The expedition rolled right up to the village square, making a ruckus and drawing the eyes of the people all around.
Unlike the outside of the walls, not a single one of their buildings remained unmolested by the arts of the youth that Matti had talked about. At least Livia felt inclined to hope it was the youth, because the pieces clearly needed some work.
One notable exception was in the town square where a busy inn seemed to be serving lunch to be enjoyed in the evening sunlight. The side of that building had a spray-painted scene of a tavern wench with a jolly expression serving tankards of foam to the waiting, eager crowd.
Livia had not been prepared for this. The picturesque look of Salcret had made her picture Dormata and its suburbs as more of the same, but it was clearly in the midst of an identity crisis. What seemed like a more basic version of Salcret underneath was merely the canvas of what you saw.
Everywhere you looked there was a slogan, or a tag of some sort, interspersed only by the occasional attempt at something more realistic or even artistic. Scenes of battle, or making merry, even of different magic creatures. But it was all amateur in execution compared to the inn’s piece.
They went to park in an open spot near the middle, and it did not take long for the local merchants to approach. But the [Guild] had turned sour on Solhem and did not feel at all inclined to barter before getting settled.
Redd made it known he had disliked his treatment at the gates, and the few who noted it scoffed at the local delinquents making things harder for everyone, but ultimately let the mood settle before attempting any push for their goods.
First things first they went to negotiate rooms for tonight. The inn had another building next to it with plenty of beds, but the raucous goings on next door would likely make it barely adequate unless you stayed up late. Even then it was hard not to look forward to the chance at a proper bed.
After that everybody got settled, but Livia wanted to check around for a bit. Meanwhile she made a mental list of the tasks they wanted done before continuing from here. Check the market prices, offload one of the carts, sell one of the draft animals, check the level of interest in our wares, learn of any competing caravans we might want to push past or keep ahead of, hm. What else? Oh, right. A healer.
Elin, her [Accountant], was nice enough to tag along. “Your timing was great Livia, I’m glad Oscar’s alright. I’ve never heard of such tolls at the very first gate coming out the wilderness before, I would have warned you,”
Livia squeezed her arm lightly. “Don’t worry, I know that. It must be something new. In fact, let’s check.”
Having entered the busy tavern-part of the inn, with the two young girls hardly being noted, Livia pushed up to the bar and asked a [Merchant]-looking man outright: “Hey there, sorry to be a bother, do you mind sharing if you entered through the south gate?”
Despite being mid-sip, the man turned to her with a smile, seemingly pleased to talk to a fellow traveler rather than the loud rabble of Solhem that crowded the tables all around. “Oh, not at all. We came from the east. Yes, I know. Six silver a head, for such a small stop? Outrageous. But apparently there’s been trouble in the area, and it’s still not war-time prices so I suppose it is hard to complain,”
So that didn’t add up. Livia and Elin, soon joined by Harold and Kalle, spent an hour fraternizing at the inn, hearing all the latest gossip. They’d arrived in the evening, so by now it was just as well if they left the few trades they planned on for tomorrow.
What they learned was that the southern part of town was the so-called ‘bad’ part, and the family in control of the gates had recently switched to one of the… More ambitious lot.
The southern gate had the least traffic, and so they’d had the brilliant idea to times the toll by six. Making it the roundly convenient number of 36 silver. Not to mention the attempts to force deals on people.
The bad news was that they often succeeded, if the targets found it was too hard to argue. But then again you could always go around to one of the two other gates. But despite them being controlled by other families, it was still a point they had to hold fast to, that someone coming along the wall to escape a toll had to be asked to turn back.
To get around it you had to go back around for hours and make your approach properly, to provide them with at least some plausible deniability.
Of course Livia’s first question was why the town leadership did not do something about it, if it was affecting merchants traveling through. But the simple truth of it was they’d been far too busy dealing with all the graffiti that was so clearly changing the town for the worst, and there just hadn't been enough complaints yet. Another thing to add to the list tomorrow I suppose, in case the other caravan from Salcret took this route, but if they heard word of the alarm to muster from Brunner then I'm sure they risked the mountain bears.
The funny thing to Livia was how the first travelling [Merchant] they talked to was clearly just talking derogatorily about the quality of the art, and not the presence of it. In fact he interspersed his critiques with examples from his own hometowns, of artists who could do it better, and who had started to make a name for themselves on the competitive, burgeoning scene present in the capital.
It was a detail completely missing from the books Livia had read, and so for better or worse she was looking forward to seeing what had been made of Mr Beard’s beloved home-city.
[If they’ve done to Dormata what they have here, I will start the search for a means to turn myself off. Promptly. Permanently if necessary.]
They would have kept going until it was time for bed, but after Livia’s third drink of the local beer–there was a sudden commotion in the square.
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It felt good to be back in a town. Although Sten’s feet had already been feeling lighter and lighter the further he got from his family back home.
His biggest worry right now was their wounded guest. She hadn't subjected them to any more of her episodes after that first time, but she’d started muttering in her unconscious state on occasion, and it was clear she was slowly getting slightly better.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Hopefully a healer would know what to do, so that was the first thing Sten went to search for after throwing his sack in one of the rooms.
The streets were mostly lined by the regular houses of busy families, with the distinction of having their walls covered in the… Art. But there was also the occasional shop; it was evident soon enough that this town must see a lot of traffic, despite its size. Their entrance had hardly been remarked upon, while in Salcret this many strangers would have been big news.
Eventually he found a place that smelled right, and so he entered, hoping to find an experienced healer on the level of Agnes back home.
What he found was a man who certainly looked the part, with a lined face and spectacles, in a room full of familiar bottled tinctures and all sorts of myriad remedies.
Sten improved his already perfect posture and then put his hands behind his back before speaking. “Hello sir, sorry to disturb you. I was wondering if you might have the time to lend aid, we discovered a wounded warrior on the road,” The man did not look up from scribbling his notes, but he nodded and so Sten went on. “I am part of a caravan, so your fee will not be an issue, and I am sure the woman herself will also be grateful, and she is certainly high level,”
The man ignored that too, but he did finally respond. “What wounds.”
It was not a question. He was only telling Sten what came next.
“Oh, right. None, sir. Ehm, we have a [Druid] you see, he has dealt with the physical wounds, but she has still not woken up except for short bursts of mania, and her spirit wavers between improvement and decline,”
When the man did not respond this time, with a minute passing, Sten felt forced to go on. “I have some little experience, and it is not normal, is all I know. We have a high level person of our own, and he agrees that her movement is strong.
“If your [Druids] magic has done all it can, and if enough days have passed that her physical condition is stable–then there is naught left for me to do. I am no [Mind Doctor]. But I wish you luck, that much is free, after all.”
Sten was surprised at first, but then he understood the issue. If her mind was the source of the problem then very few specialists would be able to help them, and certainly not for cheap. In fact Kalle might be one of their better bets, but his ability did not work on someone who was unconscious.
Sten left the house without the man having even looked up once.
Back on the street he noticed again how the… Art covering the houses was so surprisingly widespread. In fact he even spotted a couple of teens busy going at it on the back of one of the emptier houses, emptying a pair of cans making the characteristic click-clacking marble noise–with a smaller kid loudly complaining about the smell. Apparently he lived there. I wonder what this means for the martial arts scene, if things are even worse in Dormata.
His father had taken him to compete in tournaments there in his youth, twice. He had not won, but he’d gotten close, and learned a great deal. Iron sharpens iron after all. And there was plenty of access to iron in Dormata. But he had noted even back then how the scene was growing more and more elitist. Maybe this is the counter-reaction, if all these teens have gotten pushed out for not reaching the bar.
He was headed back to the square where they’d parked the carts, when his musing was suddenly interrupted by the loud, familiar voice of his wounded charge. “Where have you take me, where Johnny? Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
The woman was standing in the back of her cart, yelling at the top of her lungs. Redd was there, having stayed to keep an eye on things while the rest got settled, but Livia, Kalle and the rest were already streaming out of the tavern.
The woman was still going mad, as the [Guild] started surrounding her, trying to get her to calm, while letting Livia do the talking while also firing off her [Conflict De-escalation] Skill full flare.
“We found you on the abandoned battlefield, only you,” It was almost impossible to get a word in, but it seemed like the woman was hearing her. “You were wounded, severely. We tried our best to help, please, stop and listen,”
She did not, and a crowd was quickly forming, making her feel even more trapped despite her levels.
That was when Kalle made the mistake of stepping closer, slightly intoxicated, and blasting [Esper’s Balm] full force.
She had surged across the cart and broken his nose within a second, and he fell back with blood spurting. But Redd was there and in between them, near equally fast.
He hindered her, but did not control her; it was far from his first time dealing with a wounded vet. She felt his strength and backed up in the cart again. They were almost of a height, with her standing tall in it, but Redd could tell she was probably stronger. She certainly had an unadulterated combat-Class.
When she noticed that the Spell had stopped she sank down on her heels, holding her head and muttering. Which did not seem like a good sign, but at least she had stopped yelling.
They needed to solve this quick. An unhinged higher level person made folks very nervous, very swiftly.
Livia knew Sten had been making the healing thing a priority, so she checked with him first. “Sorry, there was no luck Livia, the healer was adamant he could do nothing about issues of the mind,"
Now she spotted what looked like a local authority figure approaching. “What is this nonsense? Is one of your members sick in the head or something,”
Livia had to think fast. “Uhm, no. She is simply wounded and distraught still, from the battle to the south, she is not sick. Look, she is calm,”
Of course that was when she let out another shrill “FUCK.”
Yeah. The Finn man was not having it. And Solhem had enough trouble without allowing it from strangers.
“Please, can we at least stay the night? We have been on the road for weeks,”
The man looked at the woman closer then, and then again at the size of Redd, who it had seemingly taken to stop her. “The answer is no.”