“Gunther, I’ve gotten tired of this shit!” Karlson groaned. “We can’t keep doing this.”

  He gave out a small puff of smoke from his wood pipe. The mint mixed with a sour acrid scent from the Tzunn weed was almost suffocating.

  “I know. But the money is good-“ I tried to argue.

  “It’s a damned sob story, just like at Romanoe.” He mentioned, wasting no time in pointing out the similarities.

  “This time it wasn’t some little girl.” I tried to protest.

  “Yeah you’re right.” He said flatly, “it was a noble talking for a scared girl.” He shook his head, taking another deep drag. “She’s going to be offering us that dead family’s farm as a reward, just you wait.”

  Karlson, he was my second, my right hand and always trusted friend. He had never been wrong, except for this moment. As Karlson kicked his feet up on the square table. The old Kalasham pieces are either bouncing up or falling off onto the ground just barely missing the roadside on the side of the inn. A few passersby walked on and past us, the inn itself was empty, so I did the only thing I knew that would quiet him down. I pulled out a bundle, basically a small sack, filled with gold coins. When it clattered against the table top I could practically see his eyes glow.

  “This is our advance.” I retorted, “fifty-eight damned thousand.”

  His eyes stayed wide as they trailed back up to me. As he lowered his legs back to the ground a thought had hit his mind.

  “Did you sign us up for a suicide pact?” He questioned.

  “No!” I exclaimed, “At least I think not.” I answered honestly, or as honest as I could answer back then.

  Karlson’s gaze returned to the sack of coin, his eyes pouring over it although not with greed but something deeper. He pondered on his words, still taking light puffs from his pipe, the long storied thing casting smoke with each breath.

  It was clear that something was running across that bare bald head of his but while the thought did linger it seemed to build onto whatever we had.

  “I know, most deals seem to be as deadly as the plague.” I told him, giving a small sigh as I tucked away the bundle. “But right now, we need to muster everyone.”

  His eyes narrowed at me, an exhaustive sigh leaving his lips as he pressed his finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose. I could see his brows furrowing as he looked down at the wooden table, so I knew that the news to come would not be welcomed to my ears.

  “Okay, what's the issue?” I asked him.

  In a swift moment he leaned back into his chair before letting out one exhaustive breath. “Issue? Try issues.” he answered.

  He took the pipe from his lips and rested his elbow on the table and then.

  Thud, five letters were thrown onto the table top.

  “Letters?” I questioned.

  “Resignations, regrets, contract negotiations, the works O’ friend of mine.” he said resting the pipe on his lips once more. “We’ve hardly got much of a band left, barely enough to make a warband.” he elaborated.

  “Charlie, Jintzin?” I asked him at first.

  “Those two jumped ship, literally.” Karlson responded, “probably halfway across the Nuffan by now.”

  “Timmoine and his Red pact?”

  “Same thing, they went off westward.” he coughed, “said there were jungles and riches to be found.” he explained as the pipe’s smoke hit stronger, nearing the end of what was inside. “Probably dead too.”

  As Karlson’s pipe reached its the end of its fuel, he took one last drag from it before he gave one long, controlled exhale.

  “Well then who do we have?” I groaned, my voice nearly hitting the streets before I quieted down, “Who do we have?” I whispered.

  Karlson took a moment, thinking deeply, as if it needed to be weighed heavily.

  “Well…we have Jerard.”

  “The vagrant with a bow?” I exclaimed.

  “Yeah, but the lessons you gave him with that sword did help him at least seem survivable.” Karlson answered before continuing on, “then there’s Lucas and Saundy’s hot headed ass.”

  “Wait, what about Mallishon?” I prodded, back then she was our more astute doctors in our troupe.

  “She went back home, in fact…what do ya know we’re here at her home.” Karlson chuckled, “oh and don’t even ask about Adrian, he got eaten by habbard hounds last month.”

  “Damned filthy dogs.” I grunted as I slammed my fist into the table.

  I took a moment, my options weren’t as limited as I expected but it was something. I had never thought that I would lose so many men in such a short time, the power of hubris and youth I suppose? But even then I couldn’t afford not to undertake the task, or go back on my word. Blindly, almost clumsily, I looked at Karlson and he saw a fire that was well on its way to blaze.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “I think I can work with that.” I told him.

  “Not without a medic, or some kind of doctor, hell even a charlatan ale drinker can help.” he advised, but as soon as he saw my face, he looked about deterred, “but I can try and find someone…” he relented.

  Hearing his words I finally relaxed, but looking back with what I know now. I grossly underestimated the troubles that would be on our path ahead, a mistake only a novice would make. I guess I still had those tendencies even after all I had seen up until then. The blissful ignorance of youth, how I envy it now. As he tucked away his wooden pipe, keeping it in its respective leather slide, the barkeeps servers had finally come to the table.

  “I’m so sorry about that sir.” he apologized, “that storm did so much in such little time.” they groaned, “but how may I help you?”

  We both looked at him and soon, the same words rang together, “do you sell packing food?”

  Soon, the two of us made our preparations, with arms and armors being picked up and polished. Then came about finding our group. I found Lucas where I often see him most, posted near a guild hall looking for any secrets or rumors, while not the quietest of us he did have a unique way of getting around. Then came Jerard, he was the easiest to find with Lucas’s help. Namely because of his boasts and skills that seemed to ripple across the city’s underbelly. Poaching isn’t a strong means to make friends, even worse in cities populated by many nobles. When I told them of the contract, leaving out only some parts they seemed more than willing. Then again, the promise of gold does change most things.

  But with most of us united, and at a better strength than we were before, there came now the time to wait. For the next dusk would be the day we would set out. But as night came through and I found myself at home alone again in front of that demanding fire. My thoughts were as restless as I was. What would await us up there when we arrived? What would attack simple settlers and minor prospectors? Some aspects of this deal seemed to only hedge more doubt on my mind. But it was too late to back down, far too late now.

  The last thing I wished to leave with any of my men were broken promises.

  So dawn came and went and dusk had finally come.

  I sat outside of the main city walls, just across the Wexler channel near the Wexler stables. A single stump would act as my stool while a simple hooded carriage would hold all of what we needed, provisions for the road, arrows for our bowmen. Swords and whetstones for when our blades grow bitter and worn. Even axes in case we need to break shields or cut down any present tree.

  So many pieces were all too ready, all of them tightly packed down.

  Along the long rocky road towards the stables I saw two of my men, while it was hard to make out their faces, the tabards and pauldrons they wore were recognizable enough. Then as they close in closer I could finally hear their voices.

  “You sure? Thought this mail and plate was damned’ good yeah!” I heard Saundy's thick accent and vulgar words. So expected that if it weren't for his curses he’d be almost unrecognizable.

  “Yes Saudy, unfortunately.” the always tired and bitter voice of Lucas replied, “I’ve seen plenty of armors in my life. That one is a patchy hack job.”

  “Oh go chug on nails.” Saundy replied dismissively, waving his hand and shaking his head.

  “This is better than what you have. By leagues” he even flexed his arms, the muscle pushing out of the gambeson and mail.

  “Cause I don’t need it. Gotta be light, not heavy like your ass.” Lucas snapped back.

  The two of them chuckled, amused by their littler banter, but when they finally were in front of me and the carriage I could see their eyes shifting around. Looking back and forth over the empty stables.

  When I stood up, I gave a small groan. I walked over to the two.

  “Still antagonizing each other?" I asked them jokingly.

  “Oh us? Never.” Lucas answered, a small smirk gracing me. “We’re just having a laugh sir, which reminds me.” he turned to look at Saundy's armor once again. “Doesn’t that armor look a bit botched? I mean if you peel back the tabard.” he asked me.

  “Like I said it ain’t botched, it just has character!” he replied.

  When I looked at the grieves and parts of the chest plate, I could see very obvious discoloration. The kind that stands out when steel is warped or patched with mismatched stock. Parts were black, others a thick tin gray, but his grieves were a strong silvery steel.

  I only asked one question.

  “Did you get this armor from Divernas?”

  Saundy’s eyes lit up as if the name rang louder than bells.

  “Yes! How’d you know?”

  “Because they ripped me off before,” I said, “and I tore up their shop for it.” I tapped his pauldron with my fist. “So if they’re up to their old tricks again I’m sure you can make a ruckus enough to teach them a lesson.” I gave him a small smirk.

  Saundy gave a little cackle, the kind you’d hear a young boy give when he’s trying to play the part of an evil villain from old story books.

  “Oh by Tiafani, please don’t encourage him.” Lucas sighed as he rested his face into his palm.

  “Why not? If he’s going to break anything it’ll be what's up north.” I replied to Lucas.

  “Agreed!” I heard a voice chime in, the simple but relaxed tone that only Karlson could give.

  He had arrived with two more men in tow, Jerard with his idealized style a mustache that curled and a long bow made from fine wood.

  “Well, if he doesn’t break my vambrace again then it will be satisfying.” Jerard added.

  “Ah well hello to you too imposter noble.” Saundy said to him.

  “Fuck you.” Jerard sharply spat.

  While the two went on, their words became a blur as they started to verbally tear into each other and Saundy enjoying every second of seeing Jerard’s face go redder and redder like a ripened onion. I was distracted by something else, this new face, one I hadn’t quite seen before. He looked young, too young, almost a child.

  As Jerard walked on I marched up to Karlson and the kid.

  “So where’s our medic?” I questioned in a whisper, “I know Jerard is a good herbalist but he’s better at cooking than healing.”

  Karlson’s eyes glanced over to the kid and as he did his head nodded toward them. That's when it all started to make sense.

  “You’re kidding?” I asked him.

  “I wish I was, but he did come recommended.” Karlson explained.

  “By whom? His own mother?” I retorted.

  “By our last medic.” Karlson answered with an almost cocky grin.

  It seemed he also knew a lot more than I gave him credit for, I was silenced pretty quickly, hardly prodding any further than that. Then came my interview of the boy who stood looking at the two of us pensively, his green eyes darting between the two of us. The boy tightening the belts on his boots and neaten his scabbard for his knife that sat loosely around his waist.

  I sighed, “Boy,” I called to him. “What is your name?” I asked him.

  “Oh! Uh my name is Judr sir!” he answered, a nervousness hitting his dry and dull voice as he stood erect at attention.

  “Judr? You're a sailor's son?” I wondered curiously.

  “No, my family was from the western frontiers and my mother taught me how to scavenge and heal wounds.” he answered earnestly.

  “Good, we don’t have the need for sea legs.” I said, “can you use a sword? A mace?”

  “I can, but not too well.” he said.

  “Well then glad you have Karlson and Saundy to teach you the ropes.” I replied as I started to walk away, “it’s going to be cold so hopefully you packed thick furs.”

  For once, I felt that we were ready. Yet knowing what I know now, I should have held doubt in my mind. More controlled, far more restrained but instead I let someone else’s vengeance cloud my mind. That and desperation are two deadly combinations.