Shadows Over Nothross -- Chapter 2

They were “a completely forgettable adventuring party”. Or maybe a “The nameless league of extraordinary adventurers”. Maybe not, they sure weren't the only nameless group, and not into grandiose names anyway. Or maybe “yet another mercenary group.” No, not that in million years. None of those.

Since Facyr Tann, Faira Ativel and Gnedrnygr Adithebadoggr loved to do adventurous and daring things together, and there was always some jobs for cunning and resourceful adventurers, Jenyr Adatel had helped his good friends to form an adventuring company. Anchorfall had always been the city where adventurers, mercenaries, and other people with the need to do daring things for fame and fortune had headquarters in. It had always been somewhat disorganised, save perhaps for Privateers of Varmhjelm. After the Revolution, the Regent had worked hard to establish some rules; city full of people with sharp swords and skills to use them needed some regulation.

The friends, as a whole, found the incorporation a Necessary Evil. Incorporation was mostly just a formality; the town was full of groups of mercenaries of varying levels of association anyway. The incorporation felt unnatural to them, they were, above all, friends and brothers in arms, not really mere business partners – there were plenty of groups in the city, after all, that did this sort of jobs just for money. But they didn't let the arrival of formality and finances to hamper their friendship, and that was all that mattered.

They were already bound in the way they did things; now they just had a legal name to their operation. Or, as it happened, lack of name, which clearly annoyed the filing clerk who rather hoped all mercenary bands had invented some business name for themselves, which made the life of filing clerks much easier in general. Jenyr never really came up with a name for the company, and the others weren't really good sources of suggestions, and preferred not to pick a name in any case. Everyone else called it “Jenyr's Company”, which Jenyr himself resented – after all, he never participated in anything that happened outside of the city – that was most of the cases – and secondly, and most importantly, he already had a pay job at the City Guard.

At least incorporation allowed them to advertise their services as “a crown-sanctioned swords-for-hire enterprise”, which was better than the services who advertised themselves as “a bunch of ruffians who do anything messy for a few ducats”. They never needed to really advertise their services or anything – Faira was certain that every time she poked her nose outside of the house, someone would be offering them a job. She even had, when going to the Laughing Fox to have lunch, the habit of saying “I'm sorry, people, our books are full for the next four months” before she slumped on her usual chair. That comment either made a number of people walk back to their seats disappointedly, or, very rarely made the other patrons to look around and wonder whom she was addressing.

At Wilhelmsroad 20, a nice house with a nonchalant plaque at the door reading “Adventurers for hire”, a conversation was taking place. Even when they were busy with a lot of projects, Faira was happy that Facyr brought the job right in the house, and introduced the two gentle elves to his two friends. They were discussing around the fireplace, with morning rain slapping the windows. Facyr was happy to have gotten home just in time; undoubtedly, Jenyr was now either getting wet or cursing under some eaves somewhere, trying futilely to get his pipe lit.

Facyr listened to the Valntathalen family's tale. He came to the conclusion that Valntathalens weren't particularly fond of all of the formality; the little bits he knew of elves seemed to say the fairer folk didn't care much of formalities, anyway, at least not the kind of formalities humans seemed to love. To them, it seemed, style and royal grace were in their natures, while the pomp around human royalty always seemed somehow constructed and artificial under the surface.

Even when Aleln Valntathalen was a distant relative to the reigning King of Furinel and was responsible for running things in one quarter of the kingdom, it was difficult to tell what made him so royal in first place. Aleln Valntathalen was more of an explorer. He was a lord of frontier lands. In the middle of the mountain woods with lots of monsters everywhere, practicalities went ahead of formalities. Facyr had seen the same thing in humans before, when dealing with frontier lords of his land of birth, Grycia. Facyr found Aleln to be a quite relaxed person, yet he showed tact, sensibility, manners and quite a bit of refinement. Aleln came across as a friendly, sensible fellow who could lead people if the occasion needed – somewhat unlike of his colourful, sometimes brash and vulgar human counterparts of office, who merely could lead the people because everyone saw they had been handed the biggest axes.

“I thought the northern frontier had no duke any more”, Gnedrnygr Adithebadoggr said. He was an old man, but like most magicians of Colemian descent, his body was magically preserved and he looked not much different from middle-aged people of Varmhjelm, apart of being slightly smaller stature and of more stockier build. His mind was still youthfully energetic and brilliant as ever. He sat by a window and listened to the discussion, putting half of his attention to that and the other half to reading a tome describing the history of the Duchy of Nothross. He puffed smoke from his pipe, and the smoke drifted off to the rain outside through a big crack in one of the window panes.

Aleln shoot his head. “I'm merely a duke in exile. City of Nothross was overrun by monsters mere two years ago – do you think everything we stood for fell with it? It takes a longer time than that to truly destroy something we spent centuries to build, don't you think? Over the two years we've taken considerable time and effort to reorganise things to mount a counterstrike. Can you imagine how hard it is to destroy the monsters of each and every significant location of the most treacherous and hostile quarters of our kingdom, especially during an economic recession? I've felt the chilly grip of poverty grabbing my shoulder.”

“So you had to trade the golden forks to mere silver ones?” Facyr grinned weakly, and even when Aleln looked at him with a bit icy look, his grin calmed the elven lord enough to bring him to good humour once again.

“Worse than that, really, I had to sell most of the little other possessions we had. For a time I was lodged in the summer residence of Duke of Westholt, and, you know, he's known for collecting the most boring books ever written. I received a heavy blow to my senses every time I stepped in the library, which connected every room in that manor”, the duke said, and everyone present chuckled. “In any case, war effort is now progressing well. We've made great progress over the past year, and the recent offensive solved almost all of our problems. All that is left to do is to destroy whatever monsters stand in our way in one fell swoop, reclaim my castle and destroy the usurper. It is these few last steps that have proved to be quite difficult.”

“I'm just curious,” Faira said. The black-clad, raven-haired lithe woman stretched and sat up in a bit more suitable position on her chair in the corner of the room. More suitable, in this case, meant that she finally got her legs off the table – that had clearly been an etiquette breach when there were nobles in the house, though she had long ago figured out they didn't mind. “How and why did you come to choose us for this mission? Isn't the world full of really nasty mercenaries anyway?”

“Ah”, Aleln said with a smile. He looked at Faira, not sure if she just feigned ignorance, or was just honestly curious. “Two reasons, actually. Firstly, the Varmhjelmian diplomats recommended you. The King has the habit of discussing about really bad news that cannot be solved immediately over the supper. I was visiting the capital to explain the current situation in Nothross, we were discussing various people who had already failed in the task, and the Varmhjelmian ambassador recommended you. He holds you in high regard, saying he respects the heroic deeds you did during the Varmhjelmian Revolution and the war that followed.”

“Very kind of him to think so”, Facyr said with a big smile. “I was already worried people would have forgotten us. Seems to me the memories of most folks don't stretch all the way back to three years ago!”

“Then there was another reason – Duke of Bluebrook holds you in high regard, having good... even cordial relationships with you”, Aleln continued.

“Well, that is true”, Facyr said with a smile. While he had not met Thalimve Lucien yet, Gnedrnygr had spent a lot of time in the vast libraries of Castle Bluebrook before the war, and despite all sensibility – love is blind, they say – it seemed the Duke and Faira were getting along rather well. Facyr pondered this for a few passing seconds, and then decided to skip to more pressing matters. “Can you tell us what exactly are we up against? I have only heard vague rumours about the state Nothross is right now. City in ruins, monsters everywhere?” he asked Aleln.

“Actually, it isn't quite as bad as it sounds. Late in Springbreak, I led three regiments of Mighty Lancers to the city, and it remains in our hands now. Half of the city is still desolate, uninhabitable battlefield. The other half is being rebuilt, and people are returning to their homes. Our real problem is the castle where the wizard plots and his monsters multiply.”

“Can't you just lay siege on the castle?” Facyr wondered.

“It's pointless. The creatures don't seem to come out of there except when they're trying to raid the village. And they seem to be getting supplies somehow. Perhaps there's a tunnel we don't know of yet. They also seem to be getting supplies by air. Last month, we found from the woods a broken kite-like machine that seemed to be light enough for one of these creatures, perhaps able to carry a considerable load of supplies. We also shot one down merely two weeks ago, it was piloted by one of the small creatures, wearing some kind of a mask to allow them to breathe, and it was hard to shoot down since they were flying high near clouds.”

“And here's probably the most crucial question I have: what creatures are we dealing with here?”

Aleln seemed troubled by the question. Gnedrnygr smiled and said, “Same things we've seen everywhere, Facyr. Goblinoids, if I'm guessing here.” He glanced at Aleln, who seemed stung – only a little bit – by the names of creatures Gnedrnygr had uttered. He leaned closer to his friends, and whispered, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “just know that the elves find goblins, goborcs and especially orcs so detestable they don't speak of these creatures by name, and I don't blame them.”

“It is no problem at all to mention them”, Aleln said, eyes closed and letting out a quiet, worried sigh. “In any case, several capable groups of warriors, and even lone assassins, have tried to get into the castle and kill the wizard. All of them came back scarred, slashed, and often very dead. There are just too many of these creatures. They're alert, they have spies everywhere too.”

“Which leads to the obvious question – what makes you think we will succeed in what others have failed at?” Faira asked.

Aleln thought. “I don't know. All I know is that you're, by reputation, great warriors. And there's one more thing in your reputation – you're also listeners. Most of the people we've sent so far have always been self-reliant, perhaps overly so. Perhaps it's time we send in mercenaries who are able to learn from the mistakes of their predecessors.”

“Now, I'd like you to tell me more about this wizard”, Gnedrnygr said and listened carefully while thumbing the pages of the book at hand. He was greatly intrigued by all of the things the nobles were talking of, and his fraction of attention to the book was mostly now focused on the pictures.

“He is called Jaxtomsyn”, Realn said. The wind howled through the broken window, and a from a good distance came a crack of lightning. Faira and Facyr looked at each other, closed their eyes and sighed, the trick of nature bothering them both. “We know very little of him, aside of the fact that he's an Evoker from Colemian school, like you”, Realn told Gnedrnygr. “He seems to be able to somehow... formulate... the creatures he uses against us. There seems to be an endless supply of them no matter how many fall to our lances and swords.”

“Hmm, this is curious. In Colemia, we do have some spells to increase the breeding rate of orclings, but they are not particularly well known, or available to magicians at large.” He scratched his head. “I have a suspicion, but I can't discuss it - suffice to say, for now, that keeping my suspicions secret doesn't harm the expedition in any way. Just a rather unpleasant part of the history of my old home country.” Gnedrnygr grinned. “It's the same sort of thing as with you elves and mentioning the creatures you fight against. But as for the magic itself, it is, indeed, dangerous to handle.” He leaned back and looked far too relaxed to talk such complex and difficult matters.

Faira slumped further, leaned back and grinned to herself, again getting her feet on the edge of the table. She had figured out that Gnedrnygr had somehow found oranges from the marketplace. When Gnedrnygr was overly cheerful when discussing dark matters such as these, it was a sure thing that he had been eating a lot of sweet things, and Gnedrnygr, being from the southern lands, just loved oranges.

“Still”, Gnedrnygr continued, “even wielder of such powerful magics have fatal weaknesses. It may be that he has somehow found a powerful magic item or forbidden tomes of spells, but is not able to use too difficult magic himself.”

Faira leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest. “What exactly do you propose we really should do once we get there?” she asked. “I suppose you have tried everything else already. What seems to be the way that works best?” Faira was already thinking of all sorts of tricks on how to sneak in: Maybe over the wall in the shining pale moonlight... though that approach might not work too well.

“It is entirely possible for a smaller group to get in the castle courtyard, all that needs is some planning and a surprise attack. We are more afraid of staying alive once we get in”, Aleln said.

“After all, that's where the creatures are staying, judging from all signals.” Realn said. “And, judging from the show of lights the wizard has put forth every time we've sent someone there, he's never been idle himself either when someone invades the fortress... he often has some interesting spells to offer once he finds out what is afoot. I once witnessed that far away. Oh, those fireballs were quite mean.”

Facyr grinned. “I wouldn't worry about that. We're not exactly rookies what comes to dodging fireballs, anyone can do that these days”, he said.

Faira's grin seemed as cunning as Facyr's. “Correct you are, Facyr. I'd say this will definitely turn out interesting.”

“I'd surmise you are accepting this task, then?” Aleln asked.

“Of course,” Facyr said. “It's not like there's much else to do in Anchorfall these days either. I'll rather go teaching evil wizards a good lesson rather than patrol around in a city where absolutely nothing of interest is happening. Besides, this is supposed to be Jenyr's company, and as you heard, he was keen to help you even without hearing the details personally. So yes, we're going.” He turned to his friends. “You'd better get packing!”

“Well, this is just as we hoped”, Aleln said with a smile. “Uh, so Jenyr won't be coming himself?”

“No, he's got hands full with his duties with the City Guard.” Facyr assumed an expression that could only be though of as bitter-sweet. “He's rarely of use to us as mercenaries, I'm afraid, but I suppose his greatest use is to unleash a horde of constables on unsuspecting crooks just at the moment we have found them and think there's nothing we can do to stop them from escaping. He has a lot of respect in the Guard, but I can't just imagine him going personally fight a huge band of orcs.” He smiled.

“So, when are you ready to leave?”

“As soon as we're done packing, which is fairly soon, because knowing how much interesting little trivial things we have at hands here,” Facyr said with a slight sigh, “we haven't yet got around unpacking the things from our last journey.”