The not-immortal Blacksmith

3rd of Anael,

There was a hard frost this morning. While the grass and occasional copse of trees look beautiful with the shining frost covering them, it also means that the winter has started.

The farther south we go, the farther the falling of the leaves has come. I expect that by tomorrow all we will see is trees barren of leaves.

7th of Anael,

The trees are barren. The wind is cold and hard frost is the norm in the morning. I expect the water buckets to be iced over again when we awaken. Around 200 miles to go…another ten days, if the weather holds.

10th of Anael,

We overcame a cart under attack by a roving gang of marauders; that's what they're called out here.

We delt with them, patched up the farmers, and went on our way. I'm so tired of people not being "civilized".

-

The wagon rolled to a stop a hundred or so yards from where the pair of farmers were standing back-to-back, fighting for their lives against a dozen marauders. Max looked at Bri, as she notched an arrow and let it fly. One of the marauders fell, an arrow having pierced his skull and come out the other side. As she knocked another arrow, Max vaulted from the wagon and sped forward.

Three more arrows struck their individual targets by the time Max made it to the pair of farmers; a pair who were tired, bleeding, but still holding on. Boom stick in his left hand, and sword in his right, Max pulled the trigger once and the three marauders that were in the way of the bullet, fell; a swing of the sword lopped off the arm of a fourth just below the shoulder. Only ten seconds had passed.

The four remaining marauders, and farmers, froze for a moment, stared at the cloud of smoke, and the man who was blowing smoke from the tip of the strange looking tube, then the marauders fled. Just as they reached the edge of the "fray", four more arrows found their mark, and four more corpses were made.

-

13th of Anael,

A morning storm from the east brought with it thunder and snow. Barely an inch of the fine white powder, but the thunder and lightning, which was beautiful in the monochromatic light, scared the horses some. By afternoon the snow had melted, turning the roadway to mud.

Three more days. Only three more days until we reach our destination.

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14th of Anael,

Another day of light snow. It hits the ground and melts into the mud. Mud that is slightly frozen. It is difficult, but not bad.

16th of Anael,

We will arrive at the trading port city of Giragzdum in the morning. I don't feel it's safe to push the horses any farther tonight. We have purchased accommodations at the only bar in an unnamed hamlet.

17th of Anael,

We arrived midmorning in the city of Giragzdum. It is cold, wet, and smells of the sea. The population is mostly human, but there are a smattering of elves and dwarves in attendance.

We have booked passage on a cargo ship that leaves on the 20th with the morning tide. Our accommodations in town are fabulous, a large stone inn that is a stone's throw from what I am assured is a gorgeous sandy beach in the summer; a large stone pool in which to swim with another smaller pool in which to soak, that is kept at around forty degrees; an indoor "racetrack" for walking or running on; two full bars about a third of the way from each end of the building that each serve different styles of food; a set of a dozen or so gambling tables in the middle of the inn, and several tables for a game played with colored balls and sticks called either "Billiards" or "Pool" depending on the rules being used. I've seen temples to the twelve that were smaller than this place. The architecture is amazing. There is a library. Meals can be delivered to the room just by using your calling stone thing… I plan on staying indoors until it's time to leave.

-

Max sat on the edge of the small heated pool, "Alright, it's now or never. We're going on a boat trip, time to get over this." Slowly he slid himself into the hot water. His body locked up, then slowly, with heavy concentration, he forced himself to relax. After what felt like hours, he dunked his head under the surface…

On the day of their departure, Bri found him swimming laps in the large pool.

-

20th of Anael,

I was sad to say goodbye to the inn's staff, and sadder to leave the inn; our accommodation on the cargo ship is very cramped in comparison. The food shipboard is much less fancy, and more down to earth than the inn. The sea air is cold, and the wind brisk.

This trip is going to be some 6100 miles by ship. Figuring an average speed of ten knots per hour, and twenty hours of wind a day, we should make an average of 200 miles a day. The captain has assured us that the ship, while a three masted cargo vessel, has a secret from "the other side" that increases its speed when the wind blows above seven knots. He also has a wind mage onboard who claims he can keep up a ten-knot wind if he has at least a breeze to work with.

If the wind is with us, and the god of the sea is placated, we should arrive on the Eastern continent before midwinter. I have my doubts.

-

21st of Anael,

Speed.

-

The wind mage stood at the aft of the ship, arms raised, palms forward. He directed the winds into the billowing sails and past them to a "spinnaker" sail. The enormous sail opened wide, and the ship tore forwards with the wind.

The captain, and third generation owner of the ship, smiled at Max, "Now watch this!" He spoke into a brass tube next to the ships wheel, "Engage the foil!"

Max stared in amazement as the ship lurched ahead again, then began to lift out of the water. The higher the ship raised, the faster it went.

"Now we can make use of the full might of the wind!" The captain yelled. "As soon as we get a bearing on which way the high winds are going, I will shoot up the sky sail, and we will use that to catch the stronger winds above!"

Max removed a small notebook from his breast pocket, and began furiously scribbling notes.