POOHEAD189

Ill Met in Ostland

Marius took a moment to think, looking at the elm tabletop contemplatively. The last thing he wanted was for his father to receive a big payoff. He still held resentment burning in his breast and he wasn't going to let that go so easily. It would be the greatest irony to make it to Wolfenburg and then throw his father a fortune as a thank-you for banishment. But a part of him did want his father to also know he could be a boon for the company. Maybe this was a way he could prove himself?

He knew he would change his mind. But he felt in that moment that it was the right thing to do, at least for his own future.

"If you buy it from the Golden Kettle company, you'll tell them it was a purchase made courtesy of Marius the Merchant." He said, and Frederich gazed at him with a queer, curious look.

"Marius the Merchant, very well." He said, placing his hands together, the rings on his finger clinking from the gesture. "Please, check on my powder and report back here..."

"I also wish to be paid the same as your agents when going out to the Silo, both full payment for myself and the fraulien." Marius demanded, crossing his arms. He felt Frederick Grunwald might refuse, might point out if they did not, they wouldn't be able to get the powder anyway. But wisely the Wolfenburg merchant prince thought better of it, and acquiesced with a nod of his head.

"It will be done."

"Good, then we'll leave immediately." Marius said, taking up a small walking staff he had purchased that morning. He had his sword for dangerous encounters, but a staff was the usual mode of self-defense for a traveling tradesman and he wanted to at least look the part, even if he couldn't wield it worth a damn unless he needed a club. Marius glanced at Natasha, who pursed her lips and nodded her agreement. "Have the powder ready. We'll be back in a few days."

The two stepped out of Grunwald and Sons, and it was when the midday sun hit him that he realized he had just volunteered to go out into the wilderness and risk his neck for a woman he had just met. Yes, she had saved his life, but damn he wasn't here to start a charity! Sigmar guide me, Marius thought. Perhaps this was still the right thing to do. He wasn't beholden to her but this would at least give him a name to some extent, and she did have an important job to do he would be remiss if he did not see through. He had promised, after all.

"Into danger then?" He asked her rhetorically. "We'll need some supplies..."

At The Edge of The World

I grinned. Admittedly I was a bit nervous, but she didn't seem put-off by my question and even encouraged the conversation. Her pedigree notwithstanding, it all seemed pretty natural. I slid a bit closer, my dark eyes locked on her blue-eyed gaze as she awaited my answer. Gods, she was pretty.

I shrugged my big shoulders. "I do know this one guy. He's alright." I said, wiggling my big hand as if it were a scale, speaking like the person in question had just reached the bare minimum requirement of being acceptable to know. I smiled back at her wickedly. "I think you'll find him to be a...good 'social acquaintance.' Girl's like that kind of thing, right?"

"It's tolerable," she said facetiously, wrinkling her diminutive nose as she continued the joke, and like magnets we leaned in for a kiss. I could almost feel it before we brushed li-

"Room?"

Emmaline's eyes popped open and I wheeled my head around to see one of the Maw's overworked attendees standing there, pen and paper in her hand and bags under her eyes. She sported a brown hair bun to keep any hair out of the well-cooked food. I had never seen her before, but then again they switched out employees almost as often as customers. "Were you two wanting a room with the order? One bedroom, two bedroom? If you're done eating we need to clear the tables unless you're going to order something."

"Well...?" I started to answer, but really felt it wasn't my place. I looked at Emmaline questioningly.

Ill Met in Ostland

"That sounds a bit overzealous," Marius chuckled, though his face showed no mirth. Meeting Frederich Grunwald would have normally been an honor if he did not see the man was trying to swindle Natasha. Without preamble, Marius held his hand out to see the papers Frederich had in flowing script that indicated the formulae of the prices. Ars Dictaminis was a learned art that few could really become literate in. A full five years of schooling was served to learn how to doublespeak and converse in what they called the tradesman's tongue.

"I assure you it is all in order, herr...?" Frederich was the second son out of the three, master of the Wolfenburg branch, and he looked the part. His coat ended just above his knees in the merchant fashion, but it was purple and gold to display his station. He sported a much fuller beard than Marius's goatee and it likely hid varying levels of multiple chins. Even with a bulk order such as this, Marius was surprised he showed up so readily. The clerk had likely informed him of the accent and the sexist fact Natasha was a woman and thought it was an easy mark they could make good on if the master himself addressed her. There was a reason Marius had not spoken until he had laid out that every barrel of gunpowder was twice the going rate at the Nuln university.

"The assets here do not include the correct amount of saltpeter for the cannons, and we will only pay these rates for the first four barrels. After that we expect the price to lower by two hundred and thirty seven Krowns for every shipment after that. In these documents you have failed to tell us what ships would be utilized to transport it and by what metric we are insured."

"That is ludicrous! It is the standard rate of saltpeter for the imperial military regulation forms out of altdorf, and-"

"Altdorf does not know blackpowder from cigar smoke." Marius laughed, slamming the letter down and pointing at the sheet with an accusatory manner, poking it as he spoke. "Heinrich Falkhammer of Nuln has the Gunnery School's blackpowder mixture statement of military excellence at 75/100 and it used throughout the Empire as the standard for every major contingent of gun batteries since they were implemented in 2469 during the year of the Red Sky. We wouldn't want to give subpar powder and shot to our dear allies up north, do we herr Grunwald? I'm surprised your prices are so high with such little oversight on the quality of your merchandise." By Sigmar, at least when the letters of business were written by the clergy they were more often than not honest! Marius sighed.

"We follow the standards writ on the reik marque dictandi and have yet to be questioned in any such manner by any official of customs. And you must not know that black powder is in high demand currently and our stocks are low during the winter seasons. Perhaps if you and the fraulien here waited another season you would be granted better terms."

"Who would have such a high need of gunpowder more than the Kislevites who guard the Troll country from the ruinous powers and barbarians of the north?" The Nuln merchant scoffed. The Empire was ever at war, it was true, but from all the gossip Marius had heard there were very few conflicts that would warrant a nation-wide need of gunpowder save for greedy purchasing by a rebel group attempting a bloody coup. "Do not patronize my friend here. If you cannot give us a fair deal we can go to Middenheim or perhaps see if the Golden Kettle outpost in Talabhiem would be more accommadating."

"Wait wait...!" Frederich said, holding his fat hands out. He was around Marius's age but he seemed to have had more than a touch of good living. One of the benefits of being an unfavorite without a home was that Marius did not have enough time to devour so many delectable pastries. The rival merchant dismissed his clerk with a wave, the man leaving the spectacles and disappearing into the back. He sighed.

"The reason we do not have what we need in stock is that one of our silos was waylaid." He admitted softly, eyes darting back and forth. "We don't know if it was beastman or greenskins or bloody bandits, but something has taken half my stock and everyone I have sent out there has not returned."

Marius raised a questioning eyebrow to Natasha.

At The Edge of The World

I had started to eat the pulled pork I had ordered, finally filling my belly. Gods it was good. Mudcreek was a backwater nowhere but it had the picking of all the good food transported to and from the elven nations and the confederation along the coast to the south. Emmaline had ordered a plate of loaded potato skins with added pork from my recommendation. At her suggestion I almost had the food go down the wrong throat, and I felt like a boy because I felt myself flush.

"Yeah, I'd love to!" I said shamelessly, then pulled back. Could I? I did have a residence and a small business as a smith, but my clients weren't expecting me back for a long time and I didn't need to pay anything off. And truth be told, I was finally admitting I had a severe crush on this girl. I knew I would go with her just because it would eat at me if I didn't, but I also did not realize I would say it so quickly.

Truth be told, I always did want to just go. But I always felt guilty. My parents lived two weeks away from my place and loathed the idea of me risking my neck everyday. Yes, I was a grown man and lived alone, but I did feel bad about making them worry so I took up a job as a smith and just moonlighted as a river guide. It wasn't the safest side-job, but they didn't usually end up as disastrous as this one had.

"I would love to come with you," I told her more calmly. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but I did not know what else to say. "Uh... hey uh, you don't have a boyfriend do you?"

I was the smoothest fucker alive.

Ill Met in Ostland

"Who told you to buy from Grunwald and Sons?" Marius asked, stroking his fine chin.

"No vaun? De sell gahnpiwder, da?" She asked as if it were that simple. To the common man it often was, or the foreigner. She had saved Marius's life, the least he could do would be to give her some advice.

"Yes, but Grunwald has recently passed away. His sons control the business now and there are rumors that they're very cutthroat in their business. They lack the honor of their late sire and might not get the best price for you. You don't want to pay top dollar for subpar gunpowder. You would be better off with longbows and trebuchets like the frogs."

"Vrogs?" She inquired, hiccuping from drinking too much vodka too swiftly. She held it better than Marius at least. He had yet to finish his first cup and she was on her second. He drained it hurriedly before he answered, and felt like he had been shot for the trouble. Still, as the seconds passed he felt quite good.

"Brettonians." Marius explained. He poured himself the second glass and blinked, trying to regain his sensibilities. An idea suddenly popped into his head, perhaps influenced by the drink but a solid thought none the less. He did need an 'in' in the business world of Ostland. Maybe having an association with this barbarian death-maiden and speaking to an agent from Grunwald and gaining a relationship there would be fortuitous to gain. "If you would like, I could come with you and help inspect the stock."

"I can guarantee I could sort through the bullshit for you," Marius boasted, finding his tongue was getting looser by the second. "Plus a lot people here would take advantage of an attractive foreigner. You could kill someone but that won't help you get gunpowder..."

Marius hiccuped himself, patting his chest with his fist. He was quickly forgetting what he was saying, but the drink was good and the company was different so he wasn't going to complain. "You are quite good with that spear and blade and...all of it. You know I'm a duelist myself." He said, half forgetting he wasn't nearly as good as most of his peers. "My trainer was a bravo from Tilea, famous for erm... swords."

At The Edge of The World

A serpent man hacked at me to my left, but I caught it on the sturdy wood of the odari staff. I hooked the haft under and around the halberd and shoved it wide, spinning with the movement and snapping my foot out. The creature went flying onto the floor. During my spin I saw a glimpse of the last approaching conquistador. He watched me with hate filled eyes, lurking closer with his hand out and sword leveled like he was a back-alley cutthroat. I pivoted, my footwork a blur as I snapped my staff in time to meet both his sword and the scimitar of a serpent-man who had thought to get a quick kill. Spinning my staff, I shoved aside both weapons and elbowed the merc in the face, sending blood and splittle flying out as I turned my full attention on the unnatural denizen of Tzecholitchi. In three strokes I got the better of him, striking it atop its serpentine head, its yellowed eyes going blank as it fell over, dazed.

"Beren get the symbol!" I heard to my right and turned. Somehow, Emmaline was pulling herself up across the other side of the abyss as a serpent-man's body disappeared into the endless stygian gloom. My jaw dropped, having just a minute ago seeing her block a bullet to now turning the tables on an impossible situation. I had just beaten three opponents in a handful of seconds and somehow she one upped me. Who the hell was this woman!? She could...do anything!

Her cry finally registered in my mind, and my eyes flitted to the dazed mercenary who now stood precariously above the pit and still back up none the wiser! My heart leaped into my throat, and dropping my staff I made a desperate leap for the precipice of the pit as the conquistador stepped on nothing but air, his predicament finally registering in his eyes as he did so. A scream emanated from his lips, and my boots skidded across the stone floor as my hand shot out to grab the symbol in his hands, halting his descent. I weighed more than him likely, but he was armored and my momentum worked against me.

"I deserve all the gold! All the glory!" He cried, an insane laughing bubbling up from deep inside as he clung to the symbol desperately. Half crazed from delirium or maybe from my elbow strike, I couldn't tell. I tried to yank the symbol away but his weight continued to drag me forward toward the edge. I switched my stance desperately, leaning back. "I can't die! I found the city of forbidden treasures! The gold is mine!"

"You want gold?" I told him, and made a desperate move. Instead of pulling back, I jumped. My weight was shoved forward, but I was in the perfect position for a drop kick. My booted feet hit him across his breastplate with the force of a knight's lance, and he screeched as he lost his hold on the eldtritch symbol, flying across the expanse to hit the wall Emmaline had just clambered over before sliding into the abyss, his screams echoing in the void of nothingness. I landed at the very edge, my breath caught in my throat and the symbol in my hands, teetering for a brief moment of horror before I could back pedal. I sighed in relief as I stepped away from the edge, and took a gold coin from my purse to blithely toss into the cavernous hole after him. "Have a refund. Hope you visit us again."

The serpent men, who had regained their composure, halted their advance and actually bowed before us, genuflecting and throwing their arms on the ground. It seemed I only needed to use my will? Emmaline approached from the otherside, giving a smile as she rubbed a bruise on her arm.

"Good line, but don't make it a habit of wasting gold." She said.

"I think there's some more where that came from." I said, and we both approached Fletcher and Callibel to help them up. Luckily the woman was a healer, and it looked like my contract was just about over...

Two days later...

The outpost near the river was small. A dozen huts of timber and a jetty where rafts and smaller craft lazily bobbed in the river. Sweat-laden locals and huntsmen gathered to trade and pass gossip and news as travelers and gold-hunters coalesced in the infamous inn known as 'The Maw,' its namesake a large, reptilian skull opened wide above the awning that covered the porch from the elements. A smattering of locals with raised voices swapped money and bet as they gathered around a small pit where a southland smooth-fured aquatic bear fought and began to devour a sort of man-lobster that clicked in panic as it lost its left pincer.

I had been here before, but not for months. There were always new faces, hardened mercs and grim-faced trappers turning to regard Emmaline and I as we stepped into the insulated common room. Callibel and Fletcher had thanked me profusely once we arrived, but they had business of their own to take care of and they disappeared into the crowd as I led Emmaline for one last meal, one we didn't have to prepare for our own for once. We found a nice corner in at the back where there were cushioned chairs, and my ass felt better for it for the extra copper it cost.

We had managed to procure a few gold relics that I could sell with passing traders if I ever came back here before the monsoon season. Emmaline had found a serpent armlet with ruby eyes that glittered whenever her slim arm moved, as well as a fistful of gold chunks and coins she eyed greedily. Now that we could sit down and actually think about it, we came out of the insanity more fortunate than we had come in, and I had not expected that once the raft had been destroyed.

"So, what are your plans for now?" I asked her as I downed my drink. I remembered the sexy conversation we were supposed to have, but here in a modicum of civilization I felt more than ever the fleetingness of our acquaintance and the fact she was ridiculously high birth. "On your way to the Enclave?"

The Enclave was the famous 'old town' high class grouping of exiled nobles in the great city of Darkwater. They flocked there and joined together to rule the city as their fathers and northern peers had not allowed them to up north. The barons and petty counts were not expressively oppressive, but they did spend the cities gold on parties and trading interests and building projects while the gangs could hold sway over the lower portions of the poorer sections of the city.

At The Edge of The World

I nodded with camraderie, not comprehending she was looking for a way out for herself.

Somehow the Dre Costans had an idea of what was going on here. I vaguely wondered how they would have gotten here if the raft had not been destroyed, and it occured to me that if they were so far in such ruinous lore in this gods-forbidden city that they likely weren't above summoning or somehow causing the murk-beast to wade so far up river to attack us. The fact that it had devoured one of their comrades was just another eerie realization that they would kill anyone that got in their way, like what we saw before us. Of course this was all speculation, but it drove a hot fury within me regardless.

"I know you were wanting me to have a plan, but I don't see much of a way to disrupt whatever's going on than a rush." I admitted with trepidation. Attacking the ferocious serpent-men would likely do nothing but break whatever ward kept them back, and doing nothing would result in those bastards getting what they were aiming for, which was something he couldn't guess. Plus if they were to drop something heavy on the location of the mercenaries, it would kill Fletcher and Callibel.

My eyes darted across the vast chamber, hoping an idea would pop up. I was usually a quick thinker, but this seemed so simple it was unfortunately something we couldn't destroy through cleverness. That is, until I noticed the symbol the mercenary held aloft. It looked much like the symbols scrawled across the walls, just above the waiting legions of the serpent men. An idea popped in my head, and I pointed at one of the wards, leaning down to whisper in Emmaline's ear.

"Can you fire another bolt of lightning?" I asked.

"Maybe... why?"

"Hit one of the symbols on the lined along the wall, where the brass meets the stone. Trust me."

"You're one of the most trustworthy people I know," She said, and though it sounded sardonic it brought a smile to my face. She uttered a word of power and wiggled her fingers as if she was a seamstress, and sparks filled the air moments before a bolt of lightning materialized from her hands. It didn't zip through the air like one would suspect. It popped up like true lightning, both where Emmaline was an at the spot she aimed at simultaneously. There was a crack as stone sundered, sending a broken seam slicing up the wall to bisect the ward.

The mercenaries stopped, stunned as they turned to see one of the dozens of symbols on the wall destroyed. To their horror, four serpent men took up moon-bladed swords and heavy scimitars and stepped languidly through the two pillars that framed where they stood. I smiled as I saw my plan had worked. The army couldn't pour through, but there was a handful of the beasts that could defend what they considered their religious sanctuary.

"What now?" Emmaline began to ask, but I interrupted it and let out a battle cry with my axe held aloft, and I charged forward as the two mercenaries shoved their bound hostages aside and looked to defend themselves from the serpent-men that advanced on their position. One of them lowered his arquebas and fired, killing one of the guardians outright, but he immediately had to drop his weapon and draw his sidesword as they furiously began to defend themselves. Emmaline following me, we waded into the melee that would decide our fate.

Ill Met in Ostland

"Vodka," Natasha ordered. She was a slender woman, but every movement she made had a confidence behind it that had men treating her like she was thrice her mass in pure muscle. Marius had never seen someone like her, particularly a noblewoman. All of the nobles he knew were posh and stuck up or damsels to be saved.

"Vodka's expensive." The innkeeper Jurgen said, crossing his meaty arms.

"Vodka, for the both of us." Marius insisted, holding out the krowns he had taken from the bandits. Jurgen had been standoffish at first, as it had taken them a good ten minutes to get her proud horse into the stable with the other mares, and not only just because of the accent. Luckily the glint of gold changed his stance. It was communication that passed all barriers of both nation and faith. The Last Stop wasn't extravagant, but it was warm and had drink. The oil lamps and torches blazed brightly and the two intrepid meeters by fate's hand had found a comfortable spot in the back to talk.

"So, zis Golden Kettle. Tell me oof it." She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Now that Marius was out of harms way, he noticed how pretty she was. Her face was well formed, her hair was as black as midnight and her body had some curves to accompany that muscle. Even the birthmar-... no wait.

"Uh, you have something..." Marius started, pointing at his cheek. She cocked her head to the side, and wiped her hand across her cheek. It was a bead of blood from the slaughter. To his utter surprise she licked her finger and then brushed away the rest of it.

"Tank you." She said.

"No problem. Uh, yes, the business. My father owns one of the biggest shipping companies in the empire. We load goods and had outposts all across the reik and the river talabec. In fact, Wolfenburg is one of the three major cities in the empire that doesn't have one. The others being Middenheim and and Salzenmund in Nordland."

"Boot kettle...?"

"We started as a shipping company for tea, but it quickly blew up. Now we're known across the land. My father has even shaken the hands of Karl Franz, if you could believe that."

"Szo, you are heer to make new outpost?"

That had Marius hesitating, and he sighed. "No. My father is a great businessman, but he's also an asshole. He banished me, and I came up here to start my own business to prove I can do what he does without any handouts." The suave man was usually less forthcoming, but he felt the woman would understand being blunt to a fault, and he liked to imagine he saw approval in the manner in her eyes. Marius smiled, and just then Jurgen placed down two mugs of vodka and a bottle with more. "So... why is a boyarina coming south to the lands of the empire? If you're looking for mercenary work, that was a good audition. I'd vouche for you."

Marius took a long drink of Vodka, and it stung his senses something fierce. Still, he wanted to celebrate and what better way than to drink an entire bottle of vodka with a woman from troll country?

At The Edge of The World

And she could do magic too!?

"I tend to improvise, but I'll try to match that." I said. I saw Emmaline was out of breath, and I opened my hands and gestured. "May I?"

She nodded with a grin, despite her weariness. I picked her up and laid her over my shoulder, and then started to run. I couldn't match a raptor, but I made good time across the open ground. My feet clapped on the flagstones as we passed by canals and darkwood trees and pillars framing some cosmic city-way. The sun was still in the sky, but I knew it would set within the hour. Even if we made it in time to...whatever was happening, we couldn't leave the city tonight other than by some eldritch means.

The opening in the ziggurat was an intricate knot of all right angles and geometric shapes I couldn't begin to comprehend, and once inside we could either go left or right. I went left on a whim and entered a small hallway that seemed triangular in shape, confining to my sensibilities but somehow we fit. Light filtered in from small holes above, but I couldn't see their origin. It was likely some sort of light bounced off mirrors that helped illuminate the enclosed halls. Or perhaps it was simply magic.

Either way, we passed through one corridor into the next, before I ran across a walkway of stone above a streaming torrent of water that rushed beneath us. Emmaline later told me she saw some vast, serpent-like shape of darkness just under the moving man-made river, but I hadn't bothered to look down too closely. My eyes were too focused on a man-serpent who stood at the doorway that blocked our path. It's look made my skin crawl, and I shuddered as I barreled towards it. It's body was a well proportioned man decked in a skirt of cloth like the ancient Xerubians, but its neck swelled into the shape of a viperish cobra, widening behind its head. It hissed at us and dropped the ornage halberd it carried, instead reaching behind a cleft in the wall and pulling something I couldn't see.

"Beren, run!" Emmaline cried, and I glanced behind us to see the segments at the back of the walkway crumbling into the river, its foundations breaking from weights beneath us.

"Oh fuck! Fuck!" I breathed, heart pumping. I held onto Emmaline tighter, my corded muscles pressing into her soft flesh as my entire body went taut from summoning the last reserves of my strength. I saw the serpent man reach for its halberd again and level it to skewer us, hissing in delight at our predicament. Every footfall I expected to feel nothing but air, and as I heard the last 'pop' of the segment just behind me falling, I sprang like the raptor had the other day. Emmaline screamed, but instead of launching myself at the doorway, I aimed to the left. I knew I wouldn't have made it, and so I leaped to one of the alcoves in the stone beneath it, a few paces above the rushing waves. I fancied I could see a confused look on the serpent man, but of course one couldn't really tell.

I grabbed onto the rounded frames like an ape, thinking on what to do next. But I heard murmuring behind my head, and a zap! Ozone filled the air, my eyes catching the serpent man, still crackling with electricity, falling into the rushing waters below, dead before it sank beneath the river. We both caught our breath for a second, panting as I looked at the walls and found what imperfections I needed to grab to pull us up to the door.

"Hey Emmaline?" I said as I started to climb. She clung to to me.

"Yes?"

"That was the sexiest thing you could have done. We'll talk about it later though." I told her as we ascended slowly, and the next minute I pulled us both up onto the next corridor, collapsing from the weight of both of us tumbling in. We were almost there.

Ill Met in Ostland

Marius was dumbfounded.

Sigmar had actually come to his aid, but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine it would be from some dark haired warrior woman out of the tales. He could smell the blood even above the unwashed, soiled clothing of the dead bandits. It smelled strange, like rust. He saw steam wafting from the wounds, but his eyes did not linger on the bodies. The woman spoke to him and presented his sword before his face. Marius was a smart man, but he felt particularly dumb at this moment. For once he didn't know what to say.

She shook the sword before him, and it spurred him to movement. "Yes, they uh, they smell like shit." It brought a curt nod and a small smile from the woman. He got to his feet and took the sword, a ribaldo his tilean fencing teacher had called it. Too bad the lessons never did stick. Oh, he was a passing swordsman, but anyone with military or real combat experience was a dangerous opponent to him. He tended to like his chances better than a coin flip every time he crossed blades with someone. He grabbed his scabbard and re-strapped it to his belt, before sliding the blade into it again.

"Thank you. I honestly thought I was dead or worse."

"You szought they vould cook or eat you?" She asked with her strange accent again. She was obviously kislevite, and though Marius had never been so far north, he had met one or two of her countrymen before as tradesman on river barges.

"No, but I would be broke. And I would rather be dead than broke." Marius mentioned, taking his coinpurse and tying back onto his belt. At that, he began searching the men with one hand, holding his nose with the other. Sigmar smiled on him again, for he found a few more krowns. As he pocketed the coins, he turned back to regard her. "If I have no money, then I can never go back home or make a living in Wolfenburg. By the way, I did not catch your name fraulien...?"

"Natasha Andropolovskya, daughter of the march warden and boyar Adrov of the troll country." She said proudly, her head rearing up like a stallion. Marius was suitably impressed, and any other circumstance would have irked him because she was one of the few people who had a pedigree higher than his own.

"Marius Schwarz, son of Ludewig Swarchz of Nuln. Of the Gold and Kettle company." He said. "We ship goods reliably and swiftly across the breadth of the Empire." He said with a bow, one hand placed upon his chest. She saluted with her sword in a queer fashion, and he really wondered what had led this valkyrie so far south.

"Did you szay you ver going to Wvulfenburg?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Isz that noot szouth oof here?"

"...yes."

The last thing he expected was for her to offer him a ride, but he accepted wholeheartedly.