“Ah, but, um, consider this, Captain Ylawes. I grant you that might be wise, but I’m a [Merchant]. And I notice that the port-city of Goisedall—former port-city—isn’t raising the alarm over these things. You have to follow trends, and if the people are fine with this stuff, so are we.”
“Silver Swords? Silver-rank team? I’m [Patrol Leader] Dulc. You’ve come to Goisedall. I don’t need to see papers. We’ve had thousands of you lot passing through. They just sent me out to check what that spell was. Also, if you’re staying in the city, we have fees for that many wagons entering.”
Thus, Goisedall. The last city before the New Lands of Izril. Ylawes spent a bit more time with the Drake, enough for Falene to interject with surprising tact.
Falene energetically talked up the beverage that Ylawes had decided he didn’t need in his life. It was a rare quarrel with Falene; she had made it her life’s duty to addict every single person she encountered. It seems coffee had its appeal in Goisedall.
“Looks like Goisedall, this city, has been hit by hard times. I don’t think it’s a concern; we’re not staying more than a few hours, Merchant Yorrned says. But watch the caravans.”
It was as if a wall of dirt had suddenly risen a good fifteen feet above the sand and gravel of the seabed the caravan had been descending into past Goisedall. It was probably equivalent to other parts of Izril, which were higher above sea level, but the change was—dramatic.
“—I suppose, at this point, turning around to Goisedall would be the most sensible choice. But I have not received a commitment from any of the other [Merchants]. I have pressed them on the matter. Politely.”
“No member of the Consortium of Enterprise wishes to go back, Captain. We’re already weeks into the New Lands—turning back now would void the effort it has taken to get this far. Not to mention, restocking our supplies in Goisedall? In the winter? It would cost a fortune.”
“Pardon me, Merchant Tivete, but I can see why I wasn’t informed of the plans. I am an adventurer; that may sound like my team and I are used to challenges, but we tend to know what we’re doing. Acceptable risks are fine. No one can predict a battle, but we minimize danger when we can. If we returned to Goisedall, there would be no uncertainty factor.”
“Magical. Here is the difference, Captain Ylawes. An artifact will generally not fail unless truly broken. My amulet will be dead before we return to Goisedall, even if we turn around. Yours will simply be less powerful or retain its magic. Modern enchanting has no safeguards, among other flaws that normally don’t manifest themselves. But everyone else’s magical items, from Rings of Warmth to wands to…bags of holding?”
“If we return, the Consortium cannot finance replacing all those magical items, Captain Ylawes. We have already lost unprecedented funds, especially my caravan. No, we continue. If we go to Goisedall, the expedition will never return.”
“Whatever’s draining my magic? Or Nailren is just closer to the Mage’s Guild in Goisedall than us. Either way—I’m not sending more [Messages] than this. It seems like I’ll have to go through Lady Ruveden the same way.”
Two days got everyone to the river, and they could tighten their belts and rely on that. Animals had to drink water; they’d use the river to go as far east as they could. If they got closer to Goisedall, could Falene [Message] them for supplies?
