studiobondurri Before the Storm: Act 7, Chapter 4
Before the Storm: Act 7, Chapter 4
Before the Storm: Act 7, Chapter 4
Chapter 4
“You sure that’s him?”
“I don’t know. The description they gave us is worth jack shit!”
A blonde-haired youth who would already be considered an adult in Re-Estize.
That was pretty much one in ten people. Maybe a bit less since a bunch of them had died at the Battle of Katze Plains.
“We need to find him quick. If he reaches the checkpoint without us...”
“I know! Just shut up and keep an eye out. There must be something that sets him apart.”
“You Olin?”
Olin’s back straightened as a low voice came from behind them. He looked over his shoulder to find a blonde-haired youth who would already be considered an adult in Re-Estize. His henchman scowled and moved to clear him away, but Olin reacted just in time to stop him.
“I’m Olin. Just Olin.”
“Liam,” the youth replied. “Just Liam.”
What were the chances that he was posing as the Sorcerous Kingdom’s agent? Powerful people had powerful enemies, after all.
“Nice to meet you, Liam,” Olin smiled. “My man here’s Hench.”
“Hello,” Liam said.
Hench grunted in response and turned away. Olin resisted the urge to throttle the man. Then again, the lack of retaliation from ‘Liam’ gave him something to think about.
In his experience, the Sorcerous Kingdom was ruthless. Inhuman. The memory of what they had put him through was enough to make even the most hardened criminal vomit. Since Hench had gotten away with his show of disrespect, it became more likely that Liam wasn’t who he claimed he was. Olin wasn’t about to accidentally piss off the wrong person, however. He would have to discern the truth without drawing suspicion.
“When do we leave?” Liam asked.
“When the caravan’s ready,” Olin answered. “Is there anything you need to do before that?”
“No.”
The corner of Olin’s mouth tightened. He was hoping that the kid would expose himself in some way before leaving.
Wait. If we leave and the real agent shows up...
He placed a hand on Hench’s shoulder, pulling him aside.
“You need to stay behind.”
“Huh? Why?”
Olin sighed. The man wasn’t exactly an intellectual giant.
“Just in case another boy named Liam shows up.”Updated chapters on
“I don’t follow.”
“What’s wrong?” Liam called out to them.
“Nothing,” Olin said. “Just giving Hench some instructions. He’ll be staying behind. Gotta keep an eye out for tails.”
“I see.”
Do you, now? We’ll see about that.
There was no way that the Sorcerous Kingdom would send a kid. If they had, their agent was probably some sort of Demon that wore a young man’s skin. A monster like that was bound to give itself away through its inhuman behaviour.
After ensuring that Hench knew what he was supposed to do, Olin rejoined Liam, who was watching the caravan’s teamsters check over their wagons. Would a monster show interest in that kind of thing? Maybe he was sizing up the staff as food or playthings to torment.
“Mister Olin,” the Merchant leading the caravan, a well-fed woman by the name of Joan, said, “we’re just about ready to be on our way.”
“Got it,” Olin replied.
“They seem nervous,” Liam said.
“People always get excited before travelling. Merchants always have plenty to worry about.”
They were on the move fifteen minutes later, wagons rolling forward at walking speed. The youth walking alongside him spent an uncommon amount of time staring at his feet, ignoring the buildings of the border town as they left.
“What are you doing?” Olin asked.
“My job,” Liam answered.
Your job is staring at your feet?
The missive they had received from the Sorcerous Kingdom never said for what purpose the agent was being sent: only that the agent represented their interests. Those interests were undoubtedly rooted in unspeakable evil and certainly didn’t include staring at the ground.
“Olin.”
“Hm?”
He looked away from Liam to find that Joan had dropped back from the lead wagon to speak with him. Olin did his best to keep his lip from curling at the sight of the woman’s waggling chin.
“Our agreement still stands, yes?” Joan asked.
“Yeah,” Olin answered. “Why do you ask?”
“The higher-ups in my company are becoming worried that things might have changed with everything that’s been happening.”
“Not that I know of,” Olin shrugged.
The Merchant settled into an uncomfortable silence, returning to the front of the caravan. Going by the woman’s behaviour, she was expecting something to happen.
“Which company does she work for?” Liam asked.
“Speckled Mare,” Olin answered.
“As in one of the Great Merchants?”
“The same. They’re based in the capital, but they’ve been operating in the Azerlisian Marches for decades now.”
“So were they there first, or you?”
“What does it matter?” Olin laughed, “We’re not like the Nobles who think their ‘history’ is worth a damn. What matters is who is in control now...and that’s us.”
“What do the Nobles have to say about that?” Liam asked.
“They can say whatever they want,” Olin answered. “But if they get in the way, then...well, let’s just say they’re not so great at being ‘stewards of the land’ like they claim they are.”
Olin gauged Liam’s reaction to his response. The youth was concealing his feelings on the matter behind an uncaring mask, but Olin had a feeling that he didn’t like what he had heard.
As I expected. This kid is probably a spy.
There weren’t many powers in the region that might be able to challenge the Sorcerous Kingdom. In the northwest, there was the Argland Confederation, but it was a country that stayed mostly aloof when it came to regional events. That left the Slane Theocracy in the southeast, and, given their religion’s concern over the well-being of humanity, it made the Theocracy the most likely country that Liam worked for. Given Liam’s apparent skill, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he was a member of the Windflower Scripture.
What could he do with that information? Would he be rewarded by Lady Albedo for exposing a Theocracy spy? Or would he be punished for potentially exposing the Sorcerous Kingdom’s activities in Re-Estize? He rested a hand over his churning stomach as he agonised over his options. If he chose poorly, he would surely be subjected to that pitch-black hell again.
It didn’t take long for Olin to get a read on Lady Albedo’s personality. The Demon was so arrogant and assured of her superiority over everyone that she didn’t even bother hiding it.
Simply put, she was a power monger. Like any power monger, she desired as much direct control as possible. Authority, influence, and wealth were doled out in a miserly fashion, ensuring that her minions remained permanently bound to and dependent on her. When it came to their operations, she doled out tasks in such a way that no single person under her could understand the big picture.
Lady Albedo’s reliance on the Eight Fingers in Re-Estize made it easy for Olin to gather many pieces of the puzzle, however. Every division of the syndicate had been ordered to cease the expansion of its criminal activities. Instead, they were to consolidate their assets and invest in legitimate ventures. They did everything from securing grain contracts and building mills to purchasing mines and warehouses. Additionally, this shift in operations was facilitated by a faction of foolish scions whose blind hunger for political influence allowed the Eight Fingers to grow at an unprecedented rate.
He was confused as to why their new activities only seemed to deal in basic commodities until he found out that they were also sneaking Undead into Re-Estize. While a few of them were powerful horrors meant to fill in for the now-defunct Six Arms, most served as menial labour. Slowly, but surely, an Undead infestation grew out of the notice of the Kingdom at large, replacing its people with slaves that never grew tired and only hungered for the souls of the living.
For Olin’s part, he didn’t care about the fate of Re-Estize. All that mattered was that he ended up as close to the top as he could manage. Being made the overseer of a former duchy on the coast would be ideal. To do so, he would have to distinguish himself from the other syndicate leaders who surely shared similar ambitions.
He rejoined Liam after sorting out what he needed to do next. The youth hadn’t missed him at all, never mind suspected that anything was amiss. When they arrived at the next town – the aforementioned Middle Harbour – Olin set his plans into motion.
“That inn over there is where we’ll be staying,” he pointed at the largest establishment along the town’s high street after they passed through the gate. “The Crooked Axle. Do you need any special arrangements?”
“I’m good,” Liam said. “I won’t have any problems if I take a look around town, right?”
“None at all,” Olin smiled. “Feel free to do whatever you need to.”
Olin rushed over to the town’s waterfront after parting ways with the Theocracy spy, finding Louis and his men unloading the wagons into a half-empty warehouse.
“He’s on the move,” Olin said. “You find the Windflower agents yet?”
“We just got here,” Louis replied. “Unless I’ve gone crazy, you entered the southern gate right along with us five minutes ago.”
“That is more important than this!” Olin hissed, “The cargo isn’t going anywhere; our mark is acting now.”
Maybe the man was part Ogre, after all. Blumrush’s territory was filled with incompetents. He would need to fix that at some point. The last thing he needed was someone making him look bad in the eyes of Lady Albedo.
“Make sure you get messengers ahead of us,” Olin told Louis. “I want things taken care of before this guy gets anywhere.”
The big man turned and left with a nod and a grunt. Provided Liam didn’t suddenly decide to steal off into the night, that would be the last of Olin’s woes for the time being.
Now, where did that brat go...
He returned to the town’s high street, finding the spy not very far from where he had left him. To Olin’s astonishment, Liam was chatting with a Priestess in front of the tiny chapel that served as the Temple of the Six for the area’s few followers.
How much more obvious can you get?
A spy from the Theocracy openly frequenting an affiliated temple. He may as well have held up a sign over his head declaring who he was. Olin waited in the shadows until Liam left the temple, falling into step beside him several buildings up the street.
“Enjoying yourself?” Olin asked.
“I’m working,” Liam answered.
I’m sure you are...
“Well, I should show you to your room before you get too into it,” Olin said.
“Alright.”
If he could tie the boy up for an hour or so, it would be more than enough time for Louis to take care of all the loose ends in the town. After walking past a row of refineries, they arrived at the entrance of the Crooked Axle. Olin grinned despite himself as he came in from the cool autumn evening, feeling the smoky warmth of the inn’s tavern seep into his bones. The aroma of ale and hearty meals washed over them as a smiling barmaid came over to receive them.
“What’s for supper?” Olin asked.
“Baked trout and lentil stew with rye bread and steamed fiddleheads,” the barmaid answered. “There anyone else on the way?”
“It’s just the two of us for now,” Olin replied. “We’ll take our seats in the back.”
The barmaid’s smile wavered for a heartbeat before she turned and led them to a section of the tavern divided from the rest. Several men looked up from their seats as they entered, their gazes on Liam as he followed Olin to a long table near a well-stocked fireplace along the far wall. The barmaid’s smile had fallen off entirely by the time they seated themselves.
“Dinner sounds good,” Olin said. “How about it, Liam? We should eat up while it’s hot.”
“Sure.”
“Ale for me and the boys, as well,” Olin added.
Once the barmaid disappeared into the kitchen, the men scattered across the seats nearby converged on their table.
“Olin,” one of them nodded. “Long time no see.”
“I’d never come back if I made it big in the capital,” another added.
“I’m accompanying an important guest,” Olin replied, then gestured to the spy. “This here’s Liam. Be sure to keep a close eye on him.”
The men around the table introduced themselves. One of them, a not-too-bright fellow by the name of Reed, inevitably asked the question that was probably on everyone’s mind.
“So, Liam,” he said, “what are you doing up in these parts?”
“Just seeing how things have been going,” Liam replied. “It’s my first job here.”
Everyone nodded in understanding at his stupidly vague answer. Olin was content to enjoy his meal while the other men did most of the talking.
“So you all know Olin?” Liam asked.
“Most of us regulars do,” Reed answered. “He’s a woodsman’s get like me.”
“Are you all frontiersmen?” Liam asked.
The men shared an amused chuckle.
“Around here,” Reed told the boy, “everything not directly off of the highway is the ‘frontier’. Only about half of us are woodsmen, though. The rest are from mining villages.”
“But this land has been settled for almost two centuries, hasn’t it?” The youth’s confusion was plain, “How can most of it still be a frontier after all that time?”
“If you’re here to take a look around, you’ll see soon enough.”
“In that case, I’ll be in your care. We can get started early tomorrow morning.”
None of the men voiced any protest to his words. They were content to drink the night away, after all. As the evening wore on and the group continued chatting, Olin somewhat regretted his decision to be so passive in the discussion. It started to feel like the men were warming up to Liam. He couldn’t allow a threat to his influence to go on like that, so it would probably be a good idea to get rid of him sooner rather than later. The Azerlisian Marches had plenty of abandoned mineshafts to dump his corpse into.
Once Liam was done for the night, Olin brought him to the guest room on the second floor of the inn. Like the tavern below, a portion of the building had been set aside for the exclusive use of the Eight Fingers, effectively making it their base in the Middle Harbour. As the spy dumped his belongings on the bed and rummaged through them, Olin weighed his chances against him in a fight. As expected from a Theocracy agent, he felt quite strong. A dagger in the back might not slow him down at all.
Maybe I could have his breakfast poisoned? Or we could just gang up on him once we’re out in the bush...
The latter felt unsound, especially given how the men had warmed up to Liam. In any case, the more people who were in on a conspiracy, the harder it was to keep it a secret.
There were more than a few poisonous plants in the area and he would be able to forage a sufficient quantity of them before dawn. None of them were especially potent, so the Theocracy spy would probably die a slow and agonising death. Maybe the Sorcerous Kingdom would appreciate that touch.
When his focus returned to Liam, the youth was placing a set of leather scrollcases on the room’s small table. Olin frowned slightly as he came closer to inspect them.
“What are those?” He asked.
“My work,” Liam answered. “Intelligence assessments, mostly. Could you please get these to the post office in Feoh Berkana? The staff there will know what to do with them. Oh–I could use another stack of paper, too.”
Feoh Berkana?
“What are you talking abou–”
Olin froze as a shadowy claw reached out from the underside of his arm and retrieved the scroll cases one by one. He couldn’t take his shocked gaze off the unsettling sight until the table’s contents were cleared and the claw vanished. He felt his forearm up and down, but there was no sign of the apparition that had emerged from it.
“Wh-Wh-What the hell was that?!” He barely managed in a hoarse voice.
“A Shadow Demon,” Liam yawned. “He’ll be back before we get going tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning.”