096 – Meet Karen

  Skarg. The capitol city of the kingdom of Krogg. Like many cities on Tywacomb, Skarg had started out as a fortress village next to a river. Over the centuries the city grew. Four sets of fortress walls ringed the central city at increasing and irregular distances and connecting walls divided the internal areas into various districts. The walls demarcated where the city had grown to when the next series had been built over the centuries. The newest walls were a double set of low outer and high inner walls five centuries old, many miles around, on both sides of the river, and the city had out grown them. Some sections of wall snaked out to the current limits of the city proper, and guarded some districts from whatever was beyond. Fortress gates straddled the main roads into the city, regardless of whether there was a fortress wall to be built upon. While stone was the primary construction material for martial and government structures, much of the civil and merchant society preferred timber, plaster, slate, and brick and mortar. As with older cities, construction age and style could tell a careful observer where fires had destroyed individual buildings, whole blocks and a few districts over the centuries.

  Farm lands fronted much of the city’s circumference, but a significant portion was also timbered, with villas for the cities wealthy tucked into the meadows and hills. The area was not very high in elevation, despite being three days travel inland from the coast. As such, the humid air did get cold and there were snow and ice storms in the winter, but snow did not accumulate on the ground for very long.

  A road ringed the city at between one and five days foot travel depending on which direction one traveled. This road anchored various towns that further demarcated the highway system of and through the kingdom, leading off to the duchies that subdivided the kingdom. These duchies each boasted their own capitol cities, and stretched west to the coast, and east past the tallest mountain range in this area; north to the next river and its seaport, and south to fertile grasslands.

  Where other cities were founded on trade of a given resource, Skarg. was founded on the control and intersection of two trade routes. One a north-south highway; the other the Krogg river, which stretched to the sea. All but the largest of ocean-going vessels could sail up to dock at Skarg. Barge traffic could go further up the Krogg river to a small port town north east of Skarg., but beyond that the river was too shallow for anything but personal dinghies. Larger traffic could also go up the Garmad river but there was only one port past Skarg. It was a fortress that did turns as a shipping point for fall harvests.

  The monarchy that reigned in Krogg set its throne on an island with access by bridge to either side of the river, north, east or south, where the Krogg and the Garmad rivers joined. Most of this island was dominated by a castle. Time and manpower had diminished the island to the point that on all sides, the river ran past the foundation stones of the outer fortress wall. Though Krogg had not seen major war in almost two dozen years, the current monarch had taken the throne by marriage at the force of arms, and had expanded his territory to its current boundaries by the same.

  Today a woman walked across the main northern bridge to the fortress gates, and to the guard at the post. She showed him her written summons/pass, and was waved on. This repeated several times, at each portal. She crossed the courtyard, and into the palace proper. Across the hall, left down that hall, and to the doors. The guards stood with crossed pole arms.

  The woman, named Karen, stopped and waited. She held herself well. Brown hair hanging to below her shoulders. A heavy tunic and leather vest above, a woolen skirt below, boots beneath, a winter cloak tied about her shoulders. As she went further into the structure and its warmth, she opened her cloak and turned the front open across her shoulders to keep from getting to warm. Her features were soft enough to be unremarkable.

  A crazed looking old man finally scurried from a side room, and took Karen’s papers. As she turned to follow, the man motioned her to stand where she was.

  Karen noticed that the guards had shifted their weight slightly at her movement. As had a shadow off to her extreme right. The man shuffled away into the side room, looking increasingly mad with each step. Finally he returned and spoke, in the high voice of supplication.

  “Come. Come.” He moved between the pole arms and opened the right hand door. He held the door for Karen as she entered the dark room beyond it.

  Karen’s senses told her that two people stood in the corners behind her. The Queen could be barely seen sitting across the room in the dim light, with its dimmer shadows. A quiet whisper, full of meaning, rustled across the darkness, as The Queen spoke.

  “You are Silver Adder. Sent to fill a contract.”

  Karen held herself straight. “I am.” She held her extra senses to herself, sensing the probe of a fifth person in the room.

  “You know of the two children recently here, and the prophecy attached to them?”

  “I do.” Karen could sense meaning in what was said, like roots under the earth. ‘Speak as little as necessary’ was a guild motto.

  “Good. I will pay you twenty five pounds of gold, and gems, plus reasonable expenses, to eliminate the wizard guiding the parents, and arrange for the parents capture.”

  The Guild also had a standing rule ‘as opposed to other customers, never haggle with Royalty.’ Expenses were a different story. “Do you have a preference on how, where, or when?”

  “Before they can retrieve the children if possible. Before they leave The Kingdom at all costs.” The voice was a dry wind across fall leaves.

  “Expenses may be considerable. I would hate to cost you a good man, should your people get in my way. They shall wait for my signal before coming to capture the parents. And they shall have the completion of my payment with them at the capture.” Karen preferred to work unhindered. Arranging capture was troublesome. Every assassin knew the corollary to ‘don’t haggle with Royalty.’ ‘Always have payment in hand before delivery.’ Royals had a habit of eliminating assassins upon completion of a contract.

  “Done.”

  A squire brought forth a parchment with the contract, a quill, and a small bag.

  Karen produced her own stylus, wet it in the available ink bottle, and signed the parchment with her professional signature.

  The squire handed her the bag. Karen opened it, giving it a good shake, seeing coins and gems tumble about in it. She pulled the drawstrings, feeling them as untreated leather. She took her copy of the contract, and followed the squire out.

  Karen left the palace, and went to one of her safe houses: a room over a tavern that she owned. She sorted the bag’s contents into a large casserole pan of soap and water. Satisfied that she had washed it all sufficiently she set the money aside, changed clothes, and went downstairs for her turn as bar-lurker. While of average height, Karen always held herself erect, and so looked taller than she actually was. She also paid attention to what she ate and how much, and exercised regularly.

  The lunch rush was petering out, when she quickly spotted the two irregulars from the crowd, and they spotted her. One came over to where she stood at the bar.

  “The Gentleman would like to buy you a drink.”

  Karen looked at the messenger, almost ready to give her usual response. She worked as security and backup server, not as a wench or guilds-woman. But something about the confidence and bearing he stood with told her he wasn’t even considering that sort of proposition. His winter coat was hung on the hook of a booth-coat-tree. His clothing said he was 'important' without being contemptuous of others.

  “Very well.” She stood, and motioned the man at the table to one of the curtained booths on the inside wall, as she entered carrying her glass of water she had been nursing all afternoon.

  A moment later, The Gentleman entered, and his man closed the curtains. The Gentleman sat opposite Karen, with his work hardened hands clasped on the table. An older man, but not yet into physical decline. He wore the seasonal business-formal attire of a man of means. He spoke without preamble.

  “You received a contract today. I would counter it.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Karen had her senses on full, but found no threat. She took a drink from her glass.

  “You went before The Queen, and received a contract for twenty five pounds of gold and gems plus expenses to kill a wizard, and deliver the parents of the children of prophecy.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Daughter of Oleg, I know the stipulations of your guild, and I have met them. Now speak truthfully.”

  Karen spun the glass with her thumbs for a moment. “You are correct in your information. How do you come by it?”

  “There are few secrets that The King and Queen keep from me.”

  “Ah. You are a Chancellor, or a Viser.” Karen knew precisely who she had sitting here, and was a bit surprised. She let him carry his facade a bit longer.

  “Something like that.”

  “So what is your counter offer?”

  “Do not just turn the parents over. Instruct them on what they need to know to defeat The King and Queen in battle.”

  “You know that prophecy as well as anybody. Only the children can kill them.” Now that’s ambition, Karen continued the thought to herself.

  “Is that so,” he responded dryly. “Then I guess they will need to get the kids first.”

  “And why should I do this?” He had her interest, but not her commitment, yet.

  “Civic Duty. There can be no heir, and The Queen is a festering disease upon the land. And I will give you five times her price to do this thing.”

  “Civic Duty is a curious subject, to my Guild. Greed is not a temptation to me, Viceroy. But you are right about The Queen.”

  “More than right. The King won’t get rid of her. She is a familial dead end, connected to that daemon. Both are going to die anyway, at the hand of the harbingers of the Chaos Bringer. And The Queen and her daemon’s actions will destroy The Kingdom long before he shows up, thanks to the proliferation of evil magic, especially among the youth.”

  “And they say you only pretend to be civic minded,” Karen said drolly.

  “Enough fooling around. The prophecy tells that luck and skill will keep the parents on course. Then there is the influence of that tribe of elves. The way things are going there will be one of two branches of outcomes:

  “The three will get careless and killed here while trying to find where the kids were taken. They will get the kids back, and someday come and kill the King and Queen. On that one, if the parents face The King and Queen alone, they are as good as dead. If the parents face The King and Queen with the kids, the thrones will be left vacant.”

  Karen interrupted him. “So the parent’s need to get the kids. Then be instructed in how to kill The King and Queen.” This should be best done while asleep, Karen thought, already planning.

  “Then you will do this?” His words betrayed his anxiety.

  “It will be difficult.”

  “I recommended you to The Queen. I know your work. Killing the one who… took your sister, and liberating her: that took skill and courage.”

  Karen wondered by what means and how much he knew about that incident from the last spring, nearly eight months prior. 

097 – Karen Starts Investigating

The Viceroy continued. “That tells me you are good. And I remember your father, Oleg. He was as good at his work as you, but a pain in the…”

  Karen interrupted again, partly to salve an old wound. “His daughter is much better.”

  “Good,” the Viceroy responded. “That is what I wanted to hear.”

  He snapped his fingers, loudly, and his man entered. The man put down a parchment and a bag, and departed.

  Karen read over the contract, and was surprised at it.

  “No sense going halfway,” he responded to her look. “Your job is to join with the parents and mage. Take them to where the kids are, and get them. Teach the family how to kill The King and Queen, and her daemon. Be sure that they are able to. Remove the mage, and deliver the family into the hands of my troops.”

  “Simple enough. Where are the kids?”

  “The girl is in Chigoria, a village of the Chithare elves. The boy is in the talent’s village of Kadomu.”

  “Anything special that they need to be taught?”

  “The Queen is magically bound to the daemon. The daemon needs to be driven away before The Queen can be killed. But only the daughter can kill The Queen. The King can only be killed by the son.”

  “I think I can figure the rest. This is going to cost, though. And I will not go into any caves. Five times The Queen’s fee, you say?”

  “Or more, depending on my satisfaction.”

  “Do you think that is enough?” Karen wanted to be sure of his motivation. His reputation was of being a good leader and loyal, concerned about those he had charge of. And when all else failed, he got by with brute competence. What he had said about The King and Queen needing replacement was correct. The Queen being the real problem.

  “Instigators of a coup, and traitors, get paid more than patriots.”

  “Which do you think I am?”

  They sat quietly for a moment, looking at each other. A smile lurked at the corners of his face.

  Karen broke the silence. “Have your men ready. But they will wait until I give the signal that the family is ready. If they come too soon, they will have to face me.”

  “They will be instructed.”

  Karen signed the contract. The Viceroy rolled his copy of the parchment and pocketed it, left his payment for his drink, and contract, and departed.

  Karen had never taken a counter contract before. It was generally against guild rules, and ethics. But in the case of this job, it wasn’t so much a reversal of the original contract, as a modification, and minor extension of terms. The Queen wanted the parents delivered, and the wizard killed. She could do that. The Viceroy wanted the family taught what was needed to do to kill The King and Queen. She could do that, thought she needed a bit of research first. Whatever happened after that was none of her concern. And what about patriotism?

  Karen had heard rumors about The Queen for much of her adult life. Now she was tasked with killing her, via these half-elves of prophecy. So first she needed to learn of the specific prophecy, in its entirety. Problem was the prophet had been killed, executed at the order of The Queen. So next was the official record. That was not public knowledge. But The Guild had a copy.

  It was a routine exercise for guild members to sneak into the palace and copy parts of the court's records. One summer, the guild and guards had made such a commotion about it that an open brawl had occurred on four different occasions. The guild had compassion in the fights, and none of the guards lived to face punishment. They would have been executed anyway. The guild just did a quicker, cleaner job.

  At any rate, this evening Karen went to the Guild Hall, and to the library. This only cost her two bruises. She quickly found what she wanted and copied the passage. The language was prophetically clear, for Karen’s exposure to prophets and scripture. Point blank, the prophet said that the Harbingers of the Chaos Bringer would kill this king and queen. Male for male, female for female. And this would happen before the Chaos Bringer came into mortality. Annotated to this was all that was known about this Chaos Bringer, including a copy of the original prophecy about that person. Karen read and copied all this, then went back to her primary residence.

  This did not answer the question of how, but it did tell for sure who; just as the Viceroy’s contract stated. So she needed to learn about The King and Queen, and how to get some children to kill them. That meant a trip into the palace. While the guild kept tabs on how to kill everybody of note in the area, they had to update this regularly, and that meant surveillance. Karen had kept her extra senses suppressed when she went in to receive her contract. But her eyes and ears had told her much. Her best target would be among the bodyguards of each monarch. The longer lasted the better. So she got her costume together, and went down to the river: it was going to be a cold swim.

  The Palace sat on a large island. The guild found the easiest approach was from the Garmad river side of the fortress. But to get there meant starting upstream, swimming the river, and fighting the current to the fortress wall. At that point the choice was four easy ways, and one hard way into the fortress. The hard one was the only one not guarded regularly.

  Karen swam across the river carefully, avoiding the eddy currents while also not making any big splashes. She had to concentrate some to stay warm, as her clothes waterlogged and started to drag her down. She got around the fortress wall to the down-river side, and began counting bricks. On twenty one from the corner, she dove down and to the grate. Pulling herself down it, against the current coming out of it, she found the hole at the bottom and went in. She had to pull herself against the current in the tunnel. Along the way, Karen’s air began to give out, and the tunnel began to collapse on her, as panic looked for a way into her concentration. The current lessened and the water was warmer, and the tunnel ended as Karen got to the end of her air. She got her feet under her, and pushed up. She quickly surfaced. The air was a bit foul, the water dirty. The chamber was a final mixing point for water from the river and fortress sewage. She could track up the sewage lines and get to many of the secured areas of the palace, but Karen did not want to risk any further encounters with claustrophobia. She got over to the one walkway in the room, used by the service sector to keep the place running. Karen pulled herself out, stood on the stone and concentrated.

  She focused her mind on pushing all the water out of her costume; her balaclava, canvas jacket and trousers, the cloth pieces under those, and out of her socks and out of her low boots. The rolled up cape wrapped around her waist took a bit longer to wring dry, but it was before she left. The water ran down her and off leaving a puddle. Her leather components retained a little water but were all but dry to the touch. As she left the puddle she shook the last drops from her boots, leaving no foot prints.

  Karen quickly made her way out of the utility area and up to the garrison barracks. She listened carefully the whole way with all her senses. The hard part was looking like a shadow on the wall for the few guards standing watch. She simply paced the patrolling ones. Finally she got to the barracks, and found where The Queen’s personal guard stayed. She had to wait for the right moment, but was able to cleanly slip into the bedchamber of the second in command. Unmarried, he was wrapped around a harlot on his bed.

  Karen moved around the bedchamber, a cat would be noisier. First she reached for the harlots head, and gave her a quick scan, confirming her asleep. Then a psionic push to deeper sleep. No sense having her disturb this. Karen then put her attention on the guardsman. She touched his mind. He dreamed of this harlot. Karen took a soft hold of his thoughts, and put the idea of The Queen in the harlots place.

100 – Extraction and Debrief

Karen crept back out to the garrison, and headed back the way she came. At the maintenance room, she encountered a familiar tingle in her senses. The psionic that had been in The Queen’s Audience Chamber was in the water room. For a brief moment, Karen thought of going another direction.

Would confronting this psionic spoil her assignment? Would not? Karen guessed that the tree had alerted this other psionic, after it sensed her. So, not confronting would spoil things. This left one course: swift victory and departure.

Karen crept into the room. The psionic was examining the puddle she had left when she had wrung the water out of her outfit. So intent was the examination that the psionic failed to notice her presence. Karen lunged along the walkway, leaped into the person, and carried that person with her into the water flowing out of the room. The other person had turned and stood as she came and lunged. It was a male Chithare elf. One of the local subterranean elves, commonly called a black elf for their skin color, as opposed to the blue elves who mostly lived to the north. As she carried him into the water and crashed against the outer wall, Karen felt the elf smack hard against it, then again against the lip of the outflow tunnel knocking him senseless. The chilly current swept them into the outflow tunnel. Karen did a quick scan, and found the elf was out cold, and bleeding from his head. The water carried them the terrifying distance out to the catch screen. They slammed against it hard, the elf’s body struggling to breathe the cold dirty water. Karen’s panic proofing lessons paying off as she felt the tunnel beginning to collapse around her.

She assessed the elf as already drowning, so not needing any additional effort from her. Karen left him unconscious, pinned to the grate by the current, and pulled her way down to the hole and let it spit her out and away from the fortress, down stream. The elf would drown by the time she got out of the water. Clear of the tunnel, her claustrophobia stopped threatening to push her into panic, and she was able to marshal her remaining air to get a good distance away.

She stayed underwater for as long as the air in her lungs and the biting temperature would allow, before heading for the surface. She looked around and scanned, checking for pursuit and witnesses. Sensing and seeing none, she swam north for the wall to her right and along it to a storm drain hole. She got on the lip of this, and climbed out of the river. She psionically warmed her body, again pushing all the cold water from her costume.

To her left was a narrow stair built into the wall. Some of the river traffic used points like this as points to tie to during the day. The city cleaners used these to get into the sewer system to service it. Karen had explored all she could stand to of the sewers. Every time she got where she could not see the exit, or feel fresh air, she began to panic. As such she avoided using this system, unlike some others from her guild. Instead she preferred the roof tops, and shadows of buildings.

Karen carefully moved up the stairs. As she went she untied her cape from her waist and unrolled it. She first put it on dark side out. Then she pulled her balaclava off, fluffed her hair a bit, then pulled the cape’s hood over her hair. She looked around the concourse that ran along the east and west riverbank. There were constables off that way, and other street and night people over the other, but none looking this way. Karen shrouded herself, and set off north across the street, and into the shadows of the building. She moved quickly for several blocks, before ducking into another alley. This was the edge of the upper class areas.

In the darkness of the alley, Karen took her cape off, and opened the seam between the hood and cape, reached in, and pulled the cape insides out. It now showed the dark red velvet of a woman of means. She resettled the cape over her shoulders and started off into the streets of the district. She moved quietly along the main avenue to a tributary street, and turned up it. Nobody was out at this hour in this area of Skarg, and anybody that was, was generally left alone. She got to the street she wanted and turned onto it. As she walked, Karen formulated her report on what she had learned. It would not be turned in until her job was completed. But many assassins kept journals, at least of target information, in case anybody needed to follow in their path, and complete a botched job.

The structures in this area were the town houses of the wealthy merchant class, and the lower level gentry. Most of the houses were four or five stories with impressive facades and wings to the back, with closed balconies for privacy. They stood very close together, with only space for a carriage to slip between. Several had walls or fences around small front or side yards.  The constables patrolled this area regularly, but unless noise or weapons were in evidence, they would not bother people. Two constables on routine patrol did fall discreetly into step several houses away from Karen, after rounding the corner behind her. She went several houses along, to one with a small yard in front of it with a low wall and tall iron fence.

Two stone pillars flanked the gate, with a wrought iron arch above it; a decorative filigree of iron work vines filled the arch. A carved lion sat on either pillar looking down on whoever entered; the right hand one had a cub under its paw, the left hand lion had an orb. Karen opened the gate, closed it behind her, and went across the yard. The scents of winter wafted past as she climbed the stone stairs. Two more lions flanked the base of the stairs, and another set the porch; each set was increasingly intricate and ornate in its decoration the closer one got to the house. She pulled the bell pull by the double doors and waited. The constables walked on down the street, on the opposite side from her. They were two houses beyond when she saw a light through the windows coming to the doors. A small panel in the left hand door opened from within.

“May I help you?” An older male voice spoke from within.

“It’s Lady Konsalva. Let me in.”

“One moment please, my lady.” The panel closed.

After a moment, the door clicked as the latch was released and it swung in. The house keeper closed the door behind Karen as she entered.

“Welcome home, my lady. What may I do for you?”

Karen turned to the old man. “Nothing tonight. I will eat and tend to business when I get up.”

He bowed, and took the candlestick with him into the bowels of the house to his quarters, leaving Karen in the dark.

Older than her father, Jasper served the family since Karen’s grandfather hired him.

At that time the family was an up-and-coming merchant family. But a series of quarrels had led to Karen’s father Oleg, the third son, pursuing a second career as an assassin. The older brothers were murdered before they could start families. Of the two sisters, one had been brutalized and found floating in the river. The other had been kidnapped, cut open and her womb removed. She later lost her life while getting revenge on the group that mutilated her. That event ended most of the overt quarreling. Oleg had seen to the rest. Jasper watched it all. His only comment on the whole affair was that Oleg had unfortunately left no sons to carry the family name.

Now Jasper and his wife kept the house. Karen kept no secrets from Jasper. Karen had been taken into the guild and raised in their houses as soon as she could walk. Most of her childhood was spent outside of Skarg. Karen was raised with her older sister, and learned all the skills of her father, eventually surpassing him.

One time her older sister had gone on a trip with their mother, and was nearly killed in the attack that killed their mother. Oleg’s only overt comment on the subject was that his wife had acquitted herself well, killing all who attacked her. Covertly he mourned her greatly.

Karen’s sister, however, had an utter lack of stomach and skill for anything the guild had to teach. She could handle herself well enough. But she was loath to even slaughter dinner. She did excel in business and management. Karen helped her sister set up and improve upon the family businesses she now used to take care of her public means. This included four taverns; one which had a brothel attached to it, two that had inns. Also shares in two major and a handful of minor land and sea shipping groups. Finally the two merchant shops their grandfather had started with his brothers, which Oleg had inherited. In all the quarrels, Karen and her sister had been the only ones left alive. No cousins of any close relation. Then her sister had been attacked and killed.

After cleaning that up, Karen continued the businesses. And she used the taverns and related businesses to help facilitate her primary career. The result was that she only came home once in a while, spending most nights at one of the taverns or inns.

Growing up, she had many bittersweet memories of the house. Sometimes they were more than she could bare, and she would avoid the reminder of family. Other times she needed to rest, and let the world alone. She would come here and forget anything beyond the walls of the yard. Oleg had made a point of never bringing work home with him. Karen had followed that example. Unlike her other properties, no blood or poison had ever stained the floors of the house.

Karen crossed the foyer, and went up stairs. The first floor had the kitchen with an informal dining area, Jasper’s quarters with his wife, a receiving room and the foyer. A mud room at the back exited to the coach yard and shed, and a privy. The second floor had the parlor, drawing room, library, study, and formal dining room. Isolated where it would be unobtrusive was a rare indoor privy with a flush and pump mechanism. The third floor had two guest suites and the ball room, which was just as often an exercise and training room. There was also a small balcony off the ballroom. On the forth floor floor were the resident bedrooms and one medium sized bathing room, the tub fed from a roof top tank heated by the central chimney. The pitched roof covered the attic storage space, save for where the water tank rested. Water from the tank was primarily by precipitation, collected from the roof; there was a wind driven pump that tapped the local aquifer that also kept the tank topped off with relatively fresh clean water.

Karen sold some of the furniture that her family had collected. She had little sentimental attachment to most of it. In some cases, she sold it because it had too much sentiment. The few pieces she kept were of specific value. Her grandmother's and her mother’s chests were in her bedroom. A bureau that a great-uncle made by hand stood between the chests. Her father’s desk and chair were still in the study. Hidden behind some of the book shelves in the study was most of Oleg’s armory.  The canopy bed that her grandparents had used was in her private room at one of the inns. Jasper and his wife had taken implicit possession of many of the other things. The china, silver, and crystal were all still in the kitchen, or down in the pantry. Some of the other finer furniture was still about the house, where they had always been. Other pieces had been replaced by Jasper’s wife. As time passed, the house gradually took on more of their character, and Karen felt more alien to it.

101 – Karen continues debriefing, The trio enters Skarg

  She entered her bed room, leaving the door open behind her. She crossed the vaguely musty room to the double doors to the small private balcony, and opened these to their stops, feeling them latch open. Even for winter it was warm out, and the room needed the air if she was going to be staying in it. She lit the fire in the fireplace, feeling the air in the vents that were through out the house circulate warmer.

  Karen turned to her closet and divested herself of her equipment and costume. The equipment and harness onto her grandmother’s chest. The rest was draped onto a chair, to be dealt with later.  The cape went on a hanger.

  Karen's leather harness and girdle had a knife hung hilt down from the left suspender, a pair of interchangeable leather pouches from the front of the girdle, and her primary weapons at her hips from the sides of the girdle. There were points around the whole where she could attach other equipment at need. Shoulder pauldrons were attached to the suspenders, and rerebrace pads fastened to these, and had straps that went around her arms to prevent them from flapping about.

  A pair of hard leather vambraces covered her forearms, the left side had a sheathed stiletto on its inside, the right a broader cutting knife, the handles arranged where she could cross draw both at the same time. Karen then removed her elbow and knee pads, putting each piece on the chest as she removed it. Occasionally she wore hard leather grieves, but only when she was expecting a lot of trouble; otherwise she left these aside for mobility.

  Her trousers had a drawstring waist, with gussets at the lower leg, as well as a billows seam at the crotch. Lining the interior of the legs were several pouches and pockets for assorted weapons and tools accessible through slits in the trousers, in addition to the normal cargo pockets and hip pockets. The seat was triple reinforced, right through the bellows seam, as also the knees. If she needed to splint her legs, she carried enough stiff things in the trousers to act as splints.

  When she wore her long boots, these covered the lower gussets and up to just below her knees; if she wore short boots, as she did this night, these only came above her ankles.

  Her jacket was cut bulky around her torso, with a draw cord at the waist, and buttons on the wide double breast all the way up. The shoulders and upper arms were loose with gussets on the forearms. Fingerless leather gauntlets protected her hands and forearms. Several more pockets and sheaths were arrayed on the interior of the jacket. The inside is the equivalent of a load bearing vest, which attached to her trousers. She chose a cloth as durable as some tent fabrics.

  Next was an insulating layer against the cold. Compared to her specialized equipment, these linen long-johns were of the usual design and construction, dyed a dark gray.

  Karen wore a bodysuit as underwear. It was of leather for support and protection, and fabric to move and breathe. The leather segments protected her ribs, trunk, and groin. It had short sleeves with some leather on the shoulders on her arms and went to her knees with thigh and hip pads below. She wore this under her business suit, or most any suit, as she felt the circumstances would require.

  As the weather or social circumstance required, she wore a cape over top of all as needed. She also carried a slim backpack with her extra sundries, as needed. She carried many knives, but no tiger claws or leg climbers as she did not need them. Two blow tubes with needles, a garrote and several assorted lengths of cord, several vials and pouches of chemicals, all were in appropriate jacket or trouser pockets, as was some black makeup. Her first aid and sewing kits were among the contents of the pouches on her girdle. Winter gloves that fit over her gauntlets were kept though not yet in use. Assorted bits of money were in a pouch in her belt. Depending on the weather, Karen used a scarf or balaclava to cover her face.

  Her favorite weapons to use was a pair of sai’s, carried on either hip, though sometimes she carried a short sword across her back attached horizontal to the girdle. Professionally Karen usually killed with a knife, most often her stiletto. She was trained to use most anything, being taught the fundamentals of every weapon the guild could teach. She was not an archer, but she could use most any bow, and occasionally carried one with the quiver attached to her back. She could use pole-arm's, staves, swords, and blunt weapons. She was not an alchemist, but did know poisons, and antidotes, as well as many herbs and other pharmacological stuff. She could sew, and sneak, pick locks, and kill.

  As Karen undressed, she made a list to herself of maintenance issues; the harness would need to be oiled, the metal buckles and equipment cleaned and inspected for rust. The tunic and trousers would need washing. Last all the leather would need oiling, the individual pieces and the body suit. Her underwear went on the top of the pile. It was all still a slight bit damp. She put on fresh underwear from the bureau, and a nightgown from the closet.

  Karen closed the doors leaving one slightly open, and moved to her bed. Set into a dais, it was a good sized pit lined with black fur and a few blankets, and very soft. She sat in the middle of it, her legs folded and her hands on her knees, palms up. Karen then began to focus her attention down to just her breathing. As she did, her mind stilled from the excitement of the evening, and the chill of the river and season left her body.

  Karen woke up, warm and comfortable, wrapped in a favorite blanket. At some point she had stretched out and pulled the blanket over her. But she could not clearly remember when. The light in the room told her it was approaching midday. The morning breeze had cooled things nicely. Now it was beginning to warm.

  Karen returned to the sitting position from the previous night, and worked to bring her memory to clear recall. She then got up, got a lap desk, her journal, a stylus, and an ink well. She also picked up her waterproof case, which was in one of her girdle pouches, with the papers that she had copied from the official records. She sat back down, and wrote in the journal all that she had read and learned. This she followed with her conclusions. She closed the book, putting the papers in the book next to the entry. This took some time, and then she was ready to proceed with the day with a meal and a bath.

  As she tended to the activities of the day, her mind worked over what she had learned, and what she was going to do to accomplish her task. The first thing she needed to do was find the parents and the wizard. People as tall as the parents were figured to be would be easy to spot in a crowd, if you can find the right crowd.

  So, how to find the right crowd?

  Caspian and the Caplan’s traveled along a road toward Skarg. It had become increasingly busy as they moved from the rural to the suburban, and finally the urban.

  Caspian had done a good job in teleporting them into the area. They had landed near the disk at the Wizard’s villa, and then traveled through the woods in the area for a short part of the day, before finding the road, and getting proper directions to Skarg. The horses and mules were quite stirred up and skittish after being teleported. The change from summer to winter did not help, as the animals quickly chilled under their summer coats. It was all that could be done to lead them for a few hours, without the animals taking fright at every rock and root, or just standing and shivering

  After a few day’s travel, they now traveled southwest on a main highway approached the tax and duty station on the northeast  outskirts of the metropolis.

  Much discussion had passed on how to get into the city, without causing commotion about Steven’s size and Roxanne’s appearance. The decision was to simply put on the ubiquitous cloaks over their costumes, get a cart to ride in, and let Caspian do the talking. Rox and Steven had enough Traders Cant to pass as northern traders, by language. Their size on the other hand . . .

  At a passing farm, Caspian had acquired a cart, with a pair of draft ponies, trading the three horses and two mules. Caspian had carefully selected other boxes and bags of stuff from two markets along the way. Steven had asked about where Caspian got the money for this, to which Caspian gave a noncommittal answer.

  Steven and Rox now sat in the box of the wagon with the cargo, their gear wrapped up in some cargo bags. Caspian’s staff was under his feet on the driver’s bench. Cyrril was somewhere nearby. It was not quite cold enough to see their breath in the day, but it did cool down in the evening.

  Roxanne asked about the language, as she and Steven did not understand the local language. Caspian was non committal, mentioning that in a free moment, he would magic it into their heads for them. Steven though this would be amusing, to mark yet another permanent new language for the trip.

  Now Caspian pulled the cart to a stop as the gate keepers motioned him to. The keepers were quickly inspecting each wagon as they entered, and checking invoices as available. As Steven watched and listened he saw the gate keeper respond with some slight pause to Caspian’s accent, and use of what Steven gathered was a local trader’s dialect, instead of the local language. But the gate keeper dismissed it, as his two helpers looked quickly over the cart and the goods in it. Rox and Steven's gear bags were looked through, with their weapons ends hanging out of them, but little other fuss was made. Evidently things were acceptable. After a moment with a requisition, Caspian paid a sum, and was waved on.

  The ponies pulled them into the city, and toward a market area. Along the way, Steven and Rox pulled their personal gear bags out, and climbed out of the cart. They had arranged for the Caplan's to find a place to stay, and meet Caspian after he had sold his goods.

  Steven led out, with the crowd parting minimally as they moved through it. They surveyed the inns for part of the area, and selected one. Using the traders language from the north, they got two rooms, and went up to put their stuff away. After securing things, they went back out to find Caspian. Cyrril found them as they moved down the street, and shortly Caspian showed up. He reported that he had parked the cart, and stabled the ponies.

  Steven led them back to the inn, and showed Caspian the room they had got for him. It was not as fancy as what the elves provided, but it had a window and all else it needed in this climate and setting. Caspian, like the Caplan's had done previously, was able to divest himself of his travel gear and lighten his load.

  The trio went out and spent the remainder of the afternoon getting acclimated to the local neighborhood and learning the landmarks. The inn Steven had selected was connected to a corner tavern with a open-air café occupying the bulk its part of the corner, the main tavern to one side the inn to the other. The area looked to cater to travelers and traders.

102 – Skarg: Assets And Liabilities

The structures averaged three stories tall, with the first level being mostly stonework walls, and the second and above usually being wood frames with stucco walls, with shuttered windows. Some structures had stonework second levels, and some were as much as five levels to the roofs. Most roofs looked to be nearly flat, or having dormers and an attic taking advantage of the last bit of structure.

The main roads were wide enough to turn a harnessed team around at the intersections. The secondary roads would take the larger freight wagons two abreast with space to spare, and the alleys were mostly wide enough for the little single pony carts.

As for carts, there was more animal and cart traffic than anywhere the Caplan's had seen. Small goods carts with a single animal, medium sized flatbed wagons with a team in traces, large low slung freight wagons with two or more teams in yoke; and there were people-moving carts and carriages of every description and size. There were also a significant number of riders on single animals, and some leading strings of animals. The majority of animals were horses, but there were some cattle and other animals in evidence, including some that Steven would classify as related to llama's.

The road surfaces were cobbled with worn brick of some kind, and all sloped to the middle, with occasional metal grates. The sidewalks were wide enough for pedestrian traffic to pass without having to step in the animals exhaust before it got cleaned up.

As they got oriented the crowds of locals and traders began to make sense in their flow. Finally after seeing where the cart and ponies were being boarded, and passing two different markets that each had wagon trains in winter residence, they worked their way back to the inn, and dinner.

They took a table in the open air market and watched as the crowd went past, and the evening chill slowed the city a little. As they talked, Steven suggested that should they all get separated, the place to get back together was the tavern across the street.

Steven explained when Caspian challenged his reasoning.

“Well, for one it's inside, therefore warm. Also it reduces the visibility of people to outside observers. It's not where we are staying, so if there is someone following they will not immediately be led to the rest of our things. It looks to be as large as this one, including both the café and the tavern.”

Caspian listened, nodding. “That all makes sense. Also it had a visible sign that you can describe: a bird in a cauldron. And it is at the corner of a major and a secondary road.”

Rox interjected. “I'd call it a pot, but still . . .”

Caspian did not worry about this. “I guess we are agreed, then. If separated, meet back there for or by the next meal. If two meals are missed, then we will start looking for each other.”

That evening back in the Caplan's room, they looked over the three sets of trackers they now have. The set that Caspian made in the woods had expired while in Veradale. The set he had made there worked up until the day or so before leaving Shalaia. Near as Caspian could tell, they were still working, but being blocked, somehow. An elf Magic Master, not Master Iver, had made a set with hair from each child brought fresh from earth, but had said this set would not be ready for another day or so, to allow a week for the amulets to cure and the magic to set.

Roxanne looked at the sets. One rough made set having no mana about it, this being the set from the woods; one finer set having mana but not showing anything but a swirl, this being the set made in Veradale; one set that looked jewel crafted that showed a growing organization of mana, this set being from Shalaia. “So, what do we do?”

Steven answered first. “We can either wait and see, or go start asking around. I saw what I took to be a town crier hanging a bill like this on a message board. I can’t read it, but it looks like some kind of festivities notice.”

Steven handed the handbill to Caspian. It took Caspian a moment to decipher the hand writing and then the alphabet, but after several moments he read a notice for a citywide day of celebration being thrown by The King and Queen, in celebration of a vanquished enemy. Adjoining this would be a ball held in the palace. Those suitably dressed would be allowed entrance to the palace grounds, and to the ball and banquet there. Caspian read it over again to himself. Then looked at the Caplan’s.

“This is too convenient.” Caspian commented.

“Step into my web, said the spider to the fly.” Steven responded.

Caspian did not understand the specifics, but guessed that he did understand the generals. “Yeah. It’s too convenient. Or it may just be a coincidence. The only way to find out for sure is to attend. And we may overhear a few loose lips and learn the information we need.”

“How soon is it?” Rox asked.

Caspian looked the bill over again. “Three days.”

Rox though about this. “Well, the tailors are going to be busy, if this city is like Veradale or Hollywood, and aristocrats and celebrities are the same here as back home.”

Steven nodded. “New gowns.”

“And suits,” Rox added.

Caspian nodded, beginning to track across their train of thought, with his own. “So, do we go listen in the tailors and clothes sellers in the garment sections?”

Rox nodded. “Sure. And also see what the going fashions are and what we might do about it.”

Karen saw the bulletin, and grimaced. Since her sister died, Karen had eschewed going to any party. Those people she knew personally would undoubtedly bring up one of two subjects, both of which hurt to discuss; her sister, and her own lack of husband. As she had been socially inactive since the last spring, Karen did not have an in-season gown. So she could either wear one of last years, or go get a new one, and count it as expenses.

Karen did not doubt that this party might be a lure to try to attract the parents of the children who had been paraded through the streets a week or so prior. The uncertainty was whether they were in the area. On the other hand, it might be the King throwing a party to celebrate. It was doubtful the queen would be in attendance, as she had disappeared socially near twenty years ago, at the time of her change.

As Karen though about this, she wondered whether it was so uncertain that the ball was a trap. Magic users could make trackers tuned to individuals. That was part of why assassins did their best never to leave any traces. It was therefore possible that someone in the palace had one for the parents of the kids, and could therefore tell about where they were. Then it would be simple to draw then into vulnerability and kill or capture one, or both.

The more Karen thought about it, the more she felt she would have to go to the palace ball. So, in a new gown, or one from last season?

Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 133

Second day in Skarg. Our trackers aren’t working right now, so we need to ask around, and risk capture or worse.

I found a handbill about a party being thrown by the local Royals. Scuttlebutt says it has many purposes. One may be that our kids were here in this city the day we teleported into this kingdom from Shalaia. So we may be closer to them now than we have been since the first week on planet.

Caspian says he has again magically given us the local language. Today I will put this to the test, as we find and get fitted for local formals.

Caspian had done his language spell again, for all of them, as he did not really know the local dialect. For targets he had used as many locals as the spell could find, up to a dozen, while they slept. Steven and Rox both found their dreams again in a new language half way through the night.

The next morning, they began exploring the city in earnest. Caspian readily admitted that he had never been here before, and did not know his way any better than the Caplan’s did. Like the other cities they had been through, the various districts demarcated themselves by devices hung from the door signs and a few street lamps. Another thing that was in greater evidence here than the northern cities was an taxi type of service among the carriages. Rox hired one to take them to the tailor’s district, and then they set out to explore.

They spotted what the local city guards looked like, being in chain mail and leather tunics, with metal helmets. They carried billy clubs. There seemed to be one every forth block or so, on patrol singly or in pairs. The higher ranked ones carried swords and rode horses. Several stood guard were the road passed through an internal city wall, bottlenecking traffic briefly as it went. The tall thick wall appeared to once have been an external wall, that the city had long since expanded beyond. The locals decorated it accordingly, and several holes had been cut in it for the roads and sidewalks that now passed through.

The city was not crowded, but it was well populated, with plenty of people going about their business. The carts and carriages plied the roads, and pedestrians on the sidewalks. Steven felt the city looked like a variant design on some of the older pre-World War II Germanic and Swiss towns he had seen.

Rox wore the one gown she had brought with, with her girdle about her waist, one of her purses and knives on it, under her cloak. Steven had noticed that the men went about mostly armed, though with want looked at first glance to be costume swords. As a result he wore his girdle and sword under his cloak, but like Rox not his full travel kit. Caspian chose to go off on his own to ask around, and see what he could learn from any local magic users, but he found himself walking in the direction of the Caplan’s out of concern for their being in a strange and unfriendly place. He sent Cyrril out to look around for any local magic as he went.

Roxanne and Steven quickly found that their height worked both for and against them. They stood a head and a bit taller than virtually everyone, though looking over the men's unwashed hair was not very appealing. Most of the women wore bonnets, or some similar head covering. They could see each other easily enough. They walked together, she at his left. As they went, Rox looked in the windows of the various shops, and they listened as best they discretely could to the conversations around them. At the corners, they were propositioned by the street vendors, but like about two of three people just walked by.

What the Caplan’s did pick up from the conversation was that this was an unusual but not unheard of ball, as most Royal Balls were by invitation only. But at least one holiday a year was open to the public, with other occasional holiday balls open to the public. As well, much of the populous was not quite sure what this ball commemorated. They did happen to hear one society lady, a well fed woman who they guessed to be older than themselves, seamed to think it had to do with some military procession a week before. Another well fed woman disagreed and said it was about a new minister coming from a nearby kingdom, and bringing an eligible daughter with him to meet the locals; she was certainly going to have her son in attendance.

The Caplan’s moved on.