《A League Apart - Journeys to the Beacons》Chapter 9 - The Outworlder's New Clothes
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The outworlder sat cross-legged and tranquil on his rented bed, in his 20 Tesson a night room at a cosy establishment by the name of the Green Dawn. A room adorned with Magitech fairy lights across it's flamboyantly-designed coved ceiling shone a subdued orange on all four walls, a pulsating daisy-chain of candlelight casting their own shadows on the light green painted wall beside them. Outside, the footfalls and chatter of the citizenry gradually died, and returned the soundscape to a soundless night.
A golden moment of relaxation washed over him. All he could do was smile at the state of affairs he found himself in. He was condemned to death the moment he sat foot on Anteia, and yet he found himself fed and comfortable in a scenic inn, in a friendly town and a possible job lined up. No matter the circumstances, he was doing something with his time, instead of wasting away in an apartment on the predatory side of the concrete jungle. He was beginning to take the Cervidian's words to heart. He had an auspicious future, no matter the circumstance of his arrival.
Power, money, and notoriety were in his hands waiting to be clasped, but he couldn't say that it was ever his ultimate dream to hold them. Neither did he explicitly want a white picket fence, a doting wife, and children the spitting image of their parents. He had always done what he did because he wanted to, spurred by the feelings of the moment and savouring the experiences of the present. When it was over, it was over. He never cried for the old days. He just wished he could move from moment to moment with pleasant encounters along the way. This was the case before his fall from grace sucked his energy and will, and it was now renewed with vigour, for better or worse. What could he seek for completeness on a new world? He wished someone could tell him, and that he could believe it.
He heard a rapping at his chamber door. A weapon popped in and out of his hands, before he thought better of it and hopped off of the bed to greet whatever nuisance was disturbing him. As the wood of the door parted the doorframe, Tealeato came into view, still in her battle dress, but noticeably unarmed and red-faced.
"I've co-come to amend my words. properly. I overstepped my bounds in my demands, and hope you still choose to work with us.." She stumbled over her obviously scripted words. Cameron knew who provided the material. He bit his lower lip, and responded apologetically in turn.
"I wanted to say sorry as well." He breathed a heavy sigh in capitulation. "I wasn't delicate with my words. I could have put them better,"
Regardless of his words, Cameron was aggravated by the interruption of his introspection. Clarity didn't come easily to his clouded mind, and Tealeato had ripped him away from his pseudo-meditation at an unreasonable hour.
"I suppose we both could have done better. I have been through my rite before, and experienced many points of view from the people I have met. I should have known that some on the outside world would be uncomfortable with our ways. I'm glad you haven't written myself and my sisten off the to-do list. Could I be so upfront as to ask you if you still considered helping us?"
The Ogre's words irked Cameron. 'Some would be uncomfortable'? Is that a jab? Still, in the spirit of co-existence and his standard 'let live' attitude, he chose to overlook the inflammatory words. He teetered on the edge of acceptance and irritability, but eventually conceded in favour of acceptance of the warrior's apology.
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"I will. To be honest, I've been here for less than a day and yet I adore this town." Affection came easily to Cameron just as hate and revulsion did, and he'd been treated well here. "I hate the idea of some thug cat burglar on the outskirts doing what he did to Old Plateau onto Vinewall.
"I'm in. Just know, my word is law out there. You're welcome to tag along, but don't move without my say so. I can't help if you rush ahead." Cameron made well aware that she wasn't needed. It wasn't the mature thing to do, but it did make him feel good.
"I'm glad. I will not be coming, however. My sister made it clear I am to rest, no matter my appeals to the contrary." A hand reached to her throat, but was prematurely put away, an embarrased look upon the warrior's face. Mindy's good people. She cares for her sister. Casualties were not rare in his line of work, and neither were injuries. Cameron knew everyone needed time to come to terms of how fragile they were. He also knew how strong they could be when they came out the other side. Knowledge that Cameron seemed to forget applied to him, too.
"Understood. I'll be at the tavern at midday. Can you two come along, and fill me in on the target? Anything would help, so don't spare a detail." The warrior at his door smiled, and bid farewell to the mercenary. Her smile faded as soon as she was out of view of the rude mercenary.
If Mindikalata get's hurt, he dies. The pride of the conclave, Tealeato, vigourously paced down the white steps of the inn.
Cameron found himself on the main street, wandering here and there aimlessly with his hands in his pockets and his eyes drifting over the bright storefronts. After counting his money, he found Dastilan had paid him enough to not have to work for a year, and still comfortably enjoy his inn room and the heavenly meals from the Bloody Dress. What do I actually need...? His eyes wandered to and fro over the stores. A Magitech emporium stocked more with lights and lifestyle appliances than weapons and adventuring gear pulled his gaze, before he thought better of it. This sucks. When do I get glowy shields and lightning wands? Continuing past the emporium, he saw butchers, alchemists, bakeries, carpenters, all manner of services and goods a person could need. Ah. A tailor, of course! He didn't want for clothes given his ability, but he did want to blend in with the townspeople. His current outfit, with polycotton blends, elastic waistlines and rubber soled boots didn't match his surroundings well. Besides, he thought, when in rome, dress as the romans dress.
That was exhausting. Still, I probably levelled up my scarecrow impression a couple times.
A new man stepped from the doorway of the establishment. Cameron had asked for an average set of threads to start, but the fabric and leathers on the racks and spools were anything but. Strong, stabproof animal skins, magically-treated furs and wool, ebony clasps and decorated buttons, a smorgasbord of material lay within his reach. A well decorated fellow stepped out of his back room at the chime of the bell on the door, and he greeted Cameron vigorously, shaking his hands and eyeing him up for a fit. Cameron realised he must have been an elf, owing to his large height and tall, flat ears that poked out of his long blonde hair. The outworlder's jealousy of the man's gorgeous looks eventually died down, and he gave the elf free reign to design an outfit for him.
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The tailor was excellent. His eyes twinkled with inspiration, His object of fascination was the outworlder infront of him; A roughly 6 foot 1 inch man with brown hair, a shaved short back and sides haircut accentuating his slim, somewhat attractive face. His canvas was ready to be painted. The theme of the day? Handsome, tough, and capable: A classic 'grizzled mercenary' look formed, with a medium-brown, form fitting leather jacket interspersed with two breast pockets, a high collar covering most of the neck, and a series of square buttons keeping it closed. A loose and comfortable white flowy shirt, long enough to tuck in, with a slight v-neck cut laid underneath, and form fitting grey trousers made with leather from a Rhino-type beast from the eastern border allowed him good mobility.. The tailor apparently made shoes as well, and pointed Cameron to a pair of rugged dark brown laced boots that came up to just above his ankle.
He tried to talk Cameron into buying a rugged backpack as well, but he was comfortable with the MOLLE pack he carried, the modern kit having ample padding and more pockets than it's Anteian contemporaries. The one thing Cameron wished for was kept out of his reach: A real, honest to God bag of holding, decorated with gold and purple stiching and a wide drawstring entryway that allowed 4 times more of what it could hold unenchanted. Unfortunalely the expensive piece of kit was useless to him. He would be able to put things inside, but taking them out required interfacing with the magicks on the bag. This sucks so friggin bad. The clothes are nice though. And... really fucking expensive.
The man felt reborn for the second time in 2 days. Retail therapy had done him wonders, as he circled the trinket and knick-knack stores and picked up some handy and not so handy pieces. A deer whistle, a plain handheld mirror, a particularly strong cologne,and a large waterskin that Cameron was surprised to find worked like a backpack flask, complete with what the storeowner said was a snake-intestine straw. Apparently, it's natural resilience and some traditional Alchemical treatments made it a fine material for stretchy, bendable objects. The thing he loved the most by far however, was an outstandingly attractive silver firestarter with a handle of brown snakeskin, operated by removing the metal flint stick from the top and pulling it across the rough textured strip on the side of the handle. It had a single magical glyph on the bottom, but Cameron didn't truly care what it did. It started fires, and he could use it without magic, so he bought it.
The red sun was nearly at it's zenith, yet Cameron was taking his time walking to the Bloody Dress for the meeting. The townspeople had the same idea, and strolled into eateries and restaraunts stationed all across the main street. It seemed lunchtime was at midday here, as an escape from the heat and an opportunity to bask in the shade. He had wondered how this town came to be, and never had an opportunity to ask. It was a strikingly scenic town with carefree and seemingly rich residents, but he rarely saw a guard, or any kind of authority. It felt like a tourist town, with it's commodities targeted towards wealthy holidaymakers and drunken revellers, but the town itself was on the edge of the country, close to the Cobarlian forests, and as such it was unreasonable to expect many visitors to travel so far to visit.
It's layout was clean and maneuverable, nothing like what he had expected from the pseudo-medieval towns he believed he would see. The straight streets, passageways and areas of greenery and parks made the town a joy to navigate, compared to a city's typical messy organic growth. Usually, form gave way to function nine times out of ten as new houses and paths were constructed. This town seemed planned, somehow. Maybe there's a 'History of Vinewall' book in the library. Wherever that is, anyway.
He continued his musings until he reached the Bloody Dress, and surprisingly got a seat straight away, again on the balcony like the previous day. The establishment's owner smiled in recognition, and ushered him to a table next to his previous one. She's trying to make me a regular. It might be working. He asked for something light, and their best beer, before reclining in the cushioned chair and stretching. The food had arrived fast, faster than a modern restaraunt chain could deliver it, and the alcohol was a perfect temperature. Cameron got a gulp and a bite into the meal, and melted in pleasure. Yeah. I'm definitely a regular.
"He's faster than me, but I'm stronger than him. It's frustrating... I can't keep up with him, and he can't kill me. Thus the silly game continues. Mindy's nearly as fast but can't finish him with her strength. We're in a rut, essentially. We need someone to step in. You in?" The two travelling Ogre warriors had arrived a short time after Cameron had cleaned his plate. They were a lot more comfortable around him now. Maybe me pretending to know what I'm doing worked?
"I am. I promised, right?" A business smile adorned his lips.
"You did. I half expected you to blow us off though, after sis stuck her knife at your neck." Mindy casually mentioned the unpleasantness from before hand, her eyes creasing along with her cheeky smile, and Tealeato went a strawberry red, and hit her sister's shoulder. Mindy frowned, and rubbed her well deserved injury.
"Mindy! Can you not mention my mistake again, please?" Tealeato couldn't make eye contact with the grinning Cameron, who was enjoying the banter between the two.
"I'm over it, honestly." The outworlder sat up alert in his chair, as a signal that the proceedings have begun. The two quieted down, and looked to him with expectance.
"I need to know what the man's like, what magicks he could have, exactly how fast he is, etcetera."
"Well, he's a wolfkin." Mindy spoke non-chalantly about her nemesis. "They usually aren't very mage-y. More into body strengthening and enhancement, it's a cultural thing. We've not been on the end of any fire and brimstone, sooo that's probably the case here too. He uses 'Fortification' and 'Acceleration', stuff like that. Hard to tell unless you ask the guy yourself. White glowing doesn't really give much away, after all." Cameron fell into thought.
"Okay, so 'Fortification'. How strong does that make him? Swordproof? Arrowproof? What about a javelin?" I need some sort of barometric for these sorts of things. A 5.56 round won't be the answer to all of my encounters, after all.
"We've not really hit him with anything other than a real good stab to the leg with my shortsword, but when it landed it only went in about an inch. That was a perfect hit, too. I was pissed that he shrugged it off." Mindy frowned slighty in reminiscence.
Cameron stroked his chin in contemplation. I'm gonna need something that could pierce Type 2/3 armour, maybe? I can't exactly ask these two what muzzle velocity I'd need to get through that skin of his.
"I can get through that. Part of my skillset. How about detection? I know he's got a vantage point, but how good are his eyes? Does he use any 'Analysis' type magic?" He worried about Mindy and her mandatory accompaniment. He'd be fine skulking off after a failed ambush, but he wouldn't leave the young girl alone.
"Eh, wolfkin aren't known for that, really. His eyes would definitely be excellent? He's a city boy though, so his natural tracking and sense of smell probably haven't been well honed." Thank God. If he's alone, we'll be fine.
"Does he have any allies? Anyone else who could be there, or get in our way?" Tealeato replied to the question with a scoff.
"No. He was notorious in Old Plateau for being a cantankerous loner. No one liked him, even among the criminal element he consorted with there. He'll most definitely be alone." The warrior was certain.
"Good. One more question, then. Are there any neighbouring cliffs of the same height, or level there? One we could get to without exposing ourselves, preferably under the cover of trees and foliage?" Cameron started to smile, a working plan formulating in his head.
"What, for a stealth approach, or something? It won't really do us any good. There's no trees or bushes or stuff close to the shack for us to continue to hide in after we leave the closest cliff.. unless you want to hit a Magi-Longbow shot from 800 metres, then the cliff to the west of him wont help us much." Mindy shrugged. Cameron however, was elated by the information.
"800 metres?" The Ogre siblings were confused. What was he so happy about?
"That's perfect. How strong you reckon the wind up there, is?"
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Desolada
For millennia the demon lords known as the Goetia enslaved the human race, until a group of mortals known as the Archons received divine blessings of power and overthrew them. Under their dominion mankind flourished, though the war in the shadows never ended. A thousand years later, sixteen-year-old Leones' family is executed for the crime of heresy. Burned to death for questioning whether the Archon of Flames is a divine being, and whether any of the Archons truly are. After manifesting the power to control time, Leones survives and embarks on an uncertain journey for power and revenge. But if he is to overcome a god, he may need some help. Along the way he will discover the truth behind the demon lords, time, and reality itself, as he walks along the razor path. Artwork is used with permission from the creator, @chinfongart. Updated on Tuesdays and Saturdays
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