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Chapter 12 - The Evergloom Post

16th Day of Abyss

118 I.E.

Time passed quickly as Bart's training came to a close. Hilfa offered him constant advice and helped him to improve his performance to at least the bare minimum of standards that were expected of every soldier, such as how wilderness survival and the use of various weapons. Bart soon evolved from a passable scout into a capable marksman and combatant. He was hardly the best but he showed up many of the other trainees.

In the months following the end of the war games, there were signs that he'd soon be deployed for duty. Though he was glad to get away from the Crucible, he wasn't looking forward to being stuck out on the front lines to guard the southern borders from gnoll incursions. Hilfa assured him that everything would be okay, but he still had his doubts. It felt like all anyone wanted to do was get rid of him.

He wasn't sure if it was dumb luck or just Thora trying to twist a dagger in his side just one last time. She reported that his attitude towards authority and his violent tendencies were not suitable for protecting vital locations along the borders. Bart was then assigned to what Olaraa considered its frontier: working in and around the Evergloom province, a heavily forested area that had few settlements, as the dwarves were still expanding into the territories they had been allotted thanks to their participation in defeating the Orcish Empire centuries ago. Primarily, Bart was to be operating out of an outpost that guarded the only road through the Evergloom Woods.

Bart cursed at her as he was shipped off with several other, less promising trainees. No one wanted to go to Evergloom. The massive forest was cursed, and reportedly had been since before the founding of the republic. It was said that the forest had become coterminous with the Plane of Night, the home of Sethyr, the Shadowalker. There was no light that could penetrate the darkness, save for one exception, and even the naturally enhanced sense of sight that some races possessed failed to aid them. The sun never made it through the veil that hung above the boughs of the trees.

Evergloom had become the home of goblinoids and other terrors that could operate in the dark. Being that the swiftest and easiest to traverse route to the northern reaches of the continent cut through the woods, it was in Olaraa's best interest to protect it. Losing the trade roads would severely impact trade income for the country due to the long winding roads that would be required to evade the forest. Longer trips meant more overhead for supplies and escorts and it severely hampered profits.

Bart found that he thrived in the forest. His sense of smell and hearing had been amplified through years of practice, and they allowed him to sense prey easily. His natural paranoia also make him intensely alert in the dark, making it hard for anything to sneak up on him. These qualities, combined with his ferocity, allowed him to operate outside of the outpost with ease and into places few were willing to go.

"That was a good shot back there," a dwarf named Rejian said as he and Bart returned to the outpost. "Usually most of the trainees from Hell's Crucible are broken shells by the time they leave, and are about as useful as one, too."

Bart grunted, not offering a word of response. Rejian was a Lightweaver, and that meant that he never had to go through even a fraction of the training that anyone else did. The dwarf was gifted by the Gods, and that meant he was favored by the people of Olaraa. The Lightweavers had saved them from the plague that had spread like wildfire across the republic around the time Bart was born, and that seemed to be reason enough that these paladins would live the good life, free of toil or hardships.

Bart hated every last one of them. It was bad enough that he couldn't use magic, but to know that there was an even more privileged group of people above the magic-users was more insulting. The magic-less population of Olaraa was looked down upon, as if they were crippled or mentally deficient. Bart wondered if there was any other labels he'd earned that would grant him scorn from the vast majority of the populace.

The darkness around the pair of them was oppressive, save for a ring of light that was warded off by Rejian's magically summoned light. That was the nature of the Evergloom Forest. It was perpetually cast in a night so heavy that no light could penetrate it, save for those few gifted followers of the goddess Lumine, the Lightweaver. Her gifts were anathema to Sethyr's Curse, and the shadows recoiled away from the light, choosing instead to lurk on the periphery of the light's glow like a feral beast waiting to strike. Though Bart could rely well enough on his other senses to track his prey, he was comforted by the warm, bright light that accompanied them. It was the only good thing that Rejian brought to the squad.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt for you to talk once in a while," Rejian said coldly.

"When I want someone paying me lip service, I'll visit a whore house," Bart shot back, glowering. The light from Rejian's orb cast a deep shadow over the ursar's brow, making his frown all the more terrifying.

"Like you need whores when Hilfa is at your beck and call...." the dwarf muttered in response.

"Don't piss me off, paladin," Bart said with a snarl. "Speak of Hilfa like that again and I'll tear you to shreds after I've used you up."

Rejian responded by making an unimpressed sounding huff, but beneath that, Bart could sense his fear. The paladin's training taught him how to remain fearless on the outside, but it didn't help where it mattered. Bart licked his lips. At least there was one thing about his strange ability to feel emotions that was worthwhile.

They emerged from the forest onto a well worn pathway at the edge of a large clearing. It was the only known location in the entire forest where light was able to penetrate the magical gloom of the woods. It was also where the dwarves had opted to set up their outpost to guard the main highway to the north. As they stepped into the clearing, Bart shivered as the warm sun touched his fur. The perpetual night made it intensely cold in the dark, and every time he returned to base, his skin would tingle from the heat.

The fort wasn't anything extravagant. It had a defensive wall erected around it that had been cut from thick oak trees. Only a single entrance existed to allow soldiers to move in and out, and it was marked by a glowing pair of orange alchemical globes. A barracks could be seen poking up over the top, where the soldiers lived, ate, and slept. It had a small hut attached to it where the quartermaster worked to dole out equipment and supplies to the soldiers. The scent of cooking onions, meat and freshly cut greens wafted towards them, and Bart's stomach rumbled in response. It had taken a few hours to track down the bugbear that had raided a caravan passing through earlier in the day, and he missed his opportunity to have breakfast that morning because of it.

Across from the outpost was another building, just outside the fortified walls. It was the postal office, which also housed a small sundries store. The story surrounding its construction went that as the dwarves established themselves in the Evergloom province, a need arose for soldiers in the forest to be able to mail relatives and hear back from them. An enterprising dwarf set up shop outside the fort and aided in relaying messages to other postal outlets in major cities.

Over time, the post office came to be a center of commerce for the soldiers seeking to spend their hard earned money and for the travelers that were moving through the area. An inn and a tavern had been built next to the shop, and traffic through the region increased as a result of the accommodations. The decrease in isolation made it easier for the dwarven soldiers stationed at the outpost to endure, and it boosted morale. The nights were often full of noise as the raucous laughter and occasional fights echoed throughout the clearing.

Bart and Rejian split up after they reached the fort. Rejian wanted to go to the tavern with the rest of the squad and to get away from the ursar, while Bart merely wanted to find some time alone and to have a good meal. He never liked being at the bar when the rest of the soldiers were there. There was something about drinking with people he knew that he didn't like. He much preferred when travelers came through the area, as there were usually a few good looking women (and, to Bart's admittance, men as well) coming through the area.

Bart returned his equipment to the quartermaster so that she could log and maintain it. He then moved through the barracks to lie down. There was no one in the bunks when he arrived. The room was tiny and cramped for the ursar, but the people in charge had managed to shove a larger bed in one corner to accommodate him. He dropped onto his cot to relax. He was somewhat glad Hilfa wasn't around at that moment, since she was always persistent about forcing him to try getting along with the other soldiers.

Making doubly sure that no one was around, he reached under his bed and fetched a flask that was tucked up inside the mattress. He brought the cool, smooth metal container up and unscrewed the cap. The strong scent of alcohol wafted up from inside.

Pleased that the flask was still in its hiding spot and that it was still mostly full, he began to take a long draught from it. The booze warmed him from the inside out and he sat back with a sigh.

He was halfway through his drink when his commanding officer surprised him with a visit. The door swung open without warning. Bart didn't even bother to try hiding his drink.

"What?" the ursar barked.

"Is that how you should be speaking to a superior?" The dwarf asked, scolding him.

"I don't care. What do you want?" Bart said, glaring at the dwarf.

The CO looked at the flask in his hand. "What is that? You know you're not supposed to be drinking!"

Bart mimicked his words in a childish voice, then chugged the rest of it. "I'm not drinking it. I drank it." He turned the flask upside down to show that it was empty. "See?" Bart smirked as he watched the dwarf stand in the doorway. He was all talk, and though he had the power to discipline him, he chose not to.

His CO shook his head. "You know what? I don't have time for this crap." He pulled a slip of paper out from a pocket in his tunic. "This letter arrived for you in the mail this morning. I'm sure you won't recognize the wax seal, but it's from the Highlord himself."

Bart snatched the letter away. "The seal's already broken anyways. How would I be able to tell what it looks like?" he asked as he glared at his CO.

The dwarf shrugged. "You're a convict, what did you expect? Your mail gets checked any time it comes through here. The last thing we need is one for your thuggish friends in the capital mailing you some narcotics or something. You might as well give it a read. I already did."

Grumbling, Bart unfolded the parchment.

Bartholomew Stoutmantle;

By order of the Highlord, Gantors Glowinglight, veteran and hero of the Gnoll War, you are hereby recalled back to Olaraa to meet with his Lordship to discuss a matter of personal importance. You will report to HQ and notify them of your arrival, at which point you will be escorted to the Lightweaver's Citadel to have an audience with his Lordship shortly afterwards. Your attendance is mandatory.

Signed,

Highlord Gantors Glowinglight

"Gods damn it," Bart sighed. He knew that he had no say in the matter. The Highlord was a powerful dwarf. He could probably order his execution if he wanted do. "I was just getting comfortable here, too."

"Too bad," his CO said. "Pack your things. The caravan arrives tomorrow morning from Albrand. You'll be leaving as soon as it finishes unloading our supplies."

The dwarf left him be and Bart fell back on the bed with a huff. Though he wasn't all that fond of Evergloom, it was relatively quiet and free of too much work. Having to return to the capital would likely mean he'd have lots to do, with less free time for himself and likely restrictions on his movements. He gripped the flask tight in his paws until his fingers hurt. He got up, deciding that perhaps he'd get a refill at the tavern, but he dropped back to the ground when the room started to spin.

Oof, guess that stuff kicked in faster than I thought.

Hilfa came to see him some time later as he tried a second time to get up. He swayed from side to side as he moved, and nearly fell on top of her.

"Are you drunk again?" Hilfa asked. She sounded concerned, but her frown suggested that she was angry with him.

"Oh hey beautiful," Bart slurred. "I was just getting a refill." His speech was interspersed with hiccups. He let out a foul smelling belch then laughed. "That was a good one!"

Hilfa held her nose closed. "I disagree, but who am I to judge?" She sighed and said, "What's got you hitting the bottle anyways?"

"T-that Rejian! *hic* He said you was a whore... and that pissed me off." Bart got intensely paranoid for a moment and then leaned forward as if he were holding on to Galria's most vital secrets. "Psst, can I ask you something, Hilfa?" He rose up and giggled. "Heh, Hilfa... the name rolls offa my tongue."

"What did you want to ask?" She said exasperated, trying to move the conversation along.

"Oh yeah!" Bart exclaimed then got quiet again. "I think Rejian likes me! Do Lightweavers have anything against man love? Cause I think I'd like to take him back into the woods an-"

"Alright!!" Hilfa shouted and pushed (or tried to push) Bart away. She began to talk loudly as the ursar continued. "This conversation is not happening! I didn't hear a thing! Oh ew! Ew!" She smacked Bart across the muzzle. "Knock it off, Bartholomew!"

Bart's grin faded as fast as his enthusiasm. His ears drooped and he rubbed his cheek. "I-I'm sorry Hilfa, I just-"

"Look, you need to sober up." Hilfa guided him back to his bed. "I'm not letting you out of here until you do."

She did her best to ease him onto the bed and stood over him with her hands on her hips. Bart looked at her and felt upset with himself. Was it the booze talking? Or more of the same emotional garbage he'd been dealing with?

"You need to keep those thoughts to yourself okay? And for Lumine's sake, Rejian is a fellow soldier!"

"I just thought... you know... I mean I haven't in a while and..."

"You're drunk. Just rest and you'll feel differently okay?" Hilfa patted his arm. "I'm going to help with dinner. Ill come get you then okay?"

Bart nodded his head and after she left, he rolled over on his side and faced the wall. How did Hilfa always manage to do that, he wondered. If anyone else talked to him like that, he'd have knocked them out. Or thought heavily about it. A sigh wracked his body and he closed his eyes, passing quickly into a dreamless sleep.