WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Dionysus
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◈ The Wizard's Memoir ◈
Chapter 28: Ashes
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Dealing with the aftermath of a battle was as tricky as the battle itself.
Olivia's party collected the loot and dealt with the bodies according to procedure. Since this hadn't happened deep in a forest or some remote mountain valley, they couldn't simply brush it aside.
They explained the circumstances to the guards and had their actions recognized as self-defense. Normally, this would have involved a very complicated process, but special instructions from the lord's deputy and the fact that the dead were blue-tattooed barbarians made things relatively simple. The dark elf, however, was a headache.
“The reward was a hundred thousand dena for bringing the culprit in alive, or thirty thousand for bringing evidence.”
“There's your evidence! The dark elf our mage told you about!”
The administrator stroked their goatee and made an ominous sound. “Hmm...”
It was a headless corpse. The most important piece of evidence had fallen into the depths of the underground lake and was impossible to find. The thin body and gray skin did look like a dark elf's, but it wasn't a race anyone saw often enough to be certain.
“Why did you bring it back in this state?”
“I told you, they cut their own head off!”
“...You expect me to believe that?”
The administrator lacked the imagination to accept the claim that someone had beheaded themself. With the added claim that the severed head had rolled into a lake and couldn't be found, suspicion was practically a duty.
“Even if I grant that this is a dark elf, we still don't know whether it's the dark elf who murdered the margrave.”
“Grrrr...! You were planning to cheat us from the start!”
Olivia's party weren't timid souls who would quietly give up what they were owed. They protested fiercely. The lord's deputy and the administrative officials wrestled with the problem.
Even without a head, the body did look like a dark elf's. Since members of that race were hardly a common sight in a human city, they couldn't dismiss the adventurers' claims. After much deliberation, the lord's deputy decided to classify it as an open case.
“What's an open case?”
“They can't be certain this was the culprit, and even if it was, they don't know who was behind it. So they won't close the investigation.”
In this instance, it meant lifting emergency measures such as the city lockdown while declaring that they would hunt down and wipe out the forces behind the margrave's assassination.
“Then what about the reward? Our dena?”
“They say they'll handle it the Guild's way and pay us just ten thousand dena.”
“That's a tenth!”
“A third, since we didn't capture the culprit alive.”
They had won a considerable concession with a single headless corpse. It was a gesture of consideration toward the Guild and the count palatine's family, even if the greedy halfling didn't agree.
If they wanted the remaining twenty thousand dena, they would have to find proof that the dark elf was the culprit. That meant uncovering the assassin's purpose or the forces behind them. It wouldn't be easy, so they weren't going to bother. Now that the gates were open, they had no reason to.
Missing out on the full reward was disappointing, but a tidy bit of extra income soothed their feelings.
Had the battle taken place in some remote wilderness, they would have tearfully abandoned the heavy iron armor. Since it had happened right beneath the city, however, they had brought back everything down to the last dagger and sold it all. The quality wasn't particularly good, but iron was iron. They settled on two thousand dena.
“Why did you keep that?”
“To use it.”
“That weird thing?”
There was one piece of loot they hadn't sold: the shotel, the oddly shaped sword the dark elf had used at the end.
Dahlia turned it over in their hands. It was a short sword for a human, but it could pass for a longsword in a halfling's hands.
“I don't know what it's made of, but it's really light. The edge is incredibly sharp, too. It's much too good to just sell.”
When a halfling said something was too good to sell, it was the real thing.
Olivia worried that its unusual shape would make it hard to use, but Dahlia proved its worth with their usual dexterity. The halfling swung it nimbly, reversing its direction, then twirled it along the back of the blade and caught it by the handle. It was exactly the sort of trick that would cost someone as clumsy as Etran a wrist.
“Then let's leave that out and divide the rest.”
Their total income was twelve thousand dena.
They might grumble about unfair treatment, being underpaid, and getting swindled, but the job had still earned them more than selling an entire copper golem. They set aside six thousand dena for the party fund and divided the remaining six thousand into five shares.
“Why five?”
Everyone looked at Merial. The elf wasn't a party member, but between guiding them and casting Silence, Merial had played too large a role to leave out. Each person received twelve hundred dena. Etran was delighted to see his wealth double.
“And you're a rich boy...”
“I keep telling you, I'm not rich.”
“Oh, please! Even if you're penniless right now, you're rich if you've got someone to fall back on!”
He had no answer to that. For an adventurer, having a home to return to at any time was an enormous asset.
The party fund now held fourteen thousand dena.
That was too much to carry in silver coins, so they exchanged it for gold coins worth ten flona, or a thousand dena, each. The sight of all those broad grins was truly nauseating.
“It's still party money. Capital to help us rake in even more.”
“On that subject, there's something I mentioned before...”
“A mule?”
With this much capital, they could surely buy one of the healthiest, best-bred mules in Northern Ridge. Olivia and Dahlia danced with joy.
“Should we buy two? Three?”
“We could all have our own rides!”
Just then, Etran turned to the elf, who stood quietly nearby.
“What will you do now, Merial? If you'd like...”
He cautiously asked whether Merial might join their party. With their command of spirits and powerful spells, the elf was more capable than most practicing mages, even those with the title of Mage. Merial would be a great help as a companion. The former mercenary also turned with an expectant look, but the elf mage held out a hand in refusal.
“I have something to do.”
“Is it the Hero's sacred relic?”
“Yes. That's right.”
Merial had reacted sharply to the subject of the relic from their very first meeting. The elf looked at the humans and the halfling in turn, then gave a serious warning.
“This is a matter of great importance to you humans as well. Please remain vigilant.”
Olivia and Dahlia took it as the sort of advice old people often gave. Etran and Rolf tucked it away in a corner of their minds, but didn't think it concerned them personally. Still, they should have thought a little harder about what it meant for an elf to consider something important.
@
Olivia's party began spending in earnest.
They visited a weapons workshop recommended by the tavern keeper, had the hole in their shield patched, sharpened their blades, and replenished their quarrels with ones of the proper size.
Etran also got rid of his heavy robe and bought a roomy tunic. Perhaps because wool was a local specialty, the fabric was good. He was very pleased that it was comfortable even over his armor.
“You really should get a helmet, too...”
“No, thanks. Really, I mean it.”
They didn't forget the alchemist who had been such a great help with this job, either.
They visited Johannes, paid a small fee for the information, and asked for a large supply of medicine. They bought and labeled a whole set: medicine for cuts, burns, broken bones, high fevers, and more. In truth, they should have bought these long ago, but the cost and bulk had kept them from doing so.
“Can't you just sell one thing called a healing potion?”
“The world isn't that convenient.”
Having to cram everything into backpacks and haul them around was hardly convenient in the first place. Still, one ray of hope remained: the horse market.
In the pasture outside the north gate, owners led warhorses, riding horses, farm horses, ponies, and packhorses about as they bargained. Some animals were put up for auction, their prices climbing steeply. Some sold the moment they arrived at the market, while others remained unsold for over a month.
“Adventurers, are you? Come this way.”
Olivia's party, who looked like adventurers to anyone with eyes, were led to a corner of the market.
It might be called a horse market, but horses weren't the only animals for sale. There were calves, donkeys, and the adventurers' favorite, mules.
Some adventurers did keep horses, but they were very rare. The upkeep was enormous. A mule dealer approached Olivia's party, who didn't look particularly wealthy.
“I'd like to show you some animals in your price range. How much were you looking to spend?”
Everything from the dealer's appearance to their manner of speaking screamed swindler, but the party weren't suspicious. No merchant was bold enough to try anything while knowing they were dealing with adventurers. However good the kingdom's public order might be, it couldn't protect someone from a blade wielded by a person with nothing to lose.
“Ten thousand dena.”
“Ten thousand?! Well, aren't you big spenders!”
Mule prices varied considerably, though not as much as horse prices.
A mule over fifty and on its last legs might cost less than a thousand dena. For one around ten years old whose mother was a well-bred horse, the seller could name their price.
“How about this one? Strong teeth and sturdy hooves. Very gentle, too. Good for a beginner.”
Eeeeeek-ek!
Gentle or not, it apparently wouldn't tolerate having its gums exposed. It bit its owner.
“Y-you little beast! Let go! Let go of me! Someone help!”
Olivia's party enjoyed watching the desperate struggle between owner and livestock, then went to find another merchant.
“Well, now! Adventurers? You've come to the right place!”
After looking around several stalls, they found that the quality for the price was much the same everywhere. Each animal had at least a little temper, so first-time owners had to choose carefully. At least they had money to spare.
“I think this one's the best.”
“Me too.”
Olivia, Dahlia, and Etran all agreed on one mule. Its mane looked as though it had been dusted with fine ash, and its ears stood up in a rather cute V.
“This one just turned four. Born from a Catalia horse, the strongest breed of packhorse, and a Broad Mountains donkey, the cleverest of all donkeys.”
“What good is a mule's pedigree? It can't breed anyway.”
“But it'll live a long time. If you're going to keep it for years, you should get a good one.”
“Isn't it too young? Can it follow us through rough country?”
“Four is fully grown. And it's a hundred times better than an old one.”
They tried finding fault with one thing after another to bring down the price, but every attempt failed. Bargaining with a merchant was like gambling with a halfling. In the end, they surrendered and paid the asking price: a full sixty-five hundred dena.
“What's the name?”
“Paolo Zimmermann.”
“...I meant the mule.”
“My little girl called it Cutie.”
That was a weak name for a member of an adventuring party. Olivia's party put their heads together for an emergency meeting.
“Thunder Blade? Heart Breaker? Orphan Maker?”
“Cutie would be better than those.”
The party had many talents, but naming things wasn't one of them. They needed a name that was short, powerful, and captured the mule's defining traits.
They kept talking as they led the mule through the north gate toward the Guild Pub. A name that met all three conditions wasn't easy to find.
Etran looked up at the sun, which had already begun to set, then toward the eastern sky, where stars were starting to appear. Even after a fire had passed, something remained.
“I think Ash would be good.”
“Ash?”
“Ash.”
Ash became Olivia's party's fifth companion. If they had to assign the mule a role, it would be support, carrying their baggage.
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