Epsir

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

And that's why I should always refresh before posting something I've been typing for a long time.

Also accepted, the Milowagon is complete

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

"I'm pleased that we have come to such a complete understanding, friends," The woman said with a proper little laugh affixed to her speech. She stopped and looked over to Griff, figuring there wasn't such an easy way to avoid such a specific question. There was silence for a moment as she looked at the book, sizing it up for its value. "The book I was just going to keep and hand off to a collector or burn: It's hot enough already. The actual materials are all I want my client to know I had my hands in, and the book mentions some things that, oddly, were not aboard the ship when I got there. Unfortunate, but simply out of my hands if my shippers do not ship what they were bid to. They have their own well being to protect." Her disdain was purely whimsical; there was enough money in the deal without some anomalous logbooks. "I"m told that the buyer has the means to transport the surviving books and charts with him to wherever he hails from, so you understand my desire to appear equivalently armed. It's such a strange arrangement I would never believe it was true if I hadn't been paid in advance. Supposedly we are going to be signaled, if it's the deal itself you're curious about, so plenty of lounging and fraternizing to be done in the meantime if that's what you do."

Despite her relief to deviate from truthtelling, her voice became solemn as she acknowledged Crom's request, and if not for the subject matter it might have sounded like she was quoting something. "There is no greater tragedy than the death of merriment." Without being bid, one of the men at the back of the cart opened a small, decorated case different from the rest, sitting above the held in carts and not nailed shut. Inside were buckets of ice, not that the climate demanded it, and wine. The timing and the automation of the ceremony seemed to imply that this was the regular course of events for the hooded trader. "You'll have no need for flasks in my care," She said with unrestrained pride as she passed the box around. "Drink away the pain for now, and in a few minutes we will arrive in Loenn. Imagine that, no need for anesthetic!" A lurid grin punctuated her speech. "And after we're settled in we can conclude our business within the day, or perhaps night, and be gone from each other's lives forever. Unless you find yourself enjoying your adventure here."

John sighed and cracked a slight frown at the contents of the box he was handed. What I wouldn't give for some simple water, he thought, looking at the expensive looking label of the orange-ish looking beverage, named something unpronounceable to him even with (what little remained) of his formerly high born education. He handed it over to Crom, knowing the man had a far larger appetite for alcohol than he did. Maybe Griff would appreciate it too, taking up strange bargains was always a lot easier when drunk. For once that day, he had the time to sit and think. Idly, he fiddled with a patch and a needle as the woods around Loenn blew by in mottled shades of green and white. Their hosts seemed rather tense to be moving through the woods, and it may have been rubbing off on him but he felt distinctly uncomfortable where he sat, a rarity for a man familiar with bedding among rocks. Just my nerves, he decided, and embroidered on. "How's the wine?" He asked eventually, succumbing to a want for conversation.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Accepted

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

John sat back and waited for an answer. Crom was right to question the nature of the deal, although she had promised to see Crom attended immediately. So long as they weren't hurting anyone, he'd skirted the line between legality and illegality, sometimes unintentionally, before and didn't so much mind it. The woman clearly wasn't interested in his help in particular anyway, so he figured if anything he wouldn't be the one doing anything particularly awful. At face value, what she was proposing wasn't so bad. They do this for that, and everyone walks away happy. That was setting things right, alright, but there was something simply wrong with the whole affair. At any rate, he didn't have much more to say, and consigned his time to watching the trees go by as the cart raced along towards Loenn.

The woman canted her head and smiled brightly as Griff accepted. A cheery gesture devoid of spirit or enthusiasm in her case. That smile snapped away as soon as Crom took hold of his weapon. She didn't think he was going to draw on her on the back of a moving wagon in his state, but the audacity of it all gave her pause. No, no, this was something to overlook for the money, she reminded herself, glaring back at the wounded soldier in silence for a moment as she prepared her answers. "I want friends. The sort of people who can hold a sword with the stomach to use it as I require. If everything goes well, you need merely watch over these crates lest they take legs. Everything will go well if you work for me." A less affected and more felt smile crossed her face at that. A reputation little known but spotless was hers, and she had no qualms with pronouncing the operative details to the world. In answer to Crom's second question something moved underneath her cloak, and out came a white gloved hand holding a ragged looking log book. She tossed it gingerly on the floor of crates in front of the group, open to the first page listing dozens of entries that she felt were perhaps better voiced. "Star charts, maps, observation books and miscellaneous copied documents I was told are integral to some Arcarti scheme or another, that were supposed to be moved to Erschald or Lieda and destroyed post-haste. That's what brings me to Loenn. Most of these crates are filler items that are absolutely inefficient to just be lugging around, but such is the nature of the game." She sighed with regret, looking over the ponderous cargo that made up their seats.

"You're fortunate to receive this opportunity, for this operation is blessed. The ship my man brings me all of this wondrous cargo aboard was burnt to embers only mere hours after our transaction. Good timing is on my side." Perhaps others might not have seen it that way, but there was a vast quantity of money in the air here and the risk of failure wasn't a thought she could tolerate. She cleared her throat, preparing to cover the unpleasantries. "And if you refuse, as is the natural price now that you've asked too many questions, I can't let you walk free. Killing is such a dreadful business so I would prefer to simply deposit you on the outskirts of town. If you would impede my business, however, then you would be forcing my hand. I reiterate, you will be comfortably accommodated for a simpleton's work." She pulled a folded parasol from under her cloak and laid it across her lap as the caravan found its way onto less rugged, more open roads. The three other strangers aboard the caravan remained still and silent, calmly watching over the surroundings as good sentries did.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

As soon as the trio had boarded the cart, Marcus Wheeler whipped his reins and sent the horses down the road at a fairly faster pace than he'd been going at upon arrival. The cart had the usual troubles on uneven, snow covered terrain but their driver was clearly experienced and his horse team equally so because they made steady progress up the side of the mountain. They would be in Loenn quickly, at this rate. As they settled in atop the crates piled into the wagon, Johnathon set his bag down and was about to begin cutting into it with the scissors from his sewing kit when the hooded stranger spoke, curtly and with just a slight haughtiness. "That isn't going to help him much, but," a woman's voice trailed away in a transparent attempt to garner the group's anticipation. Whether or not it was that easy she didn't quite care. "I know people who can, for one small favor." She smiled in the shadow of her hood, a venomous smile that did more to explain the nature of her proposition than she ever would.

John sighed and set down his scissors for a moment, looking a little bewildered with the stranger. "This man could die, if you can help us, why not do it now and I'll do twice what you're asking?" The woman took no notice and instead directed her attentions towards Crom and Griff. "This is my caravan, as it turns out, and I am selling its cargo to certain friends of mine who took it upon themselves to come all the way out here from their homes... in the west." She waved her hand, dismissing an afterthought of hers. "To put things simply; you're clearly a soldier of some sort, ready to go with stitch-work," she nodded at Crom before turning to Griff, "And you look rakish enough to be in my employ, though I'll admit I'm not the best judge of character. But you're armed and that's enough for me." The mountain pass hadn't taken long for the caravan to reach and traverse, and now the town of Loenn sat laid out below them at the foot of the mountain. "Loenn isn't a place I usually do business, and I don't have many friends there. I want you all to be my friends for a day. In return I feed you, have this man attended by an expert right now, and you may all walk free." It was a gamble picking up a wounded man, but there hadn't been anyone else on the road. If anything it was extra leverage, however little it was. Regardless, she spoke diplomatically and as evenly as ever; another sale to be made before the one that mattered.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

The sergeant stammered for a moment, unable to find words. He silenced himself and regained his composure, standing crisply with his hands at his sides. There was nothing he could say. "Stay safe," he said to Adrian, and turned away from the duo. They hadn't lost people around the town, not yet. He didn't want to be the watchman to turn up the first corpse though. It was out of his hands: he wasn't going to resort to fisticuffs with someone he was sworn to protect. His patrol looked at him kind of funny for his demeanor, most armed guardsmen so far north were quick to employ the backs of their hands. The leaves whispered again, like clattery laughter along the forest floor. "You heard the man, to the road and let's get some words," he snapped the command and lead his squadron away, Lusevet pressing bootprints into the snow. The offhanded way he'd mentioned it made it more believable; if there was someone bleeding out in the woods they would be remiss if they didn't go out to find him. He told himself that on their return pass he would check again for the strange duo, though if it took them that long to get into town they were walking in circles or stopped.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

The sergeant stopped as he realized he wasn't being followed and looked back at the Soah and Adrian. What were they, a bunch of mad northerners just trying to stir up trouble? He couldn't just let them go, he had a job to do. One of his men spat on the ground and looked over to his leader, "Eh just leave 'em be.They'll take care of it too, gives the dogs something to play with." That wasn't an opinion he was looking to hear, and he surged forward past his men to follow Adrian and Soah distantly. He shook his head, wondering just what the act was, because he sure wasn't following it. The wind picked up, and the leaves along the forest floor skittered along in a way that seemed to impart an impatience in the man. "Has our hospitality offended you? I am doing my duty and offering you escort, for your own damn good." The spitting soldier back in the group ranted on to his comrades, cutting into his sergeant's speech. "Who comes out here looking for a 'sack of mead' anyway? And expects us to buy that? Burn the lot of 'em." The sergeant pursed his lips, this wasn't anybody's problem and he in truth felt he was failing the two men walking away. "You want to die out here?" He asked, exasperated, several moments of banter away from slapping a guardsman behind him, and finally starting to lose his cool temperament.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

"Of course, sir," The guard said warmly and smiled slightly at Adrian. One part admiration for a young man out to prove himself and one part condescension instilled from years of watching the same types go by. His face stiffened when he turned back to Soah, a well practiced mask hiding a growing impatience with the rude man. As he had said, things had changed, and contrary to what that statement had implied they had changed in the favor of the recalcitrant traveler before him. This was exactly the kind of hot head he was supposed to get out of the countryside. "As you like, I must still see you in," he said curtly, sparing the man the details. He looked off into the woods, left and right for just a moment, and then turned on a heel to lead off towards the town down a trail the rangers liked to use, motioning for Adrian and Soah to follow him. To the rest of his group hung back a while, waiting to serve as a rear guard on the way back to Loenn. It wasn't much of a change in procedure for them, at least, the same is taking the occasional drunk back into town.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

The man looked at Soah with an almost concerned look, stuck between discerning what kind of fight the man meant and how that lead to him losing his clothes. He shook his head and stopped himself. The sergeant nodded to a man at the back of the group. "Lusevet, garb this man," he said. The younger man obliged and stepped forward. The circumstances were certainly different but it was a guardsman's custom to see travelers through, especially when they turned up in the woods without obvious provisions. Russel Lusevet stripped the snow shoes and the fur spats that went with them from his boots and held them out to the shoeless man. Satisfied at their meager contribution to the common good, the sergeant looked down the line to Adrian. Soah had glanced at him, and while he would rather have concluded his business with the group by leading them into town, there seemed to be something afoot here. "What about you lad? Doing alright?" He cleared his throat, and decided to issue the formalities as well as his question. "If you would, and I assume you were going there anyway, we're supposed to see wanderers and the like into town. Things have been... different recently." He was uncomfortable with admitting the outbreak of banditry in the realm, but politics were also complicating his job.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

As Adrian and Soah struck out across the mountain range and began their descent of the mountain, the tranquil village of Loenn came into view at the foot of the mountains. At first, only by the light gray smoke of the many fires lighting the wooden houses, and then by the pointed tops of the handful of watchtowers standing sentinel by the roads into town. Unlike Aldrun it had no palisade, and sprawled considerably more in the extra space. The pristine centerpiece of the town was a log fort, the only building that existed here hundreds of years ago before some people had the bright idea to settle around it. Within the fort walls the flag of Loenn, a boar's head on green field, flew. Flew above the Arcarti army bicolor, light blue over white. It did not boast the obvious merchant district of a port town like Aldrun, but a colorful cadre of tents and canvas around an open square within the town signaled the presence of shops and peddlers from afar. The whole town sat far away down the mountain, with stands of trees and a slow return to grassy fields from the mountain snow separating the two from the town.

As the pair marched their way through the trees, a faint rustling became apparent around them. The woods were sparse, and soon they could see a group of five men approaching them through the woods. Apparently their own rustling had been heard. Three of them carried bows slung over their shoulder, and none of them seemed all that alarmed or concerned as they approached. They were dressed what some would call shabbily, in thick leathers and furs to keep the winter out but they could all be identified by the green armband they bore. The same green and boar of Loenn. The lead man waved and hailed, "The hell happened to you two?" They seemed okay, but in a guard's mind he had immediately begun to suspect some sort of crime for their predicament. Most people didn't freely walk about in the snow sans shoes and pants.