A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands

Book 2: Chapter 15: The Gauntlet

Book 2: Chapter 15: The Gauntlet

Surety forces the mind down into ever narrower channels. Learn to challenge and question everything you have learned.

- A Quassian Aphorism.

The human mind can grow used to the strangest of things. What was once exotic and interesting can grow dull and mundane. Ignoring the outlandish sights - the alien culture and alien creatures through my little window to the world, and having seen enough of the city for a lifetime, I shut both the shutters.

Suddenly, our wagon stopped, which woke up my large companion who sprung into a wary half crouch. We moved near the entrance of the wagon and put our boots on, being careful not to dirty any of the thick carpets. My heart beat rose as I gripped my weapon tightly. I guessed that we had made it to the city gates. Had the guards discovered that it was I who had murdered one of their number?

Part of me welcomed the thought of being discovered - the part of me that looked forward to another release of savagery. Urging myself to be calm, I placed my helm on my head and, picking up my teardrop shield, I girded myself for a possible battle. However, the violence did not come to pass. I strained my ears and heard a terse exchange before the wagons began slowly moving again. Laes and company must be, of course, well-known to the guards of the city, I concluded to myself.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I removed my helm and settled down.

“It was a poor thing that Elwin did. Very sudden,” I said, seeing an opportunity to cover for my poor handling of the Elwin situation, now that our new charge was asleep. In truth, however, I had probably just wanted to gripe about something.

“Warmlanders are an ungrateful and dishonorable lot. How they survive the first touch of winter in each other's company, I know not. I would trust them with nothing. Only promises of gold and silver have weight with them. Honor and bond-debt has little meaning to the lands that have known no test. Elwin Tucker’s path is not the way of honor for men. Though you said for him to go in peace, I wish for him to know none,” commented the wildman. Elwin’s departure must have shaken him a little, as he was positively loquacious.

It was a naive way of thinking, that his own culture was pure and full of honor. Having thought about his tale, I could only conclude that he had been a victim of his own elder’s vicious manipulations. Oh, Kidu, dishonor, manipulation, and betrayal could take many forms. First Durhit had betrayed me somewhere in the mines, and now Elwin had abandoned me. Abandonment and betrayal, these were my lot.

“What do you think of our new bundle?” I asked, pointing to the resting girl and steering the conversation down a new path. Talk of Elwin had done nothing but raise the levels of my anxiety.

“First time I have met eyes with one of the First, in a friendly setting, of course. Brings me memories of my sister Aruru. They had a similar way with the weaving of words. She too, was a Windspeaker. Not strong in the Way…”

“The Way?” I interrupted, thirsty for any knowledge of the arcane.

“You warm landers would call it magic, or witchery. To us it is simply the Way,” he answered succinctly, in his curt manner, before continuing, “But skilled, little Aru could read the path of air and tell us of storms long before their passing. She had the weight of great honor, and many of the Tribe, with the guidance of her gift, have seen many winter’s ends and new springs,” he finished proudly, a spark of something other than the anger that forever haunted him.

We were headed to new climes, and a bud of optimism grew, despite the poor soil of our situation. Whatever dangers I would face, I would face with Kidu’s spear by my side.

A dark moment came when I remembered Elwin leaving us and I swiftly forced myself towards a more positive line of thought.

“Tell me more of life in the North…” I asked, a childish curiosity from a different time entering my voice.

*

Wrestling with Kidu’s grasp of our common language, I gleaned little new information about the harsh life in the north, except for some details about Kidu's immediate family. His parents had departed this life when they were still quite young, and Kidu confessed to only have a few vague memories of them. The tribe had taken both children under its wing, and every member of the community acted as a parent to the pair. This was the way of life in the north, where death could strike unannounced from any number of directions. During our lengthy conversation, which required constant coaxing of details from him, I sensed his deep longing for his family. I noticed his particular kindness towards Larynda, and realized it could pose a threat if he projected such misplaced feelings onto the newest member of my group. It simply would not do, for him to have mixed loyalties.

Hours elapsed, the monotonous rhythm of the wagon traversing the flat, open grassland, rendering my senses dull. As time passed, the light dimmed into a beautiful palette of amber and honeyed reds, signaling the sun's descent. A call for a halt echoed down the line of wagons, and our vehicle gradually rolled to a stop.

Minutes later, we heard a soft knock on our door. "Good sirs!" a rustic male voice called out rather loudly.

I opened the wagon door to find an elderly man, his beard a snowy white and a broad-brimmed leather hat clasped in his hands. I gave him a once-over, then waited for him to continue.

“Sirs, Mr. Gilgamesh sir. I am’s your driver, Ables be my name. We’s be stopping for the day. I was told to tell yer all, that after we get things a settled they’ll be a dinner for yous and all,” he finished, bobbing his head in punctuation.

“Thank you, Ables. I am much obliged to you. Thank you for driving us,” I said as pleasantly as possible, trying to grind out a Charisma gain.

However, my efforts proved futile, as the gods or systems of this world didn't seem to find it in their interest to grant the reward of an attribute gain. "Such a fickle thing," I thought, bitterness creeping into my mind as I hopped off the wagon, the metallic clatter of my steps echoing outside. Ables gave me a curt nod before heading to the front to unhitch the wagon’s six-legged beast of burden. Following my exit, a hulking giant of a man squeezed through the doorway, soon followed by a bleary-eyed half-elven girl.

It was genuinely refreshing to stretch my legs on the green grass, now imbued with a reddish-gold hue - a parting gift from the setting sun. Although our journey had been through relatively flat terrain, the wagon ride was anything but smooth. I was still unaccustomed to the rolling motion of the vehicle. In the world I came from, I'd never suffered much from motion sickness, and although I didn't feel truly ill here, the entire experience was far from pleasant.

As I stretched, feeling the restrictive influence of my armor on my range of motion, I observed the bustling caravaneers attending to their tasks. They had arranged their twenty wagons into a defensive circle and had begun dismantling them for the night. To my eyes, it was as if a mobile village had spontaneously sprung up on the plains.

The beasts of burden were being secured, and tasks related to feeding and settling them were being efficiently handled. The members of Harevor's caravan were experienced, evidently, swiftly establishing the camp with the early stages of a large campfire at its center. Clearly, Laes Harevor the caravaneer ran a very tight ship.

Stern-looking guards were positioned around the perimeter, and torches were set up in anticipation of the approaching night. Twilight soon turned to night and the moon was but a slender crescent in the sky, stingy with its illumination. In several instances, instead of ordinary torches, men used fist-sized chunks of Zajasite. Their familiar blue light dulled the growing darkness, yet beyond the azure circle lay a deep purple that my eyes couldn't penetrate. I found myself wondering about the potential dangers lurking on these starlit plains that necessitated such stringent security measures.

Glancing to my left, I saw Larynda, her eyes wide with fascination at the caravaneers going about their duties. A look of childlike wonder was etched on her face as she watched the scene alongside my companion, Kidu. I observed that, despite the brisk pace and occasional mishaps, not a word of genuine anger was spoken among the industrious people of the caravan. Every man, woman, and child had a duty and purpose, and they carried out their tasks with the efficiency of bustling ants. Truly, it was a lesson in unity and efficiency.

Smiling, I attempted to twirl one of my daggers around in my hand, and succeeded - a feat I would have found nearly impossible before. Even through the leather of my gloves, I was acutely aware of the blade, its balance, its motion. I could almost sense my improved Dexterity compensating for the shortcomings of my underdeveloped muscle memory. I wanted to gauge my progress in this bold new world.

Juggling a single blade, I was unconcerned by the risk of accidentally hurting myself. After all, between my Healing Magic and Pain Nullification skill, there was little to fear. Was this what it meant to step onto a path where ordinary human concerns ceased to matter? Next, I introduced another blade, barely missing a beat. To make things interesting, I added another. Three shimmering blades formed a rotating steel circle as they spun from my hands. I started to sense, rather than see, the daggers in the dim light. Yet, the system still did not grant me an increase in Dexterity or Throwing. Was I beginning to plateau?

"That's not half bad!" the half-elven child chirped.

Despite myself, I felt a little warmth at the simple praise and stole a moment to look at the child. Her eyes glowed with interest, as though I'd just performed some grand magical feat. I instantly dreaded the question I was certain would follow.

"Can I try?" the little girl squeaked, "that looked well ace!"

Part of me wanted to correct her language, but the larger part simply didn't care. However, in response to her request, I knew I should let her down gently. After all, since she was capable of magic, it would serve me well to see that she viewed me favorably.

"Reaching this level of skill requires practice," I said, a trace of smug pride coloring my voice as I smiled down at her, "As a beginner, you could hurt yourself practicing with real blades. It's better for you to start with something else... like rocks, for instance."

"I don't see any rocks around here..." she stated flatly.

"I'm sure we can find something suitable. Let's take a stroll around the camp and see what we can find," I suggested cheerfully, then turned to Kidu, "Kidu, would you mind guarding our wagon? I'll accompany the little one to scout out the camp!"

"Take care, Gilgamesh of Uruk. Don't trust too readily. Rest assured, though, my spear will remain here, unsleeping. But it is best you not take too long," he responded, a rare smile gracing his face as he looked at the half-elf.

I walked off with the girl amidst the bustling activity, taking care to match my pace with hers. Occasionally, I'd nod in apology when either Larynda or I inadvertently obstructed a worker. In our search, we roamed around the camp over the course of about half an hour.

Near one of the wagons, bathed in a circle of blue light, a group of children, free from their chores, blended play with martial training. Two boys, likely between the ages of ten and twelve, were laughing as they swung wooden staves at each other, exhibiting minimal skill but much enthusiasm. Their sporadic shouts of pain and laughter punctuated the scene. We both watched their duel, waiting to see who would ultimately triumph.

However, after a minute or two, my patience wore thin. They possessed something I wanted, and so I decided to intervene in their practice.

"Hello there," I began, gracing them with a small smile and focused my attention on the larger boy, his hair cropped short and his skin rendered a spectral blue by the crystal’s light.

The pair of boys scrutinized us warily, and noticing my warlike appearance, they instinctively took a step back. Perfect, I thought to myself. A good starting point, rooted in strength.

"Bravo! That was an impressive duel,” I exclaimed, giving them my most winning smile.

“Who are you sir…” one of them began before I cut him off, his voice quavering with incredulity.

“I'll get straight to the point - I'd like to purchase those staves from you," I said, adopting my friendliest tone.

"Sorry, sir, but we need these for our practice," replied the smaller boy, a slight, inconspicuous figure of little significance.

"Name your price, and I'll pay it. And you would do well to remember that I am a friend of Laes," I said firmly.

The two boys began to confer among themselves.

"A bronze each would be fair. These practice staves are made of fine wood from…" began the larger boy. I thought I could see his excitement growing at the potential profit to be made at my expense.

I silenced him by raising my hand, removed one of my gloves, and counted out two bronze coins. I handed a coin to each of the boys, who in turn handed me their practice weapons, their faces etched with disbelief. While I was essentially paying for sticks, I found that I didn't mind too much if I could get this interaction over and done with swiftly. Talking to a few minor characters was testing the limits of my patience for this little side quest. Also, much to my chagrin and despite my focused effort, this exchange did nothing to improve my Charisma.

“Come Larynda, we had best return to our wagon,” I suggested to the girl, hiding my annoyance at the rigamarole of doing side activities to build up some favor with a new character.

She perked up a little at the mention of her name before her shoulders settled down. I could not help but notice her look back at the boys, who were now chasing each other around the wagon, a flash of envy in her eyes as we made our way back to Kidu.