Tag: epic-fantasy

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It was difficult to believe they had managed to break every window on the first floor of the tavern. Cat didn’t remember throwing so many people out of windows, though he did recall aiming for the unbroken ones at one point. There was actually a hole in the wall near one window where he had missed. To be fair, the walls were pretty thin, and the soldier hadn’t even gone all the way through. The night’s conflict could have been so much simpler if the soldiers hadn’t joined in.

Seleger hadn’t gone down with just one punch, and the ensuing scuffle caused one of the Sulwood guards to try and pry them apart. Cat had picked the guard up with one arm and slammed him through one of the tables. At that point, all of the Sulwood soldiers joined the fray, and the night really started to get out of hand. Sergeant Lovine wisely moved the Ironwood contingent out of the way into an unoccupied corner, content to let the Sulwoods beat Catwright into submission. Unfortunately, from the perspective of many of the patrons, Catwright looked like someone being persecuted, with his wild yells and righteous fury keeping him swinging far longer than anyone thought possible. Before long, half the tavern had joined the fight on Catwright’s side. Then, the rest of the crowd joined in a savage free-for-all of destruction. Mecrans did tend to enjoy a good fight, especially after a few drinks.

Thankfully, no one had died. No one really even needed a healer. It took less than ten minutes for Beldere and Natalia to arrive, yet the damage was already done. The building was still standing, but all the windows on the first floor were at least cracked; most of them were completely shattered. In one case, the wooden frame had broken outward with the spiderwebbed glass mostly intact. No one had unveiled any destructive magic, so the structure was still sound; however, almost all the tables, chairs, and the bar itself were smashed to kindling. The tavern keeper was screaming into Seleger’s face until Natalia’s gold mollified him. Cat could tell that a hundred gold pieces was a lot, even for her, and she was not happy about it. The druid had sharp words for Seleger, Catwright, and her soldiers. She told the boys that she would find a way for them to repay her in a tone that made the hairs on Cat’s neck stand up.

Cat and Seleger spent most of the morning bickering while they helped clean up the mess.

“If you had just kept your lips latched…” Cat began.

“My lips? You could have had a lovely evening with several lovely-lipped ladies if you hadn’t thrown a tantrum!” Seleger countered, and Cat knew he could not win a war of words with the other boy. It was with some satisfaction that Cat saw there were still some unhealed bruises on his friend’s face. Beldere had walked away in disgust once he saw none of the wounds were serious, refusing to pray for any of them.

It was around mid-morning that Dain caught up with them. There was a whoosh of air, creating a stirring of dust and debris, and suddenly Seleger’s father was there atop Feingar, scaring the feces out of the locals and looking with amusement at the tavern repairs in progress. A dark look from Natalia quickly turned his face wryly serious. She was radiantly furious in a light green riding dress, her hair had a reddish hue to it this morning which set off the rubies in her ears. “Should I even ask?” was all he said.

“I’m sure you can surmise all that you need from a look, husband. I shall fill you in on the details later. For now, we have more urgent matters to discuss, and I must speak to the magistrate to see that these reckless rapscallions are not locked up or conscripted for labor.” She leaped lightly up behind her husband, and Feingar shuffled off in the direction of the plea hall.

“If something were to happen to your father,” Cat whispered solemnly to Seleger, “I might let your mother take my virginity.” Seleger’s elbow to his ribs was swift and brutal. Cat accepted it with a quiet grunt and a smile.

They lost a day assisting with repairs and in negotiations with the local officials. Natalia’s influence and coins kept everyone out of trouble, and Dain took the opportunity to inform the party about the nature of the meeting of lords. The news was not entirely surprising for anyone. King Mecre had been warning of the rising Ssythe threat for years; it was just strange to absorb the reality. Dain would need to send a few soldiers but would not be going himself, being more of an administrator now than a soldier. Half of Ironwood garrison, however, including Cat’s father, would be mobilizing and heading south after barely a three-week break.

They arrived in Osenvale in the afternoon of the eleventh day of travel from Breckan’s Hold. The city glowed with the fine white stone from which its walls were carved. It was said that an enchantment could be activated that would blind incoming enemies, though it had not been used in living memory. Cat supposed that at certain times of day, the wall would be blinding without the need for magic, if one assumed, of course, that the sun was somehow not magical.

Soaring spires erupted from the center of the city. Some of the buildings were over two hundred feet high. There was a sky dock which would supposedly accommodate everything from small personal flying craft, such as a rich merchant might own, to great void craft which could journey to the moons or even other suns. There were two lumbering airships ponderously floating over the skyline as they approached the city. Cat had heard that they were impractical craft, expensive to maintain, and only used occasionally for observation or novelty. He could see their use as a security measure, or perhaps to oversee a battlefield, if only they weren’t so slow and fragile.

Cat hoped to see some of the magic beasts which the sky knights rode, perhaps even a dragon, then he remembered that they usually traveled invisibly or by teleportation to avoid attention. His eyes did widen, however, as they entered the eastern gate to the cacophony of noise and chaos of colors and activity. It had been nearly a decade since he had been here for his father’s promotion ceremony, and his memories did not do justice to the variety that assaulted his senses. Shops lined both sides of the cobbled streets, with people shouting to each other and passersby. Clothing colors from dark black to sparkling green to bright white dazzled the eye. He did not recall all the different varieties of skin color humans could have, from pale shades of ivory to dark obsidian.

A cool ocean breeze brought scents of salt, fish, spices, and perfume. Some made his mouth water, some made his stomach churn, most he could not name. The variety of other races also astounded him. There were smallfolk, including Lomeli and Mosslings, and various fey, including the Elydrean, tall beautiful humanoids with unnatural grace. He saw a few beastkin, including Taurians, huge bestial folk with bovine heads. For some reason, it was the Dwalvin that caught his eye. He had never seen the dour, normally reclusive mountain dwellers before, and if he had not seen pictures, he might have thought them to be a group of abnormally tall and stout humans. The six males averaged about six and a half feet tall, like the Elydrean, but where the Ely were slim with fine, angled features, the Dwalvin had flat, blunt features, with thick dark beards and likely all weighed over three hundred pounds. They were not fat, however; their bare, thickly muscled arms were covered with tattoos and runes. They looked upon everyone and everything with suspicion and disdain, which was not uncommon from the elder races. Cat was distracted from this novelty by a not-so-subtle hand signal from Seleger. “Four Ssythe, front left.”

Cat tried not to stare, but his glance to the left made him pause. This was another race he had not seen in the flesh, and though the war with them ended over forty years ago, it was almost unheard of to see them in a Mecran city. The four lizard folk towered above the humans in the marketplace, who gave them a wide berth. Their long, flat snouts filled with jagged, protruding teeth were intimidating to behold, and their high-set yellow eyes were focused on his own. All four gazed with a predatory intensity they didn’t try to hide, and Cat stared right back. Ssythe were fast, ferocious warriors with powerful legs, a strong, nimble tail, and sharp claws and teeth. And while they were a lethal threat to any dozen normal humans, they were not a threat to their party. A Mecran soldier could generally go toe-to-toe with one of the creatures and come out on top, and when the soldiers worked together, their strength was only multiplied, whereas Ssythe fought with little organization and tended to get in each other’s way, sometimes snapping at each other in their blood lust. The soldiers about them took notice, however, and tightened up their formation around the caravan.

“Are you trying to provoke them?” Seleger hissed. “They’re probably just tourists,” he continued unconvincingly.

“They’re staring at me.”

“That’s what they do; they stare! It’s not about you. They were probably just curious about the caravan and the giant bear, but now you’ve singled yourself out by locking eyes.” Cat remembered learning about that somewhere now that he thought about it. He looked away immediately, yet he could still feel their eyes on him as they crossed the marketplace.

Reaching the top of a rise on the way to the high citadel, the city spread out before them, nestled against the Endless Sea. Two great harbors flanked the western wall, one to the north filled with a variety of fishing vessels and the southern wharves dedicated to great naval warships. They traveled south along a wide ridge line with the festival and competition grounds on a massive two-hundred-acre, man-made plateau to their right, between them and the military harbor. Cat could see and hear that the harvest celebration was already in full swing with music, choreographed dancing, and livestock shows. The bright colors of the various banners and tents were an assault on his eyes. The jousting, archery, and single combat arenas were mostly empty since the elimination rounds didn’t start for another two days.

The citadel dominated the landscape to the south, a layered structure on the tallest hill overlooking the city just southeast of the naval harbor. Multiple semi-circular walls surrounded a towering, gleaming white structure that could accommodate most of the city if needed. Giant ballistae lined the battlements; the weapons, vaguely shaped like crossbows and twenty feet wide, could punch a hole in a hull two miles away. The enchanted munitions could shatter most warships with a direct hit. Cat had trained with them briefly, still he barely understood how the complex network of pulleys and levers worked, but their effectiveness made storming a fortification like this unthinkable.

The gates of the fortification yielded with the briefest of acknowledgments, the arriving company being expected and bearing the banners of House Sulwood. And none could mistake the sight of Feingar, a mount such as few soldiers, officers, or even the highborn could claim. The Duke and Duchess offered a formal greeting in the sun-dappled courtyard, beneath the venerable shade of four towering elderwood trees, as was the custom of Mecre. The rulers of Osenvale, both in their middle years of their sixth decade, yet healthy and strong of bearing, stood ready. Duke Castor Jemelyn, a veteran of the Ssythe wars following the invasion of Mecre, was lauded for his valor, though his ducal seat had descended to him by ancient right. Duchess Evanna Jemelyn of the ancient House Tarymthold traced her lineage to the times before the War of the Dead, her kin whispered to possess blood that ran long and true, often past the span of a hundred years, lending credence to tales of fey ancestry. The Jemelyn kin were numerous, and many were gathered, a sprawling assembly of nobility gathered to behold the newcomers from a town whose name likely many of them had never heard.

Cat then noticed Seleger’s smile, a look like a hungry falcon spotting a plump flock of pigeons in a courtyard. Following that gaze revealed the grandchildren and cousins, mostly between the marriageable ages of fifteen and twenty-five, with the fairer sex outnumbering the lads by a good measure. Many of them fixed the two young men with gazes that held a certain sharp intent, like sleek hunting cats assessing a new prize to adorn their chambers. Cat had to admit they held a certain allure; he was a youth barely out of boyhood, and here was a gathering of comely and well-favored ladies regarding him with acquisitive eyes. Yet, the very notion of marriage and binding vows, of settling in one place, filled him with a dread akin to the idea of being sold into service. He had too many roads to travel, too many wonders to behold. He could see the wisdom in cultivating a philosophy like Seleger’s: to taste the fruit but not be bound to the orchard.

After what seemed like hours of formality, they were finally shown to their rooms. He was given a tour of a lavish apartment, with a separate bedroom, enclosed bathroom, full kitchen, and entry sitting area. The place even had magical plumbing. He tried to act nonchalant, as if he was used to such opulence, but when they indicated it was his room alone, his jaw nearly hit the floor. The whole facet could sleep in this place, he thought. He explored the amenities for a few minutes and then wasted no time finding the practice grounds, his armor appearing on his body as he walked. After practicing for hours with a set of light plate mail borrowed from the Sulwoods, he ultimately was able to achieve the feat of equipping the entire set from his pendant’s spatial storage. It wasn’t a matter of equipping everything at once; he had to focus on one piece at a time and make sure everything was already buckled and adjusted perfectly. It had been painstaking at first, but now he could be fully armored in seconds.

Thirty minutes and fifteen opponents later, Seleger pulled him aside. “Somehow, I knew I would find you here. A couple of your old friends arrived. They have a message for you but didn’t want to pass it on; they wanted to tell you in person.”

“Who?”

“Two of those mercenaries, Garreth of the Hairy Face and the pretty lady with all the daggers. Looks like she’d stab you if you tried for a kiss.”

“Gemma, and yes, she probably would stab you.”

“Might be worth it. I’ll think it over.” He actually looked like he was doing just that. Seleger led Cat through the wide courtyard, up several flights of stairs, and down a long hallway to a well-furnished study. Cat saw nine guards for the three exits, and already seated in the room were Duke Jemelyn next to another man in his sixties with a slimmer frame and a harder, more dour demeanor. Also present were Natalia, Dain, Garreth, Gemma, Sergeant Lovine, Beldere, and three guard captains Cat didn’t recognize. They all straightened and regarded the two boys as they entered. The atmosphere looked tense and uncomfortable.

“No need to stand, everyone; it’s just us!” Seleger boomed into the awkward silence. Natalia grimaced, Dain sighed, the Duke smiled, and the tension was broken. Cat still felt under dressed; he was in his simple travel uniform, which was rumpled and sweat-stained from his thirty-minute workout with the armor on top of it.

Gemma gave him one of her sardonic smiles. “I just don’t see what they want to pay all that gold for.” Then the discussion started in earnest. Cat learned that there was a bounty on him from the slaver’s guild for ten thousand gold. This didn’t surprise him greatly since his father claimed to have been offered five times as much, yet this was from the slavers, not the Ssythe directly. What was more disturbing were the rumors and information provided by the two mercenaries that pointed to the Gavanti, the shadowy organization behind the slavers, and the agents of the Ssythe working together. Garreth believed they were inciting some of the larger mercenary companies with more impulsive leadership to take up the bounty. Gemma’s informants believed the Ssythe were donating heavily to the Gavanti coffers for their help in pulling this off, their intent being to purchase Catwright from the slavers for use in some arcane ritual to benefit one of their high-ranking leaders. Duke Jemelyn seemed dismissive of the idea that one of the mercenary companies, or even all of them together, could make off with a slave bounty in Osenvale.

“Where would they go?” he reasoned. “They would need a local teleportation portal set up or someone with the power to pull it off on their own, and we could track them. Someone that powerful would not go unnoticed here. If they tried to escape by mundane means, our soldiers would catch them before they made it out of the gates.”

“What about a ship?” Natalia asked.

“Too slow,” one of the guard captains answered. “There’s nothing in the harbor that could outrun our galleons. There are also dozens of druids and priests within the city, including yourself, my lady, who could halt any ship on the water within line of sight.”

“An airship?” Seleger asked.

The Duke hesitated a moment, then shook his head. “If something of military class came inbound, we could investigate, but the vessels in the city now are slower merchant vessels. We also have at least three sky knights within our walls, any of whom are more than a match for one of those ballooned cargo ships.” He looked at his guests, particularly Seleger and Natalia, pausing briefly. “We will increase the patrols throughout the city to ward off any mischief, but I honestly doubt anyone would try something. We are not Praxallis or Arksellum,” he said with pride. He gestured to the man sitting beside him as he stood, prompting everyone else in the room to stand as well. “I have other matters to attend to, but my Steward, Lord Kagin, is quite capable and will be at your disposal.” Without further ado, the duke left the room along with all nine guards, and everyone looked to Lord Kagin.

“To those of you I haven’t met, my name is Daker Kagin, and among other things, I am responsible for the security and welfare of all the guests who stay within the citadel or any of the local estates owned or managed by the duchy.” He had remained standing but now motioned for everyone to sit, and did so himself. “I would like to begin by having us share any information we might have on the local instigators of this bounty and anyone in the area who might have the means to actually attempt it.” His voice was smooth and cultured, and he seemed to meet the gaze of everyone in the room at once. “I apologize that our own intelligence on the matter is rather limited; our enemies generally don’t blend in well, but I understand that is changing. The Ssythe and the Gavanti both have places of worship within the city, and many have made this city their home. It seems strange considering our past conflicts, but concessions have been made on both sides. The church wants peace and intermingling of the factions, while the military wants more soldiers and better equipment. The council of druids preach tolerance, while the king wants war. Certain organizations are taking advantage of citizen conflict to incite violence. We believe powerful mentalists or masters of learvadol, the veil of deceit, or perhaps both are involved and directly manipulating susceptible members of the population. We have captured ringleaders who had no idea what they had done or why, and others who had sudden flare-ups of rage which were out of character and unexplained. Any other information you could add may be useful.”

What followed was an eye-opening conversation for the young warriors who had been relatively isolated in their small communities. Apparently, there were several known criminal institutions that owned property, bought and sold goods, and normally operated legally within many Mecran cities. Natalia was a surprisingly rich source of information. She believed that these merchants were not just there for the profit of buying and selling Mecran goods but also to ensure they had the opportunity to plant spies and operatives in key locations. She knew of at least three factions who had people at the gates and reported to their superiors when the company from Breckan’s Hold entered the city.

Gemma’s mercenary company, the Red Blades, had also looked into the creature offering the bounty at the information brokers’ guild. It turned out that the aberration was called Trellix and was a highly respected Ssythe operative with powerful psychic abilities working directly for someone called the Unseen. Dain and Natalia looked at each other with concern, and Kastin grew even more intent. Gemma just looked at Kastin with a slightly coy smile, which Cat knew meant she was up to something.

“I’m impressed by your resourcefulness, young lady. I assume you have more to offer, for a price?”

“You are correct, Lord Kastin. I am authorized and would be happy to negotiate on behalf of the Red Blades. My company is quite specialized and experienced in the field of information.” Gemma was suddenly all business; it was like she transformed into a different person. Her back straightened, and her eyes focused. The discussion that followed was educational in more ways than one. Even Dain and Natalia seemed impressed. Cat had known that knowledge was valuable in any form of conflict, but he hadn’t realized just how much a city lord would pay for such a service.

Everyone had at least some form of input, with Garreth admitting that his guild wanted to stay out of any potential conflict within Osenvale and that he was here on his own, not representing Beornen’s Barbarians. The guard captains had relatively little to offer, considering it was their city. Apparently, very little crime was committed out in the open. For the most part, they knew only what the more friendly druids chose to tell them. The ability to see and listen through the eyes and ears of nearby animals was very useful for information gathering. Natalia pointed out that whoever they were up against was wise to the tricks of druids, as some of her critters had been lost when getting too close to certain areas, and no, she was not willing to risk more innocent animals to map out these dens in greater detail.

Gemma earned every coin by providing a list of locations and individuals to watch and the names of three of the major mercenary companies that had been approached by the Ssythe’s agents directly.

“Most of the shady deals are happening on the north side of the city near the commercial harbor, in that lane of taverns and brothels you call the Brineway. Mercenaries and other thugs are talking to that creepy broker, Trellix, and his cronies.” She glanced at some notes she had unfolded from her pocket. “The Obsidian Tears went into Wendel’s Wench tavern with their leader and three lieutenants and were talking about the gold like it was already theirs to spend when they left. My sources say they were not interested in the bounty three days ago. The Aether Drifters and the Taurgonaughts also seem to be interested. The Drifters are good at keeping secrets because we don’t have anything else on them other than they usually only take on small jobs. The Taurgonaughts,” she laughed, “well, they’re all Taurians, renowned for taking on idiotic assignments, being susceptible to mental influence, and being too arrogant to care. The Drifters and the Taurians are relatively small groups, less than forty members each. The Tears are more of a problem, being close to a thousand strong with some serious heavy hitters and a lot of other connections in the guilds and other companies. They came all the way from Merekar, and most have never been on Mecran lands before, which might make them stupid enough to try something.” She paused dramatically. “There’s another group moving in the shadows. We’ve spotted them a couple of times on rooftops or tailing our people. Whoever they are, they are very skilled at stealth, including avoiding all forms of magical tracking. We don’t know whose side they’re on.” She looked to the Steward and shrugged.

“I assume your soldiers have ways to keep track of you all?” Kagin looked pointedly at Lovine.

“We have a druid who can link everyone and has bonded everyone, including Lord and Lady Sulwood, their son, and his ward.” He was referring to Spikey, of course. Druids could create natural bonds with all living things just by being around them, though Cat’s understanding was that the connections formed naturally; one just had to know how to look for them.

“I can also sense everyone in our party,” Beldere put in. Priests generally had a slightly harder time bonding than druids, and they generally could not link with someone against their will.

“That’s good to know. I will make arrangements for escorts for you all while in the city. Please submit your itineraries this evening.” So much for having some freedom, Cat thought.

It was a lot to take in. They adjourned shortly after, with Gemma promising to deliver daily reports to Kagin. Natalia was coordinating to increase what, in Cat’s opinion, was an already ridiculous guard to an even larger number of soldiers. Dain was giving Seleger pointers on what to look out for. Garreth approached Catwright while the others were talking.

“My company commander would like to meet you if you have some time, Cat.”

“A recruiting pitch?” Cat smiled. He had heard more than a few people commenting that his talents wouldn’t go unnoticed by the gathered companies in Osenvale and speculating on how much he could get as a starting wage.

“Something like that, more of an evaluation. You’ll probably like him; he likes to challenge everyone who looks tough, just like you.”

Cat just nodded. “I’m sure Beldere can find you. Maybe tomorrow? Early evening?”

“Sounds good, Cat,” he gave a sly smile. “Good idea to have Beldere along; you’ll probably need him.” With that one comment, the large, hairy man couldn’t have baited the hook any better. Cat just smiled.