B2-Chapter13: Iron is the hand.
Given as how I presently owned a single horse, the decision to forfeit the cart entirely was made and the long trek to Hullbretch started on my own. Ishila promised to ensure my wishes were carried out in my physical absence, and off I went.
This path I had not tread in quite so ti, yet it was familiar still. Dust kicked up from my heels, a clear indicator of how dry this sumr had been. The air lay hot and heavy, frighteningly little moisture at the base of these slopes. Trees had lost their lush tint and roadside plants looked parched.
A distinctive difference when compared to my mostly irrigated farm.
Riders under the banner of the Verdant Dawn passed , on their way back up the mountains long inclines. n and won I had not seen before. The reinforcents Raffnyk had once longed for, I concluded. They too passed, and my journey resud.
Heat was what made doubt my eyes at first. Yet as I drew closer and the blurry sight beca sharper, slight bafflent instead filled . Right there, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by empty fields and dry forest, stood a gate. Squarely planted across the road, wooden structures to either side.
A shout rang from the small battlent and a hatch was cranked open. A shout demanded I stand and declare my business in the region. The following statent -made by a separate voice- inford the toll to pass was a single gold piece.
Its on the wrong side of the gate fer a toll, you eejit! The first barked at whoever had just uttered that.
The voice turned back to , a surly, barely-shaved human in ill-fitted armor that peered through the hatch at .
Declare yerself, citizen. He barked again.
They seed rather willing to accept that I was a farr living up the mountain, truth be told. After several monts, the gate was hauled open and I was waved through. A short, almost amusing interruption to my day, yet it posed several questions.
From the recesses of my mory, I recalled that no one was allowed to bar entrance to a dungeon, yet it seed soone had found a way to at least discourage travel. Or, even more likely, simply profit from it. I did not see Ironmoors colors flown above the gate, but would his soldiers not have torn it down if this was unsanctioned?
This only further cented in my mind an image of the Baron as soone who skirted the rules. Divine or otherwise.
The rest of the trip proved uneventful, if boring. I soon found myself draining my water flask, the heat and sheer dryness of the air sapping my strength. Hullbretch lood, and I soon found myself once more within its walls.
The looks I received here were..different. People kept a respectful -sotis fearful- distance. No longer was I just a minotaur. Now, I was soone denoted by the Gods Above themselves.
Shopkeepers wanted my coin anyway. Sothing so trivial as being blessed by the System itself did not exclude from paying their prices, I found. While I would not have turned down differential treatnt of my coin-purse, this did little to bother . Now, I had the gold to have carts sent right to my doorstep, laden with seeds and materials and promised to arrive in a tily fashion.
A few spoke of trade agreents and future contracts to buy crops and more magical materials from . My reputation was well-known, I found. The alchemist whos na I had forgotten attempted to cut a deal for more lucrative ingredients and access to so of my monstrous plants, but i refused his ever-growing offers.
Only a fool traded with resources he did not yet have.
Pardon my impudence, but not just anyone can walk up and see the Baron.
While well-aning, this advice from a guard I had fairly cornered to acquire directions was lost on .
I suspect he will make ti for . For one reason or another.
I was gone monts later, clear directions to the Barons ho acquired. Another quarters days walk past Hullbretch, towards the inner territory of the Ironmoor lands. A long walk for most n, but once again, my longer stride and relentless endurance proved their universal usefulness. With naught but the road and dust around , I soon found myself once more imrsed in my thoughts.
If given the chance, would I ever even go back to a humans body?
The larger stature could prove a hindrance at tis, yes. People were frightened by , in most cases.
Yet I found that I preferred this over simple apathy that ca when they regarded just another human. They noticed . They knew of . And I would be the boldest of liars if I said that did not satisfy , sowhat. My re presence provoked fear, and more than that, respect. And like a weed, this had grown on .
Ti flowed by quickly with this train of thought, and all too soon, I found myself before the gates of the Barons fortress. Safe to assu this was his, given the colors that flew overhead and the lack of any other royalty in these lands. Situated on an upward slope, one could marvel at the almost utilitarian defensive placent here. The forest was stripped away for nearly half a kiloter in circumference to the walls. I could glimpse several layered walls from where I stood, each larger than the last.
There had been no expense spared in securing and making this fortress formidable. Horns sounded as I erged from the trees and strode up the stone road that led to these front gates. Like a disturbed porcupine, the fortresss quills rose into position. Ballistae mounted upon the walls swung down towards , and archers appeared on the ramparts, massive greatbows nocked as they regarded .
Neck craned back, I gazed at the ramparts top once I had stopped before the stout iron gates.
Youre a long way from ho, minotaur. A gristly voice followed clanks of armor as a figure appeared over the walls pinnacle to gaze down at . My wonderful eyesight could not make out any distinguishing features underneath the veritable mountain of armor this man wore.
Not particularly. I answered, hands on my hips as I regarded the fortress. Thick walls, alert guards, well-ard and armored. Not a place I would ever assault without considerable magical help and a clear-cut advantage in every way. I am a citizen of these lands, here to see the Baron.
The head withdrew for a mont, and I was left alone, naught but myself and dozens of archers for company. With the size of those bows, I had no doubt they would have resembling a pincushion if given the order.
Skin of iron or not, I knew what a proper greatbow could do to even steel plate armor. These thoughts kept company as ti dragged on. Patient face well and truly put on, I pawed at the stone beneath my feet and wiped sweat from my brow. My waterskin was dry before the figure appeared once more.
Be you Garek? Ca the yell from on high.
I am. I rumbled back. The clanking of tal cut off anything further as the massive gates began to inch open before . One last thought wove fleetingly through my mind before I stepped through and the steel began to close behind .
There were arrow-slits spaced thodically to either side of the tunnel I walked strode through now. Iron grates were lifted ahead of as I walked through the kill-zone. Once, I would have considered the construction of this fortress to be among the most secure in dieval tis back on my howorld.
Now, I knew how many things magic could trivialize.
A contingent of armored guards waited for at the tunnel's ends. Easily a dozen figures, all ard and armored to the proverbial teeth. Grey steel with slashes of the Barons deep green over top. I stepped into the sunlight and was imdiately gestured forward. Rank closed behind as the soldiers fell into step, carrying forward. My eyes sighted a stable as I was ushered along, then a smithy where the ring of hamrs echoed from. Guards lounged everywhere. Every conceivable line of sight had soone in it. And even more simply lazed around, watching figures duel in practice and play gas of chance.
My estimation of how dangerous Ironmoor was rose by several notches as I beheld the veritable army stationed inside this fortress.
Your lordship seems to have enemies. I slipped the barbed observation into the relative silence as we walked along. By silence, I ant a lack of words spoken, not noise.
Tug at a trees rotten roots, and the branches will co crashing down. The commander grunted cryptically.
To station so many soldiers at ready here, to keep them paid and at the ready would require deep, deep pockets. Either that, or Ironmoor expected sothing to happen, and soon. One did not simply raise an army and then have it sit idly by.
We pass beneath another, inner wall soon after. Another fortress sat squarely inside this one, an imposing structure of dark stone and steel. There was no plant life within these walls, I noticed.
Druids. The commander grunted in response once I asked why. There was no ti for further questions, I found. We were stopped abruptly, and I was told to keep moving forward. Now by myself, I passed into the fortress under the watchful gaze of guards above.
The guards within here were less uniform, but it would take a fool to not sense they were elite. Often less armored, there was a danger to how these people walked and sat. rough-looking humans in different clothes. All who seed familiar with bloodshed.
A fully raised army and elite killers? There was a storm forming underneath these clear skies.
The first hint of greenery I spotted was a courtyard that I was directed towards. Trees grew here, and grass covered the floor. Not a hint of animal life was within this place, however. Indeed, I found a single living person in this artificial garden, death hung before him.
There hung a chiras corpse from the branches of the widest tree I had ever seen. Elbow deep in the corpse, the human ignored my approach as he carved loose the scaled skin of this monstrosity. Leather livery stained with blood, he thodically worked away to skin the great beast.
Clear grey eyes turned to as the figure continued to cut loose muscle from flesh. His gaze regarded flatly, no emotion shown. Drenched in blood and sweat as he was, his scent showed the sa. No fear stirred in this man as he regarded up close.
The minotaur. He grunted and withdrew one bloody arm from the massive corpse, knife held in his grasp. Without a change of expression, he stabbed his tool into the exposed shank of the dead beast and offered one blood-drenched hand.
Baron Ironmoor, I presu. I returned and squeezed the mans hand. It was slick with blood, but even so, his grip was tight.
I finally put a face to all the tales I have heard. The man spoke, looking up and down.
As do I.
To the chase, then. What brings you to my ho this day? Last I heard, we had bad blood between us, given your..unique circumstances.
No nonsense, right to the point. A man who valued ti. I would not do him the disservice of wasting his.
Recent events have shown that burying this feud would be the best course of action for . I spoke carefully, my tone neutral.
You have crossed my path several tis, set back my plans, and attempted to kill my favored justiciar. His words had never shifted in tone, but I heard the iron in his words now. Were you any other, I would have had you disposed of by now. But as fate has it, I find myself in need of your talents.
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