Curious faces stared at the smiling man who was walking through the busy streets of the town. The noise of men at work and hawkers calling aloud, trying to attract customers to their stands overpowering his senses. The explosion of sound and light that happened upon entering the town was often enough to daze a traveler, who had been out too long in the darkness of the chasm. But he was well traveled and continued his relaxed pace, returning every wave from the many he received from a passerby. The street was lined with lanterns similar to his own, but much larger in size and in number.
Two men wearing loose light-gray cloth and sparse leather padding, the latter only over their wrists and a small patch over their forearms, accompany him at his sides; long spears held over their shoulders. His vision wandered to the two young men escorting him, neither was barely of age. They stood unnaturally upright and rigid in their attempt to act as honor-guard, he could practically feel the tension in his own muscles as he stared at the nervous teenagers. “You don’t have to accompany me, you know, I know the way,” he sleepily mentioned, waving one of his hands with only droll intensity.
“We must. As- As captain of the town guard I insist!” cried the young man to his right with a shaking voice.
“Eh…” mumbled the tall man, giving him the once over. “Okay, if it makes you feel better,” he sighed. “What’re your names, boys?”
“Lamm,” croaked the one to his right.
“Schaf,” squeaked the other one, his voice not having reached manhood, as quickly as his body had.
He nodded and stopped, placing a large hand on each of the men's shoulders, staring curiously at the younger one. He didn’t think it possible, but he felt their muscles growing stiffer beneath his grasp and laughed, they looked at him in uncertainty. “Okay then uh, Lemm, Schip.” He patted their shoulders “Take it easy. I know you guys don’t get many visitors these days. Everything is fine,” he topped off with a yawn.
“W- would you like to rest for the night?” cried Lamm out, before the smiling man was halfway through.
The smiling man shook his head and continued walking. Noticing that they were a step behind, Lamm and Schaf jumped up the two steps and reattached themselves to his sides, both of them having to walk in awkwardly quick steps in order to keep up with his long, steady strides. Cries from the streets announcing the arrival of this strange visitor rang from one corner to the next, being propelled with each iteration with increasing excitement and fervor.
“Is it good news?” whispered a robed woman to another.
“It must be, look at him.” Excited whispers followed him together with the growing crowd of people behind, trailing him in the distance.
“Oi, Journeyman!” A voice rang out from the stalls to his side.
The smiling man looked to the side, towards a single wooden stall he was passing by, both men jumped in-front of him holding their spears ready. The shop-keep laughed at the sight of the two young men standing in-front of the towering giant behind them. “Don’t speak to the journeyman you old bastard!” crooned out Schaf.
“Jump in the pit, Schaf! I took you out of your mother and I’ll shove you back up her dead arse!” cried the vendor, shaking his fist at the fuming guard.
The smiling man looked at the shop-keep for a moment “Oh?” He thought for a moment before uttering another loud “OH!” The smiling man raised his hand and pointed at the short bearded man behind the wooden stall. “You’re old as shit now! I didn’t recognize you!” and began laughing with all the energy he hadn’t shown yet. He pushed Lamm and a grimacing Schaf to the side and approached the vendor.
“Easy for you to say, you tall handsome bastard. Always wearing that mask,” laughed the vendor, looking up to the smiling man. “How’ve you been Bock?” asked the smiling man.
“How do I look?” asked the vendor tugging on his own long and unkempt beard “That’s how I’ve been!” They both laughed and exchanged a half-hug, bending over the counter to reach each other. Lamm and Schaf looked at each other for a moment, unsure of what to do now. Looking around, they saw the crowd of curious eyes beginning to encircle them so they turned towards the gathering mass and held them at bay instead.
“Keep some distance. The journeyman isn’t here for you people,” cried out Lamm, flailing his spear around towards the crowd, the tip reflecting the bright oranges lights from above.
A series of laughs escaped the crowd at the spectacle of the young man who was holding a spear that was far too large for him to even carry well. The smiling man looked back at the two before, turning his gaze back to the salesman. “Things haven’t changed much around here I see.”
“You know how it is, the more things change, the more they stay the same,” shrugged the man.
“Though…” the smiling man looked around. “I wasn’t expecting you all to have bounced back this well.”
“Yeah, it’s been a lot of work,” said the man, flexing one of his old, thick arms. But things are getting back to the way they were before.”
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“How long has it been?” asks the shop-keeper.
“Nine years on the day,” said the tall man, looking upwards into the vast darkness above.
“No shit? Well you’re as punctual as always.”
“Of course, I have a job to do after all,” said the smiling man. “I am glad you are well.”
“Yeah well, some of us didn’t have the ability to run away up and out,” said Bock, his gaze narrowing.
“Yes,” said the smiling man, “I guess you didn't.” The air was heavy and silent, save for the excited whispers of the crowd. The smiling man turned to return to his route. “It was nice seeing you again.”
The vendor only stood there quietly, his arms crossed and the smiling man walked ahead on his own, the crowd in front of him parting to make way as he approached. Lamm and Schaf, once more noticing they were being left behind, stumbled through the gap closing up behind him, pushing people to the side to reach the smiling man and to stand again at his side. Both were yelling and snarling at the many onlookers who dared to come too close to the man, or to look too curiously at him.
“We’re almost there Mr. Journeyman, the magistrate's home is just ahead,” said Lamm.
“Yes, thank yo-,” Something tugged at the large bag he carried.
“Hello!” cried a small voice.
The smiling man turned around, searching for the voice behind him. Looking down he saw a small head, covered in thick, wavy hair covering the curious expression of the young boy with wide eyes. He wasn’t more than eight, thought the man. “Good evening!” he replied.
“You look weird. Why?” asked the child, curiously. A loud crack rang out and the boy flew to the ground. Lamm stood between the boy and the smiling man, his fist still in the air, a trickle of blood on the edge of his thick leather gloves.
“How dare you touch the journeyman, you rat!”
The crowd went quiet save for the boy’s confused screams and crying. The tall man cocked his head. An exhausted looking woman in a tattered dress, covered in many stains from her work, pushed through the crowd and ran next to the crying child. Fearfully she looked up to the smiling man and the guards before her and fell down to the ground.
“Please forgive my foolish child, he meant no harm,” she groveled. “Please,” she begged.
“The punishment for insulting and attacking the journeyman is death,” cried out Lamm, raising his spear to the ready. The crowd was silent save for the odd gasp, Schaf swung out his spear towards them “Get back you animals,” he cried. “Please, forgive us!” screamed the woman clutching the screaming child to her breast. “Hey…” drolled out the smiling man, now becoming annoyed at the guards. “Stand down, unless you both want to come with me to Neuntel.”
A frenzied murmur went through the crowd. Both of the men stepped back without a single complaint at the threat and returned to their original, overly rigid states at his sides, their eyes intense and fearful. The tall man shook his head and walked over to the woman and knelt down before her. “Keep an eye on your kid. Did you forget you live by the pit?” he stared at the terrified woman, who was wildly clutching at her child, as if her life depended on it.
“I’m sorry! Mr Journeyman, it won’t happen again! I swear!”
The smiling man got up satisfied. He didn’t believe in all of this nonsense, he thought the whole thing was really overblown. But the spectacle was important, more for higher nobility than for any such meager person as himself. “Okay then,” he shrugged indifferently and then hushed the woman off with a lazy wave of his hand. Needing no more words, she took the child and holding the still screaming, flailing creature to her breast, she sprung up and ran off into the crowd. The tall man looked at the two guardsman and walked on down the road, shaking his head just a little. Quietly, they turned to follow him.
As they went down the brightly illuminated road, a trail of inquisitive people at their heels, the tall man looked around the town at every opportunity he got. The few tight streets were lined with compact wooden stalls. Stone-wrought houses with dark wooden beams slicing through them, all wedged tightly together towards the further off cliff-side. Towards his left he saw the extension, the large wooden scaffolding teetering over the edge of the chasm. Stalls, people and houses coated the wooden construction, indifferent to the theoretical danger. A group of men stood near the edge, heaving wrapped bodies from a pile down into the abyss.
The smiling man shuddered looking at it, angling his walk slightly further towards the right side of the street. The people down here were still as uptight as ever, he thought.
“I’m surprised you are all doing so well since then,” he said to the men following him.
“Yes!” cried Lamm, still struggling to keep up with the man's pace. “Since then, we’ve been blessed with good fortunes by the gods, as compensation for our suffering. All of the other cities, even Erstel haven’t progressed like we have!” he said with words prouder than his own appearance.
Raising his arm he motioned towards the extension, towards several long wooden arms extending out even further into the bleak. The smiling man looked towards it and saw them. Great wooden blades filled with a white cloth, as if from windmills, hanging off the edge of the abyss and facing the empty below horizontally. They spun with fervent intensity, their motions moving a series of mechanisms and wheels. Each connected to ropes and chains spanning in dozens of different directions.
“That’s why. Those damned winds carrying that foul stench is always around. So we thought we’d put it to work.”
“Hoh?” Said the smiling man with deep revelation in his voice. “Very impressive,” he nodded to the young man, who somehow managed to stand up even straighter at the praise.
“Yes, the mechanisms they turn make most everything easier for us to do. Millers, smiths, the stoneworkers. Everybody benefits in some fashion from the pit mills.” They stopped their walk, as they reached a relatively large plaza. In the middle sat a round stone pedestal, elevated off the ground by several steps. On the far side was a long, but thin house, a cracked stone staircase leading up to the regal door.
Schaf turned to the smiling man “This is where our magistrate, lord Brennen resides.”
“Brennen?” asked the smiling man in response. “Ah, so Kohle has left us?”
“Lord Kohle was lost during the crisis,” said Lamm, lowering his voice progressively with each word.
The smiling man began up the stairs. “Ah, I see. Go home you two, I have many things to discuss with your lord.” The two young men looked at each other and took their positions, one at each side of the staircase and faced the street that they had come down, eying down the now large crowd that had pursued them all this way.
From the top of the stairs, the smiling man looked down at the two young men and the crowd and muttered to himself, wondering why young people were so uptight down here these days. Though he already knew the answer. Grabbing the large copper handles of the door, he flung them open without knocking and entered the home of the regent.