Two days later.
Duskfields was an old city.
Long before demonkind had settled the peninsula, a race of necromancers ruled the land with an iron fist backed by mighty legions of undead. They’d objected to the settlement of demonkind at their borders, and had launched a massive campaign to see them enslaved or erased. This had gone poorly for them.
Backed by the goddess of fire and war, the Infernal armies drove the necromancers into the sea, claiming the northern reaches of the continent for themselves after a hundred years of war. This conflict had never truly ended as human nations beyond the Ironspine mountains to the south, who’d been long allies of the necromancers, had never accepted peace.
But that is a tale for another day.
It was during the final stretches of the war that the city of Duskfields was founded. The first Demon Emperor had ordered its construction as an outpost from which he could launch a series of decisive battles to finally end the necromancer threat and claim complete dominion over the peninsula. As such, it was built upon the peak of a lonely, monolithic mountain.
Over time, this small outpost grew, going from a small settlement to a town to a city. Vast fields of duskwheat sprang up around the base of the city to feed the hunger of the empire and her armies, watered by large aquifers pouring out from within the mountain’s core. The cascading waterfalls pounded down the slick face of the mountain into an encircling moat far below, sending great mists rolling over the farmlands, wetting the soil and plants.
Now, five-thousand years after its founding, Duskfields, called the City of Wheat, or the Gray Mountain, was the second-largest city in the barony, second only to the capital of Oldgrave, and was amongst the largest producers of grain in the empire, and one of the wealthiest cities in the world. Crowned a city of commerce, it was a jewel in the empire’s crown.
Great leagues worth of wealth passed through gates and warehouses daily. Not just food and hides from the farms and fields, but also trade from the Emerald Port to the south, metals dug from the low hills to the west, and regents and monster parts from along the Flooded Coast to the north. Some say that even the city’s gutters glittered with lost gold coins, and that the city’s thieves' fingers were always coated with gold dust.
Fanciful tales perhaps, but the city’s wealth was undeniable. Great merchant houses flocked to the city to share in the trade. As did numerous adventurers like Autumn and Nethlia to find work and adventure.
Geographically speaking, the City of Wheat was situated right in the center of the peninsula’s heartlands and built upon a nearly impregnable defensive location. The only way to reach the city nestled high above like a crown on the mountain’s peak was to trek up a series of treacherous switchback paths carved into the mountainside. And that wasn’t even taking into account the massive gatehouses defending both the top and bottom of the path.
This strong defensible location allowed the city to greatly project its power and protection over the surrounding lands. And as it sat right on the crossroads linking the barony capital with the rest of the peninsula and Port Emerald, Duskfields was charged with safeguarding the empire’s harvests from those who’d see it stolen or destroyed.
The charge of protection fell naturally into the armored hands of the city watch – the Duskguard.
In their long-storied history, the Duskguard had not only kept the peace within the city, but had also seen off roving bands of bandits, vicious goblin tribes, murderous beastkin clans, human marauders from across the seas, wander monsters tides, and many many more threats besides.
Autumn was in shock having witnessed such a fantastical city appear before her eyes out of dawn’s hazy horizon of endless wheat. Her jaw was practically on the floor even hours later. Much to the silent amusement of her traveling companion.
They’d been traveling for roughly two days since leaving the farmstead they’d camped down for the night.
Fortunately, they’d not come across any trouble on the road, nor anymore goblins. They’d informed the few travelers heading in the opposite direction of roughly what had happened at the hamlet, warning them to be wary of more goblins roaming the area.
Now, around midday or so, their wagon steadily approached an imposing fortress squatting base of the fortress, joining a queue of others heading into the city. Loud waterfalls roared down on either side of the fortress, spraying a mist of fresh water heavily into the air.
Nethlia had to shout to be heard over the roaring deluge. She shared with Autumn what she knew of the city, having lived in it for several years.
“The city is divided into two distinct sections,” she said. “The Upper City and the Lower Bastion. The Lower Bastion is reserved for the Duskguard, the stables, and to store any goods intended to head onto Oldgrave, while everybody else lives in the city above.”
“Seriously?!” Autumn shouted in disbelief. She was having a hard time grasping the scope of the city and how high up it was. “How does anyone live up there? I mean, come on! It’s higher than some clouds!”
Nethlia shrugged. “Eh, you get used to it. The city is large enough that as long as you stay off the walls, you can forget that you’re even on a mountaintop.”
“Now, the Lower Bastion is the only official entrance into the city, and we have to pass through the Dusk, Tiger, and Serpent gates to get up there.”
Autumn glanced nervously at the zig-zagging path etched into the mountain leading up to the city. It looked far too narrow for the wagon to traverse, and there were gaps spanned only by swinging rope bridges. “Uh, is there not a lift we could take instead,” she asked, hopefully.
“There is,” Nethlia said, raising Autumn’s hopes before swiftly dashing them. “But those are reserved for heavy goods. We have to walk.”
The lifts that Nethlia was talking about were a series of dwarven-made elevators built into the interior of the mountain alongside a hive of grand sewers, waterways, pumps, and other necessary infrastructure needed to keep the city running. While it’d been a costly project, running many dragons’ hordes worth of gold over thousands of years, it’d been a necessary one, and nobody knew how to build within a mountain like the dwarves did.
Autumn listened intently as they approached the outer gate of the Lower Bastion – the Dusk Gate.
The Dusk Gate and its walls and towers were built from the same stone as the mountain behind it. A handful of wooden towers sat on the walls, watching over the lands and approaching wagons. The watchtowers themselves were made of red wood and capped by blue tiles that curved up at the ends of the roofs like horns. At the base of the gatehouse, a pair of guardian statues sat on either side of the towering gate, both bearing the likeness of the three-headed sentry of the underworld, Cerberus.
Peeking at the battlements, Autumn could see the shadows of the men and women of the watch moving between the watchtowers on patrol. Not all were of demonkind, but she couldn’t make out which races they were from this distance.
Autumn turned her attention back to the line she was stuck in.
In front of them, a tiny face peeked over the back of a wheat cart, staring wide-eyed at the human known as Autumn. The Inferni girl couldn’t have been older than eight or nine years old. She had bright orange skin and tiny nubs of horns peeking out of her unruly, dusty head of hair.
The hell-child was clearly enraptured, if a little bit frightened, by the sight of Autumn. Likely, she’d even seen a human before, and had only heard tales about how they eat little Inferni who don’t finish their meals, or some such rubbish.
Autumn didn’t mind being stared at when it was innocent. She could do without the harsher staring from everybody else around though.
Time ground to a crawl as the line slowly meandered towards the gatehouse.
Bored, Autumn turned her eyes back to Nethlia. “So, where exactly are we staying again?”
“At the place I used to work,” Nethlia replied. “While I was an adventurer, I used to stay at this place and provide protection in exchange for a place to stay. It’s, uh, hard to explain…but, it’s a decent place.”
“Is it an inn or something?”
Nethlia hesitated. “Uh, not exactly…it’s what you might call a…bordello.”
“A bordello…?” Autumn trailed off, scratching her temple in confusion. It took a moment for her to understand. She turned bright red. “You mean a brothel?!”
“Shh!” Nethlia hushed her. Thankfully, her outburst was drowned out by the waterfalls. “Not exactly, they offer more than just sex. It’s about comfort and relaxation more than anything. Most people just need someone to talk to. Uh, they do have rooms for, um, intimate encounters, though. Not that I did anything like that! I just worked security.”
Autumn took a moment to get her blush under control. “Oh. T-that’s…okay? So is…prostitution legal here? In the empire?”
“To an extent. There are laws and stuff about it, but I didn’t learn much about them, and it’s relegated mostly to the red-lantern districts. Duskfield’s is placed at the edge of the city, against the western wall,” Nethlia took the time to explain. “Is that not the same in your home?”
“No,” Autumn shook her head, still blushing. “It’s very much illegal back home.”
“Weird.”
Autumn shrugged. “It’s weird to hear that it’s not here. But, um, why are we staying at a…bordello, and not like an inn or something? I get wanting to find some extra work, but it’s still a…still that kind of place.” She didn’t really like the idea of staying at a brothel or bordello, even if it wasn’t how she was imagining it, or even if they only stayed long enough to find another place.
Her face was blazing bright by the time she finished speaking.
Nethlia hummed. “You’re underestimating just how hard it’ll be to find a place to stay anywhere else,” she said before pointing up at the city above them. “See that city up there? It has a very finite amount of room, and the inns are almost all full, or far too expensive for us. Plus I know the folks where we’re going, and they’re good people. Just trust me.”
Autumn eyed the demoness for a moment, but decided to trust her. “Okay. I’ll trust you, for now.”
Sighing slightly in relief, Nethlia turned the conversation to the next point of business. Their party composition. “Now, once we join up with the guild, we’ll likely want to take on a few members if we want to work harder jobs. We could just stick with the two of us, but that’s dangerous, and likely to get us badly hurt or killed in the long run.”
“Why do we want to take on harder work right away?” Autumn wasn’t opposed to doing so. She assumed that harder quests would grant them more gold, thus shortening the time it took for her to find a way home. Still, it was best to question these things.
“Cause being an adventurer is expensive,” Nethlia said simply. “You’ve got food, gear, supplies, magic items, repairs, bills, and fees to pay for. All of which costs gold. Not to mention whatever spells you’ll want to buy from the Mages’ Quarters.”
Autumn perked up at the mention of purchasing spells. Although she had her own jam-packed spellbook, it wouldn’t hurt to diversify her magical portfolio. “Alright, that makes sense. But who would we even need?”
“It really depends on what we’ll be going up against, or what kind of jobs we’ll likely be taking. Given that we expect to encounter more fey eventually, we’ll want to pick people who have experience dealing with them. If they are available. Also, it’d be best if we were upfront about the fey,” Nethlia said, giving Autumn a serious look. “You don’t need to go into your whole history, but concealing that kind of danger from them would be a bad idea.”
Guilt, fear, and shame squirmed in her gut. Autumn wasn’t just concealing that she was being chased by the fey, but that she was from another world. Hopefully it wouldn’t matter. At least, until she could figure out if outsiders like herself were hunted here.
She’d tell Nethlia…eventually.
“Okay, I’ll tell them,” Autumn said, breathing steadily to calm her nerves. “How many people were you thinking exactly to join our party?”
“Again, it depends on what we need and who is available. I’m a good damage-dealer, and you’ve got magic covered, somewhat. So we’ll likely need a healer, someone for defense, and likely a rogue at minimum.”
Autumn blinked. “I get the healer and a tank, but why a rogue?”
Nethlia looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Do you know how to pick a lock? Cause I don’t. And there is always a locked chest, or door, or something that could use a hand fairer than my hammer when we need it.”
“Fair.” Autumn hadn’t stolen a thing in her life. She hadn’t shoplifted or walked away with something that wasn’t hers back on Earth, let alone learned how to lockpick. She wouldn’t even know where to begin. “Alright, so a healer, a tank, and a rogue. So three more people? Maybe four?”
“Sounds about right. But what’s a tank?”
“Oh, um, well, it’s a word for someone who can take a lot of damage,” Autumn said, sweating slightly.
Thankfully, Nethlia was distracted by the moving line to ponder her misspoken, odd words. By now, they were only a few cart-lengths from the gates. “Looks like we’re up next, and we’ve been noticed.”
Glancing ahead in the direction Nethlia had nodded past the cart in front of them, Autumn noticed that the Duskguard on the ground who’d been inspecting the carts were looking in their direction now. Specifically, they were looking at Autumn, the human. Nethlia remained calm beside her, although she kept her warhammer within reach. “Just stay calm and let me do the talking.”
Autumn nodded nervously in reply.
As the guards waved the cart in front of them through, the little girl in its back waved shyly goodbye to Autumn, earning a twitch at the corner of the witch’s mouth. Autumn turned her eyes towards the guards as Nethlia spurred Kira, their Angoroth, to approach them.
Each of the guards wore lamellar armor made of bone or horn reinforced by copper or brass. Their helms were of similar make, protecting their heads with skullcaps of bone and their faces with a T-shaped noseguard. Those of higher ranks possessed a horsetail flowing from the peak of their helms and blue scarves wrapped around their armored necks.
As for weapons, those that could afford it bore copper, or rarely iron, arming swords at their sides while their main weapon appeared to be long spears tipped with a sharped point of a horn. Those on the walls carried a mixture of bows and crossbows.
Most of the guards arrayed before them were demonkin, evidenced by their horns emerging from their helms, but Autumn spied a few beastkin and other races mixed in with their numbers. Notably, there weren’t any humans.
As Autumn watched, an older demon emerged from beyond the gates, striding over to their wagon with purpose. Given his long, graying hair, the crows' feet around his temples, his more ornate armor, and the way the other guardsmen and women parted before him, Autumn guessed this was the gate captain.
The captain took one look at Nethlia before letting out a sigh. He looked like he wanted to swat whoever had gone to fetch him. The joys of being in charge. His eyes darted to Autumn only once before he approached Nethlia’s side of the wagon. “Nethlia,” he said gruffly.
“Captain Kyron,” the demoness greeted him back.
“I take it you’re not here to make a delivery?” the captain said as his eyes darted toward their relatively empty wagon. His finely honed instincts kicked in. “Trouble?”
Nethlia nodded solemnly. “Goblins raided the village. Me and her are the only survivors from the town itself,” she said, gesturing to Autumn sitting beside her. The captain gave her a long look before looking back at Nethlia as the demoness continued speaking. “The rest of the farmfolk came to deal with the dead. We’re not sure if there are anymore goblin parties out there. We didn’t see any coming in.”
“Shit,” Captain Kyron said succinctly. “And Orzon?”
“Dead.”
The captain was silent for a moment, mourning his old friend. When he looked back up, his eyes were like steel. “I’ll round up some of the lads to do some patrols out that way. It’ll be good to get them out of the city and get the lay of the land. Just goblins, you say? No other greenskins?”
Nethlia shook her head. “Not that we saw. It was just redcaps. The farmers could use some aid from the temples to help clean up. My friend here helped set up some totems to scare off the goblins, so those are what they are for if you come across them. They could also use supplies and a new blacksmith.”
At her words, the captain’s eyes turned to Autumn, scrutinizing her. “And you vouch for this…human?” he asked Nethlia.
Autumn’s eyes narrowed. However, before she could say something stupid, Nethlia spoke before she could. “I do. She’s just a traveler, not even from the south. She helped fend off the goblins and is looking to join the adventurer’s guild in the city.”
“You coming back to the city then?”
“Yeah,” Nethlia said simply.
Captain Kyron glanced between them for a moment, chewing over his thoughts. “Well, there’s no rule against a human entering the city. Just keep an eye on her.”
“I have a name, you know,” Autumn snapped, unable to contain her annoyance any longer.
Nethlia looked to the sky in exasperation.
“I’m sure you do, and I don’t care,” the captain replied dismissively. “And as long as you don’t break the rules, I’ll continue not to care about you. No casting in public. No large-scale rituals, summonings, transformations, divinations, or other spells unless you have a permit. And especially no necromancy,” he said, ticking off the rules with his fingers. “Got it?”
Autumn nodded tightly. “Got it.”
Satisfied that he’d delivered his warning, and that she’d listened, the captain’s eyes turned back to Nethlia and he spoke in a bored tone. “Now, are you carrying anything of danger to the city, the guard, and/or the people? I really don’t want to have to search your wagon – the line is long enough as it is.”
“Nope, nothing like that,” Nethlia replied honestly. “Just our traveling stuff.”
“Alright, move on through then.” Dismissing them, the captain had the guards blocking the gate move aside to let them through. With a flick of the reins, Nethlia guided Kira beneath the imposing gatehouse. Various dark murderholes hung above their heads, ready to rain down death upon any invaders.
Thankfully, death didn’t rain down on them today.
Nethlia sighed. “Well, that went well. Next time, try to hold it in. Others might not be as polite as the captain.”
Embarrassed and annoyed, Autumn ducked her head, hiding her face beneath the brim of her hat.
Once they were inside the fortress, Nethlia guided their wagon into a stable. The smell of animals was rather overpowering inside. “We need to stable Kira and our stuff here for as long as we’re staying in the city,” the demoness said as she tossed a few coins to a nearby stableboy. “There isn’t enough room at the top for her, unfortunately. Grab your stuff from the back.”
Clambering down from the wagon, Autumn grabbed her things as she gazed around at the small menagerie of animals. There were a dozen more Angoroths stabled here, alongside a few horses with black coats, flaming manes, and sharp teeth. “Nightmares,” Nethlia told her. There was even a three-headed puppy about the size of an adult dog dozing sleepily in a pile of hay and chewed bones.
Before Autumn could try and pet it, Nethlia pulled her out of the stable, making a beeline for the inner gate – the Tiger Gate.
Autumn stared up at the switchback path seemingly ascending toward heaven. “Are we really going to climb that?” She tried not to whine, but her voice definitely came out weedier than she wanted.
“Yup!” Nethlia beamed as she shouldered her much heavier pack. “Look at it this way, you need to get into much better shape anyway if you want to be an adventurer. This?” she asked, gesturing to the pathway before them as they stepped onto the first step of many beyond the Tiger Gate.
“This is just the start.”