Unclaimed Territory.
28th of Aniel, the first month of Snow.
2289 years since the new gods came.
The city is behind us, as are the comforts found therein. My exercises in this...reclaimed (?) body are tough, as I limber up and push myself. Brandywine has decided to undertake coaching of my training and being vicious. Nice
It is good to be properly training again. I enjoy the exercise. I finally feel like the road is welcoming me with open arms.
31st of Aniel,
The first big snow of the season has found us. At least we made it to a wagon rest before the full storm hit. I am guessing that a a full three to five feet will fall before it stops. There will be extra work to do with the remaining animals.
32nd of Aniel,
-4 degrees this morning; two and a half feet of snow. The snow has stopped for the time being. There are animal prints on the roof of the wagon.
35th of Aniel,
I'm getting tired of the snow. A team of overly large oxen are pushing a plow to clear the road. An ingenious setup, with the plow out front, being supported by large wheels, and the yoked oxen pushing from behind. I like it.
38th of Aniel,
One day at a time. We met another caravan, heading south. They have a similar plow, and have cleared the road they traveled. I expect more snow tonight.
39th of Aniel,
The wagon smelled of goat piss this morning. I had to resort to cleaning spells to be rid of it. Brandywine stated flat out that it wasn't her, and for once I believe her.
45th of Aniel,
We have arrived in Newleigh. I plan on purchasing a plow for the rest of our trip. The caravan will be stopping for the season as they don't want to face the mountains in the snow. There was a party tonight. I enjoyed it.
46th of Aniel,
It will take a full week to build the plow. The cost was exorbitant, but I paid it. As it will be done so close to Mid-winter, we have decided to stay for the Festival.
55th of Aniel,
I have secured a present for Brandy, but as she reads this journal, I will not mention what it is. Except that it was cheap and poorly made.
Newleigh, Unclaimed Territories.
1st of Aria, the Second Month of Snow.
2289 years since the new gods came.
She was overjoyed at the present. She has always liked sparkly things. A ball with a glowing core set with gemstones. It sparkles. A lot.
There was a small floofy white kitten in front of our rooms door this morning. Brandywine has decided to keep it, and call it Puff. Meh.
2nd of Aria,
Snow. An Armageddon of snow. If I don't see a Frost Demon or an Ice Giant I will be both surprised and disappointed. Too bad Ice Giants are several thousand years extinct. We will be stuck here until spring.
4th of Aria,
I have decided to continue my training at the local adventurers guild. I realize that I haven't explained that bit of local color before, so here goes. Adventurers are a mix of con men, mercenaries, thieves, and bounty hunters. You walk into the guild hall, place your request (for a small fee) on the quest board, and when someone fulfills it, you pay them.
Never short an adventurer. It's bad for your health.
7th of Aria,
Had an interesting meeting with the local criminal element today.
- - -
Not far from the inn where he and Brandy were staying, Max heard a commotion down an alley. He stepped to the entrance and saw a trio of thugs with truncheons about to beat a young man into the ground.
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Max cleared his throat and the thugs looked up, “Excuse me?”
“Clear off, or you'll be next.” The largest thug said.
“I don't think so.”
The three dropped the unfortunate man and slowly walked towards Max, “You think we won't?” said the second one, he sported a scar on his cheek from a long distant knife fight.
“I think you will try.”
“Think we will try?” The third thug laughed. “You hear that Ralph? He thinks we will try!”
The big thug, Ralph, looked at Max, evaluation and calculation clear in his eyes. “No. We won't try.” He placed a large hand on a shoulder of each of his companions. “Bob. Whelt. We will be leaving this gent alone.”
“Why?” the third thug, apparently Whelt, asked in a petulant tone. “What's he going to do? Scream?”
“Maybe. Look at his bearing. It screams soldier. What we can see of his sword hilt says it is well used and taken care of.” Ralph took a deep breath, “Lastly, look at the pin on his lapel. What does that tell you?”
“Looks like the boss's pin. Just less fancy.” Bob, the scarred one said. “That have special meaning?”
“It means we ask him, politely, to come visit the boss.” Ralph replied. He nodded to Max, “Please accept our invitation to visit our boss. I'm sure she will want to meet you.”
Max raised an eyebrow, “Um, sure?”
-
Ralph and Bob lead the way to a small bar several blocks from the alley; Whelt having been sent on ahead to inform them of a visitor. As the trio walked in, the normal din of the bar quieted, and max found himself the center of attention. Around a dozen unpleasant men and women were eyeing him up and down, evaluating him. Most came to the same conclusion Ralph had, only one had the bright idea to leave.
“Welcome to my bar!” a middle aged woman stepped out from a side room. “I see you're with the Gentlemen as well.” She held up a thin silver chain with a gaudy broach on it, the broach bearing a design similar to his pin. “Come in and have a seat!”
As Ralph and Bob slunk over to the bar and ordered drinks, the establishment returned to it's normal volume. Max sat at a nearby booth, and was soon joined by the woman with the broach. “So what brings you to my section of the city?”
“A friend and I were traveling through, and got stranded by the storm.” Max replied, “We have decided to stay until spring comes.”
“Very good, very good.” She smiled then, showing the gap where a tooth was missing, “So what's the real reason you're here?”
“I just told you.”
“Fine, fine.” She sighed, “You don't have to tell lowly old me. Just know that the heist over at the magic academy is going down tomorrow night, and don't you dare take the credit from me. It's my last chance to move up in the ranks. But you already knew that.”
Max raised an eyebrow in response. ...What the hells did I just walk into?
“Anyway, when you report back to the old men, tell them it's all under control.”
Max sat for a moment before things clicked into place. “Oh... Please believe me when I say that I have no interest at all in what you are planning. I have...'Other' things to attend to.”
“Really? I thought the Gentlemen of Repute were going to send an observer...”
“I'm in one of the 'Other' branches.”
“Oh...OH!” The woman turned pale. “I...I'm sorry. I will have Ralph and his crew put down directly.” Several of the people at the bar stood up, pulling concealed weapons from about their persons. “We didn't mean to cause problems---”
“NO.” Max stood up. The bar froze.
“Sir?” She cowered in her seat.
“They did their job. Correct?”
“Yes?”
“Then. They. Are. Fine.”
“Okay?” She took several deep breaths, “Then they don't need to be 'retired'?”
“They do not.” Max said. Then looked over to Ralph and Bob, who were standing back to back, truncheons at the ready. His eyes played around the room before saying, “Stand down. All of you.”
Everyone sat down.
“At least your crew knows how to listen...” He thought back to his old bar, then shook himself out of the memories. “My business will be concluded upon the arrival of spring. Don't get to greedy with the mages, they can be a vindictive lot.” He smiled at the woman. “Do a good job, and I might even put in a word for you.” He winked at her, then turned to leave. Upon reaching the door, he looked over his shoulder at the room, “And if I see anyone besides Ralph and crew on MY street, all of the streets will become MY street.” Max opened the door and left, back on his way to the adventurers guild.
- - -
10th of Aria,
The town criers and 'paper of newsworthy subjects' have been screaming about a heist at the mages academy. Several thousand gold worth of expensive magical reagents went missing overnight. The details are still coming in, but it's looking more and more like a fraud investigation than a theft every day.
I wonder if they had any powdered Wyvern wings? I shall have to ask at that bar...
11th of Aria,
I have acquired, thirty eight thousand gold of magical reagents. Including powdered Wyvern wings. I was able to pick all of it up for less than half of wholesale. I love the local markets.
14th of Aria,
The mages guild is now under investigation for fraud. It 'looks' like they were responsible for the accounting errors in the school. I guess I do need to write a letter to the Gentlemen.
15th of Aria,
This whole postal system is a wonderful thing! No longer do I have to hire a professional courier, I just stop by an office and drop off the parcel. The parcel gets sorted with the rest of the mail, and sent out on a bulk delivery. Guaranteed delivery anywhere on the continent in three weeks or less, or your money back.
The majority of the long distance carriers are from Demonia since they have the largest population of people who can fly without having to use spells. It reminds me of the 'Pony Express' Tristan told me about so may years ago.
*-*-*
A slight breeze blew a tumbleweed across the barely defined prairie road, and Tristan sneezed, “Now if you don't 'Pony' up the money in those saddlebags, I'm going to have to 'Express' myself with my guns.”
“But I have a job to do!” The young man on the stopped horse replied. Fear gripping his face, shaky hand slowly moving towards the revolver on his belt.
“I just want the cattle barons money. Not the rest of it.”
“Oh. Okay.” The rider relaxed almost instantly, reached into his left hand saddlebag, and tossed a heavy black leather purse to the ground at Tristan's feet. “Thing gives me the creeps!”
“Me too, young gun, me too. Now good luck to you, and god speed!” Tristan waited for the young man to depart before he bent down to investigate the bag. He could feel the coins unholy warmth through the sturdy leather. “A good day to do the lords work.” He unloaded his revolvers into the bag, and waited for the souls trapped inside the coins to depart for the afterlife.
He sneezed again. “Stupid allergies.”
*-*-*
17th of Aria,
I have been informed that the local acting troupe is preforming 'The Ballad of Tristan' starting next week, and that we ARE GOING. The old thing has been beaten to death and back, but some moron has resurrected it as an opera. The original was bolox, this new version will likely be as well. Although, it does come from the Rio college... I am preparing to be underwhelmed.