One Moo'r Plow

Book 1: Chapter 34: Exemption.

It was with great reluctance that I approached the gates of Hullbretch once more. Against my better judgment, but under the advice of other people, I was here to swallow some of my pride and make life easier for myself. Myself and the other had debated this topic briefly, and the general consensus had come to a simple fact; Business in this town would be easier than a lengthy journey elsewhere.

Was my pride on this one explicit matter, and my time more valuable than just getting the matter sorted out? None of the other had been able to make a resounding case for that, so here I was. Cart pulled behind me, I approached the wooden gates in a peaceful manner. Or attempted to. Even as I stood before the wooden walls, guardsmen swarmed at the top, clearly panicked.

Bows were levied over the top of the wall in response to my polite waves, and I reconsidered this for a moment.

Whadyya want?! Came the shout off the battlements, a harsh response to my approach.

I come in peace? Was all the reply I had energy for. I think?

Didnt seem that way last time! Another, distinctly nasally voice shouted from off to the side. Yah nearly ran me over!

Somehow, that did little to evoke any sort of pity within myself.

My brother in Aurelan, I shook my head and referenced the deity of wisdom. You chose to stand in the bulls path. Am I meant to ensure that your common sense functions correctly? Im here to pay what I owe, not incur even more damages.

A string of curses was all I received in response, and after a moment a head popped over the wall and glared down at me.

Fine. Came the bark of annoyance. Youre granted entry, provided you actually honor your word.

Have I ever not?

The guard captain snorted and shook his head as the gates began to creep open.

Nice try, but I dont know you, so your words about as useful- he trailed off and cleared his throat. Point is, therell be lawmen following every step you take, bull.

If that makes you feel better, then by all means, proceed. i shrugged and hefted my cart once more. Flippant though I was, I was eager to get into the shade of Hullbretch and out of the boiling sunlight. But I fail to see how that will affect anything.

Fully aware that I had just declared his men unable to stop me from doing as I pleased, I strolled beneath the walls of Hullbretch and welcomed myself back into the town. If not I, then who else would welcome me, after all? Certainly not the good citizens or their outstanding guards.

True to the captain's words, a contingent of hard-faced men and women in armor trailed me from a distance, but even with the space between us, I could smell the fear that roiled off their bodies. Others might have considered this a perk, but for me, the fear instilled at the mere sight of my form was an annoyance. I just wanted to be bloody friendly. That was rendered rather difficult when every person that passed within view of me reacted as if my mere presence courted death directly upon them. Preposterous.

I was not that scary.

Was I?

Either way, it made the task of acquiring directions to the towns debtor office rather irritating.

I frowned at yet another hastily fleeing citizen and stood with my arms crossed, deep in mental debate. The majority was to simply say fuck it and leave. I had come to pay off the inconvenient fine for damaging the walls and attempt to sort of out this stupid tax business, and yet how would I do that if I couldnt even find the gods-blasted building?

Fate offered me yet another kick to the shins a moment later. I rounded a corner and found myself facing down a trio or rather..colourful individuals. In the time it took their eyes to widen, I distractedly glanced them over and was about to dismiss their presence when I looked again. Before me was arrayed a woman who was unmistakingly an elf, a purple-skinned man with ram horns that flowed from his scalp and a decidedly bored, extremely short person I took was either a dwarf or a halfling. Couldnt tell because I had yet to meet any other of his race.

One by one, their eyes found me and a variety of expressions crossed their faces. The elf displayed a droll curiosity, the rather flamboyant humanoid recoiled in surprise and cut off midway through a joke, and the dwarf -if such he was- stepped back.

Greetings. I rumbled with a wide smile. You have most wonderful timing.

Hullo? The humanoid peeped in return, still frozen mid-step.

Indeed. I nodded. See, Im looking for directions.

The mention of that made him perk up and straighten his open-chested shirt before the man swept into a flashy bow. From which he straightened with a beaming smile and extended grip. There was enthusiasm in his grip as he shook my far larger hand and introduced himself. The captain of an adventuring party fresh to the area and seeking trouble, as he put it unashamedly put it.

If you would be so kind as to direct us to the nearest worthwhile gathering on monsters, we would but of course make it worth your time! He beamed. His companions seemed less enthused but nodded along, content to let him do all the talking.

Well, I admitted. Im afraid I know but one such gathering place, and that happens to be the general vicinity of Mount Redtip.

Splendid, splendid! He enthused. Many thanks, my good fellow. The Unbound Blades will be sure to remember your generosity for ages to come. When they sing epics of our adventures, I will be sure to include you, the reliable and thoughtful purveyor of directions.

I blinked, squinted at him and snorted.

I would be more thankful if you chose to forgo that and instead just gave me directions to a specific building in this town. I rumbled, and confusion crossed his face, followed by a sheepish regret.

Well, as I said, we are new to this area and know very little of the architecture. Yet. I assure you we will be the most reliable of direction acquirers in the future.

I sighed and shook my head, ready to let myself just turn around and march back out of town. Supplies be damned, this was too much of a hassle.

Dont know why I expected fresh faces to know where the tax office is, but thats on me.

The tax office? You should have led with that. By your good fortunes, we just came from there. He pointed.

Confusion must have dawned upon my face, because he laughed and explained a moment later.

We thought it wise to pay the adventuring tax early and get it out of the way.

The what now?

The new adventuring tax, apparently. The dwarf broke in with a grumble from behind a massive, bushy beard. Twere informed that the lord of these lands has issued a new tax and that we were subject to it as soon as we entered his lands.

How, even? I asked, mostly out of polite curiosity. It didnt affect me as I was not an adventurer, but it seemed to me that launching new taxes haphazardly was not a sign of the barons good mood. Or it could herald a build-up of coin and armed forces in the near future.

A Taxman approached us on the road, of course. Vultures like those are always lurking about. They have a special skill that informs them of unpaid taxes, you see. So were just minding our own business and trekking for town when this dandied up leech just comes a-zoomin down the road, fresh on the trail and huntin for the scent of unpaid dues. Stops us and informs us that were to pay the adventuring tax either to him right there, or to the office here in Hullbretch. We did nay have the bloody coin, so we had to borrow from the bank and pay it off right now. Only mercy was that we didnt have to actually go into the bloody office and just paid it outside.

Did this taxman perhaps have a description? I asked, curiosity now firmly piqued. Well-dressed, greasy, lacking any semblance of facial hair?

Why indeed! The swashbuckler replied. A splendid description.

Well then, I smiled, my teeth bared. It seems I have urgent business ahead. Some matters that need settling, you understand.

Once I had foisted directions upon the trio, I straightened, parked my empty cart, and strode off. There was unfinished business that I was about to conclude. It had waited long enough and would be delayed no longer.

The office had forgone to bother with receptionist, and so I stooped through the low doorway and knocked upon the first closed door I could find. The human within quickly straightened and tucked away a bottle as I chose not to wait for an answer, then directed me to the office that handled matters of tax with all due haste. More out of fright at my form than eagerness to get back to drinking, I assumed.

The man I found slumped behind a desk within was distinctly not the greaseball I remembered. Instead, this fellow seemed old, paunchy, and positively stretched thin. The same tired look of bureaucratic fatigue I had seen so many times. It was a testament to his inability to summon a singular fuck to give that a full-blooded minotaur stooping into the confines of his office only evoked a single raised eyebrow.

How might I assist you today? Came the dry, dusty voice of a man too tired for any of the worlds bullshit.

I debated between just getting this over with in a semblance of politeness and the utter ruination of his day. In the end, basic decency triumphed and I took the far too small offered seat and extracted my coin-purse.

Here to pay off a fine for damages incurred to the walls and the damages to the wits and emotional sanctity of a guard.

Long and drawn out was the sigh I received in return. With a grunt, the man pulled open a cabinet and began to rifle through them.

Outstanding warrants, delayed fines, unpaid bills. He muttered to himself and sorted through sheaves of paper. Several awkward moments passed before he found a single piece of parchment and held it up to better squint at it.

A mister Garek? He asked, to which I nodded. He read off an amount, to which I counted coins onto the desk. A smaller amount than I had expected. It was finished soon, and the man signed something onto the parchment and filed it away in a separate cabinet.

I believe that is now all, unless you have another matter to discuss?

I did, in fact.

Indeed. I am here to appeal a matter of unpaid debts.

The man blinked and glanced between me and the cabinet. Visible confusion etched itself across his face as I described the situation, the generational debt and my newly acquired Tax Evader status.

Mister Garek. He finally broke in as I civilly attempted to explain how it hurt my business. That is complete and utter hogwash, sir. You do not owe the baron a single copper, and whoever told you otherwise is a charlatan of the basest degree. My lord is too busy with the actual affairs of ruling to care about extorting some poor farmer at the edges of his land, I assure you. If fear you have been taken advantage of, or at least attempted to. Could you perhaps provide a description of this alleged Taxman?

Fate must have had a bloody good laugh right about then, because the door opened behind me and said man walked right in.

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