There was a bit less treasure than Illyxa had hoped for in the vault of the local gang, but it was still enough to make their night worth it. The goblin sorceress got to work, counting everything up, while Gragya was busy receiving thanks from the various women who’d ended up stuck working for the small-time thugs.
Once Illyxa had everything counted and divided into their respective halves, Gragya went and gave away most of her half to the women, so they could hire some guards to start their own independent practice. Illyxa rolled her eyes and grumbled about her cousin being too easily swayed by cute women. She wasn’t going to say anything else, though. She’d expected it.
Illyxa just focused on stuffing her cut into their backpacks while Gragya was showered in more kisses.
“Ahem,” a masculine voice called out.
Illyxa blinked and looked up, spotting a cloaked figure sitting on a ruined wall of the building she was in. Or, ‘former building’ depending on how much of a stickler for architectural integrity you were.
The man’s cloak was a dark green, with a shimmer to it that suggested it was elven silk. There was a second figure just outside the wall who looked smaller than him, though they both towered over Illyxa.
“You two friends with the local thugs?” Illyxa asked, though she doubted it. They seemed much better dressed.
“Not in the slightest,” the man said, disgust evident in his voice. If the cloak hadn’t said it already, that tone of voice more or less confirmed the man was an elf. “I’ve been looking for you specifically, Illyxa the Inferno.”
“… don’t tell me you’re from Luareth. It’s not my fault you elves build such flammable cities. Use some stone or bricks for a change and they wouldn’t burn down from a couple fireballs,” she grumbled, waving her arms in annoyance.
“I’m looking to hire you,” the man said, hopping down from the ruined wall and walking closer to Illyxa’s light spell.
Closer up, she could tell he was handsome in an angular way, if you were into that. Like all elven men. He seemed ethereal with the way his deep brown skin shimmered in the blueish magic light, which added to the perfect beauty thing he had going.
Illyxa did wonder at his eyebrows, though. They were the only hair of his she could see, but they looked… black. With none of the greenish tint elven hair usually had. Maybe it was just the light…
“I need to get to the Moon Goddess’ Palace,” he said, standing over her.
“The Moon Palace!?” Illyxa asked, not about to take some haughty elf seriously. “That’s on the far end of Caenia. Are you planning to go through the Waste? Or the direct route through Dragon Country? Or, maybe you want to dig there to be even more direct?”
She began to laugh as he stood there unflinching.
“The Draconic Coast would indeed be faster, and time is of the essence,” he replied.
She blinked, staring as she realised he was actually serious. “Not used to an elf being in a hurry. What’s going on?”
“I have my reasons, and that’s all you need to know,” the man said.
By this point his companion had gotten herself over the wall, and was showing deep concern.
“Fuan, we can find a more honourable guard somewhere else,” the woman said. “Look what they did to this town for a few hundred silver…”
She was a bit lighter of a brown than the man, Fuan, but with clearly green hair. She also seemed the sheltered and nervous type.
“I beg your pardon,” Gragya said, walking into the remnants of a room they were in. “We were helping those in need. The coin just helps cover our living expenses.”
The elven woman slipped behind her friend as Gragya walked over, towering over either of them. Fuan looked rather less intimidated, however.
“We’re willing to pay,” he said, pulling a small bag of coins out. “This upfront. Two thousand gold after the job is completed.”
Illyxa raised an eyebrow at the size of the coin purse, until she opened it.
“Platinum and orihalcum coins,” she whispered.
It had to be at least five hundred gold coin’s worth. Breaking the coins into more usable silver and copper would take a proper bank, but she could be patient for that kind of money.
“I think we can come to an arrangement,” Illyxa said with a large grin, “Mister… what were you names, again?”
“Captain Fuan of the Shuzia Forest Guard.”
“Priestess Hyi, with Luvra’s Temple in Shuzia,” the elven woman added, still half hiding behind Fuan.
“Well, Captain Fuan, you have hired the services of Illyxa, the greatest red mage alive,” the goblin woman said with a bow, even if it seemed a bit redundant due to the height difference. “We’ll set out in the morning. These hills are treacherous at night.”
Fuan did not look happy about that, but reluctantly accepted it.
Gragya was obviously annoyed as they got back to the room in the inn. Illyxa flopped on her bed before asking what was up.
“I don’t like working with elves. Especially not some sheltered priestess,” the orcish woman said. “You saw how she looked at us, convinced we might stab her in the back and run off with her valuables if she lets her guard down.”
“Eh. With the amount they’re paying, I’d accept it if they were a crew of dwarven chefs who wanted to have us eat their cooking the whole time,” Illyxa replied.
“Still, they’ll be a headache at any town we stop at that isn’t one from the Heavenly Peoples,” Gragya muttered, as she got changed out of her armour.
“I’ll just tack on extra charges if they start trouble,” Illyxa said. “They’ll have to either agree or we ditch them to fend for themselves.”
“I guess that works,” Gragya replied, though she didn’t sound fully swayed.
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In the morning, the cousins found the two elves waiting for them already. Fuan was still wearing his hood, while Hyi had hers down and seemed convinced the innkeeper would give a humble servant of the Temple of Luvra a discount.
“Everyone knows elves are loaded,” the human man grumbled. “Taking advantage of compound interest to make money by just sitting around.”
“The gods would look upon generosity favourably, though?” Hyi offered, hope in her voice.
“Isn’t a temple supposed to do charity?” Illyxa asked as she walked over. “You should be helping the poor innkeeper, not the other way around.”
“B-but I have a limited allowance from the temple? If we have to pay these prices for good hotel rooms, I’ll be out of money in no time,” the elven priestess said, her eyes glistening with tears.
“Then stay in bad rooms,” Illyxa replied, before hopping up on a box to pay for her and Gragya’s room.
The elven priestess looked horrified at the idea, turning to her compatriot for help.
“I gave the goblin all the money I have on me. You know I can’t get more until we fix things,” Fuan replied.
Heartbroken, Hyi paid for their rooms, looking on the edge of crying.
Illyxa and Gragya then dragged the elves off to the market to grab provisions for crossing into the Waste. They were going to try to skirt the northern edge of it, but that still meant more than a week of trekking across mountains and desert. Which meant they needed a fair bit of food. Especially for Gragya.
Hyi was left footing a good chunk of the bill once again, and did end up crying as she realised how little money she’d have left.
All the while, Illyxa noticed Fuan continued to wear his hood, and tried to keep his face hidden when possible. Something was up with him, and the goblin sorceress wanted to figure out just what it was.
She couldn’t feel much magic on him. Less than one would expect from an elf, honestly. She could tell something was off with the basic chaos of the universe near him. Almost like a curse, but how would that lead to a deficit of magic?
Unlike the naive priestess he was friends with, he seemed too competent for whatever it was to be self-inflicted. So, at least, she didn’t think it would get worse.
Begrudgingly, Illyxa decided to put it to the back of her mind and focus instead of planning the trip. There were things in the Waste she wanted to see, but had never had the time to go to. She could probably hit up a few on the way back. But the way out had to come first. They would probably want to follow the foothills of the Great Range as far as they could, since there were fresh streams flowing out into the desert there. Streams that dried up under the heat of the sun the further east you went.
Then there was the oasis city of Vrem. The ruins around there tended to attract travellers and adventurers from far and wide. They could probably get some extra muscle there. Which would be needed in dragon country if they had a naive priestess and a cursed elf to keep safe.
Then they’d head north.
Hopefully they could find a Wolf-folk guide through the forests of Caenia. Sure, she and Gragya could live off the land pretty well anywhere, but it was always better to have a local guide.
“Alright, we’ve got our food. I’ve got a path to follow. Let’s go!” Illyxa said, hopping up and climbing to the top of Gragya’s oversized pack.
“You’re not going to make her carry you on her sack, are you?” Hyi said, looking up at Illyxa on her perch.
“Her short legs can’t keep up,” Gragya said with a grin.
Illyxa crossed her arms with a huff. “She’s carrying so much food to keep her bottomless gut full that she barely notices my added weight.”
Gragya looked over her shoulder to stick her tongue out, and Illyxa returned the gesture. The pair then broke into laughter as they set out to the North East.
The laughter lasted only a short while, Illyxa pulling out a map to double check some of their routing. She also had a few points in the Waste marked that she decided to figure out how to visit on the way back. She didn’t end up that far to the North East very often, and wanted to take advantage of it.
She was well along the way of pencilling in some travel plans when Gragya began to sing a goblin hiking song. Illyxa couldn’t resist and joined in, merily singing about the funny little flightless Kimi Birds in Orc Country, and all the different ways to cook them.
Neither elf seemed to appreciate the song much, which was too bad for them. Goblins had lots of hiking songs. After all, Gragya wasn’t lying about short legs meaning it took them longer to walk places.
Meals managed to turn into a point of contention. They only had one pot, and goblin and elven cooking ideas were very different. Elves liked minimal seasoning, the food cooked to a minimum for natural flavours to come through. Goblins liked to toss everything in a pot, dump as much seasoning as they could afford in there, and let it all cook together for a while.
“That… that goo is an insult to the deities of harvest and plants,” Hyi insisted as Illyxa dumped a few dollops of orkish pepper paste into the pot.
“What you elves make is an insult to the spiritual essence of our poor pot,” Illyxa countered. “It’s not cooking. It’s just heating the food.”
“The next town we come across we’re buying a second pot,” Hyi said, crossing her arms.
“I’m not carrying it,” Gragya said, as she stirred the stew.
“Why don’t you just let us make our soups, then once we’ve had our bowls you toss your… ‘flavourings’ in afterwards with what’s left?” Fuan asked.
“This pot has been in our family for generations,” Gragya protested. “You’re insulting not just the spirit of the pot, but that of our ancestors too by taking food out when it hasn’t cooked yet.”
“Y-your family? Both of you? But… how are you related? You’re an orc and she’s a goblin?” Hyi asked, while Fuan seemed mildly curious.
“I’m a Gorc,” Gragya replied.
“Her father was a goblin, and my uncle,” Illyxa explained. “He was widely respected in our village for wooing an orkish beauty.”
Both elves looked mildly frightened or concerned.
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