Butcher of Gadobhra Chapter 254 (Patreon)

Sonya Thornfist, battle-druid of the Emerald Reavers guild, looked around the table, judging whether her peers had a consensus. "I seek your opinions as council members of our guild on our next course of action."

No one was paying attention, and Sonya vowed never again to hold a 'working lunch' at the local tavern. Most of the guild just wanted not to have to pay for the food. Four people were still looking at the menu and figuring out which of the four items to order. Dirk and Brad were discussing the local beer; Sally was hitting on the barbarian in the corner, which was more interested in his sandwich than in whatever sordid thing Sally was trying to whisper in his ear.

"Don't you people care about what dungeons we should raid and train for?"

Dirk went to get another round of beer, and Brad, aka Sturmhand Ironbreaker, looked around the table and then winked at Sonya. "You haven't figured out yet that we just wanted to spend the guild's gold on food and beer?" As she started to stutter in anger, he held up a hand. "It's all good, Sonya. The guys aren't worried about where we raid. They trust you. You like to run around to gather information and rumors, so they made you guild leader. Pick the toughest dungeon, set the time, and we'll move to that city and raid until we conquer it and everyone gets the loot they want."

"But what about today?

Dirk handed her a glass of wine and pushed the cheese platter towards her. "Today, you should eat, drink, and spend the guilds gold. Tonight you can research the forums and find us a spot to start grinding with openings for dungeons. Then tell us where to go. Trust me; it's easier to send an email than to get everyone's attention in the game. Tell us when to meet at a teleporter or stage line, and we'll show up."

Disappointed but able to read the room, Sonya enjoyed the afternoon and then got to work. The next day the entire guild received her message telling them to show up at the teleporter next to the mage guild, ready to head to a dungeon after a short walk. All 27 members showed up. The guild would pay their teleport fees if they went today, but after that, they were on their own. Fees were usually pretty steep, and no one liked wasting their own gold when they could ride free.

"Greetings, travelers. How can this humble servant assist you in your travels? I'm afraid that our teleporter here in Glousterberg is quite small. I can send you on your way in groups of ten, one group every ten minutes. We need the time for other cities to generously send us the mana. I am travel-mage Lars Frostfollower, at your service." The mage bowed low and sent a message to assemble the apprentices. The less mana he had to buy elsewhere, the better.

Sonya bowed and smiled at him. "Thank you, sir. We are headed to the city of Gadobhra. From what I was told, the nearest teleporter is in Rowan Keep." The mage's smile slipped for just a second. "I believe you are correct, my dear. Let me go and check on the coordinates. We don't want to make a mistake and send you to the Ruined Isles or someplace else horrid."

Dirk and Stan were both curious and started asking questions. "Where are we headed to? What's there?"

Sonya showed them her notes. "There was some post about this place. It got a lot of press initially, but I can't find most of the old posts; it's like they all got deleted. But the ones I found said there were several dungeons in the area. They range from Tier 1 up to at least Tier 4 or higher. We can go there and work our way through them all. The only other place I found that didn't have a long wait for a dungeon was in Sternhollow. It's two days by stage from here. The dungeon isn't popular because it's filled with acidic slimes. You have to do a bunch of small quests for the forest folk first. It was gathering roots, killing muskrats, and learning to make birch beer. Then they give you access to an old sage that will teach the Lesser Acid Resistance skill. Without it, the slime dungeon is horribly dangerous, and you lose a lot of gear."

"Yeah, skip that shit." Dirk was tired of quests and killing trash mobs. "What's in the other place? What can we kill?"

Sonya looked at her notes. "A bunch of stuff, I think Ratkin, lesser undead, mutant animals, giant hogs, ghouls, and daemons. Oh, and they also brew beer in the little village and have a kobold grillmaster serving some good food."

"Nice work. Sounds like our kind of place." The guild crowded around the teleporter. Dungeons, beer, and food had their attention.

The travel mage came back with a sad expression on his face. "I'm terribly sorry, but your location seems to have problems. It's not recommended for travelers, and the local Legion outpost is dealing with an outbreak of wyverns, bandits, and refugee farmers."

The players talked things over. Sonya approached the mage. "We'll still go. With that much going on, it's sure to be fun." She handed over a bag of gold. "I have our fee, 135 gold for 27 human-sized travelers, plus the 20% fee for teleporting from a small town and the 10% tax for teleporting to a Legion outpost. One hundred and seventy-nine gold plus a small tip." The tip was in silver and copper. The guild had barely had enough for the teleport fees, even after Sonya sold off some of the gems they were saving.

The mage looked disappointed for some reason. "I commend you on your mathematical and research skills, young lady. You should look into taking courses at one of the Arcane Universities. A sharp mind is wasted elsewhere. But, I must sadly inform you that teleporting to such a far-off and dangerous location has additional costs. It's all beyond me; something to do with the cost of mana in that primitive area? But I will need an additional 100 gold per person to cover expenses, according to the senior mage I just talked to about the situation." He bowed twice, trying to look apologetic.

"2700 more gold?"

The mage bowed again. "Yes, plus the 20% and 10% taxes. 3,564 gold plus a standard tip."

Two days later, Sonya and her guild arrived by stage in Sternhollow and split up to begin gathering roots and killing muskrats.

The Red Banner didn't stop at Northguard but continued past. None of the mercenaries minded. They had heard the beer was bad and overpriced. The castle looked like a dump, and the Legionnaires on duty wore stained and patched uniforms. They continued onward but halted five miles past the small city. The road was considerably worse. Paving stones were mostly missing, and large sinkholes were common. Bernice started to ride next to the road but stopped the company. "There are stones in the tall grass; get off and lead your horses. They can use a rest.

The stones were from the road. Someone or something had scattered them around the landscape. After walking for a quarter mile, they moved further from the road and mounted up before traveling further. After two more miles, they came upon a road crew. The road north looked significantly better than the part they had just followed. She took out a spyglass and observed the people working on the road. After one look, she told the company to halt and take lunch. She observed for a few minutes before riding the mile to the road with two guards.

The foreman came to greet her. Besides him, there were four large men with picks and shovels and a mage who seemed completely out of place.
Captain Bernice called out to them. "Greetings; I see you're all hard at work. Our company just came from up from the south. Doing some work for the Baron and the Alchemarx people."

The foreman relaxed and motioned to his people to get back to work. "Glad to have you around. We've had trouble with some of the farmers giving us some hassles. They don't like the repairs we do on the road, but I'm sure you know how that is. Think you can make sure the area is clear of them."

Bernice observed the men breaking apart the road and scattering the stones. It was what she had watched from a distance and now confirmed up close. The mage stirred himself to conjure Acid Rain and move the cloud back and forth. The acid would increase the size of the potholes where it pooled in low spots. "Glad to. Part of our job, after all. But remember, call them bandits. Sounds better. We'll do a full sweep around the area to ensure you don't have any trouble. I'll let you return to work and tell the boss you were working hard on the job."

The foreman nodded and shook her hand. "Appreciate it."

Riding back to her company, she was thoughtful. "I think we'll keep moving north. There are places I need to see for myself. We'll do a full sweep of the area, camp for the night, and head out to Rowan tomorrow morning.

Cleavus Vodspaller had avoided stopping in Northguard. The last time he'd traveled this road, he had entered the city to take a room for the night. He'd also been charged a tax on his goods when entering and when leaving. The inn had been cold, the food greasy, and the less said about the beer, the better. Today he kept the mules going on past and only stopped to talk to the two Legion soldiers on duty where the road turned off to the Legion Outpost. He shook hands, handing each a silver piece. "How's the road north? Any monster problems?"

The two guards looked around, and one spoke quietly. "Nothing to worry about as far as monsters or beasts; things have been pretty calm lately. You'll have some bandit trouble. There are lots of starving farmers, but I must warn you that the road is bad. You can't get there from here if you're going to Rowan Keep. Best to turn around."

Cleavus laughed. "Not to worry, no bandit wants to steal snails. They are too heavy to pack around, and they don't have the refined tastes to enjoy them. I'll take my chances."

The guard stepped closer. "Trust me. You don't want to. The road gets bad, and you'll have to go cross country. Plus, the two bridges are gone. Swept away in the bad rains we had lately."

Cleavus hadn't heard of any weather like that. Summer had been dry, and so had the fall. Then he noticed the emphasis on one word. "Ah, a Bad Reign, you say?"

The guard nodded. "A very BAD Reign. Bad enough that merchants that have tried the roads go missing. My wife is bog raised, and we enjoy a well-roasted snail every Saint Thilbert's day. I have for years and almost always bought from your uncle. It would be a shame to have your family lose a whole wagon. If you know what I mean."

Cleavus smiled. "I do indeed. Guess I'll turn back then. But St. Thilbert's day is in a couple of months. How about I gift you and your lovely wife a half-dozen of my uncle's best crawlers? It would lighten my load some. I may take some roads less traveled going home."

The guard tipped his helmet. "Glad to, Merchand Vodspaller." Cleavus got into the back of his wagon and selected a fine assortment of his goods, and put them into a box for the helpful guard to take home. The guard was also helpful enough to draw a map on the wagon's floorboards that detailed some side roads and two fords that his lightened wagon could use. By evening, he had turned back and began circling wide around Northguard. It would cost him two days of travel time, but that was much better than not arriving at all.