I walk along the eastern road, watching the sparse farmland that surrounds the city go by. Many of these farms look like they’re on their last legs, I can’t imagine that they provide food for the whole city. As I walk by one that seems abandoned, I see a sign that reads: The sign looks like it was once nailed into the wall of the farmhouse, but now it hangs at an angle, looking as abandoned as the rest of the farm. I briefly wonder if I could get away with hiding in the farmhouse, but it’s just too close to the city to be safe, so I keep walking.
It feels weird, leaving the city I’ve spent my entire life in, even if it’s never really been a good experience. All I’ve really known of the city is growing up in an orphanage so underfunded, you might as well call it unfunded, and then aging out and being a homeless thief. It is still the only thing I know though. I mean technically, I was born somewhere else, as my parents died when I was a baby, but the matron at the orphanage did tell me they weren’t originally from Solcept. That was about all she knew though. I let out a sigh as I walk, some trees and other foliage finally appearing alongside one side of the road. I wish I knew more about my parents, but I’m not sure it’s even possible to find anything out, the orphanage certainly didn’t know anything, so where would I even look for answers. My hand absentmindedly rises to my necklace, fingering the blue gemstone, the only remnant of my parents I have. Ugh, I don’t even know if I should miss them! They did voluntarily move to Solcept, and possibly Libertaria after all, it’s not really a place people chose to live if they can avoid it. Maybe they were zealots, like Bisolian converts or something. I shudder at the thought.
The orphanage gave us lessons in Bisolian Supremacy, of course. Pretty sure if they didn’t they’d all be branded heretical criminals, but it just never stuck with me for whatever reason. What have the twin gods ever done for me, anyway? I’ll survive just fine without any gods, thank you very much.
As I head further away from the city, and the trees grow more numerous on the left hand side of the road, I can’t help but feel a rising panic at the fact that I have absolutely no plan. I know that eventually this eastern road will lead to the border, but I’m not sure I could even make it that far, and it’s probably a bad idea anyway. I’ve only ever heard the country we share a border with spoken about once, but it was a bunch of awful rumours about people there being violent. I have no idea what to do, I’m so fucked.
After a while more of following the road, the twin suns are high in the sky and I notice a small gathering of people up ahead. I slow my pace as I approach them; people haven’t exactly been the most welcoming throughout my life. As I get closer I can make out what seems to be a man near the front of a wagon, talking with the driver—up on the front of the wagon—and some other people stood nearby. The man is broad shouldered and clearly well built, and the clothes he wears are on the finer side. There are also two women standing against the side of the wagon with that kind of casual ease that speaks to a level of deadliness that I wouldn’t want to mess with. One of the women has a giant bow slung over her back, that looks almost too big for her to wield it. The other doesn’t have a weapon that I can see, but my best guess is that they’re both guards for whatever this wagon is.
As I’m about to walk past the wagon, the small group of people walk on from the wagon, muttering to themselves. The man sees me about to walk past and calls out in a booming voice, “Ho! You there!” I pause and turn to face him. “Come, come over here,” he says, beckoning.
I nervously walk over to the man, “Y-yes? What is it?” I ask him, trying to keep the four of them in my sight. They don’t look like military, and generally the Libertarian Front is too full of themselves to do anything undercover.
“I just wanted to ask you where you’re travelling to, friend?” He asks me, a smile on his face.
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“Oh, erm, just away from Solcept for now.” I reply, before biting on my gums. Gods that sounds suspicious, I couldn’t just make up a destination, could I? Such an idiot.
The man lets out a loud laugh, “That sounds good to me! Me and my fine companions are travelling to the Stygian border. My name is Gregor. Gregor Ashfall, and this is my little wagon.”
“Hi Gregor, I’m Paige. What do you… what do you transport with your wagon?” I venture, trying to glean why he’s started talking to me.
“I transport whatever people need transporting my friend.” He says, winking at me.
“Which just so happens to be food, most’a the time, eh?” The driver pipes up, still sat up on the wagon, holding on to the reigns connected to the two horses in front of the wagon.
Gregor lets out a groan. “I’m trying to build a sense of mystery here, David!” He brings his hand down dramatically over his face. “Well, no sense for it now eh? I’ll get straight to the point, seeing as my driver here has no sense of the mysterious. As I said we are travelling away from Solcept and to the Stygian border and are looking to fill a seat, if you’re interested?”
“Oh!” I exclaim, shocked at his offer, “I mean, I don’t have anything to offer you for transport or anything.” I tell him, looking down slightly, dejected.
“Oh you don’t need to worry about that! I didn’t mean that you’d have to pay for the travel or anything like that. Honestly, I don’t mean this to be rude, but I can clearly tell you’re homeless with nowhere to go,” he says, his voice full of sympathy, and gives me an appraising look, “and if we carry people, it’s easier to cross the border. Less scrutiny on people than goods for some reason.” He finishes, looking at me expectantly.
“Well… if that truly is the case, I’d be glad to help you out while you help me.” I say, the first genuine smile in days sneaking onto my face.
As I agree, the biggest smile I’ve ever seen breaks across Gregor’s face. “Excellent! Welcome aboard!” He exclaims and grasps my hand in an exuberant handshake that almost bowls me over.
At this point the two guards come up, walking in lockstep. The one with the giant bow is wearing a green cloak — with the sleeves ripped off and hood down — over lightweight leather armour that can be seen poking out from the edges of the cloak. Her hair is red and tied in a high ponytail and still manages to reach down past her midsection.
The other guard is wearing clothes over every part of her body that it is possible to. Any armour she’s wearing is covered by a large brown cloak she’s wearing covering her arms and body completely and paired with full leg brown trousers. The only place uncovered is her face, framed by mid-length purple hair, shaved on one side, and down to her shoulder on the other.
“Get your hands off of her, before you knock her off her feet, you big oaf.” The one with the giant bow says. Gregor, looks at her chuckling, as he lets go of my hands and steps back. She turns to me and holds out her own hand, “Name’s Sara. I help guard this wagon and make sure David here looks after those horses properly. She says, as we shake hands, and she shoots a look at David, who pointedly does not respond. Before I know it the other guard has gently pushed Sara out of the way to introduce herself. “Hi! My name’s Cora. I’m the stronger of the two guards this wagon has.” She says, enthusiastically shaking my hand and winking at Sara as she comments about being stronger.
As I look at Cora as she introduces herself, I can’t help but notice her eyes are a golden colour and almost seem to gleam. It’s difficult not to stare. “Hi guys, it’s great to meet you.” I manage to say, tearing my eyes away from Cora’s own.
“Well, now we’re finally all acquainted, why don’t we make a move, eh?” Gregor speaks up, gesturing at the wagon. He leads us to the back of the wagon, where we all climb inside.
Once I’m in the wagon, I can see one side has some cargo, strapped against the wall, and the other side has a bench bolted to the floor of the wagon. Further into the wagon, there is another seat which sits right next to a window, that presumably lets someone talk with the driver while the wagon is in motion. Gregor takes the seat at the front, and I sit next to Sara and Cora on the bench. Gregor, bangs on the front of the wagon, and shouts, “Time to go, David!” And with a cry from David, the wagon lurches forward as we set off.
