A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands

Book 2: Chapter 37: Downtime

Let not hatred and anger rule you, but rather strategic thought and decisive action. In war, the root cause may not be mere animosity, but rather a clash of interests or ideology. For the most part, wars are nothing more than a means of negotiation between nation-states.

As a student of war, I seek to understand the objectives of both sides and to find the most effective way to achieve them. I do not allow myself to be swayed by emotions, for they can cloud judgment and hinder the ability to see the situation clearly.

The true art of war lies not in the destruction of one's enemy, but in the ability to achieve one's objectives with minimal loss of life and resources. To do so, one must be mindful, adaptable, and always seeking to improve one's strategy and tactics. For wars are won only when those objectives have been met, or lost when the cost of human lives or resources outweighs any and all possible gains.

In the end, I find it truly ironic that the only way to ensure swift peace is to fight a swifter war.

- The Principles of Conflict by General Damien de Savant circa 234 AC.

My build was coming along nicely. I had a large amount of Health and Stamina, which meant that I could weather most of the blows that found their way through my formidable armor. Between my high strength and Power Strike, I had a way of dealing with tougher opponents. All of this was supplemented by my magic, which was primarily support and curse-style spells that I could use in a limited fashion.

Talking with Ankhset, and reading through my primer, I just knew in my bones that my gifted ‘element’ was about more than simply rusting iron and rotting things. It represented something much deeper. Something more, if only I could get my head around the abstract concepts involved. The Drain spell, I felt, was a prime example of this. When I touched Abas Yar, the Beastmaster, I had taken something more than just his basic vitality. Learning more about magic gave me only more mysteries to unravel. Perhaps if I increased the level of my spells, I would gain more instinctual understanding of the whole thing?

The problem I still had with my build was one of range. I had some throwing daggers, but these were not really battlefield weapons, and they lacked the range and power afforded by a weapon like a bow.

I was half-engaged in a conversation about the Crows at breakfast as I was thinking about these things. Today’s morning meal consisted of small, thick pancakes served with salted fat and hot pepper. It would help power me through most of the morning.

“…uncle Gelgor. He’s really quite nice, he is,” commented Larynda between bites.

“You should not speak with your mouth full, it is unbecoming of a lady,” chided Cordelia, as she delicately picked at her food.

“What do you mean ‘uncle’?” I almost spluttered, genuinely surprised.

“Ol’ Ham, I mean Hamsa, used to send me off to get some stuff from Gelgor. You know, like ingredients and stuff and the like. He used to give me a few snacks every now and again. He sells almost anything, that Gelgor person. Nice person, too.” Larynda added between mouthfuls.

That the brat had deigned it unimportant to mention this little fact put me on edge. It changed nothing, however, as long as the fat man did not try to get in the way of my quest. Even if he did, it would be a simple matter of killing anyone that stood in my way. Still, I thought it best that Larynda avoid the Ravens as much as possible, and told her as much.

The part about selling almost anything certainly got my attention. Perhaps there would be a way to send some feelers out, not directly of course, to see if he had something I wanted. I needed to keep a low profile for a bit, after running around the camp like a loon. I was able to convince everyone that it was a form of training, which it certainly was. Most of the people had been surprised at first, but the greater number had been downright impressed with my display of physical endurance.

That aside, I still needed something, and I made my way to Laes’ tally wagon to possibly get him to find what I was looking for. A ranged weapon, preferably a crossbow.

As usual, I found him shouting out orders and writing down numbers on a board. Efficient was one of the words that truly described our Laes. Noticing me, he gestured for me to come over.

“Master Gilgamesh, to what do I owe the surprise?” he said, looking up for a moment.

Not wanting to take too much of his time, I quickly told him that I was looking to purchase a crossbow or similar weapon. He asked a few questions to get a more-detailed picture of what I was looking for. Rubbing his chin, he told me that he might have a piece lying about somewhere himself, but that

Gelgor was actually something of a weapons collector.

The sum total of my wealth was around four gold pieces, which I was told was more than enough to get a fine weapon. I specifically mentioned that I needed something that would be easy to use.

I had no choice but to use Laes as an intermediary. He was my only real contact, seemed a dependable and steady sort, and most importantly had treated me fairly, thus far. The caravan master promised to talk to his counterpart about getting me something at around three gold pieces or less. Gelgor was apparently more fond of gold than of his own collection.

Why was Laes being so accommodating? I connected the dots. The man wanted to stay in my good graces. It was a minor thing, this small favor that I would owe him in return, but these things had a tendency to grow much larger. With our business concluded, I went back to my section of the encampment.

The next day, the rains came on the wings of a cold wind. The darkness of the sky found us, blotting out the light of the midday sun. Then there was a torrent, a veritable deluge of water that fell from the skies. The rain beat relentlessly, with a continuous roar, against the giant oiled canvases that covered the camp.

Ankhset was called, and she and her family sat cross-legged on a mat in the center of the camp. Hand-in-hand, they began to chant a beguiling tune, and behind the notes of their song I heard the sounds of a faraway ocean. Weather warding, Laes explained to me. The family’s spell acted as a way to repel most of the water away from the camp and had to be recast every day to maintain its power. It was at times like this that Ankhset felt her call most strongly, commented the caravan master.

The deluge continued incessantly, and I could understand why Laes had chosen the hills to weather out the storm. Without the ward we would have been completely at the mercy of the storm, or so I was told. Life continued under the canvas, albeit muted, and the festive air had long gone, drowned out by the heavy sound of the relentless rain.

I spent some of the time with Catalina, both of us finding mutual comfort and shelter from the storm in each other’s arms. Even in the sorrow of the gods, happiness could be found.

One evening, she looked at me in the gloom and half-whispered to me with a smile, “Who are you, Gil?”

Looking at the ceiling, I smiled. “Here, I am Gilgamesh of Uruk.”

Her brow furrowed at my reply. “Here? Here implies a there, and I have never heard of a place called Uruk.”

“It is a place where men travel many miles in the belly of long snakes, and metal birds fly in the sky,” I chuckled to myself.

“You mock me? Or is this another one of your stories? Your words have more weight than you think, you should not play with others so,” she chided prettily and punched me playfully.

“If I were to tell you, you would not believe it. The wonders of my wor… land,” I replied wistfully, drawing her closer to me to silence her. She resisted, trying to push me away with a giggle, but soon yielded, and our lips met.

*

Once I was done, I started to chew some minty leaves to wash out the taste of her. The plant was called Payana Leaf, a common plant that the people here used as a form of dental hygiene. The Payana plant had some minor medicinal properties, and I found that, when ingested directly, restored a single Health point. More importantly, the herb stopped our mouths from smelling like a gutter. I would have much rather preferred some toothpaste and a good soft-bristled brush, but when in Rome…

I spat out the leaves into a bucket and looked down at her sleeping form. It almost made me believe that she was more than just another character in a game. Knowing that she was recently widowed, and needed the money, I left a few coins with her to help her out a bit.

Perhaps there would be a reward later if I kept improving my reputation with her. The rewards were certainly worthwhile, for the moment.

*

After one of the evening meals, Laes, and Khalam, of all people, came to find me. Khalam was carrying a small wooden case. I almost licked my lips in anticipation.

Laes looked at me with a smile and instructed the Guard Master to open the case. “I hope this meets your satisfaction.”

Khalam opened the case, revealing the weapon I had purchased with my hard-earned gold. It was a marvel of engineering, masterfully crafted from metal, horn, and wood. Taking it out of the case, he showed me the iron sights along the rail that would allow even an inexperienced user to line up shots more easily.

The Guard Master instructed me in his no-nonsense manner on the weapon’s use. The crossbow was also toolless, requiring no separate gaffe lever or windlass, and the limbs could be spanned and drawn taught by pulling a long lever along the bottom. The limbs were a composite of horn and wood, and were clamped in place. If necessary, this part of the weapon could be replaced and removed. It was, in essence, a small, but powerful self-cocking crossbow.

Cradling my weapon like it was a newborn child, I was more than happy to hand over the three gold pieces. “This was very much worth the money, and more. Thank you Laes,” I replied, in genuine thanks.

Khalam paused to study me. "That seems more like a noble's hunting tool than a genuine weapon of war," he observed. "It's practically a toy. A sturdy bow would be more beneficial to you." He straightened up, adding, "And remember, you're on duty in the next turn of the glass. It might be wise not to bring that with you. An unfamiliar weapon can often benefit the enemy more than oneself."

“As you say, Khalam. I will take those words to heart,” I answered him formally, doing my best to keep the frustration at being treated like a child out of my voice.

“Don’t worry, Khalam, sir. We’ll be keeping an eye on him to make sure he’s on time—don’t you worry!” Elwin decided to add, patting me on the shoulder and drawing an annoyed grunt from the older man.

Khalam gave me another pointed look before Laes bowed and took his leave, dragging his Guard Master with him.

“That one’s got the sense of humor of a brick,” quipped Elwin, and I found myself thoroughly in agreement.

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