With most of my loose ends tied up and a new goal in mind – it was time for us to call our ‘holiday’ closed and get on with the task at hand. I’d never seen Cali so ecstatic before. Obviously, I couldn’t tell from her expression; but she was very eager to get out of town and back onto the road. The trip was short and safe compared to some of our other ventures, so Ryan was kind enough to hold onto some of the heavy things we had collected and didn’t have need of.

As a rogue, leaving your belongings with a stranger was one of the worst sins you could commit. But Ryan wasn’t a rogue, and he knew that I’d be seriously pissed if he pawned off some of our stuff. They were shoved into one of his empty rooms and locked up tight for us to retrieve later. I grabbed the Versian sword I had taken from the tomb and brought it with us. It was my key to getting close to the target.

In any other circumstance I would have elected to use it instead. The sword was very good from what I could discern – but Stigma was so incredibly overpowered that nothing could even get close. If this were an RPG, I’d be wondering what the hell the developers were thinking. The sword wouldn’t be used by him either. If his exhibits survived our encounter, it’d be put up on display as an object of interest.

The route was a straight path with little between it and the city. There were a few sparsely populated villages and agricultural areas that made heavy use of the fertile soil here. It wasn’t quite the breadbasket of the Federation like you’d find further down south, but the lower transport costs of moving it from closer to the Eastern cities meant that it was easy to make a living doing it. In a hypothetical future where things became more industrialised, bulk transport from the south by rail or canal would mean that this land wouldn’t be used for farming anymore.

That was a long way off. Magic had long been used as a substitute for many industrial processes, and there wasn’t much appetite for advancing things further when what they had did the job just fine. If I became immortal thanks to Stigma – would I see that future with my own eyes? Cali and Tahar wouldn’t be with me though. As far as I knew neither had a lengthened lifespan. It’d be a long, boring wait just to indulge my little curiosity.

Cali spoke, “Have you ever visited Bristwaithe before?”

I snapped back to reality, “Uh. Not really. I stopped by a few times on jobs, but I never stayed for any longer than a few hours.”

I really didn’t know much about it other than what I had heard from my fellow thieves. That meant I didn’t have any real contacts, I hadn’t worked with anyone from there, and I certainly didn’t have any escape routes planned in case I got caught doing something naughty. I’d need to dedicate some time to making backup plans before we jumped into following the Absolver’s tipoff. Better safe than sorry.

Not that I expected much in the way of resistance. The guards around these parts were used to taking on the easy stuff and letting everything else pass. The only reason I still bothered with the process of checking my list was because it would be annoying to have a bounty on my head. I liked living in the Federation mostly unmolested, and murdering a bunch of people who weren’t bandits or enemy soldiers would put a stop to that very quickly.

Cali would probably figure that this wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world soon enough. I hoped the change of scenery would tide her over for a few days, and I could hurry up with the job without having to worry about it. Even worse than that was the fact I was essentially working for free. If the chance presented itself I was going to rob this guy for every penny he had to make up for it. He probably earned his cash through exploiting the less fortunate anyway, it’d be safer in my hands.

“This grass offers poor protection from predators,” Tahar commented, eyeing the large, open fields that surrounded us on both sides.

“Inhabited areas like this don’t have many of those wandering around. The worst you’ll see is the occasional wolf or bear attack. I assume you have a method for where you locate your settlements back home?”

Tahar nodded; “The village has been there for decades, but it was chosen because it was close to clean drinking water and gave an elevated position above the plains. When a serious attack happens, those who are unable to fight are sent to hide in the tall grass. It is very important that we are kept safe. Even three or four deaths can cause problems.”

From my estimation, Tahar’s village had two to three hundred people living in it. Presuming that they had a similar ratio of adults to elders and children as the rest of the world, that meant that they had to be careful about preserving themselves. As she said – a few deaths of fertile residents could cause long term population issues.

“You mentioned that there were other tribes on Versia as well?”

“Yes. Many great tribes, some larger than ours. In the spirit of survival, they often trade members between each other. In adulthood a hunter is permitted to leave their home tribe to find a mate, or they may choose to stay with their own if they already have one. My mother travelled from the North and stumbled on our home. Her original tribe were great warriors who lived in the most dangerous lands.”

“People on Sull don’t have to worry about defending themselves for the most part - not to mention that feeding a huge number of people demands more than hunting animals and foraging.” I pointed out to one of the wheat fields on our left, “When things grow, they get hungry for more and more. Only people with the skill and the money can provide that much food.”

“Does it not… disturb you?”

I sighed, “A bit. I know where all of this is headed. It’s not the farms, or the way that people put their lives in the hands of others, it’s the way that those systems are abused by bad people. Greed is always going to trump caution. Even if I did tell some of these folks what’s going to happen if they go ahead, they wouldn’t listen to me.”

A few months ago, that would have never occurred to me. But remembering that I was now technically immortal had changed my perspective. I couldn’t pass it off and imagine that I’d be dead before anything like global warming became a problem. Even smaller scale disasters could cause an untold amount of suffering. Famine, war, disease. All I could do was spout words that sounded good in my head. I wasn’t a doctor, a diplomat or a millionaire.

The only thing I was good for was killing and stealing, and outside of wartime that wasn’t the type of action that inspired the masses. Even as an incredibly powerful individual, how could I ever hope to collapse the likes of a socio-economic system using my own two hands? There simply wasn’t enough time in the day to track down every guilty party and kill them. Someone new would pop up to take their places in due time anyway. I knew that the Inquisition feared Stigma for that reason. To me it sounded like an utterly improbable turn of events.

Tens of thousands of people belonged to the Holy Order of Saint Jarvis. The actual Inquisitors took up a smaller proportion of that number. It was odd that such a religious organisation could cultivate so much influence in a world where there was no dominant religion. The Branch church had gotten close but ultimately fell to pieces, leaving the order behind as one of their few vestiges. There were true believers amongst them. You could find them almost anywhere if you looked hard enough. But the Inquisition had long since presented itself as a neutral, concerned party in matters like religion and politics.

Their only ‘goal’ was to destroy corruption – whatever that meant. It was good business. Governments, nobles and militaries valued their contributions. A kickback in the form of cash wasn’t unusual. In truth they could continue to operate without any income for decades to come. All of the Church’s reserves had ended up in their possession after they dissolved. It was the shambling corpse of something that once held a divine purpose. Nobody within the Inquisition was kind enough to put it out of its misery, not while the pay and benefits were still good.

Bristwaithe could be seen through the morning fog. It rested in the basin of a large, hill-covered valley. Much like Tahar’s own village, there were few places you couldn’t see from the outskirts of the town. Still, even as a smaller settlement than the likes of Blackwake, there was still an immense sprawl of buildings and streets splotching the otherwise pretty landscape. A veritable urban jungle that would normally take months to learn the layout of. I didn’t have months. The heat was being cranked up by John and his friends. Both I and the Absolver wanted to get this thing over with while I still had the ability to do so.

Bristwaithe did have one operable difference I had to keep in mind. The urban areas were much less dense than I was used to. A smaller population that was wealthier meant that the usual combination of slums and ramshackle houses were nowhere to be seen. Slipping away from a chase would be significantly harder without a confusing street layout to obscure my movements.

“What are we going to do first, Ren?” Cali asked.

To be honest; I didn’t really have any idea. I knew the name of the guy we were looking for, and I had something that I believed he would like to buy off of me. Aside from that, everything would have to be my own work. I didn’t know any contacts, and there weren’t rogue taverns everywhere like you’d find further north. For the first time in a long time I’d need to pretend to be a productive member of society to get some information.

“We need to find out where our mark is. Derian Rivers must be a name that people recognise around here. Hopefully we can loosen some tongues using that trademark charm of yours, Cali.”

“Do you mean to imply that my nobility by birth will elicit trust? I highly doubt that anyone here will know my name.”

“They did back North.”

“A few hours walk may as well be a different world to these people,” Cali snarked, “They’re already gawking at me. Never seen an Ashmorn in the flesh before.” It was a cavalcade of slack jawed shock. Almost every person we passed by while walking down the main road was staring at her without considering how she felt about it. In a world where people started fights over this type of thing - it was extremely bizarre to witness. If and when they managed to make their neck muscles work again, Tahar became the next object of their voyeurism.

“Hopefully it’s just the Halberd…”

“They are looking in the wrong direction if that is the case.”

“Are you feeling self-conscious all of a sudden?”

“No. I merely wished to air my scorn against them for their ignorance.”

Well; that was an emotion of some kind, I suppose. Perhaps it was healthier for Cali to let out her frustrations verbally and emotionally than through bouts of danger-lust. It wasn’t good if we wanted to keep a low profile though. These less diverse regions were always filled with people who were too high on their own supply. These people were all about manners until something a little different to the norm came along. Cali found profound, malicious amusement in staring back at some of them. They all froze up like statues, or turned down to the ground like scolded children.

“I guess we should start by finding somewhere to valuate this sword of mine. That’ll get the word out that I’m looking to sell. Hopefully it’s as valuable as I imagine it to be.”

“Selling a dead man’s possessions again,” Cali murmured.

“He wasn’t using it. Hell; if someone robbed me after I died; I wouldn’t complain about it. Better with them than a pile of rotting flesh.”

Cali was impassive, “You really have a certain way with words, Ren.”

In a good way, I hoped.