“I think we’re about as ready as we can get,” Oliver said, mentally reviewing the purchases they had made since they had arrived in Jellis.
Once Hugo reached out to the sheriff, Elway eagerly snapped up the two stag totems the caravan had acquired on their trip down the Flax Road. The speed, stamina, and mobility powers offered by the gift of the stag made a good match to the Warrior’s gifts of the archer and skirmisher, and given the dangerous roads, Elway had been willing to pay a premium for them.
Rather than save their shares, Oliver and the girls had made the decision to invest the money back into supplies for their return trip.
“There’s no way the attacks were as simple as a single specter,” Oliver had told them. “There’s something else going on, someone or something controlling the lesser undead.”
“And if that’s the case,” Beryl said, “they’re certain to attack us on our way back. And they’ll be ready for us this time.”
Fortunately, the three had no need to spend money on magic weapons, usually the most expensive equipment for any battle-gifted. Rose and Beryl had trained in the self-sufficient fighting style favored by the wardens, and were more dangerous with their simple staves than most battle-gifted armed with conventional weapons, while Oliver had no need to upgrade from the runeblade Adeline had given him.
Their first stops had been to a few local alchemists. The warden recruits found what they were looking for easily enough–a couple health potions each–but it took Oliver some time to track down an alchemist with the right gifts for his needs. His time spent reading both the Travels of Elben Trellay and the Ruined World section of the Umbral Lexicon had made him aware of a product called enriched water, which could only be made by the augment of the Mage’s gift of alchemy and the Primal’s gift of water.
Essentially little more than water infused with large quantities of life-aspected magic, not only did the liquid bestow a low potency passive healing effect, it was dangerously opposed to the death magic that animated undead. Fortunately, one of Jellis's three resident alchemists had the right pairing of gifts rather than the more common alchemist and herbalist augment. OIiver felt significantly reassured with a couple canteens of enriched water packed away.
Leaving aside the likely attack they’d face, it would still take at least another month to return to Correntry, so Rose and Beryl had also decided to buy from the various sundry shops to make their return trip more pleasant. Rose picked up a simple hair brush and a vial of a cleansing potion that would make a serviceable substitute for a shower, as well as a pair of mundane puzzle boxes. Beryl surprised Oliver not just by purchasing a simple sketchpad and hardback, but by proving herself remarkably proficient with them. He had never expected the large, brash girl to have such an artistic side.
Finally, their most costly purchases came from one of Jellis’s famed weavers. Avis shared the same dark skin as her husband, Elway, and matched his level as an Adept, but her weaver, artificer, and serenity gifts were far cry from her husband’s combat-oriented skill set. They did, however, make her the most skilled and highest level artisan in Jellis, and the obvious choice for them to purchase new gear from.
The jovial, heavy-set woman had eagerly taken them through her impressive assortment of battle garb. Despite growing up in a bastion city, Oliver had been surprised by the weaver’s versatility. The combination of artifice’s energy-manipulating runes and the magical crafting abilities of a high level artisan allowed Avis to create items even the noble-born squire had never seen.
“That’s cloth of steel,” the woman had explained as Oliver examined a tunic. The cloth was smooth, like silk, but heavier, and hung oddly on the mannequin it was displayed on. “I have to make it while working with one of the local blacksmiths. They produce the metal-aspected magic that I sew into the cloth itself, and I think the results speak for themselves.”
“How effective is it?” Oliver asked.
The artisan smiled proudly. “Try it for yourself.”
Oliver gave Avis a surprised look, but at her urging, had pulled his blade and attempted to cut through the simple-looking tunic, only to find the fabric all but impenetrable.
“I’d have to use a special attack to try any harder,” he said.
“I wouldn’t suggest that,” Avis admitted. “While the fabric is about as resilient as your average chain shirt, it lacks any innate potency. Now depending on your gifts…”
Oliver smiled. “I have the gift of the vanguard.”
“Well then, that couldn’t be more perfect!”
Oliver couldn’t help but agree. But… “Do you have it in white?”
In the end, Oliver walked out with a cloth of steel tunic in a bright white, while Beryl had settled on a more subtle brown for hers. As Rose preferred to avoid that sort of melee combat in the first place, she had ended up with a flutter cloak, a garment that could use wind-aspected magic to enhance her jumps, allowing her to more easily flee attackers and free herself from the press of close combat. As Rose shared Oliver’s gift of wind, she could further enhance the cloak’s capabilities with her mana.
All things said and done, the trio were left with only a few more rings than they had before Hugo’s sales, but they felt much more prepared for their return to Correntry and the unknown threat that loomed ahead. And, as Hugo was still responsible for their room and board while they traveled with the caravan, they were still able to live comfortably while in Jellis.
As hoped, Jellis’s accomadations had proven much more fine than any of the little villages they had stopped at so far. For the first time since he had left his family home in Elliven, Oliver had gotten to sleep on a down mattress, and the inn even had artifice-maintained baths where all the trio had finally gotten to wash off the dirt and grime of the road. Rose had availed herself of the facilities every day since they had arrived.
“I like showers,” she told Oliver defensively when he pressed her about it. “They’re relaxing.”
“Yet you chose a profession that makes you go out on the road constantly.”
“Well if we all chose jobs that let us do what we like, you’d have to find something that let you be condescending professionally.”
Oliver paused thoughtfully. “Actually, my father wanted me to be a courtier. I think that would’ve been an accurate job description.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Beryl and Oliver had also found their own liquid-based vices on offer in Jellis. A local brewer produced a pale ale that satisfied Beryl’s elevated palate, even if Oliver found it bitter and hoppy, and the innkeeper made a point of keeping an assortment of fine Vital teas in stock.
That night found Oliver and the two warden recruits sitting together in the taproom of the inn. Rose’s hair was still an inky shade of crimson as it dried from her most recent bath, and she had a glass of a pale red wine while Oliver and Beryl enjoyed their own beverages of choice.
“I’d hope so,” Beryl joked, “since we don’t have a full scepter between the three of us.”
“Hey, we could always try to deal like Alec did,” Rose said.
Beryl laughed loudly. “Oh Warrior, the Alec Method.”
“It did work more than you’d expect.”
“Yeah, except when it failed, he’d have to spend everything he saved on a healer!”
Oliver closed his eyes, soaking in the comfortable murmur of the taproom and leaving the two girls to reminisce over their shared memories of growing up in Correntry. He wondered what Adeline would think of their purchases, and from there it was a short jump to wondering what the knight was doing now.
When they all went their separate ways, she and Farris had been going out on their own mission, to hunt down a minotaur that had been threatening some towns west of the trade city, along the road to Valley Hearth. Minotaurs were magical creatures, products of rampant rage magic, rather than outsiders, but they were still generally around moderate tier. Oliver, Rose, and Beryl would’ve been little but liabilities against a monster like that.
Still, that was over a month ago. She had almost certainly returned to Correntry by now, perhaps taken on another job. Oliver found himself looking down at the stark white of his new tunic. Avis had advised against such a bright garment for the road, where it would inevitably get dirtied, but Oliver had insisted. Besides, he thought that a road-worn white tunic was the perfect garment for a member of the Argent Order.
He wondered if Adeline would’ve approved of his purchases, and of his overall conduct on the job. Eventually, after much thought, Oliver decided she would’ve liked the tunic, but scolded him for letting a simple personality clash escalate the way it had with Beryl. Things had been better since the stormstrike stag fight, and Jellis’s amenities had allowed all three of them to relax in a way they hadn’t in a long time, but for a short while, their conflict had had the potential to jeopardize their success.
Soon thereafter, Oliver found himself toying with one of the loops on the cloak Adeline had given him. As promised, the garment had proven its worth on the road, the magical material keeping him cool even as summer hit its stride, and the fabric had proven plenty resilient to dirt and stains. But he still hadn’t used the feature Adeline had shown him, the ability to pull the cloak up and turn it into a makeshift dress.
Oliver hadn't spent much time thinking about the nature of that present, almost as if he had consciously avoided it–because, of course, he had. His habitual discomfort in his own skin was something he had carried with him for so long that it was easier to dodge the complex tangle of thoughts and feelings than to actually deal with it. In its own way, Adeline’s parting gift had been a message that he needed to move past that, that there were people who would accept him even if he embraced that part of h–
But he hadn’t. He had never spoken out loud about his dysphoria, and it had become a weight in his heart that he had no idea how to let go of. Maybe he just needed to open up, just a little bit.
“Well, well, well. Haven’t seen them around town.”
Oliver blinked, drawn out of his reverise at Beryl’s words. He turned in the direction of the brawny girl’s gaze and saw what had caught her attention. A pair of strangers had entered the inn, clearly travelers by their garb.
The man in the front was unremarkable enough, leaving aside his height. He loomed over his companion, dressed in simple travel clothes. A tattered canvas cloak draped down below his knees, but Oliver caught sight of multiple straps and bags underneath it. His plain brown eyes surveyed the room, and Oliver shivered a little as they passed on his table.
“That man’s dangerous,” he said quietly.
“You think so?” Rose asked. “He looks like a vagabond.”
His time amongst the nobility of Elliven had exposed Oliver to far more high-level gifted than Rose or Beryl, as they were more common in the bastions than the trade cities. He knew how to note the careful balance, the liquid grace, the perfect conservation of movement high level battle-gifted possessed. More than that, the man’s gaze clearly saw more than it should. Elway had given Oliver a similar feeling, but this man was another order of magnitude all together.
“He’s high level,” Oliver insisted.
“What about the kid?” Beryl asked.
‘Kid’ was a little diminutive for the tall man’s companion, as he looked to be about the same age as the three of them. He was thin and short, only a little bigger than Rose, but he had none of the healer’s frailty about him. His leathers emphasized the taut, clean lines of his body, and despite his age, his face had a deep suntanned appearance. What hair peaked out from under the baggy cap he wore, was a brilliant shade of sky blue, hinting at northern ancestry just as much as Beryl’s short, mossy green cut.
All three recognized the boy’s body language. He was clearly subordinate to the tall man, his eyes sweeping through the room curiously but occasionally flitting back to the lead man as if looking for direction. When his gaze found the three of them, a small smile brightened his face and he nodded his head in a tentative greeting.
Oliver frowned, confused by the friendly gesture, but Rose and Beryl both tilted their glasses in a little greeting of their own.
“He’s sort of cute,” Rose murmured.
“There’s something weird about them,” Oliver noted.
“Oh, be nice,” Rose scolded him quietly.
Beryl frowned and turned back to them. “He’s got an awareness boon,” she commented. “He heard you.”
“What?”
Oliver looked over, but the two were already moving towards the stairs to the private rooms. As if sensing his attention, the tall man turned to look straight at Oliver. He winked a green eye, then he was gone.
“You don’t think they’re related to the attacks, do you?” Rose asked.
Oliver pursed his lips thoughtfully, then shook his head. “No, it doesn’t fit them. From what I read about necromancy, the gifts tend to cause some noticeable physical degradation.”
“Then what’s so weird?”
Oliver frowned. “I don’t know.” His eyes drifted to the stairs again, and he couldn’t suppress a little shudder.
“I’ll say this though. We’ve gotta hope they're not in on the attacks.”
Rose tilted her head. “Why?”
“Because. I’m pretty sure that man could go through this town like a scythe through grain.”
Beryl snorted. “You think he’s that strong? He didn’t look all that impressive to me.”
Oliver shook his head. “The way he moved… I knew a couple Experts, before I left Elliven. I’ll bet you anything he could give them a run for their money.”
“Well. Maybe we’ll go talk to Elway tomorrow, if you’re that alarmed,” Rose suggested.
Oliver frowned. The prospect of talking to Elway wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world after their confrontation. “Maybe.”
Still, more than the mysterious man, Oliver couldn’t get the blue-haired boy out of his head. There was something odd about him. Something he couldn’t quite place.
Oliver just couldn’t shake the feeling it hadn’t been happenstance that brought them in the door. He couldn’t help but think that those two arriving in Jellis was somehow very, very important.
END OF PART THREE