Story 1
Chapter 1
“The first step in any good recipe is gathering the ingredients.”
The door to the tavern flew
open as Salla Frindane entered the Moon’s Coin.
The building had a sign of a silver piece cut in the shape of a
moon. Probably to suggest how cheap
their drinks are, Salla thought. The
female swordswoman quickly glared at all the tavern customers causing them to
quickly turn away and resume their business.
Salla usually did make an entrance, but she never liked the
attention. I have to remain calm there
is a prospective buyer for my services.
Then again, maybe he will see the fire and spirit that I bring and
consider me a better candidate.
Salla took
out the note from her belt pouch and read it over again. It said to look for a
man in red robes at the Moon’s Coin. The
note also said that only female adventurers need apply. Well, if the man wanted to try anything
suspicious, Salla would be ready with a dagger through his hand. Maybe he’s just one of those eccentric types,
or maybe he thinks that women mercenaries were cheaper than men. But for four hundred gold pieces she would
ignore these mild details and just keep up her guard.
She saw
the red robed man sitting at a table in the corner of the inn. He was eating a steak and some bread with
cheese and talking to a young woman dressed in simple leathers. Probably my competition. The swordswoman hurried over and sat in the
unoccupied seat.
“Look, you
shouldn’t hire this girl. It looks like
she can barely hold a sword. Now, I’ve
been a skilled mercenary for five years now, trained since birth by my
parents.” Salla blurted before she could think.
The red
robed man turned to her and stopped his conversation with the other woman. He had black hair and piercing green eyes
that evaluated her in a few seconds.
“How rude of you to interrupt my conversation,” he said, “but I like
your initiative. There’s more than one
spot available for this adventure. Relax
and I will get to you in a minute.”
Salla
blushed, but whether from her rash behavior or the man’s compliment she did not
know. She waved to the bar keep for a
local ale and a small serving of ham and bread.
The journey to this small town had taken a long time and she had not had
anything to eat since morning. A serving
girl, a young blonde with pigtails, placed the food in front of her and took a
few coppers. Quietly, she ate her meal
and listened to the conversation.
“So you’re
a rogue from Calias. Do you have any
special skills?” The man asked.
The woman
from Calias looked younger than Salla, her blond hair was shorter and her
complexion was much darker. She paused
for a second and thought about his question.
She pulled out a dagger and threw it at the dartboard on the far side of
the room. It stabbed into the bull’s-eye
and startled the dart players there.
“Great,
but I’ve met many rogues who could hit targets like that.” In an instant the young woman pulled more
daggers from secret pockets in her sleeves, and threw two more of her long
knives touching the first dagger. Salla
was impressed by her speed and accuracy.
“I can
also pick most locks and can use a bow just as well,” the woman answered.
“Very
well. You are hired, Miss Arana
Shevian. You’ll be the rogue for my
group. Here is 20 gold up front for any
expenses that you will require.”
“Make it
30 gold, and we have a deal.” Arana
reached her hand out.
The red
robed man narrowed his eyes and sighed.
“Women,” he muttered. “Okay, the
deal is agreed upon,” he added a handful of coins into a brown pouch and handed
it to Arana. “We start tomorrow around
midafternoon. I’ve also rented a room at
the Fancy Cloud Inn for you and this woman if she joins as well. ”
“No need,
I have other arrangements.” And with
that the rogue left the tavern.
“She might
be more trouble than she’s worth.” He
placed a napkin over his unfinished steak and left a few silvers on the
table. “Not easy to digest, this
steak. Needs more sauce and its far more
cooked than I would have liked. Now for
you, Miss--?”
“Salla
Frindane, wandering knight and mercenary.
And you are?”
“Izarin Pendren,”
he gave a short nod. “I’ll be the leader
of the group but you can handle all the battles should we encounter any. I’ll give you thirty gold pieces upfront but
all your meals and provisions are up to you.
Do we have a deal?”
“First I
need some details. What is it we’re
searching for?
“I’d
rather not go into the full story, but,” he paused and rubbed the stubble on
his chin, “we need to get ingredients for something I’m working on. Somewhat hard to find, magical
ingredients. The first is in the
Firebreath Mountains, a particular herb that requires proper cultivation. After that, well, let’s talk about that in
the morning.”
Salla
Frindane nodded, accepted the coins that Izarin offered and retired to her room
in the inn. The accommodations were
poorer than what she expected from a town this large, but because of her long
travel across three towns, she fell asleep in a few moments. She took as much rest as she could because
she would probably need it for whatever strange things the man would ask her to
do.
~~~
Outside
the village were fields and farmlands with large paved roads that bisected the
openness. Far in the distance to the
northeast was a large mountain range occasionally one of these mountains had
fiery rivulets streaming from its peak.
“What path
should we take? There are two roads that
lead to the Firebreath Mountains, one is longer but more traveled and. It should be safer. The other path to the east is shorter but
more hazardous.”
“Well, the
longer path will give me more time to gather herbs. But I don’t want to concern myself with the
details. I’ll leave it up to you
two.” The thief shrugged at this and
just waved a hand in dismissal. “Well, I
guess you can make the choice then, Miss Frindane.”
“Just Salla.
No need to be too formal with me.
But why do you trust us so quickly?”
She had not meant to say the last part out loud but it escaped her
lips.
“I can
sense that you two are trustworthy. Call
it intuition, but I believe you’ll honor our contract, Salla.” Izarin smiled.
Izarin had
arranged for a few horses for the trio to ride.
The robed man’s white horse looked to be of a better breed than Salla’s
and Arana’s grey mares. The women’s
horses were shorter and stouter and looked like donkeys in comparison. He also arranged for traveling gear and
enough provisions to last for a few weeks.
How long exactly would their little adventure be?
“Two weeks,
maybe three at the most. It depends on
how long it takes to find the ingredients.
I suppose the second ingredient should be the most difficult to obtain
but we’ll get there when we get there.”
Salla needed to guard her mouth more closely. Who knew what secrets she might divulge? “Do you have anything to add, Arana?”
“No, Lord Pendren. I don’t really like to talk.” Arana sped up her horse and galloped out of
their range.
“Lord
Pendren?” Salla asked.
“Caliasans
usually talk in that manner, always proper using titles and last names with
their employers. Though I doubt she
would use the same honorifics with you.”
“And why
not?”
“She’ll
see you as someone that’s on her level which means you get a stronger sense of
familiarity to share with each other.” Izarin adjusted his long sleeves. “Miss Shevian is a peculiar girl.”
“Aren’t we
all peculiar? We should hurry up then,
there’s a good campsite we can reach if we push our horses a little.” Salla kicked her horse into a gallop and
followed after the rogue.
Izarin
simply smiled and followed after his new companions.
~~~
It was
midday but the sun had been covered by a few clouds that blocked off the light
making it seem like they had spent a lot more time travelling than a few
hours. If Salla had had a horse when she
made the trip to this town, it would have only taken her a day. And she wouldn’t have had to rough it,
clutching her sword tightly in her sleep.
There was a strange calming effect that came from travelling with these
two; having comrades was comforting even if they were strangers.
The
campfire in the small hollow they found had been used by many travelers. Salla remembered this spot because she had
used it the day previous when she journeyed to meet Izarin.
“Why did
you put out these fliers for only women adventurers, Izarin? Did you think that we’d be easier to control
or maybe cost less than a male adventurer?”
There was no hate in her voice; instead her words were tempered with
curiosity.
“I have hired many people on my
travels, Miss Frindane. All kinds of
people from different races, genders and nations. It is in my experience that, women are
better, in general, in separating their emotion from their task, but are quick
to show compassion when needed. Men
will, more often than not, stick to a sense of duty and fulfill the objective
no matter the cost. We are not out to
save the world, Salla. I don’t need
heroes where I am going. And I would
much rather journey with friendlier companions than cold battle hardened
warriors.” He gave her his most
heartening smile.
“You’ve
assigned me with details, battle should we engage in it, as well as other
details. So I have to ask you, Izarin,
if you can defend yourself if we get attacked.”
“I can
handle myself just fine, Salla. If I
really have to fight, then I will. Don’t
worry about me.”
She
nodded. Good. Her employer seemed to have a reasonable head
on his shoulders.
Izarin
knelt beside a small pot filled with a deep brown stew made with different
meats and vegetables he took out from his saddle bags. He stirred the pot with a wooden ladle and
threw in a pinch of different herbs.
Some needed to be crushed in a tiny mortar and pestle, others he simply
pulled and shredded with deft fingers.
Normally
it would take an hour for a stew to boil and simmer but somehow Izarin had
managed to get it started in only 10 minutes.
Perhaps the red robed man knew some trick to keeping the wood a high
temperature. Salla hadn’t been paying
attention, but the rumbling of her stomach colored her cheeks and made her
stare at the stew.
He ladled
some of the stew into three ceramic bowls and passed them out to Salla and
Arana. The thief took her bowl, nodded
to Izarin and sat down on a faraway log.
She ate her stew in silence.
“If you
don’t mind, Izarin, I would like to ask more questions about this job.” Salla took one of the bowls and sat across
from the man in charge. She didn’t know
if it was hunger, but the stew tasted like the best meal she had eaten in a
while.
“Sure, go
ahead.”
“Could you
tell me about yourself?”
“What you
see is who I am. I used to be an
adventurer when I was younger, but I’ve settled down now, I still travel now
and then especially when I have need of ingredients.” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “I’m no one of particular interest.”
“I
see. And these ingredients we’re looking
for. What exactly are they used
for? Some alchemical potion or evil
ritual?”
“Nothing
for evil purposes, I can assure you.”
Salla
thought we would speak more of the subject, but Izarin was tightlipped.
“I only have you to talk to,
boss. It doesn’t seem like the thief is
the type for conversation.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll
open up with time. I know the
type.” There was a slight gleam in his
eyes. Izarin began to clean up the camp.
With their stew finished, the
trio mounted their horses and set off once more towards the mountains.
~~~
“Give us
all your valuables and you will be harmed.”
The bandit grinned. There were
gaps in his teeth and Salla wanted to laugh.
The bandit leader’s wicked curved sword, a massive thing with a serrated
edge made her reconsider.
“Don’t you
mean ‘or you will be harmed?’” Salla asked.
“No,
little girl. We’ll harm you whatever you
do. But help us out and remove your
valuables so we don’t have to do the messy business of searching your corpses.” The bandit leader turned to his group of
bandits, six well-armed and well armored men.
If Salla
and her group each took two of the men and the bandits were unskilled in combat,
she could see success. Salla was not
accustomed to fighting on horseback so she got off her horse and stood in front
of the lead bandit. She saw that Arana
had also stood on her own feet. It was
said that rogues from Calias could strike with swiftness faster than a lancer
could charge on horseback. She would
have liked to witness it, but she could not afford to divide her
attention.
Izarin,
however, remained sitting atop his mount.
He looked at the swordswoman, “Think of this as your first test. Show me what you’ve got Miss Frindane.” It was easy for him to act all high and
mighty when safe on horseback away from the fighting.
With a graceful
flourish Salla unsheathed her sword and slashed at the bandit leader. Her movement was so fast that it caught him
off guard and cut off his sword arm. The
bandit leader crumpled to his knees, clutched his stump and screamed. Using her other hand she pulled out a dagger
and threw it at another bandit. It
caught him between the eyes and the blood that trickled out ran along an old
scar he had on his face.
She moved
her sword to block an attack from the third bandit, barely in time, and was
staggered by the attack. He used the
full force of his body to launch himself and his dull broadsword at Salla. She kicked out at the fourth bandit who
sought to take advantage of the opportunity, and then repaid his attack with
her sword in the unlucky thug’s stomach.
The
swordswoman threw her other dagger at the third bandit but he had enough time
to dodge out of the way. She parried and
twirled out of the bandit’s powerful attack, which again used too much upper
body strength, and then struck him with her sword. He collapsed on the ground and pulled Salla’s
sword down with his weight. She turned
and saw the bandit leader charging towards her with venomous fury.
Fiery light
spilled out of the air and encircled the bandit leader engulfing him in
magic. He burned instantaneously and
left only a pile of black dust.
Salla
yanked her sword free from the dead bandit and surveyed the scene. Arana was looting through the corpses of the
bandits she had killed and was pulling out the numerous daggers as well. The swordswoman thought she saw have a dozen
knife hilts pressed into one of their enemies.
She remounted her horse and turned to the red robed man.
“You’re a wizard?” Salla
asked.
“Well I’m not a priest,” he smiled. “Congratulations you’ve passed the test.”
“But I didn’t hear you saying
any magic words. How did you cast that
spell?”
“Magic works in strange
ways. I wouldn’t expect a warrior type
to understand that.” Izarin turned his
horse away and began moving away.
“Who are you really?”
“Just a humble Mage of the
Flame. No one important.”
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