More hours passed as the group walked, and while Gregor laid on edge the whole time, the supposed footsteps he had heard slowly faded away. Perhaps it was his imagination, like what Lockheed had mentioned earlier as he lagged behind the group. Lockheed couldn’t hear it, and he was closer to where they were coming from.

He kept the thoughts of it close as the path they walked on slowly became more inhabited. The stone path seemed more well taken care of now, with fewer stones free from the cement and newer stones in general. A few people eventually shared the road, passing by with wagons or with their bounty of crops. Even a few Anweos soldiers walked by, eyeing Cymia with a suspicious look. Daniel seemed thrilled. “We must be close to Timberrock, which means we made it back into the Anweos border. We’ll be safe from Briarteal soldiers, at least. Timberrock is pretty damn close to the Briarteal border, so it should be well guarded. I wouldn’t worry about any attack as long as we’re here.”

“If Anweon is neutral, why would they need to defend from Liberation forces?” Cymia asked, uncomfortable by the gaze that the soldiers had given her. It seemed they had some bias. Alice chimed in, knowing full well why. “Briarteal and Anweon… don’t get along, let’s say. We have common ancestors, a common language and for the most part the same history. I’m sure you know that the tensions here were high even before the First War. It’s all because Briarteal doesn’t see Spencer as the rightful founder of Anweon.”

Spencer was a mythical figure known throughout Lepthalys, and the supposed founder of the Anweos capital of Merla and, in tandem, Anweon. The Spencerson family derive their name from him, as they’re supposedly descendants of him. People of Briarteal believe that Spencer wasn’t the true founder, and had simply taken the credit for the work of the warlords that led the tribes both kingdom’s lands consisted of prior to Anweon’s founding. It’s for this reason they denounced the Spencersons and broke off from Anweon during the early 4th era, almost 400 years ago.

“Most of the people I’ve wrangled up for terrorism were from Briarteal.” Daniel sighed. “I know they’re not all bad. Sometimes it’s hard to see past the bad in people, but in the end everyone’s hearts began on the same path.”

“I kinda wished the Briarteal reinforcements came in time when we busted out, woulda been fun to bust a few of their heads, especially considering the puny ships they call a navy challenging the might of Scalsa.” Knox spoke to himself as the tall silhouette of a church formed down the road. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Timberrock.” Daniel displayed with his hands before increasing his pace. The others followed as the sounds of a town began to ring through their ears.

They passed a few farms far out into the countryside, the rolling hills coated in golden wheat and a rainbow of vegetables. A few children were playing on the side of the road as the gates of the town came before them. The metal bars were rusted, but they were trapped between two large pillars of stone that connected to a gray wall that surrounded the inner town. An Anweon soldier stood outside, with a second on the watchtower jutting out from one of the pillars. There’d normally be more, but the next patrol of guards were still on their way from the barracks to replace the exhausted and bored ones which remained. The ground guard approached them, the steel armor accented with a pearl like color. The sallet styled helmets jutted out in the back of them, a visor covering the guard’s mouth and chin. The physique of the guard closer to them seemed feminine, but the large chestplate and overexaggerated shin guards made determining that near impossible until she spoke.

“You’re not locals, Please state your business.” The female guard’s voice was commanding, but not hostile. Daniel went to take a step, but Alice budged in front of him. She shuffled through her satchel before pulling out a medallion. “We’re here on official business. The Spencersons request that you let me through.” A tortoise’s shape was engraved into it, the shell coated in pearl as the rest of the animal lay in gold surrounded by the silver that made the rest of the medallion. It was the royal crest of the Spencersons, the tortoise representing their family’s resilience and undying wisdom. She also held up a photo of a younger her taken with the other living Spencerons, mostly to help confirm she wasn’t lying.

The guard’s eyes, still visible through the visor, lit up with realization. She slowly took a few steps back before turning to the other guard. “Open the gates!” She called out fast before turning back. “My lady, It’s been a great while since a Spencerson visited us. Shall I make an announcement?” She seemed thrilled as she looked through the rest of the group. “Perhaps we may find a place for your guests to stay?”

The group looked at each other, speechless. Alice might not have money, but when you can flaunt your notoriety around who needs a few bills?

“That won’t be necessary. We have reason to believe that there are those around who don’t have our best intent in mind. There’s no need to help us with our stay, either. That would simply draw attention. Please keep quiet about this…” she said, in a voice silently begging. Gregor’s new demeanor almost immediately shifted to disappointment, as he thought he’d be able to save the inn room money he had ‘worked’ so hard for.

“Of course, my lady!” The guard bowed slightly as the second one opened the door. He was tired, and hadn’t heard the talk and so thought his comrade was overreacting to nothing. The large bars creaked as the gates swung inward, the bustling town now before them.

“I must ask, the last time I was here I was a little girl, there were no walls. Why were they built?” Alice asked out of curiosity. “Same as always… fear.” The guard’s voice now seemed tame, but only for a second before she motioned to the town. “Welcome to Timberrock, my lady! I do hope that you enjoy your stay!”

As the group filed in, the guard eyed each of them, her demeanor not changing even for Cymia as she walked by. It seemed not everyone thought the same about the Bogans. Cymia suddenly felt a little safer inside the town. The guard on the watchtower looked down, seeing people being let through. “Hey, what happened to checking identification!? Captain Bjorn would’ve had your skull if he saw that, you know how Barrylanders get when they’re disobeyed!”

“None of your concern, Gil.” The female guard replied, already keen on keeping the royal family’s promise. The watchtower guard shrugged, it was none of his business unless he was grouped into it punishment-wise. “Letting 8 people in at once is a little sketchy though, considering they obviously weren’t a single family unit.”

Her head perked up as she winced in confusion. “You must be dying of heatstroke up there in your armor, because there were 7 of them. 5 humans, a Scalsan and a Bogan.”

“No, I counted 8. Maybe you’re just going nuts, Sheron. It would explain letting so many in to begin with after only getting ID from one…” his last bit trailed off as he went back to his business of dozing off, the female guard turning around as the tired looking guard closed the gates, grunting as he pulled the chain to them. She was right, it seemed. There were only 7.

The town was alive and ripe with the harvest season’s end. The market was bustling with vendors not only selling their crops, but a variety of smiths, tinkerers and merchants sought to make a buck. Women with clothes and embroidery, old people selling things they don’t need anymore and children with their arts and crafts. The circle of stands was flooded with the churning ocean of shoppers, budging and shoving into each other as the group walked straight towards it. “Watch your wallets…” Lockheed said as they entered the crowd.

As Alice walked through she was harassed by people attempting to sell their wares. As she passed by each one, gently turning them down, she eventually got irritated as her voice grew more demanding with each passing salesman. She finally made it through the sea of sellers, but not before exchanging a few not-so-kind words with someone claiming that their oil treatment would prevent any disease. Everyone knows that only a vaccine could do that.

Slowly, most of the crew made it out of the swarm. Gregor came out with a few bottles of liquid, some herbs and a homemade blanket with a diamond design on it. He smiled to himself as he put it away in his coat, where it probably ended up in his Private Isle. It seemed all but the blanket were to be for whatever potion he whipped up next. Daniel came out with a small compass as Knox crossed his arms. “You spent money on something like that?” He asked. “And where did you even get the funds? I thought Gregor was the only one with money left!”

“What? It's always nice to make sure, plus it’s also a watch!” He flicked open the device, the compass opened on one side, while the other contained a pocket watch. “I just gotta put it in tune. The guy at the stand said that I would get a free repair if it ever broke because he saw my RDA insignia.” he pointed to the small red lettering on his vest. “He’s a retired detective. Small world, right? I told him I’d send him money for it in the mail. His soul shard is basically a portable lie detector so he knew I’d pull through.”

As Hellebore was the last to make it through, stopping multiple times either infatuated by what they were selling or with the girls at the stands, he came out empty handed. Money wasn’t something he considered when being dragged off by Bogans to some POW camp. He seemed irked, as there was a lot that he would’ve bought both to woo the girls, and because he genuinely wanted that plush sheep he had seen.

Now making his way ahead of the group, Daniel pointed towards a two level building in between two cabin-like structures. “There’s an inn over here, at least that’s one night we won’t be at the mercy of the elements.” The inn seemed cozy, a soft plume of smoke wafted out of the brick chimney and a pile of chopped logs lay to the side, the wood ax responsible still embedded in a tree stump in front of the pile.

“Are you sure we should be stopping here? There’s still a few hours of daylight and we could get a head start.” Cymia looked up to the sky, the sun was still fairly high up, with only the slightest hint of a pink haze signifying the beginning of the day’s end.

“I’ll be damned if we’re going through Vloekstad forest at night.” Daniel said, his voice seeming slightly nervous. “You know how haunted that place is? By the Dire, I would’ve gone the long way to Merla if I was traveling by myself!” He motioned for the others to follow as he began the journey towards the inn.

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“You Anweos and your superstitions.” Hellebore said. “The spirits of the dead pass on. There’s nothing left to be scared of.” Gregor’s pace was faster than the others as he trudged past them. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about that forest growing up. Never thought I’d see it with my own eyes. Based on what I’ve heard I’m willing to spend a few coins if it means not going in at night.” It seemed Shadowmane’s superstitions were on par with Anweon’s.

Alice had heard the legends as well. Vloekstad forest was said to be a crossroad between the realms of the living and the dead, almost like a portal. The large circular clearing in the center of it, about a quarter mile in diameter, only adds to the mystery, as no one knows why the trees wouldn’t grow there. There was a town there once, but one day the folks within it disappeared, and the forest has since reclaimed the buildings within. Some say it’s cursed by one of the Gods, and others think it’s a ritualistic summoning zone for demons and the occult. Whatever it was, she was secretly also glad they weren’t going in at night.

Gregor was the first to enter the inn, Daniel close behind him as he motioned for the others to stay outside. Despite his motions, Alice made her way outside as Knox sighed, stopping Hellebore in his tracks yet again as he motioned for Alice to go on without them. The door creaked fairly loud as she opened it, she felt slightly embarrassed, as it was the third time this door creaked like that within 10 seconds and it was pretty damn loud.

The inn’s fireplace crackled as the eyes of a stuffed elk’s head judged them from its post with its dead black eyes. The scattered wooden tables were mostly empty, some filled with silent individuals wishing to finish their meal and drink their sorrows away. A woman was cleaning one of the empty tables with a rag, humming to herself as she pocketed the tip the former occupant of the seat had left for her. An older gentleman sat at a bar-like front desk, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he quietly blew one of his graying hairs out of his face. The man turned and saw the two men, a soft smile forming on his face.

“Welcome to the Millwood.” The man’s voice was raspy, but welcoming. It seemed the line was rehearsed and it was his millionth time saying it. “How may I help you today?”

Gregor took a few steps towards the man as Daniel and Alice stood back, analyzing the room and its decor. The young lady cleaning the table eyed Gregor as he walked past, resting his hands on the desk. “I’d like to rent a few rooms for the night, are there any available?” He asked, trying to seem professional. The man’s back stood straighter as leaned forward, opening a small withered book in front of him. “Let’s see… At the moment, we only have three rooms filled, so you’d get the pick of the lot. This time of year’s slow for us, believe it or not. We see more action later in the year with the hunting parties and upper class vacations, after the snow that’s coming soon thaws.” The man took a peak behind Gregor, seeing the two looking around. “Is it just the three of you?”

“Actually, there’s 7. The rest are waiting outside.” Gregor seemed uncomfortable mentioning the number, in case it was too many. The man’s smile didn’t fade, after all, it was just more money he could put into fixing that damn door. “Not a problem. How many rooms do you and your companions need?’

“Four would be fine.” Gregor eyed the pair behind him as Alice glanced towards the elk head. “Alrighty then. I’ll just need you to sign here, and to put down your down payments.” The man turned the book towards Gregor as he handed him a pen. He eyed the two again, wondering why they’d come in to begin with. “You should go get the others so we can decide who gets where.” Gregor said, staring towards the book, signing his name.

“Uh, are you sure four rooms is enough? How many beds are in each one?” Daniel asked. Alice’s attention turned to the innkeeper. “Just one, it used to be two, but we expanded and didn’t have enough for more beds. My apologies.”

Gregor finished his name and pulled a handful of coins out of his cloak. He slid them across the table towards the innkeeper and received four room keys in return. He was sure to use Anweos coins, as he wasn’t keen on being seen with Briarteal marks in the borders of their disgruntled and usually grudge-keeping neighbor. Gregor smirked, tipping his hat and walking towards the hallway to his right, where the room numbers on the wall above pointed. He whistled without a care in the world, or at least that’s how he acted.

Daniel and Alice walked outside, where Lockheed was leaning against the wall of the inn as Hellebore, Cymia and Knox were playing tic-tac-toe in the dirt. Cymia seemed frustrated as Knox put a line through the board, signifying his win. They all looked up at the sound of the creaking door, springing up when a hand poked out and beckoned them in. They filed in, following Daniel and Alice into the hallways where Gregor stood staring at the keys in his hand.

“Hurry up and give us the damn keys so we can drop our shit off.” Knox said, marching forward. “Hang on, we need to decide who’s bunking together.” Gregor replied.

Four rooms. Seven people.

“Well, I’m taking this one.” Gregor handed the other three keys to Daniel as he walked towards the room at the end of the hallway. “Wait a minute now!” Knox cried out. “Why are you getting one to yourself!?” Gregor answered, not looking back. “By all means, you can get your own room if you wish to pay for all of them instead of me!” Gregor shrugged, seeing Knox had no comeback as he disappeared into the hallway where his room lay.

Hellebore attempted to take control. “Well, I suppose I could room with-”

“Don’t even think about it.” Alice ripped one of the keys from Daniel’s hand, Daniel’s face suggesting slight nervousness at her reaction. “Ladies get their own room.” Her tone got her point across, there’d be no arguments related to it. She motioned for Cymia, who quietly sighed. “Guess that makes sense…” she said, disappearing down the hallway.

Daniel handed the other key to Knox as he looked at his own. “I guess that makes that. Come on, Lockheed.” Daniel made his way down the hall, Lockheed taking a moment before deciding to follow. Hellebore was quick to try and follow Daniel instead, not wanting a room with his tormentor, but a large gust of wind almost blew him over as Lockheed suddenly appeared in front of him, having used his soul spell to get the lead. A soft noise, which sounded suspiciously like a laugh, silently hissed out from underneath Lockheed’s scarf like a teapot as Hellebore angrily adjusted his shirt’s sleeves, muttering under his breath.

Knox glanced down at the key. “That means I’m stuck with…” he turned back upwards, where Hellebore’s face matched the irritation Knox felt. “Shit!”

As the group dropped off their stuff, Alice walked out of her room first, where the young woman was now folding towels next to a wooden barrel. The distant bickering between Knox and Hellebore broke any silence that was possible, as their room was the closest to where Alice now stood. It sounded as if they were arguing about something related to the bed. She glanced up to Alice, smiling as Alice made her way towards the exit. They had agreed to go out for a few hours, to explore. As she walked past the lady she stopped folding to ask a question.

“Are you guys a gang or something?” She asked. Alice stopped. “Excuse me?”

The lady’s smile didn’t fade. “Are you a gang? It’s pretty uncommon for so many people to be traveling together unless it’s either a mercenary service or a gang.” Alice seemed uncomfortable by this, as she didn’t want her identity to be known. “It doesn’t matter if you are. Most of the gangs around here are not as bad as most people would think. They offer protection where the guards don’t, and they make sure to keep people out that don’t belong. Drug runners and the pervs, mostly. I was surprised that they hate the drug flow as much as we do.”

Alice stuttered slightly. “Uh, no, we’re not a gang. We’re all just… together by chance. We’re on our way to Merla with, uh, official business.” The lady eyed her, seeming to accept that response. “So you are mercs. Figures. These days most governments rely on you guys a lot when it comes to getting your hands dirty. At least y’all do a good job… most of the time.”

Alice took a few more steps towards the door as the lady called out. “So, what’re you guys called? Merc groups usually have some sort of name.” She was taken aback by this question. “Uh…” Alice took a few seconds to think. Her mind drew a blank before going through the things she’d seen that day. She could easily just come clean, but that’d have the repercussions of people knowing that she was there, knowledge someone looking for her would love to have...

Broken… bars? No, that just sounds fake. Something to do with a soul shard? No, that’s generic. Order of… something? Now that just sounds like a cult. As Alice was attempting to answer, she instead began thinking of what they were doing, where they were going.

She had to give an answer. Now. “We’re the… Sojourners?” Alice finally answered.

Sojourner. A strange word. It was similar to nomad or pilgrim in its meaning, one who does not stay in one place for long. She had learned it in her schooling days and for some reason she suddenly remembered it now. Her mind must be going to some strange places if the first word she came up with was a word she barely even knew the proper use of herself...

“Sojourners, huh?” the lady looked down at her clothes yet again. “Interesting name.” Alice was already halfway out the door the second she looked down. “Yup, it really is..” she exited the inn with lightning speed as the inn worker was distracted by her duty. Alice breathed easily again, but now she felt a little guilty. If that lady tells anyone, she’d have to go along with it. She barely knew any of the people traveling with her, but now they just got grouped in as if they’d been a part of it for years. They’d probably just have a laugh about it, at least.

Alice slowly adjusted the sleeve of what was once the top of a dress before she leaned against a wooden post, waiting for her new ‘mercs’ to assemble. Her mind wandered slightly.

‘Sojourners’. I guess it’s unique enough to be believable.’ she thought to herself before the loud creaking door announced that she was no longer alone. Cymia let go, the door moaning shut as she took a step off of the inn’s wooden porch. The two sat in silence for a moment, as they barely had any conversation before. Cymia’s curiosity broke the silence. “Question.” She began, turning to Alice as she spoke in her usual strict tone, “Did she just say soldier, or soul something?”

“Sojourner?” Alice asked, pretending to be as confused as Cymia. “That’s the word she used. I think she thinks we’re mercenaries, and that’s the name of the group.” She shrugged.

“And what in the Gods does that word even mean? Where would she pull that word out of? Does she have a dictionary lying around ready to go while she’s cleaning shit?”

Well, Alice thought, guess she’ll have to wait for that laughter.

—————————————————————————————————————————-

Within the vendors and stands that the unknowing new recruits of The Sojourners had fought through, a figure had made its way towards the route they had taken. It crawled to a halt by one of the stands near the outskirts of the massive crowd. The individual had been sure not to alert their target to its presence, and although one of the guards outside had spotted them, they were sure the coast was clear.

The figure eyed what was on display, a bowl of exotic fruit lay near the edge of the table. The fruit was bright orange, being small and spiked, the stems long and thin. They were about the size of one of the tavern’s beer steins. These were Jimbob berries, a delicacy of Sindelva. The individual didn’t know if any of their target’s new allies was Sindelvan or not, but they did know that as long as they were in view of Alice then the fruit’s new purpose would be complete.

The vendor of this stand was busy showing off his grill containing a roasted pheasant. The figure’s eyes pierced through the smoke from the grill’s flames as it took a single step towards the bowl. It slowly reached out, caressing the fruit as a sickly smile enveloped its face. Slowly, the top fruit’s color faded, becoming a duller shade of orange than the rest of its batch. The trap was set, and as the figure again faded into the crowd of people, it awaited when it would reap the rewards…

The fruit lay among its normal counterparts as the buzz of the crowd continued around it, the fruit’s new objective now lay in motion. As still as the tree it had been born from the Jimbob berry sat, and there it waited for its directive.

“Timberrock lay on the border between two worlds, so similar and yet so different. Under Anweon’s control, it serves as a buffer between it and the nation of Briarteal, of which a vicious rivalry has been brewing for generations. Despite this, ‘tis not a well traveled town, and is rarely mentioned on any large scale maps of Anweon, only regional ones due to its smaller size.”

-Rudolph Ludwig, famous Shadowmane explorer, author and treasure hunter, 237 4th era