Chapter Sixty: Tax Men

A caravan full of various merchants, along with tax collectors traveled on the makeshift roads to Orkrasist. Rain was pouring, as it had been the last few days.

The wind was picking up the closer they got to town, eventually making the rain fall like hail on the horses. Promptly after they decided to take shelter. Luckily for them, the road went through the forest, enabling easy coverage from the storm, if they so please.

Night fell and with it came the noises. When the dark runs free, creatures of the forest hunt. Behind every shadow there was rustle, keeping the guards at their toes. New adventurers failed to sleep, either excited, or scared of the noise.

No fire was lightened, as the rain denied such luxury. Instead they abide their time, clothes soaked, tired and restless. No one got a good sleep that night. Hours spent twisting and turning, soon to succumb to slumber, only to be roused by a sudden loud noise in the distant forest.

The weather got worse with every step. The roof on the carriages became nigh useless under the turbulence. The horses became exhausted, barely moving at all. Only the nagging of the coachman kept the horses going.

After many days, they reached the destination. Awe, was the word to describe what they saw. In the midst of a storm, was a town. Untouched by the weather, a haven surrounding it. The sun shone brightly on the town, not a water droplet in sight. The wind stopped just before the walls, never affecting the town.

It was like the eye of the storm, and the merchants, adventurers and tax collectors all longed for its sweet embrace. With new vigor, but the same haste they journeyed for the town. Sadly the horses weren't as excited. They were exhausted and in dire need for rest.

'This is where I'll live from now on?' the adventurers thought.

The town was far away from other cities. Due to this and the lack of a road, adventurers had to settle down in Orkrasist if they wished to work there for any amount of time.

As they closed in on the town they noticed several people stacking bricks on one another, slowly making a meter thick wall.

The Merchants who hadn't been to the town since the war were shocked by the sight. As the wooden wall was as good as gone. Only a few wooden stakes here and there.

"I knew it was bad and things needed to be replaced, but to this extent…" one of the merchants said in shock. Others nodded to his words.

"They work very fast, with absolute unity in their work." one of the adventurers said. He had been to the town some times, running errands, usually protecting the carawan.

"Not only that, I heard Lady Jasmine Marth is already a tier one witch." one of the adventures said in awe. She had been one of the many reasons some adventures moved there. Especially the rumor of her injuring a noble of great statues, just because she was abusing her authority. It inspired many peasants and commoners. She had become a household name to many because of her righteous actions.

…

~Pov Jasmine~ (Third Person)

Many things had happened in the few weeks she's been conscious. First and foremost she was forced to use the surname Marth. It was ominous, even down right evil. Sable Marth was the father of dark rituals, dark magic and possibly necromancy. Not something she wanted to be grouped together with.

But Jasmine accepted her fate and announced her noble name. Afterwards it naturally spread over the country. Despite how common it might seem, new nobility was rare. Most mages came from noble families to begin with. So few were given aristocraft statues.

Jasmine's duties were many, not to mention the endless pestering of her mother to get a husband. It had started after Ronan, her father's death.

Lenart came and went, doing his duty, keeping the forest safe. With no adventurers, he was tasked to do the pest extermination. He would bring back many kinds of alchemical ingredients from various plants and monsters. Increasing Jasmine's job even further.

There were many branches of alchemy, one being potion making. This was where Jasmine's mediocre talent lied.

She brewed many potions, especially those that sold for plenty. With the lack of money they would soon experience, she was in dire need of a new cash flow. So the second they collected the taxes and left, she would sell potions to the merchants.

For this to work well, she had everything prepared. Not a grain amiss. They would be given money and men upon arrival and hushed away.

Jasmine had no love for her country, or hate. But she didn't want to give away her hard work, just because of some stupid war. Especially when they used her own god as an excuse for the war.

…

Jasmine strolled through the restored road. Around her Falkens came and went, living their daily lives. Those who had to go were gathered already. Each had been given a totem from their deity. Their duty was not to fight for the country, but to spread Jantyr's influence.

Jasmine used her staff as a cane, slowly walking towards the parked carawan. Merchants flooded the city with goods, and the merchants in town started trading their own.

Everyone was in a good mood, and so was Jasmine. When those tax men left, she would finally have some free time.

Jasmine hummed to herself and came to a halt in front of an entourage of carriages, almost void of any staff.

"I take it you're the tax collectors and such for the war?" Jasmine said.

"What if?" one of them asked. He was equipped head to toe, like he was in the middle of a battlefield.

"I'm Jasmine Marth, noble and manager of this town. Everything is already prepared and I deduct that you can leave within the next three hours." she said, subtly hinting her displeasure with their presence.