Two Blonds: Adventures in Averland

Xanartik requested Thor and Tanya, adventuring through the Empire and getting up to all sorts of trouble.

X x X

It was a quiet morning on the road to Grenzstadt, at least as far as those things went.  A steady trickle of caravans and traders passed through the northern gate of the fortress-town, carrying the wealth of dwarf trade deeper into Sigmar’s Holy Empire, or making the journey towards Black Fire Pass for more.  Most of these travellers were waved through after a short inspection and an exchange of coin, the guards well used to their jobs and the troubles they might face.  Some travellers though, some merited a closer inspection, and a quiet word passed to the rest of the squad hidden within the guardhouse.  The enormous blond man approaching was one of them.

“Hans,” one guard said.  He rapped on the closed shutter of the gatehouse he was leaning against, alerting those inside.

“Trouble, Johann?” the other asked, from across the lane they watched.  His sight hadn’t been so good ever since he had his bell rung by a goblin a few years back, but he still had his wits.

“Mebbe,” Johann said.  “Big man, warrior.  Northerner.  Approaching on the road.”

“Nordland or Norsca?” Hans asked.

“Ehh,” Johann said.  He shifted his grip on his halberd.

“Hrngh.  Weapons?”

“Big fucking axe.”

Hans squinted down the road.  “Think I see him.  Big bastard, innee.”

Three answering knocks came from the other side of the gatehouse shutters, and Johann relaxed slightly.  It was always better to be safe than sorry.

It did not take long for the man to reach the gates of the fortress-town.  He was even larger up close, head and shoulders taller than the two guards, who themselves were not small men.  Aside from the axe on his back, he was not garbed for travel, wearing simple clothes more suited to a day working in the fields.  A leather sack at his hip carried his only possessions.

“Greetings in Sigmar’s name, traveller,” Hans said.  “What brings you to Grenzstadt?”

“Good morn!,” the man said brightly.  Despite the time he must have spent on the road, his golden beard was luscious and free of dust, and his impressive physique contrasted with the peasant-like clothes he wore.  “I’m a tourist.”

Hans and Johann exchanged glances.

“What does a ‘tourist’ do when he’s at home?” Johann asked.  This had better not be some strange cult thing, he thought.

“Well, whatever it is they do when they’re not being a tourist,” the man said, as if they were the ones not speaking sense.

“From whence have you come?” Hans asked.

“Hochslehen,” he answered, naming the next town along the north west road.

“And before that?”

“Agheiten.”

That was the next town along.  “Before that?”

“Loningbruck.”

Hans scowled.  He was just naming every town along the road.  “What city did you last visit?”

“Nuln,” the blond said promptly.  “Before that Altdorf, and before that Karak Ungor.”

Karak Ungor wasn’t a dwarf city that either guard recognised, but that wasn’t all that unusual.  Frankly, they would wave him through at this point, but for his unusual looks, the lack of other travellers on the road, and their own boredom.

“We’re supposed to take your word for that then?” Johann asked.

The man appeared stymied for a moment.  “...yes?”

“Don’t get cheeky with us,” Hans said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, not with two fine guards as yourselves,” the man said.  He smiled, as if to reassure them of his good intentions.

The two guards had a feeling they were being mocked.

“Where did you say you was going again?” Johann asked.

“Karaz-a-Karak,” the man said.  His tone was earnest, even if his claim was ridiculous.

“The Dwarf capital?  Pull the other one,” Hans said.

“We’re going to need to inspect your belongings,” Johann said.  “Shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”

Suddenly, a new voice made itself known.  “This is a blatant abuse of authority.”  It was a young girl’s voice, high and childlike.

Hans and Johann startled, as it appeared to have come from the large man before them.  They barely had enough time to suspect some strange mutation before a blonde head popped up from behind his shoulder.

“I was told that Grenzstadt was a trading town of great repute,” the girl said, looking down on them as she leaned over her - father’s? brother’s? servant’s? - shoulder.

“It is!” Johann, the proud local boy, said.

“And yet we find ourselves threatened by bureaucracy,” the girl said.  Her blue eyes seemed to bore into them.  “One would hope that your superior would find this standard procedure if they were questioned on it.”

The two guards shared another glance.  They were used to threats and cajolement from self important merchants, but this girl spoke like a noble, and that was a can of worms they didn’t fancy getting into.

“We can call them if you wish, my lady, but your word to your good conduct would grant you entry,” Hans said, dusting off his old manners from when he had served the old Leitdorf.

The girl sniffed.  “Of course.  I’m sure the two of you were just doing your jobs.”

The big man reached up and patted his passenger on the head, setting once neat curls into disarray.  She flailed at him, slipping back down into whatever harness she had been riding in.  Siblings, then.

“Roight,” Johann said.  “It’s a shilling per leg to enter, whether you’re using them or not.”

The big man reached into the pouch at his hip and began to rummage around.  Hans and Johann watched, brows slowly rising, as his arm disappeared up to the elbow.  The sounds of clinking glass and metal on metal were heard.  At length, he found what he was looking for, and he offered up a single coin.

Already high brows threatened to fly off their faces entirely as they took in the gold coin, intricate rendering of the dwarfen Book of Grudges easily seen even from that far away.  It looked pristine, without so much as a finger smudge on it.

“We will have the change in Dawi currency, if you please,” the little girl said, popping back up to  stare down at them.

The two men looked from the girl, to the coin, to the axe peeking out from behind the man’s back, and made separate, simultaneous decisions not to question the strange pair paying their way with pristine dwarfen coin.  It could be the boss’ problem.

Johann rapped on the shutters once more, another prearranged pattern, and they clacked open.  The gold coin was passed through, and word passed for suitable change.  An awkward silence fell, the large man smiling pleasantly at them while his sister watched through narrowed eyes.  In time, the change was handed through and over, before it disappeared into the queer pouch.

“Welcome to Grenzstadt,” Hans said.  “Enjoy your stay.”

“I’m sure we will,” the man said.  He stepped past them, into the shadow of the gate and towards the town.

Hans and Johann let out a breath they hadn’t known they were holding as they watched them depart.  The pair were someone else’s problem now.

“We didn’t get their names,” Hans said.

“Fuck.”

X

Through the gates of Grenzstadt they walked, into a town that had witnessed much and more over the centuries.  There were murder holes above, and the walls were thick, with old scars and repairs visible.

“They seemed decent fellows,” the big man said.

“Hmph.  I’m sure you would have felt differently after hours in a waiting room,” the girl on his back said.  She clambered up to sit on his shoulder properly, legs dangling down to kick against his pectoral.  “You’re far too laissez-faire, Thor.  Humility is an excellent trait for one of your…stature, but there is a line.”

“And you shouldn’t hassle the little people so, Tanya,” Thor said, reproachful, as they emerged onto the main street of the town.  There were all kinds of shops and premises lining it, all of them made from stone and with sturdy shutters and bars on the windows.  A decent amount of foot traffic filled the street, most going about business within the town.

“You have to treat people as they expect to be treated,” Tanya said, “otherwise they get suspicious.  They didn’t know how to handle you, treating them with basic dignity and respect.”  Despite her words, she wore a smug smile, as if a point of hers had been proven somehow, or an old argument won.

Thor shook his head.  His companion had a strange perspective on things at times, and her previous lives had given her some queer notions of how people worked, but she was a companion all the same.  Filling a mountain with the corpses of rats and feral hulklings had a way of forging bonds.

A faint scent of cooked meat wafted past his nose, and his nostrils twitched.  “I think we should-”

“Yes,” Tanya said.  She had smelt it too.  She pointed down the street, towards a two storey building with broad doors that were open as often as not.  “As much as I enjoy lightning roasted elk, I require vegetables if I am to grow to my deserved height.  Onwards.”

“As you command, Lady Tanya,” Thor said, putting on a grand voice.

The tavern was not far away, and the locals were generous in not obstructing their path.  Thor had to duck through the doors to avoid knocking his or Tanya’s head, and he took in the open room, light streaming in from windows in the upper storey.  Stairs off to the right led up to a walkway that ran around the upper level, and what were likely rooms to rent.  A bar ran along the far wall, under the walkway, and the room was filled with round tables and chairs of roughly hewn and carved wood.  It was busy, folks of all sorts eating and drinking, from merchants to mercenaries to labourers.  A man almost as large as Thor but with no neck to speak of kept watch from one corner.

“Take a seat!” a buxom redhead said to them cheerfully, as they finished taking in the tavern. She held three plates balanced on her arms, and six mugs in her hands by their handles.  “You’ll be served as soon as we can get to you!”  She had already whirled away before they could respond.

They claimed a table for themselves, making themselves comfortable after days on the road, careful to keep the leather pouch holding all their possessions and the one particularly important piece of cargo close to hand.  The rumble of conversation surrounded them, and they began to wait for service.  And wait.  And wait.  And wait.

After the first ten minutes, Tanya began to shift impatiently.  After the next ten, she began to frown.  The next, her stomach was rumbling, spurred on by the scents coming from the kitchen behind the bar.  By the fourth she was scowling opening, fingers drumming on the table.

“This is obscene,” she finally said, patience spent.

“Hmm?” Thor said, looking up from the small hunk of iron he had been carving away at with a fingernail.  It was vaguely humanoid.

“That poor woman is the only waitress in the tavern,” Tanya said, gesturing towards the redhead who was still rushing back and forth across the room, never carrying fewer than two plates.  “She is taking the orders, bringing meals and drinks to the tables, and clearing them.  How does this business stay afloat with such poor management?”  She sounded personally affronted.

“Perhaps you should show them how it is done,” Thor said absently, focusing on getting the details of the helmet just right.

“You’re right, of course,” Tanya said.  Her gaze had fixed on the man behind the bar, slowly cleaning a mug and occasionally giving directions to the redhead, not a hint of urgency to him.  “I will.”

Thor blinked as Tanya rose from her seat.  “Wait, what?”  But she was already gone, threading through the other patrons to reach the bar.

Tanya considered the bar as she reached it.  The counter was just above her eye level, so she had to go on tip toes and tilt her head to see over it, and that was no way to have a professional conversation.

A nearby chair caught her eye, and it only took a moment to drag it loudly to the bar.  She hopped atop it and planted her hands on the countertop, leaning forwards to get the barkeep’s attention.

“Excuse me,” Tanya said, deploying her customer service voice.  “Are you the manager?”

The barkeeper, a bald man with a thick drooping moustache, glanced up from the mug he was polishing.  “I’m the owner,” he said with a grunt.

“Excellent,” Tanya said.  “Did you know my companion and I have been waiting for service for almost an hour?”

“Don’t blame me for the wench being slow,” he said, shrugging.

Tanya paused, eyes narrowing as she glanced at the single waitress almost running from table to table.  She would have to change her approach.  “It’s not a problem of hiring quality, but hiring practices.”

“That so.”

“Yes!” Tanya said, pleased to have found a receptive audience.  “WIth a second or third waitress, you could greatly reduce wait times and increase your daily take by a magnitude more than the cost of their wages.”

“You know a lot about running a tavern, do you?” the barkeep asked.  He looked across the room and gave someone a small nod, but Tanya missed it as she warmed to her subject.

“My experience is in human resources,” she said humbly, “but thank you for noticing.”  She took a deep breath.  “I had noticed several other areas where you could improve your business model…” She launched into her pitch, doing her best to highlight the areas she saw the greatest potential for improvement in.  It had been too long since she had been able to really shine in her area of expertise.  Such was her zeal that nearby patrons started to listen in, no doubt enraptured by the ideas she was laying out, and she felt an almost content glow build within.  Adventuring with a god worth respecting was all well and good, but there was nothing like returning to her roots.

At length, she brought her presentation to an end, and waited expectantly for a response.  The owner had listened attentively throughout, and she had a good feeling about things.

He nodded seriously.  “Brick,” the owner said.  “Get this little girl out of my tavern.”

A large hand took Tanya by the scruff of her jacket, lifting her from the chair she stood on like an errant kitten.  She squawked, twisting and failing, but to no avail.  Some of the audience she had gathered even laughed as her captor started to carry her towards the door.  It was the bouncer who had been keeping watch, and she noticed he had a heavy metal earring in one ear.  She was tempted for a moment to set it to scorchingly hot, but no -

“What is the meaning of this.”  It was not a question.

Brick stopped, looking up at the man blocking his way through the tables to the exit.  He hesitated, clearly unused to not being the biggest man in the room.

Tanya seized her chance, driving a fingernail into the web of flesh between finger and thumb of the hand holding her.  He dropped her with a curse, and she wasted no time, darting towards Thor and scrambling up his frame like a jungle gym, popping up from behind his shoulder to glare at the bouncer.

“She was disturbin’ the patrons and insulting the owner,” Brick blurted out, before Tanya could give her side of the story.

“I was giving professional advice-”

“Do you think this gives you the right to lay hands upon her?” Thor asked, as if discussing the weather.  He made no threatening gestures, and did not so much as frown.

“I was jus’-I wasn’t gonna hurt her, jus’ carry her outside,” Brick said, suddenly reminded of the time an ogre had been told the kitchen was out of pork.  “Boss wanted her out!  He told me.”

Thor turned an eye on the suddenly sweating owner.  Their discussion had caught more than a few eyes, and those in the middle were on the verge of squeezing out of the way.  “The boss told you.”

Brick nodded.

“Perhaps next time you will ask first.”

Brick nodded faster.

“I think we will spend our coin elsewhere,” Thor said.  He wasn’t one to threaten the little people, but sometimes they just got so nervous that everything you did came off that way.

“Whatever you say sir,” Brick said.

Thor turned to leave, satisfied, but the gremlin on his shoulder had one thing left to say.

“Owner,” she began sweetly, before cherubic features turned malicious.  “I could drive you out of business within a month.”

The sight of the owner biting his tongue against whatever retort he wanted to make was a balm to Tanya’s soul, and she wore a wide smile as they took their leave.  They passed the waitress as they did, and she flicked a silver coin of the Empire towards her.  It was important not to take one’s frustrations out on the employees of a business, rather than the business itself.  She caught it expertly and tucked it into her top, hardly breaking stride.

The doors closed behind them, leaving them standing in the street once more, still hungry.

Thor glanced at his companion as she made herself comfortable on his shoulder, catlike.  “What was it you said, about treating people as they expect to be treated?”  He began to walk deeper into the town in search of another tavern.

Tanya huffed.  “Any man who runs a business so poorly should be well accustomed to customer complaints.  I was the picture of grace as I gave him advice that he should have had to pay for.”

“You got on so well with the dawi, but every time you discuss business with a human someone walks away upset or bankrupt,” Thor said, shaking his head.

Scowling, Tanya opened her mouth to reply, but-

“Thor Odinson!”

Thor froze, looking around.  Five men had emerged from the foot traffic, not quite surrounding them in a half circle.  He knew that tone well, and he had no interest in dealing with the law of this place.  The red sashes they wore only confirmed his assumption.

“Noooo,” Thor said, drawing it out.  “I’m…Bor, Bor Friggasson.  You must have me confused with someone else.”

The leader of the five, a solid man with a missing ear, was unimpressed.  “Taller than most men, blond hair, oversized axe, small blonde child companion.  After your antics in Marienburg last year, the minstrels carried your description across the Empire.”

Thor winced.  The trip to Marienburg was part of why he and Tanya had decided to visit the mountains in the first place, leading to the whole business with the Red Eye tribe.

“You’ll need to come with us,” he finished.

“On what charges are you detaining us?” Tanya demanded.

“If I have to arrest you, I’ll think of something,” the leader of the five said.  “For now, it would be to your advantage to follow.”

Thor pondered the advantages of ignoring the humans, but he must have taken too long, for the leader gave a nod to one of his fellows.  The man approached, hand out as if to grab him by the shoulder, and Thor glanced at him.  He swallowed, stopping in place.

“We will see who is so eager to speak with us,” Thor said, “but if I do not like what we find, we will leave.”  Left unsaid was that he gave little thought to anyone’s ability to stop him.

The leader set his jaw in a grimace, and turned to lead the way deeper into the town.  Two fell in behind him, ahead of Thor and Tanya, while the other two followed behind.

Tanya grumbled disapproval in his ear as they went.  He just hoped this didn’t end with them having to flee the town again.

X

“Thank you for seeing me,” the man across the desk said, as he hurriedly wrote something down, quill almost zipping across the paper.  He had the look of a man who had once been a fighter, but had since discovered the joys of fine living.  He still had muscle to him, but it was padded comfortably.  By the size of the office they had been led to, overlooking the interior of a large warehouse, he was doing well for himself, and the walls were covered in a mix of old greenskin trophies and framed documents.

“Your invitation was most insistent,” Tanya said.  Her hands were held primly in her lap as she sat in a comfortable chair.  A pillow had been provided so she could see over the desk.

Thor sat in another chair beside her, Stormbreaker resting against it and sticking out like a sore thumb.

“I was perhaps overzealous in my orders once I heard that the Thor Odinson had arrived in Grenzstadt,” the man admitted.  He placed his quill down.  “My name is Calder.  I’m a member of the Burgher’s Council.”

“A polite request would have sufficed,” Tanya said.

Calder looked between the grown man and the little girl across from him, and Thor held back a smile.  He always enjoyed watching people decide how to respond to his companion.

“I apologise, but I had to be sure,” Calder said.  He leaned in, voice dropping.  “There is a matter I need your help with,” he said.

“Could you not have the town watch take care of it?” Tanya asked.  “They seemed quite eager to carry out your bidding in bringing us here.”

Calder grimaced, tugging at one of his mutton chops.  “My position on the council gives me some authority, but the matter is…sensitive.”

“It involves another council member,” Tanya said, before her eyes brightened, almost shining.

Thor held back a groan.  The last time she had gotten that look on her face, a dawi had been left unsure whether he wanted to adopt or declare a grudge on her.

“I-yes,” Calder said.  “How did you-”

“If you cannot wield the watch against them, that implies they also have influence over the watch,” Tanya said.  “Therefore, you are attempting to bring in outside contractors to solve your problem for you.”  She leaned in, sharklike.  “So, what is your problem?”

“It is not my problem so much as Grezstadt’s,” Calder said.  “Perhaps even Averland’s.”

“Why do you not go to the Edler?” Thor asked, speaking for the first time.  “Surely your leader would address your concerns.”

Calder started slightly, having been drawn into Tanya’s orbit.  “I do not precisely have any proof, and I have a history with the one I suspect.”

“Old rivals?” Tanya asked knowingly.

“Of sorts,” Calder said, mouth thinning.  “Mikhail is–we competed for the same guard contracts, then ran the same routes, and now we both facilitate trade through the Pass.  But now I think he’s involved in something…dark.”

“Dark, you say,” Thor said.  “What manner of darkness?”

“I would rather not say, lest I colour your thoughts,” Calder said.  “The danger isn’t a physical one.”

“Oh, of course,” Tanya said.  “I’m sure his crimes will become clear with some investigation.  How much would you be willing to pay for such a thing?”

“For evidence of his misdeeds?” Calder asked.

“For the investigation,” Tanya corrected.

“Are you not heroes of the Empire?” Calder asked, though his tone said he already knew the answer.

“Even heroes must eat, and be given fair compensation for the value of their services,” Tanya said, voice cherubic.

“Two gold crowns for a clandestine investigation of his warehouse,” Calder said.

“For Thor Odinson?” Tanya said.  “Five would be more suitable, especially for a sensitive matter.”

Calder chewed his lip for a moment.  “Aye.  Five gold crowns then.”

Tanya blinked, surprised, but only for a moment.  “Done,” she said.

From there they hashed out the details, and Calder told them what they needed to know about his rival, Mikhail.  Tanya was in such a good mood she didn’t even ask for half in advance.  They left the warehouse in much higher spirits than they had arrived in.

Thor watched with an amused eye as Tanya almost skipped down the lane.  “I did not know our funds were so low,” he said.

“Our funds are perfectly fine,” she answered.  “I have kept a strict accounting-”

“I know, I know,” Thor said.  Best not to get her started.  “We are to aid this man then.”

Tanya nodded.  “Crowns to pennies the only darkness to be found is a bribed official to help him gain market share.  We’ll solve this mystery before the day is out.”  She frowned slightly, but put whatever was troubling her from her mind.

In their early days together, such a comment by him would have left her sure that he disapproved of her decision, and left her questioning herself for hours.  He was pleased to see she had made such strides in her self confidence.  “We won’t find his crimes by asking nicely,” he warned.

“We could do Distraught Orphan,” Tanya suggested.

“We’ll call that Plan C,” Thor said, “if we cannot find our own way in, and Lost Girl doesn’t work.”

Tanya pouted.  “You never want to do Distraught Orphan.”

“I don’t fancy being chased by a mob again,” Thor said, feeling a sudden camaraderie with his brother over all the nonsense he’d put him through, but he shook himself.  Loki had deserved most of it anyway.  “Now come; Calder said the warehouse was on the other side of town…”

X

The warehouse itself was in a quieter part of the town, and surrounded by a brick wall, rusty iron spikes atop it to deter any would be intruders.  In the end, they did not have to do Distraught Orphan or Lost Girl, because there was only a single guard, slowly meandering his way around the grounds of the warehouse under the midday sun.   All they had to do was wait for the guard to amble to the far side of the building, before Thor jumped easily over the wall, Tanya’s arms clasped around his neck.  Luckily, there was a side door quite close.  He ducked over to it, stepping lightly.

Thor tested the door, but it did not budge.  He gave it a considering look.  If there was no one around to hear it broken open, did it not still count as stealth?

“Is it locked, or barred?” Tanya asked, loosing her hold on him and dropping down.

“Locked.”

“Let me,” she said, sidling between him and the door and giving it a look of focus.

Thor stepped back to let her work, watching as she leaned in and breathed into the keyhole, much like one would when trying to warm their hands.  There was a click, and the latch unlocked.  She peered through the crack, then, seeing no one, ducked inside.  Thor followed.

Inside the warehouse was nothing special, merely crates upon crates stacked and ordered from one wall to the other.  The scent of sawdust was heavy in the air, and the support pillars had a lantern sconce on each face.  Perhaps only half of them were lit however, leaving much of the interior shrouded in gloom.  All was quiet.

Tanya scurried up him in a familiar action, using him as a perch to peer over the crates.  “I see an office in the far corner,” she whispered.

“I will search amongst the goods,” Thor said, quietly as he could.  The timbre of his voice still spread; they were lucky the interior appeared to be deserted.

They split up, Tanya creeping through the shadows to the office near the main doors, and Thor prowling through the lanes between the wooden crates.  He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, but then he rarely had been in the early days with the Avengers either, but that had all turned out fine.  Ish.

Many of the crates were nailed shut, and those that weren’t were all empty, save for a bit of packing hay.  He trundled along, lane by lane, the complete lack of any other living soul taking away the sense of anxiety that came with sneaking around.  There was a dark stain of indeterminate origin on the stone floor in one spot, but it could just as easily have been oil as blood.  He came to an intersection and turned for the rear of the building, reasoning that if there was anything to be hidden, it would be in the lower traffic parts of the warehouse.  He wasn’t going to discover anything simply by walking each row.

As he neared the back, however, he began to slow.  His nose twitched.  The building was still gloomy, still dark, but instead of the cloying smell of old hay and sawdust, he could smell something floral.  He looked down, and saw scattered petals, old and dry.  He crouched down and picked them up, rubbing them between his fingers.  Dropped by chance, or…?

As he made to get up, his eye was caught by the crate before him, and the petal that had been caught between the lid and the body.  By chance, but not without cause, it seemed.  Easily, he picked up the crate on top of it and set it down, running his fingertips along the seam of the crate.  Nails were little obstacle as he pulled the lid off, to reveal a crate packed not with old hay, but with sweetly smelling flowers.  The scent near on burned in his nose, overpowering anything else.

“What reason could someone have to pack a crate with you, I wonder,” Thor said to himself.  He dug into the contents, quickly finding a hard surface.  Sweeping away the petals, another box was revealed, and further investigation showed it to be only one of four packed tightly into the crate.  Opening it proved no more trouble than the first, and he laid eyes on what was inside.  He sighed.  So much for it being a simple job.

Small footsteps drew his ear, and he glanced up to see Tanya approaching.  She held a sheaf of paper in one fist, holding it up victoriously.

“Smuggling,” she announced, satisfaction in her voice.  “Illegal revenue still needs to be recorded, it seems.”  She hopped up onto the crate Thor had set aside to get at his target, looking down to see what he had uncovered.  “What did you-oh.”

“Yes,” Thor said, mouth turning downwards.  “‘Oh’.”

Looking up at them from the box within the box was a human corpse, packed tightly like so much cargo.  Perhaps they had found that darkness after all.