There is a small line formed and, as I near, I see a bill posted on the exterior that reads: Adventurers Wanted—fair pay to clean up Buknar Valley—no experience required. Those in line look to be a mix of mercenaries and soldiers—no doubt fresh from the field—hunters, vagrants, rogues, and beggars.
This could be interesting. I edge closer to get a look inside as I pass. As I do, I make eye contact with a man behind a small table handing papers to the applicants. He brightens when he sees me and waves.
An unexpected familiar face: Corporal Level. I wonder what he is doing here. There is an easy way to find out. I simply go over and ask. This task is made that much easier when Level comes out to meet me.
“Zer Khaldun, we meet again!” he seems chipper and reaches out to shake my hand.
I oblige and nod, “Corporal. What finds you here?”
“I was about to ask you the same. Figured you’d be back at the tower. You are studying under Val Maxis, right? That’s what the boys at camp said. Anyway, after we pressed the Hordes back, the Liontamer released the bulk of the enlisted folk and sent ‘em back to the farms for harvest. Only problem is that there’s still some stragglers from the Orc Hordes out in the valley sabotaging and plundering and whatnot. I got put in charge of a new corps to root them out and clear the valley so it’s safe again.”
“For fair pay?”
“That’s right! No experience necessary. Though I am getting my fair share of capable types since the coin is right. I’ll take what I can get. We just opened up shop a week ago Monday. Know anyone who might be interested?”
“I am.”
He gives me an incredulous look and a weird smile, “You? What about the tower? No, never mind. That’s your business. Mages are usually not interested in this sort of work so you’d get premium wages for joining up. I’m already pulling favors from the churches to get some clerics in the parties. I’d be delighted to sign you on!”
Speaking with Level has been pleasantly uncomplicated. I got to have my preference of keeping quiet and he got to have his preference of over-sharing. As conversationalists go, for my sensibilities, Level ranks fairly high.
I nod and he ushers me back to the converted stable that the corps is operating from. Brought to the front of the line, he hands me a contract and a quill. He leans in as I inspect the document, “Truth be told, most of these guys just sign without reading. I know you’re educated so take your time. It’s mostly the standard clauses but there are at least three articles of note that outline the corps’ authority to carry weapons, the answerability to the military should it be needed—the corps is being sponsored by the army after all—and a special liability should the worst happen and you die. If you have questions, just ask.”
Contracts. Elysians and their endless contracts. The cornerstone of their governance, everything is contracts. There are contracts to operate a business, to own property, to commission goods and services, to join a guild, to be employed, to be married, and all manner of other things. I had stacks of them for my apothecary shop. Not just to establish it, but also each time I sold goods that were regulated by the guilds. These would pile up until the week before the new year. During the five days of Inter, contracts were accounted for and recorded in the official records. No contract could persist beyond Inter so the first week of the new year tended to be a busy time where new contracts were drafted for the coming year with whatever changes the regulations demanded.
The paperwork had been tedious but it had helped me avoid a lot of trouble. It is among the reasons I had stayed in Elysium. When someone had a grievance, the contracts were reviewed and the law was always in favor of the one who was right by the terms of the document. Since I’ve become accustomed to being singled out and run out of places in the past, I’d been pedantic about my contracts. Though I was still targeted plenty of times, I’d never once been found in the wrong.
I see nothing adverse in this contract so I sign and hand it back to a smiling Level. He points me down the inside alley toward the yard in the back. The entire barn hasn’t been converted and I walk past plenty of stalls with horses or equipment.
The back yard appears to be a place to further process the new members. Some are being drilled on their sword techniques or shield blocking. Others are looking over maps with red pins in them, nodding and pointing to what I can assume to be scouting sectors. Still others are listening to a briefing about the program. I sit in the back and listen to the briefing.
The enemy has small raiding parties all along the Buknar Valley. Usually a single squad, they’d proved difficult to track and were moving frequently. There was evidence of attacks on farms, caravans, travelers, hunters, and more, but no survivors. With the harvest coming on, farms are the top priority to keep safe. Already several have had fields burned, livestock slaughtered, or equipment destroyed. While the bigger picture isn’t yet clear, the tactics seem aimed at depriving Elysium of its food supply chain.
Scouting parties for the Adventurer’s Corps will be assigned based on experience and skill set. As much as possible, squads will consist of at least one fighter, a scout, and a medic. The instructor makes a point to mention that some members will need field training, so to take stock before heading out and not assume everyone is a battle-hardened mercenary. She goes on to explain how to perform a proper scouting sweep in an area and what things we are expected to file in our reports. New groups will be on a one week check-in but will be promoted in both pay and time afield as they show competency.
All in all, not bad. A few weeks or months will net me a healthy wage that I can use to buy a horse and tack, as well as the supplies I’ll need to get to Khanhein. Yes, Khanhein seems like the best place to begin. The Khanlanders are a competent people and finding followers and a figurehead among them will be worth the extra effort it will take to entice them. For as much as they value strength in their leaders, so too do they demand wisdom.
With luck, I may even be able to recruit some of these adventurers. Many are lowlifes brought in by the promise of steady coin, but I am starting at the bottom and even petty criminals will suffice, initially.
The new recruits are directed to a sour-faced man to record our skill and experience for unit distribution. We are instructed to return on Monday for our first assignment.
Several of the recruits eye me warily when they finally notice me sitting in the back. I am not easy to miss but I keep to myself and don’t fidget. I evaluate any for potential but find them wanting. Perhaps the next batch will be better. I leave.
My errand in the city handled much more quickly than anticipated, I now have three days to myself before I must report in. It has been more than a year since I last touched a woman. I was too focused on study and I was not about to seduce some child apprentice for my pleasure. So, I find the nearest temple of Ard Agdawn and slake my lusts for some time. I pay a bit extra to get a woman with a reputation for discretion who is old enough to not be easily put off by my size and appearance. When the evening dusk settles in, I locate an inn further south to save some coin, eat a meager stew, drink its watered-down ale, and turn in on a too-small bed.
There are some advantages to being tall. Finding beds that fit is not one of them. I am used to it, though, and pull the lumpy, straw mattress onto the floor instead. As is my routine, I perform one-hundred each of my daily exercises, meditate on the events of the day, and set to memory anything of note. I do not keep a journal—someone could read that and learn things about me I do not want others to learn—so I keep everything in my head. Decades of practice has honed it nicely and my recollection is suburb. After setting my thoughts in order, I cast a warding spell on the boundaries of the room that will wake me if anything enters and drift off to sleep with my dagger under the pillow.
The Wordbearer Chronicles is a dark fantasy web series with new passages on Tuesdays.
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