Poisonous Fox

Kate led the charge towards the Caravaneer’s Guild, dragging an increasingly pale faced Gregory in her wake. She tried her best to avoid distractions, but there was a lot going on in the square, more an open mall with all sorts of strange one-offs imported from far and wide. Exotics.

There were even stalls selling weapons!

They passed a table, a well guarded table, selling actual living stones. These rocks and gems glowed and warped space around them in rhythmic patterns, akin to a heartbeat. They could be used for high end alchemist, or sacred arts. Of course they had to be ground up first. But still, whole living stones!

Another table sold rarer slabs of junglewood, ranging from ebony all the way to leaden wood. Some of the slabs could be carved into effective swords, though those tended to pair better with a different archetype of sacred art than Kate was going for, so she hardly paid that stall any attention.

“K-kate?” Gregory tried distracting her. Not going to work. For she had found the holy grail of the market. An arms dealer selling exotic weapons.

An entire stall devoted to unusual artificer weapons. A kami that could slice through stone, a variable sword that warped and changed depending on which of the three wounds it was used for–the merchant was giving a demonstration of that one. A thrust that lengthened, a parry that shortened to slip past a guard. Effective half-sword techniques. Kate wanted it. She was practically drooling.

But as she watched the display, Gregory tugged on her arm, irritating her by pulling her attention away from what mattered.

“I-if we’re going to shop,” Gregory started, “can we at least stop by an alchemist? A quick potion? This wound is really starting to hurt.”

“Huh.” Kate, now realizing she was never going to reach the Caraveener’s Guild Hall to sign up on a caravan heading north, at least not at the rate she was currently traveling, felt another stroke of impatience.

“Kate?” Gregory asked, twisting around so that his wan face was directly in front and below Kate’s.

“We don’t have time for that,” Kate said. Reluctantly, she pulled away from the arms dealer.

The merchant, seeing Kate leaving, shouted after them, “won’t be here much longer! Hurry back while we got the goods!”

Kate felt pain at leaving it, but Gregory was right, they were running short on time, and really did need to get moving.

“Maybe later,” Kate called back over her shoulder, longing in her voice.

“I don’t know if I can keep up,” Gregory whined as Kate pulled them closer to their destination.

But a crowd was forming between them and the entrance, a crowd in an almost plaza, where stalls had been built to encircle a space, routing everyone through the area. At the far end, butted up against heavy wagons with tall enclosures, a stage had been set up. A man on a narrow stage, almost a platform of stairs barely wide enough for three to stand upon, a man dressed in finery with a top hat, he was waving at the crowd, calling to them about something that was about to begin.

“What in the world…” Kate wondered.

“No,” Gregory groaned. “I think I’m dying.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Kate said. She had had worse injuries than that little hole in his thigh. It was barely an inch deep, if that. But still, he was hardly blessed with a hardy constitution.

The man was repeating an advertisement of some sort, letting everyone know that a show was about to start. Kate only half heartedly pushed through the mob. There were all sorts of people, including parents with small children perched on their shoulders. If Kate knocked them down on her way through, her mom would find out about it for sure. That was the kind of thing people cared about.

“Come one and gather ‘round folks!” the man called out. “Gather ‘round! You’ll not want to miss these bargains! A once in a month event! Merchandise and wares, straight from the distant Mulands, straight from the depths of the Kaiva Jungle; exotic specimens never before purchased, virgin and hale constitutions! The opportunity to start fresh, and not muddle through someone else’s poor training! A once in a lifetime chance to housebreak your very own! Step right up good sir, good ma’am! Bring your children in close to see the wild and pure specimens, brought straight for your pleasure! No need to bid nor buy, though of course that is what we want! A chance to see something new, without leaving the fair confines of this glorious city! What say you, Southbridge? Step on up, gather around–”

And on he went, rather repetitively. But it worked.

Kate found herself drawn to the crowd, ensorcelled by the auctioneer’s repetitive calls.

“Godslicking dungeaters,” Gregory swore. “This is one of those auctions?” he spat.

“One of what?” Kate asked with half an ear. Thankfully, due to her size, she could see over most of the crowd, except for the little girl in front of her, but Kate merely had to step to the side to regain her view.

“Kunny auction,” he snarled.

“Huh.” Kate vaguely recalled something happening to Gregory’s mother involving a revolt in the market district. It might not have been a full revolt, but just a pet off its leash. If it had been a full revolt, then Kate would have had definitely remembered.

“Don’t huh me!” Gregory snapped. “If you’re going to stick around for this trash then I’m leaving. I should have left to find a doctor already. Some friend you are.”

“But…” Kate paused, wondering if she did in fact need Gregory to help land work as a guard along with a compliment of knights. Considering that she might not have exactly known what she was doing, and she might have failed to pay attention when her aunt and mother were explaining the details of the deal… yeah. She needed him.

“Starting us off! A round ear Kunny, from a tribe of mighty warriors! This is the opportunity of a lifetime folks! Buy your very own untamed and frightening prize-fighter! Think of it as an investment! Its winnings are sure to pay itself off! Starting off at three hundred C! Do we have–”

A kunwayl was led onto stage. It was a male beastkin with feline features, but rounded ears. spotted fur covered it, a yellow base with gray spots. Scars marred its coat, stretching across its ribs and stomach, where three of its nipples were missing.

The auctioneer tapped a cane against the kunwayl’s pectorals, exclaiming the warrior’s prowess.

But if the kunwayl had been a good warrior, then how had it been captured? It growled at the auctioneer, showing its fighting spirit was at least intact. If not for the sealing collar around its neck, there could have been an incident.

With the beast being collared, its growl might have been all bark and no bite. Kate kind of wanted to discover which it was. Preferably with a sword in hand and in the ring.

“And look at those claws!” The auctioneer pulled its paws up to face the crowd. At first, nothing happened, but the auctioneer jammed the pommel of his cane into the padding between the kunwayl’s fingers, leading to the claws to spasm outward involuntarily.

Several people oohed and awed, but Kate was not impressed. Sure, it had claws. So what. She had a sword. Big deal.

Kate felt someone push her shoulder. She scowled and turned to confront whoever it was, but she saw Gregory heading away from her, pushing into the shallower parts of the crowd, in a direction that was definitely not towards the guild hall.

“Hey!” Kate called after him, hurrying to catch up. “What gives?”

“I already told you!” he said. “Wounded–” he pointed at his leg. “I’m going to get it fixed. We can do all this another day, when you actually feel like getting it done.”

There were gasps and clapping from behind her, the kunwayl must have done something interesting, but Kate paid it no mind. She had just confirmed that she actually did need Gregory’s expertise to get through whatever discussion was required to sign up on a caravan. He was not allowed to leave! And he wanted to leave because of that tiny little wound?

She gave him a closer inspection. His face was pale, and some sweat beaded on his brow, despite the cooler climate.

“You know,” she said, speaking slowly. “You don’t look too good… you should have said something earlier.”

Gregory gave a small kitten growl of exasperation. “I’ve been saying that! Know what? I’m done. Done!” He continued leaving.

“Hold!” Kate shouted at him, clamping a heavy palm down on his shoulder.

“Let me go,” Gregory hissed.

“Just let me think a second!” she said, ignoring his request as she weighed her options.

She did have something that could help, but if she used it, she would have to fill out a requisition form from the garrison. But would filling out that form be faster than whatever time she would lose having to negotiate the contract on her own? She doubted it would be a straight comparison of time, but she had a feeling that the form was the cheaper of the options.

“Fine,” she said, reaching into a satchel and procuring a stoppered glass tube full of a honeyed solution. “Here.”

“You had a health potion the entire time?!” Gregory said, looking somewhat scandalized and irritated at the same time.

“Yeah,” she grunted. “And you owe me for it too! You gonna drink it or what.”

“I’ll drink it,” he groused, breaking the seal with his thumb and popping off the top. He tossed it back and grimaced as he swallowed. “Blegh. Why’s it taste so bad?”

“Might be old,” she said, shrugging. The garrison did tend to keep supplies well past their expiration.

“Will it work?” he asked, now looking a bit more concerned as he eyed the empty vial.

“You tell me,” she scoffed.

Gregory seemed to wait a moment, feeling at his wound. “Not completely better,” he said. “But it took the edge off at least.”

“Good enough to keep going?” Kate asked. It had better be, that had been her only one.

He wobbled his head on his skinny little neck before he finally gave a nod.

“Good,” she said. She gave him a careful once over. His face had some color to it now. “Let’s go.”

She set out, leading the way. They had to backtrack a bit to avoid the crowds and plaza, though Kate did peak through at several points as they went around.

A different beast was now on full display. This one might have been a female, but Kate never took the time to look, especially with how strongly Gregory felt towards them. The stress of thinking about another kunwayl might push him over the edge the wrong way. He was puny enough that it might.

Minutes later, they reached the entrance to the Caravaneer’s Guild Hall, or so they had thought. Having never been to the hall before, they were taken in by surprise as they stepped past the broad gates and into an extensively landscaped courtyard, filled with fragrant plants that had no business growing in the Middens.

Kate halted as the strange smells and sights confronted her. Gregory stepped up beside her and froze as well once he saw the gardens with a maze of paths winding through them.

“Why a maze?” Kate wondered, thinking how impractical the whole affair was. Attackers could trample the greenery to get where they wanted, while everyone else had to take circuitous routes. And there were quite a few people traveling those paths, though they all seemed to know where they were going.

“Woah,” Gregory said. “That’s a lot of–”

Whatever he was going to say was cut short by a gruff voice from behind.

“If you’re gonna gawk, then do it to the side!”

Kate glanced to see whoever it was that was brushing around and past Gregory, and she smartly stepped further off the path and towards a bench that had been conveniently set up at the start, beneath a tree with yellow leaves and red flowers. But she paid the tree less attention than she did to the speaker. It was a man that looked like he knew how to fight. That could get interesting.

He must have been a soldier of some sort; he wore a dusty jerkin armor, a crossbow, and a sword and board. But he lacked a tabard, and he lacked the colors of allegiance. Kate realized, belatedly, that the man was likely a mercenary.

Gregory was a bit slow on the uptake, having turned to look at the mercenary as opposed to moving aside like he ought to have done.

As the mercenary went by, he swore. “Godspissing kids! Don’t just block the road!”

Kate watched the mercenary as he continued on his business.

“Seemed friendly enough,” she said.

Gregory laughed and shook it off. He instead went to inspect the tree that Kate had stepped under.

“It’s all artificed,” he said, admiration thick in his voice.

Which was strange, because when Kate looked, all she saw was brass tubing weaving through the ground. More interesting was the light pole nearby, the glow was bright yellow, almost white. Clearly some artists portrayal of the daystar. But who knew how accurate that was.

“How much did they spend on this?” Gregory asked, while continuing to bend low and inspect the tubing. “Just to keep this running the cost would be insane,” Gregory said.

Kate only paid half an ear to his babble and considered her next obstacle: figuring out where to go in order to sign up on a caravan heading north.

It should have been obvious, considering the number of people passing through. Kate scanned the pathways. There were three of them, heading each to a separate wing of a building. The most promising one was where the probable-mercenary had gone, where other roughshod and travelworm adventurers had gone. That was to the right, on the opposite side of the highway.

But that pathway did not appear welcoming and there was a stern man leaning against the wall while smoking a pungent cigarillo.

Kate was by no means afraid, but the people coming and going from that wing had definite business and appeared recognized by that man, at least judging from the head-nods and acknowledgements.

She was unsure which fork would even take her that way. Stupid mazes, she thought. She turned her attention to the other parth.

Someone turned down the left path.

He wore a long duster and a half-plate mask covering his right eye. At first, Kate thought the man might be a Halflight, but his clothes were largely practical, and he seemed a bit old considering the Halflights were mostly Kate’s age. He was wearing a bandolier with small glass vials, and he had stained skin in places that it showed.

An alchemist then. And likely one that had suffered a mishap, or that had a deviation, at least that would explain the mask. The man glanced at Gregory who was now on hands and knees and muttering about a ‘control panel.’

The alchemist scoffed.

Kate’s cheeks warmed, just a tad. Embarrassing.

However, the alchemist’s scorn lasted only a short while, for the last mercenary that had gone by had seen the alchemist while turning down a path that doublebacked. The mercenary scowled and marched through a shrub fence, leaving damaged twigs and bent plants in his wake. The mercenary got up to the alchemist and started shouting.

“Get your godspissing self on outta here!” the mercenary shouted at the alchemist.

Kate watched the encounter with interest. Fights with alchemists were always unpredictable. Almost as bad as fights with artificers. It came down to their preparations. Kate hoped they fought. It had been too long since she had been in a three-way brawl.

The alchemist responded in a snooty tone that made his upbringing obvious to all.

“It is hardly for you to decide if the guild does business with me,” the alchemist said, unaffected by the mercenary shouting and spraying him with spittle. “I am a paying customer afterall.”

“Heh, that right?” the mercenary chuckled darkly. “Well, none o’ me ‘r my mercs’ll ever travel with you again! I let the whole guild know! Yer toxic!”

“Inconvenient,” the alchemist said, wiping his jacket and face clean of the chunks that had flow out of the mercenary’s mouth. “And an overreaction on your part. You have no proof that it was–”

“-don’t need proof! It was yer godslovin cargo they wanted!”

“-again, no proof. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” the alchemist said, trying to walk past the mercenary. But as the alchemist went by, he was shoulder checked and he stumbled. Glass vials jingled. “Watch it you oaf!” the alchemist scolded, some heat finally entering his voice.

“Whaddya call me?” the mercenary said, even though oaf was likely the lightest of insults. It was more that the mercenary was looking for an excuse to fight. Kate recognized the attitude well enough.

The alchemist continued scolding the mercenary, seemingly ignorant of the potential fight brewing. “Your clumsiness could have unleashed a caustic vapor!”

“Huh?” the mercenary said, pausing, as it dawned on him just what it meant to unintentionally unleash some of the alchemist’s creations. If the alchemist had not been bluffing, that is.

“Yes, you heard me,” the alchemist said. “Be more careful. Cretin.”

“Hey now!” the mercenary said, drawing a short sword. “I think I’m owed an apology.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

At that time, a High Guard knight had been passing along, coming from one of the side paths. It was a woman that Kate failed to recognize, but she seemed to be stationed on tariff duty, which was the equivalent of a border guard. However, even if the knight had a desk job, that did not mean that she could simply ignore a potential violent dispute.

“Whatever this is,” the knight barked, approaching more carefully by stepping over bushes and plants. “Cut this out! Not the time, nor the place.”

“This is beyond your usual remit,” the alchemist pointed out. When the knight looked like they would protest, the alchemist hurried, “not that I have a problem with your intrusion! Indeed, I am grateful for it. This lowly merc has accosted me.”

“What did you call me?!” The mercenary snarled.

“For the love of the Crown,” the knight groaned. “I just got off shift and I need to deal with this?”

If the knight worked there, then she would know where Kate needed to go. Kate decided to interject herself into the little spat as she came up from the side.

“Hey!” Kate said, pushing past the alchemist. “Where do I go to sign on for a caravan north?”

“Excuse me?” the knight said hotly as she turned around. She must not have recognized Kate either.

“I thought you would know?” Kate added, unsure if the knight had just misheard, or if the knight was upset.

“And you thought it a better use of my time while I was in the midst of resolving a dispute?” the knight said.

Oh, so it was that type of situation. If Kate failed to recognize the knight, then the knight might have failed to recognize her. So Kate pulled the sigil out from where it hung around her neck. The sigil almost matched her mother’s exactly, and her mother’s sigil went on all of the High Guards official paperwork, including pay documents.

When the knight saw the sigil, the knight narrowed their eyes. “And you are?” the knight asked.

“Sir Kate,” Kate answered.

“Captain Guardson’s daughter, then?”

“Yeah. So where do I go?” Kate asked, now more certain that the knight would listen.

The knight shook her head and groaned. “Why me?” She seemed to ask nobody. The mercenary did seem apologetic towards the knight at least. The knight came to some internal decision, “Still, first come first serve. Can you wait? I’ll show you where to go after.”

After that, the knight frowned at both the alchemist and the mercenary.

“Alright, I don’t want to deal with this, I shouldn’t have to, and if I do, then I’m getting the Low Guard involved. That’ll mean time before the magister for both of you. Now, do I need to separate you like children, or will you both go your own way?”

The mercenary continued staring down the alchemist, almost daring the man.

The alchemist broke first. “Fine,” he said. “I don’t have time for this confrontation, either. Some fools aren’t worth the time.” he said as he left.

The merc watched him leave, before spitting on the ground. “Good riddance. Fool’ll get more killed, mark my words.”

“Don’t think you’re above this mess either,” the knight said, though she sounded far less irritable now that the confrontation ended. “You still need to leave too. Unless you actually want a trip before the magister.”

“Nah,” the mercenary said. “Just hangin about to see if the girl needs help.”

“Gross!” the knight said, scowling. “She’s my captain’s daughter, don’t be disgusting.”

“Not that,” the mercenary growled. “Ain’t a monster. Wha’dya take me for?”

“A merc,” the knight said drolly.

“Heh, true.” the mercenary chuckled. “N’ways, you looking to sign up on a caravan, you wanna follow the center path to the door with the sign ‘at says reception. They’ll steer ya right.”

Kate narrowed her eyes in thought.

“He is right,” the knight said. “Though this maze is more complicated than that.”

“But I gotta nother idea, yeah?” the mercenary said. “But it depends on if the kid can use that there sword.”

Kate scoffed. “Of course I can. Unless you want a demonstration?” Kate grinned, hand on her hilt ready to draw.

“Woah!” the mercenary waved her down. “Easy there. I’m a married man.”

“Are you?” the knight asked, shocked.

“Eh–” the mercenary gave a hand waggle.

“What does that even mean?!” Gregory asked, having joined them at some point.

“Means kinda,” the mercenary explained.

“But–”

“Just get to it!” the knight snapped. “I should be halfway to the tavern, not putting up with this meohr dung!”

“Well, if the kid can use the sword, then signing up with the Merc’s Guild would be a better bet, since we got a standard contract with the Caravaneer’s ‘n all. Ya’d even get paid for it.”

“That’s what you wasted our time with? That’s it?” the knight asked.

“Yep,” the mercenary grinned as he turned and left.

“Ugh. Mercs.” The knight swore. “At least he’s gone now.” She turned to Kate and Gregory. “Now then, where did you need to go?”