The stay in the fort was uneventful, and they continued their journey to Asterfal early the following day. They would only be in Amashari for an hour before leaving the territory. This would move them into the territory Asterfal sat in. The territory was much larger than those surrounding it, and it would take a further day and a half to reach the city, with another overnight stay in a local town. SJ was nervous about entering the Asterfal territory, knowing it was a level 30-40 area. Zigferd had tried to allay her fears. The city watch constantly patrolled the major routes, and there were checkpoints along the route they would pass.
As they approached the border, the mist still hung in the air, and SJ could only see the brighter skies by looking into the distance. Her display triggered.
You have entered the territory of Neturian. Level bounds are 30-40. Please confirm your eligibility.
On crossing the border, the scenery had changed instantly. Bright skies immediately replaced the marshland and mist, and ahead of them was a landscape that reminded SJ of the Scottish highlands. A rugged landscape, towering mountains, rolling hills, and deep valleys unfolded ahead. In the distance, SJ could see shifting clouds at the mountain peaks, and the weather reminded her more of the UK than any she had witnessed in Amathera. The skies didn’t have the crystal bright blue of Killic, but the murky faded blues of the UK with their intermittent cloud and a breeze blew across the land, with the occasional burst of sunshine.
The path they followed was narrow as it led up into the hills. They had not been on the road long when they reached a checkpoint. The stone building was sitting by the side of the road, and outside on the road stood two guards wearing the colours of Asterfal. SJ recognised them from the uniforms that Fizzlewick had made for the new chancellor. They were blue and golden, covering chain mail armour, wearing bascinet helms with the mail clipped across the front, only showing their eyes. Both guards carried pikes and held them crossed across the track.
“State your business,” a human guard called as Alef stopped the coach.
“We are en route to the city. I carry the mayor of Killic for the annual inauguration ceremony,” Alef replied.
At the mention of Zigferd’s title, both guards lifted their pikes and stood to attention.
“You may pass. Safe travels,” the guard replied.
The coach they travelled in had Killic’s standard painted on it—a picture of a great axe surrounded by laurel leaves. Killic’s officials only used this coach, and Alice usually travelled to Asterfal.
Alef spurred the horses on again. As the track continued into the hills, winding through the valleys, they came upon checkpoints every few miles. SJ was amazed at how many posts they had along the route. Considering the size of the territory, there must have been a significant guard force permanently on patrol across the region.
By the time they reached the town where they would stay that evening, they had crossed one mountain range and dropped into the lower foothills, heading towards a further mountain range in the distance. The town was nothing like Killic. Surrounding the town was a fifteen-foot-tall stone wall. SJ could see the tops of the houses inside and smoke rising from chimneys. The four guards at the gate didn’t wear Asterfal’s uniform; instead, they wore deep burgundy cloaks covering scale mail and reminded SJ of Roman foot soldiers.
The streets were wide and cobbled, and even in the fading light of the day, the sounds of the town brought a feeling of normality to SJ. Pulling up outside a large inn, Alef hopped down and opened the door.
“Leave nothing in the coach. I will park it at the stables and sort the horses out,” he said.
SJ hadn’t planned on leaving anything in the coach, but Alef’s warning gave her cause for concern.
“I assume there are thieves in the town?” SJ asked quietly.
“Enough to make sure you monitor your belongings,” he replied, smiling.
Zigferd climbed from the coach, picking up a satchel he carried the parchments in. Checking the inside of the coach one last time, he closed the door. “All clear, Alef.”
“Thanks. I will be back in a while,” Alef replied.
The inn was a two-storey building that was narrow at the front. Walking inside through the large wooden door reminded SJ of a Viking longhouse. Surrounding the main floor area ahead of them was a balcony, and off the balcony were doors leading to what SJ assumed were the rooms. It stretched back a fair distance and was lively. The clientele was mixed, looking around the inn, and as they entered, several turned and looked in their direction. Zigferd stood tall as he walked towards the bar at the room’s far end. SJ and Cristy followed.
“Who let that in here?” SJ heard an elf say as they passed a table.
“Not sure, but it looks like she has a dog on a leash with her,” another replied.
Laughter broke out from around the table where they were sat.
“Ignore them,” Zigferd said in a low warning tone.
SJ could feel her cheeks redden as they walked past the table, biting her lip not to respond. That was when there was a cry, and SJ and Zigferd turned around to see Cristy holding a now-empty tankard of ale that she had just flung in the elf’s face.
“Sorry. I tripped,” Cristy said as she placed the tankard down.
“I’ll show you tripped,” the elf said as he stood, reaching for a blade at his belt.
Before the elf even finished standing, Cristy had equipped her bow, had an arrow nocked, and held it drawn inches from the elf’s throat. SJ watched as the elf paused and stopped reaching for his blade.
Zigferd let out a sigh and stepped forward. “I am sorry for the accident. Maybe this will ease any issues,” he said as he flicked a silver piece onto the table.
Another grabbed it as it bounced, biting into it. “It’s real,” the human said to the elf.
The elf sneered at Cristy. “It’s a good job. I am in a good mood today,” he said.
Cristy just raised an eyebrow at his comment. Her look was emotionless and flat. It was the first time SJ had ever seen this side of her. She knew she had been training with Darren and maturing at a ridiculous rate, but her look was that of a hardened warrior, not a gnoll going through their age of development. She slowly released the tension on the string.
“Cristy. Come on,” SJ said, placing her hand on her arm.
Cristy removed the arrow and dropped it back into her quiver, shouldering her bow rather than putting it in her inventory. SJ wished she had changed the colour of her dress before entering as the green stood out amongst the throng of beings.
Zigferd flashed a telling look at Cristy as he continued to the bar. Cristy’s ears flattened slightly from his gaze.
The group, who had been abusive towards SJ and Cristy, returned to their drinking, calling a barmaid over to refill their tankards and telling her to keep doing so, handing her the silver coin.
“That was lucky,” Dave said.
‘Why?’ SJ asked.
“The lowest on the table is level 28, and the highest is 37.”
The realisation of the levels of the beings in the inn struck home, and SJ suddenly realised that they would have to be careful. She knew she could fight well, and her attributes were like a being of a higher level with their boosts, but she didn’t think that even with Zigferd’s help, they could combat beings at that level.
“Cristy. You need to be careful. The beings here are at much higher levels than we are used to in Killic, and you are still in your youth,” SJ whispered to Cristy.
“I won’t stand anyone saying anything bad about you,” Cristy said.
SJ had thought Cristy had reacted to the dog on a leash statement, not the comment directed at her. “There is no need to worry about me. I ignore idiots,” SJ smiled.
“We will require four rooms for the evening, meals and breakfast,” Zigferd told the dwarven barman.
The barman didn’t even look up at Zigferd. “45 copper,” he replied as he finished drying a tankard and adding it to a stack behind the bar.
“Do the doors have locks?” Zigferd asked.
This got the dwarf’s attention. Squinting at Zigferd, he responded, “That be one silver.”
Zigferd removed a silver coin and passed it to the dwarf.
“Follow me,” the dwarf said as he turned and walked through a door at the end of the bar.
Zigferd followed, paying no notice as SJ and Cristy shared a look, frowning at each other as they followed. They entered a short corridor with another door at the end. The dwarf knocked on the door, and a small viewing hatch opened. The face of an orc looked out. Seeing the dwarf, he immediately withdrew a bolt, which allowed him to pass through, followed by the three.
The room they now entered was in complete contrast to the bar at the front of the building. The area was immaculate and neatly laid out with regal-looking furnishings. A highly polished bar ran along one wall, and a male gnome stood behind it. The clientele at the tables were well dressed and didn’t even look up from their meals or drinks.
The dwarf turned to leave, and Zigferd addressed him as he did. “Our coach driver, Alef, will join us when he arrives.”
The dwarf nodded in response before returning to the front bar.
“Well, this is unexpected,” SJ said, following Zigferd to the bar.
Zigferd just turned and smiled.
The gnome looked up as Zigferd approached. “Zigferd,” he said in a spritely voice.
“Grevis. How have you been?” Zigferd said.
“Very well. Very well. I am guessing you would like your usual room?”
“If it is available. The other baths are too small for me,” Zigferd chuckled.
“Indeed. Indeed. I assume Alef is with you?”
“He is. He will be here shortly.”
“And these two ladies?” Grevis said.
“SJ and Cristy. They will both require rooms with baths.”
“Of course. Of course. I will get onto it straight away. Rhysil.” Grevis called.
A slender boy appeared from what SJ assumed was the kitchen area. “Yes, Grevis.”
“Can you please arrange four rooms, with baths drawn? Zigferd here takes the third.” Grevis said.
“Will do,” the boy replied as he scampered off towards a set of stairs at the corner of the bar. The ceiling in this area was much lower, and SJ assumed the rooms must be above, unlike the more open plan at the front of the inn.
“Are you expecting guests?” Grevis enquired.
“None.”
“Food?”
“What’s your special today?”
“Venison haunch, marinaded in brumbleberries, seasonal veg and a red sauce.”
“We will take four, please.”
“Excellent, Excellent. I will get them rustled up for you now. Drinks?”
“Three ales and a milk,” Zigferd indicated towards Cristy. SJ heard Cristy mutter under her breath about not being a baby. She couldn’t help but smile. Seeing how she reacted to the elf, she knew Cristy would be a force to reckon with when she was older.
Sitting at the table, Zigferd turned to address Cristy. “Cristy. You must learn to control your temper.”
Cristy frowned at Zigferd’s comment. “Why should SJ have to put up with abuse like that.”
“SJ can defend herself if she thinks it worthwhile,” Zigferd glanced at SJ.
“Zigferd is right, Cristy. Those beings were at much higher levels than we are, and I have learned to ignore the comments of the stupid now. My race doesn’t help knowing what my kind has done over the centuries. I only wish to be seen for who I am, not what people believe I will be. They will learn in time,” SJ said.
“It’s still not right,” Cristy grumbled.
“No, it isn’t, but unfortunately, it is no different to Earth. Some have prejudices against others.” SJ said.
“Killic is an amazing town. We are a multi-racial town with no issues. Most towns and cities that have multiple races also have long-standing issues. You will come to recognise this in Asterfal.” Zigferd said.
Cristy didn’t respond, picking up her glass and drinking it, leaving herself a white moustache. SJ couldn’t help but chuckle at her. She still had so much to learn about life. What SJ may not know about the different races was at least offset partly by her life experience. Cristy had only just turned five, after all. SJ had asked Dave how long gnolls lived and had been shocked to discover that gnolls usually lived until their seventies. The thought of her virtual endless life compared to Amathereans was concerning. She knew that with everyone she met, the chances were that she could live longer than them. It was a sobering thought that she would have to get used to.
Alef eventually joined them, and when he did, four enormous plates of food were brought over. The venison haunches were delicious, the meat falling from the bone and married perfectly with the accompanying vegetables and sauce. One thing that SJ still hadn’t got used to was the overall quality of the food. She had initially imagined that food would be mediocre at best after being spoiled by Floretta in Killic but had realised that the standard of cooking was exceptionally high.
“The baths are drawn,” the young boy said, strolling to the table.
“Thank you. Could you show me to my room?” SJ said, standing.
“Of course,” the boy replied. He must have been no older than ten, looking at him. SJ followed him as he led SJ down a corridor and some stairs with various doors leading off. SJ was trying to consider the size of the inn from the outside. It must go back a substantial way. The boy opened a door and showed SJ a comfortable-looking room with a large steaming bath by a fireplace.
“Here,” SJ said as she took some copper from her inventory and handed it to the boy.
“How much did you give him?” Dave asked as the boy closed the door.
“Not sure. I just gave him some copper. Why?” SJ asked.
“That’s probably more than he earns in a month,” Dave chuckled. “You will have just become his favourite patron.”
SJ had not been short of coin since she arrived in Amathera. She received some lucky drops and then completed several quests, which left her on the more affluent side of those in Killic. Now, though, she was beyond rich regarding any normal Amatherean. She hadn’t considered it always being in Killic with the people she now treated as her extended family. The wealth had come from the mithril mine. As soon as mithril bars began to be sold at the auction house, her wealth increased exponentially.
The agreement with Zigferd was that for every 1kg bar of refined mithril sold, SJ would receive 3% of the sale value. With Alice controlling the auctions, the average mithril bar had been selling for 12.2 gold. SJ received anywhere from thirty-three to thirty-nine silver for every bar sold, and with an average of 8 bars being refined each week, SJ was earning between 2.5 and 3 gold per week. There was no way she could spend the money in Killic, and she had been saving it, hoping to look at enchantments in Asterfal for the slots on her equipment. She currently had just short of thirty gold in her inventory.
Climbing into the deep, warm waters of the bath, SJ lay back and relaxed. Her stay at the fort had not given her the comfort of a regular inn, and she relaxed while soaking in the warm waters. A while later, there was a knock on her door.
“Yes,” SJ called.
“It’s Zigferd. May I enter?”
“Please do.”
SJ was sitting at a table working on the trousers she had been sewing.
“What’s wrong?” SJ asked.
“Nothing is wrong. I have come to discuss Cristy,” Zigferd said.
“Cristy?” SJ asked, surprised, putting her sewing down and facing him.
“I know you brought her so she can visit her relatives in Asterfal.”
“Yes.”
“I need to make you aware that if I am successful in speaking to the Carlati clan, and if they will accept her as a Beast Warden, she cannot return with you to Killic.”
“What? Why not?” SJ replied with angst.
Zigferd raised his hand to soothe her. “It is not a bad thing. If they accept her, they will take her to the conclave, where she will be trained in the ways. I cannot train her, nor do I know a Beast Warden who could. Their secrecy is legendary even amongst the lycanthrope.”
“Why are you telling me this now and not when you mentioned the class.”
“I didn’t want Cristy to be aware of me. If it is an option, and only if, as there are no guarantees, I thought you might be the best person to speak to her about it. She treats you as her sister. I have never seen a stronger familial bond.”
There was truth in Zigferd’s statement, but it pained SJ to consider not having Cristy in Killic. Since she had begun her age of development, she had been attending the training grounds daily with SJ and Darren. Never mind how she would feel about not seeing Patch or the pack. Cristy had wanted them to follow them initially, and it had taken SJ much persuasion to stop her from doing so.
“I am not sure she would leave Patch,” SJ said.
“I would not have mentioned the class if I didn’t believe she may be considered. The affinity she has with the dire wolf is unheard of. I only hope that the Carlati are receptive, as they shun most outsiders, even lycanthrope.”
“Thank you for letting me know,” SJ said, concerned about how she would bring the topic up with Cristy if the need arose. They would be in Asterfal for a week. The inauguration ceremony was held over three days, and then they would be attending two days of regional council talks. The other two days, Zigferd had agreed to allow Cristy and SJ time to look around Asterfal. Cristy would stay with her aunt and uncle while they were there. Cristy had sent them letters after her father’s death, and they both worked as coopers for the Brewers Guild. Their work did not allow them time to travel to Killic.
“She won’t be happy,” Dave said as Zigferd left.
“I know,” SJ said, sighing deeply.
