Nearing the gate of Thornfell, it became apparent that the small town was now a lot more lively than it was an hour ago with people walking about excitedly. Those working at the farms were already heading over there in groups, talking about the supposed bountiful harvest they’d get this time or the news of the new farm walls that grow vegetables faster than expected.
“I guess building those extra growth-enhancing walls is about to pay off.” Regis noted as he watched the cheerful group walk by.
“A much needed invention, given our tight agricultural space.”
“We can always expand to the lowland area where the large clearings are, creating a smaller farming settlement.”
“That could be a good idea if the population grows further. According to Nina’s and Horace’s calculations, our current capacity, not including the new farm plots should be able to feed a bit over two hundred and fifty people with some additional produces for sale.”
“And with the new wheat and rye patches their bread related needs should get solved as well, I presume.”
“Yes, but we…”
“There you are!” Valerie cut into the steward’s words. “We were getting worried you’d be wandering off for the whole day.”
“It’s not even ten o’clock, Val.” The dark elf sighed as the go happy infernal and her brother neared them.
“Tell that to your people,” she replied. “As you can see, they’ve already turned most of Landwaker Square into a festival centre.”
“And on that note,” Fabien spoke up. “We could really use a fire pit like the one you created last time.”
“Roasted boar?”
“Splashed with ale and spices.” The infernal added.
“That sounds like a worthy cause to work toward.” Regis agreed as the four of them walked closer.
Landwaker Square did indeed turn into something akin to a renaissance fare.
There were cords tied between the different buildings and the arcane light posts with colourful cloth triangles hanging from them. Tarp covered wooden stalls got erected at the outer edge of the square just in front of the buildings. Busy people were walking by with baskets and small crates in hand. Chatter and laughter filled the air even so early into the preparations.
“Good morning, milord!” The dark elf heard from many people along the way, responding with a nod.
“This should be a perfect spot,” Fabien stopped a few metres in front of the inn. “It’s close enough not to walk too much when carrying the ingredients, but far enough that the smoke couldn’t bother the people inside.”
“If you say so, master chef.” Regis shrugged as he used his earth magic to recreate the firepit with the stone poles on both sides.
“Now that you’re done with the easy part,” Amanda said as she appeared out of the crowd. “You can come with us to the farms. The rest of the gang is already there, helping with the harvest.”
“You can’t expect his lordship to pick vegetables.” Tristan protested against the invitation.
“No one wants him to help with the harvest, but his presence is still expected by the people.”
“Looks like duty calls,” Valerie chuckled. “I’ll stay here with my brother to make sure the food is up to standards.”
“Figures.” The half giant blacksmith rolled her eyes as she and the dark elf headed out.
The fields outside Thornfell were bustling with life as both the farmhands and some helpful townsfolk were hard at work, gathering the bountiful harvest. Crates filled with large fruits and vegetables were stacked atop each other, Horace leading the people, issuing orders at the right time.
“Welcome,” he greeted the dark elf. “It’s a beautiful day for a harvest.”
“It is. How are we doing so far?”
“Far better than I imagined, judging by what we harvested so far and we are barely at a third of it.”
“Damn!” Amanda blurted out. “To think we’d manage to grow so much in just three weeks time.”
“It is quite the miracle,” Lithia noted from the side, joining them in watching the busy workers. “Surely that the Seven are looking at this harvest favourably and must have given their blessings on it.”
“Either that,” the half giant hummed. “Or Regis did a good job with those growth enhancing gizmos he got scattered all around the farm.”
“I’m sure that helped as well,” the priestess agreed with a gentle smile as she turned toward the young loremaster. “With such a bountiful harvest, would it be possible to bring a crate or two over to Hunor? I planned to ask Valerie to bring me over to visit Father Steon and the others. I’m sure they would welcome any donation you could give to them and the people.”
“Just talk with Tristan after the festival ends. We should be able to arrange something.”
“Of course,” the steward nodded. “We’ll prepare two crates to be delivered. That much shouldn’t cause any trouble, given such an unexpected yield.”
Regis picked up an apple that was larger than his fist from a nearby crate that was brought over from the orchard, casting charlatan’s wisdom on it.
{Apple}
{Plant rarity: common}
{Plant quality: decent}
{Crafting material/ Consumable}
{The juicy fruit of an apple tree. Can be consumed as is, cooked or harvested for its seeds.}
“A decent quality harvest,” he remarked. “I’m sure Fabien will be able to make something tasty from it.”
“Mrs Allie should be able to bake something good with it too.” Amanda added, her thoughts drifting toward some fresh apple pie.
“Anyway, I guess it will take some time until everything’s harvested.”
“With everyone working the way they do, it shouldn’t take more than two or three hours, sir.” Horace claimed, earning a nod from the dark elf.
“When will you be able to plant the next crop?”
“In a few days, a week at most.” The man said.
“Good. Thornfell’s counting on you all. If you...”
“Regis!” He heard a familiar voice call out to him as Grego rode toward him, pulling a second horse by its rein.
“What happened?” The spell weaver asked immediately.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“You’re needed at the mountain pass.”
“Then why don’t you use the gateway to get there faster?” Amanda looked at the guard captain questioningly.
“Because I don’t want to worry the people. There’s no point in the ruining the festival without a good cause.”
The dark elf got on the horse, following Grego in a decent galloping speed toward the distant mountain path. When they were far enough from the farms, he finally broke the silence.
“So what’s going on?”
“We seemed to have uninvited guests. Again.”
“Bandits?”
“Worse. Tax collectors.”
“The fuck?” Regis blurted out in surprise as he heard the unexpected answer. “We should we have brought Quentin long as well for this kind of situation?”
“He already rode ahead a few minutes ago after telling me to get you.”
“Good. We’re going to need him if we want to uncover this weird ass scheme. I mean seriously. Tax collectors? Out here?”
“And it started out as such a beautiful day.” Grego said jokingly as the two rode onward.
A good quarter of an hour later when they arrived at the mountain pass, they found Quentin and the guards waiting for them.
“What’s the situation?” He asked from the paladin, watching the man furrow his brows.
“Hard to tell,” Quentin replied. “They seem to be quite well dressed for bandits. But then again, tax collectors? Here?”
“Well there’s no point in keeping them waiting. Let’s find out who they are and what they really want. Open the gates!”
On the other side of the gates, eight horsemen, a fancy looking carriage and well equipped soldiers greeted them. The door of the carriage opened and a man dressed in a fancy silk doublet stepped out of it, walking toward them while escorted by a pair of guards.
“It was about time you opened up those gates,” the man remarked as he pulled out a parchment from a small silk satchel so that he could read out its contents. “By the mandate of the ruling royal dynasty of the kingdom of Ecragurne, we are here to officially collect the annual taxes. You are to cooperate without hesitance or you shall be subjected to the appropriate punishment. Failure of paying the annual taxes will incur severe penalties and...”
“Quentin.” The dark elf sighed as he took a sideways glance at his companion.
A bright circle of light pushed out from beneath the feet of the paladin, surprising both the well-dressed man and his guards. The light stopped at roughly seven meters away from him, its power settling down on everyone’s shoulder within its boundary like a heavy rock.
“Who are you?” Quentin asked firmly.
“My name is Dima Colesnic.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m here to collect the annual... to collect taxes.” The man struggled to answer as light grey smoke wafted out of his mouth.
“And who sent you here to collect those taxes?”
“It was...” The man tried and failed to answer as he began to groan and cough, black smoke coming out of his mouth.
By this time, the rest of the guards got off from their horses, drawing their weapons, but a set of crossbow bolts struck the ground before their feet. They stopped and looked at the guards atop the battlements of the mountain pass warily.
“Who sent you?” The paladin repeated the question with more force in his voice, finally earning an answer. “It was the third prince.” Dima answered, coughing and eyes wide with horror as he realised his folly.
“Well,” Regis sighed as he looked at the tax collector. “In that case, you can tell the third prince that he can forget about his little annual tax scheme. If you rode here along the old road then you must have seen the border stones a good twenty kilometres ago. That’s as far as Ecragurne’s authority spreads. This is a neutral territory. According to the treaty of the three kingdoms, it belongs to no one and thus, taxes to know one.”
“But the taxes of the trades you...”
“For the record, I’m a loremaster and one that’s quite well versed in the law, so please don’t waste the time of either of us with this farce. If you keep insisting on following the third prince’s orders, then I will take that as an affront and will bring the matter up at the Annual Lords’ Gathering at which I was invited as an ‘independent’ lord.”
His words brought even more terror onto the tax collector’s face, the man stumbling back out of the glowing circle.
“We are leaving.” Dima stated, earning a stunned look from his guards.
“But the prince...”
“Silence! We are leaving.”
With that, the man got back into his carriage and left, followed by his entourage.
“Quentin,” the spell weaver called out to his friend while they watched the carriage leave. “What’s the chance of this coming to bite us in the ass later?”
“Seeing how you just told some scheming royal’s puppet to fuck off in a rather law-abiding way, I’d say it’s pretty high.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.” The paladin agreed with the sentiment.
“Let’s just get back to Thornfell. Grego, once we’re back, tell the others to go light on the ale. Send back someone to switch with the guards here during the afternoon. Everyone deserves to experience some of the festive mood.”
“Understood.” The guard captain nodded while the trio of guards atop the gates cheered up after hearing the dark elf’s statement.
They rode back to town, finding it still as loud as before. A few baskets had already been brought back from the farms, filled with samples from the harvest. The people were laughing and their good mood couldn’t help but rub off on the dark elf. He watched as Fabien worked beside the firepit, a large boar sizzling atop the pit as the infernal splashed it with some ale.
Regis accepted a cup of wine from one of the fairer townsfolk, drinking it slowly over the next hour as he greeted people from time to time. As the sun slowly moved higher in the sky, the rest of the workers arrived as well, along with Letty and Willow. The recently born dryad earned quite a few surprised gazes, but her creator walking next to her made the people less wary than expected.
“Looks like everyone’s here,” Tristan remarked from the side with Nina agreeing. “I believe it’s time for you to say whatever speech you’ve prepared for the occasion before harvesting the Landwaker’s fruits.”
“A speech?” The spell weaver muttered as he realised that he hadn’t prepared anything of the sort.
‘I guess I’ll have to wing it then.’ He thought as he decided to walk toward the middle of the square, right next to the barrier. The people of Thornfell noticed this sudden movement and quieted down, eagerly watching him meet the wood elf halfway toward his goal. To everyone’s surprise, he took her by the hand, leading her over to the tree as the barrier faded. Once they were standing right next to it, he turned toward the now silent crowd and cleared his throat.“I’m glad to see that so many of you have decided to join us today. I’m glad to hear the laughter and the music that fills this place now.”
Here his cheerful tone turned somewhat sombre.
“Although not many of you might know this, it wasn’t that long ago when my friends and I arrived here, searching for a safe place to call home. Looking at it now, I doubt anyone would believe that we only found ruins and ashes here.”At this point he looked at Letty, then to the large tree behind him.
“At the place of the beautiful tree you’re looking at right now, there was only a dried-out and blackened husk at the centre of this square. It took us quite some effort to get rid of that cursed tree, a certain someone even losing a finger temporarily.”
“Hey!” Letty huffed. “And yet, we decided to stay and make the best of what we had. Through the following weeks, wave after wave of people joined us as we not only rebuilt this place but expanded it into the town it is today. Although we had harvests before, this one is special. Today is not only the first time we harvest the fruit of the Landwaker tree which is the heart of Thornfell, but it’s also the day our first druid ascended, along with gaining a guardian dryad.” Here the spell weaver turned toward Letty and Willow, applauding the two which the crowd joined in as well.
“You should also mention your ascendancy to the third tier as well,” Druig spoke up loudly from the front row of the crowd with a tankard of ale in his hand. “That’s also quite an achievement too.”
“Wha...” Letty stuttered as she looked at him along with the rest of the baffled crowd. “You’ve advanced to the third tier?”
“I kind of wanted to surprise you later, but... yeah, I did.”
“Congratulations, mate!” Quentin said with a genuine smirk as he raised his own mug in the air. “To Letty and Regis!”