One Moo'r Plow

Book 1: Chapter 17: Fickle fate.

To be fair, he was a big man. Human-wise, Pert -context implied this was his name- was a broad-shouldered, strapping hulk of a man. He had nearly a full head over the shorter Leon and weighed easily a hundred pounds more. The man didnt need to specify threats to intimidate people, his bulk did it for him.

And then there was me.

I was him, but better. The upgrade, in every way. I admit, I took no small amount of inward pleasure as his eyes visibly widened at the sight of me. There was something about frightening an obvious bully that I had never outgrown.

Please, I smiled softly. Continue with whatever you were saying. Dont let me interrupt.

The silence that stretched out was thick enough to run a knife through and spread on a loaf of bread. I could see, even smell the emotions that flickered behind his face. Shock, the rejection that this wasnt happening, acceptance that it was, and then thinking on how to salvage the situation.

Or maybe I was just overthinking it and the man was simply dumbfounded. Either way, I remained with a fresh jug of milk carried in one arm, and loomed over the human as he tried to formulate something to say.

It took a few coughs and false starts, but I believed in his ability to say something. Eventually.

And whore you?

We both knew the answer to that, but I humored him anyway.

The new supplier. I smiled broadly. Pleasure to meet you.

I believe theres been a mixup, He sputtered after a moment. I have a signed contract with these here folks to exclusively provide them with milk, and I believe you to be unlawfully intrudin upon that.

I nodded politely.

To whom is this *contract* beholden then, mister..?

I trailed off, expecting his name.

By the laws of Baron Ironmoor, of course. As per the law of exclusivity ratified by his excellence himself, you are trespassing upon my fair, Gods-given rights and interfering with my business. He said, gaining confidence with every word. Deliberate disruption of another mans legitimate business will not stand. I suggest you keep yourself in your lane or well see what the sheriff of these lands has to say.

He was attempting to salvage this by turning the subject to my transgressions and deflecting to me. Twas a good thing I was not inexperienced with such tactics.

It is fortunate for me then, I rumbled with a soft smile. That I do not give a single illegitimate fuck about the baron or his laws. All I see is bully trying to take advantage of a desperate family.

You would slander my honor and cast doubt on my good name? He all but puffed up. Ill have you taken before the baron for sla-

I am not casting doubt on your good name, ser. I interrupted the very image of patient politeness. I am denying its entire existence.

I pre-empted the redness that burst onto his features by clapping my free arm down on his shoulder and yanking him close to me. There wasnt a peep as I leaned forward and looked him dead in the eye.

Now, with your best interests and safety in heart, I suggest you fuck right off. Walk back to your cart, turn it around, and drive on home before anyone gets any harsh feelings over all this. I said that as nicely as possible, tone soft but stern. And if you have any untoward ideas about coming back to make trouble for these folks, I know where you live.

I didnt, but he lacked that knowledge.

Is that a threat? Ill have the law here before you can so much as blink! He sputtered angrily, trying to pull away. I tightened my grip on his shoulder and let him wriggle about for a bit before I answer.

Mister Pert, I smiled lightly and shook my head. I dont make threats. I hold no stock in childish boasts of violence. Myself, I believe a man should only make promises as to what he can back up.

With that, I steered him around my form and let him go. He stumbled away as I smiled and gave him a small wave.

Twas a pleasure meeting you. I nodded and pointedly kept quiet as he stumbled away, his face several shades of crimson.

Good man. I nodded at his back. I was starting to very much appreciate this new form and its incredible size. I didnt even need to imply violence, simply let others imaginations do all the work for me.

The young man stood in silence as I turned my attention to him.

Leon Gursenhein? I asked politely. More as a way to start the conversation than an actual inquiry. I am Garek. I believe young miss Flintfang delivered a gift from me several days ago.

Youre a whole lot bigger in person. He finally spoke. Pardon me, but I aint never seen a minotaur before.

And now you have. I smiled. I hate to be abrupt, but I simply stopped by to drop off another gift and introduce myself. Been holed up at my place for a while too long and neglecting my neighborly obligations.

I handed him the fresh jug of milk and swore I could see the beginnings of tears in the young mans eyes. He looked absolutely ragged, now that I was closer. Smelled of exhaustion and that unique scent that came with terminal sadness.

Its been a rough few months. His voice was cracked as he took the gift and blinked furiously. Arga already had a rough time carryin twins and then the gods saw fit to laugh at us again when they were born.

I nodded wisely, catching a glimpse of a smaller woman with demi-human features just inside the house, The young missus, then. Although from my awkward angle, I couldnt make out much of her.

Well, life aint fair, so it falls on good neighbors to help relieve the burden, I nodded. I give freely and without any strings attached. Would just feel mighty obliged if you could perhaps return those jugs once they're empty and we can see about getting you some more.

With that, I accepted his thanks, grinned at his remark on how well my hat fit, and was on my way again.

Someone left in a pleasant mood a few minutes ago. Ishila grinned, sprawled out in the cart. Think you might have gotten your goods tampered with or reins cut if I hadnt been here.

A very fine coincidence then, that I have you in my employ. I somberly chuckled. I had probably made an enemy, but I cared little for the friendship of such craven men. If he intended to make any trouble for me and mine, I would not extend him the courtesy I had this time.

The road to Hullbretch was slow and bumpy, filled with dust and wary riders. The guards seemed like they wanted to speak of something, and seemed reluctant to let me through. But in the end, they decided not to obstruct me further. My cart rolled into town, and with Ishila looking after the cart, I set off to find an alchemist or some such.

It took a while to prise directions from the townspeople, but I did eventually make my way to a rather large shop. I took note of the amount of green-clad men who lurked in most corners and alleyway, and could almost smell the tension. The Riders of the Verdant Dawn seemed wound-up, tensed like a wire ready to snap. Whatever was going on, I wanted little part of it and hurried about my business.

Walchs Royal Alchemy was the places name, and it did look rather fine, I noted upon stooping through the entrance. Neat racks of clearly labeled bottles were kept along the walls, while baskets of common herbs and ingredients were stocked down the center. A hub for all things alchemy, I was told. The marble walls were spotless, save for the occasional decoration.

It even stocked what I assumed were magical items. Staves, orbs, and other related objects were neatly kept behind glass display cases. A few items caught my eye, not out of necessity, but perhaps the promise of convenience. An innocuous wooden box promised to keep all materials inside at a warm temperature for as long as the lid was closed. Advertised with an average lifespan of several months, I could already imagine the warm meals this could hold for me all day.

It was large for a human, perhaps, but just right for me. And at not-quite-steep price. I didnt need it, per se, but it pleased me.

What did not please me was what the shopkeeper told me shortly after.

Come again? I asked mildly, my emotions kept tightly in check.

The short man shrugged and scratched at a burnt spot on his forehead.

Is simple, my good man. Youre a Tax Evader. Decreed by the Baron. Status says so, and status doesnt lie. Now, this here bein a fine establish in good standing with the baron, I cant buy your product. He scratched away nonchalantly Les of course you get that status removed by payin your fair share like the rest of us, you wont see a single grubbin sliver of coin from me.

Well, that complicated things. Still, no sense trying to force a man into doing business with me when he obviously didnt want to. I could just find someone else to buy my goods from. I wanted a long-term profit and buyer, not a one-off deal neither side liked. With a sigh, I plunked the basket onto the countertop.

Ill just buy this and be on my way, then.

Right gentlemanly of you, ser. The tanned man nodded. Thatll be seven gold coins.

The what? I almost bellowed. Thats double the price listed on the shelf!

Tight rein on those emotions, I told myself. No reason to lose it over some haggling. Wasnt haggling, it turned out.

Fraid thats what youll be paying. The man shrugged again, supremely unconcerned. Tax Evaders gotta pay double on any goods, barons orders. You have an issue with that, take it up with Lord Ironmoor.

I contemplated unwise things, but decency got the better grip on me. Without another word, I turned and strode from the shop.

I had not made it more than a dozen strides when a young lad waved me down.

Garek, ser. He spoke nervously. He knew me, but the reverse was not true. Ser Raffnyk has asked me to bring you to him. The matter is urgent.

My mood was already foul, but at least there was someone in this bloody town I liked decently enough. With a nod, I gestured the lad on and followed him through the streets. The roads were quiet now, eerily so. People wandered about their business, but the bustle and hubbub of it all was gone. We drew near a tavern I recognized, and the lad ushered me through.

Raffnyk, the orc I recognized as Stonefang and several others were gathered within. The human looked up as we entered, his expression tight.

Garek. He greeted me, face pinched.

Raffnyk. I returned with a nod.

Gods Above, man. He sighed. The rider was worn thing by lack of sleep, with bags around his eyes and normally neat clothes in disarray. You could not have picked a worse day to do your shopping.

What did I wander into this time?

Violence. He groaned. Incredible amounts of it. That fact that youre here heralds it as too late to leave. Theyll have sealed the gate by now and be looking for us. And for you.

Who? I demanded. I could smell the unease in the air and the men and women in here shifted, tensed.

Ironmoors bloody bastards. The orc growled. We should have been tipped off when they stopped letting our men out of the blasted town.

The good baron has decided the settle the score with our order once and for all, Raffnyk grimly informed me. Up until now, tensions brewed, yes, but there was some modicum of law and decency.

See, The orc grunted. Just yesterday, the good queen passed away in her sleep. We ride without her protection now.

The time for hard feelings and strained civility has passed, Raffnyk growled. Bloodshed is inevitable, now. The town is locked down, and theyre coming. You wandered in at a fatefully disastrous time, my friend.

Gods Above, and this day had started so well..

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