A year before Circe got her new name, she and her motley had built quite the nest egg in San Francisco. Power came in many forms, both contracts and assets. The Rogues had amassed assets in and out of the Hedge. They'd made good investments but sometimes you had to protect an investment.


Such as this time. This time that left the elven Fairest waving away the gun smoke to get a good look at the destruction wrought upon the Hedge. She didn't always like working with hobgoblins but moving product across the border was often a quantity over quality affair and the Fairest's little shoulders could only carry so much between San Francisco and Mexico.


The hobs were happy to take payment in kind to the cargo. The Fairest had the hobs well under control for a few reasons but the biggest factor had been supply. The blue Fairest happened to be the one that provided them with ammo in exchange for not turning on her, actual coin, and the occasional caravan run.


It was a good investment. The hobs' cow squid thing hauled way more guns then the Motley's Hollow to handle, yet it was the guards she appreciated the most. The corpse littered field proved that. The Privateers had sought plunder, expecting to kill a few weak guards with bone spears while wearing some kind of wood, bone, and vine trappings.


Leaning down, the Fairest looked at what she figured was the Privateer leader. Based on her armor having more skulls then any of the others. She spat on the corpse, barely missing one of the many bullet holes. Their Hedgespun armor had not been rifle proof. The blue Fairest walked on to check the path the privateers burst out from while the hobs "checked" the "corpses." The Italian had only admonished them to conserve ammo, she'd never try to take loot from their victory. Her relationship was solid and she'd not endanger that. The privateer corpses that still moved? Better for business if they stopped.


The trail led to a shaggy, snarling, something. It had three legs, green and pink hair, a beak, and was the size of a large cow. And it was harnessed to a cart built like a wooden cage. A thankfully empty wooden cage. The blue Fairest noted a symbol on the cage, skull and crossbones. "Really," she snorted, "They wanted ta be land pirates?" She leaned on the angry beast of burden, it couldn't move so she was sure it was safe.


She wrapped it on the head with her knuckles, "That is just stupid right?" Circe took the snort as an agreement, "Of course I'm right. I mean land pirates? That is corny as Hell." Same sound, she tried scratching the smart beastie behind a probable ear. Worked just like it would for a dog.


The blue Fairest drew a knife and cut the leathery rope holding its harness to the cart. She then led the beastie back towards the caravan. "Hey?! Ya boys wanna another cart puller?!"