There he could get a hot meal and see what news the soldiers of Crag Moor that were garrisoned there might have heard. If he were not so pressed for time, he would spend the night at the Blackwater Inn. A favorite resting spot for him whenever he came through here.
He smiled a little to himself. It also might have something to do with Lilly, the Innkeeper's daughter. Now she was a reason to spend the night. But sadly, he only had time to resupply and get a good meal.
As he reached the edge of the village, he motioned for Fang to stay out of sight. This close to the marsh and wilds of Agnar, the villagers would get a bit uptight at the sight of a two-hundred-pound wolf in their streets. Even if he was accompanied by a Thorn Caller.
Once he was sure, Fang was well hidden. Rone followed the marsh path that eventually turned into the old dirt road leading into the village.
It must have rained recently, as the way still had puddles of muddy water scattered about. Trapped in small pools where the wheels of wagons and supply carts, had created dips in the packed gravel.
Marshwatch was a dirty little town, but the folks who lived there were good, hardworking people. The houses were modest, made from the pines and cedars of the marsh. Then treated with coal oil and animal fat to prevent the wood from rotting with the summer rains.
Shingled roofs of fire-hardened clay covered the homes and the Inn. Leaving the only genuinely discerning building as the small fort-like structure the soldiers used as a barracks.
It was made of grey stone cut into mason blocks and covered by a thick redwood roof. For a village such as this, it seemed out of place. But it was a needed station, as the farmers would be plagued with Hobspawn and Drakeling raids if the soldiers weren’t here to protect them.
Now the farmlands of Crag Moor, the ones that stood between the village and the city. Those were a sight to see. Fields of golden wheat and corn, growing next to massive rows of vegetables or grapevines. And that was just this side of the city, the western side, held all the fruit Orchards and livestock farms.
It was no wonder they had garrisons placed in every corner. As food supplies like that are more than a little tempting to raiders or rival city kingdoms. A temptation that frequently ended up turning into skirmishes several times a year. But such is the life for a city-kingdom as prosperous as Crag Moor.
Rone was still admiring the well-kept fields as he entered the gates of the pinewood wall that surrounded the village. The guards nodded as he walked by and offered a good day.
Most won’t bother questioning a Thorn Caller, which they can tell by the medallion they wear pinned to their chest. The willow tree with a thorn vine encircling it. The ornament itself is little more than a trinket, but it does help identify them to those they meet.
Though Rone and a few of the others were well enough known in these parts anyway. Coming here a few times a month for supplies and trade. Most cities tolerate or even welcome the Thorn Callers without much hassle, as they tend to do their best to stay out of politics or the affairs of the kingdoms.
Preferring to stick with guardianship of the forests or villages that lay inside them regardless of who claims lordship over said forests. This makes the Thorn Callers seen by most as a valuable means of free security.
As he made his way through the town, he could hear the peddlers shouting their wares. Offering everything from weapons to fine silks made from the web of ley spiders. He stopped by a sweet’s peddlers’ wagon, purchased a spice roll, and headed on toward the inn.
The thought of a mug of chilled ale and a plate of honey glazed mutton. Made Rone’s mouth water with anticipation. He smiled as he thought how he had better remember to bring fang some back as well. The last time he forgot, and it took two weeks for the big wolf to forgive him.
He stepped up onto the low porch that ran down the length of the inn and opened the door. The music and laughter within quickly filled his ears as he stepped inside and headed for a seat at the counter.
He was barely there long enough to get his drink and order his food when a woman’s voice from behind him made him wince a little.
“And just where the hell have you been?” Came the familiar voice of Lilly Thistlebark, the lovely but fiery inn keeps daughter. Rone took a deep drink of his ale, then whirled around and put on his best smile.
“Lilly! So good to see you, love, what’s it been two or three months?” He asked, trying to sound apologetic.
“Nine! It’s been nine months, and you damn well know it.” Rone risked a look at Lilly’s father in hopes of some help, but the man just gave him a smile that told him he was in trouble and walked away.
“Lilly, I’m sorry, it’s been crazy in Agnar. Orc raids, Hobspawn, and now,” Before he could continue, she raised her hand up in front of his face. Letting him know she wasn’t listening.
“I don’t care if the devils of hell were beating on your door, you could at least send a raven once in a while.” Crap a raven; he had forgotten to send one to Briarthorn. He asked the inn keep to hold his plate and jumped up, surprising Lilly by kissing her on the cheek.
“Thanks, Lilly, you may have just saved my tail.
With that, he ran out into the street and headed for the garrison barracks, which is where the town's message carrier would be.
When he got there, he jotted the note telling Tobias of what he had seen at Grey ridge, paid the carrier for the raven then returned to the inn to get that meal. Upon returning to his bar stool, he heard Lilly call his name from across the room.
“Look, Rone; I’ve got a new fella. So, you can just forget about getting any more attention from me.” Rone turned to see her sitting in some stranger’s lap. A mercenary most likely, judging from his leather armor and the broadsword propped by his chair.
The stranger just shrugged with this look on his face like he was lost in this conversation. Rone smiled and nodded his head at him.
“That’s’ alright, Lilly, I understand,” he replied with a smile. Causing her to huff and get up, storming away towards the kitchen. Rone nodded again at the stranger and turned back to the bar, where the innkeeper had just sat his plate of food down, shook his head, and walked away.
He knew the next time he came, he had better bring her some of them Straggle berry flowers she always swooned over, or she would never let him live this down.
He finished his meal, paid for an extra plate to carry to Fang, then headed back out towards Crag Moor. Once outside the gate, a sharp whistle brought the big wolf trotting up to him from his hiding spot.
He rubbed his head, gave him the food, and started towards the city. They wouldn’t like Fang being there either. But he learned a long time ago his friend was too valuable an asset to be left outside.
He was great for deterring the unsavory types that walked the streets of Crag Moor. Pickpockets, thieves, and even the beggars stayed away when Fang was at his side.
Rone cursed under his breath when he suddenly realized the moon was already in the sky. Which meant it was getting late, and he would be forced to get a room in the city. He didn’t want to wait till morning, but he knew the mages of the tower never let anyone in after moonrise.
To many of their experiments took place at night. And if the mages of the Crimson Tower hated anything, it was to have their dealings interrupted after hours. He shook his head in silent thought at what a strange bunch they were.
Still, they knew more about lost magic than anyone. Well, except the LunaFae, and he was really hoping he wouldn’t have to ask them for help.
As they made their way across the vast wheat fields and rows of corn stalks. Fang decided to help the farmers out by chasing after the rabbits and ground squirrels that liked to sneak in to feed after nightfall.