Reward: 3 Seric Coins.
Vir chuckled nervously. He had, of course, changed his face paint the moment he’d left Daha. He’d never use that face again, nor would he ever go by Neel.
He didn’t fail to notice that the bounty was for Neel, and not Apramor, which was his designated Brotherhood name. No doubt Hiranya would’ve contacted the Brotherhood. Seemed that the organization held true to their word; they hadn’t given up Vir’s identity.
“Not looking to go on a wild goose chase,” Vir replied. “Got any other contracts for me? There must be something?”
“Well,” the veiled woman said, scratching her neck. “There’s one… but you probably aren’t gonna want that.”
“Why? What is it?”
“Protection detail. For a caravan bound for Eshana. That’s a small little town on the other side of the Legion range. Pay is… not great, and ye’ll be going through some steep mountain passes. Just one silver and a hundred karma.”
“One silver?” Vir asked. “Why do the payouts never make any sense? Sometimes they seem appropriate. Sometimes it’s incredibly low.”
“They’re set by the clients, friend, so they run the gamut. Brotherhood rejects contracts that don’t pay enough, but that’s only for the really lowball ones.”
“Uh, and this isn’t?”
“Borderline,” the Executor said. “Tiny branch like us has to take what we get, y’know? Besides, should only take you a few days. Hardly anything out here that would harm a caravan, anyway. And while Eshana ain’t Avi, it’s at least the right direction if you’re headed that way. Lots of mercs bound for Avi recently, too. Rumor is there’s gonna be a big Ash Beast subjugation contract near Avi soonish.”
That was interesting, but Vir wasn’t really looking to take on Brotherhood contracts unless he had no other choice. His top priority right now was gathering information about the Pagan Order.
“This caravan protection mission. Apart from the poor pay, why didn’t you want to tell me about it?”
“Well, it’s the clients, y’see? We almost rejected their contract due to the uh… nature of the clients.”
“What do mean?”
“Sorry, can’t say any more than that without breaching confidentiality. But you should know that there’s no penalty for abandoning this mission. No reward, of course, but you’re not gonna suffer any karma loss.”
Vir’s eyes narrowed. He’d never seen a contract like this one until now. There had to be a catch.
Even so, money was money, and Vir was confident he could handle this one, even if things went south.
“Alright,” he said. “I’m in.”
“Great! Now let me tell ya about the Brotherhood party you’ll be working with on this one.”
7SPEAR’S EDGE
Realizing that food shopping on an empty stomach was liable to empty his wallet, Vir splurged on a scrumptious meal at the local food carts, tasting kebabs, stir-fries, and delicious local sweets, of which an orange deep fried sugar dish was his favorite. Even Neel had his fill, so when they stopped at the market, it was all business.
Owing to its temperate climate, Zorin’s market was outdoors in an enormous square that had been taken over by a sea of colorful fabric awnings, turning the once-open space into something of a maze of vendors.
Vir tied Bumpy up at a nearby hitching post, leaving Neel to guard the beast. He made a pass of the entire market before committing to buying anything. Many of the vegetables and fruits were foreign to him, such as a big red one with hundreds of tiny, juicy seeds inside it. It was his first time laying eyes on a pomegranate, and after tasting their unbelievably sweet aril seeds, he bought a half dozen.
It was only an hour later, after multiple trips to deposit his load back onto Bumpy, that he finished. Zorin’s goods were pricey, but Vir felt good about the two weeks of food his silver bought him.
Finished with the market, Vir made his way to the eastern edge of town, where he was due to meet the caravan scheduled to depart that afternoon.
It wasn’t difficult to spot, the half dozen wagons were impossible to miss. Unlike Param’s wagons, which boasted the same design and color scheme, these had no consistency whatsoever. Some were open, others closed. Some had two Ash’va pulling them, while others were drawn by one. Even among the enclosed wagons, their fabrics were all in different states of disrepair, all of differing color.
Their riders continued the theme, with men—all men—wearing clothing from refined to rags, in many styles and colors.
It felt to Vir like a hodgepodge of strangers had gathered together to brave the journey.
Vir rode past a group of three who stood off by themselves, tending to their three Ash’va. It wasn’t just their foreign-design burgundy armor that caught his eye. These days, he scanned everyone nearby out of habit. Not only was it a useful survival skill, but doing so allowed him to grasp the overall power level of those in an area.
Other than the Executor, Vir hadn’t spotted a single noteworthy warrior, let alone a mejai.
So it came as a surprise that two of the group were strong in Earth Affinity prana, but it was the third member of their group—the tall, black-haired mejai clad in form-fitting burgundy gambeson—that caught Vir’s eyes. She boasted not just one, but three affinities.
Vir flared Prana Vision as he rode by. His eyes lingered over her for just a moment too long, and she caught his gaze, forcing him to look away.
Greater Life, Lesser Water, Lesser Lightning.
That was a potent combination. Not only could she heal herself and her friends, she’d have excellent short-range combat capabilities with her Lightning magic, and Water was useful both in and out of combat. Vir surmised she was at least a Mejai of Ash.
But it wasn’t just her. The blue-eyed blonde not only possessed some Earth prana, but a bit of Fire as well. She was likely both a Talent wielder and a mejai, though not nearly as strong as the other one. The Fire Affinity orbs at her waist corroborated his assessment.
So that’s the group the Executor mentioned. The one I’ll be working with. Wonder what such a strong party’s doing all the way out here, he wondered, approaching the caravan leader.
The man who sat atop the frontmost wagon looked less like a merchant and more a pirate. An old scar ran diagonally from the bridge of his nose across his left eye. Though the man wore no eyepatch, the eye was fused shut.
His wild, greasy black hair, sun-wrinkled skin, and gravelly voice only completed the image,
“You the other Brotherhood merc?” the caravan leader barked.
“That’s me,” Vir replied, as Neel eyed the man warily from beside Bumpy. “You are?”
“Aryan. You’re late. We’re just about to set out. We’ve got a long caravan, so I want one of you at the front and another at the rear. Don’t really care who. Discuss that amongst yourselves.”
“Understood,” Vir replied with a nod. The man wasn’t the politest, but the Brotherhood didn’t pay Vir to anger their clients.
“Expecting any trouble?” he asked.
“Maybe some. Maybe not. Who can say? Mountain passes are dangerous.”
“Out here? I haven’t seen a single prana beast, let alone one with a Balar Rank. What’s your cargo?”
“None of your business, merc.”
“I mean, it’d help if you—”
“None of yer business,” the leader said. “I’m not paying you to ask questions.”
That was true. What they did pay him for was protection, and so he needed to know more about the situation. It seemed that Aryan wasn’t interested in further conversation, so Vir turned Bumpy around and headed to the other mercs.