Hinterland Fortress

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Hinterland Fortress Page 2

by Ron Smorynski


  Men were clearing that off, but it looked like only two tired men were doing it, slowly laboriously on the many towers and walls that spanned the sizeable area. It was a steep rising rock island, perfect for a fortress amidst a sea of swamplands.

  The lower end had two entrances, one for the road, the other to the docks and another road. The front area housed smaller shacks and tents. The steep slope rose up to larger buildings and an interior wall that separated the keep and noble structures far up on the rear cliff side. Everything had a feel of unfinished construction or newly built atop old rocks and ruins.

  There were plenty of rot and soil built up around it but the rock was showing, giving it a solid feel. Rhyal noted a network of shoddy docks and tents camped out to one side. A plethora of dinghies, rafts, and barges were parked or in various forms of being built or repaired.

  Rhyal saw amongst them, since he was quite unique, a very short and feisty gnome. She heard him screaming at the boatmasters and boatswains. Not that there were many there, just a handful. One larger craft seemed like an actual trade vessel, a small schooner of some kind. It was definitely not sea worth, for its body was more bloated and low, its sails minor. It had a row of holes for rowers.

  "That's a large water vessel," Rhyal said, hoping to spark Jurgeon to speak more.

  He looked up. "Uh, yeah, a few traders are trying a waterborne route into the Evermire swamp, from an old sea port to the south. The mountains are high and rugged there, but a path, they have found. We'll see if it can be maintained."

  "Why's that?" Rhyal asked. Ender peered on, most curious.

  "Oh, you know why the Duke came, don't yah?" Jurgeon sighed.

  "Of course we do, the minstrels told the tale of lost treasures and riches and glory to be had," Ender spoke.

  "Paid for by the Duke himself!" Jurgeon said. "It appears he caught you two in his snare for fame and fortune!"

  "We don't seek either. I wasn't inclined to come here. I am an elf who seeks knowledge and lore," Rhyal sighed. "But Ender has grown up in the marshes that border the elven realm, so I thought..."

  "Rhyal heard the verses on ancient magics lost in the ruins and legends of the Evermire! And now, as the waters sink and the land rises, those arcane relics are waiting to be discovered!" Ender interjected.

  "Bah hah!" Jurgeon could not help himself, laughing at the two young ones. "Idealists? Adventurers! Saviors! Take your poison!" He coughed a bit, laughing too hard as Rhyal and Ender gave each other and the ornery dwarf a look.

  They came to the gate of the fortress, and oddly, the few guards and traders there barely gave them a look.

  "Well my frosty young friends, this is where we depart," Jurgeon said. "I must deliver my goods and thank you for your services, protecting me from some feisty goblins! And keeping me company!"

  Rhyal and Ender slowly got off the wagon as Jurgeon jumped off, ready to lead his wagon of goods somewhere.

  They stared blankly at the grounds within the fortress. Jurgeon sighed a bit realizing they were most definitely at a loss.

  "See these buildings before me, to my right?"

  They nodded blankly as a group of muddy ruffian looking men stomped by. They wore tough leathers, had various shoddy weapons, and carried sacks. They gave Rhyal a very ungentlemanly scowl and Ender a plain old mean scowl. Jurgeon stepped between to casually keep them apart.

  "As I was saying, these buildings over here are the Merchants of Trade. I go there to sell my goods, and get a new order in. I will stay a night, getting some poor ale and a poor but decent bed in the inn just beyond the Merchants."

  "What's that big building beyond?"

  Jurgeon looked and saw what Ender was pointing at. It was a compound of three solid looking and most recently built buildings with iron bars enclosing the area. "That, my youngster, is the Merchants & Banking firm. They are quite different than the brigands who run the Trade buildings. Don't go there! They won't let you in anyway."

  Rhyal and Ender nodded like two confused children. Both then peered to their left where a lot of shacks, tents, and wagons were parked. Though there were plenty of sellers and shop keepers, there seemed to be very few buyers. All had the same scallywag look as the few ruffians who walked about.

  "That is Craftsman Row. They're having a tough time waiting for youngsters like you, or those brigands, to come be successful in some small way and buy their goods."

  "What are they selling?" Ender asked, curious. "Especially here in such a far away place?"

  "Anything they can really: cooked foods, provisions for travel, healing ointments. Whatever you need to help successfully find the arcane relics you so desire!" Jurgeon replied with a wry smile.

  Rhyal and Ender were intrigued and wanted to go explore the shops.

  "Oh, and there is a blacksmith, tanner, other skilled craftsmen here, all financed or paid off by the Duke and his investors. Yuh pretty much have to bribe skilled tradesmen to come here! What a venture!" Jurgeon said, as Rhyal and Ender anxiously hurried away.

  Jurgeon wanted to wave but stopped, feeling a bit annoyed.

  Rhyal turned, "We hope to see you again very soon!"

  Jurgeon thought a moment, smiling. "Why yes, yes indeed! Till then!" He waved as they waved and went off. "Yes indeed, I hope very much so," he said, turning to his task. He eyed the Merchants of Trade sign, a rotting wood post with their name scrawled on it. He scowled. "Time to get chipped off."

  Rhyal and Ender rushed over to the Craftsmen Row. It was only a dozen shacks, wagons and tents, plopped in the lower part of the rock mound, against the eastern wall of the fortress. They could see further west the land rising, to larger buildings being built and another inner wall to the Duke's keep. It was obvious that that side was where the leaders and royalty resided.

  Though Rhyal came from a noble house of elves and she had good coin, she knew that meant nothing here. She was not naive in such matters.

  "I think we should see what supplies they have and go seek out those orcs!" Ender said.

  "Just the two of us? Attacking orcs?" Rhyal replied, stopping him. "We're going to need help!"

  "Help? From them?" Ender answered, glancing surreptitiously to a group of ruffian looking men. They were obviously some kind of mercenaries or probably brigands seeing if this place would provide them profit through pirating ways. They had rusty chains, rough worn weapons and looked like they may just as well be orcs or half orcs by their unkempt demeanor. The ruffians eyed Rhyal and Ender. Several were rough handling a poor merchant selling small wood cages with birds in them. They did not look nice.

  "Oh oh," Rhyal sighed as they saw the group meandering toward them. It wasn't like there were many others to bother. Rhyal looked at her fine tunic and cloak, having somewhat the color of a blazing fire. Ender was in well made leather and bore two fine short swords. He was quite skilled with his blades, trained well by the elves. But Rhyal did not want to test him out on some ruffians. She then glanced around to see if there were any town guards. It did not look like any were present. "Where are the guards?"

  "Guards?" Ender asked, keeping an eye on the ruffians as they came closer. Many of them started to fix their gazes on the two.

  "Where have you been!" a raspy voice yelled up at them.

  Rhyal and Ender still gazed at the ruffians coming but saw that they all stopped and peered down. It took Rhyal and Ender a moment to realize the change in demeanor of the men.

  "I've been looking for you all this time! The Merchants have signed the deal and expect us to be on our way!" the voice called out, making sure everyone heard.

  Rhyal and Ender looked down to see the rascally looking gnome looking up at them. He had seen better days in his patchy clothes and worn gloves. He winked.

  3. Fifty-fifty

  The ruffians heard the word 'merchant' and backed away. Rhyal noted that the gnome came closer, looking as spiffy as he could in his rag tag merchant garb. Perhaps it was once purple, weeks or months ago, but now it was unkempt a
nd squalid looking.

  "The Merchants want to meet us for the job. Come on!" the gnome said.

  Ender knelt down, giving the gnome a childish smile. The gnome eyed him with a scowl and walked off quickly.

  Ender looked up to Rhyal as she passed him and followed the gnome. They cleared the Craftsmen Row and headed along the muddy path to the Inn & Tavern. It did not yet have a name it seemed. It just had a musty sign with 'Inn & Tavern' scrawled on it with red paint.

  The gnome had curly ginger hair, a pronounced nose and cheeks like any gnome. He was quite small, like a small child, but walked with a strong gait. He wore a cap and cloak, both trite and dirty.

  The Evermire was indeed a swamp, but it was more cold and dank, than warm and rancid. It was more a bog, a mire, than a jungle swamp or sunny marsh. The mist in the air gave a slight chill to the bones.

  Ender caught up to Rhyal. "Why are you following him?"

  Rhyal whispered aside to him,"He freed us from the brigands."

  "And where's he leading us?"

  "To the Merchants, I hope," Rhyal said.

  Both passed a small shack set up before the Inn & Tavern. Its purpose, they hadn't a clue. The gnome seemed to disappear.

  They looked to the entry way to the inn, an alcove in enclosing buildings. But they only saw manfolk entering or leaving.

  "Pssst!" the gnome's voice rose up.

  Both were not use to such dimensions of height, or lack there of. They turned to see him standing behind the shack, waiting for them. He rubbed his little hands together.

  "Saw you come in with that dwarf trader, Jurgeon," the gnome said. "I'm Ligo, by the way, trader, agent, manager extraordinaire!" He bowed in his tiny form.

  He looked up to see them both staring at him, like he was a child, with their soft polite smiles. He rolled his eyes. "Follow me!"

  He hurried along into the Inn & Tavern. They followed, glancing about much too curiously.

  It was a large plain lodge, still minimally furnished and much of the wood, at least above, had a fresh look to it. The floor and chairs were definitely riddled with many dried layers of mire mud, something the innkeeper certainly gave up trying to clear away seasons ago.

  The benches and tables were crude, quickly built. A lone skull of a long-snouted kroko-drake hung on the wall. It wasn't cleaned very well nor hung with any expertise. Like much of the Hinterland Fortress, the Inn & Tavern was not yet fully established.

  Ligo the gnome sauntered to a bench, quickly rolling himself up and onto it. He sat hunched on his knees.

  Rhyal looked for Jurgeon. It was early in the day, she felt with her elven senses. It was not yet night here. The gray of night was, well, darker in tone, and the gray of day was still in full swing.

  They had a fire going, slow, flickering at one end. The fireplace was partial stone, lots of dried clay and mud that then spanned out to the wood. Everything in there gave off a musty damp feel. There were quite a few workers or task men in there.

  Two tables had adventurer types, including some dwarves ready to seek out lost relics. They looked quite able, experienced, with great armour and weapons. Rhyal knew, as an elf, they were quite disinterested in them. She was even surprised Jurgeon took them on as 'escorts' for his small wagon of trade. These however looked venerable and capable.

  The dwarves caught the sight of Ligo and ignored him as he waved a quick wave hoping they'd notice. He hid his gesture by sniffing a snuff.

  Another table was filled with ruffians like the men they saw outside. It appeared there was going to be a mix of these types, fleeing towns and cities that may have caught wind of their criminal endeavors. And these ones didn't look too bright. Perhaps coming out here to a remote fortress, searching in the bog for treasures, fending off foul creatures and goblins was the perfect fit?

  Rhyal sat carefully near Ligo, trying to sit as lightly as possible, to avoid rubbing the dried, caked mud from the chair upon herself. She then realized her wardrobe was quite mud-ridden already.

  Ender plopped down across from them, putting on an act Rhyal had not seen before. He acted tough. He eyed her to play along.

  "So my new friends," Ligo started, waving for service. The inn keeper was busy.

  Behind the gnome, Rhyal waved a known coin from Telehistine. The innkeeper noticed immediately and went over.

  "Well, finally I get some respect around here!" Ligo said, then saw as Rhyal handed the innkeeper the precious coin. His tiny gnome eyes bulged from under his cap and thick ginger hair.

  "Whatever Ligo the Trader wishes," Rhyal said.

  "Ligo?" the innkeeper asked. He was a portly man, with black greasy hair and a few skin lesions. He was the perfectly rejected kind from any regular settlement.

  "Oh yes, my dear Brunswick the innkeeper!"

  Brunswick the innkeeper nodded.

  "Ales for all of us. The good kind!" Ligo realized, pointing his idea finger up.

  "Halfling size for the three?" the innkeeper wondered, sizing them up.

  "Manfolk size for us all will do just fine! Off with you then!" Ligo said a bit loudly.

  Brunswick's brows raised as he looked to Rhyal the Elf. "Kindly elf friend." He raised the Telehistine coin, flipped it into his waist pouch, and turned to get their order.

  The gnome nodded with a pouty look, quite happy. Ender peered at him, anxious to ask, but wanting Rhyal to start.

  She was unsure of exactly what to ask. All three sat glancing politely at each other.

  "Well!" Ligo suddenly blurted. "I'm Ligo, the Crusty Gnome Trader!" he said. Then he realized something, "No wait... not crusty! Just Ligo the Gnome Trader! Yes that's it. I'm a trader, but more importantly, a handler, a manager, and by the looks of it, you two need guidance as it were, here in the Evermire."

  Ender and Rhyal gave each other a look.

  The dwarves suddenly burst out guffawing. They were in their own ale drinking circle, talking in their own tongue of old times and events, of exploits and histories. The three looked but the dwarves were definitely not laughing at nor concerned with them.

  "As I was saying, oh thank you!" Ligo quipped.

  The innkeeper brought three mugs of fine ale. "Your coin will pay for the evening drinks."

  Rhyal nodded.

  Ligo looked up. "What? All of them?"

  The innkeeper was off already.

  Rhyal sniffed hers. Ender drank a good draught. The gnome slurped over and over, carefully, for the mug was quite large. He stared open eyed as he slurped.

  "As I was saying, you two need a manager, someone to handle your affairs while you are here! And that someone happens to be little ole me!" Ligo said, slurping some more.

  "How so?" Ender asked.

  "Simple, you're looking for jobs. I know where to get them!"

  "You have a job for us then?" Rhyal asked. "You said the Merchants."

  "Well, no, not yet! Didn't know I was looking for one. I said that because the bandits around here only respect one thing, Merchants! That's were all coin, trade, barter, and salvage goes through. Hence... always say, business of the Merchants or hired by the Merchants! But don't use it too often! Especially if you aren't working for the Merchants! But we don't need them! There's a lot to be had out here in the mire, the ever expansive uh... Evermire!" he said. "Plus, all these mercenaries and adventurers come here, and guess what, not very many return from the mire!"

  Ender’s and Rhyal's brows raised on that one.

  "That's right!" Ligo noticed their look. "That's right, they take on these dangerous legendary demon this or fallen wizard that lore, then POOF... never to return! Stupid, right? Well, I can see by your youth and lack of experience that such heroic tasks are not in your cards! What you, we, need... are tasks at hand, tasks that do not require long journeys deep into the dreadful mire, but tasks around here, for starters... I know... I've seen a few tasks fall far short of their glory. As in, well, dead."

  Rhyal looked at Ligo's attire and lack of wealth. "Were you part of
these failed tasks then?"

  Ligo nodded no quickly, setting his mug down. He looked a little woozy from the manfolk mugsize portion of ale. His mug was half empty. "Yes, " he finally said. "A few, some, just all my investment on a few greedy warriors who thought they could handle anything. They even had a zippy zap... like you!" Ligo twiddled his fingers, obviously miming a spell caster.

  He seemed suddenly forlorn, hugging his large mug. "And now, here I am, broke and destitute, losing everything to anxious adventurers who didn't heed the warnings!"

  "I tracked some orcs off the trail coming in. They had attacked and taken a wagon of supplies," Ender said, wanting to get down to business.

  Ligo awoke from his self-deprecation. He blinked a moment. He sort of sat up. "What's that? Attacked on the road?"

  "We were also attacked by goblins two days out," Rhyal added.

  "Attacked? Now? Oh oh oh... perfect, its close, by the road, can retreat. Wagons you said?" Ligo thought out loud, seeming to count something on his fingers.

  "A supply wagon, taken by orcs. The drivers killed," Ender said.

  "Supply wagon. What kind of supplies?" Ligo asked.

  "Small things were littered on the ground: nails, wood, an axe, probably from one of the traders."

  "Merchants of the Trade! Raw materials are quite valuable way out here. Any disruption, delays and such, in the supplies is very costly. Chances are, they'll be forming their own team to go and find this stuff. But you said you tracked some orcs? Can you track them?"

  "As long as the tracks are still there. But the path they took seemed limited," Ender said.

  "Limited? Right you are! In the mire, the waters are receding but still there is plenty out there, and the paths throughout are limited... yes... yes..." Ligo spoke excitedly but carefully. He looked up at Ender and Rhyal. "Fifty-fifty, we split everything!"

  "Fifty? Half?" Ender retorted.

  "You want half of what?" Rhyal asked.

  "Of everything! Whatever you find, whatever loot or salvage and, and, AND whatever we trade back, sell back to the Merchants!" Ligo was definitely in his element now. "See, if we get that loot first, and bring it back here, we have rights of salvage, and can sell it to the Merchants! And it just happens that they know me and I know them. And as a trader, I have rights to salvage. If you find it, why they'd just claim you stole it!"

 

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