Spring

Spring rolled into the marshland slowly. D was used to the winters far to the south, they were much harsher and lasted longer. Here the first thaw rushed upon them and quickly turned the dreary landscape into one of color almost overnight. Wildflowers bloomed everywhere filling the air with sweet scents and pollen. Jeremiah seemed shocked at the rate at which the land blossomed. But pointed out it would still take a few weeks for the herb he normally farmed to start maturing enough for harvest.

With the sudden thawing, there was now too much work to be done. Rachel's family oversaw a farming region. Though she was a noble lady she had inherited enough knowledge to start the process of planting a number of small fields. Whereas before they had planned only to weather the winter in the area. The new town magically erected changed that. With the fall of the kingdom, there wasn't anywhere better to go.

When they tried to drag D out of his current magical research to do something as boring as farming. His focus instantly returned to money. Mostly their lack of it. With spring would come monsters. Monsters would mean contracts. Contracts would mean money. That was D's logic. So as soon as the menial farm work started D insisted on returning to Nimil to find work.

When Mil declared that Jane should accompany them as he was teaching her to replace him as the wagoneer she was ecstatic. The others were all staying to work on setting up the new fields or foraging the lands for more crops to plant. Between Dean and Jeremiah, they had a decent amount of native crops. But they could always use more.

Nuala still barely spoke. Mostly she had learned only enough speech to demand things. Such as food and for D to play with her. When D, Mil, and Jane loaded up into the wagon Rachel had to physically drag the young girl along to keep her from climbing into the wagon. Dean had insisted she stay in their little town. She wailed like a mother watching her only child murdered in front of her as the group left her behind.

"Ya know," Mil spoke to break the awkward silence once they were clear of Nuala's cries. "This area seems…" he paused thinking. "Less swampy. Don't ya think?" He was sitting on the settee next to Jane who was holding the reins to the wagon's horses with white knuckles. D rode in the back as he stared off into space. His minds, all of them, working on different possible wards.

Mil's words had him look around and then shrugged. "The land seems drier. Look over there." Mil pointed north, into the swamp. "When we came through here last that area was all bog. Soft land and water puddles as far as we could see." D looked and frowned spotting what he meant.

There was little water to be seen compared to months before. The land before had been a maze of rotting vegetation and muck. Now it looks solid beneath the sea of wildflowers. Less like a swamp and more like a grassland.

"Rachel noticed that too. She said the land looked like perfect fertile farmland more than a swamp. Even that Jerimiah…" Jane's dislike for the wastelander's daughter and his blatant schemes for her D tainted her opinion of them. Her tone made it obvious. "Said things are strange." She glanced back at D. "He thinks someone did something with magic to make it like this."

D for his part was looking out at the swampland turned fertile fields and sniffed. All he smelt was flowers, he sneezed. D just shrugged and drifted back into his own thoughts.

As they came up on Nimil, both Jane and Mil frowned. The ramshackle cluster of hovels had changed in the months since their last visits. More, many more, buildings had been added. Most weren't more than the shacks that had previously existed, but there were a few buildings that looked more solid. But more than the change in buildings the change in people was the bigger shock. Before there had been maybe a dozen rough looking men, all eying them with unmasked cruel hunger. Now they saw mostly women and even children.

While they didn't have the cruel looks of the previous residents they weren't all that friendly either. Everyone eyed them with suspicion and the little group noticed some runners heading off.

By the time they arrived at the Hunter's Guild, there were half a dozen people gathered. A few men, though older they didn't look frail. There were a few women too, none of them the scared or helpless looking type. They were all armed, though D and his group only saw one real weapon. A worn looking halberd held by a man near Mil's age but with the continence of a soldier. Most of the others held wood axes or wide bladed machetes normally used to clear brush.

"Halt." The speaker wasn't one of the men. Instead, it was a woman. She was decently tall standing five foot eight. Her brown hair was streaked with grey and tied up in a tight bun. Her dark eyes swept the group and settled on Mil. She had the stern expression of one used to being in charge. D guessed her age to be in her late forties, she was the only member of the group completely unarmed. "What business ya have here? Where did you come from?"

Mil glanced back into the wagon instead of answering and D sighed feeling put out having to do the talking. He stood up drawing the gathered group's attention to him. His features were still those of a youth but he had changed over the winter. Gone was the scrawny malnourished frame he had previously. Whether because of his monstrous nature or the training Dean forced on him daily or more likely both. He had filled out. Going from a scrawny build to one of hard lean muscle. This coupled with his almost explosive growth spurt left him a few inches over six foot tall. Rachel had cut his dirty blonde hair in the same style as Dean's leaving him looking less like a lost waif and more like a young soldier.

Standing in the back of the wagon he towered over the group before hoping down. He still towered over most of them. None missed the easy movement of dropping off the wagon nor how his now too small clothes stretched over his muscular body. It was intimidating to most, though drew the eyes of a few of the women. Something Jane did not miss, she felt her grip on Mil's wand tighten. Her other hand reached up to touch the earring she now wore, the one D had gifted her. It reassured her heart, it was a gift from her D. The fact he had gifted her the magic earring taken from the Mercenary guild leader they had killed in the military camp previously not for any romantic reason. But purely for practical purposes, he didn't want anyone sneaking up on the wagon and stealing from them. Had she not been taking over from Mil he would have given it to the old man.

The earring's true sight ability would allow her to spot amongst other things, invisible thieves.

"I'm here to check the board for jobs." D looked down on the woman and she looked up at him seeming unintimidated.

Gretchen had worked in the kitchens of the royal palace before the invasion. She ruled her fiery domain with an iron fist and more literally a heavy ladle as a club. It was partially thanks to her that the refugees of Nimil had weathered the winter so well. She had gathered those most able bodied together and as a group forced the locals into peaceful cohabitation. The refugees didn't know that it had been possible mostly because the previous gang that ruled over the little outpost had been slaughtered before their arrival. Nor that it was D they really owed their "easy" winter too.

"Ain't no jobs on the board." Gretchen stated still looking D in the eyes.

Right up until D's blank expression turned into a scowl, he had come for work. Even the fierce woman blanched at that. The halberd came down as if to keep D at bay even though he hadn't moved. D turned his scowl on the man who swallowed but didn't move. Tension flooded the air, building until something had to give.