The Hero and the Healer headed off to New Frontierland’s library, mostly for a map. While Ronn’s memory was very good, he wasn’t going to rely on that entirely to traverse the way to Fort Logger.

It didn’t take long for the two to find some maps and diagrams of the place. The librarians were more than willing to help the Hero gather the existing maps they had, and laid them out on a large table for Ronn to look over.

Some were outdated, dating as far back as to before the War itself. But they managed to find a very up-to-date one to survey.

Splayed out in front of Ronn and Junil was a large map of the surrounding towns and cities. However, the areas of most relevance were the areas that Ronn was pointing directly to.

“This map appears to be a little dated, but it will do.” he said. “Here we are, at New Frontierland. And this...”

His finger slid over to a nearby landmark, labeled Fort Logger.

“Is where we are going. Fort Logger is atop a particularly tall hill, connected directly to New Frontierland by a narrow raised canal.”

“Did I hear that correctly, a canal?” Junil asked.

“Yes, though it is more a waterslide than a canal. It is used for timber rafting. They bind up wooden logs together to float down the canal.”

Junil blinked, looking down at the map. “That’s rather ingenious.”

“Indeed. But our main concern is this.”

Ronn’s finger moved from Fort Logger to a canyon that was located between Grand Elm and New Frontierland. “A river runs down the canyon here. It’s a major transport hub for grain barges. They typically make stops right here.”

His finger traced down the river until it stopped at a labelled point on the map, right at the base of the hill that Fort Logger was located atop.

“That river leads to a small unloading dock at the base of Fort Logger’s hill. From there is a direct trail that goes all the way...”

His finger traced up.

“...to Fort Logger. Right across from Fort Logger, of course, is New Frontierland. She has a direct path to the Capital from there.”

Junil looked down at the map with wide eyes. Make no mistake, she absolutely saw how that Demonfolk girl could make her way to the Demon Lord.

“This is... This all has to be a coincidence,” Junil said. “She couldn’t possibly have thought this all on her own.”

“A coincidence has to happen by chance. This was all planned.”

“By her, really?” the Healer asked. “She didn’t seem all that bright when I talked to her.”

Ronn simply stood there, and stared at Junil. The Healer suddenly felt uncomfortable where she was.

“You are being fooled,” he said. “People are very well capable of acting unintelligent.”

Junil frowned. “Yes, but she sounded so...”

“Innocent?” he asked. “Remember, this is the Demon Lord’s sister we are speaking of. There is little reason for me to believe that Lord Luth has no plans regarding her.”

The Healer bit her lip. As much as she wanted to say otherwise, thinking of her little conversation with the Demonfolk girl, Ronn had a point. That girl, Sollar... she could be faking the impressions of being a simpleton.

“...Then, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for us to be safe,” she finally admitted. “But the idea that it’s all planned, really? Isn’t that more far-fetched or whatever?”

“If it just so happened to entirely be a coincidence, it certainly is not one in our favor,” Ronn replied. He stopped talking and continued to shuffle through some more pages of a record book in his hands.

“It appears that these records only show Fort Logger audits. Junil, may you check the other record booklet of Fort Logger?”

Junil picked up another record book that was in front of her and began flipping through it. “What am I looking for?”

“The name of the individual who is currently the head of the logging operations at Fort Logger.”

Junil flipped a few pages, then stopped on one. She glanced over it swiftly, seeing that this page was a list of individuals managing the location.

“Hmmm... it looks like the current head of operations at Fort Logger is Tila.”

Junil looked up at Ronn. The Hero had a hand on his chin, in thought.

“Tila, you said the name was? It sounds familiar,” he stated. “Give me a moment to think.”

“Is she someone you know?”

“Most likely. However, I’ve met many people over the duration of the war. They all undoubtedly know me, but sometimes I am unable to reciprocate my awareness of them.”

“Must be a challenge to memorize so many names,” Junil added.

“Names are, unfortunately, not my specialty,” Ronn continued. “However, I am far better at remembering faces. I will likely recall who it is once I meet them again.”

The Hero had placed on the desk a fresh sheet of paper, of which he used to visually copy a small section of one of the maps that led directly from New Frontierland to Fort Logger.

“There are also a few additional steps we require to prepare,” Ronn said. “I shall send them a messenger pigeon so that they are aware of our arrival. We may also require a resupply.”

“Of?” Junil asked.

“Food provisions, water. And potions, in the event we may require healing,” the Hero stated. “Additionally, the weather appears to be turning. We should obtain rain-resistant gear, too.”

“Sounds reasonable. Except the potions. Those will break the bank,” Junil said. “I don’t have as much of a fund as you do for that.”

“You may simply take out of my fund for the potions, then.”

The Healer shook her head. “With the price they are now? One, at most. Two if you wanna go broke.”

“We will buy, at minimum, one,” Ronn continued.

Junil glanced up at the Hero.

“Do you really carry that much cash on you?” she asked. “Considering that you paid a lot of it upfront to the rail engine’s ticket booth for damages.”

“Indeed, I do,” Ronn replied. “I will withdraw more from the local bank if I see fit. However, I do not believe we require any additional funding.”

Junil rolled her eyes and sighed. “Whatever you think we need, sure...”

After taking a few minutes to roll up the maps and stash away the books they pulled off the shelves, the two stepped out of the library. Ronn had written a message on a note that he attached to one of the legs of Skarrol’s pigeon, before he proceeded to allow the pigeon to lift off from his hands.

It didn’t take long for them to gather the supplies they needed; they went to a local New Frontierland bakery, to Junil’s disdain, to buy some hardy bread and dried jerky. 

Junil chewed on one of the loaves. “Yeah, stale as always. Typical New Frontierland food service. Bet this was baked two days ago.”

“If it fills your stomach, do not complain,” Ronn lectured.

“The stuff on the Frontier is fresher,” Junil retorted. “And cheaper, too.”

Next came buying the potion. Junil was the one who personally haggled with the merchant; even the presence of the Hero right behind her didn’t get them to bring the price down any further.

Junil regretfully handed over the money as the potion seller hesitantly handed to her the potion she was purchasing at below-market rates.

“What a waste of money,” Junil muttered. She walked away from the merchant with Ronn by her side, as the Healer handed the glass bottle over to him. “For the same price, you would’ve been able to get a dozen potions before this mess.”

“Markets fluctuate,” Ronn simply said.

“This is mostly Fraul’s fault, though, it’s not like potions naturally became that much more expensive overnight...”

“Regardless,” the Hero continued. “We must weather whatever issues we may have. If we have the money to purchase the potions, even if they are expensive... we purchase them if they are necessary.”

Next were the raincoats, which the two purchased at a local clothing store. Due to their somewhat dwindling funds, Ronn decided that the cheaper yet equally-functional straw coats were a preferable alternative over the burlap ones.

“Logically, we will likely only use these once,” Ronn stated. “And we can likely resell these up at Fort Logger to recoup the cost, should the rain stop by then. The burlap ones cost more, to compare.”

Junil frowned. She had the straw coat wrapped around her body and head, and was trying her best not to scratch at it.

“It’s ridiculously itchy, I can feel it poking through my clothes,” she complained.

“You tightened it too much around yourself. It should be hanging loosely. Let me help.”

“I know how to handle my own clothes, Ronn.”

It wasn’t long before the two set off to Fort Logger. There was a dirt trail that headed up the particularly steep hill, some areas so steep that the walk looked more like a climb than anything else.

Fort Logger, despite being relatively close to New Frontierland, was difficult to get to from there. Most of the supplies and personnel there were brought in through the river barges, on the other side of the hill. The side facing the port town was much steeper and rockier, and to get around it was to go through a particularly dense forest.

The two didn’t really converse much as they started to traverse up the trail. It went downhill for a bit, before sloping back up and meeting the particularly steep section of hill that went directly to the fort.

As he walked, Ronn glanced at his broadsword and rubbed at the area that was chipped. The earlier clash with Sollar was on his mind, and he had noticed that her spade managed to damage his weapon.

Junil looked over, and frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”

“The Second Coming has managed to chip my blade,” he said. “It appears that I will eventually need to take my sword in for a repair.”

The Healer blinked. “I thought you had that made by some of the best blacksmiths around?”

“The Demon Lord’s weapons are of much higher quality than weapons made by even the best of Humans.”

“...Are you saying your sword is bad?” Junil asked. She grimaced for a second, scratching at her side as some of the straw raincoat poked at her.

Ronn glanced down at her.

“I am not saying that Human blacksmiths and artisans produce poor-quality products. However, for one-off custom-made tools and equipment, the Demonfolk tend to be much more refined in their process.”

Junil looked up into the sky, in thought. “Really? I didn’t know that, I just thought they sometimes seemed more powerful because of... magic.”

“The magic, too,” Ronn added. “But their weapons are of extraordinary quality. They are typically handmade and custom-tailored to the user.”

Junil flicked her wand out of her sleeve and raised it up. “But our weapons are custom-made too, aren’t they?”

“Ours are exceptions. Custom-making a weapon is prohibitively expensive. Human armies all use mass-produced equipment. We, as the Hero Party, have the funding to procure our own.”

“And I’m guessing that custom-made weapons are better in every way?”

“They are geared for the user. Your wand and staff are designed specifically for healing. Fraul’s staff is designed to exploit her immense magical reserves. Salkin’s crossbow is made to efficiently utilize the lesser amounts of magic he can harness.”

Junil nodded. “Huh... that makes me wonder. You should go to a Demonfolk to get a better weapon, then.”

There was silence for a few seconds, as the two continued walking.

“And you should’ve gotten better raincoats, too,” the Healer complained. “Anyway, why don’t you? Better weapon, custom-made just for you?”

“Doing so would not be the best of ideas,” Ronn replied, promptly.

“Well, if you have enough money...”

“Payment is not an issue. Rather, it is the issue of the Human’s Hero asking a member of the Demonfolk to personally craft him a weapon. The potential implications could be troublesome.”

“You could... keep that a secret,” Junil suggested. “You said it yourself, we’re not at war anymore. What’s the problem?”

“In the legal sense, there is none,” Ronn confirmed. “But there are other factors that must be considered. Such as public perception.”

Junil shrugged. “Then keep it a secret. Actually... but you’d probably consider that dishonest, wouldn’t you?”

“It is not dishonest, admittedly,” was the man’s immediate reply. “However, it would be difficult to keep it a secret while answering truthfully, should someone ask a question.”

Junil’s eyes flickered back over Ronn's broadsword.

“Who’ll ask you a question about that, though?”

“There is always a possibility that line of conversation could come up.”

“Ronn, in all the Hero Party mixers that I’ve had to accompany you to, I’ve never heard them ask a question about your sword. It’s always about your technique, how it was to fight in the war, your magic... stuff like that.”

“That does not mean it could not happen,” Ronn replied. “Additionally, an audit would turn particularly ugly should they figure that I am attempting to mask my own spending.”

“It’s your own money!” the Healer exclaimed. “Why should they care how you spend it? You’re the Hero, for goodness’ sake!”

“The law applies equally to all. I am no exception.”

Junil sighed. She couldn’t argue with Ronn over the legality of anything. He was a stickler for that.

“Fine. Don’t think I can convince you, but I might look into getting a Demonfolk-made weapon myself.”

“Miss Junil...”

“What are you gonna do, stop me from spending my own money? It’s not like I’m gonna grow horns the moment I cast magic with it.”

“There might be a risk,” Ronn quickly added. “I have not heard of any case studies of Humans utilizing Demonfolk equipment before.”

Junil glanced up at Ronn, then scoffed. “If I become a Demonfolk? I mean, as treasonous as this may sound, might as well. I’ll be able to experiment on myself for the Demonfolk medical trials then. The ones that no Demonfolk would willingly sign up for.”

“That sounds like an incredibly irresponsible course of action, Miss Junil.”

“Hey, what do you know? Give me a stupid premise, and I’ll give you a stupid response.”