Author Skills | Fiction | Writing Prompts | Fantasy

The Merchant and the Dossier

A Shadow Kingdoms fantasy short story

As well as being a stand-alone fantasy short story, what you are about to read is a response to Sweet Chaos’s Hodgepodge Challenge #7:

Oberon stared cooly at the two warriors. One was a sturdy dwarf in leather armor, with an axe strapped across his back. The other was an elf with a scarred face, a crossbow at his hip, and a bandana of knives.

The pair looked battle-hardened, certainly. But reliable?

Barkskin, the guild chief, must have detected some skepticism on Oberon’s part, and she was quick to reassure. “These mercs are my best,” she said. “Or at least, the best I can spare for ten gold.”

Oberon growled softly. “As long as they’ll stick the task, that’s all I need.”

“They’ll tough it out to the end. I promise.”

Oberon sighed. Barkskin was honest enough, and the fact was, his options were dwindling to nothing. “Very well.” Oberon handed over the coin with a grunt.

He then walked over to his wagon with a wave, and the pair followed. “Start loading the cases, then,” he ordered. “It’s a monster of a truck — everything should fit.”

“What’s in these boxes?” asked the elf, lifting one of the piles of boxes, sniffing it, and making a disgusted face.

“Never you mind. Just load.”

Oberon was already bitterly regretting the sequence of events that had led to this point. A fortnight ago, an innocent bet had led to the loss of the bulk of his funding.

That horse had seemed a sure thing!

And then, a freak trampoline accident had lost him his trusted partner, Phallanx. The veteran warrior would be housebound for weeks recovering from the injuries.

Now, even his cover story — that he was travelling to Katresburg as a cheese merchant — was under threat. The cargo had been stuck in Sefindarg for a week during a heatwave, the cheese surely passing the point of being edible.

But Oberon felt he would have to stick with the plan. It’s not as if he could claim he was going to that provincial crap-hole of a city for a vacation… No local farmer, passer-by or city guard would believe that!

It was essential that the rebel leaders didn’t get a sniff of what Oberon was actually doing — or they would flee before they could be rounded up and brought to justice.

He also needed to be quick, for meddling Imperial troops in the city would be making matters worse, he was sure.

Soon, though, the hired toughs had finished loading, and the wagon was heading towards the eastern gates of Sefindarg city. Perhaps, Oberon said to himself, it would all work out, and his recent run of bad luck was at an end…

They rumbled along the stone trade road at a steady incline, entering the foothills of the Ironrock Mountains.

Oberon sat up front with his large travel bag, gently guiding the mules along the tree-lined route. The mercenary pair sat at the back. The elf was still making faces, but the dwarf looked contemplative, and soon broke into a wistful song:

Oh, my homeland gray

I will find a way

O’er rock and hill

Through winds that chill

Past goblins foul

Where dire wargs howl

I will find a way

To my homeland gray.

“You hail from these parts, then?” called Oberon over his shoulder.

“Yes, sirree. My sweet home in the Ironrock Mountains. Before they exiled me for being a murd… ercenary.”

“Uh huh…”

As the dwarf fell silent, Oberon pulled the dossier out from the inside pocket of his tunic. Not to read it. Oberon had drawn his conclusions some time ago. But it was essential that he brought hard evidence of the rebellion to Duke Frage.

His word alone would not be enough.

The morning sun began to warm his back as they rumbled up the mountain road towards Katresburg, and Oberon reflected again on his luck changing. It seemed that his mission was finally back on track.

No more than he deserved, either! He was a patriot, and only ever worked to support the Empire and its servants, and to destroy rebels.

At that moment, a terrible screech sounded from above.

Oberon glanced up to see the sun momentarily blocked by a pair of huge wings.

“Well I’ll be… it’s a griffon!” cried the dwarf. “Come, friend — I can show you where to hide.”

“But the mission…” began Oberon, turning in his seat.

But quickly, he realized that the dwarf had not been speaking to him. His hired toughs were already fleeing at top speed, with no regard for their employer or the cargo. Oberon’s eyes widened, anger and then despair crossing his face.

The griffon now swooped low above the wagon, and Oberon leaped sideways then scrambled out in a panic as it passed overhead. It was a terrifying raptor-lion of a beast.

And fast.

Was it attracted by the cheese stench, Oberon wondered to himself? The cargo might have to go, after all…

He pulled a dagger, slashing the two mules’ free from their harness before the griffon could bank and return for another attack. One of the beasts fled, but Oberon held the other tight, pulling it into the trees at the side of the road, where they might be at least partly hidden.

Moments later, the griffon was back. It landed with surprising lightness on the road between Oberon and the wagon, then let out a belch of flame. The wagon and its load were immediately ignited, and within seconds, the cases of cheese began to crackle and smoke.

That was when Oberon noticed the dossier. It had fallen from his tunic, and now lay on the ground under the griffon’s talons, mere inches from the fire.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

He had spoke softly, but the griffon must have had sharp hearing; it turned its beaked head, seek the source of the sound. But then its attention was drawn to the stray mule further down the road. It spread its wings and took off… only for a beat of its wings to propel the dossier right into the roaring cheeseferno.

Cursing in absolute silence, Oberon led the mule further away through the trees. The cart was gone, clearly, as was the dossier.

If he could just make it to Katresburg alive, perhaps the Duke would accept his word after all…

Thanks for reading! Here are the elements from the Hodgepodge challenge:

Core challenge:
Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong/Murphy’s Law (Oberon's series of bad luck – 1pt)
When the going gets tough — the tough flee (the mercenaries – 1pt)

Elements:

A Monster Truck (Oberon describes his wagon this way; 1pt)
A trampoline (1pt)
A dossier (1pt)
A fabricated holiday (Oberon muses over this as a cover story, 1 pt).
Food of your choice (smelly cheese, 1pt).
Someone is singing a song - include a portion (2pts)

Bonus point for each portmanteau:

"Fortnight" is one. I added "cheese-ferno", "murd…ercenary", "dire wargs" (and 'warg' also a portmanteau, as it combines Norse 'vargr' and old English 'wearh'), "raptor-lion" (is a griffon a kind of physical portmanteu, too..?). Plus there's a large bag! 5pts?

Total: 14 points

I decided to add in one of my own prompts: “an elf and a dwarf are friends”, #37 from this list (and arguably #50 features as well):

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