Part 24 “Warrior” =Alexander=

Everything all together now? Potions to cure the blight, check. Blessed water to remove it from the crops, check. Scroll to give to our priest, check. Day's rations, check. Firewood, check, wouldn't need it if they would have just let me into the city to talk directly to the local healers, though.

Alright then, time to head out.

The route should be safer now that the local orcs have been cleared out. Still don't know if I want to camp a night alone, might just push on through dark until I get there. Not many people headed out this gate, and most of them that did looked like the sort that would head off west to Ambergorge. Hmm, he looks like he might not be in one of these caravans. He might be one of those treasure hunters, bright armor and a fine looking sword, and a pack that has to have at least a week of rations in it. Hopefully he's going up north to that ruin, then we could probably travel together at least until I get home.

“Hoy! You wouldn't be heading to or through Timberfell, would you? You, with the big sword!”

I start walking over to him as he turns to see who's shouting. Wow, that gear really puts mine to shame, probably worth more than I make in a year. The shield must be magic, now that I'm closer I can see it swirling like a dust devil. I wonder how much more of it is magic. He carries himself like a soldier. Sharp turn and a stern look. Hm, he's looks a bit older, perhaps he's a captain on leave.

“Why do you ask?”

A simple enough concern.

“Well, I've got to get this cart full of medicines and other similar supplies back to my hometown. Our town had a terrible blight on the crops that didn't show itself until we ate it, dunno how it missed me. Though I must say, I've never been sick a day in my life. Not like Michael, he probably hasn't gone a month without coming down with something, and...” I'm getting that look again, back on point it is. “I was wondering if you wouldn't mind traveling with me. There's no way I'm getting there before dark, and while the roads are safer now that some mercenaries took out the local orcs, well, I still don't think I'd like resting or walking the roads alone after sunset.”

There's another look I've gotten before, it says, 'Blast it, I don't actually want to be stuck with him, but there's really no good way to avoid it now.'

He steps away a little, and then looks me up and down… He is rather tall, now that I'm closer it decidedly gives an imposing quality to his posture. Can't be certain under all of that armor, but he must be built like an ox, muscle all the way through, could probably wrestle an ogre to the ground. The armor itself can't all be steel, unless that blue tint comes from some form of enchantment. His face is more than a little hardened, even more so than even most of the soldiers I've seen.

“Sure, but perhaps we should keep at least a little distance. I don't know if it's catching and I can't afford to get sick on the road alone. I guess I should probably wait until you distribute that medicine before heading through, anyway.”

“Ah, thank you, sir. By the way, my name is Alexander, yours?”

“Leo.” There was a pause there, though I don't think he's lying. Hm, perhaps he was thinking of lying.

“Well, Leo, shall we?”

I take hold of the cart and we embark, I had no idea it would be this heavy... Why did the beasts of burden have to catch ill too? Travel for a while is discomfortingly quiet.

“That's some nice gear you have there, really puts my hauberk and spear to shame. Is it magical?”

 

“Yes.”

“Must have cost more than this poor militiaman could ever hope to make. I must say, I don't think I've ever been this close to actual enchanted weaponry and armor being worn. Even the caravans that pass through occasionally barely ever have something so amazing. Hm, it all looks so pristine. Where did you get it?”

He points his thumb back down the road towards Henningway.

“You mean you had enough on you to buy all of it just recently? And all of it's magic?”

He nods affirmatively. “except the sword”

Quiet one...

“Is the sword not magic or is it -”

“Not from Henningway. Had it since I was a boy.”

“Family heirloom? Marton back in town has a beautiful shield that was passed down fro-”

“No.”

“Then how did y-” I know that look too... I don't want to finish that question, must be a touchy subject. “So you must make a lot of money, what do you do?”

“Mercenary.”

“Must be exciting, traveling from battle to battle, never knowing when you might breath your last... Actually, that part is probably not so exciting as the bards make it out to be.”

Silence... I should buy this man a few beers in Timberfell, after the medicine is distributed. I'll bet that that'll make him more talkative.

“Hm, so what do you do with it all? You can't just spend it all on newer better armor, can you?”

He taps the sword slung at his back, it shimmers ever so faintly at his touch.

“Wait, you don't mean you actua-”

“Yes, the company kept me fed, and armored. I made this sword better at every opportunity.”

“You mean, you spent all of your time fighting, to make money, to make your sword better, so you would be better at fighting... since you were a boy?”

I know that look, too. I don't think he ever realized that... Now he looks very deep in thought, I don't know if I want to interrupt now...

It's disturbingly quiet... I never thought I'd be thankful for squeaky wagon wheels. The almost methodical noise doesn't do much to ease the atmosphere, the sun casting longer shadows does even less. The rattle caused by the uneven dirt road interrupts it intermittently, as do the birds, and later, crickets.

“It's growing dark we should probably set up our camp now.”

He speaks!

“Sure, I'll start the fire. Would you like to take first watch?”