Chapter 1 - Part I
The crisp, morning air slips through the cracks in the windows as the sun melts the night sky in the dark blue horizon. In the shadows of the barracks, the snores of sleeping soldiers begin to give way to the sounds of rustling blankets, cinching belt buckles and tired groans. You recognize some of the other White Guards from last night rolling off their hay-stuffed mattresses, noting the effort it requires for them simply to stare ahead with their pink, puffy eyes.
After gathering your things, you begin to make your way towards the western city gate, passing through the awakening street market. Farmers and merchants move about, methodically carrying out their morning routines, laying out wares for the day. As you pass, some take notice and nod briefly before returning to their tasks. The market square is full of kiosks and wooden stands wrapped in fabrics of colors bright and vibrant even in the low morning light. You could find just about anything here. Jewelry, silks, ironworks, fruits, vegetables, teas, coffee, meats, tools, oils, perfumes... The scent of spices and baked bread is everywhere.
When you finally arrive at Westgate clearing, golden light from the morning sun has just begun to peek from behind the horizon. The caravan lies before you in the midst of a flurry of activity. You notice a few dozen men and women, presumably of Hemming's employ, bustling about with last minute preparations, loading ten covered wagons of various sizes. The smallest wagons are hitched to horses of several breeds; bound to the largest wagon is a great white obi, shaggy haired beasts the size of four oxen. From behind the obi you then catch a glimpse of an unhitched, ornate carriage - out of place amongst the other, more utilitarian vehicles with its ornate, gilded accents, rich fabric linings and polished wood trimmings.
At the center of all this activity, you notice a small congregation. Even from behind, you quickly recognize the gray-blonde hair of Lieutenant Thorpe standing among them, speaking to a man who - much like the carriage - seems quite out of place surrounded by the dozens of working class scurrying about him. He wears a red hunting jacket and gold vest over a too-white shirt; a man in his late forties with salt and pepper hair, lightly browned skin with a thin, neatly trimmed moustache. He takes notice of you and turns to Thorpe, muttering a few words before returning to the others in the circle. Thorpe turns around, calling out in your direction.
"Djonn, come here."
"Djonn, this is Gaivus Hemming. Gaivus, this is Djonn Kolthus. He will be acting commanding officer for this company. Questions and concerns should be addressed to Djonn." Hemming gives Djonn a slight nod, and returns to the preparations.
Thorpe watches him for a moment before letting out a long sigh: "Come, Djonn. Let's look over the route to Paolou."
Djonn -
(within earshot of Silhainlé)Thorpe takes you a short distance away from the rest of the guard, gesturing to you to follow as he removes a roll of parchment from his coat pocket.
"We nearly lost this job to Macavel's outfit," he admits, his voice swollen with exhaustion and perhaps even regret. "Hemming knows they aren't worth nearly what we are, but when we went over incidental expenses he started to second guess going with us. Securing this contract required some compromise." His face seems drawn and pale. "I need you to follow this route instead," he says, dragging the tip of his finger along a thin line running just beneath the Western Road. "You'll follow the main road most of the way, but here," he indicates, tapping a small dot at the northernmost tip of Lake Eulemir. "Right here, your first stop is the Cossler estate."
"As part of negotiating this contract, we've agreed to use some of our local favors to avoid putting all of you up in taverns," he says, rolling up the map before handing it to you. "This means you won't have to sleep out in the cold every night. I've sent letters to the Cossler, Reminar, and Baelin estates. You may have met them before? They've each agreed to let the caravan stay for a night; they're willing to provide rooms for Hemming, his ranking attendants, and you; the rest of the guard and Hemming's men will sleep in the stables and barns. Hemming saves coin by not having to pay for rooms for forty people as well as avoiding the tolls at both Velwood and Gauston." With that, Thorpe rolls up the map, tying it with a thin, brown thread. "Any questions?"