Chapter 10
Petor snuck Leo and Rio a leg of some kind of beast each. They carefully grabbed the leg crunching on the bone as a horse might chew on a carrot.
Netherforge REALLY wanted a hammer that could manipulate the temperature and could create mirror copies of itself. The addition of nearly thirteen thousand gold each, made buying a few legs an easy parting gift.
Though they’d turned around and bought another eighty green cores, bringing their total count to a hundred and one. A comfortable bank of cores.
He checked their harnesses holding them to Limos’ carriage before patting them and heading out of the stables.
Limos stood up from the table he sat with Peck. She rose as well as they clasped hands and shook. Infront of them were signed contracts, the glimmer of magic sinking into the paper.
Jaxus as well as the other Forge Masters stood on the other side of the table.
“To a long and prosperous relationship,” Limos said.
“As you say,” Peck agreed and released his hand.
“Alright Jaxus, have fun and make sure you get Hedgewick his reports, he so loves them.”
“Yes Mister Limos.”
Petor stepped up to the other horsemen, each wearing their combat gear, though Valter’s helmet was off and they projected an air of calm competence.
“Horses are ready,” He said to them.
“Got all your fingers and toes still?” Mya asked out the corner of her mouth.
“Last time I counted.”
Limos snapped up one of the contracts and put the piece of way to big paper seemingly into his breast pocket, disappearing from view.
“Well, new adventures and new chaos.” He walked over with his cane tapping on the stone.
Leo and Rio pulled out the carriage, no sign of their snack.
Limos took out a box in one hand. “Your gold for making this happen has been deposited.”
Desari who was closest, took the box and opened it.
“Inject your mana into the scrolls and pick out a place on a map. It will teleport you to it,” Limos said. “Till next time Horsemen. I’m eager to see what you get up to.” He walked for his carriage, the door opened ahead of him and he danced up the stairs.
“Create some chaos will you?” He laughed as the door closed and the stairs retracted. A red line appeared ahead of Rio and Leo to form an archway into some place in the middle of the night unlike the daytime they stood in.
Desari handed out the scrolls. They were a single small page filled with layers of runes and channels. The metal it was connected to, similarly engraved.
“Time to get ready,” She said.
Limos’ carriage passed through the archway that began to close after him.
Jaxus was talking to the Forge Masters and heading for the main building.
Petor and Valter shed their armor, underneath a rough shirt and pants, patched and worn, in the style that a common laborer would wear in Dragon Falls.
Mya had been producing clothes since they dealt with the Netherforge’s hammer problem.
Desari took off her wrap revealing face tattoos marking her as a Cinderborn Infernist.
“Going in as a trader or an artisian?” Petor asked.
“Gets me in, then I’ll switch to being a Lavawalker to access their military,” Desari said.
“Fair,” He looked at the others and stored one scroll away. “Alright, well, shall we do this thing?”
“Infiltrate three groups, and change an ongoing war. Just a Thursday. And no Petor I don’t have any idea of what damn day it is.”
Petor looked to the others, Desari shook her head, Valter shrugged.
Mya took out a field table and a map.
“Alright, Petor you want to get into the supply system as fast as possible and look like you’re coming from Gavrik’s training camps. You’re going to want to go here.” She circled a position on the map.
Petor took in the information, he’d studied the nearest village that was more of a supply camp with the latest fighting.
“Valter, you’d probably be best here,” She tapped on the map. “There is trade going through here all the time for the Emberclaw, Molten and Cinders.”
“Aim for off of the road, then you can head back to it, say you were relieving yourself if anyone spots you stepping onto it,” Desari said.
Petor nodded, the information just a part of what they had talked about before, though it was good to hear it again to keep it fresh.
“I’m heading here, I’ll work my way into one of the trading groups to gain entry,” Desari tapped the area around a gate into Cinderstein.
“And then I’ll go chat with the Infernals,” Mya said. She shifted the map, moving away from the contested areas and to a village along the molten sea’s coast.
“We’ll have check in every night at dusk. If one doesn’t make it, then we’ll pick someone to come back on an hour later,” Valter said.
They nodded in understanding.
“Well, lets get to it.” Desari held each of their eyes. “Thank you all.”
“What’s a crew for if not to pull in the same direction?” Mya asked.
Desari smiled.
She held out her scroll and looked at the map. Her mana poured into the scroll, the stored mana within it activated. The runes and lines burned the paper, a formation of mana hanging in midair before it slammed into Desari and she disappeared.
“Lets go see how the supply people do it,” Petor focused on the map and directed his mana into the scroll, it was like a key in the lock, a thread ran through several of his channels reaching for his core. He maintained focus on the position on the map, just off of the main road.
The floating formation appeared infront of him and shot towards him. He didn’t take his eyes from the map as it went through his clothes.
Different smells hit him first as he dropped to a crouch, the ground was rough with igneous rocks shifting under his feet.
It was much darker, the clouds above filled with ash from the volcano behind him. It was much larger than he was anticipating.
Thorny spindly bushes pulled at his clothes as he turned back around. Low lying foliage grew on the landscape, prickly bushes at hip height, spindly trees with spread canopies a man or two tall. Spotted throughout were different cactus types.
Running through this would suck .
He checked his compass and headed in the direction of the road. It wasn’t long till he stepped out of a bush onto a red rock road. Four lines had been worn into the soft stone by thousands of carts.
Another check of his compass and he was heading for the village nearby.
He hadn’t gone twenty minutes when the sounds of animals pulling a cart turned him around. Farmer would get a ride if he could . He kept walking backwards as a cart came around the corner.
It was pulled by two legged lizards with a motley of colored scales that turned white on the belly and black on the back.
He waved to the driver but he ignored Petor. Another cart followed, then a third and more, crushing up the stone and throwing up dust. Each cart and driver were more red stone stained than those ahead of them.
Petor lowered his head, covering it with his arm, closing his eyes as the carts passed, hitting him with stone dust, till a noise different from the other carts rushing past met his ears.
He opened his eyes slightly, the dust starting to settle, one cart with a driver with more red than any other color waited for him. His eyes covered by goggles, he pulled down their scarf, his lower face completely clean.
“Jump on, we’re stopping at the next village!”
“Thanks!” Petor jogged over, grabbed onto the bench seat and hauled himself up.
The driver pulled out a scarf and shook it, dislodging most of the dust and threw it to Petor.
The driver snapped his riding stick over the large lizards. “You’ll need it!”
Petor slapped it clean-ish and wrapped it around his head.
They hurried through the dissipating clouds from the previous carts and picked up pace. He gave up trying to look through the dust, keeping his head low and eyes shut as they caught back up with the other carts.
The cart bounced and rumbled over the grooved road.
“Woah Woah!” The driver said as their pace slowed again.
The dust wasn’t as bad and Petor looked through it, the carts had slowed for the gates that were being opened for them.
Like the walls they were formed of stone, not wood. Soldiers patrolled the walls and the carts rolled into the village.
The driver lowered his scarf and took off his goggles. “Drevin,” He offered his hand.
“Petor,” He took it. “Thanks for the ride. Uhh, do you know where I should go for supply?”
“What you mean?” He asked, paying half attention to where they were going as they entered the gates.
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The village was laid out with a main road running through it. A large portion was turned over to a fenced in area where carts lay on one side being loaded and unloaded into large warehouse like buildings. On the other side were pens for the different tow legged lizards.
“I got in late to the training camps. Said they were moving, that I’d be better off in supply. Told me to head this way?” Petor shrugged as he undid his scarf.
“You do any training?” The man asked.
“No.”
He snorted. “I think that they might’ve been joking with you. Well what’s happened has happened,” He pointed at a man with his riding crop. “See Mosi, talk to him, he’ll get you sorted.” He grabbed onto Petor’s shirt. “Just after we got this cart where it needs to be. Don’t want to be running over your foot now.”
“Okay,” Petor nodded. He didn’t need to be a genius to know that Drevin didn’t think he was the sharpest blade on the field.
They parked up quickly, a team moved to the cart, unhooking the tarp that held supplies down. The warehouse’s floor was level with the cart so people wouldn’t be grabbing this up and off of the cart.
“Thanks,” Petor held out the scarf to Drevin.
“Don’t worry about it, never know, might be coming out with us if they pull you into supply.” He took the scarf and tucked it back behind the bench. “Hope you like dust!” He laughed and moved to the mounts to removed them from their harnesses.
Petor headed for Mosi, he was short and stout, bald as an egg, his eyes and face clear where his wrappings and goggles had covered him against the dust.
He talked to another man and woman, comparing their boards.
“And then we got fifteen barrels of water,” Mosi said, lowering his board. “Got told they want that staged ahead of their path. Not sure the water collectors will have enough for them in the different villages.”
“Okay, thanks Mosi,” The other man said. The woman was frowning as she checked his board and looked at something on hers.
“Something worrying you?” Mosi asked her.
“Supplies are thin, we were hoping you had more. Lots of people on the move and they need the food,” She said.
“Start boiling the rocks,” Mosi snorted, but there was no humor to his tone.
“Here’s hoping not, Too crunchy for my teeth,” the other man said. He caught Petor’s eyes and straightened up. “You want something?”
“Uhh I was told to come here?” Petor moved over quickly.
“Who did?”
“Uhh, well I’m not sure who they were. They said that they were moving everyone and that I’d be best to go to the supply down the road. Said you needed people.” Petor shrugged.
Mosi let out a sigh. “You drafted?”
“Yeah,” Petor nodded.
“Got any skills?”
“Uhh I’m decent strong, I can farm, read and write too.”
“Good with numbers?” The woman perked up.
“Decent, I can understand them and put them together,” Petor shrugged.
“Well look at that, seems that they’re getting smarter. Maybe they realize that we need people to make sure they get fed. One with some education to,” The man tapped Mosi on the shoulder with his clipboard.
“Miracles can happen,” Mosi shrugged. “You were the lad on the road right?”
“Yeah, Drevin picked me up.”
Mosi grunted. “Alright.” He flipped his piece of paper and wrote some stuff on the back. “Come here.”
Petor moved up, he was making a grid sheet with all kinds of information.
“This is what’s being added to the carts and taken away, what do I have left?” He shifted the sheet to show another underneath.
Petor held out his hand. Mosi passed it to him with a pencil. “Just write on the page I put stuff on.”
“Okay.”
Petor scanned through the items, what was coming in and what was leaving. The supplies told a story. Food and water was being pushed up, as well as shelters and the tools to situate them. Gear that would be used for long-term position was being removed with more food, water and other supplies a marching army might require.
Petor finished off his numbers and passed the board, papers and pencil back.
Mosi went over it.
“Good work,” he raised his head to the two others. “Anyone else need a scribe and someone good with numbers? Else I’ll take him.”
“Have him Mosi, you pulled him out of the dust,” The man said.
The woman grimaced.
“Can always use another here a the depot.”
“You know how to deal with animals and carts?” Mosi asked.
“Yeah, dealt with them before.”
Mosi turned his gaze back on the woman.
“Fine he’s yours, but the next one that comes along is mine alright!”
“Fair is fair,” Mosi waved her off. “We’ll rest for the night and then head off in the morning. Got to get this all staged out ahead of Gavrik’s Company.”
“So it really happening you think?” The other man asked.
“Well why else you think all them special units and the ones that were getting trained are on the way. You know how Gavrik is, he hates putting any troops into the field that don’t have at least the basic training down,” Mosi said. He shrugged and moved away. “Lemme know if you need anything, otherwise I’ll see you tomorrow, or at the tavern if you get off early.”
“Hah, that’s a good one!” The woman grumbled, the other man chuckled as they headed for the depot, putting their heads together and reviewing their boards.
“Come on lad, you can meet the others at the tavern. Thank Dawnstrike and Ironfoot. They know how hard it is running everyone’s supplies. Got a place to get some food some drink and put your head between trips.” Mosi was already walking.
Petor caught up easily.
“Couple of things you need to know. Everything gets counted when it goes on a cart and when it comes off. Anyone that’s looking to shorten the load is in for a world of pain, first is a missing finger, next is the head,” Mosi shook his head. “Nasty but it works. Can’t have people taking bits at every stop else you’d have nothing by the time it gets where its needed.” Mosi gave him a knowing glance. Part understanding and warning.
“I understand,” Petor nodded.
“Good. The other thing is that all of the carts are numbered, he tapped on one with his pencil, rubbing away dust to reveal a number burned into the wood. “That lets us know which cart has what.”
He kept walking. “There are mistakes that get made, no doubt, that’s why its good to have two people who know their way around numbers in a crew. Though I hope you don’t need much sleep, we got a lot of things to move around in the coming weeks. Think this might be the one.”
“The one?”
“The last attack to get rid of Ilus and get the others off our asses. We take that city and it’ll show everyone just how strong the Molten Fist are!”
Petor kept his mouth shut as Mosi explained the different particulars of his new job. They quickly headed towards the tavern, Mosi’s steps getting faster.
He opened the door to a long and wide building. A fire pit was going in the middle of the front room. Food cooked on grills around it and there was a pot of some kind of stew hanging from chains connected to the peaked roof, blackened by the constant fires and heat.
Mosi pointed in the direction of several dusty covered individuals. They were at a bar infront of tankards, the keeper waving off one.
“You had your ration, don’t make me say it twice coming up here with that sad look on your face.”
The person in question turned away and shrugged to his fellows that laughed at the display.
“Baths are back through there, beyond them are the beds, hammocks. You ever used a hammock?”
“I’ve seen them once or twice,” Petor said.
“Apparently when there were less of us, Ironfoot went with a large group on some ships across the Molten Sea. Things hang in ships but you can clear them away. Comfortable enough. Take any of them that don’t have a person in them.”
“Dervin!” He yelled out to the familiar man who was just taking his first sip of beer.
“I only just got it past my lips!” He groaned and turned around.
“Hey it’s the lad,” He raised the tankard and took another gulp.
“He’s with you, make sure that he knows what to do.” I’m gonna have a fucking beer!” he headed off for the bar.
“Well passenger to fellow rider. What’s the story?” Dervin asked.
“Got sent here from the training camps. Guess they were clearing out. Just got put in with Mosi and I guess you.”
He grunted. “Well, looks like you’ll be needing that scarf again. We’ll get you some goggles too in the morning else you won’t be able to see anything.” He grimaced. “Can’t see much of anything being on the ass end of the convoy though.” He shrugged. “Welcome to our group, here let me introduce you.” He took another gulp, using the tankard to point to the others talking. “That one with the big ears, he’s Pirinn, Oks, is the bigger guy. Jai is the woman. What’s your name again?”
“Petor?”
“Ah that’s right,” Drevin patted him on the back and pulled him towards the group.
“Everyone mee the new guy, Petor. He’s the one that we rock blasted on our way here.”
They greeted him in a cacophony of raised voices. He caught Jai looking at him for a few more seconds than necessary.
“At every stop there’s food and there’s drink, you get one drink, one meal and one hammock,” Drevin continued.
“Well I’d best get on that before you get it all,” Petor said.
He grabbed food and drink, listening more than talking to the different members of their caravan and others, before quietly excusing himself.
He slipped through the back rooms and then out of a side door back out into the town. He bowed his shoulders, against the world and pushed on for the supply depot. He waved to a few further away, unable to see who they were and entered through a door.
Most were with the carts, loading and unloading. Petor took out a board and a sheet, noting down several things on it and walking through the racks. He’d pause, checking different things, adding pieces of paper into crates or sticking them to the side.
“Here we are,” He found stacks of paper the same size as the ones he had, adding in several pages to the top layers.
A group was moving deeper into the warehouse. He backtracked through the depot and out of the doors, putting his board away and mimicking the tired looks of others.
He slipped through the different alleyways, checking where the sun was and there was no one watching. Plain paper was stuck to the walls as he weaved his way through the village, in places that people would move through in the day.
Night’s a coming. He moved to a quiet spot away from others and drew his communication crystal into his pocket.
He remembered the weaves for Silence and Alarm and cast them. The first to make sure none could hear him, the second to alert him if anyone moved in his direction. Desari had made sure everyone knew them before they parted.
It tingled in his pocket he drew it out and threaded mana through its internal formation.
“V here, how copy?”
“P here, loud and clear.”
“M here, loud and clear.”
“D here, loud and clear.”
“I’ve been able to get a position in the smithy working on blades. They have kept me busy for too much else. I may have to leave as I’m in one of the storage rooms,” Valter said.
“I’ve joined a crew, started seeding the posters. Looks like all of the units are on the move. They’re shifted everything to staging points around Ilus,” Petor said.
“Reached the port and sent information through one of the Infernal Marauders contacts. Found a nice pub too,” Mya sounded rather pleased with herself.”
“I’m within the city and heading for the military districts. Morale is high the people are practically gloating about having a knew city under their control. They all look down upon the other groups,” Desari said.
“Anything else to report?” Valter asked.
No one said anything for a couple beats.
“Good hunting and talk tomorrow.”
Petor withdrew his mana from the crystal and from the twin spells he’d cast. Storing the crystal away he headed for the lodge and his hammock.
At least I still got a pillow!