#He has hair to me it’s short and spiky and dirt brown in colour. and full of dandruff if you will .

[ask-unita-speciale]

L’unità Speciale…Going fishing! (For carne and notorious chase in the Tyrrhenian Sea)

(Version without text cause I think it’s neater without my shitty handwriting)

[rawcatlawnchair]

CHAPTER 10 - TRIXI

The great plains were a welcome change of scenery, or so Trixi had thought at first. Gone were the trees, the humid air and the critters that refused to go silent, but in its place had come endless miles of farmland and far too many rolling hills for his liking. As it evidently turned out, too much of any one thing was always a bad thing.

As they had exited the forests, the paths had become wider, so now the four of them walked roughly abreast, no longer limited to the single files of the dirt paths behind them. Out here, roads were indicated by real fences rather than the treelines, and they looked far more well-worn than the highway that they had abandoned.

“These marks are fresh.” Trixi knelt down to touch the road, observing two long indents in the road, indicative of a caravan train passing through. Small portions of dirt had been kicked up, possibly from horses pulling carts. “Maybe half a day old, or even newer.”

“How can you tell?” Jirei knelt down next to him, staring at the soil. ”What do you see?”

“It’s his smell, not his sight,” came Ruzuli from the side, leaning against a fence and drinking out of her flask. She stood on one leg, propping the other up on the fence, looking as casual as possible. She pointed to the side of the road, and Trixi watched Jirei’s face turn from curiosity to disgust, as her gaze met a steaming pile of dung, complete with straw sticking out of it and the unmistakable smell of fetid waste. She hastily turned away, much to the amusement of the dragonling. Trixi almost felt bad. Finding out what happened required an analysis of all factors, and sometimes those factors were unsightly.

Octavia clapped her hands and cleared her throat loudly, bringing their attention over to her. She pointed out the sun, still hanging high in the air. “We’re approaching the solstice, so the days are getting longer. We should use the light while we still can.” A chorus of nods confirmed she was making the right choice, and before long, Trixi joined his team, walking side by side as they progressed through the endless grassy plains.

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The setting sun coated the fields with a warm orange light, illuminating the wheat stalks and wild grasses alike, with a lone hill breaking up the monotony of the flat sprawling lands. And at the peak of the hill sat four individuals, lying prone in the tall grass, staring at a circle of caravans parked in a grass patch by the road. They lacked a spyglass, so to scout out the men below they would have to rely on their natural senses. With their naked eyes, they could make out some horses grazing, and a campfire already made, but could make out little else. As small grey wisps floated above the makeshift camp, they deliberated their next moves.

“Caravans painted red, white and green. Council colours. Probably official business,” Jirei reported from her spot in the grass.

Trixi stood up and brushed off some spiky seeds that had jabbed themselves into his jacket. “Should we approach them?”

“I say we do,” said Octavia. “They might know something about the happenings around the country that we don't. We're going into Shuyong blind, and I'm not a huge fan of that.”

“I say we don't,” countered Ruzuli. “You know the goblin bandits are coming from the east, don't you? For all you know it could be a trap!”

“Or it could prove immensely useful.”

The two briefly debated before Jirei broke them up. Trixi was honestly amazed at how fast she got them both to settle down and plan a tactical middle ground.

They decided to approach them, but with a fair amount of caution, and before the sun went down. They wouldn't brandish their weapons, or blatantly prepare for a fight, but they would keep on edge as they walked down the dirt road, eyes peeled for any dangers. They were just metres away from the ring of caravans when someone stepped out from behind one of them.

“Halt!” The word both relieved and surprised them, as they slowed to a standstill to meet the elvish guard that stood before them. Dressed in reds and greens, his chain mail almost glowed against the setting sun. He held his pike firmly planted in the ground, but Trixi knew from the way he wielded it that he could strike with it in a heartbeat. “State your purpose!”

Jirei stepped forward to act as their representative. “We are just travelers, and we mean you no harm.” She removed her hood, revealing her Elf features. “Headed to Shuyong, just like the rest of you.”

The guard removed his helmet, setting his short black hair free. He bowed once and began to speak, although it seemed like he only wished to address his kin. “My name is Feng, and I'm in charge of guarding this caravan train. It's brave of you to be travelling so far in these treacherous times,” pausing to flash a wary stare at the other three, before continuing, “Especially with foreigners.”

“Mercenary?” Ruzuli butted in, clearly displeased.

“I prefer the term ‘security expert’.” His response was bland and flat, a far cry from the amicable expression he had given Jirei.

Trixi didn't like his gruff expression, nor his arrogance. He had known elves were a proud people, but never to the extent of blatantly looking down on others. He much preferred the elves back in the Chalice, where forced interaction between the numerous races of the continent quickly knocked down elves like him down a couple of pegs.

Feng turned back to the circle of caravans, pointing at a large pot in the center. “Help yourself, we've got plenty of food. You're welcome to stay, and it's safer in numbers anyway.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.” Jirei was clearly uncomfortable too, fidgeting about, unhappy about her teammates treatment. But she remained composed, bowing in respect. Ever the diplomat, he thought, remaining silent for the time being. “We will not forget this gesture.”

“Just watch yourselves around here,” he warned. “I might not mind outsiders too much, but there are some with far more...radical views on what to do with your kind. The passengers might be merchants, but they’ll end you in a heartbeat if you so much as look at them the wrong way. We’re far from the cities; out here no one cares if one or two people go missing.”

As Feng boldly strode away, Jirei immediately hung her head in shame. “I apologise,” she mumbled. “Not all of us are like him. They spend so long within the walls of the Alliance, they forget the rest of the world exists.”

“Do not hang your head in shame, Jirei.” Ruzuli had placed a hand on her shoulder. “Raise it in pride instead. Be proud that you are not like him.”

“I, u-uh,” Jirei stammered, not quite sure how to respond, taking a few moments to think. “Thanks?”

“We should be the ones thanking you. You're ten times the elf he'll ever be.”

Trixi watched as the red flushed in in an instant, standing out against her light brown skin, and she looked down once more, this time in embarrassment rather than shame. But even as she looked down, the smallest of smiles seeped across her face.

As they walked over to the large pot, they were greeted by a lone dwarf, sitting on a wooden stool. Trixi was secretly glad to have met someone shorter than he was, and greeted him back.

“Rare to see this many foreigners this deep into the Alliance.” The dwarf cradled a small wooden bowl, filled with a savoury stew, complete with chunks of carrots and potatoes.

“Rarer still to see one traveling with elves, no?” Trixi sat down next to him and retrieved his own bowl. Apart from him, everyone else had already begun to scoop their own portions.

“Ah, but they need me. Special talents mean I get special treatment.”

“And what would that talent be?”

He motioned for Trixi to lean in, and whispered, “Guns.”

Trixi didn't know what that word meant, but he was sure it sounded mysterious. “What’s a gun?”

He shook his head and muttered something about how he knew they should have changed the name. “Handcannons,” he explained. “Imagine half the explosive power of a cannon, fitting in your hand, with a fraction of the weight and cost. I'll be bringing the very first shipment of these new weapons all the way to Shuyong. I'd show you one, but its secret and confidential.”

“And you are?”

“Harlin,” he said. “Master Inventor and head of the Dwarven Armoury.” Master Kris might have discovered the formula for creating whitepowder many years ago, but it had been the dwarves who had pushed it to its maximum potential. Their penchant for mass production had lead to widespread usage of their various inventions. While two decades ago cannons were only seen aboard dwarven vessels, now they were a staple of defensive strategies, mounted on ships and castle walls alike all over the continent. Only the Chalice held out, refusing to install the revolutionary weaponry.

“I'm Trixi, and my team's headed to Shuyong to do some adventuring. Some artifact to be retrieved.” Trixi had scooped some soup for himself and had hastily slurped it down. After eating cold dry rations for a week, the hot food was a welcome change.

They traded tales of their homelands, of the contraptions they had once made, eating together as the sun set behind the hills, exchanging places with the moon.

“So, how long has your party been on the road?” Trixi managed to get the words out while finishing off his third bowl of soup.

Harlin’s eyes skirted to the left and right, before dropping to a whisper. “Truth be told, we've been traveling two weeks, but we haven't moved from here in three days.”

“Oh?”

“You can say that again. The one that’s in charge? He don't want to cross the Citrasa. Something about goblins.”

“Goblins?” Trixi knew that there were goblins to the east, but nothing too threatening. They could barely rob a couple of travelers, let alone a large caravan train with a good number armed guards.

“Goblins indeed. Personally, I think he’s just paranoid. Whatever the case, we've got to make it to Shuyong by the solstice, or we'll miss out on the Festival of Ava. So goblins or not, we'll be leaving in the morning. You and your mage party are welcome to join us.”

In response to Trixi’s shocked look, he let out a hearty laugh. “What, you think just because I'm short means I'm stupid? Your elf friend’s staff gave it away, not to mention the human’s essence constantly being activated. Tell her to knock it off, it's scaring the horses.” As Trixi walked away to inform Octavia that her magic had been detected, he heard more laughing from behind him.

When Trixi returned, visibly shaken, he received a friendly punch from Harlin. “Relax, I won't tell a soul.”

“Promise?” After Octavia had been exposed, her essence had been deactivated, but she nevertheless shot death stares over at the two men talking. “They barely like us, imagine what they'll do when they find out we're magic users.”

“Nothing, I imagine.”

“Nothing?” Trixi tilted his head to his side, idly twirling hair with his index finger.

“Council colours don't mean council rules, boy.” He shook a small stick he had strapped to his belt and it extended into a cane, using it to help himself up off the stool. It was only then that Trixi noticed Harlin’s oddly bent right ankle. He hobbled up, and used his free hand to point at the caravans around him.

“Paperwork says we're carrying weapons and armour. Resupply mission for Shuyong’s defence force.” He rapped his knuckles against the wood, giving it a satisfying thwack. He chuckled to himself before sitting back down.

“But you look in those caravans, and you'll find a whole slew of other goods too. Oranges. Pork cuts from the western mountains. Tea leaves from the south.”

“They’re smuggling tea leaves?”

The dwarf collapsed his cane and snapped it back onto his belt. “You’d be surprised how much they tax these premium goods. The council doesn't pay much to move their stuff around, so we make do.” He stared at the fire, seemingly transfixed by the dancing flames. “Get some rest, kid. If you want to follow us, we leave at dawn. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some stargazing to do.” Without moving from his spot, he flipped himself onto his back, and began to watch the skies. Trixi silently excused himself and ran over to join the rest, already sitting in a circle on their bedrolls.

The moment he sat down, Ruzuli and Octavia began to vent. Octavia was still uneasy that he had so easily unearthed their true identities, and made no effort to hide it. She glared at the dwarf the same way a warrior glared at his mortal nemesis, intense and full of rage. Not for the first time, Trixi was glad he was on her side.

“I don't like him.”

“Well, I don't like anyone here.”

“You don't like anyone, ever.”

“Rude.”

“Enough.” Jirei's lone word was gentle but firm, quickly silencing the squabbling duo. “Trixi, you were the only one to speak to him. Can we trust him?”

He gulped. Harlin wasn't completely honest, but didn't seem like he was out to harm anyone. “Y-yeah, we can.”

“Good. Did they mention when they'll be crossing the river?”

“Tomorrow, we'll make it there by midday. Harlin told me so.”

“Harlin?”

“The dwarf,” Trixi explained. “He said the leader of the caravan think there are goblins nearby. They've been delaying the crossing due to it.”

“Bad choice.” Ruzuli propped up her arm with an upright knee, with her other leg flat on the ground. “If the goblins really are here, then the best tactical choice should be to just rush through. Every day they spend here is more time for the enemy to gather their forces, to scout out our defences.”

“Indeed, and I suspect the same.” Jirei pressed her palms together, and when she pulled them apart, a lattice of green vines hung in the air, loosely connected to her fingertips. “Using these vines, I sensed a large collective of lifeforms to the northeast of us.”

“Really? I didn't sense a thing.” Octavia had crossed her arms and folded her legs, bending herself halfway to a human pretzel. “Or is my understanding of druidic powers flawed?”

“Well, about that...” Trixi watched the druid grind to an awkward halt. She tapped her index fingers against each other a few times, before speaking again. “It's a new technique that my teacher taught me. It's not very precise about location, but if it senses something, it's there.”

“So...we should be prepared for a battle on the bridge?” Trixi said, trying to break up any tension within the group. “It’s a clear bottleneck, and once we're on the bridge it's hard to get off it quickly.”

They would spend some more time discussing possibilities and general strategies about how to defend the large caravan train, before agreeing to retire for the night.

As Trixi lay in his bedroll, staring at the few stars that dotted the sky, only one thought consumed his mind. When his master had discovered the explosive powder, she had been reluctant to publish her findings. She argued that many would find a way to abuse its destructive power, but was ultimately convinced by her peers. It would be better to inform the world of it than keep it a secret and wait for another party with far more malicious intents to wreak havoc. Now that the havoc wreaking weaponry could fit in one's hands, as Harlin claimed, that danger had grown tenfold. Too many stray thoughts cluttered his already busy mind, and it drained his energy away. Within the minute, his eyelids would shut for the evening.

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Trixi did not need to rely on any rooster to rouse him from his sleep, or even his internal alarm. Instead, Feng, the elf guard from the previous day, roamed about the camp at the crack of dawn, ringing a large bell repeatedly, waking every single traveler up. “Thirty minutes!” Feng hollered in the air. “Thirty minutes and we leave!” Evidently, the rest of the travellers were already used to this routine, as they roamed over to a large barrel of water to begin to freshen up.

“Good morning,” he groaned, but no one responded. He sat upright, and realized his teammates had not only already awoken, but were already ready to leave, sitting around the fire.

“How nice of you to join us.” Ruzuli said, failing to stifle her own smile.

“No one woke me up?” He ruffled his hair, allowing it to settle into its natural mess.

“No one dared interrupt your sleep, lest they incurred your wrath.”

“Very funny.”

“She’s not wrong,” Jirei said, holding a bowl of oatmeal. “You snore like a horn.”

Trixi groaned and fell back into his bedroll. It was going to be a long day ahead. Eventually, he had to leave the warmth of his bedroll behind and get up, preparing for the travels ahead.

After precisely thirty minutes, Feng indeed gave the command to move off, ringing a series of bells mounted on the front car to convey it. The caravans were arranged in a particular order to improve security. At both ends were the cars containing the food and other assorted essentials for traveling. They were crucial, but in the event of an attack they would be the first to be abandoned. Next were the cars containing the armaments, stuffed with the premium goods to sell when they arrived in the city. And at the very heart of the train, sandwiched between eight other cars, was the one carrying Harlin’s deadly cargo. Feng and his other guards knew that if it came down to it, they would have to defend that car with their lives. Under no circumstance could the revolutionary weapons fall into anyone else’s hands.

Trixi observed the uniquely Elven manner of pulling their cars. Instead of a horsemaster and whips, like others might use, they instead employed rangers, users of green essence who were more attuned to animals in nature. They could quickly create a bond to the horses, and give them the commands needed, with only a simple pair of reins to communicate. He noted that all the rangers that sat at the front of the wooden carts were also dressed in the colours of the Elven Council. They clearly took their transportation very seriously.

Most of the passengers would be walking alongside the caravans, with only a select privileged few being able to sit in them, Harlin being part of that group. He waved goodbye to Trixi as he awkwardly went up the steps, disappearing into a cabin. As for Trixi, he had been placed at the rear, alongside Ruzuli, Jirei and Octavia. Feng reasoned that if they had travelled all this way without any help, then they should be able to handle themselves.

Most of their fellow travelers steered clear of the strange new companions, so they walked alone, right beside the very last car. Trixi watched as a horse began to neigh loudly, walking erratically, and the ranger instinctively calmed it down, sending green essence flowing into his reins. The horse quickly fell silent, and continued its march. 

As the cars set off from their encampment, with two horses pulling each one along, Trixi stared at the map. The Citrasa was nearly half a day's walk away from them, and would be the final major checkpoint before they reached Shuyong. Unfortunately for Trixi, the view remained unchanging, barring the occasional lone tree sitting by the roadside, leaving him nothing to focus his mind on. Instead, he thought of their ultimate goal that day, to cross the Citrasa.

Unarguably the most famous river in all of Sagure, Trixi had seen the Citrasa depicted in countless texts and paintings. Spanning the entire length of the continent, from all the way in the northern Fang Plateau, before flowing south. It rested briefly to form Lake Kaerin, and split to form two separate rivers further down its length. Beyond the fork, they were simply referred to as the Southern and Eastern Citrasa, described simply with its direction.

As he walked in silence, he tuned into the conversation going on ahead of him.

“Ruzuli, would you stop touching your hilt?”

“It makes me feel safe.”

“You know what's safe? Any scenario where you don't have to use your sword.”

“Hmpf. Fine.” Ruzuli awkwardly jammed right hand into one of the numerous pockets that lined her shirt, while Octavia beamed on, with a mocking smile specially reserved for her.

“You know, this exact conversation has happened before.” Jirei waggled a finger in the air, waving it playfully as Ruzuli continued to sulk.

“Not a surprise,” Octavia said. “She doesn't strike me as the type to change that easily.”

“I am literally right here.” Ruzuli pursed her lips, angrily glaring at the two girls mocking her. Trixi swore he could see invisible puffs of smoke floating from her nostrils, like the flame-breathing dragons of yore.

A sudden flash filled the sky, followed moments later by a low rumble. “Not me,” Ruzuli whispered, as grey clouds rolled in, the sudden storm approaching from ahead. Before anyone could respond, three high-pitched bells rang out. The command for haste.

All along the caravan train, nine sets of reins began to glow as the rangers compelled their steeds to accelerate. Brisk walks were discarded for jogs as they picked up speed, racing towards the bridge, now ever nearing. A fierce wind had picked up, buffeting them as they struggled to keep pace with the train. Further away, a sea of fog had seemed to form, riding on the winds. Within minutes, it would reach them, robbing them of the sense of sight. Nevertheless, the train pressed on. If Feng was to be deterred by the surprise storm, he was not showing it.

Trixi’s footsteps went from making short, muted sounds to loud rickety clacks, as he set foot on the wooden bridge. By this point, the fog had all but consumed them, with only the occasional lightning strike lighting up the sky. This should have been the time to appreciate the way they had constructed the flat wood bridge, to admire the Elven carvings on the side, or the olden style of architecture, but the urgency of their pace robbed Trixi of this chance.

Two low pitched bells brought the command this time, slowing the entire train down to a halt. For a moment, all was still in the misty silence.

“What the-”

“Why are we stopped?”

Trixi heard the murmurs float over from other passengers, and began to think. Feng was a tactical man, and surely had his reasons. Still, he would like to know what was going on. Most of the people travelling were not strong fighters, and already they were looking around nervously, waiting for an answer. Trixi had to admit, it was making him antsy too.

“Can you do anything about the mist?” Trixi said, asking Ruzuli for aid. “Surely you know some kind of trick to beat it back.”

“The mist is as intangible as it gets,” she responded. “I’m not very good at using light-based spells. Octavia?”

“Something’s not right.” She murmured.

“What?”

“I said something’s not right. There’s a lot of essence being used somewhere. North? North-east?” Her eyes began to glow white. “I’m going to try to get a better read on that.”

Trixi felt a faint rumble in the earth. He had spent many years studying the ways of geomancy, but this was no earth tremor. This was something large, and it was coming for them.  The rumbling grew stronger, and in an instant, a large wooden cart burst out from behind them, making all sorts of unearthly noises as it trundled towards them. A small team of goblins ran alongside it, pushing it barrelling towards the rear train, just over twenty metres away. Trixi saw the whitepowder that filled it to the brim, and with a look of horror, realized their plan.

But before he could shout a warning, Ruzuli shot forth a wide cone of flame, trading accuracy for raw power. The moment it so much as touched the cart, it instantly ignited, exploding with such force that it ripped the bridge apart, leaving a gaping hole where it had once been. The shockwave knocked Ruzuli back, surprised by the aftermath of her own power, while Trixi was forced onto one knee, bending down to endure the blast. When the wreckage had settled, the white smoke of the explosive powder mixing with the fog.

“Was that it?” Jirei whispered in a quiet voice.

As if responding to her question, another explosion rocked the bridge, this time far louder, and far more violent than the one they had just witnessed. They turned to see that a similar attack had been carried out on the front of the train, reducing one car to splinters and setting another ablaze.

To add insult to injury, the fog that had plagued them suddenly fell away, as if it had served its purpose and now bade goodbye. That in itself should have been shocking, but more shocking still were the two large ships, sailing full speed at the bridge, having cleverly used the fog to set up an ambush. Aboard the ships, goblins hung off every rope and every sail, brandishing weapons and itching for a bloodbath. So their suspicions were right. Damn it all. Right on cue, the high pitched bell broke into a frenzy, ringing over and over and over again, rousing the guards to their stations.

No path ahead, no path behind, and no escape for the besieged caravan. The battle on the bridge was about to begin.

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