August 18th, 2199. 9:22 AM. Quailman's Flat, The Birdcage Trading Emporium, 22 miles from The Void.
The Birdcage wasn’t the kind of place that most people living within the borders of The Void would ever intentionally seek out unless you lived on the other side of Quailman's Flat, and the closest place there that had people coming over to do business of any kind was from on the other side of the Ash valley in one of the dozen or so settlements there. They usually came from either Blackridge, Blighton or to the east of those in Firebend or Bartertown. Being in the exact spot that it was in though, people in the Void wouldn’t risk long distance traveling to the Birdcage trading emporium because of the often unstable air currents in the desert would cause rather violent sand swarms, and it was too dangerous to risk unless you had covered transportation to wait out the storms in, like the wagons that were mostly used by traveling professional hoarders. Most trader’s though-at least those with any sense, would take the long way around The void, and use the Pacific trail to go to the coastal town of Fishbin to do their trading. Traveling at any lengths in the Void was often too dangerous. Still, though, the small trader’s den known throughout the region as the Birdcage not only survived in the often hostile wilderness amongst the sand dunes and palm trees, but it thrived.
If there was one thing that Birdcage proprietor Thadeous T. Rosenbloom could count on was that the same two young men every two months would travel from Firebend across the Ash valley to trade for leather goods, glass marbles, various sizes of steelshot bearings, and smooth round stones, although steelshot was over time becoming quite rare, all of which could be used as slingshot hunting projectiles, in the right hands a slingshot was still a very effective hunting weapon on most small game, not to mention in the right hands they could be lethal to human beings as well. But most people in the area-including the boys, were armed with crossbows to deal with larger threats, such as people. Almost as if right on cue, the two young men showed up and spent an entire morning trading with Thadeous, exchanging pleasantries, telling him in great detail about their journey from Firebend. They came with bags of dehydrated beef and jerked chicken, and various dried fruits from the across the Ash valley on the far side of Firebend where their families still farmed their own land, and on their journey to the birdcage as they traveled across the Ash, they would spend the hottest time of the day beneath nut trees picking shelled nuts to bring with them to barter for supplies for an even longer journey that they were planning to Fishbin.
Thadeous liked the boys, and they were amongst his favorites to trade with, so whenever he would come across something special that he knew that they might be interested in, he would set it to the side and give them first crack at it. In this particular case, he’d come across two full pouches of steel shot bearings and even more various sizes of marbles. He traded them along with three replacement slings, leather pockets and a newly acquired cache of steel shaft crossbow arrows that he’d come across in his dealing with some of the locals. The boys-happy with the trade, headed back to Firebend in early afternoon. What Mox and Trip hadn’t noticed, right from the start, were the three distant figures that had picked up their trail just two miles inland from the Birdcage near Ford’s fork. It was Trip Anders who picked up their silhouettes in the distance, he immediately alerted Moxley Kile to the possible danger. They headed to higher ground and nestled into a small thicket of bushes, where Mox dropped to one knee and pulled out his telescopic spyglass to assess the situation. There were three shirtless males of varying sizes, all rather on the skinny side, Mox ventured a guess that it was perhaps food that they were after. It seemed as good a guess as any, they were going to have to fight to keep everything that they had, so they quickly outlined a plan and a place to make their stand if necessary.
They opted for an abandoned township with plenty of empty out buildings to provide them cover, Mox and Trip had both hunted in the area some time ago, and they were familiar with the layout, and if they did it right they could easily get the upper hand quickly in any possible skirmish. The township was a long-deserted place the locals knew as Burnt Ends with long narrow moss covered streets, oddly placed empty buildings, one two story at the end of what once was the main street offered them a perfect vantage point to see the targets if they were indeed being followed. They carefully made their way to the rooftop and took cover at the building's edge and patiently waited to see if the three strangers would appear, just fifteen minute later their suspicions were confirmed as three figures slowly turned onto the main street. Mox Kile had already loaded a medium shot steel bearing into the pocket of the slingshot, had it locked into place along his wrist and was drawing a bead on the lead target, when an idea struck him, there was a metal sign about twenty feet in front of them, if he could hit it with the steel shot, the noise might make them think twice about engaging the boys as the three strangers did not appear to be armed. Six feet across the roof, Trip Anders had already removed his crossbow from his back harness and had it loaded, and was drawing a bead on the second male in line behind the first. They were ready.
Mox moved his aim toward the metal sign and drew a deep breath and held it until his aim steadied. He let the steel shot fly, and it struck the sign with the desired results, when the steel shot struck it, it made the most obnoxious clanging noise and as expected scared the wits out of the three strangers, but in reality it was Trip Anders shot that convinced them to abandon the search for their prey, also true to its mark, Trip’s crossbow shot struck the second man in the chest taking him down immediately, causing the remaining two to run the other way without even considering to look back. They waited until almost twenty minutes had passed before making their way to the still body of the fallen stranger, Trip had loaded another shaft into the crossbow and provided cover for Mox while he checked the body, he placed two fingers on the neck of the man before turning his head slightly to look up at Trip, he ran his hand in a knifing gesture over his own throat indicating that he was indeed dead. Trip had made a clean kill with one shot. He moved in behind Mox to recover the arrow, while Mox checked to see if the other two had tried to take cover or doubled back on them, and they were nowhere to be seen. the boys then retreated into one of the empty buildings to take stock of their supplies before pressing on to Firebend.
They left Burnt Ends behind them with early evening approaching, they knew that they had about two and one half hours of daylight left to burn before they would need to seek shelter for the night. They traveled east towards Coker’s mounds, and a series of high rolling hills, some high and wide enough to have small caves in their sides, caves big enough for two people to rest comfortably and to even have room to build a small fire if needed. Behind them on the western skyline dark ominous clouds began to form, and rumblings of deep thunder echoed across the entire Ash valley, Moxley and Trip knew that they didn’t have much time, the storm was gaining on them but fast. The terrain became rocky mixed in with the sparse vegetation, grassy hillsides and briars, the pathways became thinner and undefined and much harder to see once the storm had blocked out the remaining sunlight. It was almost completely dark when they made it to the first cave, midway up onto the first hillside. The first drops of rain began to pelt their skin just as they got inside a small opening just big enough for both of them, there would be no fire built, however, as the storm moved in quickly and a virtual downpour, squashed any hopes of gathering fuel for a proper fire.
The storm raged on throughout the night, rain continued to pelt the entire valley and occasionally thunder would erupt with flashes of lightning that illuminated the sky as they slept inside the small cave. They were dry even though there was no fire and slept undisturbed until the first rays of light began to peek through the clouds the next morning. It was still raining when some distant noises woke them both up, it was still very early and they had difficulty seeing, but they could plainly hear a distant voice from out in the storm yelling, followed by what sounded like a crack of a whip. Trip pointed out about one hudred yards or so in front of them down on a narrow stone covered path, there was a hoarders covered wagon, stalled in a small rut, two large oxen were out in front of it, but they didn’t appear to be moving. Mox looked at Trip and then back down at the wagon.
“It’s a hoarder from the looks of the wagon, looks like they’re stuck, If we help them, it could be a ride back to Firebend if they’re headed that way.” He said.
They both agreed and pulled their hoods up over the tops of their heads before gathering their packs and weapons to head back down the hillside. It was still raining, although not as heavy as before, still the ground was quite wet and slick and footing was tricky in places. It took them upwards of thirty minutes to reach the the back of the wagon, a very large man was underneath clearing out debris from under the wheels cursing loudly at the top of his lungs, both Mox and Trip fought back a smile. It was one of the bigger hoarders wagon’s that either of them had ever seen, to Trip it looked like something out of one of those old picture books that he used to have as a child that Mox’s mother taught them both to read from. The wagon itself was well over nine feet tall on the sides and was made of wood with four large steel spoked wheels on either side, forward and to the back, it was painted on the sides in bright colors and had huge fancily written words that read, Pilgrim’s Trade Goods. Neither Mox nor Trip recognized the picture of the animal that was brilliantly painted on each side, but Mox guessed that it was some sort of wolf. He leaned down cautiously to offer the hoarder their assistance..
“Excuse us sir, but do you need some help?” He asked, tentatively moving back toward Trip.
When he heard the voice he quickly pulled himself out from under the wagon to see who was addressing him. He was an older fellow, maybe as old as fifty or sixty years perhaps, well over six foot tall he was, a mountain of a man to be certain, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest, long salt and pepper hair fell down his upper back. His face was well weathered and his cheeks round and full, his eyes were of the sharpest hazel color that Mox had ever seen, He wore a long brown coat that appeared to be made of leather, his clothes looked strangely neat and clean and he almost seemed menacing, and for the briefest of moments Mox considered that perhaps he and Trip made a grave mistake approaching the strange looking hoarder. He looked them both up and down and then past them up at the hillside. He nodded toward Cokers mounds.
“You two young fellers come from up there did ya?” He asked.
They both nodded.
“And did anybody else come with ya?” He asked suspiciously.
“No sir we came alone, well together, but- alone.” Trip tried to answer.
He lowered his chin to his chest, and gave them both a stern look, his eyebrows slowly arched in suspicion.
“You two young fellers wouldn’t lie to ol Pilgrim now would ya?” He asked.
Again both boys shook their heads no.
“Well alright then, from the looks of things my rear axle got itself high centered on that tree branch that came loose in last nights storm, now ol Bull and Tak up there can’t seem to yank it free, and it’s still too dark under there to see exactly what’s going on. But I reckon I'm really stuck here.” He told them.
Mox offered to go under the wagon to have a look. and when the older hoarder was confident that the boys weren’t trying to hoodwink him he reluctantly agreed. Mox cautiously made his way under the wagon, moments later he stuck his head out from under it and looked up at them both.
“Sir? It looks like you rear wheel on the other side is stuck in a pretty deep hole, and the fat part of that tree limb is right in front of it, I think if we had something to saw with we could cut through and clear it and then the oxen could pull you out from the hole, but we need a saw.” Mox told him.
He walked around to the back of the wagon and opened two double wooden doors and pulled down a set of steps and then lifted himself up inside, moments later he reappeared with two long blade hand saws, Mox and Trip each grabbed one and went under the wagon and began to work on cutting the tree limb into pieces to free up the rear wheel. With their backs to the wind they began cutting through the limb, reducing it’s size a piece at a time, all in all it would take them almost an hour to clear the entire underside of the wagon. Pilgrim went under to inspect the rear axle and when satisfied that it was undamaged he tended to the Oxen and within a few minutes time the massive beasts had pulled the rear wheel clear of the hole. Pilgrim had indeed been heading in the direction of Firebend and told the boys that he had more than enough room for both of them to ride along with him and Mox sat on the driver’s board on the passenger side, and Trip sat behind them in the opening of the cabin. Through a thick curtain he could see various odds and ends that were typically found in a hoarders wagon, empty oil lanterns hanging on the wall, various hand tools neatly stacked and catagorized, wooden boxes and some empty mason jars, a food bin more than likely filled with his personal supply, along with stacks of old blankets and clothing and different types of hats. Oddly though the one thing that he didn’t see were weapons, although hoarders were typically known to keep those hidden from prying eyes, as most were usually armed to the teeth which was why few people were crazy enough to mess with them.
The storm had slowly pulled away and began to move westward as Pilgrim guided to two oxen team in an eastern direction, the stone trail had smoothed somewhat the further they moved into the grasslands, and as trees became a more frequent sight Mox knew that they were getting closer to Firebend. The wagon bobbed and swayed as it moved along the trail rolling over small ruts and stones and the occassional puddle left behind by the previous evenings rain storm. As they rolled along Pilgrim regaled them with stories of his life as a professional hoarder, and in turn Mox shared stories about their home and he and Trips travels through the neighboring lands and their dealings with bandits, grifters, road agents and in general bad people of every sort as well as a few of the good ones. Finally in the distance the familier sight of the small township of Firebend began to take shape on the horizon, and before long they were rolling down the main street which had several old two story brick buildings, some abandoned, with broken dirty glass windows, others with the windows boarded up entirely, and a few that seemed like they were well maintained, some had bartering signs, others were private residences. They finally stopped in front of a long three story brick building set in the middle of what looked like two long broken lines of steel rails that ran along either side of and past it, the rails seemed to reach out for miles and Pilgrim guessed that it was once part of a great railing system that he’d read about in books years ago. The rail house as it was called, served as the townships central hub and visitors center.
They were met by a tall, thin older gray haired fellow whom Mox had identified as constable Kirkland, he met briefly with Pilgrim to discuss the reason for his visit to Firebend and once satisfied that the hoarder wasn’t out for trouble he told him about a safe spot to rest his oxen at the edge of town by the Andreas river. Mox and Trip rode with him to the site to the very edge of the farming district where they both lived and once Pilgrim found a good spot to rest the team they helped him secure his wagon before heading home to Stonegate farm. Later in the evening as it wasn’t a long walk, the boys returned to Pilgrim’s encampment to offer him some fresh chicken and vegetables that Mox’s mother had prepared that evening for supper, which he happily accepted and thanked them for. They sat and discussed each of their plans for the near future and Pilgrim told them that he would be headed northwest to the hoarders base camp near the township of Dewfork, and Mox and Trip discussed their plans of going to Fishbin near the ocean, where they were to barter for supplies and a couple of horses before continuing on to the foot of the Diablo mountain range to hunt for larger game. Somewhere in the conversation they had all mapped out a plan for the three of them to travel a good part of the way together as the trip to Dewfork would take Pilgrim across the Temblor Traverse, a winding, narrow, and in places, a treacherous pathway that would take them to the Pacific Trail. Once there the three new friends would part ways, with Pilgrim heading to Dewfork and Moxley and Trip taking the Pacific Trail to Fishbin.
~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2014~
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