ChaPT@r 3: Let me explain…

Brandt stood on the prow of the “Prancing Bertha” watching the riverport, albeit presently it was solely his ferry since there was still no sign of Anh. This was just one part of the complications though. The persistent rumors about another Vihrzug could safely be put to rest… like a prophecy, which has already been fulfilled, since, despite having booked everything well in advance, most of his reserved space was taken over by a group of soldiers and their cargo, leaving only one large cabin and practically no space for the additional luggage they had. For close to a half-candle he haggled, pleaded, and even tried to bribe the captain, and since none of these yielded any results, the Nord had to hastily go pawn their pack animals whilst the dockworkers stowed their stuff on the vessel. He managed to complete all this with a quanter with ash to spare.

Despite keeping outwardly calm, Brandt was fuming. It was already past their departure time and that Divinul forsaken tanai was still nowhere to be found. Up until this moment, everything was working, roughly, as planned. Sure, the tanai turned out to be a touch… misbehaved, but so far could easily be set back on the correct azimuth. Now it seemed that the bookkeeper decided to undermine the entire expedition because… well because he needed to buy paper, no doubt. Behavior which, suffice to say, was unacceptable.

-” Herr Zerster.” - came a hoarse voice somewhere from behind - “Ve need to get going. Kan’t veit.”

Brandt turned around to meet the captain of the barge himself, a scruffy, wiry old geezer. His skin was pale as if it was bleached in the sun, matching the sparse remains of facial hair. The sailor was barely more than one and a half mers tall and the Nord's muscular silhouette towered head and shoulders over him, and yet that somehow didn’t seem to matter, as the captain exuded an aura of absolute authority and ‘no nonsense’ attitude. This was perhaps underlined by his uniform, a slightly faded outfit typical for the Paladinmarine, complete with embroidered cuffs and a matching bicorne hat.

Brandt glanced sideways at the load stowed on the barge. Every bit of space was filled with crates bearing insignia of Ordo Pvgatore and Offices of Erstpaladin, sloppily and hastily stenciled with black paint. Each box was also sealed with a strip of parchment bearing a Fouring of Vhirs and affixed with wax. This cargo was accompanied by at least a dozen grim men, each one armed to the teeth, with swords, long-hafted axes, two-handed messer-style falchions, and even one or two long muskets, each one well armored with elements of plate, blackened mail, and boiled leather. Each one wearing a black-and-red hood and matching long loincloths. One didn't have to be a genius to deduce that the needs of these people came way before any requirements that a foreigner might have.

-” Of course.” - sighed Brandt, exhasperated -” Let’s move. My colleague will need to catch up on his own.”

The captain just nodded, turned about, and started walking towards the stern. He gestured at some men, then shouted something unrecognizable at others, and the crew and dockworkers sprung into action. Moorings were cast off, ropes hauled up and stowed, heavy wooden anchor pulled up and secured. A couple of sailors stepped up and, using long barge poles, skilfully, although with strain, pushed the oversized vessel away from the dock.

Brandt watched their work with a perverse sense of pleasure. The crew moved about like a well-oiled machine, quickly and efficiently. The entire procedure took no more than a quanter. As soon as the barge started to drift towards the bridge, carried by the lazy currents of Orda, a large paddle wheel at the stern awoke with a shudder. It started rotating slowly, laboriously, working against the flow of the river. “Bertha” was officially underway

-”Look zere, Herr Banker.” - said one of the soldiers, nudging Brandt with his elbow. The Nord pulled away from observing the crew and obediently looked where the man pointed.

A floating, enrobed figure emerged from behind the tent camp, sharply turned towards the riverport, then picked up speed. Anh - easily recognizable due to the color of his clothes - was in a rush, his robe fluttering madly. Everywhere he passed he caused a stir, no less because trailing the tanai were two large, airborne, leather tubi. From Brandt's vantage point they seemed to be simply caught in the wake of the speeding bookkeeper, but no: he kept them tight in his kinetic grip, almost precisely within a mer. Every course correction took the tubi that little bit longer to adjust, bringing to mind a heavy carriage drifting around corners at speed. Brandt shook his head at this ridiculous scene, noting with a certain dose of amusement that it was both comical and impressive.

By the time Anh finally arrived at the wharf, the “Bertha” was already a couple hundred mers off the shore. He stopped for a moment, and looked around, using one of the levitating tubi to shield his eyes from the sharp glare reflecting from the Orda’s waters. He seemed to find what he was looking for because he picked up the speed again and simply and unceremoniously floated over the water and headed towards the barge.

Brandt scoffed. Instinctively he thought it reckless, but then he recalled that the same thing happened just that very morning. The tanai most likely knew what he was doing, as not only he floated over the waters without much difficulty but also quickly closed the distance to the vessel.

-” Did you get your paper?” - smugly asked the Nord when the tanai finally floated over the barge’s deck - “was it worth it?”

Anh’s flight was uneasy and he was breathing heavily. A smell of ozone was emanating from him and his hair was in complete disarray. It took a triskol for the tanai to regain a semblance of composure.

-“ So…” - he panted - “...I spent too much time browsing…” - once again, he let off a wheeze and immediately gasped for more -”...browsing in all of the shops.”- he let a long wheeze and took another breath - “But I’ve got my paper. So all is good”

-“ I needed to hold the barge for almost a candle” - grimly said Brandt

-“ It was well worth it!” - exclaimed Anh - “This town is great! I found an entire alley filled to the brim with bookshops, curiosities, medical supplies, and even chemistry utensils. Entire alley! I need to return here once we get this precursor quest of ours done…”

-“ Shut up!” - hastily barked Brandt

-“ What!? Why?”

Hoomin leaned over and whispered to the tanai.

-“ Take a look around” - Brandt discreetly gestured around - “you see those around us?”

Anh followed his companion’s hints.

-“ Armed men. Some boxes. What of it?”

-“ Are you really this clueless?” - sighed Brandt

-“Assume yes, and explain” - Anh was somewhat annoyed

-“Those are people of the Church. Guarding supplies. Which are going our way. Which means that our escapade just got more complicated.”

-” I see” - Anh stroked his goatee - “I’m sure we are going to be fine.

-“ I would like to believe your optimism” - said Hoomin absentmindedly - “ I learned to expect the worst. Try not to draw attention to yourself” - Brandt took a look at Anh, in a colorful and somewhat stained robe, floating before him, with hair in disarray, droplets of sweat drying out on his face, two tubii floating beside him, and expression of befuddlement written on his face - “At least, draw as little as you possibly can muster.”

The tanai, still heaving heavily, squinted suspiciously at the cargo.

-" ...and where are my mules?" - he asked - "I need to repack, and…"

-" Gone." - answered Brandt - "The Ordo has taken most of our space, so I've had to sell them off. Cheaply. If I didn’t we would not be allowed on board."

-" You mean to say someone was fondling my things?"

The banker nodded and pointed towards a wooden superstructure at the barge's stern.

-" Yes. It's all in our cabin, left door, first on the right."

The tanai floated off to the cabin, managing to simultaneously look offended and tired. Brandt gazed after him for a few drips, then smiled, shook his head, and returned to watching the shore go by.

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