Lands of Brixia

Almost Drafted!

After their strange encounter at the Skolos family crypt, Maysor, Savoir and Tasius agree to meet at the Outer City Coast Gate, the next morning. Tasius, hearing no word from the Hedge-Knight, Maysor , takes Maysor’s horses and wagon to the Coast Gate- arriving just before sunrise.

In short order, young Savoir walks up, with the High Elf Witch, Sasiria, in tow. Merchants and farmers begin to slowly fill the cobbled street, loudly hawking their wares. Sursiria, impatient as ever, holds out her arm, as Tasius , grinning like a schoolboy, helps her up into the wagon. After surmising that he would get no word of thanks, Tasius began securing the party’s supplies.

Savoir, never one to do too much work, leaned up against a wagon wheel, taking in the scenery and breathing in the cold, salty, morning air. Savoir sighed; first light in Athos was always a sight to behold. Sunlight shimmered off of the calm Outer City canals. The city seemed to be at peace now- at rest. In a scant few hours, it would awaken; turning into a surging, hungry beast.

“Heya, boy!” Savoir turned around, as a pair of Athos City Militia walked up to the wagon.

The older of the two guardsmen walked up to Savoir, as the other caught sight of Sursiria, stopping to lean up against the wagon. Savoir took a step back, glancing around. The older guardsman pointed a thick, stubby finger in Savoir’s chest.

“You, ‘gazzo! What’s your name, eh?”

Savoir, looking up at the guardsman with puppy-eyes, grinned. “Who, me?”

The guardsman leaned in towards Savoir, eyes narrowing. “Don’t play games with me, you little merda! How old are you?”

Seeing no way out of the situation, Savoir answered hesitantly: “Seventeen summers, give or take!” Where this conversation was going, Savoir had no idea.

“Are ye in a trades-guild or merchant-guild? I can look at ye and see that you belong to no noble house, although you don’t appear to be a street urchin!” The guard sniffed. “You don’t smell like no urchin either!”

Savoir patted his pockets, pretending to search for something. “I-I seem to have misplaced my guild-papers somewhere…”

“You had better find something, ‘gazzo, or you’ll be serving your two years of guard duty- just like all the rest your age!”

Sursiria glared straight ahead as the younger guardsman grinned up at her. Turning to Tasius, the guard belched. “Hey! Are you part of a trade caravan?”

Tasius tried to keep a straight face as he turned to the guard. “Nope, we’re headed north. I am on a mission of the Church of Vexus. That’s why I am wearing priestly robes, you see.”

The guardsman blinked. “Erk! My apologies, your holy-ship! I didn’t realize-!”

Sursiria let out a long, impatient sigh. The guardsman, reminded of his original interest, turned again to the elven woman.

“Lemme see your face. I bet you are very pretty under them robes! No disrespect, your honor-ness, of course!” He nodded towards Tasius. “Uh, she isn’t no priest is she? I sure hope not!”

Tasius snickered softly and cleared his throat. “No, she is not a woman of the cloth. In fact, she may put a hex on you. She is the companion of the boy.”

If Tasius could have seen Sursiria’s eyes, he would have seen them smolder with anger at his words. The city guardsman turned in surprise, looking at Sursiria, then Savoir. With a whimper, the guard spat on the ground and quickly spun around three times.

“The mage-woman is with that one? Why, he still has his mother’s milk behind his ears!” The guardsmen called over to his partner, who was still interrogating Savoir.

Savoir groaned as the second guard came quickly walking over. He looked up at the sky. Why, by the gods, why? The younger guard walked up to Savoir, grabbing him by the arm.

“Manny, the priest says that this runt is the woman’s lover! He also said that the woman is a mage! Have you ever heard of such a thing, eh?” The older guard looked at the younger for a moment, then slowly turned to Tasius. Tasuis grinned, holding his holy symbol up so it shone in the morning sun. The older guard softly cursed and smacked the younger guardsman on the neck, with a ‘whack’!

“Our apologies, your holiness! Forgive us for delaying you this long. May the gods watch over you!” Then, turning to Savoir, the guard whispered: “We will meet again, boy. And when we do- watch out!” Then the two men walked up the street, into the thickening crowd.

As he climbed into the front seat of the wagon, Tasius wondered what had happened to Maysor. He hadn’t known the man-at-arms for very long, but it still seemed strange that he disappeared without a trace. Had this city swallowed him up, as it did so many others? With a groan, the wagon leaned to one side. The warrior-woman, Brynhild heaved herself into the back of the wagon.

“Let’s get this trip underway!” Grinning, she gingerly placed her pack and a worn wine-skin next to her feet, on the wagon’s floor. Through a mouth full of bread, she mumbled: “Anyone hungry?”

And with a flick of the reigns, Tasius led the horse-drawn wagon through the Coast Gate and out of the city of Athos.



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