Fountain of Dreams

Chapter One: The Hub

The Hub was a strange sort of place. The more superstitious avoided it entirely, saying it was cursed. The town was situated on a crossroads, inviting all manner of folk who dared traverse the back country. It was home to misfits and vagabonds, freelancers and shopkeepers alike. Its melting pot nature gave it a certain charm, and because it was situated on the border between two city states who couldn't care less if the other existed, it was also a lawless land--exactly the sort of place a well-bred son of a king's knight like Dax Haddaway should not find himself.

He felt eyes on him from every side as he pushed his way through the bustling streets, heard the whispers and sneers about his countryside manner. Didn't help that he stuck out among the sea of dirt and grime with his blond, too-clean hair and washed face. It wasn't his fault that nobody bothered to stop and wash up at the river on their way in.

Dax held his rucksack a little tighter as he was shoved along by the momentum of the other travelers. It would be just his luck that some opportunistic cutpurse would slice open the worn leather and find his entire means of sustaining himself while he traveled. He carried coin on him, sure, but the papers tucked away at the bottom had seen his needs taken care of in every locale he'd visited on the way here. The Hub was a necessary evil and Dax's best bet of finding a mercenary or two willing to go into the Deep Wilds with him.

He set his sights on the swinging sign of a tavern on the other side of the road, but the moment he went to make for it, something large knocked him off his feet.

"Outta my way, idiot!" a gruff feminine voice shouted from somewhere above him.

It took Dax a moment to regain his bearings. When he looked up, the tallest woman he'd ever seen was looming over him, eyes narrowed and angular face scrunched into a scowl.

"I said outta my way," she repeated. "Else I'm gonna trample you." She held a horse by its reins, and beside her a stoic-faced man sat on another horse and stared at him. They shielded Dax as the traffic continued flowing relentlessly around them. Behind the two horses, a giant wooden cart overladen with textiles sat stationary in the road.

Dax climbed to his feet. "Sorry," he muttered. "Just trying to pass through." He threw a thumb over his shoulder at the tavern before offering an apologetic smile and slipping away through the crowd.

It was a wonder the main hall was so full. Dax sniffed at the slop passing for food in his bowl and pushed it aside in favor of the map his old man had drawn him. It wasn't like he was starving. There had to be another tavern in town, though Dax reasoned those must be full as well. The streets were rife with passers-through as the weather improved from the harsh winter they'd all just experienced. He traced his finger along the route he'd need to take to the mountains the following morning. It was just his luck that the bitter winds lasted all year round there, but he'd come prepared.

Dax was so lost in thought, he didn't hear the heavy footsteps approaching.

"Where ya headed?"

Dax looked up. The same angular faced woman from earlier stared down at him, or rather his map, in curiosity.

"Outta your way," he quoted at her, wondering if she recognized him. Her wide grin in response told him that yes, he did.

"Noble boy's gotta sense of humor!" she called over her shoulder.

Dax peered around her to see her companions sitting in the corner of the tavern. They all looked at least three drinks into their evenings.

Without asking, the woman sat next to him and stuck out her hand. "Name's Sasha Varris. You look like you need to hire somebody."