The Gildin Brothers were not in Ovespuerte when the [Guards] of the city were upturning every root and stone to find every [Information Broker] that may have some word of the information that had been sold in the city’s underworld. The citizens were both uneasy and reassured by the presence of their liege’s men.
Strolling along the main road leading to the Commero’s castle was a stout [Captain] of a lonely ship at the city's edge, moored in the Est Provés district. With his unruly company of [Privateers] with scabbards, flintlock pistols, and potent wands dangling carelessly despite the hostile stares of the [Guards] rounding up people, he walked confidently with his silver leg. Not merely a peg leg to replace his lost left leg, but a great artifact that he found at sea and propelled his fortunes.
A mob of them blocked them on their way to the castle. The [Captain] bared his teeth in a mocking grin.
“Halt–”
The bearded [Guard-Captain of the Port] of the Commerros raised his hand, silencing the men under his command.
“What brings you here?” The leader of the [Guards] spoke like his words were heavy with lead.
“I’m going to talk to your boss, and if you don’t let me through, you will envy the dead.” The stout captain spoke, lighting a pipe, and fearlessly blew the tobacco smoke to the armed [Guard Captain]’s face. Smoke started to coil around the defiant [Captain] of the seas.
“Let him through.” The [Guard Captain] barked to his men. “Now!”
The [Captain] and his [Privateers] went towards the castle unhindered, shoving the bewildered [Guards] aside as they laughed and howled. One of the [Guards] with a good throwing Feat tried to throw his spear, but the [Guard-Captain] of the Commerros stayed his subordinate’s spear and hit his face with its blunt end because of his disobedience.
-
Contiearl Torresso Commerro had been notified early with one of his Feats that someone has been demanding to meet him. He had rushed to his office without waking his spouse up as soon as he got dressed up. As soon as he sat in his office, a stout figure barged in. His right pearl eye lit up as he stared at Torresso. His men stayed outside of the office, flanking each side of the door.
“Johoon Silverleg. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Torresso spoke sarcastically to the man he hated the most.
“You dare talk to me like that?”
Johoon stabbed Torresso’s marble desk with an ashen dagger that pierced it like butter. Smoke started to crawl up the walls of the office, tearing the paintings down in a creeping rage.
“Do you want me to kill your other wife, eh? Maybe, I won’t drown her this time. Maybe, my men outside will visit her in your quarters. Maybe, I’ll let you and your sons watch this time.”
Only some have the gall and ability to threaten someone of Torresso’s rank. The unforgivable, vile threat had tightened Torresso’s grip on the papers on the desk. The air became heavy as lead, but Johoon shrugged Torresso’s Aura off.
“I want you to release the [Information Brokers]. My [Brokers]. Now.” Johoon demanded.
“No. I need their information.” Torresso refused.
“Do you want everyone in your pitiful kingdom to know that you are working with someone like me? I know how your religion treats its traitors.”
Torresso weighed the options that he has right now, and unfortunately, it was lopsided in this foreigner’s favor. He knows, and hated to admit, that this foreigner across the Obscure Ocean is the true ruler of Ovespuerte because of a mistake he made a decade ago.
-
On the same night, Torresso ordered the enforcers of the city to cease the search and release the [Information Brokers]. Thewardn saw his rival [Brokers] being returned to their hideouts, but that did not reassure them one bit. [Guards] had passed by his hideout and they fortunately struggled to find his warded hideout. In his tenure as a wandering [Information Broker], he had hints that a foreign power had taken over much of Ovespuerte’s underground. He did not dare to find out but with this incident, he was sure of which of Libertalia’s great powers had claimed Ovespuerte.
In hindsight, who it is was obvious. He deduced that this city was too hot to do business here anymore, and he knows that Numisley and Cultrost were on their way to Ascogres. He called the workers he hired to put up a legal front, inhabiting this building as [Shopkeepers], [Craftsmen], and other workers in this apartment. The same workers now covertly loaded the boxes of paper, parchment, and pots of ink, along with his desk. With waving gestures with his Wand of Dispelling, the illusions, and wards protecting his hideout dissipated. He handed a letter addressed to Numisley and Cultrost to one of his helpers.
“Safe travels sir. Laws protect your journey.” The young helper who received the letter said.
Thewardn snorted. He had always preferred the small gods scattered within the kingdom that some people worshipped in small shrines allowed by the kingdom’s laws over the dogmatic Divine Decree.
“Here’s your final earnings. I won't be back here anytime soon.”
With a flick of a finger, pouches of silver coins appeared at the hands of every person Thewardn had employed to occupy this nondescript building. The [Covert Coach Driver] he had hired from one of his contacts had arrived, bowing towards him. He did not speak a word as he urged his horses to move forwards throughout the streets. With a silent bribe to the [Guards] at the gatehouse, they had successfully left Ovespuerte.
-
A few days later, Gildin Trading arrived at Ascogres. People looked at them as [Traders] from the foreign south. They parked at the stables of Çienten’s brewery, prompting the [Brewmaster] himself to come out of the brewery.
“Hey! What brings you here, Numisley and Cultrost?” Çienten greeted, shaking both of the brothers’ hands.
“I’m here to meet the [Mayor], or Racieros,” Numisley replied.
“Racieros?” It took a while for Çienten to ascertain who Numisley meant. “Lord Commerro. Please address him with his holy title.”
“My brother’s friends with him.” Numisley jested. Cultrost playfully nudged his brother
“Oh?” Çienten blurted. “You should be privileged on gaining the favor of our lord! Lord Commerro arrived a day ago, so you should be able to gain an audience as soon as today.”
“Excellent. We’re moving here.”
“What?” Çienten’s expression contorted with shock. “Aren’t you from the capital? Ovespuerte?”
“Things didn't work out too well back there, Brewer Çienten,” Cultrost interjected.
“The market’s too competitive for us novices,” Numisley blatantly lied.
“Make yourself at home.” Çienten invited them to have breakfast at his home. They talked about recent events and business over a table filled with bread and potato stew, served by Çienten’s daughter, who kept curiously starting at Cultrost. They recently learned that Racieros had gathered most of the [Mercenaries] of the Inglorious Hands in his keep.
Later, they went to Racieros’ keep, and Racieros’ instantly let them in; to the surprise of his guards. Racieros was surprised that they were here too. Cultrost explained their entire situation since he was now privy to their secrets upon entering Racieros’ quarters.
“Did my father do that?” Racieros asked.
“Yes,” Numisley said.
Racieros was conflicted and bewildered. His father is abusing his position, something that he was taught not to do. Yet he understood that his father is doing this to prevent Numisley from claiming his heritage, as well as the book that they have.
“I wish to borrow your men. The Inglorious Hands specifically.”
“Can you pay them? I had only convinced them to join me because of my status as a [Lord] and our religion. And they might be less remorseful if I make one more mistake.” Racieros asked.
“What do you mean by that, exactly?” Cultrost asked.
“It’s a bit hard to explain…but the gist of it is that we, the nobility and royalty are holy beings–intermediaries. Anointed by the Divine Decree to be the stewards of civilization.”
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“Holy beings?” Cultrost blurted. “You don’t look holy to me, Racieros.”
“Shut up.” Racieros grinned, but he went back to his explanation. “Anyways…think of it as them accidentally hurting a saint, so they want to make amends by pledging themselves to me.”
Racieros mentally labored to recall some of the specifics of his faith. He was not as adept in theology as his brother, who zealously adhere to the Divine Decree more than their father.
“Do you pay them?” Numisley asked. “Faith doesn’t feed [Mercenaries], you know.”
“I try,” Racieros asked. “I–We were lucky that this mercenary band is more zealous than the others. Yulvres told me that they had served the [Bishops]. But…”
Racieros’ words stuck within his throat, as he tried to tell the truth.
“But what?” Numisley asked.
“Many of them left Yulvres’ group. I have a limited budget. The stipend and the taxes of the town. I can’t simply pay all of them, even if they simply guard the town without taking too much for my subjects. Even if the [Mayor] my father assigned to me allows me to–”
“How many of them are left?” Numisley interrupted. “And could I convince them to come with us, even if there’s a chance that I can pay them?”
“Hmm…”
Racieros nervously tapped his scabbard on his hip.
“There are only twenty men left in this town, and I don’t know if they’ll stay,” Racieros said. “ How about…try mentioning your heritage? Although I do not know if they want to be involved in a succession crisis, Numisley.”
“I’ll have to be more convincing then,” Numisley stated. Racieros was awkwardly glancing at Cultrost.
“Where’s Yulvres right now?” Numisley asked after turning to Cultrost for a moment.
“In the western part of the town, at the fields,” Racieros replied.
Cultrost stayed in place for a moment with Racieros as Numisley shambled away with his staff.
“Do I need to come?” Cultrost asked.
“I’ll have Graten or Palden come with me,” Numisley reassured, knowing that Cultrost would want to spend time with his friend. Cultrost felt grateful for his brother’s consideration. Numisley had left the keep and was accompanied by Palden and Graten towards the west. They were walking in one of the western streets of the town until they met a stout hooded figure who promptly removed his hood, revealing a partially petrified face.
“Thewardn?”
“You moved here too, kid?”
Thewardn gave Numisley a firm handshake as a greeting.
“Why are you here?” Numisley asked.
“Same to you,” Thewardn said. “I’m here because that Contiearl had upturned the city to find [Information Brokers].”
“What?” Numisley was surprised. He suspected that Torresso was trying to find any information in the book.
“Do you know anything about it?”
“I have my suspicions. But he knows about the book–”
“Let’s talk somewhere private. My new base here isn’t finished setting up. You know ‘bout scrying spells, ethling?”
“Eth–scrying spells?” Numisley blurted out. “Our father had taught me about them.”
“This small town isn’t that warded against them. Even from lesser ones. When my helpers finish setting up my safehouse, I’ll let you know.”
Thewardn briskly walked away as if he didn’t know Numisley. Numisley continued onwards to the location of the leader of the Inglorious Hands’ mercenary band. They had found them assembled next to a wheat field on the outskirts of Ascogres. A tattered blue banner of a band with a severed finger and a hole in its palm oversaw the formation.
“I’m leaving if you do not lead us to other jobs! We had done enough! We had repented enough!” One of the younger [Mercenaries] raised his voice against a bald man who Numisley recognized as Yulvres. A man with long hair and a wispy beard held the young [Mercenary]’s shoulder, holding him back. The younger [Mercenary] slapped his hand away.
“Germio! It’s not our fault that we attacked His Holiness. His father paid for it, so if anything, it's one of those assassinations!”
“Blasphemy!” Germio barked.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Yulvres, Germio, and the young [Mercenary] stopped as they heard Numisley’s voice.
“You.” Yulvres mouthed.
“Yes,” Numisley replied. “I have a job for you all. I had already asked your lord’s permission.”
He said the word “lord” as if he was still unfamiliar with the term even if he learned the local language. The mention of a job perked up the [Mercenaries]’ ears, their eyes desperately staring at him for an opportunity to appear.
“I’m one of the Naveirei. Yes, House Naveirei. I’m sure that you had heard of them before.”
Many of them had heard the heroism of one of their kingdom’s Duci. Marhyiana Naveirei, who saved the current [King] from a coup. Statues of her still stand today in many of the kingdom’s cities, and their ears had heard [Bards] tell tall tales about her.
“I’m the son of Jascias and Marhyiana Naveirei. Whether you believe it or not is up to you, and feel free to present your truth stones. I have been denied my rightful heritage by the other nobility. I shall travel to the nearby city of Daqquiristo and other banks to withdraw my rightful gold to attain my right to my heritage. I need you to guard my key to my heritage with your lives. If I can cross the ocean with only a few coins, I can make sure that you will be well-fed and paid for during this journey. And when I shall become one of your lords, I shall make sure that you will want for nothing.”
Despite Numisley’s [Noble Diction] and [Convincing Words], as well as his [Lesser Charisma], he is still unsure if he could sway the disgruntled [Mercenaries] to his cause.
Yulvres raised his axe, much to Numisley’s surprise. With the truth stone he pointed at Numisley, the green glow of the stone pendant confirmed that Numisley did not lie.
“I volunteer. His cause is just. We may want for the coin, but this is a matter of justice. A noble duty. Whoever wants to leave, you are allowed to walk away.”
The young [Mercenary] from earlier instantly left the formation as soon as he heard that.
“It’s a march towards death, not a holy duty, Leader! I doubt that he’s a [Lord], even. If you’re sensible, if you want to earn more money you’ll come with me!”
After a few moments, five other people had walked out of the formation and joined the first deserter of the day who spoke up. Their numbers had reduced to only fourteen dedicated men as the deserters had simply walked away, and Yulvres did not dare stop them because he understood why. Numisley was partly dismayed by the numbers he had to work with, but he was glad that a sufficient number of [Mercenaries] remain.
“For those who remain, I’m deeply indebted to you,” Numisley said.
Numisley hoped that they would not lose anybody on this journey like last time, but there is no guarantee of the lack of funds that they have. He looked at the sky, feeling a tingling at the nape of his neck.
Numisley and company went back to Çienten’s home to plan their journey. As Cultrost arrived with Racieros at night, Thewardn stopped by and called them. Cultrost said goodbye to Racieros; Cultrost’s casual address had bewildered Çienten and the other onlookers who their [Lord] graced with his presence.
They walked in the humble streets of Ascogres, stopping at a nondescript stone building. “Thewardn’s Ink and Sheets” was written on the sign above the door.
Much to their surprise, Thewardn’s office was just a wooden counter and a chair out in the open, surrounded by stored pots of ink, blank scrolls, unbound books, and papers bound in string arranged within standing shelves, instead of the enclosed safehouse protected by a metal door disguised as a wooden door.
“Thewardn’s Ink and Sheets?” Cultrost asked, looking around the shop.
“My disguise is a [Paper Merchant]. A good front that justifies the amount of paper and ink that I have.”
“You said you want to talk privately, yet this is…a bit more open than your safe house in the city,” Numisley commented. His clothes and hair seem to shine under the moonlight, despite being partly indoors.
“Different locations, different needs,” Thewardn stated. “In the city, there are more risks. In a place like this, I can hide in plain sight. And look,” He pointed to the wooden charms that hung at the door, the iron-barred windows of the storefront, and the wooden beams around them. Each of them appears to be a carved ugly creature, with its hands formed into a shushing gesture.
“Charms.” Numisley mouthed.
“Anti-eavesdropping charms. [Silence], [Detection], anti-scrying, the whole works.” Thewardn expounded. “Although based on the glow on your clothes, I guess it didn’t completely stop what’s on ye’.”
“What?” Numisley panickly padded his clothes, noticing the faint white glow on him.
“Relax. It’s the detection field I paid a [Mage] to set up.” Thewardn reassured. “It’s either some kind of scrying-Feat or Spell. Spells are a bit easier to deal with. So, did that Contiearl know the existence of the book?”
“Yes,” Numisley replied.
“He knows? Impossible. How about the other book?”
“The brown one? I think he doesn’t know. He didn’t mention it.”
“That’s one problem off then. Based on my info about that guy, he might have [Locate Contractee]. Did he force a contract upon you?”
“Yes.”
Numisley told Thewardn the details of the contract, and how they found the loophole.
“It’s good that you found that loophole. But you need some kind of Feat to sustain yourselves on the trip since that guy constantly siphons your coin. And since he knows about the black book, he would exploit you as much as he can, and he will have eyes on you.” Thewardn stated.
“So, how could we shake him off?” Numisley asked.
“Have a [Mage] and magic items to protect yourself from divination magic. But with your financial situation at the moment, you better hope you develop Feats to counter that soon.”
After taking Thewardn’s advice, Numisley and Cultrost had spent the night preparing for the trip.
Reclaim Birthright uncovered, [Rare Feat - Argument of the Claimant, developed].
[Feat - Temporary Employment (Five Days), developed].
Numisley jolted up from the resounding boom of lightning after he received his new Feats from the world’s will. The clouds gathered to dim the sky, sprinkling rain upon the fields of Ascogres.
“Isn’t it summer…?”