Chapter Three

The roads between Mehonoris and Dominia, though paved, did little to appease the absolute boredom that was beginning to fall upon the travelers. By the third night Alder was beginning to notice a slight agitation to the crew of the caravan. They were farmers from their look, hard hands and furrowed brows, and seemed to only know the basics of most of their current jobs. Still, the caravan chugged along ever further through the wilderness and wilds kept at bay by the road.

Jeann seemed well adjusted, but Alder had expected that from the start. Jeanns was a life of cart and combat, stopping only to turn in jobs or find more. During the days she would sit guard alongside the driver simply to change up the ride, or she’d tend to her armor and inspect its fitted pieces while making minor adjustments where possible. At nights however, Jeann would train or drink with the locals, grabbing soldiers or other Pere in for informal contest. Often winning.

For the most part, Alder kept to himself and busied his mind with the tomes he’d neglected over the months for his recent ambitious discovery. Failed discovery. He thought. He’d given so much of his time chasing the rumours in the beginning, so much wasted time. Even acquiring the thing had nearly cost him injury! To have it all just turn out to be useless… 

No he thought Not useless, just not useful for me. It’ll help someone, it has to.

“Has to?” Jeann asked suddenly

In his reading and thinking he’d failed to notice the group coming to a stop and the Armored Pere opening the door. He’d also said his thought aloud without realizing, which alone was a more disconcerting prospect. He quickly shoved the tome back into his pack and faced her.

“Nothing. Why have we stopped?” 

If there was any suspicion to her expression, it was beyond Alders comprehension, but she seemed uninterested in following the thread. She turned to look further down the road and when her face returned it was with a grave expression that wrapped him in foreboding.

“Bandits, we think.”
Alder unhinged his sides door and stepped out onto the harshly paved road and dancing winds. It was cooler than he had expected, cooler than in the carriage anyhow. He drew in a breathe and savored the crispness of the day, which was ruined shortly after by the slow encroaching forms of people riding towards their group and spread across the entire road. From their size they seemed to be at a distance, but closing the gap quickly. 

“What should we do?” The driver asked frantically. He nearly stumbled out of his elevated seat and hurriedly to the rear of the cart. 

“Are you trained to fight?” Jeann asked. The driver gave no verbal response, instead Alder could see the hair whipping as they shook their head. “Thats what I thought. Alder!”

Alder pulled his shortened metal spear from the carts roof and nodded towards her. 

“Already on it.”

“Good, so what do you want to do? I haven’t seen you fight in a while, could be fun to-”

“No,” 

“What?” Jeanns face was twisted in abrupt confusion. “Im sorry?”

“I don’t want to fight if we don’t have to. Maybe we can talk with them?”

Jeann rested the heft of her longsword on her armored shoulder and shook her head. 

“You want to talk? With bandits? Really?”

“If I can avoid the fight I’d much rather do so.”

“Is this what they teach you to do?” Jeann laughed coldly “It’s no wonder you all die so often.” 

Alder didn’t have a response to that, it was true and well founded. The Battle Mages that joined and became Pere were more often killed on jobs. Wild rumours were often spread after, claiming the lengths that had been taken to kill such a “Dangerous member of the Academy”. They’d embelish and exaggerate, making the group out to be some myth. Even the humblest of legends often overstated their talents and skills. 

In reality the term “Battle Mage” wasn’t even an apt description of the titles occupants. Most were arcanists with little to no control or potential, or failed knights with only the barest control over some talents. More often than not, Battle mages weren’t even close to a “Mage”. They were well versed in the Empires current knowledge of the Arcane and Ethereal of course, but that too only extended so far. So much was still being discovered daily, and theories changed regularly. That sort of class demographic did little bolster their ranks with gifted fighters. Alder alone had been the best in his class, even called on by the Knights Educators for demonstration in a pinch, but he had only middle of the pack in the tournaments and trials. 

“It’d be best for us all if we could avoid any bloodshed. Last thing we need is for the city guards to pass by.”

“Too far.” Jeann shot back “City guard doesn’t come this far out, we’re still a day or two away.”

“So what do You suppose? Throat slitting?” Alder mocked

“In cleaner words, but yes thats about the sum of it.”

With each passing moment the sounds of the coming party grew louder, surprising Alder with the noise for some so distant. When he returned to face the group he saw why, the majority of the coming brigade was Dwarven. Jeann laughed stepped back towards the driver. 

“Alright Alder, bunch of angry dwarf bandits on their way right for us. All yours. Just scream out that you were wrong when you need help.”

“What?!” He tried to puzzle out her actions, trying to determine whether it was just another joke. When the party arrived and the “highly decorated soldier and Pere with loads of experience” that he realized it was, indeed, the opposite. 

“It’s what you wanted, right? Talk with them!” Jeann shouted. 

“Talk to us?” A low screeching voice asked “ye hear that lads? They plan on talkin to us.” The dwarf spat towards alders feet 

Here you go Alder, heres your chance you’ve been begging for. Heres your chance to try your impossible task and die a martyr. Alder chuckled at that thought, his own nihilism growing even beyond him. He didn’t have a plan, and had no time to make one. Improvisation was atleast something he was passible at. He hoped.

Alder took a beat and slowed his racing heart, willing the entirety of his being to function as instructed and stick to the task at hand. His mind was buzzing with possible moves, options, pleas, and he was finding deciding on a course of actions was becoming difficult. With so little spoken and no way to get a good read on them, he couldn’t just fall back on a vague and open idea. The realization that he’d barely prepared for this exact occasion was drowned from his mind as the darting movement of two dwarves broke the peace. 

Alder pulled back narrowly from a widely telegraphed swing to his right, and pulled up his short spear just in time to block the overhead from the second. His spear held high to guard his face and feet spaced, Alder spoke calmly without shifting or dropping eye contact. 

“This isn’t a fight we need to have. I’m a Pere, surely you’re aware of what that means.” 

“Right!” crowed the dwarf to his left, a broad set of interlocking chain tattoos winding across his face. “Bunch’a murderers doin the Kings biddin.” His accent was strange, nothing like the first mans. From the East maybe?

“Please-” Alders plead was interrupted by a small blast of flame crashing at his feet. A tall elf with long dark hair and light pinkish skin stepped forward, the crimson and gold of his robes sleeve glimmer in the light of his crackling palm. 

“We don’t have to do this, you’re very right young Pere. You could leave behind all you own and walk away right now, and none here would attack you as you left.” The elves words were eloquent in speech but malicious in tone. 

“ ‘ome on, Pe-re,” the bald dwarf on his right, seeming to be spilling over with eager desires to lett blood.  “Show us what ye got!”

“Come now Pere,” Chimed the elf happily “Surely you don’t think you can take on two armed dwarves and an Arcanist. I know you all are foolish, but you can’t be that foolish.”

“No, I agree. It isn’t my intention to fight you three, in truth i’d like it very much if we could solve this amicably. Perhaps we could offer you a few loaves of bread from the town not far back, we should still have some.”

“Hm. Peculiar offer. I decline.” A smug grin came across the elfs face “Any others?”

“A few odds and ends from recent trades along the coast, maybe they’d-”

“No.”

“A few pieces of Gold then. A healthy payout for fine settlers like yourselves, trying to make it out there in the hard wilderness.”

To this the elf actually laughed. 

“Closer, but no.”

“I believe i’m sensing a pattern here.” Alder said.

“Just end him.” Tattoos sneered “We can kill him quickly and then fight the knight. I think that one’d put up more of a fight.” his eyes fixed Jeann with a glare of disgust and hate.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with my companions here. This really has gone on too long for so little action.”

With that the elf flung a glob like ball of flame towards Alders feet, while the two along his side attempted a cut or stab. Alder jumped back in time to dodge the flames but only managed to block his left, and he landed with a long slice across his shoulders fabric. The two dwarves tried to press the attack while the elf was summoning another shot, but two quick deflects with force sent their weapons to the side. 

Both dwarves exposing their respective sides to him, Alder made two quick flourishes and nicked the duos face. The cuts were shallow and the spears tip barely managed to connect at all, but the reactions from the two made it clear that it had achieved his intention. The two dwarves shared a confused glance and reasserted their efforts, though with a bit more caution this time. 

A feeling like cold ice spilling through Alders veins spread rapidly from his chest as Alder focused on the spear in his hand. The blade and spiked ends seeming to shake slightly before snapping out to a full length spear. The Elf paused and whistled in admiration.

“I’ve not seen a toy like that before. You must have some very gifted friends to have something like that.”

The magic used to extend the spear evaporated and the normal heat inside returned, a welcome feeling of relief following. Magic took more out of him than most, and he could only handle a tiny bit of it at that. With so little practice, even that basic use nearly left him momentarily winded. Alder pushed aside the strain and nerves, choosing instead to focus on the Arcanist directly ahead, another spell prepared. 

If he was to have any chance on not being surrounded then he’d need to keep on the retreat, then again, if he pressed the attack and took the two out the Arcanist would be far easier to handle. The two dwarves stood imposing, their snarling faces bearing the rage emerging. In their steps forward Alder could see his move. Hinder the duos ability to fight back and try again with the Arcanist. It was crazy and had nearly no chance of playing out how he hoped, but Alder still adjusted his guard to draw in the attackers.

Tattoos took the bait first, charging like an idiot with axe flailing and screaming. It was a poor choice, and one Alder capitalized on easily. Barely missing a breath, he swung the spear low and struck the side of his leg, sending the off balance dwarf sideways. Continuing the momentum and seeing the bald man beginning to move, Alder brought the spear back into his grip and jabbed towards his chest. 

The unarmored fabric shredded and the spear tip dug into the flesh an inch, the sudden pain drove the bald dwarf reeling and with the surprise Alder swung the spear around and cracked the side of his head. The dwarf fell limp, landing aside his broken legged companion. The flames scorched Alders back and splashed against his armor, sizzling bits of the strong fabric and causing an unsavory smell to fill the air. 

“Okay Pere, just you and me now.” The elfs voice was shaking, though he still seemed firm enough to stand his ground.

“Again, we don’t have to continue this. You and these two, and all the others behind you could just walk away from this.” Alders breathing was steadier than he’d expected for the encounter, but the elfs glowing hands gave no indication of rest.

“Enough!” The elf flung his hand forward and a small barrage of thin balls of flame shot forward towards Alder. 

His mind clearer than he’d have thought, and his body less pained, Alder chose to answer the attack with a single pulse of magical energy directed through the spear. He swung once, making sure to cut the projectiles path and dashed. As his foot pressed and his body began to shift, Alder felt himself flung harshly the short distance to the Elf. Without a word, Alder sliced shallow across his chest and whacked his head. 

As the elf fell, Alder could see the surprised faces of the remaining Dwarves. By a quick count the number seemed double digits at the least, a much larger party than he’d have expected. He waited anxiously for one of the others to move or speak, knowing full well that any hopes of an easy exit had likely been shattered alongside tattoos leg. 

“I’ll say again,” Alder spoke with more confidence than he felt and straightened his back. “Walk away now.” 

Instead of silence, he found a deep bellowing laugh that actually sounded sincere. The noise rose the attention of a few of the head dwarves, who turned around and moved aside after spotting someone. It took only moments for Alder to see who, an average looking dwarf with long black hair, a tied beard, and dozens of scars across his exposed flesh. He bore a wide toothy grin and held a cheerful demeaner as he approached. 

“Okay Pere. Let’s have a chat, shall we?” The Dwarf asked slyly.