Fortress Al-Mir

Cliff was unlike anything Arkk had ever seen before.

Arkk wasn’t sure if he was vibrating in excitement or shaking from nerves. He was finally out of Langleey Village, traveling and seeing the world. Technically, he had been traveling for a week now, but some of the luster of travel had worn off once he realized that most villages weren’t meaningfully different from his village and most burgs were just larger villages.

Unlike the places they had traveled through to reach here, this was a city.

It was a bit annoying to get to. There was a big… well, mountainous cliff in the way. A large heap of earth and rock propped up into a thin mountain. Following the winding road around the mountain, past truly massive swaths of farmland, brought him to the city itself. Houses and buildings were crammed next to each other in tight rows. They sprawled back and forth, filling every available spot between the ocean and the mountain itself.

But the city itself didn’t look that impressive until one looked out to the ocean. A wide stone bridge over the water connected the city to another mountain, one that jutted right out of the waves. It wasn’t quite as high as the one on proper land, but it was what was on it that mattered.

There were a number of grandiose buildings built into the sides of the mountain, but at a certain point near the top, the entire mountain leveled off, supported by tall brick walls and natural cliff faces. Atop the plateau was the largest church Arkk had ever seen, stretching almost as tall as the mainland mountain. Arkk thought this might have been the first temple that he ever saw. There had been large churches in a few of the burgs on the way here, but this was on another level entirely.

Vezta would have hated it. Its white walls were adorned by golden symbols that seemed to glow, though that might have been a trick of the high sun.

Arkk didn’t see any storehouses and rotting food sitting out as he had heard, but this was just before harvest. Taxes wouldn’t have been collected yet.

There wasn’t much of a wall around the city. There was one, but it just ended at the mountain. The natural terrain was enough of a deterrent to any attacking forces. Two massive ballista-like devices sat atop towers on either side of the gate, ready to decimate any siege equipment that made it this far. Though, Arkk wasn’t sure if there had ever been an attack on the city before. Also unlike other burgs Arkk had visited on the way here, the guards around the large gate were stopping each cart.

Arkk was getting a little nervous as they approached. Why were the guards stopping carts? Had it been a mistake to bring Dakka? Would they reject her? What about Ilya? The elf had her ears tucked into a small hat again, hoping to disguise what she was from the Duke’s prying eyes, but if the guards ran up to her and started examining her, what were they to do? Fortress Al-Mir was well beyond reach at this point. He could still see it and move things around within his territory, but he had no territory anywhere nearby.

When Arkk finally brought their cart to a stop next to a pair of pike-wielding soldiers in blue and white striped tabards, he had worked himself into a nervous tension. One pikeless guard, along with a younger boy who held a note tablet and pen, stopped at the side of their cart. He barely looked up at Arkk.

“Local?”

“What?”

The guard threw a flat look at Arkk. “Are you from around here?”

“Oh. No.”

“Name, origin, profession if relevant, and purpose for visit,” the guard said in an utter monotone.

Clearing his throat to buy a moment for his bewilderment to die down, Arkk answered honestly. Mostly. “Arkk. I’m from Smilesville. Here to purchase a few books, if possible, and maybe have a look at mercenary work.”

The guard changed his demeanor with the mention of mercenary work, now looking over them with a bit more of a critical eye. He started with Arkk, looking him up and down, before turning his attention to Ilya and finally Dakka. When he turned back to Arkk, he let out a small breath through his nose. “Right,” he said, a slight laugh in his tone.

Arkk pressed his lips together, unsure of what the guard found funny, but decided not to comment. The guard wasn’t calling for Dakka’s head. It wouldn’t be a good idea to press their luck.

“Are you or any of your companions wanted in any of the four great states?” the guard asked, tone bored once more. Arkk shook his head, still not sure about Dakka but not willing to say yes to this guard no matter what. In response, the guard moved on with what had to be a script that he read dozens of times a day. “Are you transporting any magical artifacts, cursed items, enchanted items, or holy items?”

Again, Arkk shook his head. “No, Sir. Just what you see here. We’ve got some food and camping supplies, but nothing else.”

Arkk wasn’t even sure if the guard heard him, because he just continued with another question. “Are you transporting any alchemical solutions, magic reagents, or blighted fungus?”

“No.”

“Are you or any of your companions practicing necromancy?”

Arkk shifted, hesitating a moment before quickly shaking his head. “No.”

“Are you or any of your companions currently infected with blighted fungus?”

Arkk glanced to Ilya, who gave him a blank look, then back to Dakka. The orc offered a shrug and a shake of her head. “I… don’t think so. No.” Arkk honestly had no idea what that was. It sounded bad. If they were asking about it, it probably was bad.

The guard looked up again, rolled his eyes, and started waving his hand as he stepped back. “Whatever, you’re probably fine.”

“Oh.” Arkk blinked twice, surprised. Was blighted fungus not something to worry about then? “So, we can go in?”

“Don’t cause trouble.”

“No, Sir.” Arkk started to grab the reins, only to pause and look back to the guard. “I don’t suppose you know where we might be able to get lodging and food for a few nights?”

Arkk did not miss the way the guard’s eyes flicked to Dakka before answering. “The only place I would try if I were you is Primrose.” He looked into the city, beyond the large gate, and pointed with his entire arm. “Down the street, take a left turn at the large brown building toward the end. From there, continue forward until you reach the waterfront. Follow the waterfront past the harbor and you’ll eventually see Primrose down a street on the right. It has a yellow and black sign.”

“Right. Thanks.”

As they followed the guard’s directions, Arkk couldn’t help but think that the people who passed through Langleey Village were wrong. Almost every one of them mentioned the fresh salt-sea air as being something wonderful about Cliff—or any oceanside town. But now that he was tasting it for himself, Arkk did not agree. It wasn’t crisp like the air after a long rainstorm. It was… soggy. The air hung in his nose. If he were being honest, it made him feel a bit nauseous.

He definitely would not be bragging about the ocean breeze anytime soon.

The next big shock were ships. As big as the Baron’s manor with massive spires of wood sticking out of them. He had heard about them from visitors, but seeing one in person? He could hardly believe they floated, let alone moved. He had seen shallow-bottomed riverboats before, so he tried not to be too surprised. It wasn’t a very good try, however. These ships were in an entirely different class.

Continuing along, the wonder of the city started to die off as he realized that the route the guard had provided was taking them into progressively less well-maintained sections of the town. Buildings weren’t quite as intact as they had been elsewhere. Rotted wood that didn’t fit together in snug seams, possibly rotten from that unpleasant salty air, made up most of the buildings out here.

Perhaps he should have noticed earlier, but entering this section of the city just made it all the more apparent that demihumans and beastmen weren’t exactly welcome around Cliff. From the gates up until about halfway through the harbor, Cliff had been dominated by humans. The guards hadn’t barred Dakka from entering and the occasional demihumans were wandering around. Here, however, was the opposite. The occasional human was interspaced by elves, dark elves, and orcs for the most part. Arkk did spot a gremlin smoking a pipe while leaning against a wall, a pair of fairies flying overhead on their thin wings, and even what he was pretty sure was a sphinx lounging outside one building.

Neither of his companions spoke, but Arkk could feel the dour mood that had settled in as they continued through the city.

Arkk almost missed the turn for Primrose. It wasn’t even that he was distracted looking at demihumans he had heard about but had never seen before. There was a signboard but the colors on it were so faded that he would have been better instructed to look for a gray and slightly lighter gray signboard where the remnants of paint were maybe in the shape of a primrose flower.

A small stable next to the Primrose building handled the cart and horse for a small fee. He had long since broken down a few gold coins into a pouch of silver on their journey, which was by far preferable. Paying in gold was sure to draw attention and it was kind of a waste; when faced with a gold coin, a lot of merchants didn’t have enough silver on hand to cover the difference… or they didn’t want to cover the entire difference because then they wouldn’t have any silver themselves. Arkk had ended up overpaying for a lot of goods unintentionally but was unable to do anything… and then there were the merchants who, upon seeing a gold coin, suddenly had price increases on all their wares.

Primrose was a stayover cabin, although a bit larger than the three they had stayed in on the journey. Most larger burgs had them. It was a strange concept, a building dedicated to people traveling. Smaller villages, including Langleey, housed visitors in the local church or individual homes if there was a spare room.

The entire ground floor was dominated by the smell of roasting meat. Several people, mostly demihumans with the occasional beastman or human thrown between, occupied a number of tables. The kitchens were over on one side, but Arkk spotted a woman behind a rounded counter that looked like the right place to start.

The proprietor of Primrose was an elderly little human. Her hair was almost as silver as Ilya’s, though from old age rather than a natural coloration. She leaned forward when Arkk approached, holding a hand to her ear.

“Do you have any rooms available?” Arkk asked, raising his voice.

The old woman slowly ran her eyes over the group. Once finished, she opened a small drawer at the counter she sat behind and pulled out an old iron key in a shaking hand. “Two silvers a night,” she said.

Arkk raised his eyebrows but didn’t argue. That was less than half the price the stayovers in the burgs had charged. “Not sure how long we’ll be staying,” Arkk said, handing over three nights’ worth of payment. “If we stay longer, is that a problem?”

“Only if you don’t pay, dearie,” she said, sweeping the coins into another drawer.

“Good. Good. I don’t suppose you would know the best place to acquire books on magic and books—or just someone to talk to—about history?”

“I don’t know much about history, but the magical academy built into the mountainside is where all the spellcasters study.”

Hopefully one of the spellcasters there would have more information on purchases. He wasn’t all that interested in sticking around, learning magic at the academy in the long term. He wanted books he could take back home. Scholars seemed like a good place to start with history as well. He wasn’t sure that they would find anything on Fortress Al-Mir or Vezta’s former master, but anything they did find might be useful.

“How about somewhere we might inquire about mercenary work?”

Somewhere behind him, Arkk heard a distinctive snort. He half-turned but didn’t see who it might have been. Ilya leaned close, whispering in his ear, “Does everyone think we can’t handle ourselves? If they saw what we did at the barrows…”

Arkk just shrugged his shoulders as the old woman began talking again. “You’ll want to stop by the garrison,” she said, then looked over Arkk’s shoulder. “But they won’t enjoy the presence of your companions.”

Lips pressed together, Arkk nodded. “And… is there any method to go about getting a meeting with the Duke?”

The old woman stared. Her mouth flapped a few times, but no words came out. She just stared.

It wasn’t just her. There was a small ripple effect through the room where casual conversations died off into hushed whispers. Even those were quickly silenced. Arkk wondered just how many people had been listening in on his questions.

“Did you hear that boys?” someone eventually shouted. “They want a meeting with the Duke!”

That was the signal for the entire room to descend into a fit of cruel laughter. It didn’t last long and regular conversation sprung up again. The few words Arkk caught of it now centered around their group and what they could possibly want from the Duke. Or what they could be thinking. Ilya’s face darkened as the conversations continued, making him wonder what her sharp ears picked up.

“Well, thanks for the room and information,” Arkk said with a polite smile to the old woman.

“Upstairs, down the long hallway, third door on the left,” she said, leaning back. “Don’t make trouble.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that today,” Arkk mumbled, shooting a glance at Ilya.

The room wasn’t bad. It was as worn down as the rest of the building, but the bed looked decent enough. There was only one bed, but no one present was bothered by that. They slept in the back of the cart on a few of the nights when they hadn’t made it to any villages or burgs.

“What were they laughing at?” Ilya hissed as she tossed her rucksack on the floor.

“Maybe if we were dressed in our nice clothes rather than our travel clothes,” Arkk said with a small shrug. He had known that just walking up and meeting the Duke wasn’t going to be as simple as it sounded. They would have to figure something out. For now… “How secure do you think this room is?” he asked, looking at the handle on the door.

“I could break the walls down with my shoulder,” Dakka said, knocking her knuckles on the wood. “Doubt it would be that hard.”

“Yes, but how likely is that?”

“If they—” Dakka paused, stepped away from the wall, and dropped her voice to a near whisper. “If they see how much you’re carrying around? Guaranteed.”

“Is it really that much? I only took a small—”

“A single gold coin is a life-changing amount to most of the people living here,” Dakka interrupted. Arkk clamped his jaw shut but was fairly happy to be interrupted by the orc. He would much rather have her speak her mind than be stiff and unresponsive. “I’ve never been here, never spoken with anyone who lived here, but you can just tell by looking around the place.”

Arkk nodded slowly. He had noticed on the way in but hadn’t thought about it in terms of coins. A part of him wondered why the people here stayed here. Everything was so run down. Shunted away into the ass-end of the city as they were, the demihumans were not welcome in the rest of the city. He had only spoken with two people so far and both had insinuating comments to make about Dakka at the very least.

They all had two legs—or wings in the case of those fairies—why stick around? Langleey had been happy to have the help of a bunch of orcs that had attacked only a few weeks prior. Surely other villages nearby would be the same. If they put in a bit of work in helping out the farms, they would surely be more welcome out there than inside the city.

“Well,” he said, approaching the window. There was no glass. Two heavy wooden shutters swung outward, allowing light and fresh air in. His nose wrinkled as soon as he realized that fresh air meant ocean air, but he looked out nonetheless. The tall church in the distance gleamed in the sunlight over the tops of nearby buildings. “We’ve got some starting places,” he said. “The magic academy and the garrison.”

Aside from the church, the view out the window wasn’t that good. Just rooftops for a street or two before taller buildings blocked the rest of the city. He couldn’t even see the water of the ocean.

“The latter of which isn’t a good place for us,” Ilya said with a frown. “And the former… I have no idea what I’d even be looking for in a magic library.”

Dakka grunted in agreement. “You want to know more about…” she hesitated, glancing at Ilya for a moment. “About an elf consort of the Duke’s?”

Ilya pressed her lips together, shooting a mild glare at Dakka. The phrasing could have been better, but it wasn’t exactly inaccurate. “My mother. Alya,” Ilya eventually said. “I don’t know exactly what the Duke wanted with her, but… She would have appeared here roughly fifteen years ago.”

“Sounds like a job I can do,” Dakka said, motioning toward the door. “Kick around these parts, find the places where people ask questions, and see about learning why everyone laughed at our meeting with the Duke. If I read the atmosphere right, they’ll be more willing to talk to me than a human and an elf hiding her ears.”

“Will you be alright on your own?” Arkk asked.

Dakka snorted. Or scoffed. Both? “I’d be more worried about you two.”

“I can take care of myself,” Ilya said with a note of irritation in her tone.

“I’m going to try the garrison first,” Arkk said. “Tomorrow morning. Then I’ll head over and see if I can’t find anything at the academy. Ilya, do you want to go with—”

“I want to explore.”

“Explore?”

“Just… run through the city for a day. See it with my own eyes.”

“Alright,” Arkk said after a moment. “I don’t have to tell you to be careful.”

Ilya nodded, adjusting her hat.

“Well, I don’t know about the two of you, but whatever they were roasting downstairs smelled like the best thing I haven’t eaten. I’m going to go correct that. Join me?” Arkk asked, glancing between the two of them.

Having had nothing but travel provisions for the last day and a half, since they left one of the burgs, the two of them readily agreed.