Disceroa, 1st of Budrise, year 179 BN
Path to Valewater
Ben walked alongside the carriage and found it difficult to keep up. He hasn't moved this much since the time he ran for his life back when he first left Evergreen. He was a guard then too, but those times were different, a lot different. Here he was with people he knew, even if he didn't get along with them currently. Not to mention they were long gone from Evergreen, so the chances of them running into some wild predator were slim.
Not that there was zero chance of an encounter, it just became rare when you were outside of Evergreen's region. He did hear about beasts popping up here and there all over the southern regions, but that was all it was rumors.
Looking to the left side, another man was walking alongside the carriage. Benjamin was his name, and from what Ben could tell the man was silent as a mouse. He's only heard him speak a few times since they departed Disceroa.
As for the others, Richard was seated on the front of the carriage leading the way to their destination, while Carl and the others were in the back of the carriage. Gazing at the carriage Ben saw Big Oar hop out. He had to talk to the guy, it would happen eventually but it was better to let things calm down a bit more.
No one was on his side here, he knew that but that wasn't important. His life was, and the bait Mitch hung in front of him was tempting. Go to Valewater, the task was easy and he could complete it. That was his key to freedom and it wouldn't be much longer now before he could taste it. The thought of not looking back at Disceroa crossed his mind, go somewhere Mitch would never look. But that was just it, wasn't it? Mitch knew that he'd run away the moment he could, that's why he told Ben he'd be free of all his debt.
That wasn't actually freedom, it was escape and Ben knew it.
Meanwhile, the others, Carl, Earl, and Big Oar had it easy. Being fed and given tales for their travel, meanwhile, he was doing all of this for free. Ben could see the look Richard gave him now and again, the man looked down on him. He didn't offer Ben anything, no payment, no work as a guard, nothing.
Was Richard better than him? No, he was just lucky.
Thinking about it didn't make Ben feel any better. "Huh?" He stopped and noticed the group came to a halt. Benjamin was raising his hand. Ben looked out wondering why, but he didn't see anything but a dust cloud. Dust cloud? Here of all places? That's when he saw it.
.....
Under the clear blue sky of the early morning, the plains seemed an endless green, until chaos descended. Richard’s group came to a jarring stop as a stream of people burst into view, their numbers uncertain amidst the chaos—perhaps ten, maybe forty—scattering across the open grassland. It was difficult to make out their faces from this distance, but they had torn and bloodied clothing whilst constantly glancing over their shoulder.
Benjamin, with a practiced eye, raised his hand, halting the carriage abruptly.
Behind them, a dust cloud rose like a storm, a harbinger of the true threat—a quartet of Aurochid, massive and unyielding, thundering across the plains. Mounted atop these beasts were soldiers, their armor glinting ominously in the sunlight.
Benjamin, observing the dust and the dread it heralded, frowned. "We must be close to the fighting," he remarked, a note of frustration in his voice as his tongue clicked against his teeth. The Aurochid were not a common sight, especially not here—these were mounts of war, used by soldiers, likely from Disceroa or Suncrest.
"Do you think there's a way around?" Richard asked, his voice steady despite the rising alarm.
"None that I know of," he conceded. "It's been ages since I've been this far out." His eyes shifted between the desperate people and the relentless pursuit of the soldiers. "Those are soldiers alright, but whose? That, I can't say."
Big Oar, stretched his massive hands, the sound of his knuckles popping breaking the tension. "About time something happened," he rumbled, a wild grin unfurling on his face.
The sight of people being trampled beneath the relentless advance of the soldiers caused Richard to come to a decision. There weren't that many soldiers from what he could see, just those four. But, those beasts they were mounted on top of were the reason he came to this decision. “We aren't fighting unless we need to,” Richard declared.
Carl, peering over the edge of the carriage spoke, “Looks like we'll need to, given the way things are looking,” nodding towards the chaos.
Earl, standing beside Carl added, "They're headed this way. Those soldiers have probably spotted us already.” Richard nodded in agreement, already seeing the direction the people were running towards. Their group was right in the path, and on these open plains, there was no escape.
Turning to Benjamin, Richard asked, “What can you tell me about those mounts?”
Benjamin’s eyes narrowed as he studied the Aurochid. “Slow, but durable,” he began. “They have natural armor, thick, dark scaly skin that can turn away blades and arrows alike. Their horns are like spears, and they’ve got a temperament that makes a cornered beast look docile.” He cast a glance towards Dave, the Verlpax. “They’re basically the opposite of Dave here.”
“And their weaknesses?” Richard pressed.
“Their bellies are less protected,” Benjamin conceded. “And they can’t turn quickly while charging. Too much weight and momentum.”
Ben, who had been quiet, spoke up, gesturing towards Dave. “Why are we just standing here then? Let’s run. They won’t catch us.”
“And in what direction?” Benjamin’s questioned. “The most we could do is head back to Disceroa, but if Valewater is our aim, we’ve got to get past this.”
Richard's gaze settled firmly on Ben, “We aren’t turning back, we’re a day or two from Valewater at most.” He looked around at the group, locking eyes with each member. “We aren’t seeking a fight, but we will defend ourselves if it comes to that.” His focus returned to Benjamin. “These are soldiers, aren’t they? For there to be only four, they’re either the vanguard of a larger force or rogues who’ve strayed from their unit.”
Benjamin, after a moment’s reflection, nodded in agreement. “Correct. And these won't be your rank-and-file soldiers. Only the elite or those with wealth ride Aurochids. Expect them to be well-equipped—with lances, shields, and throwing spears.”
Richard pondered Benjamin's expertise, the man seemed to possess a wealth of knowledge about the military—more than what one would expect from a simple monster hunter.
Benjamin, catching the inquisitive look from Richard, offered an unsolicited clarification, as though reading his thoughts. “Standard equipment for those mounted on Aurochids. There might be variations depending on the region, but that’s the common setup.” His explanation was matter-of-fact, betraying a familiarity with the subject that suggested a past deeply entwined with such matters.
Richard, processing Benjamin's words, found himself reassessing their defenses and the potential threats they faced. The knowledge that their adversaries were possibly elite, well-equipped soldiers on Aurochids. As he mulled over their options, the quiet of the morning was suddenly pierced by the sound of approaching footsteps.
The foremost runner, an elf with panic stark on his features, darted past, his blonde hair a stark contrast to the darkened soil beneath his fleet feet. His eyes locked with Richard's for a fleeting moment, a silent cry for help that was all the more desperate for its silence. He was no soldier, his hands bore no calluses of the sword or shield—only the softness of a civilian's life now shattered.
As the civilians surged past, Richard's mind raced through the implications of the scene unfolding before him. The fear etched on the civilian's faces spoke volumes of the brutality they had fled. It was a visceral fear that Richard recognized—not the fear of a soldier facing the enemy but the raw terror of the innocent facing the merciless.
None of them spoke a word of warning, offered no plea. Their survival instincts drove them forward, away from the pursuing soldiers.
As the others followed in kind, a stream of desperate humanity. Their gazes flitted towards Richard and his company, eyes wide with the silent question, "Friend or foe?" But like the first, they continued on, their instincts telling them that the mere handful of guards with Richard could offer little safety.
These were not the disciplined maneuvers of a tactical retreat. It was the flight of those who knew that to pause, to speak, to plead, could mean the difference between life and death. For these people to be running away, those soldiers must be from the other region.
Richard and the others were still in Disceroa territory from what he knew, so these people were likely residents in a village not far from here. Meaning those soldiers must be from Suncrest considering the distance and direction they were headed in.
Attacking people not involved was low, they had nothing to do with the conflict. But in a time like this where there were no rules to warfare, then anything went. But even if that were the case, no sane commander would send their troops out from formation to chase civilians. Richard's eyes narrowed as he thought about it. Raiders.
These men raided their village causing them to flee, it was the only reasonable explanation for why they were chasing after these people. Four soldiers weren't a lot so there probably were more, and these four were just here to have some fun or stain their hands red. Richard despised people like this, ones who got off on the suffering of others.
Any thought he had about negotiation went out the window. They'd rather see him bleed and buried than work out a way in which they benefited at little to no risk. If they were common soldiers that would have worked, but these people. To them, Richard and his goods would be a prime target.
Richard got down from the coach, he didn't know when but Carl and Earl had already positioned themselves at the carriage's flanks, hands on their weapons. That made him smile a little, perhaps Benjamin’s earlier reservations about them were misplaced. They were, after all, prepared.
Ben’s gaze, however, was flickering between the desperate civilians and the predatory soldiers—calculating, perhaps contemplating flight. Richard weighed the odds. Ben’s departure could spare him a potential betrayal, yet his sword arm in the upcoming fray could prove invaluable.
"Chances?" he asked, turning to Benjamin.
Benjamin gave an almost predatory grin. "Depends on if they’re pampered nobles or hardened veterans. Either way, we’ll take at least one down."
Richard knew what he meant. Those who were of the higher echelon and given their status due to their wealth always thought highly of themselves and looked down on all others. They'd take the deeds of others and claim them as their own. These type were less skilled and everyone hated them.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
He knew that better than a lot of other people. When he went out the fence with a butter bar that was always pushing paper at their desk. A lot higher rank than he was, so he followed him. But man was that officer a pain to deal with, no one could tell him anything until they started being shot at.
Clearing his head, he let the past remain there. That life was long gone, a whole universe or whatnot away. But inside he was hoping that they were that type, officers that preyed on the weak. Their lack of skill would make them easier targets compared to those who had earned their stripes through blood and grit.
At the rear of the carriage, Richard retrieved his longsword, its steel gleaming with a lethal promise. It was a weapon forged for protection, superior to the common iron that armed most men of this world.
"Form up, protect the carriage," Richard commanded, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of his authority. "It's unlikely, but I'll talk to them and see if we can get out of this. If not, prepare for a fight."
"And if they charge?" Big Oar's voice was like rolling thunder, his massive hands tightening around the haft of his axe.
“Evade and counter,” Richard responded, his eyes never leaving the advancing raiders. “Those beasts are slow to turn. If they charge, sidestep and strike for the belly. With any luck, both rider and mount will fall.”
The tremor of the earth under the pounding hooves of the Aurochid grew more pronounced as the raiders drew nearer. The civilians, their energy spent, had passed Richard’s caravan, leaving a tense quiet in their wake.
The raiders, seeing Richard and his guards arrayed in a protective stance around the carriage, slowed their approach. The leader, a man with a cruel sneer and eyes that gleamed with malice, raised a hand, signaling his men to halt. They obeyed, forming a line before Richard's group, the Aurochid snorting and stamping, unsettled by the sudden cessation of movement.
"You there," the leader called out, his voice carrying over the open field. "What business do merchants have traveling so close to a warzone? Or should I say, what business do spies have skulking about?"
Richard stepped forward, his grip on his sword firm but not threatening. "We are but humble traders, bound for Valewater with goods. We seek no quarrel with you or any other," he replied, his tone even.
The leader’s laugh, sharp and mocking, cut through the tension. “Goods? Is that what you call these trinkets?” he scoffed, eyes scanning the caravan with a predatory gleam. “Perhaps there’s something among your pitiful wares that might... ‘compensate’ us for the inconvenience of this meeting.”
His gaze then fell upon Dave, the Verlpax, a look of mock contemplation crossing his features. “Ah, but what do we have here? A rare beast, indeed. This creature alone might suffice as payment,” he mused aloud, the cruel twist of his smile widening. “I imagine it would make a fine snack for my Aurochid, wouldn’t it?”
The raiders behind him erupted in laughter, the sound echoing maliciously across the plains. They exchanged jeers and barbs, delighting in the imagined spectacle of the Verlpax being devoured.
Richard clenched his jaw, fighting to keep his rising anger in check.
“Your ‘troubles’ seem self-imposed,” Richard countered, voice steady but cold. “We are simple merchants, as I’ve said. The road is free for all to travel, and our passage harms none.”
The leader’s amusement faltered, replaced by irritation at Richard’s resilience. “Bold words for a merchant,” he sneered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword in a silent threat. “But boldness alone doesn’t fill one’s belly, nor does it protect one’s possessions. We shall see just how much your boldness is worth.”
The leader, with a dismissive wave of his hand, commanded, “Check their carriage. Let’s see if these ‘humble traders’ carry more than just air and bravado.”
Two of the raiders, eager to uncover hidden treasures or contraband, dismounted with the grace of men more accustomed to the saddle than to footwork. They approached the carriage, their eyes gleaming with the anticipation of spoils.
The raiders rummaged through the carriage, their frustration mounting as they found no goods within its main compartment. “Nothing here!” One shouted back to their leader, his voice a mix of confusion and annoyance. “Empty as a beggar’s cup!”
The leader turned his cold, questioning gaze on Richard. “What game do you play at, merchant? A spy would at least carry the guise of trade. Or is it that you’re so inept that you travel to war with nothing to sell?”
Richard, maintaining his composure under the leader’s scorn, attempted to explain. “Our goods are secured, not meant for the likes of thieves and raiders. If you can't find anything, that just means it wasn't for you in the first place."
The leader’s patience, however thin to begin with, snapped at Richard’s words. “Enough!” he bellowed, his voice carrying the finality of a judge’s gavel. “Your words are as empty as your carriage. Men, to arms!”
The raiders, with practiced coordination, drew their weapons. Richard's group tightened their formation as they readied themselves. Ben was here as well surprising Richard as the man didn't flee.
The leader, spurring his Aurochid forward, led the charge, his weapon—a long, menacing lance—poised to strike. The other mounted raider followed suit, his lance aimed at the heart of Richard’s defenders. The ground trembled under the weight of the charging beasts, their massive forms carrying a deadly momentum.
Richard, knowing the disadvantage of facing a mounted charge head-on, shouted, “Split and flank!” His guards understood instantly and moved. They dispersed, evading the direct path of the charging Aurochids, seeking to engage on more favorable terms.
Big Oar, with a roar, swung his axe with such force that it whistled through the air. His target, a raider who had underestimated the giant man’s agility, barely managed to deflect the blow with his shield, the impact reverberating up his arm. The force knocked him off the Aurochid sending him tumbling to the ground.
Ben hastily moved to the man Big Oar just downed, taking his dagger and ending the man before he could get up.
Carl and Earl, working in tandem, focused on a dismounted raider. Earl parried a thrust with his sword, while Carl found an opening, his blade slicing through the raider’s defense to find flesh. The raider stumbled back, wounded but not yet out of the fight.
Benjamin, his movements fluid and precise, engaged the leader directly. As the Aurochid bore down on him, Benjamin sidestepped at the last moment, his sword slashing upwards. The blade scored a shallow cut along the beast's underbelly, drawing a pained bellow from the creature. The leader, thrown off balance by the unexpected maneuver, struggled to control his mount, cursing as he circled back for another pass.
The leader, his focus narrowed on regaining control of his pained and enraged Aurochid, failed to notice the looming threat of Big Oar until it was too late. The massive guard, anticipation lighting his features, braced his feet against the soft earth, his grip on the axe tightening in readiness.
As the Aurochid, driven by pain and its rider's urgent commands, charged blindly forward, Big Oar unleashed his might. With a battle cry that seemed to shake the very air, he swung his axe in a wide arc. The leader, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of this new adversary, had only a fraction of a second to react. He attempted to raise his lance in defense, but the maneuver was sluggish, hampered by the unexpected assault and his mount's erratic movements.
The axe’s blade met the shaft of the lance with a force that sent shockwaves through the leader’s arms, shattering the wood and rendering the weapon useless. The continued momentum of the axe found its mark, striking the leader with a thud that resonated across the battlefield.
The leader hit the ground with a heavy thud, the air knocked from his lungs, his world a whirl of pain and disorientation. The leader’s Aurochid, now riderless and gripped by pain, became an agent of chaos. Its cries of distress ignited a primal panic among the remaining Aurochids, who, without the guidance of their riders, succumbed to instinctual terror.
The leaderless beasts, their massive forms heaving with fear and confusion, charged blindly across the field. Their first unintended target was Richard’s carriage. One of the Aurochids, in its blind rampage, collided with the carriage with devastating force. The impact was catastrophic, the carriage's structure giving way under the sheer power of the beast. The contents within—dye, wood, salt, glass, wine, furs, spices—were expelled violently into the open, scattering across the ground like the remnants of a shattered dream.
Dave, Richard's verlpax was calm during the fight and reacted immediately. The collision, triggered its instincts to flee the danger. With a powerful surge, Dave dashed forward showing off its superior speed.
The rampaging Aurochids, now fully ensnared in their panic, trampled indiscriminately over the spilled goods. Among the wreckage, the bronze box that Mitch had entrusted to Richard for delivery met its end. The iron chain that once promised protection was no match for the weight and might of the Aurochids. The box cracked open, its contents—a meticulously sealed scroll and a strange, luminescent stone—exposed to the chaos of the battlefield.
A horn blew, drawing their attention. Perched upon a hill was a group of men seated upon their Aurochid, with one rider bearing a flag for all to see. The symbol and colors were new to Richard, but from the faces the raiders were making he had a feeling they weren't allies.
The leader of the raiders, his pride was wounded more deeply than his flesh struggled to rise. With a bitter snarl, he signaled the retreat, his voice ragged but carrying the command of retreat to his men. “Fall back!” he ordered, the taste of the words like ash in his mouth. The remaining raiders were all injured, with one dead.
Running as best they could, they found their way to the rampaging Aurochid's and tried to mount them. Richard watched as the leader of the group pulled one of the men down from one of the massive creatures. The leader, casting a venomous glance Richard’s way, spat out a curse before wheeling the Aurochid around. “This isn’t over, merchant,” he vowed, before kicking his mount into a gallop, fleeing the scene with the remnants of his band.
Richard watched the man flee, along with the others. He saw no need to chase after them, but he did feel a pain of regret as he should have placed the carriage out of the way. There was no way they could take all of this to Valewater now, nor get items for a return trip. He cursed silently, he should have prepared himself better.
Turning his attention to the wreckage, he saw his dream fleeting. Maybe this was Gods, or whatever deity laid claim over this world's work. Telling him he wasn't meant to be a trader. He laughed dryly at that getting a stare from the others.
"Recover what we can," Richard told them as he began to move. His words did not need to be spoken to Ben who was already amidst the wreckage going over the items. Ben stood where the bronze box was destroyed, the sealed scroll, and the luminescent stone. He picked up the scroll, the seal, if it had one was broken. Before Richard got there, the man was already reading the scroll.
Ben must have heard footsteps, because he seemed startled. Turning he saw Richard, and then his eyes noticed the rest of them.
"Ben, what does it say?" Richard asked.
Ben looked over at the sound of hooves coming closer, the soldiers were descending and they would be here any moment now. "I'll tell you later, we have more pressing matters to attend to." Ben said as he motioned at the soldiers coming closer as he deftly tucked the scroll away.
His movements didn't slip past Richard's eye, he noticed this and Ben seemed to realize Richard wasn't going to let this go. Ben turned and dashed, towards the soldiers.
Richard was momentarily taken aback by Ben's sudden departure. "Wait, Ben!" he called out, but Ben had already fled and turned once more. The man was quick, Richard gave him that.
Cursing, Richard picked up the luminescent stone that pulsed green. As he held the stone up in the palm of his hand, a scroll of text was projected from the stone.
To His Esteemed Lordship, Lord Ike of Valewater,
With utmost urgency and under the cloak of confidentiality, I pen this letter to bring to your attention matters of grave significance that have recently come to light. It is with a heavy heart and a sense of duty that I divulge information that, if left unaddressed, could lead to dire consequences for Valewater and, indeed, for the very fabric of our alliances and loyalties.
Firstly, it has come to my knowledge through reliable sources that Lord Kirk of Evergreen, driven by a vendetta shrouded in betrayal and deceit, has orchestrated an assassination attempt on your life. This nefarious plot is scheduled to unfold on the 15th of this month, during the ceremony commemorating the founding of Valewater—a day when our guards are lowered in celebration and our spirits are high. The choice of this day for such a vile act is a testament to the depths of treachery Lord Kirk is willing to stoop to.
The motive behind this assassination stems from a discovery most unsettling. Lord Kirk has uncovered evidence of Valewater's covert support to Dustwell during the last skirmish between Evergreen and Dustwell. It has been revealed that Valewater supplied Dustwell with not only provisions and arms but also with strategic intelligence that directly contributed to Evergreen's defeats in several key engagements. This act of aiding an enemy, viewed by Lord Kirk as the ultimate betrayal, has ignited a desire for retribution that knows no bounds.
Moreover, I have obtained detailed intelligence regarding the current disposition of Evergreen's army, the remaining defenders, and strategic locations of significant import:
1. Evergreen's Army: Currently headed towards Thornhill, alongside their allies from Devilin. More than five thousand strong that are to regroup at Ultim village, just on the outskirts of Thornhill. With a small number set to be encamped at Vinsworth, just outside of Valewater awaiting a moment to strike.
2. Remaining Defenders: Evergreen had a lot of defenders stationed in the city, however, due to the skirmish that will spread between Evergreen and Thornhill, that is no longer the case. They have a small number of soldiers left in the city, with majority of their force heading into Thornhill territory.
3. Strategic Locations: Several locations within Valewater have been identified as vulnerable to sabotage or attack. These include the Valewater Bridge, the main supply route between Valewater and its outlying territories.
In light of this information, I urge you to take immediate and decisive action to safeguard yourself, your family, and the people of Valewater. Increased security measures during the upcoming ceremony are imperative, as well as a thorough investigation into the veracity of these claims. It is also advisable to consider a discreet inquiry into the loyalties of those within your court, for a plot of this magnitude could not have been conceived without internal assistance.
Let it be known that my loyalty to Valewater and its lordship remains unwavering. My only desire is to avert a crisis that could spell ruin for all we hold dear. I stand ready to assist in any capacity to ensure the safety and stability of Valewater.
With the highest regards and utmost sincerity,
Peter II of Thornhill, Confidential Advisor