“Hoods up.” Jura said, and Tyr obeyed without question. She did the same, just in case. “You'll understand why, in a bit.” The sprawling city of Leygein loomed in the distance. There were scorch marks, shattered earth, and pitted craters decorating its walls. Some great battle had been fought here, but that wasn't so surprising. Men were laboring to haul replacement bricks under the watchful eyes of the mages seeing to the repair of the fortifications. More soldiers than before patrolled the outer reaches, and could be seen moving in orderly formations along the wall.

Beyond the city were various villas and periphery estates in a similar state of devastation. Some were destroyed, charred ruins – barely worthy of the term 'building' any longer. “Things are pretty bad in the republic, but it's getting better.” Jura said. “I'm sure you knew that.”

Tyr nodded. The countryside was chock with all sorts of trouble, and monsters were the least of it. Orcs were rising up all over the place to cause strife during the fall of what society was present in the central regions of the nation. Adventurers and deserters saw to the rest, taking advantage of the collapse to make what they could of their so-called opportunity. Roaming bandits and scoundrels robbing villages blind. He'd found a few of them, not many opting to take option-A until it was too late, but he'd given them a choice and that's all they could ask for. It was a stretch between the adventurer cities and the Lyran settlements that was always wild and untamed, only worse now. Monster population density was higher than ever and there were too many open contracts for the adventurers laboring to resolve them. Some didn't, they were afraid, hard times to cut the wheat from the chaff.

Weak men, lesser men.

It was worse in the western regions, or so they said. A small city depopulated over night by a sudden onset of plague, looted by more bandit adventurers. At least they'd gotten their due when the same citizens who'd lived there had risen in death and slaughtered them. Supposedly roaming about in herds of undead in their tens of thousands. Communications were unstable due to the wild atmospheric mana, and the Anu weren't helping. Looking after their own, with the boundaries of their reservations making travel even more difficult. Tyr had heard tales of refugees fleeing into their lands, never to be heard from again.

Passing through the gate was easy. Jura, in the wake of recent events, had been promoted to a silver rank adventurer, and Tyr still wore his golden badge. Angry looks came from the people waiting in the queue. More refugees or traders trying to profit off the panic before it ended, which they all expected it to. Any day now. Some of those nasty looks were pointedly focused only on Jura, as one of orcish blood she was used to those, especially here. People who said she had unclean blood and a monstrous heritage. That was until they saw the badges, splitting like the sea while the hooded form of Tyr marched right thought them, ignoring all. Some removed their hats and bowed. Others, the soldiers, clapped their boots together dramatically. At attention and saluting. Some even knelt to the dirt, parting and dropping to their knees in reverence.

Disgusting.

“White wolf...” Someone whispered.

“One eye...”

Tyr frowned hard, he'd been an idiot. What use was there in arriving hooded if he was followed by Okami the whole while? Of course they'd recognize them, some of them might even be from the villages that the pair had liberated. Leaving their homes for safer climes to wait out the trouble. Not much could convince them to leave, but crotchety old men became significantly less stubborn in the face of a monster devouring their neighbor.

Some reached out to let their hands brush against his cloak, surrounding him. It was claustrophobic, standing in the sea of outstretched hands and weepy eyes. But he could feel the love pouring out of them. The reverence, only inferior that which he'd felt people give his father on the rare occasion he walked among his subjects.

He... Tyr. Was primus, like a god to some of them. Perhaps his reputation had spread, his violence, the fact that some of them viewed him as a demon in human skin. But that was an immutable fact, he was something beyond them. A child of the gods.

Tyr was just about to swat those hands away from him in anger, before a small, stumpy form thudded into his leg. It was a child, a young girl by the looks of her, no older than three or four. She held his leg tight and he froze in place to avoid harming her. So small, underfed, with wide eyes staring up at him in abject joy. “Welcome home, big brother!”

He choked with a sudden burst of emotion, filled with something. He couldn't recognize it, mechanisms in him clicking and whirring until that small form before him was the center of his universe. A kind of love he couldn't explain, a change in his erupting from his deepest parts.

Tyr patted her head anxiously. He didn't like being here, but he would never mistreat so young a child. A man... A man had a code. But it was more than that.

“I'm sorry, little one.” Tyr removed his hood and bent down slowly. He gently picked her up to hold her in his arms, tousling her hair playfully and giving her a bright smile. She was so light, and he could feel brittle bones protruding from the rib cage beneath her summer tunic. It would've been hard to describe how much he hated the fact that she had suffered even in the slightest. So... Temporary, and yet he doubted he'd ever felt any being stronger than this. Like a god, or goddess as was the case. Leaving him in a state of confusion. “I didn't know I had a little sister all the way out here. Are you behaving?”

“Of course!” The girl chuckled gleefully. Villagers around him were no longer reaching out, some were weeping while others looked at him with... He didn't know. Warmheartedness, he'd guess, if that was even a word. Like an old woman watching the village children at play knowing that the future was secure with such energetic young ones making a mess of the place. Jura stared at him with wide eyes, unable to consolidate the Tyr of her heart and the man standing before her. He rarely smiled, and when he did it was predatory and dangerous. Even in better times, before their friends had died, he was akin to a living weapon. Singular, frigid, and hard. The man standing in front of her wasn't a grim warrior, nor a cold blooded hunter. He was warm and radiant and gallant, accepting the young girls embrace and treating her like she really was his kin.

With genuine love... This man. That man, who only ever softened at the eyes when it was with Jura, was treating a stranger the same way. Perhaps better.

As always, she couldn't make heads nor tails of who he was inside. It seemed natural, not an emulation of human emotion – it was so real. His beautiful face, warm and angelic instead of glaring and hard. If not for witnessing the way he had changed, fearing that he might end up killing one of these people for touching him, she wouldn't believe this was her Tyr. This was someone else, but she certainly didn't hate it.

Two of those commoners stepped through the crowd, red faced and shaking. Both were young, in their early twenties and by the looks of their nervous gazes they were the parents of this little girl. That was a reaction that fit, a natural one. Their eyes were wide and stricken with fear, unsure of whether they should approach the adventurer holding their daughter or not. Not fear that she might be injured, but rather that he might take offense. That would be bad. If that happened, they may not be allowed back into the city.

“Papa says that big brother Tyr watched us all the way out of the valley so that the monsters wouldn't get us. Is that true?”

Ah, these ones are from Atropos. A small town not so far southeast of Aurora in the highlands, situated in a valley near the Anu reservation in this state, the same one he'd visited in the past. He didn't remember the girl, nor the others. Rushing through it and ruthlessly culling the same werewolves he'd found in Aurora. Hunting them to a 'man', no bites or scratches on him this time. There were too many monsters for him to handle while simultaneously ensuring their safety, so he'd ordered them to evacuate. There was some resistance, but again with the 'monsters ate my neighbor' analogy. If they stayed longer, the beasts weren't their greatest worry. Red stone poisoning and plague were, healers and priests tended not to be about, given the danger, and the cancer would set into them soon enough.

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“I did.” Tyr nodded. “Did you behave for your parents on the journey?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed gleefully, she was a very 'touchy feely' little girl. Squeezing his neck and making him redden at the cheeks. She pointed then, asking why he hadn't visited, forgetting the question entirely as Jura sidled nervously up to Tyr. She didn't like this, after the initial enjoyment of observing Tyr, they were too exposed and there were people all around them. The little girl looked at her with a bright smile, not bitter and disillusioned enough in her young age to blame all her problems on demi-humans and their 'ilk'.

“Is this your girlfriend?” She said, giggling. “She is very pretty.”

“Why thank you, little one.” Jura curtsied, enough to make Tyr feel a little less anxious. It was funny, seeing her do that, and she wasn't half bad at it. “I am his lady wife, Jura of the Laughing Moon.”

“I never want to get married. One day I will be an adventurer like you.” The girl mused. “Why is your skin green? Are you sick?”

“Stella!” Her father choked, falling to a knee alongside his wife with a pleading stare. “Please, my lord. She is just young, she doesn't know any better – please forgive us!”

Tyr's gaze hardened, instantly returning to a semblance of normality. “I am not your lord.” He said, avoiding any pejorative language in the presence of the child. “This is your daughter?”

“Yes, my lord-- er... Yes, White Wolf!”

Good gods... Tyr didn't know what was worse, the groveling or the people staring at him with some kind of familiarity. As if they knew him, as if 'White Wolf' wasn't insanely derivative, some kind of edgy nickname to make his character seem more interesting. “She is hungry, a bag of bones. Why do you not feed her?”

“We...” The man paused, and his wife answered for him. She was strong, but women raised in the way of these villagers tended to be. More dominant than those in the city, with calloused hands and a rebellious streak to them. Given more face for their contribution to a community that needed all available hands to remain among the living.

“We've no food. We were poor to begin with, but this is no concern of yours, mister adventurer. They give hand outs in the city. We were out here to aid in the labor and have been paid for the day. I swear by all the gods we will see her well fed as we always do, if it please you.” She replied.

“It does please me.” Tyr looked away from them, forgetting they existed. Jura aided them to their feet, and while they were hesitant to accept her hand – they did not spit on her. That was a start, a nice change of pace and another benefit of walking with someone who was feared by so many. “What's your favorite meal for supper?” Tyr asked the girl.

“Hmm...” To her, this was a complex question. There were just so many choices. “Chicken nuggets!” She exclaimed gleefully.

“What the he--” Tyr cleared his throat. He'd ask what a chicken nugget was, but he supposed the name was self explanatory. It didn't sound very appetizing, but then again... “You seem to have good parents, huh?” She nodded eagerly at that, exclaiming her love for 'mama' and 'papa'. “You've a trade? Either of you?”

Jura was observing how every time his gaze left the eyes of the girl, he'd harden again. It was sweet, very cute, if not a bit psychotic. A visible mood swing that nobody but her seemed to notice. He went from happily chattering on with the little one before speaking in monotone at her parents, alternating freely between two wholly unique personalities. Not to her parents, at them.

“Aye, my lord.” The man grimaced as he wife pinched his side, realizing his mistake – but Tyr made no further comment on it. “My wife is a seamstress and a fine tailor too! She was the best in our little town!” He brightened, becoming energized when given the opportunity to loudly boast to all the others how impressive his wife was. She blushed, pinching him again, though her eyes were full of love. Tyr watched them, like ants under a magnifying glass, reading into every part of their body language. “And I, if it please you, am a blacksmith. Just an apprentice, mind you, shoeing horses and fixing plows and the like. Suppose you could say I was in charge for a bit, seeing as my master turned into a wolf and all...” He paused, scratching the back of his head, chuckling awkwardly.

“You work for me now.” Tyr said. “Both of you.” Leaving both open mouthed and aghast. The man tried to explain that competent tradesmen were all over the city and he was inferior to most of them. Still so young, it wasn't surprising. Insisting he hire his much more skilled wife instead, as she would be of some use. Irritatingly, they both said the exact same thing about the other – and he ignored all of it. These were good, honest people, and he didn't do it for them. He did it for himself, because seeing the little girl happy, safe, and well fed pleased him. Something about it felt symbolic. Like a giant finger pointed up at the gods that had ignored him in the past, even if in a different context.

“It was not an offer.” He frowned, pushing a small pouch into the mans hands. “It was a command. You will work for me, and you will await my arrival to the steps of the Hunter's guild. All day if you have to, while ensuring you visit the eatery across the way and feed your daughter until she's had her fill. Am I understood?”

Something different again, Tyr was all cold violence, like always – something Jura was used to. But the authority in his voice was something else. Tyr didn't give orders, he didn't swing his authority around ever, because he claimed to hate that sort of thing. But here... She doubted even one so rebellious as she could turn away a voice like that offhand.

“Er... Yes sir.” The man blushed, sweat beading on his forehead. Both of them had just fallen into a job opportunity out of the blue, not sure what to think about it. Other commoners were loudly congratulating them, though some were clearly sarcastic and bitter, only obeying custom. They were all poor and starving, seeing one of their own risen up wouldn't change that.

Any who were two sarcastic found themselves on the receiving end of a withering glare, feeling like their blood might freeze at any moment. Tyr was at the end of his rope given the situation, his head was starting to hurt.

“White Wolf!” A significantly better dressed soldier joined his men in the uncomfortable looking salute they'd held throughout all of it. Based on his armor, he was a knight – though he belonged to no specific order by the looks of it, a senate man. “It is a great honor to receive you. Please allow us to escort you directly to the--”

“I won't.”

“Apologies, sir. But... You won't?” The knight looked conflicted. He was young, too, but at least he had some backbone. Orders, probably. Things he was about to wax on about at length until Tyr relented, or bashed his skull in. Based on his current mood, he'd wager the latter would be much more interesting.

“I'm sure you want to bring me somewhere to discuss events with someone, but my duty is to report to my guild first and any authorities second. Thus, you won't, and you would be wise not to push the issue with me. I'll be about my business and I'll find you when I'm well and ready. In the meantime, I need a favor.”

There wasn't much to be done, nor argue about. Adventurers held a high degree of authority in the nation and there was no senator alive that superseded the authority of the guilds. The leadership of which occupied a council that if rumor was true, were also the only individuals capable of directly contacting Alexandros himself. “If it is within my power, I'll do it.” The knight nodded. Truth be told, he didn't much care for the senate either. A bunch of sniveling rats and bureaucrats who spent all day inventing ways to make themselves look important, but it was better than living under tyranny. Or so they said...

“Then do this.” Tyr handed him a significantly heavier pouch. More of a satchel really, and the weight was enough to cause the knight to redden and grunt. “There are three hundred and eight two adults in this queue. I've given you the exact same number in Harani sovereigns.” It seemed fated. That was the exact amount of his homelands currency that he still possessed on his person without visiting a bank. Ironic, or coincidental, the definition was blurred to him. “You'll hand each and every one of these refugee laborers a gold coin as they are admitted into the city. If even one of these people enters without a coin in hand, I will kill you all. You, the unit in the gatehouse, and the two men who are skulking in the shadows and watching me as if I could not smell them. Be wise.”

He could feel the adventurers in the shadows serving as watchers shiver in fright, sinking deeper into the shadows with their magic cloaks until briskly retreating into the interior of the gatehouse. Sent here to watch Tyr and observe his actions, there was no point in staying once their presence was divined, however he'd done it.

The knight seemed confused, watching the two figures materialize out of the darkness. He'd never known they were there, and now Tyr knew that he hadn't. “But this... With due respect, this is--”

“I get it.” Tyr waved his concerns away, dropping another pouch on top of the first. “I'm not sure how much is in there, but you can split it among yourselves since I'm making you do this. I'll be going now.” He and the orcish woman walked straight through the checkpoint without identifying themselves, and nobody stopped them.

He gulped down at the bag, holding it cautiously in his arms. It was so much money, more than he'd ever make in a lifetime. Enough to buy a manor and live for the rest of his days like a prince, ensuring that his sons and their sons beyond would never go hungry. The salary of a Lyran knight was impressive, but it wasn't anything like this. With a pension, it was more than most people could hope for. Leaving him with a host of worries as well, the prime of which is that with all this money in the hands of the common folk... Nobody would need to work...