Brewer King 32 (Patreon)

San scooped up water from the low flowing creek. Brittle ice cracked under the bronze pot and the rounded rocks of on the creaked scratched the metal. Brown tinged water flowed into the pot and San pulled it out.

He looked to the sky, the thin clouds didn’t hold anything that looked like a storm, but they still bothered him. It was odd, he thought, that the weather was so much on his mind these days. He had arrived in winter in this world over a month ago but now it was truly setting in. The creek that the tiny army had traveled along a week before had become more of an icy path than a flowing water source.

Winter was truly setting in across the world. A month before he had thought it was truly freezing in the cursed city. There had been storms, but San now knew that it had been early winter in those places. If that had been the beginning of winter, he didn’t know how the Tribals lived out there when winter really arrived.

Midwinter’s Reprieve, that was less than two weeks away, according to the math and Bostarion’s tracking of the days. All talk pointed to the fact that the weather after Midwinter would be even worst. San shivered as he set the pot of dirty water beside the fire.

“Filter,” he said, setting his hands palm upward over the pot.

He could feel the water churning beneath his hands, it twisted and spun, and after a long moment he could feel dry material upon his palm. San looked down to see bits of dirt and other material now upon his palm.

The water in the pot was clear and clean, without sediment or dirt. San set the pot on the fire. The Power Filter he had gained when he became Level 3, but he didn’t trust it to remove bacteria or viruses from the water. The last thing he wanted was a brain eating amoeba accidentally ingested.

He looked down into his palm, the detritus that he had removed from the water was dry to the touch. Power was an interesting thing, the magic that he had gained did some remarkable things. San sorted through the dirt and on his fingertip was a small glitter of a gold flake.

A day spent testing the Filter Power had gained him some insight into what it could do. He had a friend once who sought to strike it rich panning for gold in the deserts of Arizona. He had leased out land to dig through old arroyos and ditches, claiming that he would recoup his expenditures and come back wealthy.

He didn’t, of course. He had lost twenty pounds and nearly died of sunstroke. But the friend still considered it the best vacation he had in years.

San flicked the tiny fleck of gold away. It wasn’t a keeper, but it could possibly mean that there was gold somewhere in the hills and valleys around the batto caves. He had absolutely zero idea or knowledge about gold mining or gold panning and didn’t think he would ever gain it. There were easier ways of making gold than risking one’s life in monster infested lands and hard labor.

“I would have taken that,” Elgava rasped.

San looked up to see the woman’s eyes open. She was thin, pale, and gaunt, but her eyes were clear. She let out a ragged cough.

“You throw away wealth, then the gods will never give you wealth,” she said.

San smiled at her. “How are you?”

“I feel…” Elgava coughed again. “I feel like shit. What happened. I can’t.. I can’t remember much after the fortress.”

“You all became sick,” San said. “I did what I could.”

“What was that?”

“I burned you.”

“I had a dream I was on fire. It was like sunlight burning through my eyes. I was screaming, but there was something else screaming with me. A shape… a voice?” Elgava shook her head and closed her eyes. “I just remember the nightmares. Me dying. You dying. Everyone dying. A world drenched in blood and the horizon on fire. With great horrible monsters walking across the land. Horrors that would make those white things we fought look like children’s toys.”

San sat in silence as she spoke. He had thought long on the words that they had spoken when they were sick. He wasn’t foolish enough to assume they were just the ramblings of feverish people. They were words that were being spoken through them, they were a warning, or perhaps a promise?

This was a world of magic and Power. There were creatures with magical abilities, ghosts, and beings with great power. Who was so say that there also weren’t gods and devils? Was something seeking to bring death and destruction to this world?

The thought was almost too big for San’s mind. He hadn’t even traveled to the nearest city since he had arrived and now there might be a possible world ending event?

“You are fine now,” San said. “I think you are fine now.”

“I feel like shit,” Elgava said, sighing. “But it’s better than how I felt before.” She coughed again and closed her eyes.

San stirred some tea leaves into the pot and watched as it boiled. The three continued sleeping and San looked up at the sky once more. There appeared some blue among the clouds.

***

“Looks like everyone left,” Elgava said as they exited the forest and finally entered the Exonaris Komai. San looked across the cleared land and spotted the farmhouse and barn. The barn doors were opened and he noted some damage to the walls.

San frowned as he took in the sight. He could see old blood on the ground and white fur clinging to posts and brush. It wasn’t the white fire of the creatures, instead it was the white fur of the grazers.

“They killed the grazers?” San asked as they neared. He could see the skull of one of the ant eater faced creatures. It lay picked clean on the ground. He noted the frozen boot marks of men. “Why would Endaha choose to slaughter them?”

“Doesn’t look like they had much choice in the matter,” Bostarion said. “I can tell a scuffle when I see one.” The ranger squatted and peered at the tracks that led back to the barn. “These aren’t that old, about four days back.” The ranger peered at the old camp of the soldiers. “Aye. Looks like the injured and the healer stayed her until four days ago. That’s about the time Ilagio would have returned, maybe sooner.”

“That fucker. If I see him, I’ll gut him.”

“He will face the Baron’s justice,” the Mage said.

“After I gut him.”

“They killed the grazers, packed up everything they could and then left.” The ranger walked and the others followed as they made they way to the barn. The well built structure was ajar and the smell of dead animals filled the air. “Well, they just seemed to have killed those they couldn’t eat.”

San looked at the gnawed upon bodies that littered the barn. He felt a bit of sadness at the sight. The grazers were like sheep from his world. They were fairly docile and even the noises they made was something he had come to enjoy.

“This was unnecessary,” San said.

“Aye,” the ranger remarked.

“That much wealth wasted,” Elgava added. “Havatair wouldn’t have approved of this. His family is common and they’re herders. He knows the value of grazers.”

“Ilagio? Or the healer?” San asked.

“If it is either, then their judgement is final,” the Mage said. “We were not here when this occurred and we do not know what transpired.”

“That fucker left us to die in that batto cave,” Elgava said. “You don’t need to stick up for him because he’s Landed.”

“It is not because he is Landed,” the Mage said. “It is because this is a decision that will fall upon the Baron to decide what to do.”

“Could’ve been bandits,” Bostarion said.

San looked into the barn. He didn’t see any signs of habitation. The farmhouse had a big hole in its side and the upstairs windows had been destroyed, therefore it wasn’t the best place to set up camp.

“Looks like no one’s been here in a while,” San said.

Elgava let out a long sigh. “Let’s see if they’ve left any food. I haven’t eaten in days and those rotting grazers are looking mighty tasty.”

The others agreed and headed toward the farmhouse. Perhaps Endaha had left some food behind.

San took the time to close the doors and bar them shut. He looked at the damage to the barn and noted that it looked like bulletholes and crossbow bolt strikes. He ran his hands along it and pried loose a deformed lead ball.

“What happened?” he wondered. He turned to follow the others who had reached the farmhouse and hear shouting and yelling.

Elgava and the Mage rushed back out of the farmhouse, while Bostarion was trying to load a crossbow.

“Horned wolf!” Elgava cried, nearly tripping on her sword.

“Wolfram,” San said and rushed forward. “Stop! Hold on!”

The Mage was shakily holding his pistol while Elgava had her sword out. Bostarion loaded the crossbow and aimed it into the entrance of the farmhouse. San got there in time to prevent them from shooting.

“Get out of the way, idiot!” Bostarion shouted.

“Hold on!” San snapped. He blocked the door and slowly turned his back on them. San walked to the farmhouse door and stood there for a moment. It smelled of woodsmoke and old battos. The somewhat rotting meat stench, but also something else. A thicker, muskier smell.

There was a low growl and a figure padded down from the upper stairs. The eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the farmhouse. San immediately recognized the wolf ram before him

“You’re alive,” he said. A weight he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying seemed to melt off of him. He stared at the dark furred creature that sat on its haunches like a dog, her head tilted and mouth slightly opened.

San stepped into the farmhouse, those outside cursing and shouting for him to get out of there. He crossed the distance between the stairs and the door and stood before Wolfram. The horned wolf sniffed him and looked at ease.

“How do, Wolfram?” San smiled down at her and gently patted her head. She didn’t bite his arm off and instead continued looking at him. “Where have you been? I though you finally left.” He crouched down before her, tousling the fur on her face. She didn’t move or growl, but continued staring at him.

His vision adjusted to the dim light and he saw something. Her stomach was loose and he could see the mottled flesh of teats exposed. He frowned and looked up toward the floor above him. He could hear the soft whimpering of small animals.

“You had pups?” San asked.

She turned and clamored back up the stairs, leaving him. He wanted to follow, but those were her pups. He knew what could happen if someone got between a mother and her pups.

“Guess we’ll be staying in the barn,” San told the others when he exited.

“Rather dead grazers than a dead me,” Elgava muttered heading back toward the barn.

“Horned wolves don’t come this far south,” Bostarion muttered. He glared at San as if he were the reason she was here and the reason she had pups. “Now they’ll never leave.”

***

“Stay safe, girl,” San said as he crouched before the hole into the farmhouse. The ragged hole the big batto had made was easily accessible by Wolfram, therefore San had closed and locked the main door. The stout wooden door would keep much of the farmhouse from falling into complete disrepair during the winter months.

San set down a stack of still warm roti bread he had made that morning. Elgava and Bostarion had found a clay pot of grains and another of wine hidden among the imbar that had been left behind. Bostarion claimed it was Pavano’s doing and San was thankful for the man.

There had been enough flour and wine to sate all of their hunger and that had led to the first good night of sleep since they had left the komai. San had cooked up the rest of the bread and it looked to be enough to see them to White Tower.

Wolfram sniffed the bread and took one into her mouth. She choked it down and greedily took the rest.

“We’ll be back in the spring,” San said. He touched her head and scratched it. “See you then.”

San got up and headed toward the others who were waiting for him. The early morning light was still dim, but it was enough to travel by. Everyone wanted to get a start on the journey to White Tower. The last few days of hard trekking and little food had left them all battered and exhausted. A warm fire, a hot meal, and a bath would make a world of difference.

A howl followed them as they left the komai.

Even in their battered and foot weary state, they made it to the Trade Road in record time. By mid morning they were starting down the road to White Tower. By evening they had made a fair bit of progress as the weather was holding and the skies were clear and bright. They settled down in a campsite that seemed to be one that was used often by travelers.

San sat first watch, sitting with his back against a tree and peering into the night. He watched as the stars shone brightly above him and he sketched out various constellations from the patterns. The Frowny Face, the Beer Pint, and the Keg were his favorites.

“I find travellers by the road,” a familiar voice said.

San looked to see a figure walking along the Trade Road. She was still a fair distance away from him, walking slowly and leisurely. Yet her voice had sounded as if she were right by him. San sat up straighter and watched as the Winter’s Lament approached him.

“Can a traveler share your fire,” she asked.

“If you come in peace, then you’ll find it here,” San responded.

The woman smiled, her sharp teeth flashing. “You are learning, Sanjay.” She leaned close to him. “Words have power, love. Deals made have power. Promises given have power. Do not make them so casually, love. You may regret them one day.”

“Then I’m glad it’s night,” San said.

The pale woman smiled again and gracefully sat down by him. “You lived,” she said. “You’ve been using your Power.” She wrapped her arms around his chest, pushing her body against his. Even with his armor on he could almost feel the coldness of her skin.

“I have,” San said. “That thing-“

“No,” the pale woman said. “Do not ask about that thing you saw. Do not dwell upon it. It is a horror that you will not be able to shake twice, love.” She tapped her long nails, almost talons, upon his cuirass. “It is done and it is gone. Be glad for that. Your friends have survived and that is what you wanted, yes?”

“Yeah,” San said.

“Then rejoice. You live. They live.”

“Who is the ‘she’ they were talking about?” San asked. “She knew my name.”

“Your soul screams out your name across the aether, Sanjay,” she said. “It is not hard to see it and its bright flame brings all those that only know darkness to its light. She, is one of those creatures. She is trapped though and shall never walk this world.”

“But who is she?”

“You need not know, Sanjay. Like the thing, if you dwell upon it too much, it will seek you out.”

“Why do you come around?” San asked.

“To feel your warmth, love,” the woman whispered. Sher voice was ice upon his skin. San shivered. “Your soul is so bright, it burns me and beckons me.” San felt a shudder and a single icy tear plinked off his cuirass. It felt heavy and it felt solid. San automatically caught it in his gloved hand.

He stared down at it, it wasn’t a piece of ice. Instead it was a crystal or maybe a gem. It gleamed in the night, seemingly giving off its own glow.

“What-“

“San?”

San blinked and looked up to see Elgava standing over him. She frowned down at him.

“You sleeping on watch?” she demanded.

“No… I …” San looked around and saw that he was alone. His eyes felt gritty and exhaustion pulled at him. “I’m sorry,” he said. Had he been sleeping? Was it a dream? Confusion clouded his head.

Elgava sighed. “We’re all slacking,” she said. “This close to White Tower and we’re all letting things slide. Get your ass to sleep, San. You earned it.”

San rose to his feet and felt something in his hands. He looked down at it and saw a gem in the middle of it.

***

The Trade Road winded through the forests, although as San and the others walked through it, these woods felt different than the ones he knew from his own world or even the Northern Woods they had been lost in for a while. The woods and trails Mary and he had walked through always seemed, tamed. It wasn’t that there weren’t any wild animals or dangers within it, but such encounters were rare. In all the years Mary and he had hiked across multiple forests and trails, they had never encountered any animals.

The feeling was the same as they walked along the wide Trade Road. Perhaps there was just too many people walking through the area, there was plenty of trash and detritus that littered the area, along with many winding roads that lead off into the woods. Bostarion stated there were farms and other places to the south nearer the Red River.

They came across their first travelers, a wagon carrying cargo that was pulled by four skinny woollys. A big man sat on the wagon along with three kids that weren’t anywhere near their teenage years. The big man eyed their ragged group and visibly set a crossbow across his lap. The action was copied by the oldest boy.

“Friendly,” San said. He wondered how Pavano would approach this. Within five minutes San was sure he’d have been able to get them a ride and have the children and big man laughing with jokes and tales.

San looked at his exhausted group. The only extrovert was Elgava and she leaned more to complaining and cursing the ills of the world. San chuckled at the thought as they walked beside the wagon.

Tensions were eased when the Mage showed the man his Identification Seal as a Mage of the Barony. The man showed more respect and even allowed the Mage to ride upon the wagon. San and the others continued to walk, although taking up the offer to add their packs to the wagon to ease their traveling.

“It’s been rough,” the farmer said. His name was Givain Gen and he was taking his children to stay with his sister in White Tower. There were too many tales of bandits along the Red River and some major trading caravans being attacked by Nox. “At least we weren’t foolish enough to just plant imbar. I kept telling my neighbors they need to diversify their crops. We can’t always count on the Empire buying up all the imbar and shipping it South. Now we’re at war with Suvanna and they’re holding all the passes South and the imbar trade has collapsed.” The big farmer shook his head, turning to look at his son. “Nothing’s a certain thing, lad. Always plan for something going wrong.”

The boy nodded solemnly.

“There’s also tales being told of monsters coming from the North,” the man continued. “A group of men were wiped out camping on the Trade Road not two weeks back. Then the Baron sent soldiers to some komai near the mountains. Less than half returned and they were beaten all to hell.” The man shook his head again. “The world’s slipping, lads. The world’s slipping into the darkness.”

San trudged alongside the wagon and listened as the man complained and gossiped. It felt good to not have to worry so much about what was lurking in the woods around them. Although the Trade Road wasn’t a safe place, it was far better than the wilds of the Northern Woods.

The trees began to thin as they continued down the Road. Soon they were replaced with farmsteads, the fields covered in snow and houses emitting smoke in the distance. The road became better, as it was graveled and well defined. There weren’t as many wagon ruts and potholes and even the woollys picked up their pace.

Houses and farms dotted the land. As they crested a hill, San paused and looked down into the valley that spread before him.

“This is the heart of the Barony,” Bostarion said as he stood by San.

Before them for miles upon miles were farms that spread from horizon to horizon. San could see scores of irrigation canals, the bright ribbon of the Red River, and at the end of the valley, upon a cliff, rose a White Tower that looked down upon all the land.

The tower was a feat of engineering, from what San could make out. It towered perhaps a few hundred feet above a large town or city. The dimming light of the later afternoon reflected off the stone of the tower, making it shine brightly.

The city of White Tower was set below the tower itself. San could make out massive walls and the smoke rising from hundreds or thousands of hearths. He saw that the Red River snaked its way into the city, splitting it in two. Boats moved along the river, plying their trade or carrying cargo.

The roads were thick with people too, wagons of all sizes and shapes moved along the well maintained roads. Even in winter farmers were out in their fields, laying down manure or letting animals roam. More were hauling goods into the city, their wagons heavily loaded and their shouts, curses, and calls filling the air.

“Rich and fertile lands,” Bostarion continued. “But filled with Landed assholes.” The ranger spat.

San took in the sight. It was his first real look at a city in this world. Blackened Bridge was more of a fort and shanty town, the same with Midway. The woodland villages were all small and for the most part built in the same manner.

This was an actual city and he couldn’t help but feel some excitement to see what it held. He knew his excitement was probably misplaced; how many times had he heard that medieval towns were nothing but shit running down the streets and sickness? How without refrigeration and proper food storage, one would die from the food just as fast as they would catch a disease from the contaminated water.

Well, he did have Sanitize as a Power and he was a [Brewer] so at a minimum he’d have something clean to drink.

“Come on, boys!” Elgava said, grinning. “We’re nearly to White Tower. If we push it we’ll get there before they close the gates and then we can spend our ill gotten gains to get so drunk we end up in Senta’s embrace.”

“We must report to the Young Baron,” the Mage said.

“Fuck ‘im. He can wait,” Elgava said. “He’s probably not even here.”

“The Baron’s Banner flies over the walls,” the Mage replied. “He is here.”

Elgava squinted at the distant city and frowned. “Fuck.”

“Come, lass. We’ll get Ilagio strung up and dead before dawn. Wine tastes sweeter after you’ve gotten revenge,” Bostarion said.

Elgava grinned at that. “Aye. Let’s get going, boys. We got a Landed that needs dying.”

The Landed Gen looked uneasily at the group as they grabbed their packs and headed toward the city.