Chapter 2: A Paradigm Shift

Authors note: A big Thank You to Omachuck for reviewing and proofing this chapter. I can read my work over and over and still not catch the errors.

Almost a month passed with both ladies present, a sort of “detente” was in place with Denise as the Caretaker, but she took her marching orders from the more experienced Greeter Diane (who I later learned had been a Caretaker herself for years before retiring to this position). It was an unusual arrangement, my expectation was that we would only see the Greeter for a short time.

Thom was progressing in his martial arts, sword was lacking but spear was excellent. The two Squires were both hopeless with spears and swords though, fortunately one was favouring the bow, while the other favoured the daggers. Marie, the waif, was probably the most surprising of the four, already steady with a short sword (her size made longer swords problematic) and dagger. Years of sneaking around the Keep, staying out of sight and grabbing distance of randy men, gave her a leg-up on the others in skulking. I might fear her as an assassin, or I might just employ her as one myself.

I was teacher as much as I was student during this time, honing my skills already competent after nearly a decade of weekly use.

Denise pronounced us ready, and then presented us with three tasks. Initially Thom thought he was to rescue all three Damsels, but Diane put him straight. The final choice was a classic abduction. Damsel Johanna had been working as a governess and teacher for a wealthy merchant. Their lands had been raided, and she was taken along with the Merchant’s eldest son. Our plan was to pose as a mercenary group hired by the Merchant to rescue the son, and manage to get the Damsel by way of happy accident. In the land of Chaos (much like ours) no wealthy Merchant would ever pay to rescue a member of their staff.

Dressed in appropriate clothes provided by Denise (and altered by Diane) we set off through the portal to Chaos, a town named RiverBend. I thought its proximity to my own holdings were an added bonus, but kept these thoughts to myself. We arrived in the vault, and it was positively packed with five of us in there.

Opening my Box, I armed and armoured those I could (and promised myself I would rent a larger box and stuff it with many different sized of swords, spears and armour). Thom was the nominal (public) leader of this adventure, so he got my prized sword. I hoped that he wouldn’t have to use it against anyone more skilled than average. We’d look into finding a spear shortly.

Marie had no fewer than four of my daggers secreted on her person. I had no fears for her. The squires had a simple short bow, and a simple short sword each.

My inventory completely empty, I was armed with only a crossbow, but it was a stout one with many quarrels across my back. We managed to equip ourselves in the crowded room without bloodshed, and emerged into the bank proper. I had taken a large purse from the now-empty locker, and tucked it into the folds of my leather jerkin. I glanced at the team, noticing their response to the smell of the place. “I know you have gotten used to the absence of bodily smell on Crossroads but try to limit your response when we walk into the street.” I warned them. We had spoken of it before, but I am certain they did not believe me.

Opening the door of the bank to the street/sewer that was the only real road in this town we were assaulted by the smell of piss, shit and stale humanity. I never got used to it, and it ruined me to many of the pleasures I used to find at my own Keep. My own wife was quite upset at my requiring her to thoroughly bathe before we tried to make a baby. My few attempts so far like seeds falling on fallow soil.

“The stables Sir Thom?” I gestured to our right, toward the edge of town. We had practiced the use of new titles and familiarity in Crossroads.

The Squires led, followed by Sir Thom, and myself behind. Our waif Marie looking like the servant at the very rear.

On my very first Hero visit to Chaos, I recall my Uncle and I being waylaid by four brigands just outside the bank, but in this particular day, either the brigands were absent or our party too large. This would be a bother, as trimming the local criminals for their purse and gear was my primary method of earning coin and my current purse was inadequate to support our group for the entire journey.

Arriving unaccosted at the stables. I haggled successfully for “my master” to have four horses for 5 shells, tack included and a single pack mule. His remaining stock fit only for the butcher. Marie was near at hand, to learn the relative value of the gold Pinches and Quads, most of which was too large a unit of coinage to buy what a single man would want for foodstuffs. A trip to the general merchant for panniers and tents and bedrolls was quick and my simple, too simple.

Watching our horses nose each other as we packed them and the Mule, I noted to the others that they seemed to know each other very well. They nudged and gently snorted at each other with far too much comfort than one would expect from random animals purchased from a transient stables.

Unable to find a suitable spear at the local smiths, we set off after purchasing a simple but stout dagger for myself to supplement what I felt was a very unarmed state. The smells of the town, and the dung and piss filled streets fell behind us as we left in the direction of where the Merchants eldest son was last seen.

Out of sight of the town I reigned in our little band. “That whole town there is in on this, these horses and kit came together too easily. They (I gestured to our horses) know each other too. I’d say we are in for an ambush, it’ll be just under a half days ride away from town. To disrupt the attack, we can camp here, just off the road and wait or we can avoid the roads and make our way through the forest.”

“The horses?” Marc asked

“They’d probably manage better than we would. We could also just hobble them off the road and sneak ahead, looking for the ambush. It would tire us rapidly though” I answered.

We looked to Thom, he looked very uncomfortable at having to make a decision. Eventually Marie piped up “How about both? Half our group sets up camp, as a good practice run and we are still in walking distance of town if we have forgotten anything. Two of us can go looking for these ambushers of yours. If they are there, you can plan out our response. If they aren’t, we only loose half a day.

It was the best idea yet, and we all saw that. “Thank you Marie...” said Thom.

The scouts ended up being myself and Luc (the better archer). We refreshed our simple hand signals learned in Crossroads, and set off. One on each side of the road.

I had to bring Luc to my side quickly, having him follow in my footsteps, literally. He wasn’t silent in the woods yet.

As luck would have it, we found our ambushers just as I was preparing to turn around. It was near twilight and the five of them had decided that they had done enough work for the day. There was no doubt that these men were up to no good. Two crossbows and three stick bows would have just about wiped out our entire party in only a few heartbeats. What to do about them was the issue.

Luc must have been an absolute hellion back home, he didn’t even ask me or coordinate with me, but when he saw all three archers put their quivers down, leaning against the same tree, he just smiled at me and walked in, gathered them up in his arms and walked out. The sounds of men clearing up and saddling horses covered him perfectly.

Seeing as we were committed, I strode into camp from the other side, between one of the crossbowman and his weapon, the good man conveniently stopping to water a tree. “Are you the group that was planning to ambush and kill us?” I asked in a normal voice. The would-be thug turned with his cock still out of his trousers and with a yell, tried to draw a short sword, or long knife that was tangled in the material of his loose pants. Deciding that this was enough of a real threat, I ran him through and cut him down, my dagger already being drawn.

Luc targeted the only man with a crossbow and hit him high, just where the neck meets the torso. I knew (and had repeatedly told him) that excited archers shoot high, so this wasn’t unexpected. I was just glad he hit him at all.

Showing remarkable tolerance for pain, the injured man managed to get a shot off at Luc but missed. Pulling my dagger out in my left hand, I quickly strode toward the three unarmed archers who were frantically looking for their arrows I heard another bowshot, and the farthest man dropped, screaming out. The first man of the two I engaged was trying to parry with his strung bow, and although I thought it a waste, I intentionally cut his bowstring, watching in grim amusement as the bow recoiled and slapped him hard in the face. The stunned man fell quickly after a slash to his throat.

The last ambusher was on his horse in a flash and whipped it to a gallop towards town. Luc sent an arrow after them, but we didn’t see if he hit anything. We decided to stick together and finished saddling two of the remaining horses after carefully putting down the injured.

It was dark when we came to where we had left the rest of the team to make camp. Luc called out, and received the correct “all clear” whistle in response. It took us a few minutes to get the horses to the camp and were very surprised to find an extra horse, and another dead thug at the edge of the camp. “We heard the horse walking along, and Marc saw the man had one of his brother’s arrows in his shoulder, so we chased him down and killed him” Marie said, matter of factly. “He damn near ran his horse to death, so it may not be any use to us.”

Thom looked a little ill at this, and not for the first time did I regret making him the Hero.

We cut out the arrow (broken, but the head was the only part that I could not remake) and stripped the body of clothing and any valuables (not much).

Marie had a cold dinner made. We ate and slept, one of the men keeping watch all night. I had last watch, so slept the best. I also had my crossbow at hand when a small buck wandered right up to the other edge of the road in the false dawn. I weighed the costs and advantages of shooting him, but decided to let him go. The other four slept for another half hour or so before the dawn woke them. We packed up silently and left, each of us now riding a horse now and trailing our gear on the mule. The tired-out spare mount left unburdened and led along at the back.

The ambush site wasn’t far for a fully mounted group, and we spent until about noon sorting out what we could take, and what was to be left behind. Animals had been in the camp overnight, so some leather goods and food had been lost, but much was salvaged. Mounted again, with full packs and spare weapons (Luc took the bow whose string I cut, against my recommendations, but he thought it might not be damaged) we set off again. The affair had cost us a day, but with no injuries, a few new coins and a lot of decent gear, I’d call it a win.

We camped out the next few nights, the weather fine and fair. It was just starting to rain when we sighted the next town. I was familiar with it due to our proximity to MillPond.

MudHole was exactly that, an excellent clay deposit and a good supply of brown earth salt turned this mine into a semi-prosperous town, selling salt-glazed earthenware as good as any I had ever seen.

We rode up to the better of the town’s two inns and tied up the horses out front, One of the Squires staying with them.

“Sir Nathan! Welcome!” The barkeep remembered me at least. “Your uncle was here a few days back with a party of his own, I was asked to pass this message on to you if I saw you.” He pulled out a folded piece of leather. There was no name on it, just an unusual mark. I tucked it away, it could wait.

“Have you rooms still available tonight?” I asked, not really expecting it. The rain would have driven local travellers like us inside and off the roads. He had two, apparently. The largest of the two would be for Sir Thom and myself.

The two Squires and Marie could work it out between themselves.

I opened the letter from my uncle, it was written in Latin, not a language spoken here.

“N. (He was rarely wasteful in his writing), plan is working, not perfectly, but working. One squire ran off and was killed in a drunken brawl, brother is looking for revenge. Keeping the group on track is harder than I had thought it might be. My best estimate is that we will return with half the men we leave with. Skills are definitely rising, but a certain independence of the men is a cause for concern.

Saw a CockBurner one week ago headed east with five rough men. We were in an unnamed town about 3 days East of RiverBend at a tavern with a Cock and a Swine above the door. I stayed out of it, being outnumbered and having no vested interest (he went on to describe her, having not caught her name, but from his description of her, she was probably the one we were searching for). MillPond is well, but could use direction with respect to the sewer works (my father had started having sewers built many years ago). Cash is tight, few brigands will attack a group of five (now four) perhaps luck will turn with a group of four. Happy hunting.”

The letter really didn’t add much to my mission, but I was pleased to hear from him and wrote out a quick reply. We had each other for company on Chaos often until very recently and despite being one of a group of five, I felt very alone.

A meal and a hot bath later had me feeling more human. Having a locked door and a stout roof with a friendly innkeeper led me to the best sleep I’d had since leaving Crossroads despite the snoring of our ‘Hero’.

At breakfast (cheese, bread and dried plums, plus the ever-present watered wine) our host confirmed that the letter had been left about 4 days ago, and that my Uncle had been headed West. I was surprised that we had not crossed paths.

Up and in the saddle, I let our group know that the Damsel we had to rescue was last seen one and a half fortnights ahead to the East

We had nearly two mounts per man (woman) even if one was a mule (The local stable master took pity on the half-dead beast we dragged in and bought it for a quad). Setting off immediately and eating lunch in the saddle we moved along quite quickly, possibly catching up one day for every three we spent in the saddle.

In this manner we spent the next two weeks, sleeping rough when we had to, and depleting my poor purse at the towns when we had the opportunity. Evenings by the trail were spent in weapons practice, I had them drilled in formation fighting and had picked up three mediocre spears in my lands at Millpond when we stopped for an evening at the family house.

Much had changed in the time since I was last here, the early spring was just being planned when I left, and now it was near harvest. The time difference was distracting to say the least.

I spent a few hours clarifying what work should proceed on the sewers, and raided our small stash of coin on the property to further fund my current trip.

The two Squires were inclined to stay and join the farm until I mentioned in passing that sex with the locals resulted in a nasty burning of ones pole. Their overt enthusiasm for shacking up with the locals was curtailed by this news.

Marie was as much the leader of the camp as anyone could ask. She had a good way with the fire, water and food. She was also careful with the meals, ensuring we got a variety of foods, despite the boys’ desire to eat only meat and bread.

Arriving at the inn of the Cock and Swine, I delicately asked the innkeeper if he recalled the group with the beauty, and if they had a youth with them (as he was supposed to be the target of our search). He recalled the beauty, but said that no youth was with them, the four rough men were older, and selling the girls indenture.

Pretending not to care much, I asked what they wanted for the cockburner.

Turning very red, the man replied through gritted teeth “I said I wanted to try her out before buying her for ten shells, they charged me four pinches! My rod burned for two fuckin’ days. If you see those men, give ‘em a dagger for me! Ten Shells! They didn’t tell me she was a Burner!”

I sympathized with the idiot, and rented rooms for the night. The disappearance of the young man could be anything, but I guessed that we’d never know.

A hearty (if plain) breakfast (with morning drills and instruction for a change) spent enough of our time for the sun to mostly dry up the roads and we ate up the miles at a quick trot, changing mounts frequently.

Weeks later and the harvest was in progress, we seemed to always be just behind this group. Every few days we heard of trouble they’d caused, or a fight they’d started, or some such nonsense.

We pulled into town, this one suitably large enough for two taverns. Glancing in the first, I was unimpressed with its dirt floors and stench. Hoping the other would be better, I stepped in and was surprised to see our Damsel, bedraggled and filthy, but alive and in the company of not four, but eight men. “Innkeeper, have you rooms for the night? I will also need to stable two horses and a mule” I asked, trying to memorize the layout of the room, and not appear too interested in the large group in the corner with the damsel “I’m sorry sir, but rooms are full tonight, we’ve just had another ... er ... large party arrive...” he looked sweaty and nervous.

“Shame,” I said “I don’t suppose the rooms at the other tavern in town are any better than their common room was?”

“No Sir, I’d not recommend it to you at all sir. For a pinch each, the hayloft at the stables down the way is the better bet. Our rooms may be full, but I can serve ya’ a meal if ye’d like...” he said, getting back into his normal patter I’d expect.

“I’ll take you up on that offer, I and my two partners will be back after stabling the horses” I lied quickly and stepped back out the door. We did, in fact, go to the stables and arrange for boarding of the animals, and ourselves. Sweet dry hay is actually a wonder to sleep on.

The plan was a simple ambush.

Thom, I, and Marie would have a meal at the tavern, the Squires would stay out of sight and eat hard rations. We would be off before the dawn and set an ambush outside of town, as spears and bows are not exactly well used in a barroom brawl, and it’s easier not to kill the Damsel if you’re fighting in the open.

Dinner was a chore, I had to keep Thom from watching the large group, and starting something right there. He’d been bored, and missing his lady, and Marie wasn’t interested. Now the girl we needed (and he obviously wanted) was within reach and it was hard to get him out the door and back to the stables.

“You need to be alive to get back to your lady you fool!” I whispered once we were many strides past the door. “Do it safely and you get the girl, hell, you get both girls. Rush in and you get dead! We leave before first light” I took first watch, just to make sure that the big idiot didn’t get any stupid ideas. Marie had last watch, and made up a quick meal for us to eat in the saddle.

We rode out an hour, and then set our own ambush with archers supporting from behind and three spears in front. Our thought was to goad them to attack the two “lightly armed men” on horseback just by the edge of the forest and then hit them with the arrows from the side and a bolt from my crossbow before drawing our long spears from the trees. We practiced a few times and it seemed to work. With good shooting by the archers, this would be considered overkill, but better safe than sorry when using inexperienced archers.

Only four horses plodded along just before lunchtime and once they’d passed our hiding archers, but I recognized them all even from this far off and we stepped our horses out onto the path.

The idea was to goad them into attacking, but they needed no prompting. All four drew swords at the same time and picked targets. Just like in the plan, I got a shot off, but if I hit one of them, it didn’t slow them down at all. Both our archers got a shot off, but missed as well.

The spears were brought into use just in time. Marc ended up spearing a horse, that dumped his rider as he reared and then fell. I managed a passable torso hit, and my target was out of the fight. Thom barely managed to cut his target, but took a nasty cut of his own to his off-arm as the man passed him on his right (a couple of inches higher and he would have lost his head). With Thom out of the fight, Marc and I drew swords and reengaged the remaining two men.