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Merchants of the Silent Shore

Chapter I

"Was it the red one? Or the yellow?" Marty asked himself, holding up the two ends of wires, two of many that jutted out of the open panel like frizzy hair. He had been working for so long that he had lost track of what wires went where. If he remembered right, one would correctly connect the ship's stabilizing system to the automatic controls, and the other was the power source. If he incorrectly plugged one into the other, it would fry irreplaceable hardware.

"Red?" He held up the red wire. "Or Yellow." He then held up the yellow wire and looked at the single opening which he would stick one into. He felt a bead of sweat on his forehead and quickly shook his head.

That was a mistake as a wave of dizziness swept over him. He had been up for the better part of the day and a small flickering light on his wrist in the shape of a water droplet was a reminder that he hadn't been drinking much either. He should have stopped for the day and come back later, fully refreshed, but Marty wasn't known for his patience. He wanted to fix the ship now and had been telling himself that it would be done soon for the better part of the month, but issue after issue kept rising up.

Two weeks ago, it was the leak in the fuel tanks. A few days after that, the hydraulics for the landing gears got gunked up. Then it was the onboard navigations computer and now it was the stabilizing systems. Once he fixed one thing or at least got it to the point where it wouldn't kill him, he found another problem quickly and he couldn't keep it up for much longer. The spare parts that he had were running out and some things just couldn't be replaced.

"At least the Cossus engine was still intact," Was what he said. The small metal box had been completely untouched by the whole ordeal and even then, it was probably the least finicky thing aboard, which was ironic since it was the sole piece of technology that allowed for faster than light travel while the ship's internal waste disposal was never going to work again due to a few blown transformers that couldn't be replaced.

"It's the red one." A voice chimed in from somewhere above from the prone position that Marty was in.

"How can you be sure?" Marty yelled back up.

Suddenly Marty's light source, the sun which was shining through the ship's open canopy and filling the cockpit with a gentle warmth was washed away by a figure.

"I remember you making a note of it on your magical wrist thing." It was Felix, the ex-bandit who had tagged along two months prior when he had fled Marty and ended up a prisoner of Cleric Hansen.

Normally a bandit would be executed, but Felix had found himself especially fortunate. Instead, he was given to Marty as a slave, though Marty preferred to call him his assistant. Regardless of the official title, Felix was to serve Marty unconditionally and in exchange, he would be allowed to live. Felix took to the job quite well after he realized that Marty wasn't in the business of beating slaves.

Over the two months since Marty had met with Sindri, the two had been working on fixing Marty's ship. Marty told Sindri that he wasn't a god, but instead had to go with the story that he was a messenger, a sign. Marty hated taking advantage of their faith like that, but he had to if he was ever going to get home.

This title gave Marty a lot of power. Technically he had more power than all of the High Pontiffs, but he rarely used it. He had his ship brought to Melur where he could work on it since the Church insisted that he remain behind the safety of the walls. That was what he did now when he got some time away from the Church who always had more questions to ask about everything from when the gods intended to return to how his equipment worked. Marty answered as truthfully as he could which usually boiled down to, "I don't know." They were mostly disappointed, but content with the answers given.

Marty raised his wrist to his face and a screen appeared, hovering just inches above his arm and sure enough there was a note that he left for himself reminding him of exactly what wires were which.

"Hmm." Marty rubbed his eyes. He was too tired to be working. One wrong move and he might electrocute himself, but still better finish this one first.

Marty took the red wire and put it int the socket, leaving the yellow wire behind for later.

"You look like shit," Felix chimed in and lent a paw to Marty to help him back on his feet.

"Better not let anyone here you talking to me like that," Marty warned with a smile. "They're pretty fickle about who they let around me and have you heard them talking to me?"

Felix shook his head.

"It sounds like each word is meticulously picked out as if I actually care how they talk to me." Marty wiped his hands off on a rag he had in one of his pockets. Other than his wristband that contained his notes, he was wearing the local garb. His suit was getting quite smelly and he didn't really need it while he was planetside. "Why don't you seem to care?"

"Me?" Felix pointed at himself and flicked his tail. "Well, at first I did. I was sure that I was going to be losing my head once the Church had me. Was sure of it and then they pull this on me." He reached up and touched the collar on his neck. "One tends to stop caring."

"I wish they didn't do that," Marty apologized. "They insisted."

"It's fine," Felix brushed it off. "Doesn't choke me any and you've been a very generous master."

"We'll see how long that lasts," Marty joked and patted Felix on the back. "Why don't you head back and get some rest. We've been working most of the day now and I'm sure you'd appreciate a bath and a nap."

Felix grinned, his fang-like teeth showing prominently. "I guess that's one perk of being the slave of the Messenger; I get to use his luxurious home for myself."

"Don't get too comfortable. I got to head over to the chapel and have a few words with the good man, Barthelm. But once I get back, I fully intend to use that bath. I want the water nice and warm."

"Oh?" Felix's ears perked. "Putting the slave to work, stoking the fire under your tub?"

"Perks of being the slave of the Messenger." The two chuckled and Marty sent Felix off. Normally he would have had Felix accompany him wherever he went. It seemed to be the normal for a slave to accompany their master wherever they went, sometimes with a leash, but again, he wasn't going to push the slave thing too much.

Marty stood for a moment in the building he was in while Felix left. He looked up at the architecture and the sheer size of the building that the Church just had available.

"The city is so big that there are entire sections that are simply uninhabited," Marty said to himself in awe. Roughly a third of the entire city was empty and the filled parts were sparsely populated. Marty estimated that a healthy population for the city would be around four million. According to the Church there was only one million people living in the city. It appeared their gods had some big plans for this world before they left. That was thing, though, the more Marty heard about these gods and from his experiences so far, he was becoming more and more convinced that he wasn't the first human to set foot on this world.

One thing that had been bothering him in both the waking world and in his dreams was the corrupted individual. The way that he had looked before dying. He recognized Marty; he knew exactly who, or what he was. Marty could just tell that. Plus there was the foreboding message.

"This world is mine and for this transgression, this world belongs to Aetin." It had looked right at him. "Tell your masters that they will never atone."

Marty wanted more answers so that was why he was going to talk to Sindri. The Pontiff seemed to have a solid understanding of his own religion and perhaps he could shed some light on what was going on.

Marty closed up the ship, not that anyone would be able to do anything with it anyways. The thing couldn't fly and there was a constant guard on the building. Then he headed out into the city where a pair of guards fell into step behind him and Marty checked if either of them was Vargus, but neither were. Sometimes it was. The guard rotation seemed to take into account that Marty considered the wolf a friend.

The two got along very well and the wolf was really the only person, other than Felix, that Marty felt that he could be frank with. Everyone else was too uptight to even try to talk casually with. Perhaps in time they'll learn because time was all that Marty had at the moment. It would be several more months before the ship would be ready for its first trial and even then, that was if Marty could get around the fact that he was missing so many parts. Every day it was a struggle to find ways to jerry-rig parts into other parts and at the rate he was going through spares, he wasn't sure how much more he could do.

"I can go on from here boys," Marty dismissed the guards when he got to the chapel. Guards weren't necessary here. The paladins were very thorough in their duties to make sure the High Pontiff was safe at all times. If the city walls were ever breached, then the chapel would easily become the next most well-defended location to fall back to simply due to the fact that it was the one place in the city that was guaranteed to have several paladins at all times.

Marty had looked into the history of the paladins. They were like an elite guard for holy sites and officials of the church. They used 'miracles' from the gods to give them increased strength, speed and resistances to the Fel. They became walking tanks that took hundreds to bring down.

Marty had only seen one in action for a few minutes when he had been attacked by corrupted individuals several months back and it was a sight that he wouldn't forget. They swung massive weapons around as if they were sticks and ran at incredible speeds while wearing full plate armor. It made Marty a little jealous. They did all of this with this magic while it took a mess of hydraulics and wires to even get somewhat close to what they could do back home. It would be something else to look into more when he had time.

"I've been expecting you." The Pontiff set down his book when Marty was allowed in by Paladin Veneer. "Do please sit down." The small ferret offered the chair across from him with a wave of his paw and a smile. "I've been meaning to speak with you for some time, but it seems our duties like to get in the way. I'm told you work on your air chariot nearly every day."

"It's a lot of work and I can't put it off," Marty replied and sat down on the offered chair. The leather squeaked as he put his weight down. He declined a cup of tea that the Pontiff always seemed to have ready.

"You've only gotten here. Is it really so important to leave so soon?" Sindri asked. "There is so much potential in you and I'd hate to impose but..."

"The war with the heretics," Marty said with no great enthusiasm. "I've told you before, but I don't know just how much I'm allowed to interfere."

"Have you been forbidden to help?"

"No, but my coming here wasn't exactly according to plan," Marty tried to explain, but he already knew where this was going. If it wasn't Sindri who asked, it was someone else. They all wanted to use him to end the war because they had seen what his weapons could do.

"The gods work in mysterious ways." Sindri sipped on his own tea. "And so we must work with them as best as we can."

"What do you mean?" Marty asked. Already. the conversation was going in a different direction as before. Normally it would be a series of polite denials until Marty dismissed himself. He felt rude to say no so many times. They had been so friendly to him and had provided so much but Marty couldn't give them technology, they would destroy themselves with it.

"I've discussed it with the others and we're prepared to make you an offer."

"Alright. I"m listening." Marty didn't really see a reason to not at least listen to what was being offered.

"Do you know of the Guild States?"

Marty recalled hearing about them in some conversations. They were a nation that was unassociated with the Church. "A little bit."

"Allow me to educate you." The ferret cleared his throat. "The Guild States were established shortly after the Gods left, a group of individuals settled on the shore to get away from the fighting that was occurring inland. There they discovered rich farm lands and mineral rich mountain ranges and so they prospered. When the fighting stopped and the world stabilized, the Guild States opened their borders to trade. With all of their natural resources, they've managed to remain independent and neutral in all wars. Currently, they supply both the Heretics and us, but the Heretics are failing and key members of the Guild States are open to negotiating for exclusive trade with the Chruch and all the nations currently in the Chruch Lands."

"And you want me to be your representative or something to that end." Marty got the picture now. He had done his fair share of negotiating to know how much of a difference it could make by bringing a known individual to the table. The Rangers had done that plenty with Marty, being the best and most reliable Ranger there was, to get companies to accept more favorable contracts.

Sindri nodded. "Yes, we would like you to accompany the envoy on this mission and simply be there for face. We do not intend for you to do any actual negotiating."

"Okay, but what's in it for me. You said this was going to be a deal for the both of us."

"I'm getting to that." Sindri chuckled.

He remembered a time when he was so impatient as well. Always ready to get on to the next adventure, even if the closest thing he got to an adventure when he was young was going on missions with his mentor to preach out side the walls. It wasn't much, but it was an opportunity to get outside the walls. Surely the Messenger would like to see more of this world.

"I hear that you are having difficulty with your sky chariot." The guards that regularly escorted Marty often got an earful of the Messenger's grumblings about how he was running low on just about everything he needed. Now Sindri had no knowledge of what made the Messenger's machine's work, but he had heard that the Guild States had many intact relics from before the Gods left.

"Yeah, I suppose that's no secret." He kind of felt like going off on a rant of sorts. It was frustrating to have no real control over if he would have enough parts to fix the ship. It really was up in the air because there could still be a lot that could be wrong that he didn't know about.

"I may have a way to fix that issue for you. It's not assured, but there is a chance."

"Oh really?"

"I understand why you are skeptical," Sindri said. "How can we, in our primitive state, understand what you would need?"

"I don't want to be condescending, but yes," Marty replied. "The technicalities involved are beyond what anyone here would be able to comprehend. I barely comprehend it at times, myself."

"But if you were to get the supplies you needed?"

"Well, yeah," Marty agreed. "But where would you get such things?"

"Not me, but the Merchants of the Silent Shore."

"The who?"

"The Merchants of the Silent Shore, they're collectors of rare artifacts including items left behind by the gods. Some of which may be of use to you. You do this for us and you will get a chance to see what they have and if you see anything you need, the Church will be willing to cover the costs." Sindri kind of hoped that Marty wouldn't accept. He feared for the Messenger's safety. Inside the walls he was safe, but outside, Edwin Kelm had spies everywhere. He would be exposed, but this deal with the Guild States could decide the outcome of the war. Without the Guild States, the Heretics would run out of supplies quickly. Still, it wasn't his choice to make and by the way Marty's eyes were shining, Sindri knew that his decision was already made.

"If this is the best way, then I guess so, but I'd like to bring a few others with me as well."