Azrael

Year 1, Month 2, Week 2, Day 4

Azrael swung his spinesword just a little too slowly, and the ostrich leapt nimbly backwards, the goblin riding it shouting at the elavis in a jabbering language that he didn't understand. When Azrael initially came across the ostrich-riding goblin in this forest, he wasn't sure what the thing wanted, but when the small, green-skinned creature took out a rusty sword and started rushing at him, Azrael chalked it up to either his life or his possessions and engaged it in combat. It was just as well; another body to submit to Draeg was a good thing, even if the sword was not.

The sword was indeed a rusty sword, and fairly normal sized sword, but due to the goblin's own size, it functioned well as a cavalry sword; it came down once, then twice. Azrael blocked both times, but was kicked to the ground by the ostrich; he avoided getting disemboweled by the large bird only because he had his bone armor active. He fell to the forest floor and let loose a bolt of bone from his hand at the ostrich, causing the bird to shy away instead of charging like the goblin obviously intended his mount to do. The bolt of bone narrowly missed the ostritch, snatching off a few wing feathers. The goblin changed tactics, holstering the sword in a tough leather loop on the side of his saddle; he pulled out a bow in its place and began firing at Azrael as the ostrich ran in a wide circle around the elavis.

Azrael reacted to this by firing another bolt of bone, but willing it to shatter on the way out. The range of the bolt suffered, but he effectively made the bolt cover a sizable area in a broad cone with tiny, piercing shards, which caught the ostrich and the goblin both by surprise. The ostrich fell back and the goblin tumbled off the saddle and went rolling until he hit the trunk of a pine tree. Azrael charged.

The goblin's eyes widened and he reached into a pouch on his belt, took out a wishbone, and snapped it. The goblin disappeared into thin air barely a moment before Azrael's sword fell on the spot where he was.

Azrael sighed. The goblin got away. How was that fair? He picked up his pack of items and rations and checked them again. He considered himself fortunate that the goblin didn't teleport away with his belongings, but still, there weren't too many people out here in the wild and-- he froze as he turned around and saw the ostrich also frozen mid-step.

"Huh." Azrael marveled. The ostrich set its foot down, cocking its head at him with uncertainty. "Your rider seriously left you here. High and dry." The bird scratched at the ground, nervously. "Well, go on, then, shoo." Azrael said, walking north, giving the bird a wide berth. "I have no use for you." And the bird walked off, giving a couple backwards glances at the strange elavis.

***

Azrael knew he was getting close. The pine forest was a large indication, as was the cold. The sparse wagons and sanpinsani caravans he came across informed him of such, as well. He thought about the sanpinsani for a minute. He hadn't seen any since the waystation outside of Almaz. Good people, the sanpinsani were; always friendly, always trying to be fair. It came as a surprise when a wagon of elves warned him about the caravan that was a couple miles behind them, though he found out that the elves were even more surprised that Azrael had no problem with the sanpinsani. Every snake-person shopkeeper he had ever met were generous and happy to chat, which was more than what could be said for the elves.

That brought another thought to mind. He missed Eden. It caught him off-guard just how much he thought of his friend while talking to the elves. They weren't anywhere near as colorful as Eden had been, but their ears, the angle of their faces, and they way they seemed to glide while they walked--well, maybe not that, because Eden was pretty clumsy, and she tended to bounce around instead of glide--but their general features brought to mind his friend, and despite their pomp, he was grateful for their company.

According to them, though--and the sanpinsani that he came across later--the main headquarters for The Earth-Clad Shovel was not terribly far north, and all he had to do was stay the path through the forest. He had asked the sanpinsani how much forest there was and was told that there was more forest than not, except where there were mountains, and the towns and cities to the north simply cut themselves a clearing wherever they needed to settle, which usually was by a stream or near a mountain which supplied streams and resources.

Not long after the goblin attack, Azrael was accosted by another creature as he walked the trail north. He heard the wind rustle through the pine needles, and what sounded like an annoyed sigh.

"Another day, another mortal. You all tramp through my forest like you own the place. You're alone, though, and unprotected." came a voice with the wind. Azrael grinned. Good. he would be able to submit a body to Draeg, today, after all.

Roots erupted from the ground and restrained Azrael, pulling him to his knees. He checked his dirt-covered restraints as his attacker approached him; his wrists and ankles had been grabbed, but the rest of him was fine, plus his sword was attached to his back. Dandy.

The dryad stood in front of him, a thing of wood and pine needles. The way the needles were arranged gave her an almost feathered appearance, but the bark she was armored with diminished that look, somewhat. Jagged pieces of wood served as teeth and claws. Azrael observed all this as he absorbed the sword back into his bones. The dryad seemed to scowl at him.

"Do you think sheathing your weapon will cause me to have mercy on you? Your kind deserves no mercy, you choppers of wood, you who fell trees and make homes of their corpses; their mass graves serve as your towns!" There was a small shink as serrated bone blades sprouted from Azrael's wrists, cutting them free and another shink as he freed his ankles with those blades in the same motion. He raised his left hand and fired a bolt of bone at the dryad while he said,

"Another day, another monster." mocking the dryad's earlier statement. She cried in outrage, stepping into a nearby tree as if it was a doorway. Azrael paused. He hadn't expected that. He eyed the trees around him, retracting the bone blades from his wrists and re-manifesting his spinesword.

"You are in a forest, you fool, where I am a person and you are an invasive pest. You will die as such." came the condescending voice from an unidentifiable location.

"Not if I go make a town out of a mass tree grave!" Azrael taunted. Admittedly, it wasn't the best thing he could think of, but it was the first and he wasn't about to let any time go to waste. An enraged cry came from his left as the dryad exited another tree and came at him, claws first. He swung his sword at her and she caught it with one hand. He realized he may have misjudged her strength. The other claw came at him and he ducked, narrowly avoiding having his face removed. Azrael grabbed onto her side, where the bark was the thinnest and let loose a bolt of bone, which buried itself in the dryad. She screamed in pain and fury, letting go of his sword and disappeared into another pine tree.

It was time to finish this. He backed up to a tree, stopping about two feet in front of it.

"If I can make a home out of a tree's corpse, I wonder if I can make one out of yours?" he called. Hopefully the dryad was dumb enough to take the bait. There was a screech behind him and he knew that she was. He willed his spine to sharpen into two-foot spikes, impaling the dryad just as she laid her claws on his shoulder, cutting him just a bit. Her shrieks cut short, but just to be safe, he withdrew his spine and spun around, beheading her before she could fall.

After Azrael performed the ritual and submitted the body, he continued on the road, still a bit surprised that Draeg had accepted a wooden body. The ritual was a bit slow to accept the body this time, so no doubt Draeg would change the wording of his future contracts to specify flesh-based bodies.

Something surprised Azrael: the more he did this, the more fun he had with it. Maybe it was the fact that he had something to work towards, or maybe it was that he wasn't working in one place, doing the same routine anymore; whatever it was, it was nice. Every battle he survived left him feeling... empowered. The first time was when he fought and killed a dire wolf. Wounded and exhausted as he was afterwards, the idea that he was given earlier that same day, the idea that his situation was surmountable, was cemented as the dire wolf lay bleeding on the ground.

After a couple hours more, Azrael came to a building made from rough-hewn logs and earth. There was a large set of stables connected to the building with various wagons being staged, loaded, and unloaded. A sign attached to a stake hammered into the ground read, "The Earth-Clad Shovel, Independent Security Company, Established 6,778 STF". This was the place.

Azrael withdrew his spinesword back into his spine and approached the building. The workers staging the wagons and prepping the horses eyed Azrael with mild suspicion but didn't slow their work while they did so. The steps leading to the front door of the building creaked as he walked, and he opened the door, finding himself in a lobby of similar decoration as the exterior of the building. The furniture here was notably squat, which was confusing to Azrael until he spotted the attendant behind the equally squat reception desk; the attendant was a dwarf. This was a dward-run establishment. He probably should have guessed by the name, but names can be deceiving. But, knowing that this was a dwarf establishment helped him mentally prepare for the potential difficulty that lay ahead: dwarves were notoriously unimpressed with taller folk.

"Welcome to the Earth-Clad Shovel headquarters." The dwarf cried, surprisingly cheerily. "Are you here as a customer, employee, or potential employee?"

"Potential employee." Azrael stated succinctly.

"Great! First things first, though: can you read?"

"Yes, I can."

"Wonderful." The attendant handed Azrael a slab of wood with a sheet of paper and a stick of charcoal on it. "Fill this out as best you can while I notify the boss." Azrael nodded, then as an afterthought, smiled at the dwarf before taking the slab. Smiling, he reminded himself, smiling is good. The dwarf bid Azrael to sit in one of the squat seats in the lobby and disappeared for a minute, then returned and said,

"Mr. Fracture will come up to see you shortly. When you finish with the questionnaire, keep a hold on it, because Mr. Fracture will want to see it." Azrael looked up, smiled and nodded, before returning to the slab.

"Would you like some tea while you wait, sir?" the dwarf asked. Azrael looked up and shook his head, his smile a little smaller, before returning to the sheet.

"Would you like anything to eat, sir?" The elavis looked up without the smile, this time and shook his head. The attendant seemed to get the point, as he returned to his desk and sat in silence. Azrael finished up the short questionnaire and waited patiently for this Mr. Fracture to show up. After about twenty more minutes, An old, white-bearded dwarf walked into the lobby from the door behind the counter.

"Hail, young one." the dwarf said in a phlegm-choked voice. "My name's Fracture."

"Mine is Azrael." the elavis replied politely.

"Follow me to my office, if you would, Mr. Azrael." the dwarf said, turning on the spot. Azrael did so, passing the counter and walking through the door, and then turning left to walk downstairs.

The whole downstairs area was a dirt-walled cellar with a desk and storage cabinets on the left side, and a relatively open space off to the right. The old dwarf gestured to a seat in front of the desk while he took a seat on the opposite side of the desk.

"So," the dwarf started while looking through the questionnaire, "you're looking for a job. Tell me, why come all the way out here? Typically potential employees send us letters and we schedule an interview in a city we have contacts in; it's... not a rare thing for someone to come to us, but it is uncommon."

"I'm moving north. It'd be convenient to be employed near where I'm wanting to live." Azrael replied. "This was on the way."

"Whereabouts? 'North' is a very general term."

"The Griffin's Pinnacle region."

The dwarf whistled. "That is far north. Seems to be a popular destination, today. Most people get assigned that far north--they don't ask to go that far north." Azrael raised an eyebrow at him. The dwarf coughed. "I mean, it's not uninhabitable--we have very lucrative contracts up there--and it's not the pole, but it is the frontier and is miserably cold through most of the year. So I ask again, what's bringing you that far north?"

"I'm from Almaz." Azrael said, coolly. The dwarf's expression changed from one of curiosity to one of pity.

"Ah, I heard it was gone. Did you see anything of the city after it was destroyed?"

"It's just a crater, now, sir. And, as it so happens, my trade and home is now ash. I'm looking to get far away from it." The dwarf nodded understandingly."

"Well, from a practical point of view, let me ask: what was your previous trade?"

"Minor carpentry, Whittling religious figurines from wood."

"Lad, I don't think that would translate well to guarding caravans from bandits, animals, or monsters."

"I fared well enough travelling here by myself on the way up."

"...You didn't travel with a group?"

"No, sir, I walked by myself and defended myself along the way."

"...You're a caster, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir, I am."

"That explains why you don't have any meat on your bones. Blessed magic, inherent magic or learned magic?"

"...Inherent."

"Good, less of your spare coin to be spent on needless inks and books. What kind of spells are your specialty?"

"Mid to close range offensive spells and body-enhancement spells so far."

"Fantastic. You'll earn point-oh-two percent of a caravan's worth or fifty ounces a one-way trip, whichever's more--and we offer the fifty ounces because sometimes you'll be escorting empty carts."

"Um, sir?" Azrael ventured.

"Yes, what is it, boy?"

"You aren't going to ask me to show any of my magic?"

"Nonsense! Where you're going? You'll be out in the thick of it! If your abilities aren't up to snuff, you'll die and not get paid, and if you're a coward, word will get back to me, and you won't be offered any more escorts. Now, onto that topic, we'll get you transported to our station in Griffon's Pinnacle, where the roster will be updated once a week. You, in collaboration with the party you are assigned to will choose what escorts you want to take, although depending on where you are stationed, there might be limited options. Nevertheless, the Company will ensure you have at least one option to choose from a week so you are never without work. Any supplies you may need can be bought on your own; buying from the caravan you are guarding is fine, but you are limited by their rules, so if they say you can only buy a certain amount of one thing or another, you mustn't complain, as it looks bad on the Company. Do you understand?" Azrael nodded. "Good, now hold tight while I draw up a contract." The dwarf reached under the desk and pulled out some parchment, an inkpot, and a quill. Azrael was flooded with a sense of irony at a contract being drawn up for him. This was the way those not born into money lived, however: drowning in contracts that take their time and therefore lives from them--at least Azrael was using a voluntary contract to help him fulfill a more difficult one. Still, though. Another contract this soon after signing one that changed his life settled a strange weight upon the young elavis. He would have to be sure not to sign any more contracts.

"So, Azrael, did you try some of Phillip's tea in the lobby? He gets so bored during the day, that I'm sure he was thrilled to have someone to converse with while you waited for me." Azrael coughed softly.

"I was a bit occupied with the questionnaire, sir."

"Oh? Pity. Maybe another time, then. Here, please sign at the bottom." After Azrael did so, Fracture said, "Let's go out to the stables and we'll get you on the next trip north."

***

Before long, Azrael sat, traveling north in a covered wagon with four other people: a red-bearded human male with a club, a drunk orkkin, the most muscular looking minotaur he had ever seen, and another silver-eyed elavis; following the wagon--mainly because she wouldn't fit--was an armed centaur, making a fifth other co-worker. It was an odd crew, but they had all signed up to be stationed in Griffin's Pinnacle. At least the trip wouldn't be dull.

The other elavis was staring at Azrael and she hadn't taken her eyes off of him since he had clamored in the wagon, which was only ten minutes, but still it was a little unnerving. Azrael wasn't even sure she had blinked in that time. He glanced at the other people in the wagon with him: the minotaur was... asleep? His eyes were open, but Azrael was pretty sure he was snoring. The orkkin was looking a little bleary-eyed, but the human was frowning at the other elavis as if he had noticed that she was staring. Azrael turned back to look at the other elavis.

"You have pretty eyes." the other elavis said, cocking her head creepily.

"Shouldn't you be familiar with them?" Azrael asked, trying not to sound unnerved. "Or are you a new silver?"

"A new silver?" The other elavis asked, sounding confused. "Yes, yes I think I am. I think I'll keep the eyes for a while." Azrael frowned. That was odd. "Tell me, pretty-eyed thing: the coins are ringing; can you hear them?"

A shiver went down Azrael's spine. "What are you talking about?"

"Zorah!" the centaur called. "What did we talk about?"

Zorah rolled her eyes. "Are you going to let me have any fun, Zinc?"

The centaur put her hands on the top of the horse part of her body as if she was putting her hands on her hips. "What did we talk about?"

Zorah threw her hands up dramatically. "Fine! I'll creep everyone out after we get to know each other."

Maybe it would have been better, Azrael decided, if the trip was dull.