A merchant caravan. That’s what they were. Albeit a particularly well-armed one. I suppose that was due to these monster attacks I’d been told about.

Arrayed in a dense circle of tents and wagons, several men stood guard beside a gap between two of the wagons.

“Greetings!” I called out as I approached, raising my hand slowly, palm open.

Several men stepped away from the tightly clustered camp and I stopped a short distance away from them.

“State your business.” The centre man in chainmail said gruffly. He lifted a broadsword as he eyed me.

“Just passing through. We’re agents of the King, wondering if you’ve seen a fellow named Davian. Right bastard he is, killed good men when he escaped our custody.” I said.

“Don’t know nothing about that, sorry. We keep to ourselves here.”

“Understandable.” I said. “What’s all this then?” I waved behind him to the camp.

“Merchant caravan.” He shrugged.

“I had gathered that, thank you.” I replied dryly.

“Are you in need of some supplies?” He examined me, eyes running over my form more than once.

“No, thank you. I was just wondering, how common are monsters out here?”

I saw a shift in his posture. He had been relaxed, if curious, but now he was guarded. That last question had been unexpected.

“They’re frequent. Frequent enough that no one goes outside a city without protection. How can you not know that?”

I shrugged. “I’m new around here.”

“Right, well, just be careful out there. That mage looks like he can handle himself, at least. He should be able to keep you out of trouble.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Eric, staring impassively at us from a few metres away. Larsen stood next to him.

“I’ll do my best. Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m just happy you weren’t a bandit.” He chuckled and I nodded to him in parting as I turned back to the road and began walking.

“Well that went well.” Eric said.

“You sound disappointed.”

“A little. I’d hoped that they’d at least seen our prisoner, but that was wishful thinking, I suppose.” Eric frowned.

“Ah, well, we’ll pick up the trail when we enter the city, right?”

“Indeed.”

Without fanfare, we set off towards Blackshire and arrived in just under half an hour, ushered through modest gates by a few guards with long polearms and curious gazes. Unlike the Capital of Ebonwreath this place didn’t have tall walls covered in silver, but looked more like a normal town. It still had stone walls, they just weren’t quite as tall and elaborate.

I was growing used to the curious gazes, but I wondered how long it would be before I saw one that was fearful. People feared what they didn’t understand and I wondered if it would pose a problem in training the locals.

“Hey, hang on a minute, what’s the capital’s name? I can’t believe it slipped my mind. I can’t just go around calling it ‘The Capital’ all the time, can I?”

“Wolfport.” Eric replied. “There’s an actual port not too far from the actual city, but most cargo and such comes by gateway from the actual port for security reasons.”

“Sounds confusing. There’s a port, and then the capital and they’re both named… Wolfport?”

“Yes.” Eric confirmed.

As we walked deeper into the city through near identical streets of cobblestone I scanned the buildings, many of them two or three stories high with windows and rooftops containing curious locals. It seemed like everywhere we went we stood out. The city here looked almost the same as the one we’d left behind not so long ago, but I figured that was due to the proximity and that greater change would exist the further out we travelled.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to just have built the city next to the water?” Larsen asked, responding to Eric’s earlier answer.

“Perhaps, but that invites the opportunity for naval threats and sieges by water. Regardless, that’s all irrelevant, we have work to do. I suggest we get started by checking in with the Captain of the Guard and then check the local taverns. A gold coin loosens many a tongue.”

“Not a bad idea.” I commented. “Do you mind if we do some wandering?”

“Wandering?”

“I want to see what the people here are like and maybe buy some magic stuff.” I grinned silently. A magic contraption would be a novelty, but it might also prove useful and it would also be cool to show something off to Chen and Carver when I got back.

I felt a little bit like a tourist at that moment, only one contracted to bounty hunt and act the Drill Instructor in a foreign country where I was missing my passport.

“Magic stuff?” Eric repeated. “Very well, I suppose we can cover more ground if we split up. You may wander and browse the establishments here, but after we talk to the Captain.”

I nodded in agreement. “Deal. Say, Larsen… what do you think they sell in these Rune Scribe shops?” I asked.

Larsen’s helmet was bouncing back and forth, head on a swivel. She scanned the city around us as we proceeded deeper into the moderately sized city. She didn’t turn to me to answer, just took advantage of her suit speakers to direct her speech behind her as we walked.

“I’m hoping for a fancy sword. Something that shoots fire or glows, maybe.”

“A sword that shoots fire?”

“What? I like blades, what can I say?”

“Yeah, but… shooting fire? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with- You have no imagination, do you?” I laughed.

“Fine, fine, lightning then? How’s that?”

“What about boots that let you fly?” I asked.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Do they have those? Flying boots?” Larsen asked.

“Do they?” I passed the question on to Eric.

“Unfortunately, no. We can cushion a fall from great heights, or float up a certain distance, but sustained flight is mostly beyond us, even with the use of artifacts.” Eric smirked. “My thanks for the amusing image. This way, the Guardhouse is not far.”

“Mostly?”

“We have experimented before with flight, but the experiments always ended in failure. It has not been a subject of research in many years.”

I kept my peace on that subject. While a pilot and lover of flight, I didn’t think it either relevant or wise to share that we had that capability with Eric, much less that we’d weaponised it. I had no problem being friendly with him, but I still didn’t trust him all the way. Some cards I still chose to kept close to my chest. I still wasn’t sure how much of our technology we’d give up, or how much I was willing to give up, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.

“Through here.” Eric said, inclining his head into a narrow alley, just wide enough for him to fit on horseback.

I gave the passage a dubious look but followed without complaint. After a good five or so minutes of wandering through alleyways and side streets we arrived at a moderately large building which was eerily similar to another familiar-looking structure that had been burned into my brain.

The place in front of us looked much the like the perimeter wall of any base I’d been stationed at over the years, only instead of earthen barriers, razor wire and scanners they had men in plate armour and carrying swords standing atop stone battlements. It was a fort, but built with the technology of the time, and with magic too, I had to assume.

The square fortification was impersonal and surprisingly uncolourful compared to the rest of the city and the people in it. I hadn’t noticed much variation in fashion between Wolfport, that we’d spent a brief time in and Blackshire which we’d only just arrived in. Come to think of it, this place did seem rather bleak and monochromatic. Not necessarily run down, at least not in the places we’d been so far, but definitely far from the crown jewel.

Eric dismounted opposite the large archway of an entrance. Brushing his horse’s neck with the palm of his hand, whispering something to it before turning and making for the gates.

When we approached the large open gates we were greeted by a burly man with a thick black mustache and a clean-shaven head. He hopped down from atop the battlements landing hard on the stone in front of us. Seemingly unbothered by his fall of at least eight metres, he stood up and offered a hand in greeting to Eric.

The two men shook hands as Larsen and I settled in beside beside Eric.

“Who are these two, then? Introduce me.” The other man said.

Eric turned to us. “This here is Captain Markus Flint, Captain of the Guard of Blackshire.”

“For my sins.” He chuckled.

“Edward.” I said, reaching out to shake his hand.

Larsen did likewise after I released my grip on the man’s hand.

“Nice to meet you two, but I reckon this ain’t a social visit. What do you need this time Eric? More lessons with a blade?” Markus grinned widely.

Eric rolled his eyes. “No, nothing like that. We’re trying to track down a fugitive. Davian-“

“Kirtus?” Markus finished. “I know him. Bit of a zealot. Seen him around in the darker parts of the city more than once. He really planning an attack on the capital?”

Eric nodded gravely. “Looks that way. That or he knows someone who is. Have you had any luck tracking him down? We had him for a while but someone broke him out and he’s been on the run. We need to finish questioning him.”

“Ah, tracking him down? In that case… can’t help you.” He grinned, despite his words.

“Excuse me?” Eric’s tone turned frosty. I half-expected him to do some mage-shit and for his breath to be frosty too.

“He took off from here travelling with a band of mercenaries yesterday. We didn’t know he was an escaped prisoner until he was already gone.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Damn it, Markus!” Eric raged at him, pacing back and forth furiously. “Don’t you have anyone operating the Echo? It’s been at least two days since word went out!”

“Sure, but they’re kids, practically. Barely know how to do their jobs. I expect they missed it while goofing off.” Markus shrugged apologetically.

Eric walked up to him and stabbed him with his finger, right in the centre of his breastplate. “Get your house in order, my friend. There are lives at stake. If they can’t do the job, find someone who can!” Eric snarled.

Markus’s eyebrows knitted together in consternation, then after a moment his face morphed into a rictus of anger.

His voice had an edge to it. “Watch your tone, lad. We might’ve been friends for a long time but-“

“What? Don't think that just because you taught me to fight and I call you a friend I’ll hesitate to do my job. Are you going to duel me, right here? Right now?” Eric scowled.

“I might.” Markus glared, eyes flitting to me briefly.

“I don’t have time for that, and neither do these two. Save your ego for someone who cares.” Eric scowled, clearly having noticed his old friend’s eyes moving to us.

"Who-"

“Which road?” Eric asked shortly, cutting his friend off.

“What?” Markus blurted, surprised, but no less irritated.

“Which. Road?” Eric said, testily.

“North.”

“The mercenary group, know it’s name?” Short and sharp words.

“They call themselves the Dragonclaw Legion.”

The men on the battlements above caught my eye. They’d been watching, intrigued but the name Markus gave set them to whispering. They looked agitated to say the least.

Eric nodded, raising his voice as he walked between Larsen and I. “Be seeing you, Markus.”

“Kid, don’t go doing anything stupid now, ya hear?” Markus yelled back.

Larsen and I stood motionless, still taking in the exchange in silence.

Eric didn’t look back, he just kept on walking. I quickly nodded my farewell to Markus and moved quickly to keep pace with Eric. He looked to be in a rush, long strides eating up the ground to his horse. He mounted it and immediately began to pick up speed regardless of whether the streets were occupied, lashing the reins. I had no choice but to follow him.

We headed North after barely any time at all in the city, having headed straight for one of the side streets paralleling the main route through the city. We’d followed it to the outer gate and Eric had gone right through, not even stopping to speak to the perimeter guard. I considered that a bad sign, not that there hadn’t been a few already.

“I assume this means no magic shop?” Larsen asked, disappointedly, running at an easy pace. Though ‘easy’ was relative and still put us abreast with Eric at close to fifty-five klicks an hour. Speedometers were handy things and I rather enjoyed the opportunity to go flat out like this. It didn’t happen all that often as we usually had vehicles for long-distance transport.

“I don’t think so, no, but on the plus side, we don’t have to go looking through a bunch of inns or seedy taverns.”

“Hey, I’m rather partial to a good rye.” Larsen said.

“So am I, but not when the place smells like piss and has bloodstains on the floor.”

“They can’t have been that bad, could they? We didn’t even visit one. How would you know?”

“Maybe they wouldn’t be quite that bad, but I doubt they would’ve been that much better. That city didn’t seem to be faring too well.”

“Looked fine enough to me.”

“Lax guards, and did you notice how the people all looked thin?”

“No? Not really.”

“You need to pay more attention, then. I saw more than a few people who I’m certain were starving.”

“Problems getting supplies through?”

“Maybe, yeah. Lilith did say that monster attacks were on the rise.”

“Monsters.” Larsen snorted.

“What?”

“Well, we haven’t seen any. What do they look like? She wasn’t exactly specific.”

“She said enough and gave us a few examples” I argued. “Just keep your rifle close. I don’t know if a zombie can bite through my armour but I’m not eager to give it a chance to try.”

“Zombie.” She scoffed.

“Hey, nothing she’s said has been a lie so far.”

“That we know of.” Larsen countered.

“True, I guess it would be better to say she hasn’t been wrong yet.”

“Well, this is her world. I’d be concerned if such an apparently important figure was wrong about something like that. I’m sure we’ll find something that wants to kill us soon, right? Besides other people, I mean."

"Probably, yeah. Watch my back, will you? This place doesn't sit right with me." I cast my eyes around the wilderness around me.

"As long as you watch mine. This whole planet doesn’t sit right with me."

I nodded my agreement, though the small motion was utterly lost in the larger movements I was making as I moved.

“What do you think happens now? Does Eric have a plan?” Larsen asked.

“I don’t fuckin’ know. Ask him when he slows down, why don’t you?” I continued my long strides, though they were more a rhythmic series of leaps than actual steps. Moving long distances at high speeds in armour was less about running and more about your ability to jump quickly and accurately with alternating legs.

“I will. He seems to be in a rush now. Something that Markus guy said set him off.” Larsen said, grumbling under her breath.

“No, he’s always been in a rush.” I corrected her. “He knows something now, though. Something that has him very worried.”

“If you say so.”

“He took off like his ass was on fire. I’m pretty sure I’m right.”

“I wonder why he took off like that. The name of this mercenary group, maybe?” Larsen offered.

“Could be, but I’m betting that he knows the guy we’re tracking isn’t that far ahead of us. He probably wants to catch up before he gives us the slip and he goes to ground. What kind of a name is the Dragonclaw Legion, anyway?”

“I don’t know, but our entire Company was nicknamed Demon Company and that’s not much more interesting.

“We’re in the Marines.” I said dryly. “Interesting isn’t in the job description.”

She made a noise of agreement. That sounds about right. What do you suppose he's running to?

"Fucked if I know. I do know one thing though. Whatever he's running to, it's either something really, really good, or really really bad."