Lohmen spent the next hour or so taking in Kidkam. The new people and buildings should have excited him, but his thoughts kept circling back to the meal with the apprentice. They could have dined together any number of times over the past five years. Why now? Perhaps Yerik knew his commissioners.

To help pass the time, Lohmen perused produce carts and engaged in light conversation with the merchants, something he had avoided in recent years. Their wares were no different than other towns in Umlom, but on this particular day they felt exotic.

“Is this drakebud?” Lohmen asked the spice pedlar. He brought a bunch of short bushy leaves with small, orange flowers to his nose.

“You’ve a good eye! Main ingredient in dragonleaf, but careful with that! Too much and b’fore long the Dragon’s Ass will getchya.” The rotund man replied with a chuckle.

“Understood,” Lohmen replied, smiling. Kahriah had loved making spicy stews but went easy on the Dragon Leaf; her ancient southern upbringing made her more accustomed to exotic flavours than Lohmen’s northern constitution.

Eventually, the hour of the boarchop arrived, and Lohmen made his way to the tavern.

The Heavy Head was spotted quickly enough; the sign depicted a woman wearing an oversized crown canting to the side, though she looked more jovial above the door of a tavern than her stoic counterpart at the town’s gates.

Lohmen pushed through the doors and headed for the middle of the room. His custom for over half a decade. No sooner had he sat than the apprentice walked by and nodded toward a more secluded table in the corner. Lohmen stood and followed. They made odd dinner fellows, the tall and slim, the shaggy painter, and the short, plump and balding bookbinder.

After sitting quietly for a few awkward moments, Yerik broke the silence.

“So what way are you heading? Have you figured out an itinerary of sorts?”

Rusty in the art of simple conversation, Lohmen responded, “I’m working my way east, painting the Banners as I go. I figured I’d try and get to the eastern ports first.”

“I’m on an eastern route as well. I’ll head as far as lu Kipa and then work my way back before starting it all over again.” The apprentice said before the pair fell into another silence.

“I know it’s been five years, but my son….” Lohmen struggled with the next part. “If he’s alive, my son, he was taken. If he was taken, they’d have to leave by sea. This continent isn’t that big.”

The apprentice just nodded solemnly.

“Can I ask why you wanted to meet?” Lohmen asked, more hushed than he had spoken previously.

“I was told….er, heard about a grand commission. They don’t really tell an apprentice much. But then you showed up, the painter whose son disappeared.”

Lohmen was captivated and just stared at Yerik.

“I knew Kahriah.”

Lohmen froze and looked at the apprentice. “How?” A single word laced with confusion.

“She and I had become friends over the years. I never met Thesdon, but Kahriah would always check in when she was in town.”

“She had that effect on everyone, I think.” Lohmen smiled longingly. “You said you heard about the commission….” Lohmen steered the conversation.

“Yes. The commission seems simple enough. A grand tome of census.”

“I haven’t really thought about it. I’ve only just….” Lohmen trailed off, unsure how to explain everything that had happened over the past five years. “What did you hear about it?”

“Not much, I’m afraid, but I saw Tomeera meeting with a mage a few months ago. I was heading back to Munum, and they couldn’t see me. The mage handed Tomeera a package and then departed. The mage just upped and vanished.”

Yerik saw the look on his companion’s face and fell silent. The pragmatic painter who spent five years trying to connect dots had just been given another.

“Maybe if you figure out who the commission is, they can help you find Thesdon. Book Binding is a modest trade; tomes like this aren’t requested often. Somebody should know something. Let me ask around the shops and see what I can uncover. No harm in that. We should be in Ponshmun in Kunnan at the same time. We can catch up then.”

“Thank you,” Lohmen said sincerely. “The commission I…It has helped me branch out to find Thesdon, but I don’t have any clues. So truly, thank you.” He said with grateful sincerity.

“But why would you help me?” When Lohmen asked, a fond but worried look washed over Yerik’s face.

“Ten years ago, my newborn daughter was afflicted with ghoul pox. We hadn’t even given her a name yet. We thought…” He took a quick breath through his nose and paused for a moment. “Kahriah had been in town tending to an elder from one of the high families. As she was packing to leave town, I found her, and she agreed to come. She knew of the affliction and rode out. A few days later, she returned haggard but with herbs and plants I’d never seen before. Kahriah worked all night mixing, checking, mashing and giving my daughter all kinds of compounds and concoctions. My wife and I just prayed. The fever broke the next morning. Dawn is 11 now, and the happiest child you’ve ever seen.” A father’s smile washed over Yerik’s face. “Kahriah brought my girl back. Least I can do is ask a few questions on your behalf.”

Lohmen sat back in his chair. “I remember that trip. Or rather, I remember her being gone…she returned home and slept for two days. She told me of the young girl and asked if I could paint something for her to take the next time–”

“The Morning Sky,” the apprentice interrupted, “I think you called it. Sun breaking over the horizon. Violet, crimson and orange washed over the land. It’s beautiful. It’s been hung proudly in our house ever since.”

“I’m going to help. Without Dawn in my life…” the apprentice stopped himself. “I will help you find Thesdon.”

The two men got up, and Lohmen paid for their fare before Yerik could reach into his pockets.

“It’s the very least I can do.” Lohmen proffered to his dinner companion.

“That’s quite a sum you carry around, Lohmen. You should get to an iron bank.” Lohmen nodded at the suggestion.

Halfway to the door, a rather imposing patron bumped into Yerik, who was believably out of the man’s view. He was not quite as tall as Lohmen but dressed in worn plate and had a greatsword hanging at his hip.

“Watch it, you sarding dwarf.” The man said in a heinous tone.

“I’m not a dwarf. You bumped into me!” The apprentice rebutted nervously while the other man clenched his fist.

Lohmen put his left hand across Yerik’s shoulder, creating a barrier between him and the stranger, who immediately stepped back. Lohmen hardly gave off an imposing demeanour, but his presence seemed to tame the situation.

“Now, gentlemen, there’s no need for a fight,” Lohmen said, attempting to quell the situation before the big man could win any ensuing altercation.

The man looked at the hand and then at Lohmen.

“I’m sorry, brother, let the red runneth over you.” The stranger tipped his helm and let the two men pass. The apprentice and Lohmen glanced at each other in mild confusion before continuing to the door.

Outside, they shook hands and confirmed their meeting in Ponshmun in nine days. They’d meet at middleday, at the Bard & Bass. Lohmen looked to the setting sun and figured he’d be able to get halfway to the next town before moonrise.

The town’s message board called for a quick detour from his route just down the thoroughfare.

No longer looking for work, the weathered papers still held a faint chance of clues, but not this night. Having read everything, he returned to the bookbinders, where a gaunt old man sat in the dirt outside the closed-up shop.

“You alright, ser?” Lohmen asked him.

“Um-hum. A bit hungry, but no worse for wear.” Was his reply, smiling. Lohmen reached into his pouch, tossed the man double the meal cost, and pointed to the Heavy Head.

“Boarchops. They’re quite good.”

“Thank you, Stranger.” The man said with graciousness and esteem.

Lohmen readied his horse and prepared to ride east to the second Banner.

It would be just after dark when he made Kilgial, so he’d spend the night at the Inn and paint their Banner at first light.

The unfamiliar, unnamed horse trotted toward the town’s entrance with a gentle tap of the heels. Though his current mount was impressive, Lohmen thought longingly about Tolo, despite her comparative shortcomings. As the pair clopped along, the afternoon sun at their back, Lohmen couldn’t help but remember the day he got Tolo. He was lost in fond memories when a branch whipped across his cheek and snapped him back to the present. He’d have passed right under it on Tolo.

***

His path followed the southern coast through the rugged lowland realm of Lukos, before starting upland toward Zelzel-Mog and Likali. Those two realms bordered at Saltroar Point, a hazard-laden stretch of water that had claimed even skilled maritimers who sailed too close. The account had come from a chatty barman at the Long Shot tavern in bek-Rim. The town of bek-Rim was set inland, and looked like a quaint little fishing hamlet, though they flew three weapons on their Banner.

Lohmen recorded the house of Trident Catapult Morning Star on a green field with black trim into his tome. As the barman told it, large timbers from the surrounding forests were worked and formed to make the namesake war machines sought by armies from all over the continent. A quaint little fishing town with a booming industry of destruction nestled within. The sage snapper Lohmen ordered didn’t last as long as the oral history from the barman, but Lohmen found the story captivating. With a full belly and a new tale to think about on his travels, Lohmen mounted and set off to illuminate.