Map for Part 3 [https://c10.patreonusercontent.com/4/patreon-media/p/post/117428595/aaa46324728646f5a7cf8abc4a115cce/eyJ3Ijo2MjB9/1.jpg?token-time=1738886400&token-hash=fAWnr-jjFeTY6Tm2pXj-rVtd7e-LQpBdjJxZ6KrqTsU%3D]

Company Accounts:

Finances: £27 9s 11d

Mercenaries: 13

Assets: the mine in Eisenberg

Available missions:

KILL SAL

LOCATE BARROW

FOUND TOWN

It was four weeks since the Battle of Eisenberg. Lothar wasn’t the only one who had felt the itch to leave the place behind. Mags’ grave had become the physical manifestation of an invisible stain on his character—the latest unnecessary death that he was responsible for. Even when he avoided it, the burned remains of the village church were a constant reminder of the violence and destruction that were an integral part of his life.

The idea of founding a new settlement—of creating something—held an almost spiritual appeal. He was lucky that many others shared the same sentiment, and travelled with him to the mound where his crew had discovered Blueblade.

They all felt the power of the place. A feeling of safety and calm enveloped them. Without Rosalind and Bletcher, it would have been a dangerous place to visit—an addictive, unmanning sorcery that might have imprisoned them. But over the days and weeks, they tempered the magic that emanated from the three sets of standing stones. They pulled stones from the ground, breaking each circle.

The peace they felt now was a gentler sensation. It was the kind of emotion one feels when you return home after being away, and that made it the perfect place for The Apples’ town. The Blades have Dorwich City; let The Apples have a rival to it, Lothar said to himself. While Sal’s choice of location allowed him to dominate the trade on the River Auster, Lothar’s settlement extended his reach into the wild lands, where the opportunities were as potent as the dangers.

‘Stiff!’ came the shout, waking him from his reveries. It was Georg Hoffman, known to everyone as The Hoffmeister. ‘They’ve found something you might want to see.’

They walked through the building site that Lothar hoped would one day become a thriving settlement. There were many skilled and practical minded people in Eisenberg, who had agreed to follow Lothar here for good wages. They had cut back trees, flattened land, established a water supply, built houses. That didn’t mean they were all in step with Lothar’s ambitions.

‘What will this place do?’ one of the miners from Eisenberg had asked him, his forehead wrinkling in confusion.

Lothar had understood where he was coming from. Eisenberg existed because of the mine. There was no such industry here. He had waved a hand at the great expanse of unexplored land to the north, west, and south of their location. ‘Out there are greenskins, monsters, and beasts who would like nothing more than to tear us to pieces. There are underground dungeons, ancient forests, and formidable mountain ranges. There is also treasure and glory to find. That is what this place will do. That will be our industry.’

The miner looked at Lothar like he was a madman. ‘I think,’ he decided, ‘when we’ve finished, I will return to Eisenberg.’

The Hoffmeister led Lothar to the raised mound. Gathered inside the stone circle were those mercs who had followed him here. As far as he could tell, Rosalind and Bletcher were carrying out the exact same work. Yet the man was covered in mud, while the woman was pristine and, in Lothar’s professional opinion, ravishing.

‘We’ve pulled this one out,’ Wilson informed him, slapping the vertical standing stone that was no longer standing. The gnome had thrown himself into the mission, as committed as anyone to the future of this place. It meant he acted as if he were in charge, which everyone else tolerated. ‘And there is writing on it, until now buried beneath the earth.’

‘Mada,’ added Murder.

Lothar crouched down to examine the find. The stone had been wiped clean where they had found the letters:

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

M E R K H A Z E R

‘What does it mean?’ he asked, turning to Rosalind.

She shrugged. ‘No idea. This stone stood here a long time. It must be in the language of the people who built this place, and left these barrows behind.’

Lothar stood. ‘This shall be the name of our town. Mer Khazer.’

The Rotten Apples nodded their agreement.

Now his new settlement had a name, Lothar found his mind moving on to other issues. Four of his mercenaries had left Eisenberg without saying a word to him: Jaelin, Mila, Christoph, and Ashlyn. They were angry about Stricken, and blamed him for the psychopath’s actions. He hoped their emotions would cool. He hoped they had gone to search for the last of the four barrows, just as Jaelin had found the third. All he could do on that score was hope, and wait.

He went in search of The Baron, finding him deep in conversation with Rosalind. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s these two who are romantically involved, not me and De Cheney. There was certainly a distance between himself and Rosalind now. He traced it to the moment when he’d revealed he knew about her magic powers. Those powers remained mysterious, but he didn’t dare push for answers.

‘You need to speak with one of us?’ Rosalind asked him.

‘I came for The Baron. I’ve been asking him to spy on The Apples for me.’

Rosalind raised her eyebrows, looking from one to the other. ‘With what purpose?’

‘He wanted me to find out if any of them are working for Sal Blair. We suspected Cap was a plant, tasked with infiltrating and taking over The Apples.’

‘And what have you found?’ she asked him.

‘Precisely nothing. I think it’s unlikely you still have a plant, Stiff, but it’s always hard to prove a negative. No one is actively trying to undermine you, or talk up The Blades. In fact, you have the opposite situation. The five ex-Blades who joined The Apples all, in their own ways, have stated they are happy to be here.’

‘Good,’ said Lothar, pleased. The news freed him for what was to come next.

‘I know that look, Stiff,’ Rosalind said. ‘You’re planning something.’

‘I think it’s time I return to Avolo. The Blades will be conspiring against me, no doubt. I need to recruit more mercs.’

She nodded. ‘The Baron and I were just having a similar conversation. More ships are expected. When they step off the boat, new mercs will have a choice between Apples and Blades. You need a representative there, at least. But better if it’s you.’

‘Then we are agreed. And you two are coming?’

‘Yes,’ they answered.

Lothar looked at them. ‘What exactly is your relationship?’

‘We simply want the best for Gal’azu, Lothar,’ Rosalind answered him. ‘That means seeing The Apples thrive.’

They left for Eisenberg the next day. The three of them brought Murder with them, on the basis that he’d be happier in Avolo. Bletcher would have to stay in Mer Khazer. Rosalind believed the magic there had been tamed, but argued they should err on the side of caution.

Lothar left Wilson in charge. Whatever his weaknesses as a leader, and whatever The Baron said about the others’ loyalty, the gnome was the only one Lothar trusted.

It was a long journey to Eisenberg. Lothar asked Rosalind why they couldn’t travel by portal.

‘Using magic costs me, Lothar,’ she said, sounding almost hurt that he’d asked.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’

She smiled, and took his hand. ‘I know. I’m sorry for being short with you. Any wizard with sense only uses magic if there is good reason—and skipping a long walk isn’t reason enough.’

So they walked. They arrived at The Pig and Iron ready for a late meal and bed. It turned out there was a delegation of villagers waiting for them.

‘They’re from Urlay, a small settlement on the Auster,’ Mayor Steben explained. ‘They’ve been waiting for your return for the best part of a week now. I told ‘em it wasn’t wise trying to follow you to…well…wherever it was you went.’

‘Mer Khazer it’s called. And our journey here was perfectly safe. No goblins or orcs.’

Steben nodded, but clearly didn’t believe a word.

Lothar sighed. ‘Send them over.’

‘Much obliged,’ said the leader of the little party when Lothar offered them seats at his table. She was in her thirties, with a frazzled demeanour. ‘We’ve come looking for your help, Mr Sauer. We’ve heard about the exploits of The Apples, and we’re desperate. The Blades have refused to help us, and our menfolk said we shouldn’t come here. But something needs to be done.’

‘About what, exactly?’

‘The wight. It comes from the moors, on certain nights. It’s taken four lives already. Maybe more since we left,’ she added, her voice wavering. ‘My husband led a party after it a few weeks back. It gave them the slip, on account of the mist that lay on the moors. It entered Urlay when they were out, and killed Kathy, the miller’s wife. Horrible, the way she was left. We’re at a loss about what to do.’

Lothar turned to Rosalind. ‘A wight? What is it exactly?’

She pursed her lips. ‘Not sure. Folk tend to use the word “wight” for any creature they can’t give a better name to. Is that the case here?’ she asked the woman.

‘Yes. Only a few people have seen it, and none have got a good look. It’s tall, they say, but otherwise looks like a man from a distance. But what kind of man would wander alone on the moors, killing people?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Lothar. ‘Look. I’m headed to Avolo. But I’ll write you a letter to give to my second in command in Mer Khazer. Wilson Turk is his name. It’ll be up to him whether he can take a crew all the way to Urlay.’

‘Mer Khazer?’

‘My new town. Over a day’s walk northwest of here. If you think this creature is worth the journey, then you are free to go and ask Wilson for help. But I’ll warn you, even if he says yes, my mercenaries will need proper payment.’

‘Oh, we’ll pay,’ the woman said. ‘We have no choice. Much more of this, and everyone will leave Urlay. It’ll become a ghost town.’

MISSION COMPLETE

SUCCESS: Mer Khazer was founded

None of your mercs improved their stats

No mercs levelled up