"So, you're off to Stonegard first thing tomorrow?"
Marina hospitably hands another basket of bread around the table that was now very crowded with the adventurers joining the couple for dinner. She glances at Olneo, who silently chews his food and keeps his eyes around the table at the guests the night dragged in so suddenly. She had to mind where she stepped with two beasts by the table gnawing on scrap bones and fish.
"Yep!" Tressa heartily shovels down the nostalgic bouillabaisse.
"My, this is a very exquisite stew!" Cyrus licks his lips and notices some droplets on his cravat with displeasure, "Oh, silly me..."
"The seafood is so fresh! I didn't get to taste much of this last we were here...!" Ophilia smiles warmly at Marina, "Thank you so much for your hospitality on such short notice..."
"Oh, it's nothing... I'm glad to see Tressa is healthy with her new... companions," Marina says carefully as she looks around the table full of characters.
"Hahaha, we're glad to have her, Miss Colzione!" Alfyn says with a hearty grin, "Gee, your cooking really ain't nothing to sneeze at! I could eat this forever!"
"Seems you folks don't live much by the sea," Olneo says offhandedly as he takes seconds from the pot, "Our fish and seafood here's fresher than can be."
"Fascinating. In addition to trade, the fishery industry is indeed a marvel in the Coastlands. Much of their catches even circulate the continent! Even other lands bordering Middlesea cannot seem to compare," Cyrus says as he dabs his cravat, "Atlasdam had a more balanced cuisine with its ample Flatland resources... But I also believe that the climate may be a factor as to why we did not conceive of such seaborn delicacies!"
"Oy, you gonna eat or talk till the cock's crowed?" Olneo points a spoon at the scholar, "Always running your mouth, ain'tcha."
"I-I beg your pardon?" Cyrus is taken aback.
"Lay off, pa, he's just that way," Tressa sighs and then looks to Cyrus, "So, when do we start lessons, teach?"
"Teach... He's your tutor?" Marina looks quizzically to the professor.
"He's been teaching this whole time and we can't stop it..." Therion mutters as he finishes his stew quickly. He wasn't one to savor his food much. He only sometimes took his time with his alcohol, even.
"Yeah, this is a professor from Atlasdam who's teaching me as we're on the road!" Tressa announces like it's no big deal.
"Nn... And whaddayou know about business, mister high professor?" Olneo raises one bushy eyebrow skeptically at Cyrus.
"Oh, er, I am not a professor of mercantilism and trade practice..." Cyrus starts.
"C'mon, Pa! You really think I need lessons for that?" Tressa huffs, "I'm learning magic!"
"...What?" Marina and Olneo both exchange looks and stare at Tressa as if she'd grown three heads, "Magic?"
"Yep! I'm a Gate!" Tressa says proudly. Therion runs a hand down his face, trying not to laugh at her eager folly. Primrose lightly elbows him to keep quiet.
Now Tressa's parents simply stare. Tressa sweats a bit.
"... Well, I'm full!" Tressa announces as she abruptly stands, "I'm gonna head out for a walk! Thanks for the food!"
"Eh, w-wait up!" Alfyn scarfs down his food and scurries after her into the night outside, "I'll go with ya!"
"Oh, I would be glad to help with the dishes!" Ophilia offers profusely, "It's the least I can do after your efforts into this delicious meal!"
"Oh, why, thank you!" Marina smiles a little, "That would be wonderful."
Therion leaves his finished plates on the table as he stands to go out into the night air. The house was a bit cramped with all of them. And somehow, this couple had a guest room available for their lot. So, they would be sardines again. Traveling in this large a group is such a pain.
"Lady H'aanit, would you like to join me for a midnight jog?" Olberic stands, his large frame almost bumping back the whole table with a single movement.
"T'would be mine pleasure," H'aanit stands and so do her beast companions. They eagerly head out the door, though no one was as eager as Tressa, who ran out with a slam of the door.
"... Tressa... a magic user..." Olneo quietly finishes his food at the emptying table with some beer. Only Primrose and Cyrus are left to keep him company as Marina helps Ophilia with the stew pot and other things in need of scouring.
"I assure you, Mister Colzione, it is a more common occurrence than you think," Cyrus says, being a slow eater naturally since he talks so much, "Many Gateways do not manifest their true powers until a certain age. Usually, anything that happens prior is seen as only smaller phenomena, save for cases with exceptional Gates, which can cause disaster with the lack of control in prepubescents."
"... Cyrus, you're not assuring anyone speaking in virtual tongues," Primrose chuckles, "Tressa is a smart girl. She seems to have a good control so far."
"Ahem, my apologies. Well, you need not fear, Mister Colzione, for I will diligently monitor her growth such that no harm shall befall her! I am confident in my track record as a teacher of the magical arts."
"First, it was the Scales, and this Gate business..." Olneo sighs and plucks his mustache testingly, "My Tressa 's got a handful..."
"The Scales? Of Bifelgan?" Cyrus blinks.
"Aye, she'd always had an eye and feel for value. Natural knack that really helps a merchant... Maybe it wasn't just a coincidence..." Olneo turns pensive.
"Fascinating!" Cyrus drops his spoon in his bowl and splashes some stew on his cravat without noticing, "Bifelgan is the god associated with the winds, and sailors will often pray for his favor in allowing them to move their ships to their destinations. And he is the god of merchants... That is interesting indeed. One might say Tressa is truly one of his favored."
"Yeah? Well now she's got people like you and Leon pumping her full of big ideas in a time of danger and disaster!" Olneo pokes Cyrus hard on the chest, "I just want my daughter safe!"
"That is an understandable feeling from a father. But, Mister Colzione, if I may," Primrose interjects suavely, "Tressa is a young woman able to choose her path now. Safety is one thing... but a safe and sheltered life is not for everyone."
Olneo grumbles and downs his beer.
"... Well, you all seem to be taking good care of Tressa...!" Marina says, having been listening as she and Ophilia scrub suds.
"Oh, Tressa is a very nice girl!" Ophilia smiles, "And we wouldn't dream of any harm befalling her!"
"Harrumph," Olneo finishes with his food, "I still have my doubts about you lot. Where've you been since you first left anyway?"
"Oh, far and wide! We sailed up the Frostlands, trekked through the Woodlands and Cliftlands... And then we wound up back here!" Cyrus says rather cheerily.
"Is that so... hum, like my adventuring days..." Olneo's eyes trail towards a pile of memorabilia behind the cashier desk. Various images, either drawn by hand or commissioned from a local artist, capture the beauty of the places he had ventured to once upon a time. They are accompanied by unique knickknacks, souvenirs from his time there. Those days are long past.
"Well, Tressa seems happy... and I guess we do want her to see the world like we did, don't we, dear?" Marina asks with a smile.
…
"Tress?" Alfyn finally catches up with the surprisingly brisk stride of the shorter girl, "Whew, ya really left me in the dust there!"
"Huh? Oh, Alf..." She hadn't even heard him calling for her after all. She was shorter, but she was also always carrying an immense load of goods. Now that she was free of that weight, she could probably walk around all of the town several times.
"What's up? Ya left with a real head of steam," Alfyn chuckles as they resume walking at a more amicable pace.
"Meh, I just couldn't take that air from my folks. They really think I'm still just some kid, even when I tell them I got magic!"
"Hehe, that's pretty normal, ain't it? I remember when my village found out about me bein' a Gate. Gosh, Meryl acted like I was gonna freeze her hand solid for a while! It ain't the most swell."
"That's not what I mean, Alf," Tressa pouts, "I got magic, so they should be glad since I'm proving that I can go out on my own, you know?"
"Oh, oh, I get it... But just bein' a Gate doesn't mean yer cut out for the road, ya know?"
"Oh please. The world is so wide and vast. I bet lots of people go out without thinking and discover amazing things...! And they weren't even Gates!"
They pass over a plank bridge that spans one of the artificial rivulets flowing from the town into the bay. Tressa glances at the moon's reflection in the slow-flowing water.
"... It's why I wanna win that Merchant's Contest in Grandport... I'll show 'em all that I can do it! I can be the best merchant in Orsterra!" Tressa reaches up as though she's going to grab the moon.
"We're rootin' for ya, Tress!" Alfyn chuckles.
…
After a good night's rest with the Colzione family, it's a new day as the rooster crows and the hustle and bustle of the trade city resumes at first light. People prepare the streets for another day of hawking, bartering, selling... everything is very lively, much so that one would forget they had been attacked by pirates recently.
"The towne hath well recovered," H'aanit remarks over their morning meal after her jog.
"Aye, after the pirates were gone, some things are better than before," Olneo rubs his mustache, "Guess we got you lot to thank for that."
"Some actual pay would be nice," Therion grumbles.
"Perhaps I should try my luck at their office again, in that case," Olberic luckily still had that signed page from the Merchant Association for the completion of the bounty.
"Don't let them keep you too long in line. We do have to get moving to Stonegard, after all," Primrose chimes in, "And I'm fairly sure climbing it again will be yet another lengthy excursion..."
She sighs, remembering climbing up the first time.
"Oh boy, the Highlands...!" Tressa chuckles, rubbing her hands together, "I hear there's a pretty good market there since the trade is kinda stagnant. Not everyone can climb those peaks... but if ya do, then you have a great shot of making some top-notch leaf!"
"Ah, that's our little merchant," Marina chuckles as she places down a plate of fish sausage, "Do bundle up. I hear it gets rather windy..."
"Stonegard is a rather new established town in the Highlands, truth be told, despite being the largest settlement," Cyrus begins pontificating before his fork has even reached his mouth, "Compared to an ancient city like Everhold, with roots in the old nation of Ventus, Stonegard can be considered quite modern. The original traders in the area took note of its verdant forests, despite the mountainous region, and so started logging. The origin of the town's prosperity thus comes from wood products, and a quality of wood that cannot be found in any other place on the continent..."
Everyone takes a sigh of relief when he finally takes a bite of food, thus halting his speech.
"Yer not wrong about the market opportunity," Olneo looks gruffly to his daughter, "But you can't forget the Highland rats are a larger menace than the birds even here by our coasts. I want you to come home next time in one piece, you hear?"
"Yeesh, yeah, yeah, I heard you loud and clear, pa," Tressa sighs with a huff, "I'm not a kid, I can take care of myself."
"I know. I'm talking to the adult Tressa right now."
Tressa blinks in surprise and looks to her father's level gaze.
"Plenty of grown men got their lives taken by underestimating the Highlands and those monsters what live in the crags, both men and beast," Olneo says, completely serious, "So, you better take care of yourself, as a grown-up."
Marina softly sighs with a small smile as she covers the stove flame. He's such a difficult man sometimes. But he knows just what say, as always.
"... Yeah, I will, pa," Tressa flashes a big grin and points a thumb proudly at her chest, "I'm gonna make the Colzione name one no merchant can ever forget!"
…
Perhaps the gods themselves were blessing their journey's start to Stonegard. Olberic went, as he said he would, back to the Merchant Association office to procure their promised funds. This time, Tressa came, too. The others loitered a bit, packing more supplies and looking around a seemingly newly rejuvenated Rippletide.
As usual, the office is packed, but the chatter sounded a bit more lighthearted. It made sense since people no longer had to fear for their goods being ransacked by the pirates every now and then. News has it that the entire crew of pirates was undergoing speedy trial with the piracy tribunal, with members from none other than the Association itself. A few of them were put to death. Others were commanded to perform hard labor to make up for all the damages they had caused the townspeople over the course of the years.
It made Olberic think a bit of Gaston's fate back in Cobbleston. For a second, he wondered how that little town was faring. How was Phillip and his mother? Were the guard doing alright?
"Looks good that business is back strong," Tressa looks around with satisfaction, "Here I was, worrying about some plague in the Coastlands, haha."
"Well, the bard did mention it was heaviest in Goldshore," Olberic nods, "It is probably centered there as well."
"Yeah, I guess... And we're going there after, too, aren't we..." Tressa folds her arms in thought, "Guess we'll keep an eye out. And at least we got Alf if anything goes south."
The two of them met with a rather snippy attendant. Olberic was more or less expecting them to renege on their offer, as was warned when he accepted the temporary payment. He might have walked away with nothing, had Tressa not come along. The warrior was used to tripping over himself when Primrose worked her wiles with words and her excellent mood-reading. Tressa amazed him in a similar way, with an aggressive attitude that almost made the attendant shrink an inch or two. They ended up getting a managerial figure who told them flat out that the full sum could not be paid, and that was final. However, with her bartering and persuasion, especially since they did have a lot to do with shooing out the chronic pirate problem, Tressa managed to secure a settlement.
"5,000 leaves. Half," Tressa says with a determined look and Olberic in the backseat.
"We paid you about 500 leaves last it was recorded. 3,500."
"Hey, you're not even meeting me at 50%?" Tressa says with a mean smirk, "Your businesses are up, aren't they? And your fees aren't exactly low. I'd know, since I help my Pa pay some."
"Does rebuilding sound free to you? We have the ticket sellers doing their job out of a shanty," The manager rubs her nose.
"4,500 then, since that'll account for what you already paid us."
This back and forth went on for however long, as Olberic sort of lost attention. All he knew was that, at the end of it all, the two of them walked out of the office with several notes for 4,000 leaves.
"Now that's what I call a skim! Humph, I should've totally gotten that last five hundred..." Tressa huffs a bit, "But I also got him a bit higher, hehe!"
"This is... quite the sum, honestly," Olberic says.
"Ohh, you say that now, but money is like water. It'll slip right outta your fingers if you're not careful!" Tressa grins, "Anyway, let's get ready to move out. We can probably afford a nicer ride and save on the blisters!"
The rest of the crew is pretty happy to hear about the windfall once they regathered at the Colzione post. Olneo even helps them with finding a wagon and reliable ass to help them travel from a good friend of his.
"So how are we splitting that money," Therion brings it up first.
"Equally... For you guys. But I also did get us this bunch here, so I get an extra hundred," Tressa smiles greedily, "Commissions, you know?"
"Like hells that's fair," Therion looks pointedly at her. He looks about ready to rob her.
"Hey, hey, relax! I'm giving it to my folks as payment for the room and board and the ride, too!" Tressa holds the money to her chest for dear life, "Not to mention I paid for the SS Gunther tickets and the inn back in Quarrycrest...!"
"Haha, Tress, you are really money-hungry!" Alfyn laughs.
"Aye, tis doth worryen me on such a youth," H'aanit says bluntly.
"Hey! None of you guys can manage your purses that well, I bet!" Tressa pouts.
"I am fairly conscious of my monies," Cyrus says with confidence.
"More likely that you'd blow it on some books, wouldn't you, professor?" Primrose giggles.
"Uhm, that's about... 4,000 by the eight of us... that would divide much cleaner than 3,900, no?" Ophilia suggests, "And then we can pay back your parents collectively..."
"Ehh, I guess," Tressa pouts a bit as she lays the money out on the table and starts counting.
"I will say, it was impressive watching her match verbal swords with the manager," Olberic nods as everyone keeps their eyes on the money counting.
"You lot ready to go?" Olneo knocks on the guest room door, "Neal got the ass and all hitched. You probably wanna get going before night, eh?"
"Gee, thanks, Pa," Tressa scoops up her share of the money and stows it away, "Not liking the crowd in your place, huh?"
"Hey, who's the upstart itching to go out?" Olneo scoffs gruffly before leaving the doorway.
"... Your relations with your father... are very interesting," Cyrus clears his throat.
"Hm? What're you talking about?" Tressa doesn't look at him as she finishes packing and goes to check on Kuzco one last time.
"They look fine to me, Cy!" Alfyn grins.
"It's just, is it just me or do I surmise a bit of tension..." Cyrus rubs his chin. Everyone else is on the verge of falling on the floor at how he only just figured this out.
"... Let's just get going," Therion rolls his eye as he hurries out. Alfyn darts out after the thief.
"Aye," H'aanit follows after the thief, behind Linde and Hägen. Ophilia and Olberic follow after the huntress.
"Hehehe, you have quite the skill at clearing the room it seems, Professor," Primrose giggles and gives the clueless scholar a pat on the shoulder as she is one of the last to leave.
…
With a cart and ass, it is much easier to traverse the terrain once the party reaches the rocky areas where the sandy beaches stop and turn into hard earth underfoot. The ass from Neal is a real sturdy mule, with plenty of experience. It wasn't even that spooked by Hägen. And it costed a pretty leaf.
"Well, we ended up paying your folks a bit more, eh? But they were so nice, so it's fine!" Alfyn chuckles.
"Tsk, service fees..." Tressa mutters.
"Ophilia, doeth thou truly not wanten to ride?" H'aanit looks to the cleric, who is walking alongside the carriage with the huntress and Olberic on one side of the wagon. Alfyn is walking along the other side with Tressa. Primrose, Cyrus, and Therion sit in the drawn cart.
"Oh, no, I'm fine!" Ophilia chuckles, "Besides, I think this might be better... then we can rotate when we get tired, so we don't wear out the mule!"
"Ohh, good thinking, Lia!"
"Tressa, are you sure you don't want to leave some of your burden here in the cart?" Primrose looks to Tressa trekking with the large pack, "The Highlands can be even more difficult than the Cliftlands."
"It's fine, it's fine! Merchants carry their own all the time, through rain or shine, no mountain too tall to climb!"
"Stonegard is located on a lower area than Cobbleston... But it is accented by ravines that need old bridges to cross..." Olberic rubs his chin, "It has been a while since I surveyed that area in my days as a cadet, however."
"Hehe, I bet you got a lotta stories to tell, Ol'Berg!" Alfyn chuckles.
"Nothing so interesting. I was a rather dull soldier."
"One who rose to become a legend," Primrose adds cheekily.
Linde perks up, as does Hägen. The large cat growls and there is a low sound of scurrying. Highland ratkin can be heard squeaking, ready to ambush.
"... What a bother," Therion grumbles as he stands and hops off the cart, brandishing a new saber he'd skimmed off some guy in Rippletide.
"It seems we do have company indeed," Cyrus glances forward, as their mule stops, "Oh my, rats..."
"Aye, a common sight, though I wish otherwise," Olberic draws his blade.
"Hey, teach, I'll show you what I can do!" Tressa says with confidence.
"They looken mite smaller than rodents by our Woode," H'aanit nocks an arrow on her bow, "Nonetheless... letten us hunten!"
…
Near the north Stonegard Pass, the party stops as night begins to fall after an arduous day off climbing. Here, it is east of the route Prim and the others had traveled last when they descended onto the Coastlands. The remains of an old empire are sparser, but still present. Vestiges from collapsed columns and old flags still stand about in the wind, which begins to pick up its bluster as the sun sets.
"... We shoulde set up camp fore the night," H'aanit points to some sturdy ground, sheltered from the winds by some outcrop of rocks.
"Aye, that would be best," Olberic sighs, "We are not that far from Stonegard, but it is better we regain our energies than go on through the night."
"Oh my, that was quite the trek..." Cyrus groans as he falls flat on his face upon stepping off the cart, "My legs! The have pins and needles!"
"You sat too long and now they're asleep!" Tressa giggles at the scholar's plight, "You barely trekked!"
"Alright, let's whip up a nice dinner!" Alfyn rubs his hands together as he surveys around, "I can probably rustle up a good stew once we get a fire going!"
"Eh? Isn't that dangerous since the fires attract monsters or whatever?" Tressa tilts her head.
"Nay, tis false... With beasts, fire doth keepen those of the nighte away. Whilst alone, tis a risk, but we haven the numbers," H'aanit nods to Alfyn's suggestion, "Searchen for woode we shall."
"Hmm, yes I had heard similar in books regarding simple survival advice..." Cyrus stands and dusts his shirt, taking a few wobbly steps before collapsing onto a rock to sit, "Oof... My, the field is arduous."
As he takes a breather, his eyes trail upward to the wondrously clear night sky overhead. The nebulas and sparkling stars are impeccably visible against the murky night, woven with purples, dark blues, and streaks of whitish milk patterns.
"...But I suppose it has its charms," Cyrus exhales.
"Indeed," Olberic chuckles softly as he arranges a fire pit with stones, "I will never forget the innumerable nights I spent on patrols, just sleeping under the stars."
"In this chill?" Tressa flaps out her sleeping bag, "No way!"
"Oh, let me help you with the cooking, Alfyn!" Ophilia offers.
"Ah, thanks, Lia! I'll look around and see if we can't pick up any mushrooms or something... I got all these herbs here we can put in the stew... Ah, shucks, I got my mortar, but no pot large enough..." The apothecary scratches his head.
"Say no more," Tressa sighs and produces a small pot, large enough for three servings of soup maybe, from her bulging pack, "A good merchant's always prepared."
"Oh thanks, Tress!"
Primrose and Therion sit by the edge of the campsite, where a conveniently crumbled wall of cobbled stones makes for a nice vantage point out to the dark lands beyond. In the night, the mountain is one large shape, with no distinction between pebbles and stones. They keep a close eye on the surroundings in case anything comes prowling.
"Alright!" Alfyn says in triumph as they get a fire going. He places some chunks of ice he made in Tressa's pot and sets that over to melt. Again, Olberic's large frame serves well as a buffer against the night winds at this altitude.
"Hmm... They say the air here is thin and so breeds more robust lungs..." Cyrus takes a great whiff of the mountain air as they wait for the stew to bubble away, "However, it is also remarkably clean to taste!"
"Yea, Zeph's old man once said he'd send patients here to heal up if it weren't fer the monsters and hard climb up, hehe."
"A recuperation retreat hm? That would be also quite the cost," Primrose chuckles wryly.
"You could probably cut down on costs if you worked out an interior transport system!" Tressa says, rubbing her chin as her entrepreneurial mind gears gets grinding, "Making a nice little resort to stay, upkept by investors maybe..."
"Tis soundeth a mite troublesome," H'aanit sighs, dropping off the last of some wood she found from a dead tree. She sits down next to Ophilia and the beasts come to rest by the fire's light.
"Hey, you gotta work for your leaves," Tressa says as-a-matter-of-factly.
"Doesn't always have to be about the money," Alfyn chuckles, "I just wanna help people, ya know?"
"Of course, you do..." Therion rolls his eye.
The stew is soon bubbling and ready to serve. Tressa produces some durable bowls from her pack, which are just smaller pots. They end up sharing over the pots with some spoons from the merchant as well, who truly seems to have just about everything.
"You really carry such a plethora of items!" Ophilia exclaims.
"Well, of course! You never know what people need!" Tressa puffs her chest out proudly.
Therion is pleasantly surprised that the stew didn't taste like just herb sludge this time. Olberic goes and gives the ass some food and water while Hägen and Linde get some dried scrap meat from the rind parts.
"We ought to rest then, in shifts again," Cyrus yawns, "We should be in Stonegard in the morrow. My, how the day flies..."
…
In the mornings, mists cover the Highlands at the highest points, like clouds that descend from the skies to kiss the earth. The group awakens to find a thing film of this mist over their little campsite. They all rouse and get ready to keep going to their destination. Despite the mist, it is still daylight, and they get a better eye at their surroundings.
"Huh, I didn't notice this last night when we came...!" Tressa exclaims as they are about ready to resume moving. She's momentarily fixated on an inscription on some old stone that looks like a remnant of a trail marker.
"What's it say?" Alfyn trots over to look as well.
"Something... shrine?" Tressa squints, "This looks a bit like a different language almost? I get some of the letters..."
"Ooh, allow me!" Cyrus practically skips over enthusiastically and scrutinizes at the worn face of rock, "Yes, it is the word for shrine... perhaps an older variation of the script... but still with some recognition from modern writing... ah, that is the unmistakable word for 'thunder'... My goodness, I do believe we were camping last night by a shrine of Brand himself!"
"Brand? The god of battle?" Ophilia looks up.
"Yes, yes... Many shrines were left abandoned over the years as populations moved away... We must have inadvertently stumbled upon one such site where it stood..."
"Great. Let's keep going," Therion grumbles.
"Now, wait just a moment! I want to at least set my eyes on what may be left of such a relic...!" Cyrus goes into archaeologist mode.
"We haven not such time. And this fog doth boden ill for sight," H'aanit scoffs.
"Perhaps another time?" Ophilia suggests helpfully, "We'll probably be passing by again anyway, right? When we go to Goldshore?"
"That is a good point. Perhaps another time," Olberic nods, "I have rarely paid much attention to these sort of ruins... They all seem to be old bones of the kingdom before..."
"Ah, very well," Cyrus sighs and goes to sit in the wagon, "I suppose time is of the essence."
"Oh, but let us at least pay our respects then...!" Ophilia quips, "I feel it's as if Brand himself was watching over us in our sleep as we took up his doorstep... so it is the least we can do."
Primrose rolls her eyes a bit, mimicking Therion.
…
There used to be an old saying about crossings among merchants. You can find just about anything, even the impossible, at these meeting places.
The posts that denote crossings thus used to be marked with an old symbol for infinite, a symbol related to the winds of Bifelgan, from which none can say came, nor know where they will blow. While this marking and superstition has faded, crossings nonetheless remain something of a place where one never knows what they will encounter. Monsters, death, love, fortune, ruin... even the dead can sometimes seem to return.
As the party nears Stonegard, they come across a crossing area, where some peoples indigenous to the mountains seem to have set up some sort of toll. Primrose eyes them carefully, as per Pequod's tip. However, they don't look at all like the people she is looking for, nor are they dressed in the garb she recognized. She espies a familiar head of silvery hair and her eyes widen. Her jaw drops. Her heart skips a beat.
"Wait, stop!" She shouts shrilly as she launches herself out of the cart before it even fully halted. Her companions stare as she lands without breaking her stride and runs over to that figure...
"Simeon?!" She asks loudly, hopefully.
That head of long, silver hair turns. It's not tied as it usually would be in a low ponytail. He isn't dressed as snappily as he would have been, despite being the gardener, of all people... But he hasn't aged a day... His dark, grey-blue eyes land with surprise on her, recognizing who she is at once. His voice rings in her ears.
"...Primrose?!"
She runs towards him. He moves past the people that surround him, ignoring their existence now. He walks eagerly towards her, picking up his stride. Once she is in his grasp, she moves to wrap her arms over his shoulders. He goes to lift her by under her arms, twirling her in the air before bringing her down into his embrace.
"What the...?" Alfyn stares at the reunion, as do many of the others in their party. Even the crossing people stare, though some carry on.
"... Simeon... Simeon..." Primrose whispers as she holds onto that familiar person, "It's... it's really you... it's you, right? Simeon...?"
Her words are murmured with fervent disbelief and belief at the same time, that she is touching someone, taking in his scent, hearing his voice... a person she thought she would never see again.
"It's me, love, Primrose, flower of my heart... Oh, sweet, sweet Primrose..." He murmurs softly into her brown hair as his hands hold onto her body, which has aged beautifully these ten years.
"Uhh, Primrose?" Tressa walks over, "You know this guy?"
"Obviously..." Therion rolls his eye.
"Oh, why, hello," Simeon smiles affably at the young merchant, "A friend? Are you going to introduce us, Primrose?"
"Uh... oh, yes, sorry, I... uhm..." Primrose pulls off reluctantly, struggling to compose herself as she finds old tears leaking from her eyes. She wipes them away in vain, "T-this... This is Simeon, Tressa... uhm, we knew... I knew him... a long time ago... And, these are... the...the people I'm traveling with..."
"Oh, my pleasure," Simeon bows and the others come to approach, "It makes me happy to meet friends of Primrose."
"Hail," Olberic raises an arm in greeting, "You both seem rather well acquainted."
"Yes, we lived under the same roof for a time when Primrose was young... and now you have grown wonderfully," Simeon looks warmly to Primrose with a smile, keeping a hand on one of her own.
Therion remains near the ass. Something rubbed him wrong about this guy. The dancer, as already established, is a dangerous person. Anyone from her past... could be similar.
"Rrr..." Linde looks confused.
"Whatten is it..." H'aanit rubs the large cat between the ears, glancing to the dancer and the stranger named Simeon.
"What are you doing here? H... How are you here? All those years ago, I was sure you..." Primrose looks breathlessly to Simeon, questions threatening to burst.
"...Maybe we should discuss this elsewhere... I have as many questions as you, frankly," Simeon chuckles. He says some brief words to the people at the crossing. They seem to have been discussing payment for passing through.
"Wait, what?" Tressa balks when it's their turn to pay the toll.
"Well, we maintain the roads and this crossing here, missy," A grizzled mountain man flashes a broken-tooth grin, "Gotta show some 'preciation, ya see?"
"Hmm, that is a fair point..." Cyrus rubs his chin, "Following the divestment and downfall of the major kingdoms in the area, a lot of lawlessness and infrastructural decline has come upon this area. The responsibility falls on the locals to inevitably upkeep their homes..."
"This is practically highway robbery..." Tressa grumbles as she hands over the fifty leaves for their party. She also ended up paying for Simeon.
"Ahaha, thank you little lady. I suppose I underestimated the fees and overestimated my wallet," Simeon laughs airily.
Primrose looks Simeon over. The man isn't dressed in his old fashion of a suit and tux anymore. He's wearing a simple jacket over a shirt and his usual style of cravat and simple knickerbockers with straps. The clothes look a bit worn.
"... Are you working?" The dancer asks tentatively.
"Well, seeking work a bit, haha," Simeon laughs, "My last bit of employment in Everhold was, well, how shall I say... a bit short-lived."
"You have come a long way then," Olberic glances at the shorter man, "Everhold lies even deeper up these mountains."
"Indeed. But one has to inevitably find a way to their daily bread... no matter how humbling," Simeon chuckles, "Thus, covering that fee for me was quite a windfall."
"Yeah, yeah..." Tressa quietly notes that on a mental ledger for this new companion to their group.
"This is such a wonderful coincidence that you get to meet an old friend!" Ophilia chirps.
"We have much to talk about," Primrose holds Simeon's hand as they go to leave the crossing in the direction of Stonegard, "I want to hear all about it."
"Ah, my fair rose, as demanding a mistress as always," Simeon smiles that same way he did ten years ago.
…
Simeon explains how he had been eking out a living within the Everhold Amphitheatre. Primrose seemed to have a different set of questions in mind, but she holds her tongue. They would have time to discuss later, in more privacy away from the others...
"The theatre?" Tressa looks at Simeon, "You're an actor or something?"
"Well, I would say I am more a playwright than an actor... though it seems I am not a good one at that either!" Simeon laughs, "Audiences can be quite fickle."
"So, you basically got nowhere because you suck," Therion grumbles.
"Therion!" Alfyn slaps the thief on the back hard, but with a friendly tone. The thief growls and rubs his sore shoulder.
"I have mostly been pushed aside, in terms of script choice. It seems the theatre master has differing tastes than for the tragedies I espouse," Simeon ruefully sighs and rubs his chin, "He preferred comedies, which are hardly my forte."
"Ah, I, for one, do like stories with happier endings," Ophilia chimes in, "You could try and write those more, maybe?"
"Ah, but that's quite contrary to my personal style."
"Pray tell, what sort of literature do you fancy?" Cyrus asks with curiosity, "It sounds like perhaps High theatre or Middle? Or something else? Everhold is quite an ancient establishment, with an amphitheater from before the Ventus Dynasty's fall."
At the mention of the Ventus Dynasty, Simeon chuckles, "Literature? I do fancy my share of poetry. But nothing so fancy to be called real literature..."
"More than that," Primrose teases his ponytail, "Simeon writes lovely poetry. It's a their own loss if they can't appreciate it."
"Well, the particulars of the amphitheater were more than just poetry or any simple plays... So, I heard some historians recite..." Cyrus rubs his chin, "Similar to the gladiatorial culture of the east, and even that of prize fighters up north, the amphitheater originally served as a place of bloody sport in addition to dramas performed for those who could pay, as well as public shows."
"Well, that's one way to tier tickets," Tressa immediately jumps to the business aspect.
"Ah, enough about that stuffy place. I'm here, aren't I?" Simeon smiles as he shrugs and gives a helplessly charming smile, "I do hope this wasn't that unwelcome a meeting with you all. In this time and day..."
"Nonsense. I still can't believe you're here..." Primrose holds to his sleeve, not having left his side since they met again.
Hägen gives a snort and then paws the ground a bit, sniffing, before running ahead a little and barking twice, then looking out over some foggy cliffs.
"... We haven arrived, it seemeth," H'aanit fans away some of the mist from her face.
Looking down from the outcrop where they stand, they can see a clear path over a bridge spanning a crevasse to another part of the mountain where trees can be seen growing about. A steady rise of rock face and escarpment forms a sort of stairway up to what can be seen as a town, tiered among the uneven mountaintop. Houses dot the ways up and down and people can be seen walking about from this distance. One or two larger buildings stand out, in particular a manor or two at the higher elevations.
Hägen sniffs and gives H'aanit a fierce bark, startling some of her other companions. Hägen was usually very reserved, with Linde being the more expressive beast. He looked strangely agitated right now. H'aanit bends down to ruffle his fur and looks out to Stonegard with a wry look forming, something between a smile and something grimmer.
"... Z'aanta be'en here..."
…
Stonegard is a rugged place, built upon a mountain top rivalling Cobbleston in altitude. The houses here are larger, however, because it has industry to support a higher lifestyle than some village. Mills for the binderies and paper making are some of the largest buildings, built closer to the lumber yards near the greenery that makes Stonegard a unique patch of color amid gray mountains. The other buildings as large are situated at the highest echelons of the mountain, in Stonegard's gated community. While certainly not a resort destination, some nobles did have homes built here, however few. The shadows cast by these manors reach far down the mountain, towards the lower socioeconomic rungs.
None of this registers much to H'aanit as she runs through the streets, reaching the top of the stairs entering the town first ahead of her companions. Hägen is her guide. The wolf seems positively beside himself as he runs about, snout pointed about the air. He startles several passersby who see the large wolf.
"Halt!" Some town watch run out with their pikes armed.
H'aanit doesn't help to quell the commotion much as she barrels between the guards and Hägen. The huntress flips the men on their backs by grabbing and giving their pikes a twist.
"Agh?!"
"H-H'aanit!" Ophilia calls out to the huntress, trying to keep up. Some people skirt away as the party comes through. Others ogle at the stranger who just came and took down two guards, followed by the large wolf and leopard.
"... Oh my, that was quite the entrance," Simeon says with amusement as he and Primrose approach with no real hurry.
"Hmm, yes. She is a strong type of character, isn't she?" Primrose says with something like amused admiration.
"H'aanit, are you alright?" Ophilia worriedly runs up to the huntress, past some nosy people, "Ah, did you just start a fight?"
"They weren to attack Hägen," H'aanit says simply, as if it were totally logical to knock two guy's blocks off for doing their job.
"Uhm..."
"What's going?"
People around start to look a bit funny at them. Tressa hangs back and whistles a bit. The guards on the floor groan and pick themselves up.
"What the hell was that for?!"
"S-sorry!" Ophilia bows and apologizes profusely, "We- We were just passing through..."
"A cleric? Sister, are these..." The guards make a face at the huntress as they stand and pat themselves off, "...Beast people with your company?"
"Y-yes..." Ophilia isn't acutely aware of the tone in their voice, but she knew they were none too pleased.
"Oh, like that one that came last time...?" H'aanit hears someone say.
"Are you on business with the Knights Ardante, perchance?" The guards point a thumb to the east of town, "They came some moons ago with a beast person as well... hadn't seen them since."
"That be'en master..." H'aanit mutters. Ther term "beast person" was strange, to say the least, but it wasn't overtly derogatory so far.
"Hey, hey, everything alright? Any bruised bums that need cream?" Alfyn enters their vicinity with a friendly grin as always, "Sorry about that! We were just in a bit of a hurry, haha. But Hägen here is fully trained and a nice boy!"
The wolf ignores them as Alfyn gestures towards him. Linde rolls her eyes a bit.
"Anyway, you guys stay outta trouble, got it?" The guards seem to let them off with a warning thanks to Ophilia and Alfyn de-escalating the situation.
"Swell move," Therion smirks on the side.
"... That was a rather typical Highland welcome," Olberic towers over much of the other people as he walks over, "Perhaps we'd best gather ourselves first, rather than run in without bearings."
"... Aye..." H'aanit sighs. She was a bit ashamed she had let her excitement get the best of her, for sure. She was normally very composed about her hunt. But Z'aanta... that idiot made her lose her sense of caution in a new place.
Actually, even Hägen is looking a bit confused. He had run about, sniffing around, only to now seem unsure.
"...Something doeth unsettlen here... mayhap... Nonetheless, pardons for mine... thoughtlessness," H'aanit nods to the others.
"My, not at all! I do think this is a rather new experience... Oh my!" Cyrus loses his train of thought to ogle at something interesting, "Would you look at these books!"
He occupies himself by some crates that lay about, probably for rubbish. They are filled with books, among other materials.
"I agree with Olberic. Let's go sit down. We've been traveling up a mountain, after all" Tressa sighs, "Forget the ass, I need a drink!"
"The alehouse then..." H'aanit looks pensive, "Tis a common territory master doth sojourn in."
"Him and many others," Olberic chuckles.
"Come on, you," Therion grumbles as he goes to pull Cyrus by the cape away from the boxes of books for disposal.
...
The Stonegard tavern is not very large, nor busy at this time of day. A heady smell of mountainous spices lingers in the air from drying products on the walls, probably to be used for alcoholic infusions. The barkeeper is busily wiping down some mugs when the party enters. One other person is there, slumped over a table with some grog spilling out of their tipped tankard. A pot of aromatic stew is bubbling away on the stone stove behind the bar counter.
"Hail," Olberic waves as they enter.
"Hm, what can I do you for?" The barkeeper gestures at the larger tables, "Some grog? Mead?"
"A bowl of the broth, and a few bones, mayhap," H'aanit points, "And I woulde liken to asketh thee some questions."
"Gladly. Have a seat..."
The large party sits themselves down, half by the bar and the other half at a nearby table. The barkeeper brings over some bones and a large bowl of the broth before taking orders from the others. Tressa orders some bread and cheese with sweet mead. She's rather annoyed when Alfyn absentmindedly takes some of the food she paid for.
"Some ale, please," Olberic sighs as he lets down his bags.
"Here ya go," The bartender slides a foaming tankard over before looking back to the huntress as she shares some broth with Ophilia, "So? What do you want to ask about?"
"Haven thee a hunter here met?" H'aanit gestures to Hägen gnawing on a bone, "With this here wolf companion? Mayhap he hath passed by a few moons ago."
"Hmm... A hunter like you, lass?" The bartender's eyebrows arch up, "Why, yes, I do believe I remember. But it's been a long spell since I saw him."
"What hath transpired?"
"Well... it was official business with some Knights Ardante, as far as I could tell. They made a small show going through town. As far as they said, they were hunting something... Other than that bit..." The bartender shrugs, "I think they were talking to some local folk. Went near Natalia's house over the town bridge last I saw."
"Hmm... Whatever were they hunting?" Ophilia asks curiously, "That the knights came? It must have been important."
"Some monster. These days, I couldn't guess, Sister," The bartender rubs his chin, "Though, I do say... the Knights left... and I didn't see the hunter with them..."
Primrose notices the huntress stiffen. There were, after all, only so many possibilities when that happens. She felt sorry for her.
"Sounds like a waste of time..." Therion grumbles by the table.
"Maybe go talk to Natalia. She's a nice lass," The bartender suggests.
"Thanken thee..." H'aanit gulps down the broth with hearty appetite and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She looks to the others, "Thou shouldst all resten whilst thou canst... I will seeketh this Natalia on my owne."
"Ah, I suppose I should get to finding that bindery for the book I seek," Cyrus stands, "None of you need accompany me. I may be a while."
"A few days maybe," Therion smirks.
"Primrose, we ought to catch up, don't you think?" Simeon winks to the dancer at his side, "We have much to talk about."
"Ah, yes..." Primrose gives a small glance to the huntress.
"We should get rooms at the inn as soon as possible!" Tressa stands, having stuffed leftovers into her bag for later, "Come on, people!"
"Hey, say, you guys got a sick house or anything I can help at?" Alfyn asks with a friendly grin to the bartender.
"Oh, a doctor, are ya?"
"Uhm, H'aanit..." Ophilia starts towards the huntress as she is about to leave with the beasts. At the last moment, however, the cleric hangs back. The huntress turns to face her, paused by the door as Cyrus walks out. Ophilia finds her tongue a bit paralyzed, then says a consolation instead of what she wanted to convey.
"... Be safe."
"... I shallen," H'aanit nods before walking out. Hägen follows. Linde gives a lingering glance of melancholy to the cleric.
Ophilia sighs.
"You coming with us to the inn, Ophilia?" Tressa speaks up, accompanied by Therion and Alfyn, "Olberic says he's gonna find a stable for our ride and Prim's off with that boyfriend of hers..."
"Uh, oh, yes... That sounds good..." Ophilia nods with a meek smile.
"I'm sure it'll work out for them!" Alfyn grins, "After all, they're all strong!"