Days later I was gazing down a mountain path at the city of Bruhle. I had thought Crossroads an impressive amount of people, but it was nothing compared to the thousands of people who lived in the independent City-State of Bruhle. Built so that it faced the entrance, or exit depending upon your point of view, of Fanghoof Pass it was curved like a horseshoe. The entire length of the city seemed to be incorporated into part of the Kohlburg Mountain range and part of its wall followed the Ulcite River that wound its way North into Czakovey.

  “We’re ahead of the Army,” Valka observed, his eyes scanning for signs of campfires and Czak scouts.

  “Plenty of Czak vessels on the river,” Anya said wistfully. I remembered her saying she had been born on a ship. I was having a hard time believing her that sailing upon the water was as wonderful as she made it sound when I asked her about it. What if one fell into the water and you couldn’t swim, as I could not?

  “Surprising they are still here,” Valka said. “Winter freezes the Ulcite solid all the way to the Sea. They’ll want to weigh anchor soon if they want to make it back to Bludgard before they get stuck here until the Spring.”

  “Here for the end of the Frostdance or the Eye ceremonies, perhaps,” Anya added. “Their festival is much like the Frostdance Festival in Bludgard if on a smaller scale.” Davros could hear a hint of sadness in Anya’s voice when she mentioned the Festival. Even Valka seemed a bit sad when she had mentioned it.

  “Aye,” he gruffly answered.

  They miss their home. I wonder what that feels like?

  We continued down the mountain pass at a steady pace. Valka wanted to sleep at an Inn he knew, despite the fact that he was no longer suffering the effects of the high mountain winds thanks to the Follower bond. Anya didn’t have to say it, but Valka could tell she was jealous of his additional comfort. He couldn’t help himself but to needle her a little over it.

  “We’ll get you warmed up in no time, Anya. Some hot noodles in poulet broth. Some ram stew in lemon vodka sauce.”

  “Stop it,” Anya growled and Valka chuckled. She hated both those dishes and Valka knew it. Czak cuisine had its charms, but it was an acquired taste that the half-elf had never fully learned to appreciate. She was more of a southern spices and fresh vegetable person. Still, even she could admit she was tired of trail rations.

  The Gates of Bruhle were open to allow traffic to enter and leave. They had not used the main path most traders used to travel through Fanghoof as they had needed to detour towards the Dungeon and back again. It made their journey longer, but the trade off was avoiding the known stomping grounds of the Slynt. When they finally descended down a side path they were able to join a well armed caravan on its way to the city.

  Davros was observing the wagons piled high with crates and sacks. Anya had filled him in on a quick explanation of how Bruhle was a trade hub for shipping goods into Czakovey and then onwards to the Elassian Isles or further East to the country of Dunmuar.

  “I imagine not too many merchants will be heading East as the Orc Horde is in that direction.” Anya mentioned.

  “Will the Orcs ever stop?” I asked. I had never seen an Orc, but Brutes were intimidating enough despite being smaller and not as fierce looking as a full blooded Orc.

  “Only when they receive a big enough beating from someone,” Valka offered. “The problem is that nobody actually wants to be the ones to deliver it. They are fierce opponents.”

  Orcs aside, the main concern currently for this caravan was the Slynt. Had Valka and Anya not been positively identified as Czaks, Davros wondered if he and especially Igvild who was eyed with a great deal of suspicion would have been shot by one of the dangerous looking guardsmen carrying crossbows.

  “Welly, I should be insulted they think I could be one ‘o the goat faces,” Igvild said with a sniff.

  “No, they just don’t like Dwarves here either,” Valka quipped.

  “Why don’t they like Dwarves? Are they not going to let him inside the city?” Once the caravan entered the queue of travelers outside the Gatehouse, we found ourselves waiting in line to be let into the city. Guards dressed in heavy armor were inspecting people and asking them questions before they were let through. I looked at these formidable looking men and women covered in steel. They did not seem the welcoming kind.

  “It’ll be fine, he’s with us,” Valka said. However, the Dwarf produced a floppy hat that covered his bald head completely and obscured much of his face. Without his beard, he might be mistaken for a very short human instead.

  “Never ye worry lad,” Igvild said with a wide grin. “Lots ‘o ways into human cities ye don’t know about. Human-made walls are always just fer show.” I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I pulled the hood of my new robe lower and raised the scarf over my nose and mouth. Now all one could see were my eyes. Valka had said it wasn’t necessary to hide my face as the gate guards would likely take someone with a face like mine for a harmless simpleton. I was still mulling over the statement wondering if he had been trying to reassure me or not.

  My worries were unfounded, however, as the guards spent little time on us after Valka exchanged a few words with them. We were waved through and I took my first steps into my first real city. I stared in amazement at how tall the buildings were and how many of them seemed to lean forward the higher they went. It made me wonder if people in the buildings on either side of the street could reach out and touch one another from the top most windows. So many people in different styles of clothing going this way and that. So many different races and so many different voices. So many smells, good and horrendous. Overwhelmed is too small a word for how I felt.

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  “The Inn I know is this way,” Valka said and he led us quickly down a side street that branched off into even narrower and darker passageways. It was all I could do to stay out of people’s way. I felt as if I was constantly walking in the wrong place and I received several nasty looks from people who were trying to get past me from behind or trying to get around me from the front.

  “You get used to it. All the people.” Anya said when she noticed me dance out of the way of an old Brute woman who looked like she was carrying her entire collection of clothing in a bag over her shoulder.

  “Watch it, Elf,” she grumbled. Was she talking to me? Anya heard it and chuckled.

  “It’s the robes. Elves will often cover their faces outside their own lands. It’s also the Orc incursion in the East. It’s pushing everyone North and West. Lots more people here than usual and plenty more refugees likely still coming.”

  “They won’t find succor here,” Valka scoffed at a family of down on their luck beast folk who were huddling together in an alleyway begging for coins. I marveled at what I saw growing from their heads. They had ears like rabbits! “Burgomeister Ogham is probably hoping they’ll all leave on their own if he just ignores them.”

  Several people, including more homeless refugees were loitering outside the White Ram Inn Valka led them too. Davros saw several hands outstretched to passerby and lots of desperate looks. Had he any coin, he would have given it to them. He knew what it was like to be hungry and cold. Valka ignored every hand and marched through the door of the Inn. With night falling, the temperature this far north would be below freezing in minutes.

  “Please, kind sir. My children haven’t eaten for days. We lost everything when Torscow burned. Please!” A woman snagged a part of his robe and he looked down at her.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have any coin,” Davros said sincerely. The dirty woman’s face twisted into a scowl.

  “Fancy robes like that and you’ve no coin?” She sneered and I drew back in alarm at her sudden change in tone.

  “C’mon, Davros.” Anya said, swatting the woman’s hand away and dragging him inside.

  “I wish I could help that woman,” he whispered.

  “You can’t save everyone, Davros.” Anya said, shaking her head. “The best thing for these people is that the Orcs either become satisfied with the amount of loot they’ve stolen and the destruction they’ve wrought and go home. That or someone fields an army and drives them back like always. Then all these folk can go home and build again.

  Would they all just go home? Most of them look like they couldn’t possibly take another step. I wish I could help them. Maybe the Graf will help them after he gets his homeland back?

  Davros kept his thoughts to himself and sat down at a table in between Igvild and Anya while Valka went to talk to a large, gruff looking man behind the taproom bar. When Valka returned, he was frowning.

  “I’ve good news and bad news. The good news is that they have rooms for us here. Also, a messenger from Captain Yentz has left a message here for us,” he waved a sealed scroll case with the Graf’s personal seal upon it. “The Captain remembered that I always stay at the Ram when I’m in Bruhle. How sweet of him. The bad news is that those Czak ships we saw? They’re still here, because envoys of Friedrich are trying to convince the Burgomeister to turn away our army when it arrives. According to Yentz’s letter, the army will arrive on this side of the Pass a week from today!”

  “What else does he say?” Anya asked. Valka grinned.

  “He says we better have something good to tell the General when they arrive.” Valka snorted and turned to me. “Tonight, we drink and take our rest. Both you and I need to advance our Levels before we sleep tonight, Davros. We’ll need all the advantages we can get. Then, tomorrow we need to try and gain an audience with Burgomeister Ogham. Someone needs to remind that Ogre blooded coin counter that Friedrich is an usurper and it is in his best interest to help resupply and host the Liberation Army until the Spring thaw.”

  “That’ll be hard to do with the city fit to bursting with all these refugees. An Army of a thousand Czaks on top of that?” Anya shook her head, but Valka snorted.

  “You’re forgetting all the mercenary companies that are here looking for work. Bored Mercenaries aren’t known for their peaceful coexistence with locals. We’ll get them out of Ogham’s lice-ridden hair. That should help tip the scales in our favor!”

  Igvild and I listened to Valka and Anya go back and forth, making plans and discussing strategy until Igvild finally couldn’t take it anymore and loudly called for a barmaid to ‘Bring me the biggest jar of Vodka ye got!’ Rather than get angry, Valka laughed and called for the same. Anya ordered us food, which when it came was an assortment of hot rolls, enormous sausages, crisp lettuce topped with with a strange fruit called a tomato that I fell in love with and, of course, plenty of the local Vodka. I mostly stuck to water, but did try a drink Anya seemed to enjoy called Limoncello imported from the Elassian Elves that wasn’t bad.

  The food was wonderful and I basked in the camaraderie I found with my three friends. It wasn’t long before both Valka and Igvild were roaring drunk. Well, at least Valka was. I couldn’t help but sense that Igvild wasn’t as drunk as he seemed, but both of them stumbled upstairs to bed leaving Anya and I alone.

  “You seem upset. Are you still thinking about the refugees?” she asked me. I nodded.

  “I know what it’s like to always be hungry and cold. If I hadn’t Awakened, I still would be. Or dead, I suppose.” Anya slowly nodded.

  “The Graf may be able to do something for them eventually.” She leaned forward towards me and I swallowed nervously to have her face so close to mine. “The Graf has far reaching plans. Burgomeister Ogham won’t always be the one calling the shots here. Bruhle was once a part of Czakovey, but became independent after a treaty was signed a century ago. The Graf will want to renegotiate that Treaty after he retakes Bludgard.” I shrugged. More politics didn’t interest me.

  “Well anyway, we’ll have a week mostly to ourselves,” Anya said as she leaned back again in her chair with a sigh. I also started breathing normally again. I could smell the Limoncello on her breath and I couldn’t stop staring at her lips. “I’d say you should explore the city a bit, but with a Focus as low as yours, you might get lost. I know of a…woman…here who might be able to help you with that bizarre debuff you’re carrying around.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant Anya.” Anya laughed. Such a delightful sound! I smiled and shyly lowered my scarf so I could take a sip of the Elvish liquor. Was it making me braver? Nobody in the Inn seemed to care what I looked like, so far. Did Anya no longer care either?

  “It’s Anya, Davros. We have shed blood together and come out the other side of a Dungeon. I didn’t mention it to Valka, but I will surprise him with it tomorrow. I also gained a level in the dungeon!” My eyes widened.

  “That’s wonderful!” She nodded and tipped back the rest of her Limoncello. She had kept her drinking to a minimum, but her eyes were a bit glassier than normal.

  “Well, I’m to bed. The White Ram isn’t the best Inn Bruhle has, but it’s better than most and only slightly drafty. Good thing I’ve an extra blanket.” She stood and stretched. I hesitated, then tentatively asked her the question that had been swimming in my head all evening.

  “Anya, if it ever becomes possible, would you ever consider…” The half-elf raised an eyebrow and I managed to force out the rest of my question. “…becoming my Follower as well? At the very least, you wouldn’t have to worry about the cold!” I quickly added.

  She looked at me strangely for a moment, trying to decide if I was being serious or not. I felt a pressure building in my stomach that I hoped didn’t herald the approach of any unplanned fire. It disappeared a moment after when Anya’s lips turned upward in a smile. I decided I would face Garnak again alone a thousand times if the Lieutenant would only smile at me like that forever.

  “Trust can be hard to find in the Withered Lands. You aren’t the first Awakened to ask me that, you know? If only more Awakened had the desire to do what is right instead of chasing the most expedient path to power. Perhaps the Age of Heroes might come again?” Anya stood up and walked upstairs to her room without a backward glance.

  I sat there alone for another minute, pondering her words.

  She didn’t say no.

  I finished my drink, then a whole mug of water and walked upstairs to my own room. It was time to advance my Level.