Chapter 42: Hassle (Patreon)

Author’s note: Hey guys

Really glad you share the same opinion on the different POV's, that they're like spice. When used wisely and in moderation they enrich the flavor, but if overdone they ruin the whole experience.

Anyway, here's the second half of yesterday's.

Enjoy the chapter!


Poll: Story Name - link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/103725360

Chapter 42: Hassle - link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/103989495


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Chapter 42: Hassle

"He used to what?"

"Well, yeah, before he had kids, he used to smuggle slaves across the border to Mitta, sometimes driving them all the way to Castiana. All while doing a fair business, of course."

"Tits, I wouldn't put it past the old man to trade slaves. He seems so . . . nice."

"Oh, he wasn't trading in them. It was the escaped slaves he helped. You know, get past the Arid border guards . . . in his wagon."

"With his sigils? Damn, he's got some balls."

Elias smirked and nodded. "Now you know where he gets the galls to ride through Esulmor. Though, I wonder where he picked up the gal."

"Her? I rather wonder how he met his wife. Maybe she was one of the slaves; wouldn't that be something? Him smuggling her in his wagon just for the two of them to . . . wait. We've searched that wagon a hundred times. There's no place for him to hide any slave. Are the Arid's border guards blind? Are we?"

"Don't get your tits in a twist, Brynn. He quit a long time ago. That's not the wagon. He sold it - at least, that's what he told m-me . . . WHAT?"

"Nothing, just wondering how you know so much about him? And why the fuck is this the first time I'm hearing all this? Were you one of those slaves too?"

"You know my folks." 

"They could have taken you in. Or . . . or be slaves themselves."

"What about my grandparents, then?"

"I don't know," Brynn said with a shrug. "You tell me."

Elias couldn't help but silently curse at his own stupidity. How could he forget? Once Brynn got curious about something, she didn't rest until she knew all the ins and outs - or found something else to keep her mind busy. Unfortunately, unable to come up with anything to weasel out of answering, he heaved a sigh, knowing all too well that he was digging his own grave. "I kind of . . . dated his daughter for quite a while."

The Guardswoman’s wide eyes told him everything, the laid-back day was all but gone. And the gal sitting next to the old Scoresby was to blame.

"Heads up, Brynn!" Elias barked, all grumpy, as the wagon neared the gate, snapping his colleague out of her shock. In a practiced manner, she straightened and crossed her spear with his. "We're so-soooo not done yet. STOP!"

"Whoa," the old man on the wagon commanded the scalehoofs, pulling lightly on the reins, making the animals stop just shy of their spears. "Good day to you, Sergeant Hakhe. Corporal Velorgan."

Sighing, Elias nodded. "And to you, Mr. Scoresby."

Unnecessary pleasantries, perhaps, but if one wanted to do their job well, they couldn't act like some thug. Those were the words of their captain, and he couldn't agree more. They were Castiana City Guards, something to be proud of - or at least it used to be. And the old man respected that.

"Bit late today, aren't you?"

"You know how things go from time to time."

"Tell me about it. This day started out so great, but then it went down the shitter."

"Oh, did something happen in the city, boy?"

"I wish. Then it wouldn't be my concern," Elias said with a frown, sighing after taking a look at the half-Terr'den gal. "What are you up to, old man? Back to your old job?"

[Merchant: 78 sigils]

No change there, of course. Not only was it impossible to change your array before forming the second one, but it would also be incredibly dumb to take one like a Smuggler, for example. You might as well shout out what you are or what you were - like the gal sitting next to the old man.

[Slave: 97 sigils]

"Damn, full array," Brynn leaned in to whisper, as taken aback as Elias was. And no wonder. When he remembered all he had to do to get his 132 sigils as a Guardsman, he shuddered at the thought of what the young gal had to go through. She didn't seem much older than Brynn, who had trained with him daily practically since she turned sixteen and just last week had gloated about getting the 112th sigil on her arrays, yet the gal was practically only two sigils away from forming her second array.

"Of course not. I'm too old for that, boy," Scoresby laughed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "This is, Korra Grey. I met her, believe it or not, in Esulmor and merely gave her a ride."

"H-hello . . . " stammered out the half-Terr'den, obviously nervous as fuck. Elias would dare to say that she was even afraid of them. 

'What a hassle,' he thought to himself, sighed, and put on a smile. "Hello, ma'am, I am Sergeant Elias Hakhe. I assure you, you have nothing to fear."

The gal flinched, bared her fangs a little in a failed attempt to smile back, nodded but remained wary, her eyes darting between him, Brynn, the wall, the gate and the city beyond it. Of course, his eyes traveled places as well. Though he tried his best to keep the eye check of her strictly professional.

'Antlers, large ears, body covered with feathers and fur? A lot of skin, though. Definitely a half-Terr. But not the kind I saw in the city before. Well, whatever.'

"As I said, ma'am, you have nothing to fear. However, I must ask you to climb down. You too, Mr. Scoresby."

"I know, boy. You have your orders. Well, do your job," said the old man, gesturing to the wagon. "But go easy on the girl. She’s had it rough."

'Who the fuck do you take me for, old man,' Elias cursed silently and motioned for his fellow gate guard to check the wagon. 

Of course, Brynn being Brynn, instead of doing her fucking job, took a few steps towards the old man and, unable to remain silent any longer, asked: "Did you really find her in Esulmor? Like on the edge of the forest, or . . . ? Did you perhaps smuggle her out of some slave trading ring?"

Startled a bit, the old man raised his eyebrows, looking to Elias for answers. Unfortunately, all he could give him was an apologetic shrug. This was on him, no doubt. If only he had kept his mouth shut . . . he could have saved himself so much hassle.

"Well, Corporal Velorgan, I don't intend to speak for Korra, but as far as I'm concerned, I met her in the ruins of Esulmor Edge. No slave ring operating there, or at least I haven't noticed."

"Is that correct, ma'am? The Esulmor part?" Elias asked as he watched the gal climb down from the wagon seat, only to trip and fall off the steps. Reflexes kicked in, and even though he knew he would be too late, he moved to catch her, almost stumbling himself.

"Traiana's tits!" he gasped as the feathers on her body spread into two wings, and she barely stopped herself from falling flat on her face.

'Definitely, not a half-Terr I ever saw,' Elias thought to himself, astounded and already picturing all the paperwork.

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Author’s note: By the way, tomorrow I'd like to get to the end of the whole story title escapade in some way, so expect...I don't know yet, maybe another poll, maybe an announcement of my final decision, maybe something in between.

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