Posted on 2009/03/22

Over the next few weeks, Joe finds himself carting goods all over town - but almost always staying within the town walls apart from a brief trip just outside the walls to take raw cow hides to the tannery. He carts grain to the mill and barrels of dried meat and fish to the provisioners, rolled rugs and tapestries to a new merchant's house, wooden furniture to a pair of newly-wed crafters, bales of cloth and sacks of herbs from one warehouse to another, casks of beer and wine to various taverns and inns and even ends up filling in for a broken milk cart one day.

Then, finally, he finds himself hired to make another trip to Caslen Village. At last, he thinks, he'll be back on the road, back out where no-one cares about his rapid rise to teamster. Back where all his carting started. This time though, he knows enough to pack a sack of goods for himself, and a bag of assorted rations.

Even Nipper seems happy to be out and about on the road, allowing himself to be loaded and beribboned with only one or two token nips at the air around Joe.

There's a nip in the air too, as Joe locks up his house and yard and heads out of town. Brown and gold leaves tumble in the wind and pile on the roadside, forcing Joe to pull his cloak tighter around him. He eats from the cart seat, not bothering to stop for more than the few minutes needed to water Nipper and the mule.

The first day passes quietly, apart from the other carts travelling the same road. Joe exchanges nods with the other carters as they pass each other but no-one wants to risk the cold long enough to chat.

The second day is much like the first, only there are far fewer other carts around, but on the third day, Joe wakes to Bramble's growl and crawls out of his bedding just in time to see an arrow levelled at him from a short bow…

Posted on 2009/03/29

Joe starts to straighten up and then drops back into a crouch as an arrow whistles past his ear. He slides his hand down to the bandolier he had discarded for the night and feels his way along looking for his knife hilts, while at the same time trying to watch this archer.

Even as the archer snarls, revealing pointed teeth, Bramble is advancing, curling her own lips back from her own teeth - which skid off the archer's leg armor. As the archer looks down, Joe snatches out a a knife and hurls it wildly. tt misses the archer by some distance and Joe mutters a curse, menally marking where it went so that he can retrieve it later. Joe curses again as an arrow scrapes painfully past his ear, grabs his bandolier and rolls away from his bedding towards Nipper.

Or at least, towards where Nipper was.

Nipper, it seems, has moved. A yelp from the archer rather suggests that Nipper is applying teeth somewhere painful. Joe takes his time to draw another knife and aim while Bramble darts around the archer, trying to apply her teeth, but without much success. Finally Joe releases the knife and watches with satisfaction as it thuds home in the archer's shoulder - no more arrows after that…

The archer, though, just drops his bow and pulls out a short sword. He swipes at bramble, who simply snarls and circles around towards Nipper. When the archer turns to follow her, Nipper's teeth snap just clear of the archer's nose.

Joe shakes clear of the last remains of sleep and takes careful aim at the archer's back. Bramble dances clear again and Joe hurls the dagger. It slams into the archer's spine and the man stiffens, jerks a couple of times and then crumples.

Joe snatches another knife free and runs across to make completely sure this archer is dead….

Posted on 2009/04/11

The archer turns out to have horns among his hair - much more convenient for grabbing and holding. Joe puts them to use while he applies his knife to the archer's neck and then rolls the archer over to see if he has anything worth taking.

There's the bow and the arrows and the short sword. The leather of the armor seems to be top quality. No pack, but a heavy belt peels off to reveal coins slotted into pockets on its inside. Joe strips the robber and packs the few things he has found, burying the weapons and armor in the bottom of his one sack share.

Then he hauls the body up onto his shoulders, carries it to the nearest drainage ditch and dumps it in there, kicking bits of mud and damp leaves down over it so that it isn't immediately visible.

As he starts back towards his camp, he hears hooves clattering up the road. The hooves seem to stop by his own campsite and Joe curses, fumbles for a knife, and begins to run.

He reaches his camp to see four horses held by a man in a battered breastplate, while the other three riders look the camp over and Bramble and Nipper circle around the edge.

Joe straightens his back, lifts his chin and glares at the riders. “This is my camp, sirs.” Two dark heads turn towards him, one with long black hair braided up around the elvish ears, the other more human looking with a slender face framed by a cap of short black hair, both clearly female. Joe looks at the two of them and hastily adds, “And ladies. My camp,” he repeats, walking closer as the long-haired one moves towards the just-hidden weapons. “Might you tell me what you want of me and my camp?”

The third rider turns an armored body towards Joe, pushing his red cloak back over one shoulder. Dark blond hair rises above grey eyes and the man frowns slightly as if trying to remember something before finally, he turns to Joe and says, “We saw what appeared to be an abandoned camp, and-”

The short-haired girl stops abruptly and looks down at her feet. Her eyes turn towards the other woman and then both of them turn to look at the blond man. He raises an eyebrow and the long-haired woman makes a small gesture with her left hand. The man's eyes widen as he turns back to Joe and continues smoothly, “-and found that we were mistaken.” He nods to the others. “So if you will excuse us, we will be on our way.”

Joe just nods and tries to unclamp his hand from his knife hilt.

The long-haired woman inclines her head with something close to respect as she passes Joe and the short-haired one meets Joe's defiant gaze with an odd blue-green gaze of her own before touching her ear and continuing to her horse.

The four swing up into their saddles and with one last look over Joe and his camp, they clatter off down the road. In the same direction that Joe is going….

Posted on 2009/04/19

Joe scowls after the riders, torn between anger at the assumption that his belongings were free for the taking and relief that they hadn't actually taken anything. He trudges back through his camp, checking everything over, and stumbles on what the short-haired woman must have seen - the crossbow bolt that skimmed past his head and is now lying broken and half buried in the grass. Those riders may have done something worse than assume his stuff was free for the taking - they may have noticed him! And common workers like him depend on not being noticed by the rich and powerful….

Joe grumbles a string of curses as he reassures the animals and sees about getting food for all of them, including himself, muttering about “blasted bandits that wake you up early” and “idiots that make you late for breakfast” and “stupid adventurers that wouldn't know how to work if their lives depended on it” and “blasted noble fools that have no idea what help is”, finishing with “damn and blast it, Nipper, I'm hungry. At least you got to bite something!”

He gulps down a breakfast of bread and cheese, retrieves all his thrown knives, packs up all his own gear and makes a last double check of the area for any more betraying bolts before he clambers up onto the driver's seat and sets off for Caslen Village.

His ear begins to throb as he travels and he touches it gingerly only to find that it has been bleeding a bit. It seems the bolt that whistled past came closer than he had thought, and put a tiny nick in his ear.

Eventually, he reaches Caslen and does a brisk haggle for his enhanced 1 sack share, deciding at the last moment to keep those really good leathers until he can find a specialist. After all, it isn't as if he is likely to find leather of masterwork quality anywhere else…

Posted on 2009/04/26

Joe's cart is unloaded by the guilds people, although the different guilds seem to be staying firmly on opposite sides of the cart and he heads to the inn, the same as he did last time he was here, although this time, he doesn't have any rabbit meat to barter a stay with.

He does get himself a bowl of liver and beans and finds himself at an empty table between two separate guild groups exchanging hostile looks. Listening to the insults flying about, he gathers that the weaponmeakers recently began making spiked shields. The armorers claim that shields are their business, while the weaponeers counter-claim that the spikes make the shield a weapon.

Joe decides to keep his mouth shut, and not get involved as long as one side or the other pays him. He finishes his meal and finds his way up to his bed.

When he comes down next morning, he finds that the quarrel has progressed to the point that the two guilds are now taking turns to load his cart, while glaring at the other side. Joe stays out of it, except to keep Nipper well out of anyone's reach, preventing him from biting either side.

The trip back is quiet and, again, in the offloading team, Joe half recognises some familiar faces. On the other hand, this warehouse owner knows another warehouse owner who is moving to a bigger warehouse and looking for reliable carters.

Joe on hearing that, replies, “I can be a very reliable carter for a reliable wage…”

Posted on 2009/03/03

After signing onto a 2-week hire to move goods from one warehouse to another, Joe spends his days puttering gently back and forth across town, pocketing good pay every night, and not having to worry about being hired out of the line. Somewhere along the way, he decides to call the mule 'Merry'.

Meals become regulated to bread, bread and cheese, pease pudding or vegetable stew, easily bought from the market on his way home, and over the two weeks, Joe finds himself settling into a routine.

Then the end of the hire arrives. He pockets his final wage and even a bonus for good work and heads home, deciding that he will have a restful day - or at least not a working day tomorrow. Merry needs the break even if Bramble and Nipper don't.

Having decided that, he picks up a bit of extra food at the market, investing in chestnuts, don't ask pie and some eggs as well as bread, cheese, dried peas, onions, carrots, cabbage and turnip.

After the third time he pushes Bramble off his middle … and her tongue away from his face … and her cold nose away from the back of his neck … Joe actually manages to have a lie in. Of sorts.

He pulls on some of his scruffier clothes to muck out and clean up Nipper and Merry, and wanders down the staircase with his breakfast bread in one hand and a bucket for water in the other. He is bent double, cleaning Nipper's hooves out when someone knocks at the gate. Not wanting to fight Nipper all over again to get at the hooves, he calls out, “Gate's open, be with you shortly…” and goes back to wrestling with Nipper.

The gate creaks open and booted feet clatter into the yard, along with several (by the sound of it) horses. A faintly familiar voice says, “We're looking for a-” scuff of boot, squeak of leather, rustle of parchment, “-Joe Wood. Would you know where we might, uh, find him?”

Head down over the last hoof, Joe grunts something no-committal and keeps working before Nipper gets the better of him. Finally finshed, he escapes from Nipper's stall and turns to see who his vistitors are, only to be faced with three of the four adventurers who tried to raid his cart on the road. The short haired woman seems to be missing, and the blond man in the red cloak seems to be in charge.

Or at least, he is the one standing at the front, with a bit of parchment in his hand, while the other man fidgets beside the horses and the long-haired elf woman gazes interestedly around….

Posted on 2009/05/10

Joe looks the adventurers over. “You're wanting Joe Wood, you say?”

“That's right,” the blond man says, checking his parchment again. “We were told we might find him here.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Well…” the blond man hesitates a moment and then looks Joe over. Joe squares his shoulders under that look, all too aware that he is dressed in some of his scruffiest clothes. “We had a - um - job for him…”

“Really?” Joe thinks about that for a while and scuffs his toe against the ground as he tries to figure out how much he can get out of these rich adventurers. Eventually, he sighs and adds, “You'd better come in.”

“That's where he is?” the blond man asks.

Joe shrugs and grins. “This here is Joe Wood speaking, but inside will be easier for discussng, since you don't seem to want to let the world know what you're after.”

The blond man stares at him for a long moment, until the elf stretches up to whisper something in his ear. Then his eyes widen and he nods quickly. “Might you have some place to tether our mounts?”

“There's a ring by the pump.” Joe points and scoots up the stairs to his living quarters while the adventurers are busy dealing with their horses. He hastily splashes water over his hands and face and changes his shirt for a better one, before hurying back to stop Bramble blocking the door.

As the threesome file up his stairs into his main room, Joe tolts his head towards the table and benches. “Now then, you were saying you wanted me?”

“Well, yes…” The blond man looks back at the priest fidgeting in the doorway and sighs. “My friend Hardrad over there did some - consulting - and got your name as the person who would be - best - for the job.

“Names,” Joe says. “That's another thing. You know my name. Might I know yours?”

The blond man looks at the fidgeter and then at the elf woman who shrugs and takes up the thread of the conversation.

“That one over there, with the fidgets” she says, “is Hardard Callison, priest of Fharlangon. He never has been able to stay still. My calmer friend here is Calum Sarisson and they call me Lucienne Rivereyes. I suppose I should explain from the beginning. You see, this job? It's about my sister….”

Posted on 2009/05/17

“My sister's name is Karen, Karen Black,” the elf says, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. “Half-sister technically, I suppose. We share a father. Anyway, we were looking at a rather unusual town…” She pauses and looks at Joe. “Have you heard of a place called Hayketh?”

Joe nods shortly. He isn't likely to forget Shiny's town and its arch. “I've been there. What of it?”

The fidgeter bursts out, “You have? But-”

“Hardrad,” the other two chorus, “shush.”

The fidgeter opens his mouth again, squirms twice and shuts it again.

“Anyway,” the elf goes on, “my sister was going to scout it out. We found only one way to get her in, so she took it. It worked fine except that she was caught inside Hayketh. They - did something to her…”

“Very touching,” Joe snaps. “And just what do you expect me to do? You're the adventurers, not me. I'm a teamster, not some stupid hero. Some of us actually have to earn a living, you know.”

“Well…” The three look at each other and the elf sighs. “We have very good word that you are the most likely person to get her out safely. We were expecting someone better - better -”

“Better suited to your ideas?” Joe says. “Better equipped for your adventuring? Better than me?”

They don't answer except to look at each other again.

“And,” Joe goes on, “you realise that this will cost you? I don't work for free. I got my living to earn….”

Posted on 2009/05/25

The fidgeter looks at Joe and mutters something that sounds very much like, “Blasted mercenary hirelings…”

Joe looks stubbornly back and mutters loudly, “Hello, pot. Isn't the kettle black today…”

The blond man and the elf smile wryly at each other. The blond sighs and shrugs one shoulder. “Very well, just so we understand each other, let's talk plainly. How much and how do you want?”

“I want something I can use,” Joe replies promptly. “I don't like being burdened down with stupid gold. I'm no fighting man either to want weapons, or fancy armor. What else can you offer?”

“How about a favour for a favour?” the blond man counters. “If you do this favour for us, you can call on us for one favour in the future?”

“Maybe,” Joe retorts. “But I want something solid as well. I've seen far too many of your kind ignore my kind whenever it suits you.”

A small racket breaks out in the yard anymore and Joe jumps to his feet as he recognises the sounds of Nipper chasing something and realises that he didn't check the catch on the stall door. Muttering excuses, he dashes through the door and down the steps towards the hisses, growls and whinnies of the animals. He senses movement behind him but doesn't stop to look, concentrating on reaching Nipper before he catches whatever it is. In front of him he sees a small scarlet creature swooping just out of Nipper's reach, hissing and growling taunts at the pony.

A voice from the top of the steps yells, “Saisa! Behave!” just as Joe yells, “Nipper! Behave!” and the combatants back off towards their scolders. Joe grabs Nipper's halter and looks up in time to see the scarlet creature land in the elf's arms. Then he is occupied with getting Nipper back to his stall and making quite sure that this time the stall door is firmly bolted.

When he finally gets back upstairs, he finds the three adventurers sitting on one of his benches, with the creature curled up on the elf's lap and purring. As Joe takes a seat on the other bench, the blond man leans forward and asks, “Do you hunt, Joe Wood?”

“Sometimes,” Joe admits.

“Then how about we give you something that will give your stalking a boost when you need it?”

Joe thinks about it and then shrugs one shoulder. “All right. If that's the best you can do. So, how do you expect me to get this sister of yours out through that arch?”

The blond man smiles and places a tiny green vial of liquid on the table. “You get her to drink this….”

Posted on 2009/05/31

Having prised payment out of the adventurers, Joe sets about haggling for 'costs'. The cost of rations for him and the animals. The cost of a cartload of goods to get in. Every 'cost' he can think of. What really surprises him is how easily the adventurers give in on that sort of cost.

Having finally extracted everything he can think of from them, Joe sees the adventurers out, and heads to the market. Although they have paid him adventurer prices for everything, Joe quite happily pays his own more usual price and pockets the difference.

He also delays for a full day before he reluctantly sets off. Shiny's town is not, in any way, somewhere that he really wants to go back to. He does set off though, towing Nipper (still beribboned) behind the cart. Three days of travelling drags by, even with good rations and glimpses of the adventurers off in the wilds parallel to the road.

On the last day, the elf comes close enough to hand over the green vial. “Make sure Kearn drinks all of it,” she instructs. “It will knock her out so you can hide her. And make sure she is completely unconscious before you go through the arch. It won't be able to detect her presence if she's unconscious…”

Joe nods several times, takes the vial gingerly and wonders how he is going to find the girl let alone get time out of sight with her near the cart. With a silent shrug, he decides to cross that bridge when he comes to it and stows the vial out of sight in his belt pouch.

The elf vanishes into the wilds with the other two adventurers and Joe takes a deep breath, before driving as casually as he can manage down between the precise fields and lining up to go under the arch….

Posted on 2009/06/08

Joe presses his hand against the wooden side of the cart for luck and finds a checklist churning over and over in his mind.

Leathers out of sight - check
Knives out of sight - check
Goods secure - check
Bramble IN sight - check…

The arch flickers above him and the guards look him and the cart over and wave him through. Joe tries to breathe evenly as he touches the wooden side once more and flicks the reins so that the mule walks forward. He doesn't want to get stopped now, just as he is getting in. And getting out, he realises, is going to be even worse. Why did he agree to this in the first place? Oh yes, payment.

He takes another breath and follows his guide through the streets to the warehouse and its workgang. The workgang swarms dully aboard the cart to unload it, prodded on by their overseer and Joe half turns to check on them, wondering how he can be expected to find one woman in the whole town and whether the adventurers would accept the excuse that she was nowhere to be seen.

Then, just as he is rehearsing the 'nowhere to be seen' speech in his head, he does see her. Or at least someone who looks like her. Except this one is in the workgang, blue-green eyes as dull as any of them and dark hair matted to her neck. She looks blankly through him as she is puched up to collect a sack and Joe curses silently and starts racking his brain for a way to get her alone….

Posted on 2009/08/15

Joe continues to quietly watch the worker even as the overseer sidles up beside him.

“See a pretty one?” the overseer snickers.

Joe turns his head to look at the man and sees a cunning gleam in the overseer's dulled eyes. “Maybe I do…. A man can look in this town, can't he?”

“Man can do more than that - for a price…”

“More?” Joe says, raising eyebrow. “How much more, and how quietly?”

The overseer snickers again. “Them priestfolk don't know everything. And I don't reckon as they should…”

“No? I'm only a visitor, here,” Joe points out. “I don't know your priests' rules…but it doesn't sound like them…” He studies the overseer for signs of a trap, but as far as he can tell, the man is serious. “What if I said I wanted her all night - or for a certain time?” He glances back at the worker. She is reasonably good looking, he supposes, in an elvish sort of way, but all he really wants to do is to get out of here with her.

“All night is extra,” the overseer says. His lips curl back in a wide smirk. “You want? You can…”

“How much?” Joe asks and is relieved to find that it is less than he made on the supply costs. He haggles briefly and quietly, but without much luck and eventually pays up. “Ok, leave her here…”

The overseer scoops up the coins, pulls the worker out of the main group and sets her beside the cart. “All night, young man. All night and all to yourself.” He cackles as he drives the rest of the group off somewhere.

Joe waits until the overseer is gone, and then moves round to the worker. She does look like the short haired woman from that group of adventurers. “Are you Karen?” he asks quietly, hoping for some kind of response. He doesn't get much of one, just a slight turn of the head and dull eyes resting blankly on his face. “I'm a friend. Do you understand? A friend…”

Posted on 2009/08/29

Very slowly, a glimmer of recognitition comes into the woman's eyes and she reaches up to touch first her ear and then Joe's where the arrow clipped it. Joe can feel the scrape of ragged nails around her cool fingertips and tries not to shiver. “Friend,” he repeats. “I'm a friend.”

She nods as understanding reaches her eyes as slowly as the recognition did. She doesn't say anything though, just licks her lips and looks round. Joe looks at her, thinking that even Bramble responds quicker than this. Still he has had a lot of practice with Bramble. He scrambles up into the back of the cart to get some of his remaining food and his water jug. The woman turns to watch him and he offers her a hand up into the cart, thinking if he can hide her there, he can just drive her out early, before the overseer gets back. The woman looks blankly at his hand for a long moment and then hesitantly reaches out her own hand to take it.

Joe pulls her up into the cart and gently pushes her into a corner between the side of the cart and one of the remaining crates. “Sit there. Sit.” When she does curl down into the corner, he sighs with relief and puts bread and water into her hands. She bolts them both down and blinks up at him, a small frown between her dull eyes.

Joe looks away, uneasy to see another person acting more like an animal. Then he gets a grip on himself and crouches beside her. “You stay here and sleep,” he tells her. “Stay. Sleep.”

She curls into a tighter ball, her eyes watching him all the way off the cart. Joe slips to the door and peers out, only to see the not-so-distant back of the overseer outside. He curses under his breath. He has a nasty feeling that overseer is just waiting to catch him out and reclaim the woman for work. He sighs and mutters, “Room for 2 in that cart, I suppose - or under it…”

Posted on 2009/09/13

Joe wakes with a start in the dark and strains his ears to find out why. No sound from Bramble or Nipper, but something or someone is moving nearby. He scrambles hastily out of his bedroll, one hand grabbing for his lantern, the other for the nearest knife. As the lantern light spills out into the warehouse, the sounds stop and he turns to see the woman crouched, shivering, halfway between the cart and his bedroll on the floor. Joe shivers himself as the cold air hits him. He sheathes the knife, puts the lantern and untangles a pair of blankets from his bedding. He wraps one round his own shoulders and walks the few paces to drop the other over the woman. Then he retreats to his lantern, closes the cover and picks his way to the door to peer out.

The overseer seems to have gone, and Joe can smell dawn on the air, even though there isn't much light. Early enough to start moving, he decides and closes the door again. He uncovers the lantern and by its light starts to pack up his things. The woman slowly straightens and pulls the blanket round her, blinking as she watches him. Joe looks at her and remembers there is one thing that he needs to unpack from its hiding place and give her before he leaves - at least if he is going to follow the instructions he was given.

With a muffled curse, he digs out the green vial and looks at it. Another check at the door reveals the first glimmers of daylight creeping across the sky, so he takes a deep breath and walks over to the woman. “Friend?” he reminds her and waits for the slow understanding to grow in her eyes before he says, “Drink,” and cautiously hands her the vial.

She sniffs it and her face twists in disgust before she pulls out the stopper with her teeth, spits it onto the floor and gulps the vial contents down. The only result from it is another expression of disgust and a hand pulling the blanket closer around her. Joe sighs and turns to finish packing the last few things around the space he plans to hide her in. A matching sigh from the woman makes him turn back to see her swaying on her feet, amd he is just in time to jump down from the cart and catch her as she crumples…

Posted on 2009/09/20

Joe lowers the unconscious woman the rest of the way to the floor and looks down her, thinking that if he'd known the vial would be this quick he would have got her into position before he got her to drink it. He sighs and leans down, wrapping the blanket around her more tightly to conceal her form, before trying to lift her. Although she looks slight enough, he finds her rather heavier than he expected. On the second try, he is expecting the weight and manages to lift her onto the end of the wagon bed. He scrambles up after her and picks her up again - experience making her limp body a heavy load, but manageable. Checking the remaining crates again, he tucks her down between two of them and arranges the rest to hide her, while leaving enough space to let her breathe.

Joe checks the hiding place once more and then jumps down to snatch up his last few things. He calls Bramble up into the cart and orders her to sit where she is visible, then fetches Nipper and the mule and straps on the packs and harnesses, before climbing up beside Bramble for a final time and driving the cart out of the warehouse into the street.

He is halfway to the arch and freedom when he sees the overseer and the warehouse workers crossing his path. Joe swallows hard, swears mentally and makes himself smile.

The overseer waves cheerfully back and calls, “Had a good night, young carter?”

Joe grins and nods quickly. “Good enough, thank you.” He tweaks Nipper's line fractionally, just enough to start Nipper snapping and plunging beside the cart. “Well, I'd better get Nipper out of here before anyone gets hurt,” he adds, urging the mule on towards the arch before the overseer can say anything more - especially before the overseer starts asking questions about the woman.

That arch is looming closer and closer and Joe takes one deep breath after another, as he checks Bramble's position in full view and hopes against hope that the woman doesn't get discovered. Then he is under the arch and he holds his breath as it flickers 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 times. No fifth flicker. No yells of outrage or discovery. No reaction except to wave him on.

Joe lets out his breath slowly and drives on out of Hayketh and down the road between fields. His part done, he decides, and he never wants to do anything of the sort ever again! Now, if those wretched adventurers will just come and retrieve the woman, he can go back to a normal life…

Posted on 2009/10/05

Joe is nearly 2 hours down the road from Hayketh before the adventurers finally show up. They pull in on either side of the cart and the longhaired elf woman asks, “Well?”

Joe jerks his head towards the cart. “In the back.”

“You did it? Good. Let's get Karen out of there then.”

“Fine,” Joe says, lifting his chin in mute defiance, “but you'll have to wait for me to find a passing spot. Some of were brought up to have manners. Like not blocking the road.” He looks pointedly at the horses flanking him, and then drives on. He does find a grassy area beside the road not much further on and pulls in there. He climbs over into the main part of the cart, removes the hiding crates and unwraps his blanket from the short-haired woman. She is still unconscious. He looks at her for a moment, thinking that she looks far more human asleep than she does awake, before lifting her clear and handing her down to the fidgeter. The fidgeter staggers under the load and quickly lowers her down to the ground. Placing one hand across her forehead, he chants a few nonsense words and makes a brief gesture before sitting back on his heels.

The elf woman jumps off her horse and walks to stand beside the fidgeter. “Well?” she asks him, fingers drumming impatient sparkles against her leg.

“Unconscious, poisoned, cursed, minor wounds and fatigue. Nothing serious.”

“Then get on with it, Hardrad!”

The fidgeter scowls at her, but begins to mumble nonsense again. Joe jumps down the cart and stands stubbornly beside it, waiting for the promised payment and hoping that that list of major bad conditions won't cut into it. He never promised to bring the woman out in good shape after all.

The woman's eyes suddenly snap open, still dull and witless. Joe swallows and braces his back against the cart. Bramble whines softly and leans against his leg, so he puts one hand down to fuss her without moving his gaze from the scene in front of him. At that moment, the fidgeter touches the woman's forehead again and all the life and sense suddenly blazes back into her eyes.

“Well,” she says, “that was an interesting experience.”

“Karen, you idiot,” her sister retorts, pulling the woman to her feet and hugging her, “you said that the day we took a side trip to Hades. Can't you think of something new for once?”

“Not right now,” Karen replies grinning. “Too busy thinking of other things. Like the fact my carter's still around.”

The elf woman glances over her shoulder at Joe. “Oh yes. Wants paying I expect.” And with that she tosses a tiny package at Joe and strolls off with her sister.

Joe picks the package up from where it landed at his feet and swears silently and profusely after them…

Posted on 2009/10/18

Joe shoves the package into his belt pouch, glares after the adventurers one last time and stomps off down the road without getting so much as a thank you for his troubles. He isn't stupid enough to leave the cart and animals behind though, and when he has managed to get out of the adventurers' sight, he pauses just long enough to swing up onto the driver's seat and flick the reins.

Not until evening does he stop and then he spends more time than usual taking care of the animals before he finally pulls out the package and glares at it. Setting it carefully in the grass at arms length, he pulls out a knife, cuts the binding string and the uses the knife tip to peel open the wrappings. Two tiny items and a scrap of parchment tumble into the grass and Joe curses fiercely before he gingerly retrieves them. One tiny brown vial - unlabelled. One ceramic feather engraved with a bird. And a note that says only: Payment agreed. Plus one time call.

Like either of them are going to be any good!

Joe makes his way sullenly home to Freetown, delivers the fake cartload to a different warehouse than the one he collected it from and stuffs the useless packet to the very back of the topmost shelf where he doesn't have to look at it. Then he stubbornly gets on with life, picking up town jobs from warehouse to warehouse and business to business, feeding the animals, feeding himself, keeping the little stable and house clean and stocked.

Then, just as he is coming home from a day's warehouse work, he finds a messenger waiting outside his home with a written message from Freetown's mayor requesting 'the presence of one Joe Wood, at the Town Hall' in two days time…

Posted on 2009/10/31

Joe takes the message and spreads it out on the table inside, biting his lip. What does the mayor want with him? He hasn't done anything. Or if he has, he can't think of it. Taxes? Better not look too rich then. Better to look plain and poor and unremarkable and be dismissed quickly.

He rummages through the assorted clothes for something suitable. He settles on dark green breeches (two darmed knees), an ordinary white shirt and a brown tunic (mended across the shoulder). Brown boots (scuffed) and belt (well-worn) finish the outfit.

On the day, he feeds the animals, cleans up under the pump and pulls on the chosen clothes. He hesitates over his knives and then just takes a single belt knife for eating with. Wind and rain make him grab for a cloak as he leaves and he finds himself holding the fancier green cloak. After a moment, he shrugs and throws it round his shoulders. A cloak is a cloak after all. He can take it off before the mayor sees him.

Bramble bounces after him, but Joe shoves her back and shuts the door on her. “Sorry, Bramble. Not this time.” Then he bites his lip and walks down the steps and out of the gate, closing it behind him and hoping nothing will go wrong.

He trudges slowly through the weather to the central Town Hall. It looms above him, all fancy achitechture and windows and Joe swears softly to give himself the courage to go through with this and not turn and run home.

Finally he walks forward and pushes the door open. At least the place is dry and sheltered from the wind, he thinks as he walks in. A voice from just inside says, “Ah, good, you made it, in spite of the weather.” And Joe turns to see the brown guard Alek standing there…

Posted on 2009/11/15

Joe opens his mouth to snap a question, but Alek shakes his head and Joe snaps his mouth shut instead. Alek nods quickly in approval and tilts his head towards an inner doorway. “Come through to the guardroom, there's a fire there and your cloak will dry better.” He turns that way and looks back over his shoulder at Joe.

Joe sighs and follows him, the wet cloak chafing against his neck.

Alek drops back beside Joe and says in a rapid undertone, “You'll be seeing the current mayor. He likes to think he knows everything and is in control of everything, so don't cross him or he'll find some nasty legal way to get rid of you. Stick to 'Yes my lord' and 'No my lord' as much as you can and don't correct him if he gets something wrong. Understand?”

“Yes,” Joe says curtly. “I understand. Keep him happy.”

“Good.” Alek opens the door to a small, warmish room containing the promised fire and helps Joe off with the wet cloak, hanging it on a peg beside the fireplace. “Soon dry there, sir.” The other two guards in the room look up briefly, nod to Alek and return to their weapon cleaning.

“If you'd like to leave your dagger here, sir, we'll keep an eye on it,” Alek adds before Joe can work out that the “sir” being addressed is him. He squirms inside even as he slides the sheathed knife off his belt and hands it over.

“Thank you, sir. If you'd like to wait here a moment, I'll go and see if the Lord Mayor is ready for you yet.”

Joe decides not to betray all the sirring by opening his mouth and speaking with his most definitely common accent, so he just nods briefly and moves towards the fire, hoping to dry out a bit before he has to go back out into the rain. Just as the heat is beginning to penetrate his damp clothes, Alek returns and beckons him.

“His Lordship will see you now, sir.”

Joe nods again and follows Alek out. When the door has closed behind them, Joe hisses, “What was all that about? I'm no sir!”

“Camoflage,” Alek replies. “The other guards won't chatter to or about people high enough to be called 'sir'. Or did you want them carrying every rumour and tale to his Lordship? Better in my view that you stay out of his way and do the work we need without noising it around.”

“Rumours aren't even accurate,” Joe snaps back. “And I can do with less of them around.”

Alek nods as he pauses in front of a grand pair of doors. “Thought so. Anyway, we're here. Remember, call him 'my lord' and say as little as possible. Good luck.”

“Thanks…” Joe steps through the opened door and into the room beyond. There is a single man seated at the head of a long table and two more standing behind the seated man. Taking a deep breath, Joe walks slowly forward and stops just short of the table's foot, trying not to flinch. The seated man is the same lord who threw him and his family off the farm when his father died…

Posted on 2009/11/29

Joe links his hands behind him and looks up as innocently as he can manage. One of the men behind the lord, he realises, is the Captain of the town guard. The captain shakes his head fractionally just as the lord spits out the first question.

“You have a name, boy?”

“I'm Joe, my lord.” Joe wonders whether the lord recognises him from the harvest feasts and the work in his lordship's fields.

“What do you do for your living, Joe?”

“I hire out at the market, my lord.”

“Casual labour? Don't you have anywhere to work?”

“Nothing permanent, my lord.”

“Born in this town, boy?”

“No, my lord.”

“Humph. Then where?”

“On a farm, my lord.”

“Then why leave?”

“There was no work for me there, my lord.” Joe can't see any recognition in the lord's face and relaxes a little.

“I see.” The lord pauses, frowning at Joe, and then says, “I hear you've done good work for Freetown.”

Joe remembers Alek's advice to say as little as possible and decides to stick with saying simply, “My lord?”

“Oh don't be so humble, boy. Fighting that fire, cleaning rats out of a stable, alerting people to thieves is all good work. Captain Frent here even tells me you've done some carting for the town guard.”

Joe supposes driving a cart into a horrid town to risk his neck getting some info counts as carting - of a sort. “Yes, my lord. I've taken a cart where the guard told me to.”

The Captain smiles thinly over the lord's head.

“Well.” The lord settles back in his chair, and seems to half forget Joe. “Good work should be rewarded.” He waves a hand. The third man places a bag of coins and a piece of folded parchment on the table before stepping back again.

Joe stays where he is until another wave tells him he can take it. “Thank you, my lord.” He bows quickly, scoops up both items and backs out, very relieved to get out of there unharmed…

Posted on 2009/12/13

As the door closes behind him, Joe starts to shake with reaction. He manages to move a few paces across the hall before he leans against a wall for support. A moment later, he finds the brown guard Alek at his elbow saying, “You ok? What happened in there? How did it go?”

“It went - ok. I think. He didn't recognise me anyway.”

“You didn't say you knew him!”

“I didn't know!” Joe protests. “You only said he was the mayor. You didn't say he was a lord. You didn't say his name. How was I to know he was the man whose word ran my family's life for 15 years?”

“He was your lord?”

“My father's lord.”

“Why did you leave then and come here if he was here too?”

“Because,” Joe snarls back, pushing away from the wall and turning to face Alek, “I didn't know! I didn't know damn anything except the farm - and I didn't have that anymore, thanks to that lord!”

“What did he do?”

“My father died, so he threw the rest of us off our farm.”

Alek looks at Joe long and hard before he says softly, “How did your father die?”

“An accident,” Joe says shortly.

“Ok…” Alek takes a deep breath and seems about to add something else. Then he shakes his head. “What else happened in there?”

“He asked a lot of questions. And gave me this.” Joe holds out the bag and paper. “Take them if you want. I don't want anything off him. Not one single thing.”

Alek hefts the bag as he unfolds the paper. Joe wheels away and starts down the hall towards the guard room and his knife and cloak. Behind him, Alek croaks, “Wait. Wait!”

Joe stops for a moment and looks over his shoulder. “Well, come on then. I want to get out of here.”

Alek hurries after him and shoves the paper back at him.

“Keep it,” Joe snaps.

“I can't.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Alek snaps back, “it's citizenship papers for you. I can't use them. Only you can.”

“They're what?”

“Citizenship papers. Count yourself lucky - not many people from outside town con those out of the mayor.”

“And what use are they?”

Alek shrugs. “You can own land and property within Freetown, carry weapons without needing a permit, vote for the low council if you want…”

Joe's hand drops to his belt where he usually carries a knife. “But - I already do that.”

“True enough,” Alek replies. “The captain can be persuaded to bend the rules on occasion - in a good enough cause. That bit of paper just makes you legal….”

Posted on 2009/12/20

As Joe pulls on the cloak he retrieved from the guardroom and straps on his knife, Alek reappears from a brief errand and drops the bag back into Joe's hand.

“Captain says you're to keep this,” Alek informs Joe. “It isn't from the mayor, it's a retainer for and from the guard. He says to buy yourself another decent knife with it if you don't want to keep it and to keep your eyes open for anything you think we need to know. We won't rule your life, but we'd like to use your skills from time to time. ALL your skills.”

Joe looks at the bag and pulls a face. It's the same bag and probably the same contents as the mayor gave him. It isn't from the mayor though, which makes a bit of difference and it isn't money for nothing either. This is money for work - which is something he understands. Clearly the guard understands it too, since they'd rather hire him for work than give him gifts at random (although he is still glad of the house he got out of them for his trip to Shiny's town.)

Unlike the mayor, the guard doesn't sit around stealing people's farms and homes and then smirking about it. Hefting the bag one last time, Joe makes a decision. He won't buy a knife with this. What he will do is use it to pay for as much revenge and defiance of the mayor as he can get away with, without spoiling things for the people who actually have to work for their livings.

He stuffs the bag into his pocket along with the papers and heads for home and Bramble - the one piece of defiance against this lord and mayor that he already has…

Posted on 2010/01/15

Joe shoves the citizenship papers beside the other useless packet and gets on with his life while he keeps his eyes open for revenge opportunities. A few weeks later, he is waiting for his cart to be unloaded when he recognises Den among the workers and bites his lip to stop himself from laughing. There are more forms of revenge than just one.

His eyes light on the oddly light wooden shield Den has tossed aside with such deceitful casualness and he grins. Same old tricks for Den, clearly. He can remember the arguments about shields from the Caslen guilds and the way some insisted that the special darkwood would make the spiked shields too light to be used and others insisted that it wasn't so.

He summons Den with a crooked finger and tells him bluntly, “1 gold for your toy shield.”

Den squares his shoulders and stares straight at Joe, but doesn't seem to recognise him in his smart clothes. “Worth more than that for a real good shield. 10 gold.”

“For a real shield, maybe. That one's just a toy and not even the strength or weight to work in practice. 2 gold.”

“5 gold is what it's worth.”

Joe shakes his head. “I cart to the Armor and Weapon guilds in Caslen. I know a real shield when I see it, and that isn't one. 3 gold. You won't get a price like that anywhere else.”

Den hesitates for a long moment and Joe knows he has him. Joe quietly slides 3 of the revenge gold out from behind his belt and lets just a gleam of it show in his half open hand.

“I'll take it,” Den finally growls, and Joe trades the 3 useless coins for the darkwood buckler, tucks it under the wagon seat and heads home, paid and unloaded - and grinning…

This game is DMed by Heros_Backpack from the wizards.com boards. He holds the copyright to all content.

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