Jeremiah’s Tale, part 8
Four months later:
Jeremiah made his way past empty farmhouses and deserted fields. This was good, fertile farmland, in a valley carved by a small river where people had tended their crops and herds for thousands of years. And yet it now lay abandoned, fields untilled and pastures overgrown.
He followed the road across the valley until he came to the steep stone ridge of a long mountain that rose up on its eastern side. At the mountain’s base, finally, he found life; the fields here were sown with the early crops, and cattle grazed in seeming contentment. The farmers and herdsmen that he saw, on the other hand, seemed nervous, glancing often towards the west.
The road switchbacked its way up the mountainside, and Jeremiah climbed up it towards the walled town above. This was a new thing; the town of Riha had once stood beside the river, but over the past few years the homes and shops of the old town had been disassembled, stone by stone and brick by brick, and hauled up to the top of the mountain to be rebuilt behind the safety of thick stone walls.
Finally he reached the gates of the town, and there he found a curious sight. The corpse of a giant winged lizard had been nailed to the walls beside the gate, its wings extended to their full span of nine yards, its head hanging down limply and its body showing multiple deep wounds. Beneath one wing was tacked a notice scrawled on heavy paper:
This vicious DRAGON
killed by commission from the Lady Terese of Riha
by the Company of Valdemar ErikssonThis Company is now seeking to hire
Monster Hunters and Adventurers
to seek BOUNTIES and TREASURESInquire at the Inn of the Jealous Monk
New Riha Town
“Dragon,” Jeremiah muttered, shaking his head in amusement. He asked one of the gate guards for directions, and made his way through the narrow cobblestone streets to the inn. The innkeeper directed him towards a large man with thick blonde hair and a long mustache and beard who occupied a booth in one corner.
“Are you Valdemar Eriksson?” Jeremiah asked.
“I am,” the man said, speaking Corellian with a strong Skyfheimer accent. “Are you looking for work?”
“That I am,” Jeremiah said, taking a seat across from the Eriksson. “The name’s Jeremiah Black.”
Eriksson’s eyebrows lifted at that. “I’ve heard of you,” he said.
Jeremiah stiffened slightly. “Have you now?”
“Yes, I have. There’s a price on your head, you know, on the other side of the Deadlands.” He chuckled. “A ridiculously small price. You should be insulted.”
Jeremiah relaxed a little. “So you’re not keen to collect it?”
Eriksson snorted. “Seriously? I’d spend more getting you there than I’d make from the bounty. Besides, from what I heard you were just tweaking the noses of some lords who seriously deserved it.”
“Yes, well. I’ve given that up, anyway.”
Eriksson nodded. “Less need of it on this side of Windemer anyway,” he said. “Take the Lady Terese here. She’s been a good ruler for her people. Spent a lot of her own money getting them all moved up onto the mountain, where it’s safer. Spent more of it paying us to kill that dragon. She’s all right.”
“You mean the wyvern?”
“Ah, well, that.” Eriksson’s eyes twinkled. “You know, and I know, that it’s really just a big wyvern. Even a small dragon was three times the size of that beast. But the peasants called it that, and they care less about the name of it than about the fact that it’s no longer raiding their cattle. Which it’s not, thanks to us.”
Jeremiah nodded. “Fair enough, then.”
“So then, you’ve retired from annoying the lords of Western Windemer, and now you’re looking to take up the adventuring life?”
“Actually I was looking to buy a flock of sheep and some land to tend them on,” Jeremiah said. “But my plan had one fatal flaw.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“I have no money.”
Eriksson burst out laughing. “Yes, that has been the downfall of many men’s plans, indeed. Well, if it’s money you’re looking for, my company has an expedition planned that should pay out nicely. If you have the skill and the courage. By reputation you have plenty of both.”
“I have some skill with mana,” Jeremiah admitted. “And cowardice has never been one of my virtues. What’s the plan for this expedition?”
Eriksson leaned in close. “Have you ever been in the Deadlands?”
“I’ve spent most of the last year there.”
The blonde man looked impressed. “Have you now? You know it well?”
“Probably as well as any living man.”
Eriksson nodded. “Then you may be just the man we’re looking for. Come with me. I’d like you to meet the rest of my company.”
Jeremiah followed the other man up a flight of steps to a hallway on the inn’s upper floor. They entered a small room where three other people waited. “I believe I’ve found us a guide,” Eriksson announced. “Jeremiah, these are my companions: Alexandra, Bruunk, and Idelba.”
The other three looked him over. Alexandra was a tall woman with long brown hair, striking blue eyes, and a fair complexion marred by prominent scar on her left cheek, clad in a deep green cloak. Bruunk was a truly enormous orc, seven feet in height, with a broad grin somewhat lessening the impact of the giant yellow fangs protruding from his lower jaw. But it was Idelba who truly got Jeremiah’s attention. She was wrapped in a gray robe with a large hood, which did not quite conceal her whiskered nose or yellow-furred pointed ears or the slitted pupils of her golden eyes. She was a leo, one of the legendary lion-people of the Forgotten Sands, whom Jeremiah had believed a myth.
Alexandra nodded and eyed Jeremiah curiously. Bruunk’s grin broadened. “Pleased to meet you,” he said; he spoke excellent Corellian in a surprisingly pleasant tenor, albeit with an indescribable broad-voweled accent. Idelba’s ears twitched as she fixed Jeremiah with a penetrating stare.
“A dark wizard,” she muttered. “Valdemar, are you sure this is wise?”
“He knows the Deadlands,” Eriksson said. “As for his character, I’ve heard of him. I believe we can trust him.”
“You’ve been in the Deadlands?” Bruunk asked, curiosity evident in his voice. “Ever been in Old Windemer City?”
“I was there not four months ago,” Jeremiah answered.
“You’ve been to Old Windemer and back unharmed.” Alexandra’s voice betrayed skepticism. “How?”
Jeremiah smiled, and made a gesture. His skin abruptly turned grey, and his eyes appeared to glow with a shimmering blue light.
Idelba hissed in alarm, but the orc merely burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s grand,” he said. “The undead look at you and can’t tell you from one of their own!”
“The less intelligent ones, at least,” Jeremiah confirmed. “The smarter ones aren’t fooled, but they can be reasoned with in other ways.” He made another motion with his hands and his appearance returned to normal.
“See?” Eriksson smiled. “He’s our ticket in and out of Old Windemer.”
Jeremiah held up a hand. “Just what, exactly, are you planning to do in Old Windemer?”
“A fair question,” Eriksson said. “In the old days, Windermer City was a treasure-trove of magical items. Weapons, in particular. Many of those items are still there, in long-abandoned fortresses.”
“If it’s the Silver Citadel you speak of, then I should warn you against it,” Jeremiah said. “It’s guarded by a powerful vampire lord. You don’t want to cross her.”
“Good to know,” Eriksson answered. “But we had a different target in mind.”
“Ever been to the Tower of Swords?” Alexandra asked.
“Not inside it, but I know where it is,” Jeremiah said. “So that’s the goal?”
“There are many powerful weapons in the vaults of the Brotherhood of Swords,” Eriksson said. “They could be… very valuable to those who must guard this land and its people from the ever-growing threat of the Deadlands. So yes, that is our goal. We go in, recover as many weapons as we can, and get out. Some we keep for ourselves, most we sell to those who would put them to good use.”
“There is one weapon in particular,” Idelba added, “that belongs to the Temple of the Holy Light in my homeland. The high priestess loaned it to a warrior of the Brotherhood of Swords centuries ago, and it was never returned. I have been tasked with recovering it.”
Jeremiah nodded. “Fair enough. And the pay?”
“One-fifth of the profits after expenses,” Eriksson said. “Which should, I hope, be enough to buy as large a flock of sheep as you wish.”
“Then I’m in, if you’ll have me.”
“Sure, why not?” Bruunk said. “He seems right enough.”
“We do need a guide,” Alexandra added.
Idelba frowned. “I am not entirely sanguine about a dark wizard leading us into that place. I will be keeping a close eye on you.”
“Then it’s settled.” Erikkson extended a hand to Jeremiah. “Welcome to the Company.”