The Fortress Town
A small hazy ray of light slanted in through a window no more than four feet above where Valor Loftlan lay on one of four beds that occupied the room.
The light angled down slightly as the morning grew, illuminating a patch of the boy's sleeping face, his somewhat bluff features twitching fitfully.
The Chosen of Earth stirred a bit, reflexively settling a beefy forearm over his face to ward off the light, though the fact that he was still wearing his gauntlets meant that he ended up knocking himself on the brow with their metal backings.
A slight wince, and the young man's blue eyes opened slightly. He yawned groggily, removing his forearm and raising his head enough to see that he lay slightly askew across the squat bed, still wearing his full armor.
Now he was trained to sleep in various kinds of armor, but the catch was that he would be sore in places the next day, and little aches and pains greeted the warrior as he shuffled about, running a hand over his face and through his short, somewhat spiky brown hair.
More aches greeted him as he forced himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed into a sitting position. He yawned again with a fist over his mouth, before he managed a sobering shake of his head and opened his eyes fully.
Familiar feelings assaulted him as he looked across a long rectangular bedroom. He occupied the leftmost bed near the west wall of the room while three other beds occupied the room to the right of his in a line. Looking about, this non-descript place seemed incredibly similar to the one in which Valor had awoken with his fellow Chosen the first time they had all met.
The warrior gave a slight shake of his head: what a grand disaster that had been. Reflecting on it, only a couple weeks had passed since the four Light Warriors had met; yet Valor had the impression of it having been years. Unlike last time, however, he was the only Light Warrior that currently occupied this room. The other three beds were empty.
The bustle of a fully awakened settlement came to Valor's ears, though it was much more mute than the daily workings of Cornelia. Of course, the capital city of Highland housed nearly two hundred thousand people, while to Valor's recollection; Truce contained only three thousand or so. It was a good-sized town, though some people referred to it as a fortress city.
Valor himself had never been this far north, though he had read books about Truce and its strategic importance as a fortress that guarded the southern most point of the Painstaking Pass that ran through the Warren Hills. Though not rugged enough to be called mountains, the hills were still rough enough that travel through them without the pass would have been nearly impossible, especially for a force of any size.
Remembering this rekindled Valor's sense of urgency. His brow knit and he quickly stood, wincing through minor aches as he went about setting his armor straight. Some pieces had gone slightly askew during sleep, and he had to loosen some of the leather fittings before settling his pauldrons to rights. His plain steel breastplate was secure, though it had dug into his flesh quite painfully in sleep, leaving lines of soreness about the extremes of his torso. His gauntlets were perfectly secure and his greaves and sabatons needed only a bit of straightening over the boots beneath.
This selection of armor, often known as field plate, left enough agility to perform some quick movements during battle, though Valor would still trade it for full plate, though sleeping in that was actually impossible. The way he had been trained to fight favored less movement and heavier personal protection, but the gil he had on him wouldn't be enough for a new suit of armor even if there were an armorsmith skilled enough in Truce to make one.
Looking about some more, Valor quickly found that some of his possessions were missing and searched for his kite shield and hand-and-a-half sword. The warrior scoured the bedroom for several minutes, even flattening himself to the slat-board floor to check under the beds, but his weapon and shield were nowhere to be found. It was then that he noticed a small rolled parchment on a little wooden chair near the east wall of the room.
The boy went and picked up the parchment, unrolling it to find it a note from Cid. Apparently, the old engineer had sold Valor's sword and shield for enough gil to pay room and board at this inn for a week's worth of time.
Valor's jaw clenched as he crushed the note in one hand.
Great, now he needed a weapon and shield. Hopefully, he would be able to coax one of each from the Lord Commander of this town.
Valor remembered from his reading that the local Lord of Truce was also the head of the local garrison. No doubt such sole leadership granted the town's ruler great authority, but it was also of little doubt that such a person would be incredibly busy. He recalled reading that the middling House of Rainhart had been granted governance over the fortress town nearly a century ago.
He would have to meet with the Lord Commander within the day, but for now he felt the urge to seek out his fellow Chosen. This compulsion was sudden and strange, and Valor had reason to believe it was not his own, but came from the Earth Orb. He felt the artifact in its pouch around his neck, tucked securely under his breastplate as it always was.
The boy's fatigue-filled memories from leaving the Brazen Bell and coming to this inn were patchy at best, but as far as he could recall the other three Chosen had stumbled along with him. The fact they weren't here now meant that Valor had must have been much more exhausted than the other three if they were already up and about.
Even though the warrior was certain the others were fine, he supposed gathering them up was something he should do before he met the Lord Commander. His reluctance came from the fact that he really didn't feel like putting up with Gantz's tongue today.
Valor sighed, however, and went toward the stairwell near at the southeastern end of the room. His heavy boots thudded dully over the slat-board floor as he put a hand to the wooden railing and descended.
As he went down, Valor past two other landings that led to narrow hallways before coming into a large common room at ground level. A dozen small round tables filled the spacious room and only two on the far side were occupied with people that didn't seem to notice his arrival.
A plump woman gathering up dishes did, however, acknowledge Valor's entrance with a quick smile. She was pleasant-looking in a bonnet and linen dress of plain cut and motioned for him to take a table. "Have you a seat, love, and I'll get you some breakfast."
Still sore, Valor gave the woman a nod and eased himself into a chair at a table near the northern wall of the room. Several arched windows along the wall, each made of many diamond-shaped panes of amber glass, let in steady streams of soft tawny light.
Bathed in them, Valor pinched the bridge of his nose. He was still groggy with sleep, but he hoped breakfast would help him regain his focus.
He really didn't have time to be tired. Unsure of how long he had slept for, he would have to find the other Chosen and move with haste toward Truce's Citadel, where the Lord Commander would undoubtedly be. He had to find out what the man knew about the goblin army's advance and come up with some kind of plan to rout a force that must be at least nine thousand strong.
Lost in thoughts of defeating an army, Valor snapped back to himself quickly as a little blond girl, no more than twelve at most, came up to place a wooden plate, bowl and cup before him. She gave him a shy smile and then put down a tin fork and spoon beside the bowl.
Valor gave her a grin, and the girl squeaked suddenly before turning away to flee back through the swing door on the east wall that undoubtedly led to the kitchens.
Perplexed by her sudden flight, Valor just shrugged, before a group of women came through the door. The plump pleasant-faced woman led two younger girls, one carrying a small steaming pot, her hands ensconced in thick oven mitts. The other carried a cloth-draped pan and tin pitcher. Directed by the plump woman, the two girls came up quickly and set their burdens down on his table. The woman then swept them aside. "Here you are, love, some cinnamon-spiced porridge, a mincemeat pie with a side of hash, and mulled cider to drink."
Taking a wooden ladle from her own apron pocket, the plump woman opened the steaming pot and spooned porridge into Valor's bowl until it was full. She then took out a long wooden spatula and scooped a large piece of steaming mincemeat pie on his plate before shoveling several large helpings of hash browns on the other side, filling it completely. As she finished, one of the girls filled his cup up with warm mulled cider.
"Come now girls, leave the handsome young knight to his breakfast in peace," she said, and the younger girls giggled as she led them back through the swing door.
"Actually I am no -," but it was no use, they were gone. Valor just sighed, too much weighing on his mind to even enjoy a moment of levity at some young girls' fancies.
The delicious smells of the food had had his mouth watering since the three had entered, and he quickly set about filling his rather empty stomach. Though urgency gnawed at him, he forced himself to eat steadily with measured bites. After all, he was no ill-mannered lout to go stuffing his face like Gantz always seemed to do when he ate.
Eating also made Valor think of Robin Magus. During their several days of travel north from Cornelia to the Rumsley estate, the black mage had never taken her share of the simple food Sana had conjured for them, but always went off on her own to forage. He had also caught her taking pulls from a leather flask now and then, wondering what kind of nourishment it provided. He had always been curious about her, ever since she had granted them a brief tale of her upbringing in a village of the southern tribes during that fateful morn all the Light Warriors had met.
Of course, Valor knew he would have to continue to curb his curiosity. Neither Gantz nor Robin was the trusting sort, and the Chosen of Earth had enough to deal with on his plate as it was.
Despite pacing himself, Valor finished eating rather quickly and stood, leaving a few gil as a tip to the staff, and went out the main entrance of the inn without another word.
He came out onto a narrow cobblestone street, apparently into a market district. Hawkers cried their wares before various booths under striped awnings or peaked tents, groups of them set up between more permanent wood-framed buildings of one or two stories. Throngs of people milled about everywhere, most in plain linen garb and sturdy cloaks to ward off a cool spring breeze, though the occasional noble with their entourage were seen cutting through the commoners here and there. The hammers of several smiths could be heard in different directions, clanging away above the din of livestock and countless conversations.
Yet it was the world above the people that caught Valor's attention quickly. The walls of the town were higher than Valor had ever seen guarding such a relatively small settlement. They even rivaled the height of Cornelia's great curtain walls, though the walls of the capital where of white stone and always pristine, while these walls were plain granite. Knots of halberd-wielding soldiers in spanghelms and chainmail hauberks patrolled the streets, while more lightly armored archers walked the walls above.
Still, every soul combined in the city was probably no more than four thousand, not even half the size of the force that would be on Truce's doorstep in probably no more than a week's time… if that long.
As high as the walls were, however, it was Truce's Citadel that towered above everything by a shocking degree. The town itself had been built upon a massive rocky escarpment, its many walls ringing the town and barricading the southern entrance to the Painstaking Pass down from the Warren Hills to the north. Yet the height of the Citadel made even the walls seem like mere wrinkles in a parchment. It was the mightiest structure Valor had ever seen, even making the great Castle Cornelia in the heart of the White City seem plain.
What the boy absolutely couldn't believe was that it was all made of metal. According to the books Valor had read, the Citadel was an ancient structure, constructed in a time of legends long before the Cataclysms had happened.
From here, almost at the farthest point from the Citadel one could get and still be in town, it seemed of one piece of silver metal, a mighty stylized keep that tapered up into a single tower that literally lanced into the heavens. The very top of that awesome tower seemed tipped like a leaf-shaped spear and indeed gleamed like the razor sharp blade of such a weapon. Valor had thought such descriptions in his books were mere embellishment on the authors' part, but seeing it with his own eyes confirmed that words did the actual structure no justice.
Still, Valor forced himself to quit gawking and lowered his gaze. He had a task to accomplish and standing about gaping like a bumpkin was not going to see it done.
The warrior kept his back to the inn for several seconds, trying to think of where he might find his fellow Chosen. Gantz could be literally anywhere in town, and Valor prayed to the gods that the rodent wasn't practicing his villainous trade on a people about to come under siege. The Chosen of Earth shook his head quickly, however; he couldn't let the fool thief fluster him now. He knew Robin Magus didn't like people and so was likely in some part of town where there weren't many. He couldn't think of such a place off the top of his head though, when his thoughts suddenly shifted to Sana-Lynn.
He looked up, quickly determined, and marched toward a knot of soldiers. One of the men saw him approach and motioned to the others. They were five in all, and a grizzled old sergeant shuffled through his men to be the first to meet the young warrior, a hand to the hilt of his sword. "Halt there and state your intentions, warrior!" he declared in his scratchy voice.
Sensing there might be trouble, the throng parted around Valor, giving him and the soldiers plenty of room just in case this encounter came to blows.
Armored but unarmed, Valor raised his empty hands quickly to allay such fears. "I merely wish to know where the White Temple is located in Truce. I am a newcomer here, and seek the assistance of a white mage."
The sergeant just grunted. "Well, we don't have any grand temples in this humble town of ours, warrior, but we do have a small chapel dedicated to the Holy in the Blue District. Just head northwest of here and you'll get there eventually. C'mon, lads, we have a patrol to finish!" he barked, and led his knot of men off down the street.
A few of the soldiers glanced back, shooting Valor suspicious looks, but the boy now had his first lead and paid them no mind. If Sana-Lynn was anywhere in Truce, it had to be that chapel.
Maybe together, he and Sana could figure out where Robin and the rodent were located.
The Citadel marked the northernmost point of the town proper before the great wall that fortified the mouth of the pass. Valor had the entire town between him and that mighty edifice and so focused on moving through the throng.
Truce itself was seemingly split into four major districts by a crux of wide avenues, and Valor followed the narrow cobblestone street of the inn until he met one of these major meridians, which bisected the town into east and west sections.
The broad lanes too filled with people to run, Valor did manage a sort of trot, circumventing groups of folks here and there, avoiding knots of soldiers, and sidling around wagons and carts, careful not to startle the oxen that pulled them.
Forcing patience, Valor traveled in this haphazard manner for nearly twenty minutes until he came to a district where all the buildings had blue-tiled roofs. Here, he left the main avenue and entered cobbled streets again. It wasn't long until the buildings fell away, and a graveyard spread out before the warrior, gradually rising to a small hill that was topped by a long whitewashed wooden building with plate-glass windows along it sides. With a tall steeple at its fore, Valor knew this to be a Chapel of the Order of the White Staff.
Just beyond a rusted wrought-iron gate, Valor entered the graveyard. A small path of weathered flagstones wound its way through rows of graves, and Valor followed the path for a time, before stepping off to cut across rows of gravestones. He did so until he came to where the path wound up around the side of the small hill. Following the way again, he quickly ended his journey directly before the whitewashed double doors of the chapel.
The warrior knocked twice with an armored fist before he opened one of the weathered double doors, its white paint worn and peeling in places. It creaked open on old iron hinges.
He stepped into a long nave, roughly forty feet in length. Whitewashed pews filled two rows leading up to a stepped dais with a white wooden podium atop it. A tall woman in the robes of a white mage suddenly looked up at Valor's entrance, reverently closing a thick tome she had been reading and coming down the dais to greet him.
She was nearly Valor's height, a woman maybe ten years older than he, with deep brown eyes and long brassy hair that fell down around her slender face in waves.
She seemed rather serene in manner - though before she could utter a word, a high-pitched squeal sounded through an archway flanking the dais.
Startled, Valor reached for his sword reflexively, only to remember that his weapon was gone.
A tiny redheaded girl in plain white robes, no more than four or five, ran under the archway into the nave proper, giggling and squealing in delight. Chasing her was Sana-Lynn, the Chosen of Water laughing and giggling as well as she ran after the child.
They led a marry chase through the nave, the child laughing shrilly before Sana cut across a pew and grabbed the tiny girl, tickling her fiercely.
"Tickle monster attack!" Sana declared and the little girl shrieked and squealed at her assault.
The tall woman quickly stepped past Valor, her previously serene features set rather sternly. "What is the meaning of this, you two?"
The Chosen of Water let the little girl go and stood. Under the scrutiny of the tall woman, the redheaded child quickly dashed off back under the archway without a sound.
Sana's amber eyes lit up and she smiled as she noticed Valor, though she smoothed her features over as she faced the older white mage. "I apologize, Sister Nadine, but Mila has been rather antsy all morning and I thought a little exercise would help her focus better on her lessons."
The older woman shook her head. "Really, Sister Atha, you should know better than to run pel-mel through a Holy Chapel, whatever the reason. This is sacred ground, after all."
Sana-Lynn nodded. "Of course, Sister, I apologize again."
The older white mage sighed. "Anyhow, the young man you told me of has arrived. I suppose the two of you can be on your way to confer with Lady Rainhart."
Valor was a bit taken back. "Lady Rainhart?"
Sister Nadine looked to him. "Yes, Chosen of Earth, Lord Commander Brunhilda Rainhart of House Rainhart, Steward of Truce and Guardian of the Pass."
"Sounds like another stuffed shirt to me," came a familiar voice from down a row of pews.
All eyes went to Gantz, the thief lounging in one pew, both arms sprawled along the back of it. "You know, I've never actually been in church before. Damned uncomfortable seats."
Agitated, Valor took a step forward. "Where in the realm did you come from, thief?"
The young man stood from the white pew. About average height, the wolf-lean thief sauntered up to stop before Valor with his arms folded. As always, he wore black from head to toe, his light leather jerkin and fingerless gloves the only armor he wore over his black ensemble.
A grin spread over the boy's swift hawkish features, his dark almond-shaped eyes harboring a mischievous glint. "You surprised to see me, fearless leader? I've been shadowing you ever since you left the inn earlier."
Valor stiffened. "I would have thought you incapable of entering sacred ground unharmed, villain."
Gantz laughed. "What, you thought I'd burst into flame or something?"
"I can make that happen," interjected another voice from near the entrance.
Robin Magus, shrouded in her black robes, glared at them all with her glowing yellow gaze. She came no more than two steps into the nave. "Unfortunate as it may be, we are reunited. Now let us get to the Citadel and start the inane formalities so that I can fry some goblins. I haven't burned anything alive in too long and everyone is starting to look like a potential torch."
To Valor's side, Sana-Lynn shook her head, exasperated. "It is nice to see you too, black mage."
Robin growled, twisting her charred rod in both hands. "Spare me your inept sarcasm, lesser mage. Let us be off!" she shouted and whirled around abruptly to leave the chapel.
Used to her outbursts, Valor simply gave a bow to a startled Sister Nadine. "A pleasure to meet you, Sister," he said and then went to follow after the black mage.
Sana-Lynn stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, however.
Hesitant, the blond girl bit her lip. "Sorry, Valor, but I sort of promised Sister Nadine that we would leave a donation. I… don't have any gil on me though."
Valor quickly nodded. "Oh, of course." He went for his coin purse.
"Oh right," Gantz piped. He produced a small leather pouch, jingling it. "You'll want this back."
Despite fostering patience and calm all morning long, Valor's face reddened considerably and his jaw clenched. "You dare to steal from me!" he erupted.
The thief just pointed at Valor's rage-filled countenance. "Oh how I have missed that face."
"You'll be missing more than a face when I get my hands on you!" Valor roared.
Gantz just jutted his chin out tauntingly. "You'd never catch me, Lord Bunghole."
Sana giggled at Valor's side, smiling when she noticed the incredulous look on Sister Nadine's face. "Yes, Sister, we actually are the four Light Warriors."