Chapter Text
Of the many wild things he had heard about the western frontier, Lorenz had to admit one was true: there was a stunning quality to the landscape that was in sharp contrast to the increasingly tall buildings and factories back home. He couldn’t help but marvel at the sight out of the window of his stagecoach, fields of tall grasses and flowers surrounding them and stretching in every direction towards the horizon, where the setting sun painted the sky a brilliant shade of orange that seemed more intense and vivid than what he saw back home. The mountains to the north served as an excellent backdrop for the landscape, the snowcaps shining pink along with the few clouds in the sky.
‘Ignatz would give anything to paint this,’ Lorenz thought as he happily gazed at the spectacle.
A rough bump in the road brought him back to his senses as he steadied himself, remembering that he was not here to admire scenery. He stuck his head out of the window to regard the two people sitting at its helm, one clutching a shotgun. “Will we make Sauin before dark?” he called out.
“Aye, don’t you worry, Master Gloucester,” the man holding the reins said. “We’ll be there shortly, I must say I’m looking forward to an evening at The Drunken Huntsman. Get a good pint in my belly for the evening.”
Lorenz slid back into the comfy accommodations of the stagecoach, before pulling out the flyer from his pocket and inspecting it for the umpteenth time: the drawn image staring back at him was generic in every way, other than a smile that looked as dangerous as any weapon.
He let out a sigh. The town of Remire had been the last stop on the train he’d taken all the way from Deirdru before it went nonstop through the mountains to the coast, and he’d been hoping for results there. His first stop after stepping off the train had been the Marshal’s Office, and the teal-haired woman had been utterly inscrutable as he’d explained the situation to her.
“If this man came through here, he left quickly,” the Marshal said, in a tone so neutral he couldn’t tell if it was an eerie calmness or apathy. “Anyone looking to get away from trouble back east would be smart to head into the frontier as quickly as possible, though how well equipped they are to survive it is another question.”
“I was afraid of that,” he sighed. “I cannot say how well he can handle the conditions out here, though my tracking makes me think he came here with a goal and specific destination in mind.”
The Marshal simply nodded. “No doubt this person has gone to ground. I can’t spare anyone, so you’ll want to either post a bounty here and hope someone takes it, or hire someone directly.”
Lorenz sighed. “I would certainly benefit from a local who knows the area, and someone skilled in tracking people to boot, though I would prefer to avoid the messiness and publicity of a free-for-all among people seeking the bounty. Not to mention from my own investigation he is a master of disguise through blending in.” And other ways, if the strange report the mercenary captain he’d interrogated were to be believed, but he didn’t want to bring that up.
“The best person I know such a task lives out in Sauin, about a day’s ride from here. Her name is Leonie Pinelli,” the Marshal said. “Ask at the Drunken Huntsman, you shouldn’t have any trouble finding her.” For a brief moment Lorenz could see an emotion pass her face for the first time, a hint of sadness, but it quickly disappeared. “There’s stagecoaches on the west end of town for hire.”
Lorenz put away the poster as the man riding shotgun lit and hung lanterns on the side of the carriage. Sunset had given way to dusk, and just as Lorenz had started to question the accuracy of his driver, they rounded a hill and in before him he could now see the lights of what passed for a town in these parts, though back east it would barely deserve the designation of a village.
Regardless of its size, Lorenz steeled himself as the stagecoach reached the outlaying buildings. The first order of business was securing dinner and lodgings for the evening, hopefully something befitting his tastes, and then to inquire after this Miss Pinelli. If the things Marshal Eisner had told him were true, she would be the key to bringing justice against the man who had gone to great lengths to escape it.