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Chapter Two
The rain that had dogged our trip south continued the morning of our first full day in Florenz but I didn’t give a shit. I’d had a bath, slept in a bed behind a locked door, eaten a meal I hadn’t had to cook; and most importantly, Miri and I had managed to grab a good hour of privacy for ourselves while Sariel had used the bathing room to wash both herself and some clothing. Having just fed on Liza, Miri was a randy as a teenage male. That was pretty usual for her after she’s fed. Sometimes that can be a pain but last night it had been heaven. Though; I did have to use a magic ritual to ‘freshen’ up the sheets afterwards.
So, as we all headed to the mustering hall to look for work, Miri and I had that ‘I had great sex last night’ step. My greatly improved outlook on life didn’t stop me from dressing for the weather though. Along with our beaver felt Tricornc hats Miri and I continued to wear our heavy leather great coats that had served us both well over the past few years. Along with being magicked to keep the rain and cold out, both had been reinforced across the chest and in the joints by boiled leather plates that added the extra protection that sellswords needed today to defend against the many monsters (both on two and four legs) that were a hazard of the job. Miri had taken the protection a step further by riveting dozens of metal scales across the shoulders and collar to provide some extra protection she felt she needed from the powerful down strokes from weapons that she often faced due to her being smaller than many of her opponents.
Sariel on the other hand.
Sariel had, once again, dressed to the dictates of her personal sense of ‘mercenary’ fashion. The bottom layer had started with one of her silk blouses, a blue so bright it almost glowed, with multiple layers of silk along the arms causing the sleeves to puff out three to four times their regular size. Overtop this she wore what appeared to be plates of boiled leather dyed black. From a distance, it looked to be a rich noble’s steel half-plate right down to the gold filigree on the otherwise black surface. But what really took the cake for me were the skin tight black leather pants. First they left nothing to the imagination as to the shape of her lower body, but I had to wonder how she was able to bend over let alone move. Yet she did move; as easy as she was in a pair of light wool hose. Over top of her ‘armour’ Sariel wore a heavy cloak of black and blue wool that did little to allow the Fey to ‘blend in’ her surroundings.
“You do not have clothing rituals in the Mid Reich?” was her only response when I asked about her clothing; as if that explained everything.
Of course, all three of us ‘accessorized’ our looks: translation we were armed to the teeth. We were heading to a sellsword guild hall after all, and showing that you were at least competent enough with your weapons to carry them correctly was the first step in getting work.
I was the lightest armed with just Thunder and Lightning my two stilettos which helped me to better channel my magical powers, belted at my waist. Belted around Sariel’s waist were a fighting dagger and one-handed arming sword set that were coloured to be perfect accessories to her armour. And just because they were cool the Fey had a hilt of a throwing dagger protruding from the top of each of her boots. Miri had a similar set of blades around her waist though hers were an original Old Empire short sword and thrusting dagger that had been in her family for centuries. They’re clean efficient lines were completely unlike her other family gift, the five-foot longsword that she wore over one shoulder. That weapon had been created by both by design and magic to inflict nasty jagged wounds in an opponent. Miri cleaned and oiled the blade daily and I’d never seen her do so without drawing blood before she’d been done.
The muster hall was a blockhouse that had once been part of the city’s inner defences. When the Guilds had taken over; the Mercenary Guild had quickly formed, and taken it as its headquarters. Since that time the Mercenary Guild had been the place where employers came when they wanted competent and more importantly reliable sellswords in the Southern Imperium.
It wasn’t really that much to look at from an aesthetic perspective. It was a large square building with its second story larger than the first. Each of the stories were made of foot thick stone covered with loopholes and arrow slits to allow everything from gunpowder weapons to war bows and spells to be used in the building’s defence. Presently only the upper story loopholes could be effectively used though. The lower stories’ defences being covered by layers of cheap paper sheets and flower paste so thick that is looked as if the walls had been whitewashed. The sheets were either posted by potential employers announcing contracts or by various mercenary groups themselves advertising for work. I took it as a hopeful sign that many of the sheets were new and there seemed to be a large crowd of sellswords of all race and types around the walls checking the latest posting.
“Sariel how literate are you in low Dwarf?” I asked.
“About as good as that language allows anyone to be considered ‘literate’,” she replied.
I bristled a bit at her dig at the first language I learned my letters with, but let that pass. “Good: go with Miri and check out the posted jobs. We’re looking for garrison or patrol work, not caravans. If you see something that looks promising show it to Miri.” I said.
“Alright and where will you be?” she asked.
Before I answered I pulled out a silver steel medallion maybe four centimetres across. It was on a chain of similar metal from my belt pouch of holding. Hanging it from my neck I said, “I’m a member in good standing of The Guild so I’m allowed inside the blockhouse itself.”
The Fey looked at me quizzically trying to understand why that was significant.
“Guild officials always have the freshest gossip, and recruiters aren’t allowed to post their sheets until they’ve been stamped by the guild. So, I can peruse the line and get first shot at any jobs before they’re posted,” I said answering her unspoken question.
Once Sariel understood, she immediately saw the logic and sent me with a shooing motion towards the entrance. I gave her a smile and with Riley on my shoulder ventured inside the building.
I was met with a visible wall of tobacco smoke mixed with the smell of unwashed male bodies, gunpowder, half a dozen mixtures used to water proof oil skin and I don’t know how many brands of perfume which were supposed to cover up those other smells.
“I think I’ll keep Miri company outside,” said Riley as he stuffed his beak behind my ear and deep under my collar.
“Oh no you don’t I need you here, besides I know you’ve dealt with worst,” I said.
“I knew that there were eyes in that mix, I just had to find them. Here there’s nothing to nibble on,” replied my familiar.
“Sasha!” screamed a high, very female, voice from across the room.
With a big smile, I turned and saw Keira of Quellwasser come running towards me a big smile on her face. Before I knew it, I was engulfed in a hug that brought tears to my eyes. Not because of any great physical strength on Keira’s part but because of her complete lack of hygiene, but that was Keira. If she had cared to, she could have gained great wealth and prestige as a court wizard; and advisor to kings, a merchant prince or even guild head. Not because mages of all sorts are rare today; you can’t swing a cat, dead or otherwise, without hitting a spellcaster, but because she’s that good. That and the fact that if she cared about her personal presence at all, she’d have her pick of suitors. But that wasn’t Keira; like many of the book mages who actually could cast more than just rituals, Keira had issues. Not the least of which was not understanding why she should wash occasionally just because everyone else did.
“Sasha! How are you? Where’s Miri? I know you’re still with her because I can tell you two had sex last night,” she said in a voice drill sergeants would have been proud of.
I suddenly felt every eye turn towards me with far more interest than was proper. “She’s outside with a new friend,” I said in a quiet voice. As I did so I gestured to her to lower her volum
e.
Keira saw the gesture and her cheeks turned red in embarrassment. She then said in a much quieter voice “Sorry I’m just so excited to see you. Roland has a new contract and we’ve formed a new company to meet it. We’re near full but I’m sure he’d never miss an opportunity to have two survivors of the Siliean plains join.”
As she finished the young book mage’s eyes finally registered Riley’s presence on my shoulder. “Hello Riley I hope you’re well,” she said at a near whisper her eyes downcast. It was like she became a different person but being afraid of birds was just another Keiraisum.
“I am well; thank you Keira,” said Riley with as much formality as I’ve ever heard from the bird.
I doubt the book mage actually heard him; having turned her full attention back to me. She asked her voice rising in volume once again. “Where are you staying?”
“We’ve a room in The Taleless Rat,” I said.
“Roland and I know the place. We’re having a dinner with the officers and senior specialists tonight. I’ll have a carriage come at evening bell to pick you up. It will be so nice to have some friendly faces at the table,” she said, the speed of her talk increased as the idea formed in her head.
“Keira, you do remember that Miri and Roland didn’t part on the best of terms don’t you,” I said cautiously.
“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” replied the book mage with a degree of conviction I completely lacked.