Pagewhispering...
Pagewhispering...
89 quotes (89 spoken, 0 mentions)
“Silver and steel.”
“I heard there used to be a trade route passing along here. Whatever happened to that?”
“Right. Has it grown recently?”
“I’ve heard a thousand feet…”
“—But we’ll be first north and have the best markup. That’s what you said.”
“My sister.”
“I have to at least twice a decade, right? Besides, I heard something interesting is happening around Liscor. It’s just good business.”
“I hear a dungeon’s popped up. My sister’s an adventurer.”
“Him too. He’s Gold-rank. She’s Silver.”
“He challenged me to a duel, Buleth. I’m the lone [Merchant]. I have a reputation to keep up.”
“Want to look if you’re so curious? I’ll sell your [Guards] blades at a discount.”
“It’s beautiful and an alloy, so it doesn’t tarnish. Stronger than regular steel is my claim—and some monsters hate it. But truthfully? The [Smiths] who make this just know their craft better than some dunce with a hammer.”
“Actually? I get half of my arms from a Gnoll tribe. They just do the stamping with my crest. Heard of the Silverfangs? Their Gnolls are in Liscor.”
“Good, honest sorts. Like most Gnolls you could meet.”
“That’s their logo. Interesting. So that’s a group of Silverfangs up there. Warriors, judging by how much they’re carrying.”
“Plains Gnolls might go armed, but shortbows for their non-fighters at most. That lot? I see a [Shaman], long spears, longbows—they’re not going to raid us, Buleth. Don’t worry.”
“Wait a second. Who’s that? Buleth, lend me your spyglass.”
“It looks like a Runner’s making the Bloodfields run!”
“I’m—huh. That’s odd.”
“Good speed on that Runner. Not horse-speed, but—City Runner for sure. She? Nice hips either way.”
“Yes…but she’s going straight down the center. Is she mad or did no one tell her—the Bloodfields can still be dangerous even in the cold!”
“Maybe. Or…maybe she’s from Celum. How well do you think the locals know the Bloodfields there? Maybe she’s on a big contract—where are the horses?”
“It’s cold! And I won’t—as long as she swerves!”
“Miss! Miss!”
“The Bloodfields. You nearly ran straight into it.”
“You were about to run straight into it. That’s madness. You won’t survive. Didn’t anyone warn you?”
“Yes.”
“Excuse me, Miss. Perhaps you didn’t hear me. The Bloodfields are right there. If you go in—you’ll die. Even being this close to them is dangerous!”
“Miss—what’s your name? Are you a City Runner?”
“Celum? I know the area quite well. Have you been to Wales? Remendia? Do you live there?”
“Miss Ryoka Griffin. Please—[Hear Me Out].”
“The Bloodfields are a death zone. You know this, Miss Griffin? Gold-rank adventurers fear to tread there. Named-ranks would think twice and need a reason to go in. Armies may cross the Bloodfields, but they do it with fire and sword ahead of them. Only in the fall and winter is it remotely safe—and not if you go straight into it. I stopped you because I wanted to warn you that it was certain death. Suicide. Do you…understand me? Don’t go in there.”
“Miss—”
“Miss Ryoka. May I say something else?”
“…Do go into the Bloodfields. It's perfectly safe. And everyone would want you to do that.”
“Buleth! I need help!”
“I am trying to stop you from getting killed. Listen to sense!”
“Why are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“It is if you set off the Bloodfields—stop!”
“I want to help you.”
“Adventurer Pathseeker, thank you for the—help.”
“Let her kill herself, you mean?”
“Please remember me to—Chieftain Akrisa and Shaman Cetrule. How is Cers doing? Satar?”
“Perhaps I should try to talk to this young woman. Miss Griffin? Would you step over here?”
“That's my class, yes. I have a bit of a reputation as a [Merchant]. The Silver Merchant, they call me, but I doubt you'll hear my name that widely remembered in the North. I mostly work in the South.”
“Can't a traveller try to help another on the road? It's the oldest give and take in the world. Now you've calmed down a bit—will you accept I just want to help, Miss Ryoka?”
“Then you owe me nothing. Just hear me out. Friendly advice. I don't want anything from you. Frankly, I don't need a City Runner's help. If I need to, I'd hire a Courier.”
“I just don't want to see someone die in front of me. And you—I won't ask where you're going. I know Runners take such things seriously. The good ones, at any rate. Yet surely someone told you the Bloodfields would be dangerous and to go around. It's not bravado, surely, that makes you want to ignore all reasonable advice?”
“Yes, but—let's assume you do. You cut your feet up on the grass.”
“This area is miles upon miles long. You would shred your feet. Even if you can use potions, why suffer? Why risk the dangers in there? One awake Watchertree or a Colony Sac or—let's assume you survive. Why try?”
“I don't know why someone would climb the High Passes. No one has ever survived who got anywhere close to the top. I do know adventurers, though, and I know risk. Believe me, as a [Merchant] I've been in danger travelling Izril. I am also a young enough woman to know why you'd want to dare it for excitement and bravado.”
“Thirty-four.”
“If nothing else, Miss Ryoka—what would your friends think, your family, if you were to go missing? I do not want to be the bearer of bad news to those who care about you.”
“You know, my family loves honesty and integrity. Just like metal. It's our motif. Silver and steel. Purity and strength. Valor and something else. For all that, most of my family can't spot a liar even when it's tattooed on their face. But you—even my brother would know you're lying, Miss Ryoka. Everyone has someone who cares for them. Everyone has a friend.”
“In my experience, Miss Griffin, no matter how much we want to run forever—someday we do have to go back. And it is better not to leave regrets behind. They grow. Better to face them now. It is harder than monsters. But a more important battle. If only we could always know we'd win.”
“Miss Griffin. Look at me for one second.”
“Miss Griffin. Would you believe I belong to a noble family in the north? A small one, but I'm technically a [Lady] by birth. And if you know anything of the north, I think you understand what my House is like. Miss Ryoka. I know something about not fitting in.”
“I rather think that is your case, Miss Griffin. I was going to say that if they cannot accept you with all your oddities—if not your objectionable behavior—if they cannot accept the core of you, they do not deserve your company. But then—I also respect someone who would change the mountain to fit their passage.”
“But if there are good sorts behind you—why not come back with us? My sister can be—well, I haven't seen her for at least five years. But we could always use a companion on the road. It could be pleasant.”
“That's all I can ask for. At least have a cup of tea or one of Buleth's snacks, though. And—”
“Buleth! Why are they fighting?”
“Time to get going. We might need to skip Liscor.”
“Are you sure you won't come with us?”
“As am I. But if you catch us—at least let's have a drink, agreed?”
“No! Get to Ryoka! Someone’s trying to kill her!”
“Drop your weapons or die!”
“—Ryoka!”
“Abandon the wagons!”
“Abandon the wagons and get them later! Or we’ll all be dead! Get on a horse and ride!”
“Run!”
“You made it?”
“We’ll recover it when it freezes, Buleth. Hire a Courier or an adventuring team. Or before—the Bloodfields are cooling down. But there’ll be no more traffic until winter.”
“I saw one taken by a Watchertree. The other fell—the bugs are all over him. Poor bastard. He might survive if he’s got a potion. If he’s lucky—he won’t have a potion.”
“Anyone have a longbow? We could try putting him out of his misery.”
“You might want to come with us, Miss Griffin. Looks like you’re going on a delivery after all. Why don’t you join us?”
“I know you must be crazy—but you barely made it out alive. He can’t run. Those Watchertrees will get you if you slow down. There’s at least one in between you and him. He shot you. He tried to kill you. I’m all for forgiveness, but is it worth dying?”
“Tell me why. And it has to be a better reason than ‘you’re not afraid of dying’. Or I swear on my levels I’ll stab you in the leg to save you from yourself.”
“Run. I’ll cover you.”
“I said run!”
“This sword is the heirloom of my house. It is my past. Silver and steel be my guide. In the name of the Silver Dragon!”
“[Quicksilver Cut].”
“Forget it. I never liked it, anyways. It’s just a sword. I used it for something worthy. I think even my father would be proud.”
“If you’re going to make it, that Watchertree will probably be dangerous in an hour or less. I’ve just wounded it. If you come south, I’d love the company. I’ll wager we’ll get free drinks enough to recoup my losses, at least.”
“You—Claudeil?”
“You won’t be going north. That girl—Persua? Did she get away?”
“Swear on a truth stone you’ll never join her. Swear—and we’ll settle your debts like [Merchants]. We’ll take care of him.”
“Later. Let’s get out of here. Miss Ryoka?”
“Do you have more people you need to apologize to? Your friends?”
“Then go and apologize to them. Then—when we meet, you can thank me in person. I will see you again, someday. Next year or later. [Merchants], like Runners, go everywhere.”