Chapter 35 - Glorious Purpose

“Please make sure he’s watered and fed, I’ve driven Lightstrider hard this last week during our travels.”
Prince Frederick held out a piece of gold and several silver to Alban. He knew it was more than the services were worth, but if he couldn’t be overly generous with his family’s wealth, then what was even the point of it?
After the man thanked him profusely, Frederick turned and looked into the town resting at the bottom of Mount Auger. It was quaint, but he could see the shine hiding beneath the surface. People willing to work hard… to dig and supply the kingdom with the gold it needed to fund its glorious purpose… they were the ones who made it all possible, and Frederick could appreciate that.
When he snuffed out the Lord of Dusk, he’d make sure each person was rewarded for their sacrifice, no matter how long it took.
There was something… off, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it… not at first.
Several homes had their doors boarded over and though it was the middle of the workday, there were more than a few able-bodied men sitting listlessly in front of their homes. Frederick’s face tightened, and his hand fell to the hilt of Dawnforger. Whatever was happening here, he couldn’t simply pass it by.
“You there, what is your trade, sir?” he asked, walking over and studying the man who… well, looked like he could use a bath.
“My trade? What in Dawn’s name do you care about— my prince! My apologies!” The man hadn’t been paying attention, his hand holding onto a mug with a dark liquid swirling in the bottom. “I’m a miner, my prince. Or, I was. There was another accident and several of the caverns have been closed so there’s little work.”
Frederick frowned, looking from the man over to Mount Auger. He’d heard rumors of accidents recently. There were even restrictions on combustible reagents and spark-producing tools now, as far as he was aware. The fact that there were still accidents happening spoke to a continued lack of proper precautions that was, frankly speaking, unacceptable.
“How many caverns have closed, sir? And are the Company Foremen doing anything to return you all to work?” Frederick asked without looking back.
“Uh… five, my prince. And with several of the workers moving to Danwood to join the Lumber Consortium and provide their labor out there, the Foremen are considering expanding the primary cavern and moving all of the remaining workers there to work in shifts.”
“Hmm, that has some flaws… perhaps I can take some time to speak with the Foremen to ensure proper management. I can’t imagine you or any of the workers favor the idea of losing shifts or the output the caverns would provide,” Frederick said, looking back at the man with a smile. “Provided safety concerns are being met, of course. The gold you men extract is key to the crown’s efforts protecting our land.”
“That… that would be much appreciated, thank you!” The man scrambled to his feet, though bowed his head repeatedly. “The closures… I don’t mean to bother you with my problems, my prince, but work is scarce and honest coin grows scarcer by the day.”
Frederick frowned at that, then reached down into his satchel. He extracted a few gold coins, then held them out to the man who started to shake his head.
“I… I couldn’t!”
“Please, it is the very least I can do,” Frederick insisted, taking the man’s hand and placing the coins into it before he could resist. “I’ll do what I can to put this right, sir. Don’t you worry.”
Before the man could respond, Frederick patted him on the shoulder, then turned and started forward once more. Gold’s Lodge had always had its problems… but this… something strange was afoot, and Frederick was going to find out what.
He talked with several more of the men, greeted the few women coming from the market with rather meagerly filled baskets, and offered more than a few coins for their troubles. After that, he found his way to the largest inn in town. Bartenders were often one of the best sources of information. It was a truth any good adventurer knew.
Hill’s Oasis was quieter than any good tavern had the right to be. This was yet another thing that bothered Frederick. He approached the bar and placed a few gold coins on the surface before flagging the lone bartender down.
“A pint of your ale and a moment of your time, sir.”
Quincy looked around at the empty bar, then back at the prince curiously. He seemed to examine Frederick for a moment before nodding.
“That’s worth more than just a pint of my ale, Prince Frederick. And it’s slow, you don’t have to pay me for my time.”
“Then consider whatever I don’t use as payment for ale for your customers today,” Frederick waved it off. “Though, I must say, I would have imagined a place like this busier with supper approaching.”
“Aye… hard to sell ale to men who aren’t being paid, and harder still to sell it to men who’ve already left for Danwood.”
“Ah yes… the lumber town. It has seen quite the renaissance in recent months from the reports I’ve reviewed.” Frederick took a seat, the scabbard of his sword tapping against the wood of the stool as he rested his hands atop the bar.
Quincy brought him a pint of ale and set it down. He stepped back, watching Frederick cautiously as the prince picked up the cup, studied the ale for a moment, then took a sip.
“Hmm, slightly bitter. Was that intended?”
The bartender seemed to light up and nodded.
“It was, my prince. I think a good ale should have a bite to it. I’ve considered making some new aging casks using Great Oak timber, but budgets are tight everywhere unfortunately.”
“New casks are always a risk. You lose the flavor the old wood has gathered with age, all for an unknown outcome. That said, I can admire either choice. A good craftsman knows when risk is warranted,” Frederick said with a smile, taking another sip. “What can you tell me about Danwood? A town like that doesn’t just grow without something feeding its roots.”
“It’s rather inspiring, isn’t it? A few scrappy upstarts heading out to make a place of their own? If the Steward’s sister wasn’t opening up an inn of her own, I’d consider setting up shop. Though, they will need to stock the place with ale if they aren’t going to make their own, which could be good for business.”
“Just grit and determination then? The records I’ve reviewed suggest they were behind on their taxes… did they receive a new benefactor by chance?” Frederick pressed, finishing his mug and setting it forward. Quincy picked it up without having to be asked before he refilled and brought it back, taking a moment to think about the question.
“Oh, you must be talking about Corbin. He moved out that way a few months back, bought up a bunch of land and really put a bug in their trousers. I talked with him a few times… rather serious about his ale, but a bit of an odd duck in general. Not quite sure why an Alchemist would decide to farm and brew, but to each their own, I suppose. I doubt he’ll be making anything that’s better than mine anytime soon, regardless of what he thinks.”
An… Alchemist? The name was right. He’d already read the reports from Lord Drake’s son, and the deep, primal certainty radiating from his Royal Trait told Frederick he was heading in the right direction. But why would the Stranger be an Alchemist? Maybe there was some sort of barrier surrounding the relics that only a powerful reagent, guided by a skilled Alchemist, could break… Yes. That was sure to be the reason.
“What kind of man would you say this Corbin is?” Frederick pressed, and Quincy looked slightly confused.
“Uh… not to offend, my prince, but why do you ask?”
“My apologies, sir. I’m afraid I haven’t been upfront with you… I’m actually on my way to Danwood to speak with him. I believe he may be the missing member of my party, and I’m eager to get underway. The longer we wait, the greater Dusk grows.”
Quincy hesitated before an awkward laugh escaped him.
“Beg your pardon, my prince, but I think you may be mistaken. I can’t imagine that man mustering up the effort for anything other than that farm of his. Honestly, I’ve assumed he’s been busy with that. He hasn’t visited Gold’s Lodge in a few weeks now.”
“That is the problem, sir… he seems to believe that he can turn his back on the Tale. He doesn’t yet understand the danger that decision has put us in and I must show him the errors of his decision,” Frederick explained, taking another sip from his mug. “I just hadn’t realized his refusal had stretched so far as to disrupt one of the crown’s key sources of gold.”
Quincy couldn’t help but laugh again.
“My prince, I know you’re burdened by the prophecy, but Gold’s Lodge isn’t having troubles just because of one man starting a farm. The Auger Mining Company has been cutting corners for years now and they’ve been ignoring the complaints of the workers themselves. This is just the accumulation of that.”
“Perhaps. I intend to take a good look into that while I’m here, and I do promise to address the concerns I’ve heard from the workers this afternoon,” Frederick acknowledged with a nod. “But perhaps not. The Lord of Dusk is out there… waiting to make his move. The longer I allow my companions to stay separated from me, the more I risk losing them to the darkness. It’s entirely possible the Lord orchestrated Danwood’s rise simply to convince my companion that abandoning the prophecy was the right choice.”
Frederick finished off his mug, then set it down and stood back up.
“Thank you, sir, for the candor and the drink. I fear my slowness has allowed darkness to affect your town, but I will fix this and Dawn will still rise. This I promise you.”