Chapter 4
New Friends, Old Enemies
Willow finally managed to gather up her belongings and stow them neatly back into her backpack. Her chest hurt where the chocobo's kick landed but it was nothing she couldn't bear. Throughout her time as an adventurer she had endured much, much worse. The ginger cookies she found did their best to tide her over for a bit, but she knew she would get hungry for something meatier. The salmon sub was long gone down the chocobo's gullet. She probably could have stomached that; she had eaten worse before but not any time recently — not since her time at the Culinarian Guild.
The agreed upon meeting time had long since come and gone. The day hadn't gone anything like she'd planned and so Willow was ready to head back to town. The only problem she faced now was finding to where her rented friend had run off. Tracking the chocobo down wouldn't be too difficult of a challenge but with its swiftness of foot, it was probably halfway back to Jeuno by now.
Her stomach didn't growl so much as it roared. It begged for appeasing. Angry at her friend's routine tardiness, Willow decided to try her again to let her know she was on her way back as soon as she found an early dinner, unless Magiere was already on her way out.
"Mag? Are you there Mag?"
Nothing.
Willow felt mentally weak and didn't think she would be able to summon the strength to cast her spell for the return voyage home until something warm was in her tummy. She resigned herself to the fact that she would have to find her own meal out there in the "wild." It wasn't anything new to her but nowadays she preferred to do her cooking with the proper equipment. She hadn't even brought any spices.
Thinking over the wildlife in the area, Willow attempted to narrow her search for prey. One by one, she rejected each one until it occurred to her that she hadn't had a rarab in quite a while. Though they aren't native to the Rolanberry Fields, rarabs do show up on occasion. With their long ears and large hind legs, they could be relatives of rabbits. The only difference between the two is that rarabs have never been domesticated. The choice was made and Willow set off to track one down.
The hunt proved more difficult than she had thought it would be and she had nearly given up when she found fresh tracks. Tracking it was much easier thanks to her short stint as a ranger in Windurst to help cover the costs of cooking and magic lessons. Once she came upon her helpless prey, she recalled her sleep spell and cast it on the poor animal. From that point, all she had to do was walk up, take the small dagger tucked into her boot, and dispatch the creature.
Using her dagger to prepare the rarab, she immediately thought of the first time she met an old friend. He had offered to share his rarab with her, and maybe if he would have been just a bit nicer, she would have accepted…
- - - - - -
The first few days were spent walking through the rocky, barren terrain that made up South Gustaberg. The monotony of her journey was broken at first by the few beginner adventurers training outside of the city and various small towns outside the capitol. The close proximity of the city gates was a relative comfort to them, but the farther she got from Bastok, the fewer and farther in between was the times she ran into others.
Towards the end of the middle of the fourth day, she looked on her map for a place her feet could find respite. Her throat felt as dried up as her surroundings. Her father had been kind enough to mark her map with all the spots she could find fresh drinking water throughout the Gustaberg region. Though, it was obvious he hadn't traveled in quite a while as a few of the locations were nothing more than dried up wells. Finding a spot to rest with a working well, she began digging through her pack for something to eat. She had packed various dried meats and such since fresh foods wouldn't last long under the hot sun.
The sky had already started to redden and the sun cast long shadows. Willow figured that spot was close enough to the border of North Gustaberg. She decided to make camp there for the night and would get up early the next morning and cross then. She set about gathering what few kindling she could find and tracing the outline for her camp. She then cast a spell which would keep her and her fire out of sight.
When she had unpacked her things to set up her camp, Willow noticed a leather pouch that she didn't pack. It was towards the bottom of her pack and had escaped her attention until now. Lifting it up, she felt the heavy weight of it and peered inside. The shine of metal caught her eye and she reached in. Willow pulled out coin after coin—all told, she counted five thousand pieces of gil. No wonder her father had snuck the pouch in her belongings. After all he had bought her, there was no way she would accept half a year's salary from him too. She smiled inwardly at the gesture, and missed her father that much more. After eating her meal in silence, Willow prepared her things for the next day's journey, made herself comfortable then went to bed.
All went according to her plan the next day, and she spent most of the morning walking. The empty terrain of North Gustaberg was just as desolate as South Gustaberg, but at least she was able to stop off at the Bastokan outpost there. She spent some of the gold on various supplies and a real meal then continued on her journey.
Midway through the day, the sounds of a caravan reached Willow from behind her. She turned around to watch as two medium-sized, covered wagons, each pulled by two chocobos, was approaching from the south along the path she was treading. The lead wagon was being driven by an overweight fellow with graying hair and a matching beard. He was dressed in expensive looking fabrics and had an air of arrogance about him. The chocobos pulling the wagon also appeared to be a little wide around their midsections as well.
"You there! Are you an adventurer?" He pointed at Willow.
"Me? Well, I suppose I am."
"My name is Sebben Von Heinrich. How about I make you a deal: I'll give you a lift as far as you're headed if you'll provide security for me and my, uh, wares."
"Where are you headed?" Willow did her best to keep the happiness over not walking out of her voice.
"I'm going to Jeuno to make my fortune. Are you going there too? It always seems like every adventurer is going to Jeuno these days."
"I am headed to San d'Oria."
"Ah, yes. I should have guessed. Well, you're hired. Hop on. I'll take you as far as partway through the Konschtat Highlands. From there, you can go on your way, and I'll go on mine."
"My name is Willow Raulemant. Pleased to make your acquaintance," she said and hopped on the wagon. The ride would shave a few days time off my walking, she thought to herself. She was thrilled at the prospect of her very first mercenary job, while Sebben was thrilled to hire a temporary underling for free.
The first thing Willow noticed about her new employer was his stench. He smelled of sweat and dirt. There was another scent mixed in, as though he tried to mask his overpowering odor with perfume. It wasn't working. Try as she might, she could not get used to the smell so she to put it out of her mind by focusing her attention on the desolate, yet oddly scenic, view. She then decided to put her energy into looking professional by scanning the horizon looking for possible threats. Looking at the tall hills made of jagged, orange rock surrounding them, she wondered if Sebben could really tell she was just a rookie. If he could, she couldn't tell and she wasn't about to tell him.
Sebben prattled on and on about things Willow cared little about. He discussed his plans for cornering certain markets but was careful not to divulge too many secrets for fear of giving away everything to a prospective competitor. Willow smiled and nodded. After several hours of hearing him speak, she wished she was walking alone again. It was late afternoon when they'd crossed over the bridge in North Gustaberg signaling their close proximity to the Highlands' border.
"We'll stop for the night shortly after we cross into the Highlands. Hopefully, things'll stay as quiet as they've been. It seems as if you're good luck for us, Willow. By now, the guys I normally hire have fended off a Quadav attack or two."
His voice snapped Willow out of her scanning. Guys? How many of us are there, she asked herself. The rocky hills seemed to crowd and squeeze in around them the closer they got to the Highlands. Eventually the hills gathered together in front of them forming a wall of rock, leaving only a lone grassy path in the cracks just wide enough for them to pass. The grass came as a surprise to Willow since the Gustaberg region's soil wasn't rich enough to sustain any plant life other than the occasional stubborn weed.
Before entering the pass, the caravan approached a solitary Galka outfitted in an iron breastplate and matching regalia. In his armor he was almost the spitting image of Rabid Wolf, the Galka she spoke to before leaving town, except for his short white hair. He stood guard beside a tall pole with a long, flowing banner that displayed Bastok's insignia. She saluted him as the caravan passed him—he absently stared at her without returning the gesture.
The wagons proceeded into the narrow pass before them which meant they would be inside the area known as the Konschtat Highlands. There was little room for maneuvering the wagons; it was as if the rock was threatening to swallow the wagons whole. Willow feared that if they were attacked from above, there would be little chance of retaliating so she kept her eyes skyward at the cliffs above. The path wound through the solid rock until finally it opened up into a small open field. It appeared to be as good a spot as any to camp but the caravan pressed onward.
"What is wrong with that spot?" Willow asked.
Sebben eyed her curiously for a moment, then smiled, eager to show his superior experience, "It's a trap waiting to happen. A few years back I learned that one firsthand when my entire shipment was stolen from me at swordpoint. There's nowhere to run once you're in there so it's easy to get surrounded."
Willow nodded and cursed inwardly at herself for showing how green she was. A short while later, the sun had set yet the caravan still continued on. "Just a bit further," Sebben noted.
The rocky pass started to widen and before long, the pass opened up into a rolling, grassy plain. In the growing darkness it was hard to make out much else but Willow could plainly see large blobs that could have been small hills or towers in the distance. Shortly after exiting the narrow pass, Sebben pulled the reigns and the chocobos stopped.
"We'll stop here for the night and head on out first thing in the morning." Sebben then grabbed the pearl on his ear and spoke yet no words could be heard escaping his mouth. Willow wondered what he had said but the sounds of people dismounting the wagon behind her indicated that he had given the command to make camp for the night. Both of them hopped off the wagon and Willow took a few steps away from camp to survey the area quickly looking for any sign of threat.
"Hey, whatcha lookin' at?" asked a voice behind her.
"Nothing, just keeping an eye out," she replied without looking at the speaker.
"So, you're the other adventurer we picked up earlier. Hi, my name is Vincent." Willow stopped her search to look at the owner of the voice. In front of her, stood a dark-haired, Hume male with his hand outstretched towards her. He was tall, yet Willow was nearly as tall as he was, and his face was a tangled mess of hair that refused to gather into any sort of beard. He wore a thin leather coat over which was arranged a series of overlapping bronze scales. His leggings were also covered in scales and he looked like a giant metal fish that had just learned to breathe air and walk about on land. The dancing light of the campfire that was just starting to burn gave the illusion that he gave off a faint glow.
She removed her helm, looked him in the eyes, and shook his hand, "I am Willow. Nice to meet you."
"Right back at you," he added. "Listen, I don't know about you but I'm starvin'. I need to eat. You need to eat. Let's eat together."
"Excuse me?"
"Be back in a flash." He said, ignoring her response and ran off into the surrounding darkness. She couldn't see him, but strained her ears for any sounds she could make out in the direction he ran. Minutes passed, and then she heard a mechanical click, followed by the whistle of an arrow cutting its way through the air. Seconds later, the high-pitched yelp of some poor animal's death cry rang out.
Vincent returned to the camp hoisting the spoils of his hunting trip: a small rarab. It hung loosely as he held it up by its powerful hind legs. He smiled at Willow as though he'd just taken down some ferocious beast. "This should do nicely. I bagged it—you clean it," he announced and threw the rarab at Willow.
Willow caught it reflexively, before dropping the carcass on the ground. Since she was unsure how to react to Vincent she just decided not to press the issue. It was much too late and she was mentally fatigued from being on guard all day.
"I do not think so," Willow said in an acidic tone. "Sebben mentioned somewhere in his hours of rambling that there were plenty of provisions for us to eat." Just then, the tantalizing aroma of the food being cooked in the campfire wafted over towards them. "I do not think a man like Sebben misses many meals or eats anything less than the finest cuisine. In fact, I think I shall go see what is on the menu."
Vincent's puzzled expression amused Willow. Maybe he really expected me to eat with him, she contemplated. The thought amused her after the fact. She walked away, leaving him and his dinner to their own devices.
She made her way to the fire and noticed two others beside Sebben that she hadn't met before. A large, muscular figure with his back towards her was stirring the cauldron that hung over the fire. The other was a small, child-like figure that barely came up to the calf of the massive figure next to her. She cheerfully hummed a tune while getting some bowls ready for the stew that slowly boiled above her. Both were dressed in an odd sort of garish uniform that was vaguely reminiscent of Sebben's fine clothing, though nowhere near as nice. It gave her the impression both were permanent employees of Sebben. Both of them looked in Willow's direction when she got closer.
"Hello, young miss. You must be the other adventurer the boss told us about, Willow. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm Wandering Ox and my small friend here is Pameme."
"Hello! Nice to meetaru you," said the small Tarutaru happily.
After greeting both, Willow's mouth began to water at the smell of the delicious stew. "What is for dinner?"
"Mutton stew. Fresh from Windurst. Boss has been on a kick lately. This is all we've had for about a week now, " muttered Wandering Ox. "Would you pass out the bowls, Pameme?"
Pameme went around the group and handed out the bowls and other utensils. "Remember thataru time we ate nothing but dhamel pies for a montharu? Yecch!"
"I take it Sebben does this sort of thing often, then?"
"Unfortunately," lamented Wandering Ox.
The mismatched crew sat down to enjoy their hearty, if repetitive, dinner. Being that it was Willow's first time dining on it, she absolutely savored the meal and thought it insane anyone would ever get tired of it. A short while later, Vincent returned, picking his teeth with a small dagger as he approached, then took a seat next to Pameme.
"Have a bowl, Vincent. I had it shipped in from directly from the Culinarian guild—cost a pretty penny too. It's simply divine, " invited Sebben.
"No thanks. In my line of work, I don't trust meals I don't prepare myself. Besides, the rarab I had earlier was hearty—enough for two even, " he added, glaring at Willow.
Willow avoided his glance while the reference was lost on the others. Throughout the meal, Sebben rambled on once again about his plans once he would arrive in Jeuno. The others would knowingly nod at each other in mock agreement with his plans. It was through these glances that Willow became aware of Vincent's lingering stares in her direction. Once she would look at him, he would turn away and pretend to be in deep concentration over Sebben's entrepreneurial endeavors. The stares bore into her, eating away until the only thing that remained was an unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling. The half-eaten bowl in front of her lost all flavor, and chewing became a chore.
"It's not to your liking, Willow?" chimed Sebben, noticing her effort to eat. "I suppose I can't really blame you. It's something of an acquired taste, really."
"I am sorry. I am just… full. I just did not want to be rude."
"Nonsense, my dear. You put forth a valiant effort. As it stands, it's almost time for bed. I'll leave the watch setup to you professionals. I think I'll retire for the evening."
Sebben hopped into the rear wagon and pulled the canvas flap down, leaving the other four alone. The four of them sat around the campfire for a moment without stirring. No one dared disturb the absence of sound left in the wake of the hour of Sebben's business meanderings.
Wandering Ox's voice shattered the silence first. "I'll take first watch, followed by Willow, then Pameme, and last Vincent." The others meekly nodded in honest approval and slowly stirred to prepare themselves for bed. Willow wished to herself that she knew the spell her father used to protect their training areas from unwanted guests. Then, at least, she'd get a full night's rest. The only one she knew wasn't big enough for the area. It's not so bad. At least I can finally sleep, not to mention get away from Vincent. She slipped into the other wagon, removing her armor in favor of a more comfortable night gown, and closed her eyes to welcome her dreams.
The sharp sounds of metal clanging against metal roused Willow from her slumber. "Willow! On your feet, we've got visitors!"
Willow was on her feet and out of the wagon with her rapier in the blink of an eye. Her still-drowsy eyes drank in the view before her. The campfire had spread beyond its rocky boundaries. Wandering Ox was surrounded by several tiny-by-comparison goblins and flanked by a few more aiming crossbows at him. Several bolts covered his body in various places, dripping blood where the projectiles had found their mark. Vincent was running towards the goblin firing line brandishing a large, dual-edged axe and his mouth poured out every sort of obscenity Willow had ever heard and quite a few she hadn't. Even little Pameme was out running around and casting protection spells on everyone and curing spells to keep the Galka going while avoiding incoming fire.
Willow glanced around at the others and noticed that each of them was dressed and ready to fight. Inwardly, she regretted getting into her nightgown and made a mental note to always stay prepared out in the "field." However, her regret boiled off when the memory of her own goblin experience as a child seethed within her. Taking a brief moment to enchant her blade, she charged forward.
Wandering Ox was holding his own against the five goblins around him. His powerful fists delivered punch combo after combo and knocking them back but the ones further back firing on him kept him from making progress in fighting them off. Seeing that he was able to handle them, Willow ran past him on her way to help Vincent but not before she ran one of the goblins through with her sword. Sparks danced off his body as she pulled her sword out then continued onward.
"AHHHH," cried out Sebben. Willow hadn't seen him but the sound came from the other wagon where he set up for the night. Once she ran by, Willow saw Sebben clasping his chest where a bolt struck. "Pameme, look after Sebben!" she shouted over the chaos of the battle.
The Tarutaru hobbled over as quickly as her small legs would take her. After a quick survey of the mess before her, she proceeded to pull on the bolt but the barbed tip prevented the extraction. Sebben howled in pain at her attempts to pull out the bolt, but eventually calmed himself.
"Hold on a second, " he requested. Gritting his teeth, Sebben grabbed hold of the shaft and pulled as hard as he could. The bolt withdrew from his body but left behind a small bloody hole. While Pameme starting casting curing spells over him, Sebben seemed genuinely more irate over the cost of his shirt than the life-threatening injury he just had.
"Do you have any idea how much this cost? Vincent! Willow! Show them no mercy!" Just then a bolt struck him in the throat.
Willow smiled to herself. She hadn't planned on showing any mercy anyway. However, she looked over her shoulder and found that since Pameme left Wandering Ox to aid her boss, the big Galka was in a bit of trouble. With no curing available, he would be falling to the remaining goblins' weapons soon. She stopped for a moment to bring to mind her most potent cure spell and cast it on Wandering Ox. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod while continuing to fight off his attackers.
The curing she gave her wounded companion managed to anger some of the firing line and bolts soon started flying Willow's way. She did her best to avoid getting hit but proved unable to get through the onslaught without incurring a few grazes. One bolt looked as if it would actually hit her dead-on but Willow shielded herself with her arm.
The shot landed and stuck directly on her forearm. She winced at the pain of it, but kept her resolve and bridged the short gap between her and the goblin firing line. Had she been shot before her training sessions it might have been enough to stop her cold, but her pain tolerance grew considerably ever since sparring with her father. Here and now, though, the pain took a backseat to her rage. However, Willow made a mental note that she may want to consider getting a shield for her offhand.
Willow focused her attention on a goblin bowman that was momentarily distracted while trying to dodge Vincent's onslaught. Elation filled her as she felt the blade sink in to her surprised victim. She didn't even try to suppress the wicked smile that formed on her lips. Electrical arcs swirled every where as the small body slumped and fell to the ground. She took up a spot where she could draw the remaining goblins' attention while giving Vincent a wide berth. Vincent's untamed swings made no attempt to distinguish between friend or foe.
"Watch it! That was nearly my head, " she exclaimed at him when a forceful swing missed his intended target. His only reply was an enraged look in her general direction. His swings seemed more designed to keep the various goblins unbalanced and on the defensive. The tactic was working since Wandering Ox wasn't being fired upon anymore. Willow took advantage of the situation and brutally dispatched several of them while they were avoiding Vincent's attacks. From time to time, she would cast a cure spell on Wandering Ox to keep him in fighting condition. The pair made a strangely effective team. They got into a rhythm where Vincent would disburse the crowd of goblins and Willow would pick them off one by one.
"Jek nest na trect!" shouted a goblin on a nearby hill. The muzzled voice speaking in the hard language reminded Willow of the two childhood villains that plagued her dreams for years. Hearing it speak only angered her more. This one was different than the others. It wore a steel mask and brandished an impressive-looking dagger. The mask and dagger glowing in the dark thanks to the firelight, coupled with the commands it was shouting, painted an intimidating picture. That made little difference to Willow. She was determined to take it out.
"JA!" cried out the goblin crossbowman. The command appeared to get them to retreat and regroup.
"That one appears to be the leader, " noted Wandering Ox.
"Thanks for the update, Wandering Obvious. Any more news you'd like to give us, like 'It's dark out' or 'Fire is hot'?" retorted Vincent.
"He is mine!"
"I'll keep the firing line distracted, sweetheart. Have at him."
Willow disengaged the crossbowman and charged at the leader with her sword dragging at her side. Once she was in range, she swung her rapier at the goblin in a forceful, wide arc. The leader blocked the blade with his dagger but the momentum of the swing knocked made him take a step back. The attack would have been deadly had it landed but with the leader's parry put it in prime position to strike at Willow's vulnerable "underbelly". A quick slash across her unarmored abdomen quickly stopped her momentum. Furious at small creature in front of her, she brought down the pommel of her rapier onto the center of its mask. The goblin leader stumbled back in a daze. That window of opportunity was all Willow needed to end its brutish life. Willow's pommel was the last thing it saw.
Pameme noticed Willow take a knee after her ordeal with the lead goblin and sent a cure spell her way. "You can restaru later!"
"Thank you. You saved me the trouble."
The majority of the firing line and the leader had been dealt with so the remaining goblins fled. The only exceptions were the few that were busy attacking Wandering Ox. Willow went to his aid while Vincent gave chase and ran off into the darkness yet again, screaming wildly into the night. The remaining three did what they could to get the fires under control. Vincent returned shortly, grinning from ear to ear, clutching a goblin mask.
"Good… job.. every… one..," garbled Sebben. His neck was treated and bandaged but he seemed none the worse for wear.
"Don'taru speak!" scolded Pameme. "You're lucky I was there when you got hitaru. That bandage will do for now. I'll finish after I tend to the restaru." Willow grinned roguishly at the authoritative tone in Pameme's voice.
Pameme strolled over to Wandering Ox, began to tend to his wounds, and whispered in his ear, "Sorry, looks like we're stuck eating more stew."
"Thank you, Willow," boomed Wandering Ox. "If it hadn't bee-"
"Yeah, you were amazing, Willow! Marry me, " interrupted Vincent. "Not right this second. I mean, where would we find a priest at this hour? But soon; what do you say?"
"Excuse me? I do not even know you. Thanks for the offer, but I will have to… pass…" It was at that moment that Willow realized that everyone was staring at her. It had been easy for her to forget that she started the battle wearing only her night gown. The battle had taken its toll not only on her but her flimsy gown. The gown had soaked with blood, some of it her own, and was cut open in several spots. The wetness of it caused the gown to stick to her, outlining her shapely form. At the right angle, anyone could see her body without her permission. She had always been somewhat of a tomboy growing up and never really paid much attention to her womanly side, even when nature demanded it. At that point in time, on the other hand, there was no escaping it.
Blushing and moving her arms to cover herself, she noted the crossbow bolt still sticking out of her forearm. The adrenaline coursing through her body had slowly worn off and every nick, scratch, and cut burned. She clutched her arm as the pain began to increase to almost unbearable levels. Pameme ran towards her and attempted to cover her with her blanket. Willow stooped to welcome the cover from prying eyes, but the Tarutaru-sized blanket did little to help the situation.
"Don'taru look! Show some respectaru," Pameme demanded as she led Willow away to do what she could for her arm.
" I've had my fill anyway, " Vincent noted absently after they'd left. "I don't mean to be a spoil sport but we should really think about movin'. We may have won now, but I got a feelin' they'll be back—with friends."
"Agreed," was all Wandering Ox had to offer.
Sebben opened his mouth to say something but Pameme shot him a glance that made him think otherwise. He simply nodded his approval after that. Everyone proceeded about their business to pack up and move along. Willow retired to her temporary wagon-home and changed back into her armor. Her bandaged arm still stung under the armor, but not nearly as much as her modesty. She choked back the lump in her throat and reminded herself to deal with Vincent as soon as possible.