand clutched a pendant of the enneagram. His faith would protect him, as it always had.
Sledge, a true hulk of a Pridefolk stood opposite to him, slightly hunched and waiting to pounce. He held a mighty club in his right hand, tracing a line in the sand as he circled. Sledge's fur was a mix of greys and blacks and browns, creating a striped palette accentuated by patches of scar and interrupted by a pair of trousers rolled up just above his knees.
Silver breathed in and readied himself, this time would be different. With no hint betraying intent on his feline face, Sledge whipped the club at him in an effortless motion and it flew between the pair, spinning across the divide as it left Sledge's hand. Silver barked in surprise before issuing an invocation of protection, but too late, the club hit him hard before he could begin channeling. The shield burst at the impact and shattered as so too did Silver's arm. Silver blinked and stared at his arm, it wasn't supposed to bend that way.
Sledge rushed over, a grimace overtaking his face as he behold Silver's arm.
"Dat was 'arder... um... wut ya need? INKY GIT O'ER 'ERE!"
Silver blinked away the pain that suddenly issued forth, gritting his toothy maw as his arm blazed in agony.
"Just set it, I will do the rest."
Without hesitation, Sledge's clawed hands grabbed Silver's arm and reoriented it in a jerking twisting motion. Silver nearly passed out from the pain, but he focused entirely on his pendant and his faith and began channeling the light of the Ennead into his arm. Moments later, with a soft warm glow, his bones re-knit and the muscle beneath was restored. His scales, however, remained shattered, there was little he could do but wait to shed.
Ink's voice softly carried from behind Silver.
"It seems all is in order here. Correct me if I am wrong, but I do not believe you were supposed to throw anything Sledge."
Still grimacing, but with a twinkle in his eye, Sledge responded.
"Well I were t'inkin' dat if we keep doin' da same t'ing, kinda defeats da point ya? We wuz tryin' to see if Silva 'ere could do a magic before I bonked 'im. N' well, I keep bonkin'im so I t'ink, wut if I t'row it dis time, keep 'im on 'is feets?"
Ink cocked their head slightly and responded without emotion.
"I see. An excellent idea, but perhaps keep training and sparring to what is agreed upon beforehand yes?"
Silver coughed and exhaled.
"No it is alright, Sledge is right. I was anticipating more time, but this was an excellent demonstration of how fast my reflexes need to be in the face of the unknown."
Ink's face gently moved in color from a gentle blue to shades of violet, their eyes giving no hint of their inner thoughts as their nose slits widened slightly.
"Perhaps, though I fail to see the usefulness of this particular exercise, unless you intend to take up dueling as a hobby."
Silver muttered as he gathered up the splinters of his shield.
"I already told you, I need to improve my reflexes and Sledge is more than happy to practice his bonkin'."
Sledge smiled and clapped Silver on the shoulder.
"Any time ol' pal."
Ink watched as the pair cleaned their mess from the beach and donned their clothes.
"When you are both ready, I believe Gale has an update on the job."
Silver responded without looking back.
"She certainly settled in quickly. I do not think I took to the life as well as she has."
Silver saw a flurry of movement from Ink.
"Everything alright there Ink?"
The Lucidfolk had stepped back onto the pavement and taken off a boot and uttered a gentle incantation. Sand exploded out of the boot far faster than it could have been poured. Silver could smell the magic as it oozed forth, the capability a holdover from his time as an Imperator.
"I do not understand how this much sand entered my boots in such a small amount of time."
Sledge laughed with a hearty chuckle before falling backwards into the sand and rolling in the dust, causing Ink to recoil at the sight.
"I dun get it Inky, da sand feels right nice ta me. Is ex-fo-li-ate-ing."
Ink stared in surprise and horror at the sandy Pridefolk.
"...word of the day?"
Sledge's grin widened, showing an array of pointed teeth as he looked up at Ink.
"Naw, saw sum soap 'n da boy keep on sayin' how ex-fo-li-ate-ing it is. I try me grubbers 'n it felt real sandy. Ex-fo-li-ate-ing."
Ink stared, narrowing their eyes, the sand had long since run empty from their boot.
"I... see..."
Silver had finished cleaning up and stepped up onto the dark grey pavement.
"Shall we?"
Ink intentionally and slowly put their boot back on as Sledge jumped to his feet and shook loose countless grains of sand. The group left the beach and headed back to town.
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Sledge jauntily pranced down the main street of the Caldera Shantytown. He was a full head taller than Silva, who was already quite tall for a Starborn. Inky on the other hand, well they maybe just reached the bottom of his ribs. It was turning into a pleasant sunny day, very nearly the apex of summer and the start of a new year. Face and Sparks had promised him that the company would all be back in Arx Boreas for the new year celebrations. While Sledge was hopeful, it wasn't looking likely, it was easily a twenty day trip along the canals back. He mentally grumbled that Face and Sparks got to stay behind and 'build the business' while he had to endure not just one barge voyage, but two!
Instead of fixating on what could be, Sledge took in his surroundings. It was still morning and the light of day had not yet fully crested the lip of the Caldera, leaving much of the Shantytown illuminated by the galvonic blue of the arc lights. Guilder and wrights aplenty were already crowding the street, bustling to get their morning grub before another day of labor. The pavement felt cool on the pads of Sledge's feet and the unremarkable smell of fresh redbread and lightly spiced stews contrasted with the odor of people. Sledge longed for a plate of smoked fish, but such commodities were unlikely to be found here.
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Though the Caldera was partly filled with water, no fish grew here. Sledge had asked Inky about it and roughly understood that the water was too spicy for the fishies. Inky knew all sorts of fun things and seemed happy to talk at length about them. Sledge mostly tuned it out, but talking made Inky happy and that made Sledge happy.
Sledge took the lead as they waded into the crowd. He did not force his way through, most smaller than him gave way and most were smaller than him. Gale had found accommodations for the group at an inn called the Tawdy Bucket and had even gotten them the Guild discount! While an unimpressive shack of a building made up the the exterior, it's interior left one feeling somehow more underwhelmed and curious where all their coin went. A collection of stools and tables haphazardly spilled across a wide and narrow room. In the corner, an ill kept bar was staffed by an exhausted Sternfolk boy. Sledge was certain his name was 'olland. Maybe 'owland? 'oward?
"Eyyo 'owlanard, can we git sum ale? Busy work knockin' down Silva 'ere."
He smiled at his Starborn companion, who met his gaze and Sledge quickly looked away. Silva's scales were a pleasant shade of blue, and while he was a most agreeable fellow, Sledge could not keep eye contact with him. There was something about the metal in his eyes that raised Sledge's fur and gave him a nervous energy.
The bar-boy looked up at the trio and plainly stated.
"Ale or mead? Last night you said ale but you complained that it wasn't sweet. So, ale or mead?"
Sledge contemplated a moment before Inky responded.
"Water and redbread, we need our full suite of senses."
Sledge felt his face sloop sullen, sometimes Inky was no fun at all. The bar-boy dipped into the kitchen behind the bar, arriving back with three plates of redbread drenched in gravy and three wooden mugs. He placed the meals onto the bar and looked tiredly at Inky.
"Should I add this to the ledger or do you want to close out?"
Inky responded quickly, grabbing their food and drink.
"On the ledger for now, we will close out soon, I am sure."
Silva added a polite thanks as he took his set upstairs.
Sledge took his plate and mug and stared curiously at the bar-boy.
"Ya been 'ere all night lad?"
The lad sighed deeply.
"Harun never came in last night so, here I am."
He grinned but there was no smile to be found.
Sledge poked at his soggy bread as he responded.
"Wan' me ta look inta it? 'Ave an address for 'im? Mebbe' I could ask Stabby to 'old da bar down w'ile you git sum winks?"
The bar-boy took a moment to parse the question before responding.
"Harun lives two blocks down main street in a townhouse the right. I think it's number 12? If you have time to check, I'd appreciate it. I'll stay on for now, maybe close up once the morning rush is over. Thanks."
Sledge nodded approvingly before following his companions upstairs.
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Ink partook the breakfast at a polite and appropriate pace. They took no joy in the experience of food and was continually envious of the flora who could simply drink in the daylight for their energy needs. As they ate, they watched the others in the room, particularly at their eyes. Ink found that many a secret hid behind the eyes of others. For example, Silver's were quite unique and were a clear mark of his service. His sclera swirled with variations of metallic silvers while his pupils formed a cross of rectangles. The silver was what distinguished him, only those who had served as Imperators within the Illuminant were thusly marked. Silver didn't speak of his service and Ink had the sense not to ask. The Imperators had a reputation after all, being something of the enforcers of the Mortal Laws of the Empire.
Sledge on the other hand, had wedge-like slits surrounded by a green iris. Ink was confident that the emptiness found in his eyes indicated that nary a thought bounced around in the behemoth's mind. He was, however, exceedingly proficient in lifting heavy objects and finding those who did not wish to be found.
Knives, called Stabby by Sledge, had the gentlest eyes with hazel surrounding a circular black pupil. Sometimes, if Ink gazed long enough, wisps of smoke could bee seen drifting across the hazel as well. Though having the eyes and face of a Sternfolk, his Kindred build marked him as a Bastard. Now Ink had nothing against Bastards, after all they were just mixed lineages of two different ancestries. Ink did not understand why this was the name given to them, but arrived at the conclusion that others must simply be envious at the clear benefits of a mixed lineage.
"Ink are you paying attention."
Ink turned and faced towards Gale, who had clearly been talking this whole time and had a look of annoyance in her eyes.
"Apologies Gale, could you repeat the question?"
Sledge snickered as he finished the last of his redbread and Gale stared coldly into Ink's eyes. Hers too were unique, horizontal rectangles that were surrounded by yellow, but he fought the urge to dig more deeply into the pain present there. As one of the Cloudbeards, she stood roughly the same height as Ink with olive skin and a beard of vivid purple in a complex braid that Ink knew had meaning. Around her neck she also bore a fanciful pendant of an eye cast towards the sky surrounded by a circular helix of stylized lightning, marking her as one of the penitent of the Cult of the Matron.
"No question, you just looked dazed and your face colors were swirling. Now pay attention, I want to make sure we are all on the same page."
Ink resisted the automatic reply of 'Yes Teacher' that was typical of their youth and continued consuming the mush. It was unfortunate that Gale had correlated certain color patterns with thought patterns.
"As I was saying, I received an update from the dock master that we will be attached to a large shipment leaving this afternoon. The Guild plans to lash three barges together and the five of us will be responsible for getting it safely to Arx Boreas."
She cleared her throat before continuing.
"The expected travel duration is twenty days, so Knives I want you to make sure we have double that with a full month's worth of travel provisions. As a reminder, you are the designated guide on this convoy as there will be no other Myst Hunters present."
The bastard nodded in affirmation.
"Over the last month and a half, the Guild has lost over half its shipments on the route we are assigned."
She paused and grabbed at her beard before continuing.
"As of now, we have practically no information about these attacks other than they occur between the Caldera and the capital. None of the other canal lanes seem impacted including the parallel route from Arx Boreas to the Caldera. The Guild has not determined what these bandits are after. Our contract stipulates that we are to guard this convoy to its final destination of the Guild Docks in Arx Boreas. Questions?"
Sledge cautiously raised his hand, looking across the room at the others present before speaking.
"Ya, um, why are der so few mercs on da job? I mean, I'm gud inna scrap, but jus'da five o' us?"
Ink stared intently at Sledge and found themselves curious at the answer as well as Gale responded.
"The Guild believes this to be the work of small time bandits and the presence of bannered mercenaries should be adequate to dissuade them from attacking. Small groups are being attached to all convoys along this lane."
Sledge's hand stayed up.
"Go ahead Sledge."
"'N what if t'ain't jus' bandits? I 'eard tales o' all sorts'a monsta's in da mysts."
Gale narrowed her eyes some as Knives raised an eyebrow and looked over at Sledge.
"Then you and Knives will put your particular talents to work. Any other questions?"
Sledge's hand continued to remain aloft and Gale let the silence fully fill the room before acknowledging.
"Yes?"
"I got somet'in dat needs doin' roigt quick, can I borrow Silva?"
"Make it quick, the convoy is heading out just after 2. Silver you have the hand clock?"
Ink responded first.
"No I have it, I shall go along as well unless my presence is needed elsewhere."
Gale shook her head and simply stated.
"Get to it."