Paradise Under-the-Sky (Pop: 893), Arkansas - Christian Franklin
The clatter of hooves on what constituted Main Street was still a relatively unusual sound to the town’s inhabitants - nearly all of whom were members of the Path, with a few non-members whose skills had been deemed essential mixed in. The sound was so unusual in fact that much of the town stopped for a brief moment, poking their heads out of their cabins or in the case of the people outside of one, just stopping what they were doing entirely. Momentarily, the whole town ground to a halt.
Then it started up again, with a collective sigh of relief.
For this was no cause for alarm, it was merely a caravan of Tranquil Path members returning from the Indian Territory after a brief trading trip. Fortunately, the Native peoples there were quite open to trading with the Path - the latter quite happily trading food for things like tomahawks and bows. As primitive as it may seem, the technology was good - it didn’t require long and carefully planned trips down south or to the east, which was the case with guns and ammunition. There was another benefit to the trade too for the Natives: the Tranquil Path would protect them encroachment by settlers. Though, that wouldn’t be necessary yet - as far as the Path knew, the number of settlers crossing into the Indian Territory by way of Arkansas was small.
Watching the caravan’s return from the town’s main administrative building, was Christian Franklin and his second-in-command - a white northern abolitionist by the name of John. The two men were discussing a matter of minor importance to the town; yet due to the town’s remote location, even these required some form of discussion.
“John, as the Battle-Commander for the Path, you should know most of all that the Emperor’s death could have large repercussions for the region...” Christian began, pulling a torn and slightly faded map from the pocket of his trousers. It was a map of the South, and the current Empire’s domains -
officially anyway. Truthfully though, everyone - even up there knew that the Empire was an empire in name only. The real power lay in a collection of piecemeal vassals and wealthy nobles - or businessmen in that day and age. Well, why not both? Nobles
and businessmen.
“I know this...” John replied without skipping a beat, nodding his head sharply to his superior’s statement. Honestly, the Path had only heard word of the Emperor’s death a week or so after it occurred; a passing trader had been kind enough to clue them in. “I just feel that we shouldn’t go on a defensive footing just yet. After all, we do not know how well this new emperor will rule. He could be a strong influence for peace across the realm - and furthermore, he could even rein in some of his more adventurous vassals.” But little did either of them know that this new emperor was a mere drunkard, who thought himself much more suited to the ballroom and the bedroom rather than the duties of an emperor.
If they had, they’d have just cause for concerns.
“Okay.” Christian stated slowly, placing the map down onto a worn-looking table, he held it in place with two of his fingers. “This may sound impulsive, but I’m going down to Asheville. John, you
cannot stop me from doing this.” John, having accepted Christian’s brash nature several years earlier, didn’t even try - he knew that unless there was tangible danger to the Path itself, his superior would not be convinced. “Don’t look so forlorn, John. We need firsthand information on the new Emperor. Which is why I want someone sent to Texas too.”
Christian wasn’t stupid, he was well aware that as a completely unknown individual of no great wealth or importance, he couldn’t just waltz up to the new emperor and act all buddy buddy with him. Even if the emperor’s “empire” was nothing like a real one. So instead, he’d play the long game - gathering information, trading where he could and hopefully discerning the make up of the new emperor. The Texas-bound Path member would play a similar role - seeking allies, trading where they could and looking for those who could be recruited.
After packing his military uniform, taking one of the Path’s few sidearms - an 1851 Colt “Navy” revolver for defence, and enough rations to last until the next town, Christian set off east. The Path member for Texas departing a little while later - a similar degree of planning going into their journey too.