Tristan
October 18, 1786, Realm Timeline, New Castle near Blansko, Bohemia
The first to finish the task was the Elf. There was a ruined shack in the back of the courtyard. Cedric took down the planks of the walls and the door, reinforced the roof, replaced the posts, and filled the shack with dried pieces of wood. The construction was irregular, following the material's natural shape, but it was agreeable to look at.
Then Tristan tasked the boy with cutting the rotten planks into kindling, using a real axe. Even being near iron was taking a toll on Cedric; he struggled to keep from vomiting but gained a point in Endurance and another in Constitution. In the end, the Elf went near the Yew tree, leaning on it, and fell asleep on his feet, his hood over his head, his shape almost invisible in the shadow and the pouring rain.
Tristan let him be and cleaned the lobby himself. As a former squire, he knew how to dust, wash floors and windows, and perform every basic task. His medical gown met its end, torn and used as cleaning rags.
Then, Isolde returned in a large vehicle that made a lot of noise. A truck, Tristan was told. His heart filled with joy, seeing all that straw, hay, and oats. After she discharged the provisions and the truck left, she took care of the stables, helped by Pops, the old Chinese, and the Cook.
The third to make good on his quest was Aldric, and the fire was lit when Tristan had finished the floors, but before he had cleaned the windows. When Tristan said he was going to use the place as his bedroom as well, the mason woke up Cedric and tasked the elf to make a custom bed, using old wood taken from around the castle.
After finishing cleaning the room, Tristan realized he had skipped both breakfast and lunch, and the sun was already setting. He opened the door and yelled:
"Emilios!"
"Yes, Sir, yes," the cook answered from an annex. There was a fire in it, and the chimney was smoking.
"Is there any food?"
"Give me half an hour. Cedric hunted something. Game needs time to marinate."
"Fine, I'll take a bath... Is there a bathroom or anything around?"
"Boss?"
"Aldric? Where are you?" Tristan asked, turning around without noticing the man.
"Here, boss. I have a surprise."
The largest tower's door was open, and Aldric was beckoning. What is the meaning of this? Is this a trap? Tristan stepped inside the tower. The first space was a mudroom and wardrobe, with coats, boots, and uniforms hanging around.
"It's great," Tristan said. "Well done."
"This is not it. Follow me."
They went up the stairs and reached a terrace with a view over the mountains. In its center was a round stone receptacle, three feet deep and seven feet wide. On one side was a pipe coming down from the roof, and on the other side, a bit lower, another pipe that expelled the excess water over the walls and into the forest below.
"You made a drinking water storage?" Tristan asked.
"Hahaha... I forgot you're not familiar with our stuff. It's a jacuzzi!"
"A what?"
"A hot tub."
"Doesn't look hot to me," Tristan said, trying the water with his hand.
"Yet. You see, boss, stones remember. These have once been in a volcano. Just a bit of magic, and..."
Three seconds after Aldric touched the stones, they began to glow a reddish hue, and the water grew hot.
"It'll stay hot for an hour, even if the water keeps running," the stonemage said. "I loaded a lot of Mana in the stones."
"Aldric, starting this moment, you're my fourth in command," Tristan said. "Maybe the third, if Emilios' food sucks."
"Thanks, boss!"
"Speaking of food, why don't you bring some up, and maybe a drink, if there's any?"
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"Absolutely!"
While the stonemage descended the stairs, Tristan rushed to take off his clothes, throwing them over the wall because they were in tatters anyway, and plunged into the hot bath. The sensation was fantastic. Have to ask someone to bring me my new clothes.
"Hey! Everyone! The boss says we should eat in the jacuzzi!" Aldric yelled downstairs. Cheers erupted everywhere.
"I didn't say that!" Tristan shouted.
Maybe his words were drowned by the rain, because in less than ten seconds, Isolde appeared, pulling her blouse over her head, remaining only in her undergarments.
"Cannonball!" she shouted, jumping in, splashing water everywhere.
Tristan tried to get deeper, covering his intimate parts with his hands. Next came the old Chinese, who walked faster than before. Leaving his cane and robe aside, he entered the water slowly, letting out a deep sigh of satisfaction. Aldric returned carrying a low table, and Emilios with trays of food. They made a second trip, bringing bottles of wine and champagne, and Tristan subtilized a towel, wrapping it around his hips.
Fortunately, the tub extended when the stonemage entered it, or else they would have been squeezed. The food—meat skewers and pizza—was fantastic, and the wine was excellent. It invited small talk.
"So, what can you tell me about the differences in history between our world and yours?" he asked.
"Err... Sorry, Sir, but we were told not to talk about it," Isolde said.
"With me?" Tristan feigned indignation.
"You think the renegades have any qualms about sharing details?" Aldric scoffed. "It's better he knows."
"Renegades?" Tristan asked.
"People who deserted and gave up our secrets to whomever they pleased. They want to change history on purpose."
"Ah, those..."
"I heard they came prepared beforehand," Emilios said.
"Prepared how?"
"They had planned how to spread the technologies that could be learned fast by the locals," Isolde said. "Steam engines, stuff."
"Worse. Who to talk with," Emilios said. "General stuff doesn't matter so much, but if you know details, like who's Mavrogene, or Pasvante, or Ipsilanti, or—"
"Who are they?"
"Warlords from the Balkans. You know the details of their lives; you can use them."
"Yeah, makes sense. So, anything else you care to share?"
"Only the first partition of Poland happened here," Isolde said. "I know because I have a Polish grandmother. And we annexed the part that was supposed to be given to Austria into the Protectorates. Those Poles are very happy with us."
"The Turks are stronger than on Earth," Emilios said. "There were a few wars with the Russians that didn't happen because we appeared. If they didn't fight, they didn't lose. Crimea is still theirs, because the Russians retreated to keep an eye on us."
"There was a bombing in Berlin that took out Frederic the Great and a lot of his family," Aldric said. "It's said it was the work of Marxist Renegades."
"Yeah, I know about the bomb," Tristan sighed. "Is our Emperor successful on Earth? He's a very good-hearted man."
"Beats me," Aldric shrugged, imitated by Isolde.
"Not so much, because of the nobles," Emilios said.
"The cook is a nerd, who would have guessed?" the stonemage laughed.
"I like history," Emilios said.
All of a sudden, a detail grabbed Tristan's attention. There were too few of them. "Where are Maximillian, Dorian, and Cedric?"
"I'm on the roof, to spare you my hideous presence," Cedric's voice answered from above.
"You're not hideous, Cedric, you're... err... special," Isolde yelled.
"Take some food," Tristan said, grateful the giant elf was not taking even more of the limited space.
"I ate in the forest. I like the meat raw."
"What is it?" Tristan asked.
"Dunno, he brought it skinned and cleaned," Emilios said. "Rabbit?"
"Badger," Cedric said.
"Ew," Isolde yelled, trying to throw her half-eaten skewer into the forest. Tristan caught her hand before she succeeded.
"It's meat, and it's good," he said, taking a bite. "And the other two fools? Where are they?"
"Sorry, my bad, I forgot to tell you," Isolde said. "The horse returned by itself, with the provisions tied on its back. Dorian didn't come with him. We waited for an hour, then Max went to search for him. He said he could detect the coins on him."
"Wow," Aldric sighed. "Two guys missing on duty, and you didn't report it? This is bad."
"B-but I d-didn't kn—"
"Darian is near the gate. I can smell him," Cedric said. "Dorian! Come to the big tower; we're up here!"
A minute later, after climbing the stairs with heavy steps and sighs, one of the missing recruits appeared, dressed only in a sleeveless shirt and boxers, covered in mud.
"What happened to you? You got robbed?" Tristan asked.
The man shook his head and began speaking monotonously and in short sentences: "The closest village is a mile away. There's a river in between. No bridge. There's a ford. The water was higher when I returned. I walked; the horse had the provisions. I got swept away. I died twice. Drowned, then hypothermia. Almost died a third time, but I leveled up and invested the points in Endurance and Constitution."
"And your clothes?"
"Didn't take any. Wasn't going undressed part of the training mission?"
"Have you seen Max?" Tristan asked, avoiding looking Dorian in the eyes.
"Yes. The second time I revived. He was smashing my fingers with a rock to take the purse I was holding. It hurt."
"Well, where is he?"
"He said he'll go to Brno to deposit the money in a bank and will be back in the morning."
"I guess we won't see him again," Tristan bit his lower lip. "Goodbye, our gold."
"No way," Isolde shook her head. "He's the richest of us. When we gathered the money together, he had two hundred and something ducats on him. Altogether, there were about four hundred."
These guys are loaded! Tristan gasped.
"That's over fourteen kilos of gold," Emilios said. "It makes sense to put it somewhere and take checks instead."
"I can get my phone and call him," Isolde said.
"Leave him be," Cedric said. "If he didn't run away, there is no reason to check on him all the time. If he did, a call won't change things."
"Elf wisdom," Isabel joked. "Should I call him, Sir?"
"Cedric has a point. We'll see."
"Can I come in?" Dorian asked, shivering.
They all froze, staring at the man covered in mud. Dorian stared back, moving his eyes from the tub to the food a few times.
"You did well today," Tristan said. "As a prize, I say you get the jacuzzi all for your own. Right, guys? We can move downstairs. Hope the fire's still on."
"I threw a log on it before bringing the food," Emilios said.
They exited the tub in a hurry, Tristan struggling to keep the towel on.