POOHEAD189

At The Edge of The World

I had started to eat the pulled pork I had ordered, finally filling my belly. Gods it was good. Mudcreek was a backwater nowhere but it had the picking of all the good food transported to and from the elven nations and the confederation along the coast to the south. Emmaline had ordered a plate of loaded potato skins with added pork from my recommendation. At her suggestion I almost had the food go down the wrong throat, and I felt like a boy because I felt myself flush.

"Yeah, I'd love to!" I said shamelessly, then pulled back. Could I? I did have a residence and a small business as a smith, but my clients weren't expecting me back for a long time and I didn't need to pay anything off. And truth be told, I was finally admitting I had a severe crush on this girl. I knew I would go with her just because it would eat at me if I didn't, but I also did not realize I would say it so quickly.

Truth be told, I always did want to just go. But I always felt guilty. My parents lived two weeks away from my place and loathed the idea of me risking my neck everyday. Yes, I was a grown man and lived alone, but I did feel bad about making them worry so I took up a job as a smith and just moonlighted as a river guide. It wasn't the safest side-job, but they didn't usually end up as disastrous as this one had.

"I would love to come with you," I told her more calmly. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but I did not know what else to say. "Uh... hey uh, you don't have a boyfriend do you?"

I was the smoothest fucker alive.

Ill Met in Ostland

"Who told you to buy from Grunwald and Sons?" Marius asked, stroking his fine chin.

"No vaun? De sell gahnpiwder, da?" She asked as if it were that simple. To the common man it often was, or the foreigner. She had saved Marius's life, the least he could do would be to give her some advice.

"Yes, but Grunwald has recently passed away. His sons control the business now and there are rumors that they're very cutthroat in their business. They lack the honor of their late sire and might not get the best price for you. You don't want to pay top dollar for subpar gunpowder. You would be better off with longbows and trebuchets like the frogs."

"Vrogs?" She inquired, hiccuping from drinking too much vodka too swiftly. She held it better than Marius at least. He had yet to finish his first cup and she was on her second. He drained it hurriedly before he answered, and felt like he had been shot for the trouble. Still, as the seconds passed he felt quite good.

"Brettonians." Marius explained. He poured himself the second glass and blinked, trying to regain his sensibilities. An idea suddenly popped into his head, perhaps influenced by the drink but a solid thought none the less. He did need an 'in' in the business world of Ostland. Maybe having an association with this barbarian death-maiden and speaking to an agent from Grunwald and gaining a relationship there would be fortuitous to gain. "If you would like, I could come with you and help inspect the stock."

"I can guarantee I could sort through the bullshit for you," Marius boasted, finding his tongue was getting looser by the second. "Plus a lot people here would take advantage of an attractive foreigner. You could kill someone but that won't help you get gunpowder..."

Marius hiccuped himself, patting his chest with his fist. He was quickly forgetting what he was saying, but the drink was good and the company was different so he wasn't going to complain. "You are quite good with that spear and blade and...all of it. You know I'm a duelist myself." He said, half forgetting he wasn't nearly as good as most of his peers. "My trainer was a bravo from Tilea, famous for erm... swords."

At The Edge of The World

A serpent man hacked at me to my left, but I caught it on the sturdy wood of the odari staff. I hooked the haft under and around the halberd and shoved it wide, spinning with the movement and snapping my foot out. The creature went flying onto the floor. During my spin I saw a glimpse of the last approaching conquistador. He watched me with hate filled eyes, lurking closer with his hand out and sword leveled like he was a back-alley cutthroat. I pivoted, my footwork a blur as I snapped my staff in time to meet both his sword and the scimitar of a serpent-man who had thought to get a quick kill. Spinning my staff, I shoved aside both weapons and elbowed the merc in the face, sending blood and splittle flying out as I turned my full attention on the unnatural denizen of Tzecholitchi. In three strokes I got the better of him, striking it atop its serpentine head, its yellowed eyes going blank as it fell over, dazed.

"Beren get the symbol!" I heard to my right and turned. Somehow, Emmaline was pulling herself up across the other side of the abyss as a serpent-man's body disappeared into the endless stygian gloom. My jaw dropped, having just a minute ago seeing her block a bullet to now turning the tables on an impossible situation. I had just beaten three opponents in a handful of seconds and somehow she one upped me. Who the hell was this woman!? She could...do anything!

Her cry finally registered in my mind, and my eyes flitted to the dazed mercenary who now stood precariously above the pit and still back up none the wiser! My heart leaped into my throat, and dropping my staff I made a desperate leap for the precipice of the pit as the conquistador stepped on nothing but air, his predicament finally registering in his eyes as he did so. A scream emanated from his lips, and my boots skidded across the stone floor as my hand shot out to grab the symbol in his hands, halting his descent. I weighed more than him likely, but he was armored and my momentum worked against me.

"I deserve all the gold! All the glory!" He cried, an insane laughing bubbling up from deep inside as he clung to the symbol desperately. Half crazed from delirium or maybe from my elbow strike, I couldn't tell. I tried to yank the symbol away but his weight continued to drag me forward toward the edge. I switched my stance desperately, leaning back. "I can't die! I found the city of forbidden treasures! The gold is mine!"

"You want gold?" I told him, and made a desperate move. Instead of pulling back, I jumped. My weight was shoved forward, but I was in the perfect position for a drop kick. My booted feet hit him across his breastplate with the force of a knight's lance, and he screeched as he lost his hold on the eldtritch symbol, flying across the expanse to hit the wall Emmaline had just clambered over before sliding into the abyss, his screams echoing in the void of nothingness. I landed at the very edge, my breath caught in my throat and the symbol in my hands, teetering for a brief moment of horror before I could back pedal. I sighed in relief as I stepped away from the edge, and took a gold coin from my purse to blithely toss into the cavernous hole after him. "Have a refund. Hope you visit us again."

The serpent men, who had regained their composure, halted their advance and actually bowed before us, genuflecting and throwing their arms on the ground. It seemed I only needed to use my will? Emmaline approached from the otherside, giving a smile as she rubbed a bruise on her arm.

"Good line, but don't make it a habit of wasting gold." She said.

"I think there's some more where that came from." I said, and we both approached Fletcher and Callibel to help them up. Luckily the woman was a healer, and it looked like my contract was just about over...

Two days later...

The outpost near the river was small. A dozen huts of timber and a jetty where rafts and smaller craft lazily bobbed in the river. Sweat-laden locals and huntsmen gathered to trade and pass gossip and news as travelers and gold-hunters coalesced in the infamous inn known as 'The Maw,' its namesake a large, reptilian skull opened wide above the awning that covered the porch from the elements. A smattering of locals with raised voices swapped money and bet as they gathered around a small pit where a southland smooth-fured aquatic bear fought and began to devour a sort of man-lobster that clicked in panic as it lost its left pincer.

I had been here before, but not for months. There were always new faces, hardened mercs and grim-faced trappers turning to regard Emmaline and I as we stepped into the insulated common room. Callibel and Fletcher had thanked me profusely once we arrived, but they had business of their own to take care of and they disappeared into the crowd as I led Emmaline for one last meal, one we didn't have to prepare for our own for once. We found a nice corner in at the back where there were cushioned chairs, and my ass felt better for it for the extra copper it cost.

We had managed to procure a few gold relics that I could sell with passing traders if I ever came back here before the monsoon season. Emmaline had found a serpent armlet with ruby eyes that glittered whenever her slim arm moved, as well as a fistful of gold chunks and coins she eyed greedily. Now that we could sit down and actually think about it, we came out of the insanity more fortunate than we had come in, and I had not expected that once the raft had been destroyed.

"So, what are your plans for now?" I asked her as I downed my drink. I remembered the sexy conversation we were supposed to have, but here in a modicum of civilization I felt more than ever the fleetingness of our acquaintance and the fact she was ridiculously high birth. "On your way to the Enclave?"

The Enclave was the famous 'old town' high class grouping of exiled nobles in the great city of Darkwater. They flocked there and joined together to rule the city as their fathers and northern peers had not allowed them to up north. The barons and petty counts were not expressively oppressive, but they did spend the cities gold on parties and trading interests and building projects while the gangs could hold sway over the lower portions of the poorer sections of the city.

At The Edge of The World

I nodded with camraderie, not comprehending she was looking for a way out for herself.

Somehow the Dre Costans had an idea of what was going on here. I vaguely wondered how they would have gotten here if the raft had not been destroyed, and it occured to me that if they were so far in such ruinous lore in this gods-forbidden city that they likely weren't above summoning or somehow causing the murk-beast to wade so far up river to attack us. The fact that it had devoured one of their comrades was just another eerie realization that they would kill anyone that got in their way, like what we saw before us. Of course this was all speculation, but it drove a hot fury within me regardless.

"I know you were wanting me to have a plan, but I don't see much of a way to disrupt whatever's going on than a rush." I admitted with trepidation. Attacking the ferocious serpent-men would likely do nothing but break whatever ward kept them back, and doing nothing would result in those bastards getting what they were aiming for, which was something he couldn't guess. Plus if they were to drop something heavy on the location of the mercenaries, it would kill Fletcher and Callibel.

My eyes darted across the vast chamber, hoping an idea would pop up. I was usually a quick thinker, but this seemed so simple it was unfortunately something we couldn't destroy through cleverness. That is, until I noticed the symbol the mercenary held aloft. It looked much like the symbols scrawled across the walls, just above the waiting legions of the serpent men. An idea popped in my head, and I pointed at one of the wards, leaning down to whisper in Emmaline's ear.

"Can you fire another bolt of lightning?" I asked.

"Maybe... why?"

"Hit one of the symbols on the lined along the wall, where the brass meets the stone. Trust me."

"You're one of the most trustworthy people I know," She said, and though it sounded sardonic it brought a smile to my face. She uttered a word of power and wiggled her fingers as if she was a seamstress, and sparks filled the air moments before a bolt of lightning materialized from her hands. It didn't zip through the air like one would suspect. It popped up like true lightning, both where Emmaline was an at the spot she aimed at simultaneously. There was a crack as stone sundered, sending a broken seam slicing up the wall to bisect the ward.

The mercenaries stopped, stunned as they turned to see one of the dozens of symbols on the wall destroyed. To their horror, four serpent men took up moon-bladed swords and heavy scimitars and stepped languidly through the two pillars that framed where they stood. I smiled as I saw my plan had worked. The army couldn't pour through, but there was a handful of the beasts that could defend what they considered their religious sanctuary.

"What now?" Emmaline began to ask, but I interrupted it and let out a battle cry with my axe held aloft, and I charged forward as the two mercenaries shoved their bound hostages aside and looked to defend themselves from the serpent-men that advanced on their position. One of them lowered his arquebas and fired, killing one of the guardians outright, but he immediately had to drop his weapon and draw his sidesword as they furiously began to defend themselves. Emmaline following me, we waded into the melee that would decide our fate.

Ill Met in Ostland

"Vodka," Natasha ordered. She was a slender woman, but every movement she made had a confidence behind it that had men treating her like she was thrice her mass in pure muscle. Marius had never seen someone like her, particularly a noblewoman. All of the nobles he knew were posh and stuck up or damsels to be saved.

"Vodka's expensive." The innkeeper Jurgen said, crossing his meaty arms.

"Vodka, for the both of us." Marius insisted, holding out the krowns he had taken from the bandits. Jurgen had been standoffish at first, as it had taken them a good ten minutes to get her proud horse into the stable with the other mares, and not only just because of the accent. Luckily the glint of gold changed his stance. It was communication that passed all barriers of both nation and faith. The Last Stop wasn't extravagant, but it was warm and had drink. The oil lamps and torches blazed brightly and the two intrepid meeters by fate's hand had found a comfortable spot in the back to talk.

"So, zis Golden Kettle. Tell me oof it." She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Now that Marius was out of harms way, he noticed how pretty she was. Her face was well formed, her hair was as black as midnight and her body had some curves to accompany that muscle. Even the birthmar-... no wait.

"Uh, you have something..." Marius started, pointing at his cheek. She cocked her head to the side, and wiped her hand across her cheek. It was a bead of blood from the slaughter. To his utter surprise she licked her finger and then brushed away the rest of it.

"Tank you." She said.

"No problem. Uh, yes, the business. My father owns one of the biggest shipping companies in the empire. We load goods and had outposts all across the reik and the river talabec. In fact, Wolfenburg is one of the three major cities in the empire that doesn't have one. The others being Middenheim and and Salzenmund in Nordland."

"Boot kettle...?"

"We started as a shipping company for tea, but it quickly blew up. Now we're known across the land. My father has even shaken the hands of Karl Franz, if you could believe that."

"Szo, you are heer to make new outpost?"

That had Marius hesitating, and he sighed. "No. My father is a great businessman, but he's also an asshole. He banished me, and I came up here to start my own business to prove I can do what he does without any handouts." The suave man was usually less forthcoming, but he felt the woman would understand being blunt to a fault, and he liked to imagine he saw approval in the manner in her eyes. Marius smiled, and just then Jurgen placed down two mugs of vodka and a bottle with more. "So... why is a boyarina coming south to the lands of the empire? If you're looking for mercenary work, that was a good audition. I'd vouche for you."

Marius took a long drink of Vodka, and it stung his senses something fierce. Still, he wanted to celebrate and what better way than to drink an entire bottle of vodka with a woman from troll country?

At The Edge of The World

And she could do magic too!?

"I tend to improvise, but I'll try to match that." I said. I saw Emmaline was out of breath, and I opened my hands and gestured. "May I?"

She nodded with a grin, despite her weariness. I picked her up and laid her over my shoulder, and then started to run. I couldn't match a raptor, but I made good time across the open ground. My feet clapped on the flagstones as we passed by canals and darkwood trees and pillars framing some cosmic city-way. The sun was still in the sky, but I knew it would set within the hour. Even if we made it in time to...whatever was happening, we couldn't leave the city tonight other than by some eldritch means.

The opening in the ziggurat was an intricate knot of all right angles and geometric shapes I couldn't begin to comprehend, and once inside we could either go left or right. I went left on a whim and entered a small hallway that seemed triangular in shape, confining to my sensibilities but somehow we fit. Light filtered in from small holes above, but I couldn't see their origin. It was likely some sort of light bounced off mirrors that helped illuminate the enclosed halls. Or perhaps it was simply magic.

Either way, we passed through one corridor into the next, before I ran across a walkway of stone above a streaming torrent of water that rushed beneath us. Emmaline later told me she saw some vast, serpent-like shape of darkness just under the moving man-made river, but I hadn't bothered to look down too closely. My eyes were too focused on a man-serpent who stood at the doorway that blocked our path. It's look made my skin crawl, and I shuddered as I barreled towards it. It's body was a well proportioned man decked in a skirt of cloth like the ancient Xerubians, but its neck swelled into the shape of a viperish cobra, widening behind its head. It hissed at us and dropped the ornage halberd it carried, instead reaching behind a cleft in the wall and pulling something I couldn't see.

"Beren, run!" Emmaline cried, and I glanced behind us to see the segments at the back of the walkway crumbling into the river, its foundations breaking from weights beneath us.

"Oh fuck! Fuck!" I breathed, heart pumping. I held onto Emmaline tighter, my corded muscles pressing into her soft flesh as my entire body went taut from summoning the last reserves of my strength. I saw the serpent man reach for its halberd again and level it to skewer us, hissing in delight at our predicament. Every footfall I expected to feel nothing but air, and as I heard the last 'pop' of the segment just behind me falling, I sprang like the raptor had the other day. Emmaline screamed, but instead of launching myself at the doorway, I aimed to the left. I knew I wouldn't have made it, and so I leaped to one of the alcoves in the stone beneath it, a few paces above the rushing waves. I fancied I could see a confused look on the serpent man, but of course one couldn't really tell.

I grabbed onto the rounded frames like an ape, thinking on what to do next. But I heard murmuring behind my head, and a zap! Ozone filled the air, my eyes catching the serpent man, still crackling with electricity, falling into the rushing waters below, dead before it sank beneath the river. We both caught our breath for a second, panting as I looked at the walls and found what imperfections I needed to grab to pull us up to the door.

"Hey Emmaline?" I said as I started to climb. She clung to to me.

"Yes?"

"That was the sexiest thing you could have done. We'll talk about it later though." I told her as we ascended slowly, and the next minute I pulled us both up onto the next corridor, collapsing from the weight of both of us tumbling in. We were almost there.

Ill Met in Ostland

Marius was dumbfounded.

Sigmar had actually come to his aid, but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine it would be from some dark haired warrior woman out of the tales. He could smell the blood even above the unwashed, soiled clothing of the dead bandits. It smelled strange, like rust. He saw steam wafting from the wounds, but his eyes did not linger on the bodies. The woman spoke to him and presented his sword before his face. Marius was a smart man, but he felt particularly dumb at this moment. For once he didn't know what to say.

She shook the sword before him, and it spurred him to movement. "Yes, they uh, they smell like shit." It brought a curt nod and a small smile from the woman. He got to his feet and took the sword, a ribaldo his tilean fencing teacher had called it. Too bad the lessons never did stick. Oh, he was a passing swordsman, but anyone with military or real combat experience was a dangerous opponent to him. He tended to like his chances better than a coin flip every time he crossed blades with someone. He grabbed his scabbard and re-strapped it to his belt, before sliding the blade into it again.

"Thank you. I honestly thought I was dead or worse."

"You szought they vould cook or eat you?" She asked with her strange accent again. She was obviously kislevite, and though Marius had never been so far north, he had met one or two of her countrymen before as tradesman on river barges.

"No, but I would be broke. And I would rather be dead than broke." Marius mentioned, taking his coinpurse and tying back onto his belt. At that, he began searching the men with one hand, holding his nose with the other. Sigmar smiled on him again, for he found a few more krowns. As he pocketed the coins, he turned back to regard her. "If I have no money, then I can never go back home or make a living in Wolfenburg. By the way, I did not catch your name fraulien...?"

"Natasha Andropolovskya, daughter of the march warden and boyar Adrov of the troll country." She said proudly, her head rearing up like a stallion. Marius was suitably impressed, and any other circumstance would have irked him because she was one of the few people who had a pedigree higher than his own.

"Marius Schwarz, son of Ludewig Swarchz of Nuln. Of the Gold and Kettle company." He said. "We ship goods reliably and swiftly across the breadth of the Empire." He said with a bow, one hand placed upon his chest. She saluted with her sword in a queer fashion, and he really wondered what had led this valkyrie so far south.

"Did you szay you ver going to Wvulfenburg?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Isz that noot szouth oof here?"

"...yes."

The last thing he expected was for her to offer him a ride, but he accepted wholeheartedly.

At The Edge of The World

I had to be honest, I would have very much loved to go in and explore if I was alone. One of my flaws is an enjoyment of danger, and a curiosity. Deadly circumstances mean little to me and I'm fully willing to leap into it, but I had people I was responsible for and I was raised to do my best to help people. But even with my reservations, it seemed like they were interested in going in too. I wouldn't mind leaving the conquistadors to their fate, but I did take their money and we all needed a place to stay, and so the group inevitably went in.

I walked in first, to make certain there was no danger. I was unsurprised to see there was, in fact, danger.

I stepped closer...and closer... My dark eyes looking left and right and up, and then stepped again.

The portcullis dropped like an anvil, the 'teeth' literal dagger blades that glinted in the sun. I threw my shoulder forward and rolled, stricken with a cold feeling in my chest as I expected to be skewered, but the Evergod was with me. I felt the woosh flying past me, and it stabbed into the ground. Dust flew from when I skidded to a stop and looked back, nearly hitting a small pillar with an oblong shaped handle. I blinked, watching the portcullis raise back up again slowly from some mechanism.

"Uh, no one cross the gateway yet." I deadpanned.

I took a minute to look at the spine of the carving, trying to see the source of the gate's power. I hadn't been privvy to many dwarven engineering projects during my time with them, but I had picked up one or two things. Still, I couldn't find any sort of chain or mechanism, but my brain redirected its thoughts and I turned back to the pillar, which on closer inspection looked like a dias or some sort of control mechanism. I told everyone to back away, and once they did I pulled the oblong handle. It gave easy enough, and then I stepped back to the gate, on the balls of my feet, and then slid my leg under the gateway as I had earlier.

Nothing happened. I breathed a sigh of relief, and the others filtered in with uncertainty. The gate did not act on its own again, and once they were inside the walls, they needed to decide where to go. The conquistadors seemed to eye the ziggurat to the east, but I didn't trust them obviously. Emmaline eyed the surroundings with interest, but didn't speak up. So I suggested we go to the nearest minaret. Once I started moving, the others followed like ripples in a stream. In my experience, as long as people had a direction, they could be led into hell and they would still follow. I hoped I wasn't doing that to them.

There spire was made of tanned stone and brass linings that cascaded upwards into a mosiac of a serpent god's fall from grace, casted exquisitely in the light of the setting sun. Even dwarves would have a hard time making something so well crafted. Even Fletcher stopped and lifted his spectacles to give a 'my lord' in appreciation. I patted his shoulder and gestured for him to continue in under the large, open archway, shielded from the sun.

Inside it was cool, the floors made of smooth stone, though small plants had managed to wring a bit of their slender stalks through. Tables made of some gilded steel had been flipped and chairs scattered, and vines lined up the walls with the energy of a jealous lover. Snaking around the base of the minaret was a long, sinuous stairway that winded up higher and higher until it likely reached the pinnacle. Across the breadth of the room was a small doorway that fed into a hall, darkened by shadow.

"Ok, let's make camp here." I told everyone, and went over to pick up one of the heavy, overturned tables. With a grunt, I lifted the thing off the ground and set it right at the doorway to block the hall, being as careful as I could be. Callibel watched me move it appreciatively, as the table was about twice as heavy as a big man. Once I placed it down, I saw Fletcher and a conquistador rip off vines and place what small bits of kindling they could next to the archway in preparation for another fire.

"I'm going upstairs to check what's up there. Anyone want to come with me?" I asked.

"I'll go," Emmaline volunteered, sauntering over. My heartbeat quickened, and I remember at the time I felt she wanted to check things out as much as I did. Looking back, she probably didn't want to be left alone with the mercs. Either way, it was good she came with me and we started to ascend.

Ill Met in Ostland

"It was at that time, when the battle was surely lost, that he stepped to the front and defiantly raised the Standard of Ostland. From that moment, the day was ours."

-From The Chronicles of Captain Schweisteigger by Christophe von Peache

Marius Schwarz had always liked that quote. He had always been an avid reader of adventure books and military expeditions in far off lands. As a child he had dreamed of sailing the coasts of Lustria or rescuing Brettonian damsels, perhaps performing wonders in front of an Arabyan sultan and being gifted with his most beautiful daughter and a palace of his own. When he had gotten his first sword, he had practiced every day on how he would kill a beastman or behead one of the foul greenskins that plagued the empire. Every trip with his father on a river barge, he wondered if he would see mermaids or have to defend himself from rampaging river trolls.

Growing up, after so many day-dreams and books, he almost felt like a veteran of adventure. It was now time to settle down, enjoy a taste of the business world. Money was the grease that kept the empire flowing afterall, more than even faith in sigmar or good manufacturing. The men of the old world were all in it together, and Nuln seemed like the pinnacle of human development. The booms of the famous gunnery school and the fierce debates over literature in the university were the talk of all Wissenland, and even in the times he had visited Altdorf, he did not feel inferior to the Rieklanders, but a peer in knowledge and sophistication.

The world was his oyster, as they say. And if that was the case...

How the fuck did he end up here, pinned to the ground by footpads that smelled about as good as an autopsy where the subject had shat themselves? Marius had struggled, and for his troubles he had the wind knocked out of him. He could have given them his gold and went on his merry way, but he had to try and talk his way out of the situation, and then had the model idea to cut his way out. His sidesword had been knocked out of his hand from his blindspot and one of the bandits had been a bit over zealous in tackling him to the ground.

"Herr bandit, you don't have to do this. That's the last of my money. The roadwardens will not stand for this. I saw one just this morning!" Marius said in a tone he tried to keep neutral, but it sounded very pathetic on the ground. Marius was never one to be deterred, however. "Sir, plea-"

"Shut up, southern git!" A boot was planted atop his head and grounded his face further into the sludge of both snow and frozen dirt. He felt his dried lip crack and there was a spot of red on the slush. Marius gasped for breath. Around him were four highwaymen, wearing makeshift coats and extravagantly striped pants like they were middenlanders or fops in a play. The air was frigidly cold, and Marius realized he had made a mistake. He should have gone to Tilea or Estalia, not to Ostland of all places.

"I'm just trying to get to Wolfenburg!" Marius cried through the snow shoved into his mouth. It was muffled, but they heard him. He expected them to mock him, but the laugh that came was harder than he would have expected. One of them looked confused, and it only made the others laugh more uproariously. Marius lifted his head up, spitting out dirt and snow. "What is so funny!?"

One of the men with a goatee and an easy smile knelt down in front of the poor waylaid merchant. He gave a smile that showed his teeth, and in his hands was a dagger that looked freshly sharpened. He snickered before he spoke. "This is the north road, you idiot. Wolfenburg is half a day the other way. You passed it." He remarked, and barked a laugh when he saw Marius's confusion. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, I'm not." Marius admitted, downtrodden by the information. He could have been in a warm tavern right now, making business inquiries.

"So what do you do, other than cartography?" The bandit asked the pinned fellow.

"I'm from Nuln. I'm just looking to make my fortune up north. Starting a business, perhaps. You gentlemen wouldn't be interested?" He asked hopefully.

The bandit made a show of thinking about it. He scratched his chin and raised his eyebrow, looking up at the sky as he let out his best 'hmmm'. Once he was bored of the act, he showed the sack of coins they had procured from Marius's belt and jingled it before him. "No, I think we'll just take the money."

At The Edge of The World

I smiled, crossing my arms. "If they are looking, they won't attack." I said with confidence. This wasn't my first encounter, and I placed my hand on my cut arm. The bleeding had stopped and Callabel had wrapped some cloth around it. It occurred to me I had never been in a situation that had involved the beasts that hadn't let to a wound of some kind, and that was still counted as lucky. "They don't do well around fire, and they'll smell their own dead."

"Well that's good," She said, knowingly making an understatement. I laughed, glad I hadn't embarrassed myself the way I had feared. Attraction or not, we still had a few days travel left if we were going on the right path. I felt confident we were heading in the correct direction, but I had never been here before. The old tales from Owyn the huntsman were what I was navigating by, and my general knowledge of the direction of the outpost.

I had very good discipline. One of the tenets of my faith was the forging of an impassable will, which the dwarves could appreciate highly. I was just about to summon that, because I figured she would have wanted to change the subject. But she caught my eyes with hers and subtly moved her body in a way I didn't really perceive, but it caught my attention and more. I know what you're thinking, and no, this wasn't my first time dealing with a pretty woman. But I had only been with one, and it had been awhile ago. Other than travelers, you don't see many people in these lands, especially not in the village I lived. It didn't boast even a thousand people, and almost none of them were around my age. I couldn't read her mind or intentions, but I still had an inkling of what she was doing, and I definitely obliged. The impenetrable walls I had been building crumbled biblically, and I let my eyes slid over her hips and chest.

"Social acquaintances... that what they're calling it across the pond?" I joked, though my brevity came out breathlessly. I placed my hands behind back to lean on the ground, letting my corded arms grow pronounced like my chest did, showing definition through my top.

I had been told I was handsome before, but it never really was something that stuck with me. It was like pointing out that a lizard could regrow its tail or that the sun brought heat. The significance didn't really hit me mattered very little to my day to day life, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, I was glad I had it. The lady Emmaline scooted a bit closer to me, letting me get a marvelous view of her chest that did unrelenting things to me, until a glance at the side showed me the mercs had stopped their talk and eyed us.

"So uh," I cleared my throat and gestured to the mercenaries with a small nudge of my head. "Care to tell me about your estates back north? I don't think I've met many noblewomen heading south." I said, taking a deep breath. Gods I was hot and bothered, but I shoved that aside. We couldn't get familiar on the trail. It complicated things and would give credence or at least fervour to whatever the conquistadors would accuse us of. Plus, I thought, once we reached the outpost, the contract was done. I wasn't a one-night-stand kind of guy. She likely had other obligations and people to marry.

After some time talking and some brief flirting, we and the other groups drifted off to sleep.

The next day, we awoke to a light rain that turned into a downpour accompanied by roaring thunder. Luckily for us we had the stone walls above to shield us, but it kept us immobile for a good few hours before the skies cleared and we could start to move again. We went slow going over the slick rocks and the muddied ground until the earth went even again, and we could begin moving at a better pace. The rest of the day was spent marching, and other than a few smiles I shared with Emmaline, we didn't really converse beyond a few words. Luckily we saw no dangerous predators either, though we did bump into a water buffalo and its calf amongst some tall reeds that we gave a wide berth to.

It was mid afternoon when everything changed.

I had taken my axe out, and despite our differences, the conquistadors and I had begun working in unison, hacking through the leaves, ferns, and brush to cut our way through the dense jungle before we suddenly hit nothing but air. I heard one of the Dre Costan's gasp when he stepped forward past the last tree, and I quickly followed and felt my brows raise as I bore witness to a spectacle I had never seen before.

Walls thrice as tall as a man stood like a cliffside before us, bricked from some unknown material, with sinuous patterns carved into it that harmed the retina to follow and made one dizzy in the attempt.The rest of the group followed in our wake as we approached the wall, and a call of "Senor!" to my right drew my attention. Past another vast tree, we saw the opening in the barrier that was even more impressive and yet wholly terrifying.

The gateway was a massive serpent's maw, opened wide enough for an army to march through. Its teeth were the teeth of a rusted portcullis, opened wide for anyone to pass through freely. I saw its eyes twinkle in the bright sunlight, glimmering as if they were made of precious stones. I let out a whistle as the others joined me, and there were gasps all around.

"Esto es lo que hemos buscado para estos meses, Ricardo." One of the mercs said to the other. As the others whispered amongst themselves, I noticed a flak of something along the wall next to the serpent gate. I walked up and brushed it, and my eyes widened as my hands wiped what I had thought was stone off the rich hue of the material the wall was made of. On it were ancient pictograms I couldn't decipher, but once my shock was gone I realized just what I was looking at.

The walls were made of solid gold.

"What is this place?" Callibel asked, poking her head past the great fanged mouth to peer into the settlement. Spires and ziggurats of stone, gold, and brass towered into the sky, and through nature had reconquered much of the inner city, the roads were still well paved and framed by waterways.

"I don't know..." I admitted, perplexed.

"You don't?" Fletcher asked, astounded at how such a place could go under the radar of any local.

"Tzecholitchi" a voice said from behind, and all eyes turned to Emmaline. The mercs looked at her as if they were about to run her through then and there.

"I've heard of that," I said, memories flooding back to me.

"Really? I was just sneezing." Emmaline lied, blowing her nose.