Steppe

Fulcer stared out at The Southern Gate, gazing at the distant hills that peaked over the horizon. Unlike the other walls which were held by soldiery of Corvidrop, the south wall and gate were manned by adventurers of all variety. Some carried grand weapons and towering shields. Others had more delicate tools and thinner armor. Archers and crossbowmen lined the parapets, standing side by side with hooded wizards and clerics of religions Fulcher could not identify. No two adventurers looked the same. Some had old rusted hand-me-down armor and others wore gleaming silvers and sparkling gold. Chips, dents and scratches were as common in their gear as magical runes or enchantments.

The Southern Gate was also more boisterous than the others. Reminding Fulcer of a Renaissance festival, pitched tents and carts dotted the grasslands just outside the gate. This part of the walled city seemed to be some kind of miniature entertainment district with taverns, market stalls and smiths. A large, centralized hall facing The Southern Gate stood higher than the other buildings, some kind of adventurer's guild.

It's almost like they have their own town inside the city, Fulcher thought.

"What do they do all day?" Fulcher asked aloud. Corvidrop, peered down at him from his horse.

"You don't know?" he asked. "They do nothing. They stand there and guard. Bandits are too afraid to approach. Beasts are too smart to try to hunt here. So they sit and they wait and they drink. And they gamble until something is desperate enough to try to breach The Southern Gate."

"How often is the town attacked?" Fulcher asked.

"I'd say about once every two months," Corvidrop said. "Which reminds me. I noticed you are wearing a ringcaster."

"Oh yes," Fulcher said. "This one's called Abyssal--"

"Now now," Corvidrop interrupted. "You can't say the name without activating it. I'm sure I can guess what the onyx ring does." He fished around somewhere in his robe, pulling out a bronze ring which held a carnelian.

"Do you want this?" he asked. "It's another ringcaster." Fulcher looked at it and looked back up at the Lord.

"Are you sure? Aren't they expensive or rare or something?" he asked. Benedict waved his hand dismissively.

"I own plenty of rare and expensive things. Unfortunately, this one doesn't match any of my outfits. It is quite useless to me. Observe," he said as he removed a knife from his sheath. He carefully pricked the end of his finger, drawing forth a droplet of blood. He let the blood fall as he slipped the ring onto his other hand, aiming the gem at his fresh wound. 

"Crimson Vigor," he muttered. The cut on his hand healed immediately as the blood clotted. He slid the ring off and held it out to Fulcher.

"It revitalizes the blood and closes wounds faster. Though I warn you, the larger the wound, the longer it will take. And, it is quite painful," he said. Fulcher stared at the ring.

"You can take yours off?" he asked. Corvidrop stared down at him, his gaze inquisitive.

"You can't?" he asked. Fulcher looked down at Abyssal Black shaking his head.

"No, the ring tightened itself around me once it put it on," he explained. Corvidrop seems to still for a moment before he took a deep breath in and sighed out a smile.

"Well, I'm sure it's nothing. Here, take this," he said as he flicked Crimson Vigor over to Fulcher who scrambled to catch it before it hit the ground.

"Thank you, Lord. I'm in your debt," Fulcher said.

"Yes, you are," Benedict remarked. "And don't forget it." The rumbling of a wagon drew both of their attention. Fulcher turned to see one of Corvidrop's servants at the seat of the horse drawn wagon as Corvidrop clapped.

"Ah, it seems your party has arrived with my other offerings!" he said. Vardia was the first to jump off the back of the cart, looking identical to when he arrived. Next came Arrow who bounded over, his tail wagging and his ears forward. He stared at Fulcher, now wearing a harness with two leather pouches on either side.

"What's this?" Fulcher asked.

"Water skins," Corvidrop explained. "I figured none of you wanted to carry them so I decided to make use of your mutt. Don't worry, we've placed a chilling enchantment on the harness. Even in the intense heat, your water should be cool. As will the dog under all of that fur."

A shifting of leather drew Fulcher's attention back to the cart as Schon jumped down. She had traded her tattered pink dress for studded leather armor. Reaching back into the wagon, she pulled out a thin war hammer.

"You're bringing a weapon like that?" Fulcher asked. She nodded as she slung the hammer on her shoulder with a grin. She eyed Fulcher.

"Well, I've noticed you haven't used your sword much. Figured if one of us had to be the melee fighter had to back up Vardia it should be me, since you clearly seen less than willing to do some damage," she remarked. Fulcher rolled his eyes but smiled.

"Fair enough," he said. Corvidrop clapped his hands together.

"Marvelous! Well, I bid you the best of luck on your adventure, and I promise you Stella will remain safe and happy here in Corvidrop with me," Benedict said. He whistled sharply and the gate began to lift, opening slowly with a groan as the adventurers guarding it moved out of the way. Fulcher caught a couple of glares from the gathered fighters but shrugged them off. Climbing into the wagon, the party began to move forward with Vardia in the box seat. Fulcher was the last aboard, reaching up his hand towards Benedict again.

"Thank you, Benedict! If we succeed, you and I can craft a new Kingdom together! One of coin and culture!" Fulcher called out.

Corvidrop watched them with a grin as he muttering to himself quietly, waving them away.

"How exciting... I do so enjoy being a betting man. Let's see if this gamble pays off..."