As the courier had promised, it hadn't taken the overloaded wagon very long to reach Sedgewick. The horse pulled it over the old stonework bridge, spanning the large brook which cut across the front of the town, not pausing, or slowing even as it hit the small incline up to the town. As the road began to bend to the left, Johannes looked at the stonework buildings with tall, pointed roofs and smiled. Good to see so things never changed. Too many villages updated things, especially after fires or orc attacks, or even fires caused by orc attacks. It seed that Sedgewick had avoided its share of disasters, or the village elders had been wise enough to always rebuild in the traditional style.
Why, even his favorite tavern was still there! Many a ti he had stopped in during his travels, but not for several decades. Or maybe longer? So hard to keep the years straight when one had so much to get done! Making an altogether frivolous decision, he decided to stow the wagon in the livery stable and see about a room. Normally he slept in the wagon, but for once he desired the taste of a good, dark lager and perhaps so discussion with a wandering sage or poet.
As luck would have it, the stable boy was there caring for animals in the stalls, "Boy? I say, Stableboy! I need to stow my goods. Snap to it and there's a shiny copper penny for you tomorrow if all is in order."
A voice ca from the stall, "Bad timing...she's about to drop the second one, and a third is on the way, and it has horns already! Dammit, why can't you critters do anything the normal way?!"
Intrigued, Johannes stuck his head over the stall and, though he thought he'd seen it all, the sight of a man with both his arms shoved into the nether regions of a mutant beast wasn't one he could recall. One of its progeny was out and had attached its misshapen head to its mother's udder...he thought it was an udder?
Both cow and mother-monster turned to look at him. The beast had a huge cyclopean eye and a rack of horns that would be the envy of a herd of minotaurs. The man seed perfectly normal, except for the task he was involved in. Seeing Johannes, he smiled, "You ca to help. That's aweso! Grab that bellows full of oil and co over this way. And be careful, they're heavy."
On the ground was a large, two-handed contraption like the bellows of a smith. This one however had a tube running to it from a large barrel that simply had 'oil' scribbled on it in charcoal. Not knowing why he complied, Johannes picked them up. They were indeed heavy, full of many gallons of liquid. He was thankful his calling demanded a modicum of STR.
"Great. Now, what I need you to do is push the end of the bellows up between my arms as I spread things out a bit, and start pumping oil. If I yell, that ans dodge aside. This will either work spectacularly, or not. ssy either way."
Encouraged that he was helping with so sort of experint, Johannes did as the strange young man asked. Oil was forced in, arms pulled, and suddenly things started to move. Johannes didn't wait for the warning but leaped back over the stall. He was just in ti as gallons of oil, afterbirth, and a couple more monsters were birthed. The mother took all of this in stride and kept eating.
The calf stood up to reveal it was actually just one creature, but with two heads. Both of them attached to the mother alongside their other sibling and began sucking down their first al.
"Dammit Betty! You told it was triplets."
Johannes asked, "How is the counting done? By the head? Or by the number of legs divided by four."
"That's a very good point. Up until now, by head would have been accurate, but they tend to have extra legs now and then. By the head it is. You were right Betty, sorry to doubt you."
"Hey, Squirmie, be a good bug and toss that towel." The largest butterfly Johannes had ever seen flew down from the hayloft and dropped a large towel to the man, who proceeded to chuck most of his clothing to a corner, towel off and put on a fresh tunic, "Good enough for a beer. I'm thirsty. How about you? You were a big help, and I owe you one. I'm Rolly."
"I am Johannes, and yes, I would love one of your local beers. But I must arrange a place for my wagon and horse."
Rolly smiled at him, "No problem. You can bring them right into the barn and we'll put your horse in the first stall. I'll be here most of the night, and no one will touch a thing on it."
So within a few minutes Johannes found himself in a strikingly familiar tavern, enjoying a delicious dark brew, and listening to the quiet talk of the simple folk who lived here. By the taste of the beer, it seed that soone had rediscovered the secret to Master Dinkledorfs #9 Dark Ale. It had been quite popular until his sudden demise at the paws of a jealous female manticore he had been courting in the nagerie. This tasted nearly the sa, although the years made for a blurry mory, and his palette as a student had been unrefined.
Rolly turned out to be the local shepherd, and based on his butterfly, a breeder of fantastical beasts. He had many strange and interesting ideas, (or possibly experience?), for dealing with the more dangerous ones. Johannes tried to politely inquire about how he created the cute little thing. The shepherd had turned to the bug, stroked a wing lightly, and replied that it was more a case of he and Squirmie creating each other.
If he thought he'd be lacking in stimulating conversation, he was mistaken. Rolly had introduced him to a local family. The father was a midlevel alchemist of the classic path, while his daughter was gearing for dungeons as a battle mage. They traded recipes a bit. He had so variant ingredients that could lower the cost of mana potions, while Aliester had a lovely little STR potion variant that added a huge chance for destructive potential. He didn't claim it to be his though, rather it was the happy discovery of another local who was prone to experintation.
The final joy of the night was a long political discussion with a fine-looking young butcher. What he lacked in current knowledge of empire politics, he made up for with a solid grounding in political theory. They talked long into the night until the barmaid announced that it was closing ti, and offered to show Johannes his room. The butcher and he shook hands, neither of them able to get a crushing grip on the other. The little barmaid endured their contest for a couple of minutes before declaring that little boy gas were over.
He asked for the last room at the end of the hall, out of nostalgia. To his surprise, it was almost exactly as he rembered it! Bleached pine paneling was accented by cast iron fixtures. The bed was just big enough for him and looked hard as a rock. Just what his old back needed to straighten out from the day’s twists and turns. A straw pillow and coarse wool blanket completed the room perfectly. It was difficult these days to find a nice, austere room at an inn. Too many people associated the idea with "cheap". They obviously understood the needs of people like him at this little tavern with old traditions.
The barmaid paused, frowning. "I'm sorry. If..."
"Ohno, my fault entirely my dear. You shouldn't have to ask for the room fee! I was just having a mont of rembrance from my youth. I stayed in rooms like this often. It's perfect. Please, take this. Let know if it doesn't cover the week. While I have business in the city, I think I will be more comfortable here."
By her smile, all was good.
Reclining on the hard bed and crossing his hands over his chest, he congratulated himself on not waiting for more information. Gadobhra was open again! And obviously the locals had kept to the old traditions. His people could co ho, and he'd be here to welco them.
=*=
The life of one of The Emperor's tax collectors was often a hard one during your early years. Untold number of small villages were scattered across the land, and they all had to be visited every seven years. The budget did not allow for the costly use of teleportation controlled by the army, so this involved a lot of travel by carriage and horse - the small party accompanying.
Procurator Smythe had ridden for the better part of three days, changing horses at the local courier posts, and eating in the saddle. If he and his team didn't have the skill When doing the Emperor's work, it would most likely have killed him. As it was, he was very cranky and tired as his team arrived in yet another small village.
By his notes, soone had passed through three years ago and been offered the customary 50 copper and 6 chickens owed by a collection of houses that barely counted as a Tier 1 Village. As normal, the agent had noted the taxes paid, pocketed the cash for his own expenses, and told the village to hold a chicken dinner in the Emperor's na.
They had made a few improvents. First, one of the new guilds, or 'corporations', had moved in with contracts for providing goods to the Legion. This had attracted several new residents, and added a large number of workers to the town. Next, the town had been totally rebuilt and expanded upon. There was a large section of notes that had been removed as classified, so he was hazy on the why? and how? The final change had been the corporation finding, opening, and claiming the lost city of Gadobhra, and building a corporate headquarters there. The local managers were now Baron and Baroness of the area. It had taken his entire staff several hours to co up with the various taxes now owed, and revisions had reached him by pigeon along the way.
His team seed tired, but wary. His two bodyguards, Sanguine and Ebony were nervous and looking about. His hound, Huck, was sniffing the air, "Sothing up, Huck?"
The small man with an enormous nose was sniffing around, "Strange stuff. Slls like the Temple on high holy days, but mixed with sothing dark and secret. I'm also picking up sothing really odd...I'd swear it was...nope, no conjecture. I'll pin it down though. A lot of odd people have been in this town lately, sir, and so of them might still be here."
As suspected, this wasn't going to be a quick visit. Smythe waved his party ahead. They would procure rooms, and get a al. Then find this Baron, one William by na, and start the process of taxation and collection. He was a new Baron, so his squeals of pain would probably be amusing at least.
A mile or two behind the Procurator's party, were several heavily-loaded wagons carrying foodstuffs and other goods ordered by the new Baron. Several of the rchants had decided to accompany their goods - both to look for new markets, and to collect the coin in person. These were large orders amounting to a significant sum of money, and new nobles were notorious for how fast they reached a point of debt they couldn't pay off. Best to get cash up front.
The rchants had no fear of thieves. They were accompanied by two soldiers from the Legion and an army accountant. New improvents had to be made to Rowan keep and traditionally, a portion of these was paid for by the local ruler whom the Legion protected. Supply Sgt. Rorke planned to make it a very large portion this ti around. They had already been improving the keep. Now those plans were tripled because of Gadobhra.
=*=
William, Baron of Gadobhra, woke up soti after mid-day.
He wasn't feeling his best. Sothing had died in his mouth, his head pounded, and his shoulder was sore. He was also starving and had no idea where he was. He had vague mories of dancing and shouting at the lightning, and a voice in his head telling him about how great he could be. He wondered what he'd been drinking.
Layla was sleeping in an overstuffed chair. The empty plate and mug on the small table next to her showed she'd already had breakfast. Sohow the woman had cleaned up, was dressed in new clothes, got food, and now was catching a bit of a nap. All before he made it out of bed.
He, by comparison, looked and felt like he'd been drinking for weeks, was dressed in rags, and was bruised, stinking and hungry.
"Yo! Sleeping beauty! Give a quick report on what's going on!"
Layla stretched slowly and stood. "I thought you would never wake up. Let's get moving, you have people to talk to."
"Like this? Nope, I want a bath, new clothes, and another bath first."
Layla looked at him, and shook her head, "Let guess, you barely looked at your skills list. You're a damned Baron now. You have in-ga abilities. Use them, stupid!"
Billy looked at his list of skills. Down in the tertiaries were: Always a Good Day when You're a Baron and Emperor's New Clothes. "These two?" Imdiately he felt better and was wearing a fine set of black and grey clothing with silver highlights that matched Layla's outfit. "Wow. Aweso."
"Do your howork, Billy. You have Contract Workers underneath you who are manipulating the system and gaining so power. Don't just think of it as a ga! And so warnings: you feel better, but you aren't. You still need a bath and food; this is just a temporary fix. Also, the clothes are a high-level illusion. Refresh the skill every hour or it fades."
Billy looked at his diminished mana points, "Damn, I need more mana then. I should raise my INT I guess."
Layla snorted, "Not that easy, Billyboy. You need to raise all your skills. Those raise your stats as well. You've been slacking because you were just an AC manager."
"So was I. No need? Right? Except that your little barmaid could walk into the room with just a smile and charm all the males and half the females without trying. Because she's smart. She's gaining skills and stats. She's making herself better. I should have been doing the sa all along."
"So from now on, the two of us are going into training and learning to use all of these skills. And if you slack off, I'll leave you behind and take over."
Billy mulled that over, "Shit. I hate the idea, but I get the point. But don't go asuring your butt for a new throne too quickly. I'm not letting you steal the city after all the work I put into getting it."
The two of them locked eyes for a bit, smiled at each other, and walked downstairs.
=*=
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