by Jamie Davis
“This should suit you, I think,” Colin said. Handing Hal the blade, hilt-first.
Hal took the sword. It was just under four feet in length from blade tip to the pommel. There was room for a hand and a half on the hilt in case he needed extra leverage. Hal held it in one hand and gave a few practice swings feeling a sense of déjà vu. This sword reminded him of the one Steve had tried to sell him back at the flea market.
“How’s that feel?” Colin asked.
“It feels good, well-balanced, like it fits in my hand.”
“Good, that means I picked the right one for you.”
“Yes, I’ll keep this one,” Hal said, smiling.
Proficiency slot selected - Long sword
Assign 1, 2, or 3 slot levels to the weapon.
“Two,” Hal said aloud. He watched as the long sword slot now reflected level two proficiency.
“Excellent,” Colin said. “Now we need to get you a ranged weapon.”
“What about throwing knives? I was pretty good with those.”
“Those are the weapons of a common thief. You need something with punch and a decent range. Come with me.”
Hal followed Colin from the room full of swords and down a hallway with many doors. Each door had a room full of different types of weapons from axes to pole arms. At the end of the hall, Colin stopped at a rack with a selection of crossbows.
He tapped his chin and selected a midsize weapon with a steel cross piece. He picked it up and handed it to Hal.
“This particular one is a nice tradeoff between power, range, and speed of loading. You pump the lever here under the stock to ratchet the string back until it locks, then place the bolt in place for firing.”
Hal took the crossbow from Colin and put it to his shoulder to test its aim and feel. He cocked the lever several times, watching the bowstring pulled backward in the ratcheting mechanism until it clicked in place behind the trigger release.
“Here’s a bolt,” Colin offered. “Try and hit that target at the end of the hallway.”
Hal looked down the hall they’d just traversed, noticing the bullseye target mounted on the far wall for the first time. The distance was about a hundred feet.
After placing the bolt in the groove, he brought the stock to his shoulder. Hal aimed for a second and pulled the trigger. With a thrumming twang, the bolt sped away to sink into the wall to the left of the target.
“Well, you’ll have to practice that,” Colin said. “On the caravan trail, you’ll be expected to help with hunting as well as protection. You’ll need to be able to hit what you aim at. Do you want to keep it?”
“Yes.”
Proficiency slot selected - Medium crossbow
1 slot assigned.
“Alright, weapons are done,” Colin said. “Now, let’s find you some armor and a shield. I suppose you want to appear as a common low-level mercenary, yes?”
“Yes, I think that’s best so I blend in, don’t you?”
“Agreed. That makes the choice of armor easier. You wouldn’t be able to afford chainmail. We’ll get you some simple ring mail, and a metal-banded wooden shield.”
Colin led Hal around, handing over the remaining items he’d need until he was fully outfitted. Hal looked own at himself. He had on a brown leather jerkin with broad rings of steel sewn onto it with metal wire. The bottom of the jerkin hung down to just below his knees, offering protection to his upper legs.
The rings seemed sturdy enough and Colin told Hal he’d be able to repair any damage on his own with a coil of wire and some spare rings that were added to his backpack. Hal hadn’t thought about that but it made sense. On the caravan trail, a warrior would have to be able to do basic repairs on his or her armor to keep it in working order.
Colin added a pair of metal greaves to wear over his ankles, shins, and knees. That coupled with Hal’s own fire-resistant copper bracers he wore on his forearms were the last pieces of body armor he needed.
A conical metal helmet with a straight nose guard jutting down from it was the final piece of the whole ensemble. There was a chinstrap and metal cheek plates that hung down on each side of the helmet to help protect his face. This was a different sort of armor for a much more up close and personal type of combat than he was used to as a rogue. He was used to combat where surprise, speed, and agility did as much to avoid injury as the armor did. In this case, Hal realized he’d be expected to stand toe to toe with his enemy: nothing between them but his shield and armor. It was going to take some getting used to.
“So, this is the whole get up?” Hal asked Colin.
Colin handed Hal a round, wooden shield. It was banded in iron and had a rounded metal boss mounted in the middle.
“Now you’re all set. I’ve added a few other odds and ends to your pack for repair and maintenance, but this is the basic kit.”
Hal tried moving around in his new armor and found it hard work just to bend and twist while standing in place. He’d definitely have to beef up his brawn stats to help manage the additional weight.
“I guess I’m ready to go, then,” Hal said. “One favor, though, Colin.”
“What is it?”
“There were two men watching the front door when I came in. I distracted them to slip inside but I think I should leave by another door, if you have one.”
“Come with me,” Colin said. “I’ll show you to the back door. It backs up on the stock yards and several taverns where you’ll want to start searching for a caravan to hire on with.”
“Perfect,” Hal replied. “Lead on.”
Hal followed Colin, wincing at the noise he made walking around. He wasn’t even wearing anything approaching full plate armor and he already felt like a walking tank. There’d be no sneaking up on people in this outfit.
Colin led Hal through the building’s various corridors and rooms until he arrived at a barred door. Lifting the bar, Colin pulled open the door and gestured for Hal to proceed.
“Thank you, Colin.”
“Think nothing of it. You’ve done a service to this city in the past. I wish you luck on your next endeavor to the eastern reaches.”
Hal smiled and stepped outside into a dark alley to the rear of the Caravansary Outfitters. Colin closed the door behind him and Hal heard the wooden bar slip in place on the opposite side. Hal turned to the left and headed out to the street. It was time to find employment as a warrior-for-hire.
6
The tavern was crowded and Hal found it difficult to navigate his way through the press of people at the bar. He’d shifted to wearing his round shield on his back via a long leather strap for that purpose. He felt a little like a turtle with his stuffed backpack, blanket roll, and shield all stacked behind him.
Finally, he made his way up to the bartender and ordered an ale. When the man returned with Hal’s drink, Hal slid him an extra silver piece and leaned forward to be heard over the noise around him.
“I’m looking for caravan guard work, heading east. Anyone hiring?” Hal asked.
“Old Ghent is heading east from what I hear. He’s the fat half-elf in the blue robes sitting in the corner over there.” The bartender jerked his chin in the direction of the far side of the room.
“Thanks,” Hal said.
He turned and sipped at his tankard while he scanned the room. Hal spotted the man the bartender described right away. Hal had never met either an elf or half-elf in his previous trip to Fantasma. They were usually found in the forests to the east and north and didn’t often travel outside of their own lands.
Ghent had a slight tilt to his almond-shaped eyes and the hint of a pointed ear tip slipped out from beneath his long hair while he talked to his table companions. He was a large man, his robes covered a large belly and his face was round and full.
Hal had never heard of a fat elf before, well, besides Santa Claus, but he didn’t count. Finishing his ale, Hal set the tankard down on the bar and worked his way across the room towards where Ghent and his companion
s sat.
Ghent looked up as Hal approached, looking him over with an appraising eye.
“Yes, can I help you?” Ghent said when Hal stopped next to the corner table.
“I’m Hal, Mr. Ghent. The bartender suggested I talk to you about hiring on as a caravan guard. I’m looking for work and was hoping to head east in the process.”
“Well, you came to the right place, I suppose. I am preparing to journey east with my goods. I don’t suppose you have any sort of references or someone I could check with to verify you aren’t some sort of plant from one of the bandit clans?”
“I have this letter of recommendation from my cousin, the captain of the palace guard,” Hal said. “Will that do?”
“Palace guard captain you say?” Ghent said. He took the proffered letter and read it. “Says here you helped with a bandit matter in the northern hills for His Grace the Duke. Why’d you get involved in that fight?”
“I don’t like bandits much,” Hal said, thinking of a cover story on the fly. “I lived in a village that was constantly beset by bandits when I was younger until seven heroes came and helped my father and the others run them off. I decided then and there I would grow up and do the same someday.”
Ghent stared at Hal as if he were trying to determine the truthfulness of the tale. After a bit, he shrugged.
“There’s been a good bit of bandit activity to the east since the Emperor’s hold was overthrown here in the West Country. I could use another sturdy soul to help with the defense of my caravan and goods. The pay is one silver piece a day, two on any day we see action. I have a healing mage hired on as well, so any battle injuries will be tended to. Does that sound good?”
Hal had no idea what the going wage was for a caravan guard. He should have checked around first. Still, this was what he wanted and he had to hire on with someone.
Hal extended his hand. “Sounds good to me.”
Ghent leaned forward and clasped wrists with Hal. “Stick around the tavern for a bit and get something to eat. I have business to attend to here. You can come with me back to the camp outside the city when I’m finished.”
“I’ll be right over at the bar, Mr. Ghent, ready to go when you are,” Hal said.
“See that you are and don’t drink too much. I can’t stand a guard who gets drunk on duty.”
“Not a problem with me, sir. I’ll keep it under control.”
Hal turned and worked his way back through the crowded tavern until he stood at the bar again. The bartender came right over and Hal tipped him again while he ordered a second ale.
“Ghent hired you on, eh?” The bartender said.
“Yep. Thanks again for the help,” Hal said slipping a silver piece across the bar. “He seems like a nice enough fellow.”
“My uncle’s worked for him as a guard for years. He’s always spoken well of him.”
“What’s your uncle’s name? I’ll look him up when I join the caravan.”
“Bilham Gary. He the sergeant of the guard and helps work with new recruits for Ghent so I suppose you’ll be introduced to him right away. Tell him Jethro said ‘hi’ when you see him.”
“Will do, Jethro. It’ll be nice to sort of know someone in the caravan before we start out,” Hal said.
Jethro smiled and then was called away to tend to another customer. Hal turned and watched as Ghent dealt with whatever business he had with the two gentlemen at his table. After a while, the three rose and clasped wrists saying their goodbyes. Ghent caught Hal’s eye and jerked his head towards the door.
Hal set his tankard down on the bar and started towards the door to meet up with his new employer. He reached out and pulled the door open, holding it until Ghent passed through then following him outside to the street.
“Do you need to stop anywhere and gather your things before we head to my camp outside the city?” Ghent asked as they walked.
“No,” Hal said. “Everything I have I’m carrying with me.”
“Something to be said for traveling light,” Ghent said with a snort. “Lord knows I was happier when I was a youth like you and could carry everything I owned on my back. Too much responsibility can be oppressive in its own way, son. Remember that.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ghent didn’t have anything else to say as they made their way to the caravan gate. The gate was closed for the night but Ghent had a few words with the gate’s sergeant and slipped him a few coins and they unlocked the small sally port set in the wall beside the gate. Hal and Ghent ducked through and then they were on the road just outside the city walls.
This was Hal’s first time outside of the city proper and, even though he couldn’t see much of the land in the darkness, he still took in the bits of the landscape he could discern. He noticed the lack of the city’s ever-present smell of sweat, dung, and open street sewers. Now that he could smell something approaching fresh country air on the walk to where Ghent’s caravan was camped, Hal took a long deep breath of the crisp night air.
Ghent chuckled next to him.
“One of the best parts of my job is the time between the cities when the only thing I can smell is the horse sweat from the animals in my caravan and good clean country air. It’s different when you’ve been in the city for a while, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir,” Hal replied. “I hadn’t realized I’d become so accustomed to the smell of the city.”
“Well, wait until you get to one of the great eastern cities like Hyroth. It’ll make Tandon smell like a bouquet of flowers in comparison.”
“I look forward to finding out for myself. Thank you for taking me on as a guard, by the way.”
“Not a problem. I’ve got a good man back at the camp that’ll put you through your paces soon enough. If old Bilham doesn’t think you’re suitable, I’ll let you go and find another man or two to take your place. I can always find a young tough who thinks he’s got the heart for adventure and travel.”
“Yes, sir. You won’t be disappointed in me, sir,” Hal said. He needed this job to work out if he was going to head east and find out what happened to Kay.
The two walked towards a ring of wagons, set in a circle with the tongues of each wagon pulled up tight to the wagon in front of it. The arrangement formed a defensive circle that would allow the guards and drivers to fight from cover should they be attacked. Hal didn’t think it was necessary this close to the city, though. He remarked as much as they approached the caravan.
“It’s good practice to keep up our defensive stance even when we don’t need it. That way the lads don’t get out of practice for when we’re on the road.”
They’d almost reached the ring of light from the campfires when a voice from atop a nearby wagon called out.
“Halt, who goes there?”
“See what I mean?” Ghent said to Hal. He looked up and raised his voice. “It’s Ghent and a new hire for the caravan, Garth.”
“Step forward and be identified,” the man on the wagon said as he stood up.
Judging by his silhouette against the campfires behind him, he was holding a crossbow pointed in their general direction, though not aimed at them.
Ghent and Hal stepped up closer and stopped inside the circle of light cast from the campfires set around the circle of wagons. Hal could make out Garth atop the wagon better now. He looked to be a little younger than Hal was, maybe twenty-two or so. The guard lowered his crossbow once he’d identified his boss.
“Garth, this is Hal,” Ghent said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder in Hal’s direction. “Get him settled with a place on the perimeter for the night then return to your post.”
“Should I introduce him to Bilham?”
“No, he can meet Bil in the morning. Let the old guy sleep. He’s earned it after the trip here.”
“Yes, sir,” Garth said as Ghent walked away. He jumped down from the wagon, and gestured for Hal to follow him as he climbed through the narrow gap between the two nearest wagons.
Garth wore
a chainmail hauberk that hung to his knees and a squared off helmet with a spike atop it perched on the top of his head. There was a curtain of chain mail that hung from the back and sides of the helmet to protect the back of his neck. He had a triangular shield slung across his back and a small one-handed battle axe thrust into his belt.
“Ghent said he might pick up a few additional guards here in Tandon. I thought he’d gotten the ones he wanted already, though. How’d he find you?”
“I was looking for work and met him at a tavern in town,” Hal said with a shrug. “I guess he liked the way I looked.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see if you’ve got what it takes. Old Bilham will put you through the paces in the morning. If he says you can handle yourself, you’ll do, I guess.”
“Has Bilham been doing this a long time?” Hal asked.
“Longer than you and I’ve been alive combined. He’s been back and forth from one end of this land to the other. He’s seen most of the eastern cities and the far western towns and farmsteads, too. He’s nice and easygoing as long as you pull your weight. If you’re able to hold your own when he spars with you tomorrow, he’ll decide to keep you on. If you don’t, you’ll be sent packing.”
“Fair enough,” Hal said. “I don’t want to be somewhere I’m not wanted. I can measure up.”
“We’ll see,” Garth said. He pointed to the ground next to one of the wagons. “Here’s your spot. You can spread your blanket roll under that wagon. We don’t have tents so when the weather’s bad we use the wagons as cover from the elements. Only Ghent and old Bilham get to sleep inside one of the covered wagons.”
Hal unslung his shield and shrugged out of his backpack.
“This’ll do fine. Thanks.”
“Good, I’ve got to get back to my post on guard. You’ll get slotted into the rotation starting tomorrow if you work out. Enjoy your last full night of sleep for a while,” Garth said as he walked away.