Chapter 16 - A long respite concluded

Each member of the team went to step off the raft in turn. Troit was first to place his foot on solid land, and as the dockhands were unloading goods as passengers disembarked, the immediate weight shift caused by the burly strongman and multiple pallets of weighty items making landfall, led the feeble vessel to lurch towards Lichter’s giant frame at the rear of the pack. Everyone stumbled and swore as the giant crocodile man laughed heartily before he slid off into the water. Instantly correcting the boats balance and causing the rest of the people and some of the cargo to fling back and into Troit’s wide embrace.

“Oh gods, right after you oiled up and everything, that is a lot of greasy chest to peel myself off of this early in the morning.” Ross said, leaving a face imprint in the freshly applied coating on Troit’s muscly frame.

Felicity popped her joints, a lazy stretch amidst the bustle and toil of the harbour side, where sweating workers hefted cargo off and steered the many rafts in and out of the quay with bargepoles and profanities.

“That felt like a lot longer than a day on the water getting here.”

“You’re telling me!” Yerin Said, replicating the former farmers exaggerated stretch “I know I had a nap at one point but you could easily tell me that journey took years.”

Wiesse nodded, re-donning his still wine-stained coat despite the heat - have to look the part after all - “Oh definitely years. Five years I’d say. Like, if you woke me up right now and told me I’d been sleeping for five years my body would agree with you.”

“Not quite five, but close, like four and ten months, close enough that I would believe you if you said five but I would be sceptical.” Ross joked with his former acting colleague.

Suddenly a gruff voice from one of the agitated workers around them sounded out, the beefy man was by no means small but still couldn’t be seen behind Troit’s large barbarian frame. “Excuse me lads.” He acknowledged Felicity in the midst, “and ladette.” Incorrectly. “But you have taken up a fair bit of time on the fourth wall here.”

Puzzled expressions were had all around before he pointed at the pre-built wooden palisade wall that Ross had been sitting on, one of the many pieces of cargo removed from the conveyor belt of boats.

“Got the other three over there already, just need to move the fourth and I can go on break so if you wouldn’t mind moving. Also, I believe that is yours.” He pointed at Lichter who was shaking the rivers water off like a dog and soaking some well-dressed travellers trying to walk past him.

“Oh, yes, yes, it is.” Wiesse said and the team collected the other member of their crew and left the workers to their business.

-

It took a markedly long time (not quite five years, or even four and ten months) for the acting pair to navigate everyone out of the din and bustle of the wharf area.

Even though this town was significantly smaller than Jandrir, where they had come from, it was clear that as such that it didn’t really intend to look after and welcome visitors. This was a working town, processing the many supplies and wares that Jandrir deigned to send down river then distribute them to their appropriate, further away, destinations.

It had homes for the workers and few market stalls. What it did have was for groceries or homeware, run by the less burly spouses and young of the families who did work on the dock. But their selection of stock was sparse and despite Troit trying to buy some additional herbs, they learnt that most of what they did have was reserved for the local residents, only really offering the odd travelling essential for those who got off the rafts and those were at a substantial mark up.

“So, remind me what we’re doing in this lacklustre neck of the woods again please?” Felicity asked, using her newly decorated pitchfork to prop herself up and lean against casually.

“These two muppets- “

“Actors!” Ross interrupted

“…Muppets.” Yerin continued unabated, “believe that there is a town nearby that they can hide out in for a while.”

“It’s a former mining village, the hills surrounding it have been hollowed out by a network of tunnels that have been mapped out. The residents move into them during the colder months. Squiz wrote about it in the adventurer’s guide, apparently it’s quite the sight to behold and it is isolated enough that we can hide out. A lot of the tunnels don’t get used so we can camp out in one for as long as we need.” Ross said, looking up from the very adventurers guide he referenced whilst Wiesse pondered a map.

“Right. But why is it you need to hide out again?”

“Oh… well…”

“They stole a shit tonne of silver coins from their former employer when they started their little adventuring party.” Yerin chimed in, Troit gave one of his celebratory cheers when the quantity of silver coins was mentioned, clearly oblivious to the rest of the conversation.

Felicity looked dumbfounded, “You know of this big guy?” she asked Lichter.

“I helped them steal it to be fair.”

“Great. I thought I was off into the wild world with a host of adventurers but instead I’m traipsing around with thieves!”

“We aren’t proud of it ok, but we know there is a bounty out on our heads so we’re going to hang low for a full turn of the clock, let the listing expire and then we should be safe and sound. Besides, for all we know it’s only been posted in the Kaden Circle and the outlying areas. Placing a Bounty in every guild hall across the land would cost too much. Our former employer was a tight git, hence the coffer full of silver coins, Gods know he wasn’t paying us with all that so I doubt he would spend that much for revenge.” Wiesse defended the actions of he and his long-term colleague, though Felicities expression showed a clear distaste for the newfound knowledge.

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“Why don’t I just turn you all in for the reward myself?” she asked, though her tone and a half chuckle made it clear she had no intention of actually doing as such.

The awkward laughter and playful jibes that resulted were swiftly silenced when Lichter put a hand on Felicity’s shoulder, “You might just have that option now.” He said and the collective attention was drawn towards a group of mismatched individuals, armed and marching with purpose directly towards their rag-tag squad.

At their head, with the least aggressive gait was a large man clearly a deckhand that had been pulled away from his duties, sweat still shining on taut heavily tanned skin, beneath thick curly black hairs. A blue cotton strip rolled and knotted to look like a rope tied around his head to keep the untamed mop of river-wind battered hair from his eyes and a matching rope-tie around the waist simultaneously holding up his torn orange shorts and keeping his loose-fitting vest around his trunk. His face was one of frustration as he pointed a dirty, stubby finger at Lichter and barked out if he was free to leave, a violently spoken statement that conflicted with the notion that he was unable to previously if he had simply chosen too. But then again, stoic frustration aside, he did not have a weapon.

The cadre of colourful assailants who he had steered here very much were armed, and each drew a series of exotic and unusual weapons from their belts as they directed their attentions towards the nine-foot Kkyrunnig. At the head of the pack was a towering man, exposed forearms and midriff showing a strong muscular frame and smooth dark brown skin, his garb was a soft tan cotton, tightly bound wraps around his chest and shoulders contrasting with a loose fitting headwrap and scarf that concealed most of his face and flowed down to curtain his puffy trousers and bare feet. The sword he wielded had a chain of rings protruding from the hooked hilt and the curve of the blade was on the sharpened edge, a falcata, a soldiers weapon.

He solidified his position as the hastily approaching squadrons leader when he instructed his men into a surrounding formation. A short lanky Roskin, animal folk from the north, moved quickly behind Lichter, holding in his hairy elongated limbs a large net. Wide spacing on the crosshatch and thick heavy cord made it clear this was a net for combat and capturing and no practical hunting or trapping purpose. The monkey man howled a series of loud quick barks and jittered back and forth from Lichter, seemingly emboldened by its own vocalisations then leaping back to a safe distance in a jerking continual pattern. Despite its constant exaggerated motions the Roskin wore multiple plates of heavy armour, close fit to its thin frame and lacquered in a rich purple colour with swirling patterns, gems and colourful adornments decorating it.

Two women, pasty skin, short and striking purple eyes clearly marking them as Impere from the Anidan Mountains stood either side of their leader, each wielding a Dragontongue sword in the opposing hand so that each of his flanks was safe, the weapons a short sword that ran from the base to expand into a diamond shape half way up the blade, a split in the blade in a V shape from tip to the central point with both edges sharpened. A dualists sword, used to trap the opponent’s weapon in the slit and with a simple twist easily disarm them. They each wore black stained studded leather armour, their matching red hair braided into a waist long ponytail and as though choreographed falling on the corresponding side of their body to the positions they took aside their captain. Other members of their menacing squad fanned out taking points at a distance or cutting of any escape routes if we were to try and run. A huffing man, struggling beneath the weight of his armour which was fashioned like a large bell made of articulated sectional panels with a domed helmet, face hidden behind tiny pinprick holes he used for vision and air raised his weapons, two bladed gauntlets, at Troit.

“Over to the wall!” he said, voice tinny from inside his unusual attire.

The situation they found themselves in was one of great concern. Troit oblivious to danger as always complied to the command with a jaunty step and a smile, Felicity was cautiously gripping her pitchfork as she closed in back toward the house they were stood. Yerin watched everyone cautiously but slunk away behind his long-time friend and bodyguard Troit. When Lichter went to move the yapping Monkey man skittered in front and howled, stopping him in his tracks.

Ross and Wiesse who had both been leaning on the wall consulting the map shared a knowing glance. This was a situation that would take poise, charm, wit and caution to escape safely. They would have to employ all of their acting skills into addressing their assailants and retain an air of calm and cool. Never show them your weakness Ross thought as he stood to his full height, back straight and addressed the leader. This was his moment to shine.

“How do you do?” he asked, voice simultaneously cracking and squeaking as he struggled to get the words out and ended up choking and coughing on his spit before the final word made it out.

“Great stuff buddy, you’ve got this.” Wiesse said under his breath, shaking his head as the Falcata wielding leader stepped forward and took command of the situation.

He spoke out a series of words that the acting duo’s team could not understand, they were guttural, sharp sounding sentences. When he concluded a weaselly man scuttled forward to translate, his voice high pitched despite recounting the heavy bassy words of his leader.

“We have come for what is ours. We have purchased the Large Crocodile one for our Master. We shall take him and you will not stop us. We have no intention of harming you, our master has forbidden it. He is kind and our coin should be honoured.” The way the translator read out the instruction was precise as though reading each sentence off a scroll, a moments pause after each stop. The language he was interpreting was a concise one, using short instructional phrases, none of the rhetoric and clutter that Ross and Wiesse were used too.

“What does he mean purchased?” Yerin inquired, more so to the members of his own team.

“Oh!” Wiesse began, “you know I recognise him now. In Jandrir he came up and slipped me a coin… I honestly did not know what he was saying. But, gold piece, what am I going to do not take that?!”

“You tit Wiesse, I said don’t trust anything or anyone in Jandrir!”

Wiesse threw his hands up defensively, “Hey, how was I supposed to know. Do you know how rare it is to meet someone not connected to the Aether, isn’t the Crucible of Knowledge meant to make it so we all understand each other!”

Ross chimed in, voice matching the yelling pitch of his two comrades but with the impartial tone of someone bringing light to the situation, “Actually I think this chap is Dborin, the desert folk from the east. Their culture actively encourages and dissuades the Aether and a lot of their clansmen have learned how to dissociate from it entirely.”

Wiesse looked at his friend with fury and confusion, “Then why the fuck did he think I would know what he meant!”

“Guys”

“Maybe he mistook you for Dborin?” Ross said unhelpful

“Or that was the whole point of their plan to confuse you, like I said, don’t trust anyone!”

“Guys!” Felicity chimed in again, and when she had their attention she thumbed over to where Troit had been standing with his hand in the air, awaiting patiently his turn to speak.

“Go on pal, what you got to say.” Yerin said with a sigh.

“Whilst I would ask you all, good friends not to argue so. You are all missing one of the key things that he said.” Troit hefted his heavy table leg, turned club up and slapped it heavily into his open palm. “He said their master has forbidden them from hurting us.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Ross added.

“I’m starting to think Troit is the smartest one of the lot of you…” Felicity said and rounded her pitchfork over in a graceful arch to face the Dborin.