Chapter Fifty-Two

I want to thank all of my patrons, including:

Kido

Treant Balewood

Orchamus

Electric Heart

Aiden King

CrazySith87

Shadowsmage

Sammax

Angelic Knight

PreytorFenix

Pheonix14

Flanders

And my many other patrons! 

Thank you guys; without your help I could never write as much as I do!

Your group set out on three wagons, each one pulled by a metallic contraption that belches a dark acrid smoke that made the horses on the road whinny and whine. Crossing through the gates leading out of Five Peaks was easy. The guards looked at everyone, you included, and poked at the things carried in the wagons, but since that mostly amounted to a few books in a chest and some coal they didn’t make much of a fuss.

And so, just like that, you were let out of the city.

The outside of Five Peaks isn’t quite what you expect. There are less trees near the city and a lot more little ranches and farms fairly close to the road, with cows and chickens and other things that Abigail told you you couldn’t eat before you even asked.

“Is this going to take long?” you ask.

It’s not really uncomfortable. The bench is a little hard and the bouncing will make your butt sore at some point, but it’s not all bad. You’re squished in between Daphne and Abigail, right where Charlotte told you you should sit to act as chaperon. You don’t know what that means, but you suspect it’s a type of hat.

“I don’t know,” Abigail says. She’s taking in the sights too. You’re not moving fast enough to make your hair flutter with the wind or anything, but it’s a near thing. You’re certainly moving faster than Abigail and your friends would on foot, especially over the hilly terrain.

“We’re heading to a village called Twinforks, it’s about two days' walk, a day by carriage,” Daphne says. “We didn’t leave as early as we could have, so I suspect we might have to stay at an inn for the night.”

“The air is a lot fresher out here than in the city,” Charlotte says. “You don’t really notice the difference until you’re out of the walls.”

Abigail shrugs, then pulls her jacket on closer. “It’s a bit colder too. Nothing to break the wind.” She wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer. This is okay. You can be warm for Abigail, no problem. “I hope we don’t run into goblins or anything else.”

“No, goblins are territorial,” Charlotte says. “They don’t usually linger around roads that are travelled on frequently, not for long anyway, the city guard patrols for quite a ways out and each town has its own militia that would tear goblins apart if they blocked a road. Goblins are smart enough to avoid people.”

“Good,” Abigail says. “I’d really rather not get into any sort of trouble. Though you seem ready for it. Where did you get a sword?”

Charlotte smiles and unclips the sheath of her sword from her belt. She pulls the handle, revealing a few inches of shiny, sharp-looking steel. “This old thing? I wish I had an interesting story to go with it, but it’s just something I bought a while ago to keep safe. Hardly ever used it.”

She passes the sword over to Daphne who pulls it out completely and stares at it, obviously not sure of what to do now that she has it in hand. “It’s... pointy?” she says.

“Yes, yes it is,” Charlotte says before giggling. “Never had to play with a sword before?”

“No, I have guards for that,” Daphne says primly.

“Don’t have any here,” Charlotte says.

“That’s true,” Daphne agrees. She slides the sword back into its sheath and hands it to Abigail. Your summoner doesn’t seem to know what to do with it, so you carefully take it from her. You wouldn’t want her to get cut. “I do have these,” Daphne says as she lifts her skirt a little and pulls a small cylinder from a sort of belt around her thigh.

“Oh, can I see?” Abigail asks.

“The explosive or her legs?” Charlotte asks.

Daphne passes Abigail the cylindre and tugs her skirt down as if its on fire. Abigail studies it very carefully, her face flaming.

You, in the meantime, study the sword. Its very hard and sharp. Probably too hard to eat with your mortal teeth. A quick swipe with your hand across the blade has you dropping a few fingers on the ground.

Mortals certainly have interesting ways of defending themselves. You compare the sword to one of your combat tentacles and find the tentacle... wanting. A bit of focus has the tip of the tentacle sharpen, then it hardens and you form an edge just like the sword’s. A poke-y tentacle for poking holes in things without as much effort.

It can even cut things without rending the fabric of reality. Useful!

“What’s that?” you ask Abigail. This new weaponized tentacle will be fun to play with later, but maybe there are other mortal weapons you can copy.

“It’s a spell canister. The circle is folded in a tube, with each reagent in the centre separated by a thin layer of paper. They’re all powdered reagents, so they don’t get mixed,” Abigail explains as she carefully inspects the device. “See this at the top? It’s a time release circle. Fairly simple. You pour aether into it and it delays the time the aether takes to reach the main circle, when it does the circle activities and does... whatever it’s meant to do.”

“That one is a flash and burn,” Daphne says. “A bright burst of light and sound and heat. It’s meant as more of a deterrent against wild animals than anything else.”

“Hrm,” you say as you give Charlotte back her sword. You carefully take the bomb cylindre, give it a sniff, then toss it into your mouth. It’s nice! With a bunch of layers that all crunch differently and powders with different tastes. Some taste like fire, others like hot stuff. “It’s good.”

The girls stare at you, then Charlotte starts giggling, soon followed by the others. You don’t know why learning that the bomb tastes good would make them laugh, but you smile anyway because it’s a happy sound.

“Whoa!” comes a cry from ahead. Wheels squeal and the wagon jutters as you all slow down and come to a rapid stop.

A look ahead reveals why. There’s a tree laying across the street and blocking the path.

Skinner is up in a moment. “We need to move that, now!” he says, sounding rather panicked all of a sudden.

Then a bunch of people start moving out of the woods. Not goblins, not unless goblins are a sort of human. Bit, burly men with clubs and swords who look at the wagons and the girls with looks that you don’t like.

“Oh no,” Abigail says.

Charlotte is gripping her sword, Daphne has two bombs, one in each hand.

You wonder if this means that lunch will be delayed.