Lohmen finished his inspection of the impressive book cover and opened it to the first section.
“Better brush up. By the look of you, you’re new to owning one.” She nodded in the direction of Lohmen’s leather travel bag before leaving him to his studying.
Curious what the herbalist and now the barmaid knew that he did not, he flipped through and read a few pages of Bags as he waited for his food.
Adventurers choose to seal much of their life and belongings - everything from treasure and transportation to property and persona - into the equipment itself. Wherever they go, their bags go as well.
The barmaid returned with the hare stew.
“Adventurers?” Lohmen looked at the barmaid with a furrowed brow, pointing at the word in the book.
“Yeah, or Strangers. Some of the ancients call them that. Anyone with a bag, actually. Those who carry them are Adventurers…or Strangers. Raev was an expert on both, but the Bags especially.”
“People call me a Painter. I’m not an Adventurer or a Stranger….” Lohmen flipped through the pages of the book, reading aloud:
“...bags contain everything to outfit a person from head to toe…
...helms, swords, ornate chestplates, warhammers…
….Ghost wands, Grave wands, Divine Robes...”
“How does this apply to me? I’ve a tomesack and a leather bag full of travel gear. I don’t have any weapons or divine garbs.”
“Keep reading Adventurer. Plenty of your kind carries simple things like tomes and jewellery. Books, belts, and boots too.”
Lohmen spun the ring on his finger as the information sank in. He squinted at its markings that he was sure weren’t there before.
He looked back at the barmaid with a quizzical look on his face.
An Adventurer?
Lohmen slid his plate to the side and continued reading.
She was right. There were all manner of everyday items, among the more elaborate.
Crown, Helm, Hat, Warcap, Hood,
Greaves, Boots, Shoes, Slippers,
Tome, Club, Mace, Book, Katana, Quarterstaff, Warhammer,
Gauntlets, Gloves, Sashes, Belts,
Robe, Armour, Shirt, Chestplate,
Rings.
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Sweat began to form under the bandages on his head. Lohmen flipped the pages furiously. He stopped at the passage he’d read before.
Adventurers choose to seal much of their life and belongings - everything from treasure and transportation to property and persona - into the equipment itself. Wherever they go, their bags go as well.
He flipped back several pages.
Eight items covering tip to toe….
“Wherever they go, their bags go as well,” Lohmen muttered.
He opened his pack, pulled out the cartography book and dropped it on the table. He flipped to the back and unfolded a piece of paper tucked there.
Saddle, saddlebags, bridle, reins. Leather Travel Bag.
The leather bag under the cantle…
He rubbed his eyes with his good hand while stress seared at his temples. His breathing shallowed.
Did Kahriah do this?
He hated himself for the thought. They’d only known each other for four months then, but she was carrying his child.
No, she couldn’t have known.
He shook his head of ill thoughts. It had been 13 years since she had gotten down on bended knee, but he remembered that day as if it were yesterday.
8 Items covering tip to toe…
He wore the boots and gloves every time he rode. Hadn’t taken off the ring since Kahriah had put it on his finger. The hood and book were always stowed when he rode. He wore the shirt more than half the time and the belt nearly all the time.
Only seven items…
“I never took it. The pendant had never left the house.” He mumbled to himself in disbelief and fished the thing from his pocket. Holding it in his hand, he looked it over. It was maddeningly unremarkable; a reddish foggy jewel on a severed leather string. Unremarkable except for the barrel-chested man’s blood that speckled its surface.
Wherever they go, their bags go as well.
It was the tether. All that time. It was sitting in the bag in the corner of his house. A gaudy thing Lohmen took for costume jewellery tossed in an old leather bag had set the boundary of his search for Thesdon. By simply packing up and leaving with the Ranger, he had broken his tether.
Lohmen sunk in his chair under the weight of this revelation. His desperate years of mapping, trying to find Thesdon, were all for nought because of a necklace. After a moment, his eye twitched. His upper lip fluttered almost undetectably to anyone who might be watching. Lohmen caught himself and took a deep breath.
He flipped to the back of Bags. His finger traced down, then darted to the right. The pages flew backward to the section he was looking for.
On the Matter of Transference:
Lohmen’s finger moved down the page.
Section 6, Article 4: One may purchase a bag on another’s behalf.
He turned back to the bill of sale.
Purchased by: Lohmen Dreisler. Kahriah’s hand.
Lohmen Dreisler, Stranger. Owner of Leather Travel Bag.
Adventurer.
He looked at the seller column, and there was only a code at the top: 0113D7. The signature below was illegible. The first letter looked like it could be a T or an F, but no further indication.
It didn’t matter. He owned the leather travel bag, whether he understood it or not. In a rush, he put the mapbook back into his bag, threw it over his shoulder and did the same with the leather travel bag. A smattering of coins landed beside the cold rabbit stew where the book had been. The copy of Bags was firmly under his arm.
For the first time, Lohmen felt like a piece of him had been unlocked.
I need to find the Horseman. Mr Seventy-forty-two.
Pushing his chair back from the table a scarred, one-handed, armed Lohmen rose an Adventurer.