Chronicles of Vyrdos Ch. 01

"Down to business. You're lucky indeed, our imperial guarantee excuses you from the testing free applicants must go through. The tests conclude today. I suspect the imperial battle clerics don't expect much from the merchant's guild in terms of fighting acumen. Some old merchant's guard with no training. I can't wait to see the look on their faces. Ha!"

Gammroh's hands curled into thick fists and pounded his desk once for emphasis. Although past middle age now, it was easy to see how formidable he would have been as a younger man. His fists and wrists were a third larger than Ramis', although he was several inches shorter.

"Regardless of intent, Ramis, you've managed to completely escape notice thus far. None of the opposing spotters have any notion of your existence, since you haven't participated in the tests. I aim to keep it that way. I know that Jasper would approve."

"Here's what we're going to do. You'll stay at the merchant's guest residence here on Merchant's Boulevard. You will stay out of sight and out of mind until commencement tomorrow, where we will introduce the empire to your style."

Ramis received the keys to the residence from his uncle, who then excused himself regretfully to attend to the throng downstairs. He reunited with Jasper on the steps of the guild headquarters outside, after fighting his way through the crowd one more time.

The residence was close to the headquarters, but tucked away in a discreet cul-de-sac away from the main boulevard. Ramis and Jasper partook of a light supper from the well-stocked larder before sitting beneath the balcony porch underneath the night sky. The main boulevard still bustled with activity under the lamps the lamplighters lit nightly. The merchant's part of Ramis' mind idly wondered who had the contract for the city's lamp oil. It must be worth a fortune.

Jasper lit up his pipe and puffed away contentedly, bare feet outstretched on the divan. "I thought we were possibly done for at the fords. That water was thick, and deep."

"Nah. There's always someone willing to make a deal to transport the desperate. The only good fortune was that I didn't get skewered by a manure fork at that farm. And that we had any citrines and goods left to make a deal with to keep our cover."

"Ha. Scion of the proud merchant's guild, ready to debut his signature windmill blade style, skewered by an angry farmer. Not the stuff that poets write about.

"Well, it's entertaining you. Maybe they should start."

"Maybe they should, master. Maybe they should."