Sword of Balmung
Chapter One - The Merchant Guild
More than a month later...
"Sir, our merchant cargo ship hasn't return yet." A merchant youth reported.
Andrais, whitesmith extraordinaire, guildmaster of the Merchant Guild, was puzzled. His handsome face was knotted, deep in thought; only their third meeting of the year, and already they had a crisis on their hands. It'd been more than two moons since they'd dispatched The Dovetail. A journey from Alberta to Al de Baran should've taken no more than one moon, and yet two moons later, they had still recieved no news of their ship.
The seven co-leaders and Guildmaster Andrais himself were gathered in a spacious room. The main topic at hand was The Dovetail. The ship had many products personally crafted by some of them; needless to say, the sudden and unexplained disappearence of her worried many.
"Anders, have you any news about The Dovetail?" He turned to his son. The teen blacksmith had inherited his father's good looks.
Anders looked away for a moment before looking back to meet his father's black eyes.
"Our team found The Dovetail's flag." Six pairs of eyes turned to stare intently at the boy.
"…It was charred, burned so badly we could barely recognize it. But I'd never forget our emblem! It…" He trailed off. "We thought we ought to bring it back…"
Exclamations of outrage broke out across the table.
"By Thor!"
"How dare they –"
"Why would anyone do –"
"Who would?"
The exclamations stopped as abruptly as they'd begun. Who would wish the merchant guild ill?
"Perhaps rogues?"
"Or maybe it's them assassins…" Someone else muttered.
Andrais raised one hand imperiously. "We will get nowhere by guesswork. We must work through this slowly; we cannot afford any careless mistakes."
The guild quieted almost immediately at the guildmaster's commanding tone.
"First, I want at least one scout team back where you found our flag" He nodded to Andras. His son nodded and left quickly.
"Next, I'll need a few volunteers to run messages to our allies – " Two tall, thin alchemists immediately excused themselves at Andrais' nod.
The guildmaster looked around at the remaining three guild co-leaders, deep in thought.
Finally he spoke to a dark-skinned, brawny whitesmith beside him. His bushy black hair, combined with deep-set black eyes made any who dared pick a fight with the merchant guild think twice.
"Daja, how far has your son progressed in his studies?" Andrais asked carefully.
Shaggy brows met in a fierce frown. "Th' li'l good-fer-nothin whelp's still on'y a high merchant."
"I believe he was good friends with a young thief the last I saw him." Andrais said.
"Oh aye," Daja spat on the ground. "Still hangin' 'round wi' that scoundrel. A dir'y 'ssassin now." A bushy eyebrow lifted. "Yeh weren' thinkin' o' askin' 'im 'bout th' Dovetail were yeh?"
Andrais nodded, amused at his friend's description of the capable young man. "He'd be able to find out much more than we. I'm sure he has very ah – informative contacts."
"Tha' he will." The burly whitesmith muttered darkly. "Righ', I'll see wha' those rascals ken do."
Andrais smiled slightly as Daja rose and left with uncanny grace for his size.
Turning back to the remaining two co-leaders, he was met with wicked grins. A green-haired young creator spoke up first.
"So what's it to be this time? Another seduction? Or some acid bottles flung into their houses?" For all that she was the youngest co-leader in the guild, Meralin wasn't afraid to speak her mind.
Her twin Mirla, a red-haired young whitesmith elbowed her. "I think I rather liked the whacking them senseless with our carts better." Despite her small and lithe figure, she handled her war axe with ease. Her impish expression was identical to her twin sister's.
For the first time that week, Andrais laughed. It was a full, ringing sound. The twins grinned, looking at each other. Their guild was much too serious.
"Where would we be without you two?" Andrais said, still chuckling.
"Buried in morbid plans for war." Mirla chirped.
"And turning into humourless wizened old men." Her sister added.
Smiling, Andrais asked, "So what do you think we should do with you two?"
The grins faded slightly as the young women pondered the question. After a few moments, Meralin spoke up.
"Let me see the flag. It's burned yes, but at least I can narrow it down to what burned it. You wouldn't believe how different spelled flames and potion-made flames can be."
Andrais nodded, giving her the charred flag. Meralin left with a bow, holding the remains delicately.
This left Mirla. The silence stretched until finally she said slowly, "I can try asking some… people I know."
Andrais raised an eyebrow, but nodded all the same.
As Mirla left the meeting room, the charismatic whitesmith sank back in his chair with a soft sigh.
In all his time as Guildmaster of the Merchant Guild, such a thing had never happened. Rogues, raids, even the rare assassination attempt, he was used to. But a whole cargo ship burned? Pirates only wanted goods. And as far as he knew, the Merchant Guild had no enemies. Perhaps a rival or two, but nothing very serious.
Andrais rubbed his temples wearily. This matter would stretch on and on until the culprit was found. And then his guild would want to exact revenge. Whoever it was that could afford to attack them so openly as to burn one of their ships would be a formidable foe indeed.
But the question wasn't who. It was why.
A/N: Alright, Chapter One finally up! Thanks for the review Halcyon Clouds (or would you prefer to be called Sal?). I'll do my best to make my future chapters a bit longer. Heh, still rather new to the whole continuous adventure type of story.
I know this chapter wasn't particularily exciting, but it sets quite a few wheels in motion, as well as introducing a few characters. I really made most of this up as I went, since my original plan was quite rough. The next update might be a bit late, as I'll be finalizing everything in the whole plot and etc. In the meantime, read and review!
Lotsa love to all reviewers! And cookies too. ;D And as always, please point out any errors or things I can improve on.
Silver Augury