Chapter 663: "Hello Traveler" (2/2)
”A new dungeon?”
”Yeah, it's increased traffic from the neighboring lands,” said the rider, ”-since the place is hidden inside the walls, the sense of security is much more pleasant.”
”What about the royal capital?” inquired Igna.
”No idea,” shrugged they, ”-the place's gone silent. Even the church has stopped their useless attempts at conversion.”
”Don't let the optimism veer thy head, Viscount of Glenda,” added the mother, ”-true be it the town's done a lot for the survivors, truthfully, a single town can't possibly help an entire province. The other nobles are on edge ever since newer construction. The newspaper, the propaganda's lesser implicit in that issue. Nobles boycotting the food situation is the tip of the iceberg, the province isn't going to last another year. The economy's going to take far longer to heal; the lizardmen, main farmers at the swamp, have perished, income is cut.”
”Do pardon my surprise, you're well versed in the matters of state.”
”I was once part of the queen's entourage,” her face and profile didn't spark a memory. ”No matter, I'm surprised a noble would bother to travel alongside commoners.”
The wall of Arda stood prominently, a line of carriages and hand-drawn carts waited. Military outposts of the Blood-King's affiliation were stern in checking the supplies.
”It'll take a few minutes, why not take a walk around the village,” suggested the rider, ”-I'll rejoin once my cargo has been inspected.”
”Come along,” hailed the bossy granny.
”Me too?” pointed Igna to himself.
”Yeah, come on,” she smiled. The grandson and mother were also very inviting. Pleased by the encounter, they ambled to a tall and beefy arch. ”-mom, how long did it take to build this?”
”They say it happened in an instant.”
”Took around a year's time to construct,” said Igna.
”How would you know?” inquired the still vibrant granny.
”The prince and I built it.”
”Two men…” they paused, ”-seriously?”
”Forget I mentioned it,” a checkpoint for people had sterner-looking guards. A sure impressive crowd of constant chatter drowned the acquaintances' conversation, Vanesa climbed from the piggyback to his shoulders. '-Don't tell me they've begun to build a village…'
”Checkpoint,” the line shuffled, the fellow passengers easily made it across, ”-Can I have identification?” inquired the guardsman deep onto his record book.
”Will this do?” a noble crest rested on the counter.
”Let me see,” he nonchalantly grabbed, ”-let's see,” it pulled onto his book, ”…” the pen fell, ”-Master Igna?”
”Correct,” he smiled, ”-do I pass the checkpoint?”
”S-sir,” he stood sharply, the chair fell and made a scene, ”-I didn't expect you to be here, sire…”
”No need be flustered,” crest to his neck, ”-have a good day.” The other guards bowed; an influential figure was in the presence of commoners. The sentiment soon faded into life's daily ruckus. Shadows of the present arch gave to the feeble sunny another side. The place wasn't impressive nor was it to be disregarded either. The construction of buildings was handled by dwarves.
”Here,” hailed the grandson, ”-the tavern is over there,” a sharp left led into the merchant part of town. Shabby stalls veiled per a durable fabric was neatly fit the esthetic. Loud and confident merchants hailed the passersby. Many stopped but rare were those who bought, a recession limited the movement of money. Then again, what enabled the construction of cottage-style buildings, sure, the architecture and abundant forests and material dwindled the initial cost, what about men power. In then, curious gave to, ”-how are they able to build a village?”
”Pretty self-explanatory. The passage tax is used to pay workers. Materials are transferred easily and at a low cost by the links of the upper wall. Trees are cut towards the west and sent. I heard the faction has plans to open the wall's route to ease the travel from edge to edge. Sounds good on paper, I'm sure there are a lot of considerations to be taken.”
'Good answer,' thought Igna.
”We're here,” proclaimed the grandson. A one-story high cottage without much in the ways of visual pleasantness. The business was for better or worse, present. Lack of food rose the prices of already cooked meals. The trader's guild was hard at work with the importation of food from Oxshield. Then again, if money isn't circulating, the sustenance would but stay in a warehouse and rot.
”Pretty well-off to sit down and eat,” said Igna.
”Never said we were poor,” said granny in jest. My daughter here was scouted by officials in Glenda, she's to become a worker for your town.”
”You were scouted?” he took another look, ”-from what I've seen, the skill speaks volumes.”
”I thought the viscount would know his entourage,” a distasteful click of the tongue silenced the already tranquil table.
”I refute thy line of thought,” argued Igna, ”-I've entrusted the town to my stewardess, and in turn the people she's trusted and employed have scouted thee. Does the logic not lead to my actions.”
”I didn't mean my words in malice. Tis but bad memories from when Lucifer came into the capital, I had a gut feeling but was asked to remain quiet. The ways of the noble world, I wish it to be on merit and excellence. Ladies in wait begged, bribed and threatened me to not raise the concern to the queen for she had found love,” said she sarcastically.