Dragon in Disguise

Starla stepped into the ring carefully, her guard up. One time Khastri had nailed her with his sword as soon as she entered the ring shouting “Expect everything!!!” He had never done it again, but Starla had never forgotten it. They circled each other slowly, never breaking eye contact, searching for weaknesses. Before Starla could find an opening Khastri flashed her a grin and leaped forward. His wooden sword flew towards her face. She dropped into a crouch and rolled backwards. When she came up her hands had a golden glow around them. ‘How does he make a wooden sword seem so freak’n terrifying?!’

“Come on, Starla,” he teased, “You’re not going to let me win again, are you?” She laughed. ‘and then he goes and says something like that.’

“I cant believe you got that good at the sword with banter like that!” she called.

“Insulting my intelligence? Hardly acceptable for a lady such as yourself, you know you’re supposed to be subtle!” She grinned and rapidly shot three bursts of light, leaving him blinded. Then she formed three thin spikes of ice and shot them at her cousin. Forming ice was one of the advantages of being an ice mage but took a high level of skill to do because it was taking water molecules from the air and turning them into ice directly. Even water mages couldn’t summon water from thin air.

Khastri heard the spikes coming, just like she knew he would, and raised his sword, shattering all three of them in one smooth motion. Then, with his eyes still closed, he rushed her with his sword raised. She quickly formed a thick ice blade in her hand and parried. With that they were locked in close combat. His sword had the advantage of long reach, but she could maneuver her ice blade much quicker because it was smaller. They darted in and out, their blades zipping and clashing against each other. Starla whirled left then right, avoiding Khastri’s weapon and trying to get in some hits of her own. She was vaguely aware of the soldiers watching, but the battle was too fast and intense for her to take much notice of it. She lunged towards Khastri with her ice blade, and he swung around, swinging his sword in a wide sweeping movement. She neatly ducked under it and popped back up almost as soon as it passed over her, her blade zooming to his neck. He flicked his sword back mid swing, and it knocked the ice blade from her hand.

“Nice try,” he said, “You almost got me.” She frowned.

“Almost is still not enough.”

“Wow, that sounded kinda depressing.” Starla rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t mean it in a depressing way, I was just stating a fact.” They had separated and stopped fighting at this point. Starla was breathing heavily, and Khastri hadn’t even broken a sweat. She would have been sweating, but she was already working her magic and the temperature around her lowered by a few degrees. The soldiers nodded with satisfaction, as they were used to Khastri and Starla sparring. Now it was nothing more than a source of entertainment for them. Khastri stretched and yawned.

“I guess this one ends in a tie. Or are we not done yet?”

“Yeah, we’re done. I’m not in the zone anymore.”

“You can’t wait to do battle against a real enemy until you’re ‘in the zone’.”

“Yeah, well real enemies can’t seriously injure someone with a wooden sword.” He tilted his head.

“I’m hurt you would even suggest I would do such a thing.”

“Sure, sure. Do you want to go again?” He frowned and shifted.

“I can’t, sorry. I have to go to some meeting about the upcoming elven ambassadors.” Starla winced. Visiting ambassadors could be fun, but the elven ambassadors took great pride in being difficult. At least that was what it felt like.

“Well, I don’t envy you that, planning for those guys is always a pain.” Khastri sighed dejectedly.

“Yes,” he complained, “And they even sent word that they wanted to discuss the Dark Lord and the threat he poses!”

“Oof. Well, at least they gave you a warning.” He moaned.

“Just lengthening the dread that I feel in anticipation.”

“Hm. I’m going to be in the library if you need me. Hang in there!” She was so glad she didn’t have to sit through that meeting.

…

Viren held his weapon over his shoulder as he surveyed his handy work. He nodded in approval. “Good job,” said a rasping voice over his other shoulder. “Would you like a cookie?” he turned to the sweet old granny behind him.

“Yes, that would be very nice,” he said politely. She smiled, revealing several missing teeth.

“You did such a good job cleaning the courtyard, it feels unfair to only be paying you three coin!”

“It was a pleasure, maam.” What had started as mercenary work had quickly unraveled into a variety of random odd jobs, like fixing a broken gutter or this one, cleaning a thrashed courtyard. Oh well, at least they paid. It had been five days since he had accepted the caravan job, and he had saved up a total of thirty-five coin. He had also been forced to shell out for a new jacket after a bunch of savage dogs ripped up his old one. He was never taking a job herding crazy dogs ever again, no matter how well it paid.

After putting the cleaning supplies the lady had provided him with away and getting paid, Viren wandered off into the city in search of more work with a fresh, gooey cookie in his mouth. ‘I should take more jobs with old people. Or maybe I can find a baker in need of some help.’ Free lunch would be nice.

Unfortunately, Viren couldn’t find any more jobs that day. Edgedale was a rather bad place to be a mercenary, and it seemed like he had already done every odd job available in the city. All the better that he was leaving with the caravan in two days.

…

Two days later, Viren was sitting in the main room of the inn, waiting for Nevron. He opted not to order breakfast and had instead eaten some of his rations. Soon the merchant walked through the door, his eyes scanning the room. Rather than wait for Nevron to notice him, Viren stood up and walked towards him. When he got close, Nevron spoke. “We’re leaving now. Do you need to get your things?” Viren patted his bag.

“Nope. Got everything I need right here.” His dagger was hidden on his person, and his sword was belted on his waist. Nevron eyed his small bag.

“Alright then. Follow me, our caravan is right outside the city.”

He and Viren left the inn and walked through the city. They left through the northern entrance and walked for a few minutes into the fields. “Here’s out caravan. Its quite large, and we already have three other guards.” The caravan had 27 wagons and trailers, all of them painted in red, yellow, green, and blue. They were arranged in a big circle and in the middle were several unlit campfires and a lot of people milling about. There was also a group of horses in the middle of the circle.

“Impressive.” Nevron nodded.

“Yes,” he said, “Now come on, I need to take you to meet my father, the leader of the Thendall caravan.” They walked through the circle and stopped in front of a relatively large trailer. It was painted red with some yellow accents and had a yellow door. Nevron knocked, and a voice came from inside.

“Come in.” He opened the door and walked inside, beckoning for Viren to follow. The inside of the trailer was lit by a lamp. It had bunk beds built into the wall and cabinets also built into another wall. There were a few trunks tied down, and a small desk. At the desk sat a man who looked a bit like Nevron, but his features were rounder. His eyes were sharp and predatory. Viren could almost sense him trying to figure out how to sell him something for a ridiculous amount of coin. ‘I’ll need to keep my coin purse closed around this one.’ Nevron smiled, and his father smiled back to him, giving him a much softer look.

“This is the new guard I hired,” he said. Nevron’s father looked him up and down.

“He looks rather young.” He addressed Viren. “What is your name, and do you have any experience?” Viren cleared his throat.

“My name is Viren, sir. I don’t have any experience guarding a caravan, but I can fight well, and wont require anything other than what you have hired me for.”

“Very well. Nevron has already explained to me the terms of what we will be paying you. My name is Taron, but you can address me as sir. Welcome to the Thendall caravan, Viren.”

…

Nevron led Viren out of the trailer. They descended the steps, and Nevron stopped. “I am going to leave now, but over there is the other guards.” He pointed to three people. “I guess… bye.” He turned and left. Viren watched him go. Then he started walking to where the other guards were. ‘I guess I should see what being a caravan guard is all about.’ He approached the three men.

“So, this is the new hire?” The one that spoke was dressed in plain clothes, but had a broadsword slung across his back and an eyepatch with a winding scar peeking out from below it. The second was dressed in leather and a chainmail tunic. He had a short sword on his belt and greying hair and looked to be the oldest of the three. The third was bald, had dark skin, and two small axes crossed on his back.

“Looks like it,” the older one said. “What’s your name?”

“And how old are you, for that matter,” the one with the battle axes chimed in.

“My name is Viren.” He ignored the question about his age. “What are your names?”

The old one spoke first. “My name is Valor.”

“You can call me Darmer,” the one with the eyepatch said. The third one spoke last.

“I am Thorn.”

“Alright. What are we supposed to do here?” Valor answered Viren’s question.

“Well, obviously we guard against bandit attacks, but we also break up any fights that happen between merchants and keep dissatisfied customers from acting out. In order to better protect the caravan, we divvy out jobs such as scouting and patrolling up and down the caravan line.” The other two nodded.

“Speaking of which,” Thorn said, “We need to redistribute the jobs now that we have a new guy.”

“Simple enough.” Darmer crossed his arms lazily. “Valor and Viren scout today when the caravan starts, and me and Thorn patrol the line. We switch every day.” They fell into silence. Thorn sat down and started sharpening his axes. The rest of sat down as well, and Valor passed some jerky around. Viren observed the caravan, familiarizing himself with the people, wagons, and animals.

Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, presumably preparing to start the caravan train. A couple of people were preparing the horses, and everywhere he looked there were merchants and their staff closing trunks, tying bundles, and loading their wares into wagons and trailers. As he watched, Taron exited his trailer and gave some orders to his staff. A few other merchants rushed up to him and started talking. Everyone treated him with respect. It was clear who the owner of this caravan was.

Merchant caravans were a bit different than, say, gypsy caravans, which had no solid leader and tended to just wander around wherever, going with the flow. Merchant caravans always had an owner, who started and managed the caravan. They required a tax for traveling with the caravan, and in exchange provided protection and almost guaranteed profit. Caravan leaders tended to be successful merchants who had a lot of contacts and a good reputation, so anyone traveling in their caravan would be bound to sell something. Viren hadn’t heard of the Thendall caravan before, but then again, he didn’t know of any caravans, so the Thendall caravan was probably well known and very successful, based on the well maintained and probably expensive wagons and trailers. With the way Taron acted and held himself it would be more surprising if he wasn’t successful.

Soon all the goods were loaded up and the horses were being hooked up to the trailers and wagons. The other three guards stood up and stretched. “Looks like its time to start,” Darmer said. After he said that Taron gave a command and one of his employees started his trailer. It slowly began moving, with the others starting to move behind it. There was a little bit of shouting between wagons, but other than that the start was seamless. Soon the caravan was stretched out in a long line and starting to pick up speed. It was slow enough that people could still keep up with it on foot, and many people walked beside their wagon or with friends.

“Alright,” said Valor. “Time to assign tasks. Me and Viren will scout ahead of the caravan, and you two can patrol along it.” Thorn and Darmer nodded. Thorn began walking to the end of the caravan, and Darmer gave a mock salute to Valor before heading to the front. “Ok new guy,” Valor said once the others left. “Let’s get to work.”