(Vol 2) Chapter 45: The Beaten Road, or Straying?

The first thing Sammy did was try to deal with it calmly — and calm down the frantic Dax. “Alright, Dax, we’ll figure it out. But. I’m — just saying this, now — but maybe — just maybe — he’s with, you know, a, um, a fan-”

“He isn’t bedding some- some aristocratic cougar, Goddess! Nor a random sighing servant girl. I told you, he’s quite smitten with Estara. That’s not it.”

“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but when gals are interested in guys enough to pursue, rather than the other way around? Things tend to just ‘happen’ with much more frequency.”

There was something like a frustrated mental glare from Dax. “Do you know him better than me, or do I know him better than you?”

“I’m just saying, maybe you… Look, never mind. Let’s just track him down and figure it out from there.”

“We are now in blissfully perfect agreement!”

“But you should really ease up on the protectiveness a bit, you know.”

Mental voice getting slightly more shrill with each word, Dax sent, “Let’s stay blissful, please! Until he’s found — yeah?!”

Wish I could have her watch a certain movie about a certain dad-fish and helicopter parenting… because she acts like his mom, like, for real…

“Fine. Let me see…” Sammy reached out to make contact with Merril… and found that he had somehow squelched the connection to a tiny thread. She couldn’t reach him at all, and certainly couldn’t track him. “Welp. The good news is… he’s not dead.”

Amazingly, the ironic comment generated some measure of relief in Dax. “Thank the heavens! And, er, what’s the- the bad news?”

“He’s squelched the connection where I can’t communicate with him. And here I thought we were getting on so well! Honestly, Dax, he’s probably doing it for privacy.”

‘He’s doing it so he can run off! And he has a surly attitude, lately. Hence not telling anyone. We just need to…” There was a pause as she seemed to be rummaging around. “Ha, see! His saddlebags are gone! But they must’ve gotten put on a separate horse…”

“Hmm, so he did ride somewhere, at least. Where would he go?”

“Depends on what his motive is. Let’s ask around. You talk to the believer base. I’ll speak with those who might’ve seen him leave or spoke to him on the way.”

“Sounds good.”

New Quest unlocked: “The Beaten Road, or Straying?” — Track down Merril.

● Rewards: +20-50 FE, +2-5 exp in [Goddess],  +1-4 exp credit to one of two most relevant sub-classes used during quest.

“Shit.” They both said it at the same time. Then Sammy sent, “Well. I was told variable rewards with a low minimum means you can hope for smoothness.”

Dax could not hide how little she believed it. “Sure…”

I hope he isn’t dumb enough to be leaning on that get-out-of-death-free card. Tempting fate yet again is a really, really bad idea…

Samantha began pinging her Followers for any clues about where he’d go, maybe if he’d left hints through complaints or the like. Estara was quite alarmed at the news, though she had no idea where he’d go. She suggested he was probably acting on wanderlust to some degree… typical of bards and minstrels. He was likely craving new experiences to draw from. Estara quickly joined the efforts to question others, as well.

Various questioned parties knew nothing in particular. Carlisle was clueless. Pashett also.

Bob, just waking up, seemed to accept it as if he expected it. “Yeah, it figures he would, Your Majesty… I remember chatting with him a little about Mot Mekess, and how he thought it was a sorry excuse for a capital. He’d tried performing at a couple of inns, I think? Said it was ‘weak.’ Oh, and ‘too much stoicism here, like…’ Hmm, how did he put it? Ah: ‘Like a city of Carls.’ That’s what he said.”

“Wow. Taking a shot at Rockpile Carlisle.” Sammy thought it was pretty damning that he was headed for a seedier city, at that point. “So did he say where he thought he’d find a more agreeable populace?”

“Nay. But ‘round here, there’s only Caneboro that’s more a proper trade city. Besides Stillwater, but that’s a Dominion haven. Kind of the consolation prize, the number 2 city, for never quite taming Caneboro. It’s a  seaport, and that’s where any trade south of the mountains happens… All those islands and such. But there’s nothing like Caneboro north, not a right lick, no matter how much them sages wish there were.”

“Interesting. Thank you, Sir Bob.” Caneboro had long been a destination of Dax’s and presumably Merril’s as well, but Sammy was somewhat concerned he might leave the port for an even less seemly city. She did not want Merril trying to tackle Zek Sephel, a port long before Geirkos on the southern sea route, and one Azure had labeled ‘a hive of scum and villainy.’

I swear I’ve heard that line before, too… probably some past life. I bet there’s a Zek Sephel type of place in every fucking reality.

Sammy finally popped back to Dax and shared the info from Bob and Estara about Merril’s likely motives and destination.

She listened soberly, then sighed longsufferingly afterward. “Yeah, he’s headed to bloody Caneboro. He took the wrong gate out for it as if he were going west, but the guard said they saw him take a weird path off the road. I know he did it to circle around in the opposite direction. And he did all this in the bloody nighttime. And he has a bloody enchantment on his horse!”

“Oh great — you mean the kind that turns them into a poor man’s car, galloping endlessly?”

“Yes! Expensive shit, too. Useless without roads or maybe flat plains in the daytime. Dangerous at night regardless. But it’s a nice road up toward Stillwater until breaking to Caneboro where it eventually declines… at least I know he didn’t break his neck on the way.”

“So how close would he be by now?”

“Over halfway for sure. Total time… I’d guess nine to twelve hours… hard to say.”

“I will ask Agatha to provide you with whatever you need to pursue. But, um, why didn’t he just wait for you and him to go? Wasn’t that the plan?”

Another great big mental sigh. “I didn’t want him going there with the state he’s in… Sorry, Your Majesty, but I had intended for us to stay here for a while, maybe take advantage of this knighting business for some more positive direction… I guess I fucked up. I knew he wanted to go, but you know how we argue all the damn time, anyway. Ironically, we hadn’t been as much, so I felt like things were getting closer to normal…”

“It all sounds perfectly reasonable, Dax. But now he’s doing what he wants to do. I guess if not for his depression… and this fucking quest popping up… I’d say let him do his own thing entirely.”

“Like I said, you don’t know him like I do. Him going it solo is going to be him taking a dirt nap. And why not talk about it first like a reasonable adult, huh? Or at least leave a letter?! He’s just showing how irresponsible he is doing this!”

Sammy frowned and considered it. She’d had some down points in her life. “I’d say he runs away like this mostly because he doesn’t have the emotional energy to make the case, argue, so on. Especially with multiple people. Both of his lives, maybe most of them, were in some form loners. And what would a letter change? Would you not just go after him even quicker?”

The mental energy from Dax was sullen. “I mean, it would be more considerate…”

“I understand it hurts not being considered. And he takes all you’ve done for him for granted. But we both know he super duper resents you. Dunno that there’s an easy fix for that because it is on him, but only if you back off and give it time.”

“Well, I can’t do that and keep him alive, so I guess I just go on being resented and taken for granted as the lesser evil.”

Sammy sighed. Merril’s new self was unlikely to keep accepting the old balance of things, but Dax would have to learn it the hard way, clearly. “I’ll leave you to your preparations. I doubt we can send an army, but we are making damn sure you aren’t going alone. Not on a fucking exp mission.”

“I have a wee bit of brain left in my noggin to agree with that meta, Your Majesty. Understood.”

Sammy disconnected, then touched base with Agatha to give her the lowdown and ask for her assistance, which she was more than happy to provide. The enchantments were not easy to secure and were limited — she could offer no more than four of them. In addition to this, she gave the pick of her men and the offering of equipment to match.

As such, Sammy went with Bob for one of the picks, being a Follower, a capable warrior, and even someone with some rapport with Merril on top of the rest. Estara naturally insisted on going, stating her ‘pluses’ herself in a big list of why she should… obviously anxious to convince her goddess. Sammy had little recourse to argue despite her worries, just considering how key she was to Merril, much less her capabilities as a priestess.

Estara also suggested Bob as a target for Devout and a rank-up in the organization — Sammy agreed immediately.

Bob had a very Bob-like response to the news. “Well, drop me in the drink and call me an ugly fish, I’ll do my best, Goddess.” The ceremony was short and sweet.

Follower has obtained quality grade [Devout] and provides 1 additional FE per day.

The third member was questionable. Carlisle needed to get back to his estate for a variety of reasons, and Sammy preferred Pashett and Finley to stay in Mot Mekess. Estara suggested one of the younger, capable knights she’d converted, a fellow by the name of Brynn. He was also trained as a scout, which rounded things out a bit.

Another issue was who would have the mask relics. Sammy was not inclined to have both of them going to Caneboro, so she’d leave one with Agatha as the one most likely to need emergency protection. If a more active use were required somewhere, she could give it to Pashett or Finley.

Dax was equipped with all new, minorly enchanted gear, including a saber, dagger, and a leather longcoat. Bob was equally well-equipped with spear, saber, shield, and wearing a breastplate and mail.

Estara had an enchanted quarterstaff, as well as a small buckler that was designed to strap to the wrist. She had also become the wielder of the sickle Glogmegglog, as everyone else was too specialized to bother wielding such a strange, if simple-to-operate, weapon.

She had also traded her enchanted ring in for more perpetually enchanted clothing: a silken white riding dress with runic gold trim and a high belt, all of it reminiscent of something vaguely Celtic. It had its own hood as well — technically illegal in Dominion territory, but she’d seen that it was exceptionally lax in enforcement in most places.

“It’s so cute!” Estara gushed when Sammy complimented it. “Agatha said it’s been in the treasury vault for a long time. It was made and worn by some ancient sorceress. They used to be iconic to Oldaster, she said. But this one was… well, burned at the stake from some heresy not well detailed. The cloth didn’t burn, so they tossed it in a vault.

“She asked if I was sure I wanted it after hearing that, but she said all of three living souls even know about the story. It kinda just felt right. And it does make me look like a witch.”

“A grim tale, but I feel like it was fated to be yours, Estara. It highlights your courage to cast aside superstition.”

Once again, Estara was somewhat embarrassed by praise, but she didn’t balk tangibly. “Never had much of a head for superstition. Which makes me pretty strange I guess. My mother says I got my stubbornness from my father. Some traveler she’d never discuss. Bitch.” A mental clap over the mouth. “Oh, Goddess! Sorry!”

Sammy couldn’t help but smirk. “It’s alright, Estara. Anyway, I’m glad you have some stylish, protective gear.”

“Me too! Oh — Your Majesty, Your Majesty — guess what it has, too! Just guess!”

They said it together (and even out loud), because Sammy just knew. “Pockets!”

____________________________________________________________

« (Vol 2) Chapter 44 | Table of Contents | (Vol 2) Chapter 46: Made To Crusade »

____________________________________________________________

Note: Yes, but can you guess what kind of pockets??