Grimoires and Gunsmoke

As the sun dipped halfway over the horizon, it cast a warm and gentle glow over the landscape as it threatened to disappear quickly. Shadows seemed to extend endlessly while sensationally colored lights danced along the ground as Azeline, Elijah, Coleman, and Bennett made their way toward the gates of Glennsworth as an advanced party.

There was a strange beauty to this that seemed to capture the adventurers. It wasn't the familiar oranges and reds they were used to in their world, but this world also included a mesmerizing dance of blues, purples, and greens from the crystal-like plants and the weird bioluminescence dotting the landscape. The colors shifted and swirled like a mirage, creating an almost psychedelic display.

Taken from that freelancer Azeline had ended, Elijah rested a two-handed axe leisurely over his shoulder as he followed his local expert as she strode toward the gate with a self-assured gait.

“Hey, Yana,” Elijah suddenly called out as he looked over at his shoulder to see a fairy, her legs carelessly as she sat on his shoulder. “If you hide for me, I’ll let you watch more stuff when we settle down.”

“Hmmm….. Kay!” Yana seemed to chirp happily at the prospect of watching more of those strange plays on her mortal's strange devices. She then hopped up on her feet and jumped into his hood without using her wings before yanking on a fist full of his hair. ”I expect my standard tribute when you’re done doing whatever it is your mortals do.”

A sigh left Elijah’s mouth as he turned his attention away from his Patron and back towards his Azeline, who was leading the way. Just ahead, he saw a small group of guards lounging lazily by the gate. The men were doing the absolute minimum as they inspected each cart and questioned each individual who attempted to enter the town. The Guard's postures remained relaxed, and their expressions bored. It was as if they seemed just about fed up with the day, eager for their shift to end and the night to begin.

Almost as if sensing his gaze, Azeline turned her head around and smiled coyly at him. “Let me do all the talking.”

Coleman and Bennett were hot on their heels with spears taken from the caravan gripped in their hands. They had opted for more traditional weapons to blend in better with the local populace.

“You sure that’s a good play?” Coleman voiced his concern as he stared at Azeline hard with a somewhat worried look.

Elijah turned to look at his team leader, “The local is gonna know how to deal with other locals.” He said somewhat incredulously. “Just let her do her thing.”

He knew Coleman was extremely nervous about this entry, and he also knew the man was somewhat of a control freak, especially when there were so many unknown variables. But trying to micromanage a situation he had almost zero experience in or, hell, a frame of reference in was the surest way to get them all made.

A sour look formed on Coleman's face as he shot a glare toward his subordinate but remained silent. As much as he didn’t like it, Coleman knew that Elijah was right. He had just to let go and place his fate in the hands of this elf and hope for the best. Any interference with any local interaction could have a disastrous effect, and he wasn’t stupid enough to screw it all up just because he was nervous.

Seeing him settle down, Elijah tightened his grip on his axe. Despite how casually he had waved off and dismissed Coleman's worries, he shared them as well. He, too, didn’t particularly like how little control he had over the situation, but he was also far more experienced in dealing with these types of scenarios.

As they drew closer to the gate, Elijah allowed Azeline to take the lead. His mind instead turned to the razor-sharp ax in his hands in order to take his mind off his own anxiety. The weapon was almost perfectly balanced, and in his opinion, as deadly as any firearm in the hands of any of these punch wizards.

A huff of amusement escaped Elijah’s mouth as his mind went to the new moniker he came up with for these magic-using warriors. “Punch Wizards.” He breathed out humorously.

Just when Azeline approached the guards, she waved at them with a friend and disarming smile. "Evening, gentlemen," she called out in a light and airy tone. "Long day of doin’ nothing?"

One of the guards, a shorter human male with a scarred face, looked up in irritation when he heard Azeline's voice. His eyes narrowed as recognition dawned, and a snarl twisted across his features. "Well, well, well," he drawled lazily as he looked at Elijah and the rest of the squad behind him. "If it ain't the elf bitch herself."

Azeline's smile never wavered, and as a matter of fact, it seemed to beam brighter at the sound of agitation in the guards voice. "Nice to see you too, Garrik," she replied a repulsively fluffy tone. "I see your manners haven't improved since last we met."

Garrik spat on the ground as his sneer deepened. "G’feck yerself," he growled, the words dripping with venom. "What brings your knife-eared ass back to Glennsworth? Thought ye'd had go do yer damned job and fecked off. Yer boss know yer still millin’ about?"

But even as he spoke, the guard was walking towards them, his hand outstretched in a beckoning motion. "Come on, then," he said impatiently. "Hurry up and quit wasting my time. Ye know the drill."

The sound of laughter rang out in the evening air as Azeline held her head with one hand and used the other to dig into her pocket in order to pull out a single silver coin, holding it up between two fingers. "Don’t worry about it, you filthy dreg. This should cover us, right?" she asked, her eyebrow arched. "I don't wanna hear no bullshit from you or your boys."

After seeing how easy it was to get the bribe out of the usually stingy woman, a glint of greed sparked in Garrik’s eye as he stared at the sparkling coin. He quickly approached Azeline and reached out to grab it but suddenly stopped halfway through as a thought crossed his mind. His gaze then drifted to her companions behind her, and she realized they weren’t the same people.

"These ain't the folks you left with," he said accusingly in an almost enthusiastic tone. "You picking up strays now? There’s been talk of bandits and invaders ‘round these parts…" He sneered, sensing an opportunity.

Coleman tensed as his hand tightened on his spear. The accusation and implied threat of the guard's tone caused his anxiety to spike as his other hand drifted to his hidden rifle. But before he could think to do anything, he felt Elijah's hand squeeze his arm firmly, but gently.

"Relax, this is just posturing." Elijah calmly whispered next to Coleman. "He's just being a greedy bitch, trying to squeeze a little more money out of her."

Azeline, meanwhile, was unfazed and shrugged carelessly. "I said don’t worry about it. This also means to ignore my new crew," she said simply. "You know how it is in our line of work."

Garrik's eyes narrowed further as his calculating gaze swept across each face. "Aye, I suppose I do," he said slowly. "But that don't explain why I should let 'em in. One silver for you, sure. But these louts? They look like they might be trouble." The guard licked his lips hungrily

Suddenly, Azeline’s posture shifted from casual to confrontational in a heartbeat as her eyes narrowed at the greedy son of a bitch. "One silver per person?" she repeated, her voice dripping with scorn. "Are you out of your fucking mind, Garrik?"

The guard scoffed, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but his lust for coin was getting the better of him. "Times are tough, elf," he said, trying to sound conciliatory. "There be a war, and the Empire is bein’ all uppity. Gotta make a living somehow and your friends here look like they can afford it."

Azeline shook her head in disbelief at the sheer gall of the man trying to take advantage of her even though she knew who she worked for. "You're a feckless idiot if you think I'm stupid enough to pay more than a single silver for everyone here!?" She snarled, taking a step forward into Garrik's personal space. "One coin covers the whole party, in and out, whenever we damn well please. That's the deal, and you fucking know it."

To his credit Garrik held his ground in the face of someone as intimidating as Azeline, but Elijah could see the sweat starting to bead on his brow. "Now, now," he said, his tone wheedling. "Let's not be hasty. These are dangerous times, what with all the new faces coming through. Can't be too careful. Surely an extra coin or two, for the sake of security..."

But Azeline was having none of it. Her hand went to the hilt of her sword as her eyes blazed with fury. "Listen to me, you greedy sack of shit," she hissed, her voice low and deadly. "I've had just about enough of your games. One silver, for all of us. That's the end of it. Push me on this, and I swear by all the gods, I will run you through and leave your corpse for the Rottwings!" Azeline growled, pulling her sword out.

“The feck ya say to me, whore!?” Garrik shouted in anger as he snapped his finger, causing the other guards to surround Azeline and her group in a semicircle. “Ye fecked up, elf! Ain’t no one gonna know ye gonna when you ain’t here on business!”

The tension in the air became palpable as Coleman watched the situation spiral out of control. The movement of the other guards screamed danger as his hidden rifle inched closer to the opening of his cloak. His body was coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest sign of violence.

But just as Coleman was about to make his move, Elijah's voice cut through the tension. "Chill, dude," he said, his tone casual but firm. "They're not gonna do anything. This is all just a show."

Coleman glanced at Elijah, his brow furrowed in confusion. But the medic just grinned, nodding towards Garrik and his men. "The fucker's peacocking," he explained, keeping his voice low. "Trying to see what he can get away with. But he's not gonna push it."

Even as Elijah spoke, however, the guards were getting shifty. They pointed their polearms at Azeline and postured and poised themselves aggressively, ready to attack. A smug smile floated across Garrik’s face as took a few steps back, clearly enjoying the show.

"Take her down on me mark, boys," he ordered, his voice dripping with anticipation. "Let's show this elf bitch what happens when ye don't pay the toll."

But Azeline just laughed, the sound cold and mocking. She looked around at the guards, her eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "You think you and your little band of losers intimidate me?" she asked in an unbelieving and incredulous tone. "Garrik, you know who I am. You know what I'm capable of."

There was a moment of tense silence as Garrik and Azeline stared each other down. The guards, for all their bravado, seemed to be having second thoughts. They knew Azeline's reputation and knew that she was not someone to be trifled with.

As Garrik and Azeline squared off, the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. The guards, despite their aggressive posturing, were looking increasingly nervous. All of them were well aware that she was a trained mana user and had seen her handle individuals they couldn’t even hope to scratch. Yet they surrounded Azeline with their weapons drawn, pointed directly at her. It was clear they were doing this more out of a sense of duty to Garrik than any real belief that they could win.

Azeline, for her part, seemed utterly unconcerned. She smiled mockingly and condescendingly at Garrik while twirling her sword playfully in one hand. Her strange shield was pointed directly at the guard lieutenant, a clear challenge.

Garrik met her gaze as his eyes bore into hers with a fierce glare. But despite his steely expression, there were cracks in his facade. The guard leader's hands fidgeted nervously at his sides, and a bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

The standoff seemed to stretch on for an eternity, the air crackling with tension. But in the end, it was Garrik who broke first.

With a growl of frustration, he kicked at the dirt as his face twisted in a scowl. "Fine," he spat, holding out his hand. "Gimme the damn silver coin, ye damned whore. It ain't worth dying over."

Azeline's smile widened, taking on a truly mocking edge. She sheathed her sword with a flourish, giggling as she did so before tossing him the singular silver coin. "Smart for someone so stupid," she replied, her voice dripping with condescension.

Garrik glared at her, his eyes burning with humiliation and rage. But he said nothing as he snatched the silver coin from Azeline's hand, waving her and the others through the gate with a curt gesture.

But as they started to move forward, Azeline paused. She reached into her pouch and pulled out five more silver coins, the ones Elijah had given her from the stash they'd found in the ruined village.

"Here," she said, dropping them to the ground and kicking them toward Garrik in a mocking fashion. "There's a caravan of villagers from Twineward coming through later. Don't inspect them, just let them pass."

The already angry guard leader became even more furious as he opened his mouth But Azeline cut him off before he could speak. "Ah, Ah.” She cooed in a patronizing fashion. “If I hear you were any trouble for anyone in that caravan," she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of steel. "You’ll be making trouble for Indi."

The mention of Indi's name sent a visible shockwave through the gathered guards. Even Garrik, for all his bluster and bravado, couldn't hide the flash of fear that crossed his face as he took a few steps back. At least Tamos had told him that this damned elf had concluded her job Indi had tasker her. But Garrik knew that bastard was dumb as bricks and was wrong a lot more often than he was even halfway correct.

The usual facade Garrik wore started to crack, revealing the terror beneath. Indi's name always evoked a mix of awe and dread. The mysterious figure was known to have their fingers in every pie, from the humblest beggar to the richest of merchants. Those who crossed them had a habit of disappearing, only to turn up later in the Idylss River, a stone tied to their feet.

It didn't matter who you were - a lowly guardsman or even the mayor. If you interfered with Indi's business... you were signing your own death warrant.

Not so long ago, there had been a time when the town had gone through several mayors in quick succession. Each thought of themselves above Indi's influence, and each tried to assert their own authority. And each had met a grisly end, their bodies washing up on the riverbank, bloated and fish-eaten.

Since then, a simple understanding has been reached.

Don’t poke your nose into Indi’s business.

Everyone knew Azeline often worked for Indi, and with just a few words, the elf had invoked her boss’ authority and placed the coming caravan under Indi's protection. She made it clear that any interference would be seen as a direct challenge to her boss.

Garrik looked like he might be sick as his face went pale. His hands trembled as he quickly bent over to pick up the silver coins. He knew, with a sinking certainty, that he had no choice but to comply. "U-understood," he stammered, his earlier bravado completely evaporated. "The caravan will pass through unmolested. Ye have my word."

Azeline's smile was like a razor's edge. "Good," she purred. "See that it does. Indi doesn't take kindly to disappointment."

With that, Azeline waved for the others to follow her as she strode into the city. Elijah and the rest fell into step behind her, leaving the guards chirping nervously at each other, as if they had just narrowly avoided a brush with death.

As they passed through the gate, Coleman quickened his pace to walk alongside Azeline. "That was impressive…" he commented, his tone a mix of admiration and curiosity. "But why didn't you drop Indi's name earlier? Could have saved us a lot of trouble."

Azeline glanced at him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Garrik's the kind of man who only responds to a firm hand," she explained. "If I had played that card too early, he might have thought he could still push his luck, maybe try to squeeze a little more out of us."

She shook her head, her expression turning serious. "No, with bullies like him, you need to put them in their place first. Show them that you're not to be trifled with. Then, and only then, do you use a higher authority."

Elijah, who had been listening in, chimed in. "You give a guy like that an inch, he'll try to take a mile. You've got to shut that down hard and fast, or he'll start thinking he can poke his nose where it doesn't belong."

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "A quick kick in the nuts, a little humiliation... it reminds him who's really in charge. After that, he'll do what he's told, no questions asked."

Coleman looked at the two of them as a flicker of suspicion crept across his gaze. He had already put together that Azeline worked for the more… underground elements of this world, but Elijah seemed to be equally as knowledgeable. It made him wonder just how much experience the medic had with these kinds of situations and where he learned it from.

But before he could dwell on it further, Coleman realized they had just fully entered the town, and the sights and sounds of Glennsworth drove all other thoughts from his mind.

It was a place that buzzed with an energy that was at once alien and familiar. In many ways, it resembled the medieval towns Coleman had seen in movies or shows – narrow, winding streets lined with stone buildings, the clang of blacksmiths' hammers ringing out from open-air forges, the cries of street vendors hawking their wares.

But there were also elements that were distinctly fantastical. Vegetation seemed to grow from every crack and crevice, vines, mushrooms, and strange, luminescent flowers sprouting from the very stones of the streets and winding along walls. Children and diminutive creatures darted through the crowds, baskets strapped to their backs, plucking the growths and tossing them into their containers as they went about.

And then there were the people themselves. Humans mingled with a smorgasbord of beings that ranged from the elves to the outright bizarre. Coleman saw a towering figure that looked like it was a damned Minotaur, except the man had tanned skin and goat horns. Then, there was a slender being that was similar to the elves, except their skin was like obsidian, and then a short creature that seemed to be somewhat similar to the mythical Satyrs walked by. But… instead of the standard males that were standard in mythology, these were a mix of males and females.

Shaking his head, Coleman reached into his cloak and discreetly clicked his radio to life. "This is Baron 1 to all entry elements," he said, his voice low but clear. "We've secured entry into the town for the caravan. Integrate with them and proceed as planned. Over."