Winds swirled in all directions across the port landscape in Mythtropolis.
Scraps of parchment, lightweight pieces of rubbish, decaying lettuce and cabbage leaves, together with less identifiable and pleasant detritus, scattered across the harbour and over the exposed decks of the myriad small boats tethered at the public docks.
Heralded by its shadow's silent glide across the damp cobblestones of the wharf road, a shrouded figure quickly marched from a covered doorway down to the gangplank of a trading ship. The small vessel's gangway was still open, the gangplank securely tied to the quayside and the red and blue striped welcome flags flapping and crackling in the crosswinds.
"Ahoy the ship!" the figure croaked, by its voice a female and probably a human.
"Enter," answered a quiet voice from the ship. With the barest nod of its wrapped head to indicate acknowledgment of the welcome, the figure crossed the short gangplank and walked inside the aftcastle of the vessel.
The aftcastle of this small ship, by its lines a trading caravel, was dominated by a huge ornate brass and oak wheel. To the right of the wheel a man sat on a stool, leaving the helmsman's chair vacant. As the hooded figure began to unwrap herself, revealing a surprisingly young and diminutive blonde woman in a bright blue dress, the sailor stood and walked across the chamber to where a coal brazier was warming a teapot.
"Hello, Tinsha. I assume you'll still be wanting a cup of Ienos Black?"
"Aye, Gifredi. And how's life aboard a trading ship agreeing with you?"
"Surprising well. It's not the life I was used to, but there's a peacefulness on board The Isle Antelope I lacked often as not when I was still aboard the war-galleys. And you, Tinsha, after you left the legions, where did you occupy yourself before we met again in the markets?"
"Well... fortune-telling in the markets is one of the better paying jobs I've had. Bit of a comedown you're thinking?"
"Hah! Not really. We knew when we left the legions that there'd be a big shock ahead of us. We went from having everything done for us to having to fend for ourselves - with no experience of it, not since our younger days. Bites hard, the wide world, when you're not fit for its work, eh?"
Tinsha smiled warmly at her old comrade, commiserating with him silently.
Both Tinsha the Sorceress and Gifredi Occupitis Herualdus had been ten year legionaries of the Eastern Empire, spending a decade of their lives from their late teens to their late twenties serving the Empire in whatever way their commanders demanded of them. They had seen action many times in the aftermath of the Wizards' War, and each had risen to a reasonable noncommissioned officer level in the service. The problems for each had come when the legions were put out to pasture at the beginning of the current period of relative peace. Some legionaries simply stayed with the legions until their dying day, even if it meant being a spear carrier or a mule driver or a clerk. For Tinsha and Gifredi - and others of their acquaintance - so sedentary a life would have been worse than death. They needed some form of stimulation. To find it they had to leave not only the legion but also the settled lands of the Empire.
Tinsha, as a spellcaster (and a pretty woman) had found various tasks to occupy her and various groups in whose company to seek adventure. Still, her life had lacked the sudden thrills and threats that had made legion life so enjoyable to her.
Gifredi on the other hand had left the legion to link up with a pre-existing legion veterans' company, running weapons and supplies to freedom fighter groups on Sakuthar, the far eastern continent. He had, in veterans' parlance, "kept his hand in". Never far from the source of conflicts, duels between wizards or warlords, jungle-clad rivers that powerful trading companies fought over; these were the meat and drink for Gifredi.
Then, as happens to each of us, without us knowing, the incredibly compressed dense welter of experiences of our savage youth gives way to a new section of life's river; where the bottom of the river is closer to the surface and the eddies are gentler. Not old age - not yet; just a slowing and a period of rest and recuperation.
For Tinsha, this period set in with a certain grandeur. She had achieved many notable things in her stellar military career for the Empire. For Gifredi, it set in as he was still deciding (or rather failing to decide) which hotspot across the World of Mystery he was going to hie himself off to next.
And so for very different reasons the two old campaigners found themselves in Mythtropolis, the capital of Haranlarche.
Haranlarche was known far and wide as the Kingdom of Crossroads, a small kingdom that straddled the southern coastal routes for the grain and fish trade to the Eastern Empire and the vast influx of trade heading westwards to Zak. In addition, it had a mixed population second only to the capital of the Empire. Almost every sentient species on the planet, with all their varied agendas, were present somewhere in some suburb of the great city.
Gifredi handed Tinsha her tea, took one himself and settled back down on to his seat. Tinsha looked around and, finding only the helmsman's chair available, ironically positioned herself in that, before the wheel.
After taking a long sip of the strong dark tea, she broke the companionable silence.
"So," she smiled, "any real reason for inviting me here?"
"Well, I like to keep in touch with the old comrades..."
"And..."
"I think I have stumbled over something a little unusual, even by Mythtropolis' standards."
"Don't have an adventuring group around you at present then?"
"Not as such. The crew are all good guys, but I wouldn't want them mixed up in what I have found."
"All right, I'll bite... what have you found?"
"It looks like what I've found is some sort of Immortal artefact. And it's just lying in the street. Or sitting in the street anyway."
"What!? Where?"
"Over near the Onion Street Exchange. You've seen that the City Works have dug up all the street there?"
"Yes, I have... did they dig something up?"
"Well no. I was just killing time and dodging a crate shifting duty on board, wandering around the lower eastside. Because of all the digging, I took what I thought was a shortcut through the alleys behind the Exchange. I was trying to stay parallel to Royal Road, because you know what a maze it is back there if you lose your bearings."
"Yes. Go on..."
"I continued on my way through this narrow sidestreets, the walls getting closer and closer on each side. Then without further warning I stumbled into a tiny courtyard, like something out of the 500s... All gables and tiny windows with little flower boxes..."
"Sounds enchanting! Possibly literally."
"Exactly. So I looked around. There were no doors or hatches opening into the courtyard, so it was quite strange. In the middle of the courtyard there's a small granite fountain, a round bowl with a pegasus statuette mounted on top, water playing from its mouth... Very pleasing to the eye."
"And how did you come to think it was an artefact..?"
"I took a sip of the water." Gifredi held up his left hand. Tinsha caught her breath as she saw his fingers.
Long years before, Gifredi's hand had been part-mangled in a ballista accident, the fingers never lying straight again. Now as she looked at them she saw that his hand was unblemished, straight and true.
"Miracles!" Tinsha leaned forward, setting her cup down on the arm of the helmsman's chair. "Do you think it is a magic point of some sort? Or did you blunder into some sort of secret cult headquarters whilst they were all out chanting somewhere?"
"Don't know. But I want to go back with some bottles and borrow some of that water permanently."
"Count me in. I'll meet you at the markets, at my stall, at eleven fingers tomorrow morning."
"I'll see you then".
--continued--
