all, the Sorcerer’s eyes burned with unwavering determination.
Varlock-Sharron Anduin and his captive Sorcerer locked eyes once again, in a wordless battle of wills where neither could prevail.
Chapter 2
The Kingdom of Sharron had an infrastructure second to none.
The main highways were well traveled, and thus well maintained. Taxation of the people, which was always a source of contention no matter how great or small, did not go directly into the pockets of the nobility, but were spent on the maintenance of roads and aqueducts and sewers and other aspects of infrastructure.
With winter approaching, the inclement weather that the season brought to these lands would often expand any pits or potholes along the roads. This time of year, the sight of kingdom maintenance crews along the well traveled paths were a reassurance to the taxpayers.
The merchant found their line of work distasteful and completely unappealing, no matter how important it was to the continued well-being of the nation.
He had already been delayed fifteen minutes by the first such group of roadsmiths and gravellers, the second had held him up another half hour. The longer he heard the noise, the more annoyed it made him.
His cart had a very squeaky left rear wheel he was regretting not lubing before setting out for the village of Korma. He shook his head at that thought. The last thing he’d needed was another expense.
The constable beside him was looking out at the trees to either side of the causeway, as if the mounted rider before them might miss something. The merchant glanced back at the last constable, riding behind them, the look on his face showing his annoyance at the squeaky cart he’d been hired to follow.
The Lord Mayor of Tuvann, in an effort both to protect cargo and earn money for the town’s coffers, had recently begun to hire out trios of constables to individual merchants traveling from Tuvann to either Korma or Natarn or even Vaneyer in the Vann Region. With the rumors of outlaws called The Falcon Raiders all about, he concluded that the protection of his citizens’ wares was paramount to the revitalization of the formerly prosperous community.
The merchant grimaced to himself at that. The gates at the roads into Tuvann were littered with broken carts and wagons and various other refuse, a constant fire hazard. Over the past two decades, those elected to civil leadership of the town had been increasingly more and more corrupt, and pocketed tax revenues, letting the town fall to disrepair. When the last such leader had gone too far, and took from the pockets of the local Baron, a Magistrate had appeared with Baronial Guardsmen, and arrested and imprisoned the man. Soon his entire staff was taken as well, and the town had a chance to elect a leader completely unconnected to the years of unscrupulous government.
The new Lord Mayor, recently elected, had promised to clean that all up. Of course, funding to do so had to come from somewhere, so hiring out the largely superfluous constabulary was one of his means to that end.
Of course the merchant was a skeptic, and knew that corruption went beyond the offices of the town’s officials, and that it would only be a matter of time until things went back to how they used to be.
For the first time in years, the merchant did not travel alone. While he’d been perfectly willing to shill out for the services of his escort, he’d been slightly less pleased at the extra he’d been forced to pay, not long after departing his home village.
As they’d rounded the first bend and reached the treeline, the mounted pair halted his cart, while the constable at his side checked its contents. It only took a moment for him to discover the false bottom of the cart, and the truffles hidden within.
They’d left the merchant with two options. Pay them to forget they found the goods he was concealing, or return to Tuvann a captive, and face imprisonment for
Varlock-Sharron Anduin and his captive Sorcerer locked eyes once again, in a wordless battle of wills where neither could prevail.
Chapter 2
The Kingdom of Sharron had an infrastructure second to none.
The main highways were well traveled, and thus well maintained. Taxation of the people, which was always a source of contention no matter how great or small, did not go directly into the pockets of the nobility, but were spent on the maintenance of roads and aqueducts and sewers and other aspects of infrastructure.
With winter approaching, the inclement weather that the season brought to these lands would often expand any pits or potholes along the roads. This time of year, the sight of kingdom maintenance crews along the well traveled paths were a reassurance to the taxpayers.
The merchant found their line of work distasteful and completely unappealing, no matter how important it was to the continued well-being of the nation.
He had already been delayed fifteen minutes by the first such group of roadsmiths and gravellers, the second had held him up another half hour. The longer he heard the noise, the more annoyed it made him.
His cart had a very squeaky left rear wheel he was regretting not lubing before setting out for the village of Korma. He shook his head at that thought. The last thing he’d needed was another expense.
The constable beside him was looking out at the trees to either side of the causeway, as if the mounted rider before them might miss something. The merchant glanced back at the last constable, riding behind them, the look on his face showing his annoyance at the squeaky cart he’d been hired to follow.
The Lord Mayor of Tuvann, in an effort both to protect cargo and earn money for the town’s coffers, had recently begun to hire out trios of constables to individual merchants traveling from Tuvann to either Korma or Natarn or even Vaneyer in the Vann Region. With the rumors of outlaws called The Falcon Raiders all about, he concluded that the protection of his citizens’ wares was paramount to the revitalization of the formerly prosperous community.
The merchant grimaced to himself at that. The gates at the roads into Tuvann were littered with broken carts and wagons and various other refuse, a constant fire hazard. Over the past two decades, those elected to civil leadership of the town had been increasingly more and more corrupt, and pocketed tax revenues, letting the town fall to disrepair. When the last such leader had gone too far, and took from the pockets of the local Baron, a Magistrate had appeared with Baronial Guardsmen, and arrested and imprisoned the man. Soon his entire staff was taken as well, and the town had a chance to elect a leader completely unconnected to the years of unscrupulous government.
The new Lord Mayor, recently elected, had promised to clean that all up. Of course, funding to do so had to come from somewhere, so hiring out the largely superfluous constabulary was one of his means to that end.
Of course the merchant was a skeptic, and knew that corruption went beyond the offices of the town’s officials, and that it would only be a matter of time until things went back to how they used to be.
For the first time in years, the merchant did not travel alone. While he’d been perfectly willing to shill out for the services of his escort, he’d been slightly less pleased at the extra he’d been forced to pay, not long after departing his home village.
As they’d rounded the first bend and reached the treeline, the mounted pair halted his cart, while the constable at his side checked its contents. It only took a moment for him to discover the false bottom of the cart, and the truffles hidden within.
They’d left the merchant with two options. Pay them to forget they found the goods he was concealing, or return to Tuvann a captive, and face imprisonment for
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