We took our lunch again on the road, only stopping to refill our waterskins or take bathroom breaks. Other than the bread, the rations weren’t too bad, as long as you can stomach smoky salted meat, dried fruit and cheese that was as hard as it was sharp. It wasn’t a home-cooked dinner, I hadn’t had many of those in recent years, but we had plenty of it and it was filling. I didn’t hate the taste either, even if it was slightly monotonous.

Talking about monotonous, instead of the alternating streams, meadows and forests from yesterday, today we had the pleasant addition of farmland.

The closer we got to Fort Brightspring, the less forest we saw and what we did see was in small clusters and clumps that grew thinner and less untamed the further we went. 

We were definitely leaving the wilderness now.

It was the start of summer in-game and the farms reflected it, the fields had been plowed and planted the previous season, now there were green rows of growing wheat and barley. Cattle and horses grazed in paddocks still full of lush green spring grass that had yet to brown under the summer sun.

Ahead a small river cut across the landscape, passing under a stone bridge with two arcs that were visible thanks to the road’s gentle curve. On both banks of the river were well ordered orchard groves; green and red strawberries almost ready to be picked grew in one grove, while in another tall fruit trees were dropping a carpet of fallen blossoms.

Like I was saying, today’s leg of the journey was anything but monotonous, more than just quietly enjoying the scenery as we walked, Roxi and I had been excitedly pointing out the different sights to each other.

The sun was behind us and only a few hours off setting when we got our first sight of the township of Fort Brightspring. 

At the town’s center on a tall hill stood our destination, a walled fortress flying green banners that towered over its surroundings. A stream sparkling in the afternoon sun poured out of a culvert in its wall and then through the town.  From here we could make the ordered rows of houses and shops of the inner town with their bright white walls and dark tiled roofs built on the sides of the hill.

The inner town was protected by a stone wall maybe twenty to thirty feet tall built in the same style as the fort. Then sprawled outside the town’s walls, at the base of the hill, was the outer town which was visibly poorer even at this distance.

Unlike the inner town with its uniform design and neat almost grid layout, the outer town was a dense mess of mismatched buildings jutting up against one another. They were made of anything and everything, there was fieldstone fitted together with mortar, red bricks, straw and mud, as well as wood constructions like back in Spot.

I had to guess the town had rapidly grown as refugees from outlying lands had come here looking for refuge from the civil war ravaging the Duchy or from the wars to the north.

The farms and fields directly surrounding the outer town were a sea of white cloth, glinting metal and brown torn and muddy turf. Rows upon rows of tents had been erected with soldiers casually wandering between them. Regardless of if they were armored in padded cloth and leather or mail of chain or scale, each soldier wore green cloth to mark their allegiance in the forms of simple armbands, tabards worn over their armor or rich cloaks.

The closer we got, the more the town dominated our vision, almost as if it was growing up out of the ground. It had looked small as we approached from afar, especially by real world standards, but now that we were right here it suddenly felt huge and real.

As we entered the city, we found ourselves passing as many soldiers as we did ordinary townsfolk. 

“Something tells me we won’t be sleeping in an inn tonight,” Roxi grumbled as we made our way towards the Fortress, “I was looking forward to getting a full night’s sleep in a proper bed.”

“You’re probably right, that army’s officers, those not staying up at the fort anyway, probably got first pick of the inns and any soldiers that could probably booked the rest,” I agreed. 

A bed would have been nice, but I wasn’t too upset if we had to sleep outside somewhere. We could probably find some thick spring grass to sleep on and we were fortunate it was summer, that meant warm nights. Winter would have been a different story, especially this close to the mountains. 

“If we’re lucky there might still be a hostel with space or something else. We can ask around after we make the delivery. Maybe the fort will find space for us or help us find somewhere in the town,” I offered attempting to cheer her up, as we passed under an archway in the wall to the inner town. 

The road here was cobblestone with a raised curb on either side, every so often, like little strings of islands, there were rows of raised stones crossing the road, plenty of gaps for the wheels of wagons and carriages to pass between.

“They’re for staying dry when crossing the road in wet weather,” Roxi explained, “You can find them in all sorts of old cities from Roman times through to the middle ages to the nineteenth century. Especially in places that had to deal with heavy rains or seasonal flooding. I’m guessing this place gets heavy autumn rains.”

“That’s cool, but I’d hate to be here when it does. I don’t mind drizzle or gentle rain, but honestly not a fan of torrential rain. Let’s try to travel somewhere else before that happens,” I replied, shivering at the thought. Snow might be cold, but it was also pretty, while cold rain drenched you to your bones and sapped your warmth.

“We’ll deal with it when we get to it. Don’t worry, little kitten, we’ll keep you away from the scary water,” she teased.

* * *

Our journey through the city was fairly uneventful, aside from nearly being run over by a horse-drawn carriage. Roxi managed to pull me out of the way just in time. Then I actually had to try to hold back an enraged Roxi as she yelled expletives after the carriage and attempted to also hurl spells.

That totally wouldn’t have ended well.

Thankfully she had cooled down again by the time we reached the Fortress. Surprisingly the gates were unbarred and open, unsurprisingly there was a squad of soldiers guarding it. The gate’s guards weren’t about to let a pair of scruffy adventurers through, but we’d been given a sealed letter along with the package of mail for just this sort of situation.

Although even with the letter we still had to wait with the guards while a runner took the note to someone higher up. It was almost ten minutes before that higher up managed to find us.

He was tall, that was my first impression, followed by the fact he had some really strange facial hair. Was that seriously what the officers did with their beards these days? Wow. His clothing was nice on the other hand, well made and from a higher class of fabric than I had seen so far in my travels.

He hadn’t come alone either, accompanying him were two guards that were far superior equipped than any we had passed on our way into the city. Unlike the others, they wore a uniform of starched green finely woven wool, over which they wore polished steel plate cuirass, armguards, greaves, and helm, as well as a sheathed blade hanging from each of their belts. In their hands they held an ash pole topped with long spearhead, just above their heads, that looked almost as suited for cutting as piercing.

When he saw us he gave a frown, like we were one more problem to deal with. "Ah yes… messengers, and adventurers to boot. The Postmaster’s office is just inside the Fortress, if you would follow me," he commanded, before spinning on his heel and marching off as if us following after him was a foregone conclusion. 

I guess the two guards falling in behind us as encouragement was enough to assure him of our compliance.

The walk from the gatehouse to the fortress crossed open ground that had been kept clear of any vegetation other than close cropped grass. The trickle and murmur of running water could be heard just out of sight, I guess it must have been the Brightspring of Fort Brightspring.

The fortress again seemed even taller now that we were up close, an intimidating five story stone edifice that loomed over us.

Upon seeing our escort, the guards at the fortress’s entrance stepped aside with an echoing crack to allow us through. Inside we found ourselves in a stone corridor, stone walls, stone floor and stone ceiling. There were no windows on this level and mounted along the wall’s length every dozen or so feet were lit torches. 

Now inside, our journey didn’t go much further as after passing only three thick doors, our guide stopped at an open doorway and gestured for us to enter, “The Postmaster’s office. After you, if you please.”

As if to put additional emphasis on his command, the guards of our escort stepped within breathing distance of our necks and nudged us from behind with the hafts of their spears sending us stumbling lightly into the room.

Now you wouldn’t think a post office was a scary place and this was technically a post office, going by the shelves of partitioned letters and parcels or the messy piles of paper on the large wooden desk in the middle of the room, except this post office had a dozen guards just like the two that had escorted us lining the walls.

“Don’t worry, the guards are here for all our protection. Simply precautions I hope you understand, Blessed have a tendency to be somewhat unpredictable, aggressive and downright suicidal. Now if you could please, hand place the parcel on the desk and let us get down to business,” cautioned an officer who was still facing one of the shelves along the wall reading an opening letter in his hand.

If that doesn’t ring warning bells, I don’t know what would.

Roxi was obviously just as spooked as I was going by the look she gave me as she pulled the quest package out from her inventory and dropped it on the desk before stepping back as if it contained vipers. “Here it is. I imagine you’ll be giving us our reward and sending us on our way now. We are hoping to find somewhere to sleep before night sets in.”

The postmaster spun around and glanced up at us over the letter in his hand, “I don’t think accommodation will be an issue. Now the letter did instruct me to dispose of you just in case, we can’t be absolutely sure you didn’t sneak a peek at the package’s contents while you were transporting it after all, unfortunately it came to the attention of the gate guards that you two are Blessed. We can’t have you two reviving somewhere you can go running your mouths off, so I am going to have to ask you both to cooperate with our guards as they take you to the accommodation where you will be staying until we can safely release you.”

Shit, I guess this was why they needed to take precautions. Not including the two officers, they had us trapped in a not overly large room surrounded by fourteen guards.

“If it is any consolation, your sacrifice will be for the good of a unified and strong Parcosia,” the postmaster offered apologetically, as he moved to keep the wide desk between himself and us.

Is my luck really this bad?