[center][sub]Collab between me and [@Terminal][/sub][/center]
[center][b][u]The Imperial-Electorate Border of the Vlaanburg Mountain Range[/u][/b][/center]
Mountains, as far as the eye could see. Jagged edges of the earth itself, with valleys so deep, Lee couldn’t quite believe it. Where he was born, the highest place were the western cliffs. But they paled in comparison with this. “Okay, lets keep going.” He told himself more than the others. Old man Ittain, mumbling and fumbling around walked with him. The old man had always unnerved the young Truth-Seeker. It was like he saw less of the world and more of another. Never the less, to have him with them would be invaluable.
 
“We’re reaching the outpost.” Said one of the mercenaries. They hired five, one for each Truth-Seeker in the expedition. Lee, under the guise of Mr. Rossiere, still did not trust them. Not for being mercenaries, but for being Serenists. But for now he knew he needed them. Finally they came around the mountain, with the outpost in sight.

It was rather underwhelming, having journied so far and having heard such ominous tellings of what awaited them in the ill-reputed Empire. A mere watchtower, not even walled, wth several tents pitched around it and a small stable at its base. The curious barbed and three-pronged emblem of Imperial Matathran flew high atop the structure - though as soon as the seekers lay eye upon it, the billowing fabric was obscured by a cloud of thick, brown and earthen dust that hung and flew through the air like a dirty raincloud - dominating their view of the distant horizon were several massive clouds of dust, kicked up by unseen but faintly heard armies on the move, their marching a constant rumble in the air.

As expected, the border itself was clear of any kind of barriers or patrols, as far as the seekers could see - the watchtower and its meager garrison of soldiers was, for all intents and purposes, all that stood between them and Matathran. The temptation to simply stray off the road and bypass the small checkpoint itself was considerable...

But ultimately not worth the risk. At least here at the sea of slate, even given the uneven and rough terrain, the Empire had little need of walls or ever-vigilant squads, when they had entire armies out on patrol. That, and the consequences of being caught within the borders without having first visited the checkpoint did not bear mentioning.

Lee took a deep breath. Getting into the Vlaanburg Electorates was demanding enough. The rumors around had reached the good ‘Independent Traders’ about their vampiric overlords. Even now Lee expected one to descend upon them to suck out their blood. Matathran was a whole different kind of beast though. The hate of the Primordials hanging in the air, he swore he could feel it. The billowing dust, blown up by entire armies marching, did little to put him at ease. “Ah…yes.” Muttered Lord Ittain next to him. “Do you feel it, young Truth-Seeker?” the soft voiced elder asked.
 
“I feel fear.” He admitted. “Are you sure you want to come with us, Lord? The road will be no less perilous. And Matathran is a bad place for you to be.” Lee had grown somewhat attached to the old during their travels. Besides, he was one of the greatest of House Ulstur. Lee knew his own death, while significant, would not impact Vallenguin as much as the death of Ittain. It was the first time, death seemed very real and uncomfortably close. If their covered dropped, they were dead. Or worse, they would become traitors of vallenguin. He shook his head, it wouldn’t serve him well to ponder on such things, not so close to their goal now.
 
Lord Ittain had watched him for a moment and then grinned .”Oh but my foolish youngling. I should be here. I should, I should. Don’t you hear it, Lee? Don’t you hear the voices? The Primordials are calling, yes. They are calling.” Without any delay, the old man began to walk up to one of the soldiers guarding the outpost. “Hello there! Yes, yes, hello!”
 
The old man had moved before Lee could realize it, already engaging the strange and foreign warriors of the north. With his common eccentric greetings, waving his arm around. Lee dashed next to the man, hoping his behavior wouldn’t be frowned upon. “Greetings, we’re simple pilgrims, asking to enter Matathran, good sirs.” Lee did his best to sound as polite as possible. Even though he disliked the groveling intensely.

"First prospective entrants today." The soldier in question sat just outside the watchtower's stable. The man was clearly of lesser breeding, having a sickly palor and with hints of a distended gut beneath his chainplate hauberk and leather cuirass - but he was otherwise more altogether and seemly than some of the pikemen the seekers had seen in the electorates, where each man was expected to buy their own equipment. From their preliminary investigations into Matathran, the seekers knew that every footman was outright [i]given[/i] their arms and equipment, and as indicated by the distant swirling clouds of dust, nearly all of them had a fair amount of training. Meaning even this bedraggled man before them, who would not be worthy of even the lowest of untouchable castes in the Heavenly Sphere, might have posed a significant threat to the seekers on his own - and he was the least of the soldiery they could expect to find in the Empire. He gestured errantly with a free hand while masking a yawn with the other, giving the seekers and their bodyguards a brief, sweeping examination. "I must say, you seem awfully well arranged for pilgrims...and rather well protected."  As he spoke, several other soldiers approached from the nearby tents, approaching each member of the assembled party in turn, pointing and muttering instructions as they went so they coudl examine the group's belongings.

Ittain, first looked rather admirably at the foreigner, suddenly turned around and wandered a few steps away. As if something else caught his blind interest. Lee on the other hand tried to laugh off the comment: “Oh… well we prefer to be well protected everywhere we go.” He tried to shrug off. “Just a safety measure I suppose.” Lee was clearly nervous, even though he had his mercenaries in tow. His eyes followed the other guards, carrying out the examinations. They didn’t carry anything of illegal nature. Well, unless the guards found the strange glyphic drawings of Lord Ittain’s book, who freely handed it over while watching a butterfly, were offensive. “I hope our goods are all in order.” Lee said, before he heard the old man yelling.
 
“No! Don’t you dare deface that! No! No!” the man kept yelling as the examination guard was about to pour hot wax for a stamp on the book. “It’s very essence is invaluable! Worth a thousand times a thousand peasants wages! You’ll ruin it! Ruin it.” The frail old man tried to get a grip on the book, trying to pull it back. But the guard was obviously stronger than a frail, grey old man. 

"Compose yourself, foreigner." The offending guard said ruefully. "The stamp is temporary, and you will thank us for it - without it or a receipt, you might receive a citation for any tomes in your possession. If you cannot abide it being stamped, you had best either discard it or else turn back."

“A thousand times a thousand wages, I tell you!” Ittain kept screaming, as if he didn’t even hear the guard. Eventually Lee, helped by a mercenary close enough, dragged Ittain off the book. Still, the old man kept kicking and screaming. Another mercenary took over from Lee. Both were required to keep the old man away and down. “Apologies for my grandfather. He is… disturbed sometimes. Please, stamp the book.” From the distance Ittain finally settled down. But more in defeat than calm as the stamp was put down on the book. Meekly he returned, taking the book from Lee who handed it back. He then turned back to the first guard. “I’ll assume everything is in order and we can continue on?”

The soldier stared past Ittain for a long while in contemplation, seeming to mull the idea over as the remaining guards withdrew. Out from the stable came two ill-kempt but finely dressed scribes wearing dyed robes, both carrying thin stacks of pocket-sized parchment pages.

"You are the first prospective visitors today. The Invigilator has not even risen from his bedrest yet. Now, if he were presiding over this process, he would insist on a discretionary citation for all of you just to make sure you keep your noses clean, what with all this ruckus you have caused and with the number of armed men you have with you. But it would be a shame to have to wake him. If you like, there is a convenience fee you could pay to..." He paused and turned briefly to one of the scribes, gesturing faintly in prompt.

"Expedite." The scribe provided helpfully.

"That. A modest fee to expedite your processing, if you will." The soldier gave Lee an unpleasant smile filled with browned teeth.

Lee knew this would happen, sooner or later. He just wished it would’ve happened later. Lee hadn’t hired the veteran Vlaanburgers just for showmanship. A discretionary citation would make their expedition ever so harder. Throwing Ittain, who was now feverishly reading his book somewhere on a rock, an evil eye, Lee conjured up his coin sack. “I suppose expediting the process would work in our favor. Two silvers, to be put to good use.” He held up the two silver coins with a neutral face. Hoping it would be enough to just get cleared and move on.

"Your generosity is noted." The soldier remarked jovially as he tucked the proferred coins away in a small purse hanging from his belt. "A few words of warning for your cooperation. First, your coin is fine here down South. The further North you go, the less it is going to do for you. Folk up North aren't as generous as I am. And of course, with the armies out on manuevers, you are probably going to be stopped a few more times on the way to Cruoix, or wherever it is you are headed. If you want to avoid having to...expedite more inspections, you might want to head Northwest, around the mountains, rather than heading directly for Cruoix. The route will be harder on your feet, but lighter on your purse."

“We thank you for your…generosity and your advice.” Lee made a small bow, a habit from back in Vallenguin. He took the papers he required and went on his way. Contemplating their root. He knew his purse was heavier than most pilgrims’. But at the same time, every search increased them being uncovered. And Ittain himself would become a problem as he was far too unpredictable. But on the other side, they needed more up to date maps and as the North was apparently not so keen on foreigners, he believed it to be best to go for Cruoix. Besides, they were honorable pilgrims. Not there to cause much trouble. Maybe they wouldn’t be stopped as often? And so, the group of Truth-Seekers marched for Cruoix.

Much to Lee's dismay, they were stopped twice on their journey - and both times, rather than having the fortune of dealing with a mere footman, Lee found himself bowing before stern officers with helms adorned with brass engravings and filigree, signifying their rank as Invigilators. They were much more brusque than the soldier at the watchtower had been, and while they did not ask many questions, they few they did had been forboding. At first, the seekers were relieved when the first patrol they ran across let them be without any trouble...

But when the second patrol stopped them, one of the soldiers took a keen interest in the silver seashell necklace that Lee wore. He had kept it tucked beneath the folds of his robe to prevent it from being spotted, but during the inspection the soldier had evidently spotted its chain.

"This curio is being requisitioned." The soldier declared, twisting the chain around Lee's neck so as to undo the clasp. The Invigilator frowned, but made no effort to stop the man.

“No wait!” Lee yelled as his necklace was taken. The silver seashell was important. It allowed him to detect the faintest amount of magic in his surroundings. Invaluable on an expedition like these. He almost tried to grab it back, but then realized that it would endanger the expedition. “What kind of backward place is this?” he muttered half-defeated to himself. Back at Vallenguin, not even a Decksnake bastard would have the guts to take something from a Truth-Seeker. The punishment for that was death. Slaves tried it, thinking valuables could buy their freedom. On them that very rule was enforced. But here, in Matathran, it would look that those tasked with the protection and enforcement of the law were simple thieves themselves. He turned to the Invigilator and said: “You would just allow this!? Simple thievery?”

"You will be given a receipt for the item. You may exchange it for its fair value in marks at any Imperial Demesne." The Invigilator said simply, even as one of his men finished marking a slip of parchment. Scribbled almost incoherently upon it below infintesimal scripture were the words 'shiny ribbed necklace.'

"The nearest one is located in the city of Cruoix, you may ask any of the officers you see there for directions." He started as a drum-beat blared in the distance, and signaled his men to form up again. "I do not have time for this. Move along, foreigner."

Lee had to watch on for a moment as the soldiers moved on. It was as if stealing was made legal. He just couldn’t believe it. Looking at the receipt, he nor the Vlaanburger mercenaries could read it. “That’s going to earn you one copper keychain.” On of the mercenaries joked. But Lee wasn’t in the mood for jokes. The necklace was invaluable for the operation. While not rare  on itself, it was an artifact made in Vallenguin. The young Truth-Seeker was concerned. He would never live down the shame of being a traitor of Vallenguin.
 
“Worry not, youngling.” The old man, Ittain came standing next to him. “No mage, wizard, witch or something beyond will trace the magic back.” Surprised, Lee looked down at Ittain. Normally the man was as unfocused on the outside world as ever. But right now, his book was closed and even though he was blind, it was as if his eyes followed the men.
 
Eventually the expedition reached Cruoix. The Truth-Seekers checked in at an inn, while Lee went out on the street to look for a mapper. Inquiring with another brass-helmed Invigilator as to where he might find a map, he was answered with a contemptuous smile.

"Oh, you will find maps have their own little quarter in the market by the main gates. You will know them when you see them."

The Invigilator had spoken truthfully, and the meaning behind his levity became immediately evident. Hearing a call in the markets proclaiming maps and cartographical charts for sale, Lee ventured forth - only to find, to his horror, an entire plaza packed to the brim with map vendors, ranging from near-beggars seated on reed mats to stall-men and women to mysterious, cloaked figures in ornate carriages. Hundreds, thousands of parchments with insriptions and detailing hung from racks and were bound together in bundles, strewn across the ground or hanging from lengths of rope - each allegedly a map of Imperial Matathran, and each completely and entirely different in a dozen or more ways.

"Legendary maps! Untold and unfound secrets of ancient yore, found only here and herein mine works! A silver mark each, to service destiny is price enough..."

"Maps for the cautious wanderer, every Agate burrow and funnel-web that ever was or will be! Path your way around the Aeolian harp! Walk the unseen whisper ways of the old world...!"

"You there, foreigner! You need a map?"

That last comment was all it took. Lee found himself besieged by more than a dozen map peddlers and vendors of dubious quality, their clamoring inaudible altogether as they shoved ragged and torn pieces of parchment in his face, some of which were barely passable as the scrawlings of a child.

What was supposed to be Lee’s version of heaven, quickly became his hell. As he was almost assailed from all sides by maps and vendors, he could only see flashes. But the flashes were enough to make him shudder. “How do you mess up west and north!?” he yelled at one as the map’s compass was clearly flawed. “No thanks you. I don’t- No I don’t want to meet my destiny! No-No let me trough. Let me through. No I don’t care about your stupid harp!” he yelled, finally getting free and practically fleeing off the plaza in a side street, with his sole bodyguard soon to follow.
 
“I’ve seen skirmishes less chaotic than that.” He remarked to Lee, who had to take a moment to catch his breath. “How am I going to buy a new map in that chaos?” he asked himself. It was then that a stroke of genius hit him. Reinvigorated he went up on the plaza again. He approached one of map-vendors. He looked shabby but had a cart, so Lee assumed he was doing something right. “Hey, you there! No, No I don’t care about those mountain passage maps. Listen, I need a map of Matathran with its cities, roads, rivers and holy sites. If you can show me a vendor with the right map, you get three silver coins.”

"That knowledge is worth more than every map I have here! Ten silver!" The merchant shot back in a hush voice. "And keep it down."

Lee asked himself why a vendor would want to keep a hushed noise. But Lee lowered his voice. “I’m paying you seven, tops. Take it or leave it but I’m sure there are enough of you here that can help me out for less.” Lee wasn’t that expertise in haggling, but ten felt a little steep. How was any real pilgrim or merchant ever find his way around Matathran!?

"You're not the first foreigner with half a brain, ten silver is already half as much as anybody else will ask. But silver in my pocket is better than theirs - make it eight silver." 

“Fine, eight. Now go find me that map.” Lee was becoming rather impatient. The very place felt somehow wrong. It felt somehow dirty and shadowy. He couldn’t remember the last time buying a map felt like this. But in Cruoix, they succeeded in that.

"Absolutely none of the maps here are what you want." The vendor said without any hint of shame once he had snatched the coins from Lee's hand. "Just go to the Imperial Demesne and ask after the cartographer there, they'll get you an official map. For a price. This place out here is just for yokels, vainglorious idiots, and less intelligent foreigners." 

Lee handed him his silver. But with a fairly stunned look on his face. He turned to the mercenary. “Did… that just…” And then it dawned on him. The Invigilator. The man had sent him completely the wrong way. At that moment, Lee wanted nothing but to yell, kick and scream. These people, protectors of the people, were straight up bastards. Less than freemen! Angry he stomped off, going out to find the Imperial Demesne. Eventually he did find it. But his friendly demeanor had vanished. Instead of polite greetings and curt bows, he almost snapped off the clerk there. He paid the price for his chart, but Lee’s patience was wearing thin already.