Collective groans rose around the energetic young professor leading his charges in a dead sprint.
<
A defeated voice cut over the huffing and puffing of his peers, “ As if Wielding a word or two will make any difference for us.”
<
The loosely dressed man clapped twice, and the rows of kids switched paces.
<< Every one of you could become the next pillar of our Federation, so quit your grumbling and get in the front. If you have time to complain, you are not trying hard enough.>> “
Tapes from the Glorious Freedom Curriculum, one of a few main training hubs operating in the Federation's nominally claimed territories.
After a few hours of steady walking, coasting the sandy beach to look for any kind of human presence, the young hunter's sharpened senses picked up a couple of noises cutting through the quiet forest air.
Boisterous laughs, the ding of metal hitting metal, shouts, and whistles.
His destination was near, and his nerves were excitedly shaking.
Herbert had come through, he had a path to civilization and one more avenue to explore while planning for the future.
He veered off from the woods, opting to show his presence to the islanders by instead walking on the golden stretches making up the isle's shores.
Omri did not go unnoticed for long, feeling multiple gazes trained on him as he approached the settlement.
Outside its walls, few houses stood out from the rest, each stocky building a couple of stories high, the squat roofs of sturdy wood overseeing the town from higher up.
The short palisade encircling the main burg had a single opening, a shoddy gate with two unmanned guard posts on the sides that gave way to what looked to be a small market, rows of produce hanging in the shadows of a few covered stalls.
In the distance, Omri could see a stone chapel, the bell tower looking down on the rest of the wooden buildings, a proud noble judging his subjects.
An int of displeasure showed on his features, quickly schooled away as he reached and passed the small gate, while many locals, caught off guard by the stranger, stared with impunity as the boy made his way through the main street.
He, too, was glancing around, almost confused by the attention generated by his presence.
“Hmm, the hermit mentioned a settlement, but this looks more like a small village,” thought the boy as he searched the market ”And yet, I’m still garnering this much attention”, he wondered ”They probably see the same merchants every once in a while, and I must be a pretty strange sight after all”.
He idly mused if one of the locals would confirm his doubts, but discarded the idea, considering how everyone gave him a wide berth.
Fortunately for him, the place was not particularly large, and within minutes he found his first target for the trip.
In the town square, past the pungent-smelling fishmongers populating the main road, a small plaza opened up, the few houses on the sides appearing better than the rest, but what got the boy’s attention was the merchants.
The place was quiet, with a handful of people busy observing and haggling over the items for sale, a wide array of goods and tools displayed in each busy stall.
Considering the wares in his possession, Omri decided to find a tanner or a cobbler, since converting his pelts into legal tender was one of his priorities.
He found what he was looking for in a nook between two other stands, a small sign with a thread and a leather patch greeting him, while boots, gloves, strips of leather, and other small animal-derived items lay on the counter.
Helming the front desk sat a young woman, focused on skinning a small squirrel-like animal with the help of a wooden frame.
She had brown wavy hair tied behind her head in a tight bun, a sharp-featured face, the small cutting chin mellowed by her rounder cheeks, and the same tanned skin as the colony's inhabitants.
Distracted by her work, she did not immediately sense Omri's approach, but as the busy chattering of trades and deals being reached slowed down to a halt, she lifted her eyes, meeting the hopeful gaze of the pelt-peddling hunter.
He saw uncertainty, clear in the saleswoman's eyes, caught staring at him like a deer staring at its predator.
“Am I that scary? I mean, she is not running away, so it should be more like surprise...maybe confusion?” the boy thought, quickly glancing at his attire, the woven pelts full of satchel and bone implements hanging close to his razor-sharp blades.
He imagined himself not too far from a common adventurer, as his masters had described them, but maybe his assumption had not been totally on the mark.
Or maybe, the village did not enjoy a great adventuring presence.
Whatever the case, it didn’t help his current situation, and as the silence between the two began to stretch out, he decided to take the first step forward.
His voice came out loud in the quiet of the plaza, the feeling of eyes out of his vision locking on him almost as unnerving as his first night in the forest darkness, but he still managed to express himself, his tone polite and clear.
“Hello, miss, I have found myself in possession of some skins and furs here that I would like to sell. Could you take a look at the lot and tell me if there is anything you are interested in buying?”
He plastered what he knew to be a winning smile on his face for good measure.
The young woman's face briefly became unintelligible, confusion and pity warring on her expression, before understanding reached her eyes.
After a last second of hesitation, the girl answered him.
“Yes, of course, I can check it Mr Vagrant ... but without my father's presence I can't buy anything, he's the one that decides about all the shop’s sales, I'm sorry,” the shopkeeper said in a soothing voice, maybe worried about giving bad news to the big barefooted man dressed like a savage.
The boy looked around, taking stock of the other patrons, simply clad in sober but well-made attire, before checking himself out once more.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
They deftly avoided his wandering eyes.
“Okay, I see where the misunderstanding could come from”.
“I may look a bit rough, but it’s just part of the job, I swear! I’m an…adventurer, and I’ve come to trade strong, good-quality pelts, carved and treated straight from their source”.
Answered Omri, who, without wasting time, had started unrolling the various bundles, carefully placing each item on the counter.
The clerk's gaze was still doubtful, but a shade of interest could be heard in her voice:” Well, usually the adventurers we see look like disheveled soldiers rather than mad forest hermits”.
She picked up a wide square of bear hide “But this stuff is the real deal. It has been treated like shit, but the leather quality is incredibly high”.
Pulling and stretching the sturdy material, she sighed and put down the pelt, “Yet, Dad is not here, and he hasn't been feeling well for a few days now, so I still can’t call the shots”.
The young hunter grimaced at the news. This was a problem.
Depending on how long it took the man to get back in shape, he could be stranded in the streets for a while.
It was not a big deal, but as the girl clearly pointed out with her banter, leaning into the beggar's motif would probably not be the best for his image.
Seemingly reading his mind, she smiled at him and loudly misjudged his thoughts, “You don’t have to worry about him, Mr, it should be nothing serious. The old ox will probably be there tomorrow, haggling and shouting. Mmmh, the day after tomorrow at the latest, if Momma is making his favorite pie”.
“Two days is not as bad as I expected, but still not optimal. I’ll be damned if I end up having to sleep in my boat” he thought as the young girl examined his goods.
Each skin she went through had something wrong with it, and, more than once, she clicked her tongue in displeasure.
“This one is not great, it almost looks roasted…maybe we can salvage it with some treatments, tho,” she said, picking up one of the smaller cuts and tapping it against the counter to underline the next point.
A wet thumping sound rose, while the maroon cut flagged a little “Tough as hell when it should be soft... salvaging the leather will be a pain, but wasting it would just be a damn shame.”
She paused, rubbing her left temple reflectively.
“I don't know...maybe we could lightly treat it, keep it sturdy, and make some stiff armguards.
Some armor straps? I don’t know, we don't usually make any of those. But my father may want to give some to the guards”.
Satisfied with her plans, she interrupted her musings.
“I can't assure you of anything, but I’m reasonably sure my father will want to strike some deal with you, even if we can’t get the whole batch”.
Without waiting for an answer, she continued.
“And about that huge...bearskin? I already have to tell you that we can’t deal with untanned products of this size, however, it still looks salvageable to me”.
Leaving her counter, she got on her toes to point to the right side of the gate down the road.
“You should take it to the tanner and see what he thinks, you’ll find him in the group of houses right out of the gate, near the edge of the forest. Owen’s a rough cunt but he’s honest, and If you want to make something out of that hide, the right man for the job”.
Despite the poor start, with the last slew of information, the young hunter counted the exchange as a total victory, and, deciding to end on a good note, smiled at his helper and gently nodded.
“I understand, thanks for the help, I’ll be sure to stop by in the next few days, to check on your father's health, and see what he thinks about my merchandise”.
Taking a few minutes to rewrap his things, he found a comfortable silence filling the air as the merchant’s daughter resumed her brutal confrontation with the squirrel pelt.
Once he was done, he nodded at the helpful girl and turned to leave, stopping in his tracks just a second later, surprised to see three rough-looking men, batons swinging at their sides, lined up to block his path.
“Trouble,” thought the boy, as his gaze turned away from the guards, landing on a well-dressed man with a hawkish nose.
A pair of small round glasses rested on the bridge of his brow, his cold eyes firmly pointed at Omri’s figure.
Although the boy was a little irritated at being singled out, the conversation with the clerk had told him enough about his current appearance, so he understood where those people were coming from.
Also, he didn’t find a single intimidating bone shared between the three guards, who all looked more confused than anything else at the situation.
The group reached what they thought was a safe distance, while still staying close enough to hold a conversation without shouting, the bigger men giving way to the austere officer.
“Welcome, stranger, to Olfsand. My name is Olivar Thain, and I am the superintendent of this community. You may call me Mr Thain, or Major Thain,” coldly enunciated the stranger.
“And while we are understanding of the…eccentricities of men of adventure such as yourself, I would advise you to get your act together sooner rather than later.”
Seeing a bit of redness on the youngster's brows, he quickly added, “I would not usually go out of my way to warn someone in such a way, but your presence has truly rippled through town like a wildfire”.
To soften the blow, a last sentence left his lips. “Understand that we don’t want to disrespect you and your profession: we simply are a tight-knit community and we need to look out for each other”.
His piece said the man waited for an answer, his piercing gaze firmly trained on Omri’s own, who, while a bit embarrassed, felt weirdly at ease when confronted with the newcomer's pragmatic demands, even if he could do with less grandstanding.
Giving a respectful nod of his head, his voice rose, matching the formal tone employed by the Major.
“You won’t have to worry about me, Mr Thain. I may look a bit rough, but I’m just trying to trade my wares, earn some coin, and pick up some tools. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible, and I’ll make sure to contribute to the town when I visit”.
The boy's little speech seemingly didn’t work on Olivar, his brows furrowing more and more with each sentence, his gaze analyzing Omri’s expression with the meticulousness of an astronomer searching for a new star.
Looking for a crack, for a lie.
The young hunter started to feel truly uncomfortable under the stare’s pressure, especially considering that he truly meant every word he said.
He didn’t know why his interlocutor suddenly turned on the unnerving act, and, right as he opened his mouth to try and persuade him of his sincerity, he saw a wooden shoe arch towards Mr Thain, who easily sidestepped the projectile.
It hit the head of one of his lackeys, the dull thud eliciting a mild “Ouch” a few seconds after the impact.
“Come on, Olivar, leave the guy alone! Don’t you see he is perfectly reasonable? He’s been polite the whole talk with little Beth there, and I don’t remember us being so close-minded just because someone smelled a bit off!“
An old lady, pretty quick for her age, springily wobbled toward the middle of the group, one of her feet bare, as she held out her right hand to the major.
The thain's left brow started to twitch before he huffed, reaching behind his back.
One of his goons offered him the offending shoe, and he gave it to the original owner, who quickly put the wooden clog back in its rightful place.
“What of our famous hospitality, I say! Are we becoming so cold as to turn away our fellow man?”
Olivar Thain looked like a commander, too many times defeated by his opponent, willing to surrender just to keep some honor in front of his troops.
“Of course, Mabel, I was not trying to drive anyone away! I just thought that maybe, just maybe, vetting the dangerously armed, strange newcomer would be the right move for the community. But since you vouch for him, I guess that everything is all right, no?”
The thin officer started to massage his strained temples, before muttering a “Whatever” and pointing a finger at Omri.
“You, I’ll hold you to your words. Don’t bring trouble to our doorsteps, and don’t make trouble for Mabel: old mad coot that she is, she has a golden heart, so help me god I’ll kick you out of my town at the first complaint she has”.
“Mabel, please don’t be reckless. I beg you from the bottom of my heart”.
The woman huffed and puffed, almost shaking with outrage.
“Olivar Marshal Thain, I’ve changed your diapers for four years of your life, and your father before you, family of slow-walking cods! And I’ll be damned before I’m wrong about a person, as you well know it!”
Omri stood still through the chaos, recognizing a top predator when he saw one.
The plump silver whirlwind that was the old villager hooked her arm around his, and, shouting with a tone that brokered no argument, loudly announced.
“Come on, you big lug, let’s get you all cleaned up and sorted out! I’ll let your pretty face shine through soon enough!”
He clearly misunderstood the situation.
It was a trap.
Confusion on his face, he let himself be dragged away, missing old Mabel uttering a single last sentence.
“The poor lad…at such a young age…”