They made their way to the bar, looking around for the signs of a familiar face.
‘It would be a lot easier if we knew who we were looking for,’ Gurin complained.
Grim noticed the man at the bar looking at them with an alarmed expression. ‘We don’t want no trouble here,’ he said.
‘It’s alright,’ came a voice from behind them. ‘They’re with me.’
Og-Grim-Dog and Gurin turned around at the same time.
Four mouths dropped open.
‘Assata?’
East
Og-Grim-Dog had never had the luxury of three pillows before. It really was quite something, and they each agreed that they had woken more rested than they could remember.
They were travelling downriver on a barge transporting textiles. The cargo on board meant that there was a selection of comfortable items upon which they could rest their heads, and they had taken full advantage.
With them were Gurin, Assata and Simba. Assata and Simba had arrived in Dorwich City together, with instructions to wait for the dwarf and the ogre. Wasting no time, they had booked passage for the group on the barge. They had left the city the day after Og-Grim-Dog and Gurin had arrived.
It was a surprise, to Grim, to find Assata working for the Dark Lord. Much more so than Gurin. Thinking back, he remembered Simba telling them that he had made contact with the Barbarian Resistance in Mer Khazer. Maybe if he had recalled that comment, he would have been less surprised to see Assata in Simba’s company.
It was a decidedly pleasant experience for Grim, watching the world go by from the comfort of the boat. No need to move his tired legs anymore; no marching through a rainstorm. When the weather was bad, they simply huddled under a bolt of cloth. When it was clear, he could gaze out at the countryside on each bank, or follow the activities of the birds and other animals who lived on the river.
Since they were heading downstream, the boatmen who manned the craft were having an easy time of things, too. The Auster was wide and strong at this point in its course, and often they had little to do themselves. When the wind blew against them severely, they would prod long poles into the riverbed and push the barge along. For the most part, the crew seemed to be seasoned travellers who had seen their share of oddities over their years of roving. Only a few continued to gawp at the three-headed ogre, and the white-haired dark elf.
Og-Grim-Dog’s companions appeared to share the same sense of calm, at least on the surface. Grim couldn’t say for sure what Gurin and Assata told themselves about their association with the Dark Lord. Then, there was the question of their assignment once they got to Kuthenia. Surely there couldn’t be many tasks more dangerous than abducting a child of the most powerful ruler in all of Gal’azu. But no-one seemed anxious to discuss the task. No-one seemed particularly eager to talk at all, and Grim didn’t mind that one bit.
It was therefore some days before Og-Grim-Dog found themselves alone with Assata and engaged in a proper conversation. She told them about her latest dungeon crawl, with Sandon, Raya, Brother Kane and a couple of new recruits. It sounded like little had changed at the Bureau, and that the takings from the dungeons remained meagre. Still, Grim couldn’t stop a pang of envy from appearing, that his friends went on their adventure without him.
Assata then listened with a keen interest when they described Fell Towers to her. Grim told her about the oversized gates, the dark granite buildings and the thin towers rising up to the sky. He explained who the menials were and what they did. Og told her about his impressions of the Dark Lord; about his pet, Evie, and his brother, Fraser, both kept in the basement. He mentioned Lilith’s role in the organisation. Finally, Dog spent a not inconsiderable time exhaustively listing all the food items available in the refectory.
‘How did Simba convince you to serve the Dark Lord?’ Og finally asked.
Assata looked about them for prying ears before she answered.
‘Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t serve the Dark Lord. I’m working for the Resistance. I’m doing this for all my people still held in bondage in the Empire.’
‘How will this help them?’
‘If we succeed in—’ she paused, looking about them again. ‘If we succeed in our mission, the repercussions for the Kuthenian Empire could be severe. A war with the Dark Lord, even. At the least, the weakening of the monarchy and the ruling class. The more instability and unrest, the more chance for the Resistance to lead a rebellion. There are enough slaves in the Empire to rise up and slit the throats of their masters. We could destroy Kuthenia from within.’
Grim thought about it. You could do the Dark Lord’s work for him.
They travelled down the Auster until it swung south on its way to the coast. The bargemen would follow the river all the way to the great port of Avolo, where they could sell their cargo for an easy profit. For the Dark Lord’s henchmen, however, their route lay east. To Pengshui, capital of the Empire.
A large town by the name of Linby had grown up at this point in the river. Dropped at the wharf, the three henchmen and the barbarian investigated their options for heading east. Their two concerns were transporting someone of Og-Grim-Dog’s size, and drawing as little attention to themselves as possible. Money was not an issue, since the Dark Lord had provided them with ample expenses to get his assignment done.
In the end, all of them agreed that their best option was to buy a cart pulled by horses. Assata and Gurin went off to select the best one: she to check on the health of the animals, while Gurin was keen to haggle over the price. That left Og-Grim-Dog and Simba to tour the stalls, restocking their provisions. Because of its location, Linby had an enticing mix of cuisine from west, east and south, and Og-Grim-Dog were in their element. The smell of spiced meat led them to a side street, where they discovered another branch of Sheev’s.
‘Seem to be spreading everywhere, don’t they?’ Og noted.
‘No surprise, I suppose,’ said Grim. ‘What’s not to like?’
Dog slavered in agreement, but Og had his thinking face on.
‘Should we buy some for our journey?’ asked Simba.
‘Does a bugbear shit in the woods?’ asked Dog.
When they were done and had located the others, the dwarf and barbarian had already made their choice, parted with their money and were ready to go. Gurin declared himself to be the least conspicuous of the group and argued that he should take the reins. Since this meant they got to sit in relative comfort inside the coach, no-one else was minded to quarrel with him.
A decent looking road led out of Linby and with little trouble they found themselves heading east.
The decent looking road didn’t last for very long. Despite the fact that this was a key route between the west and east of Gal’azu, it passed through a land claimed by many, but in practice, ruled by none. The absence of a ruler or body politic of any kind meant there was no-one to maintain the road. Combined with the fact that they were travelling in winter, the road soon deteriorated into a churned, muddy mess.
It was Og-Grim-Dog who suffered the most from the poor state of the highway. First, every time the wheels of the cart got stuck, the ogre had to get out and push it free. Second, it was decided that one of the reasons the cart kept getting stuck was because they were in it. The solution, of course, was for the ogre to get out and walk.