At first Luke thought a person had just teleported before them. From his posture, the newcomer was a threat. Armor with runes carved into it covered his body and gauntlets with foot long blades attached to the wrists were covering his hands. His stance was the complete opposite of the guard’s - shoulders back and chin up, this man was a commander.
The reason why Luke relaxed was that the man was made out of mist. It might even be more accurate to say that it was nothing more than an image projected into the mist. Body language, sound, and even some of the lighting from where the image was being projected was visible.
“What is the situation, Prasad?” The ghost looked around, “Is the rest of your squad compromised?”
Prasad blushed and rubbed his neck, “No fighting has occurred, though my squad is indisposed at the moment.”
Luke was now very much confused. How could someone remove a whole squad? With the advantage of a fort and the rapid communication displayed, it would need to be an inside job. Luke took a step to the side and peered around Prasad and through the fort’s open door. A mug lay on its side below a table. A table that had four similar mugs on it. Luke frowned, did they have a party and need to sleep off a hangover?
“Is there a threat?” The ghost asked, disappointment creeping into his voice.
“No, sir, just some refugees,” Prasad said. The boy was trembling so badly, that it sounded like someone was shaking him while he spoke, “They want passage into the silent nation.”
The ghost glared into the fort, seeing the same situation Luke had, “Your captain would have known what to do, a replacement will be sent immediately.”
Luke folded his arms and cleared his throat, watching the drama was great and all, but the winter mist was cold, “If you two could focus on matters at hand, I have fifteen families with children behind me, do you have a place for me to dump them?”
Eve glared at Luke for his choice of words. He didn’t care, he wanted them gone so he could do his own thing. The issue was, he didn’t really know what his thing was yet.
“No, it is commonly disseminated knowledge that the Silent Nation only takes guests by invitation of a council member,” The ghost examined them, “Am I right to assume you lack the appropriate paperwork? Do any of you have a sound kern?”
Luke thought about lying for a moment, but he suspected they both had a sound kern. He would be able to identify the falsehood immediately. So Luke shook his head.
“Then I would ask you to leave and go back to wherever you are from,” The ghost made a shooing motion.
“Please, there are children here, it's winter, at least let us shelter until spring,” Eve begged.
The ghost had a conflicted look cross his face, “I’m sorry, these rules are here for a reason. Now go.”
Luke had a different idea, he walked up and poked the ghost. His finger sank into the insubstantial projection, “Can you part with supplies?”
The ghost shook his head, “No, I am not actually here as you just confirmed, I cannot move the wagons and supplies you would need in time, even if I wanted to.”
Luke smiled, “How about we make a deal then.”
He had an idea and it was an activity that he very much enjoyed. Being a public menace, and best of all the ghost had to accept.
The ghost eyed Luke warily, “I can not make binding agreements with outsiders.”
“That's fine, we need supplies and you need to discipline some soldiers. I am going to empty out your forts storehouses, and as you mentioned you’re too far away to stop me. This will either be a border raid that kills a man who is honor bound to resist or disciplinary action that scares the hell out of four, either way, I’m looting that fort,” Luke said.
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Surprisingly the ghost did not seem angry, he turned to Prasad, “Lock the munitions vault and leave with the key and any supplies you need for a week in the woods. I am dispatching a Classical Bard to your location.”
From how Prasad’s face paled, Luke assumed his definition of a bard was very different from the Silent Nation’s definition. Thinking logically, it made a certain amount of sense that those with sound essence would have potent abilities related to noise. No one talked more than a bard, well Olaf talked more, but he was an exception.
“I assume that your crew is mostly made of tier three and fours?” The ghost said, “Otherwise those four might actually beat you.”
This time Luke decided to lie, no one could confirm or deny it. The good guess of the warrior’s tiers let him know that a tier three was strong anywhere. It was likely that the Caldera’s averages matched the whole world’s averages. He now wanted to see how common stronger people were.
“I’m tier six, it won’t be an issue,” Luke waved a hand dismissively, “We should be able to rough them up without hurting them.”
“Very well, I only ask that you leave the vault alone and destroy any alcohol and luxury goods within. Including any firewood, they can spend a week in the cold,” the ghost folded his arms, “This does not make you an ally of the Silent Nation and will be considered a negative interaction on your reputation with us. Again do not touch the vault, if you do the Classical Bard will be tasked with hunting your entire group down.”
That gave Luke quite a bit of information. Maybe tier six was impressive everywhere, but it was not to this man, meaning he was probably at or above that tier. Also, he was confident of sending something or someone capable of killing a hero and his team to staff a border fort. This nation would not be one to antagonize under any circumstances. No wonder their scouts were repelled.
Luke waved his hand dismissively, “We need food and clothes, I’m not sure what we could even do with explosives.”
The ghost nodded before dispersing. Luke wondered how the penalty to reputation could affect him when the only way he would get invited in was by the ghost’s superiors. They waited about ten minutes for Prasad to collect his things and leave. The sleeping soldiers would probably assume that he had gotten killed by Luke. That did not matter to him.
“What are you going to do?” Eve asked, “You can’t hurt them, I don’t want to get hunted down by some demon musician because you have no sense of control.”
“Please,” Luke waved off her concern, “I’m great at keeping my victims, uh students alive.”
“Your only student died multiple times,” Eve hissed.
“And none of them were my fault,” Luke threw over his shoulder as he walked in and kicked the first sleeping man across the room, “Rise and shine! It's a great time to get robbed!”
The man came to a stop, he groaned and made a blowing motion towards his shoulder. He was not wearing his armor, when he realized this his eyes widened. Luke grabbed the man by his hair and dragged him back to his feet, then punched him into the wall. Now that he was inside the room he examined it.
Everything was designed more for comfort than defense upon first inspection. A couch held two unconscious people, the table was covered in a sticky liquid and the final soldier was curled up before a smoldering fire pit. Everything was made of stone, so Luke was not concerned when he lit the stack of wood beside the fireplace on fire.
No one stirred, except for the man groaning as he curled around a broken nose. Luke grumbled, “Are you people for real?”
He grabbed a piece of burning wood and tossed it onto the couch and another on the table. That lit a fire under their butts, literally. Both men jumped to their feet cursing and trying not to get burned. Luke grabbed the man on the floor by a leg and arm, then hurled him into the two who had just risen. They fell back onto the burning couch and started yelling.
That finally woke the one curled up before the fireplace. He scrambled to his feet, staggered, and slurred out, “What, what are you doing?”
“That’s better, I’m taking your junk,” Luke dragged the man towards him and placed the blade of Hestia’s Sickle around the man’s throat. A sickle was more terrifying than most other weapons, as when it was held to one's throat. It wrapped around like a metal noose and that was unsettling, even if it was no more lethal than the standard straight weapons.
The soldier’s eyes widened, “You won’t get away with this.”
“Oh, I know, that boy you had for a doorman called for help. So let’s make this fast,” Luke turned the man around and held the crescent blade of the sickle so the point rested under the soldier's chin. That allowed Luke to stand just behind the man, “Lead me to your supplies, booze, food, weapons. I want it all.”
The soldier gulped, and tentatively led Luke down the steps. In the basement he found stacks of bread, a keg of beer, a jar of honey, and other supplies he would need a woman to help identify. Was it safe to bring Grace in here? Luke glanced at the soldier, well it should be when they were out cold.
“Now for the other supplies,” Luke prodded.
The man was almost in tears, but he still had the gumption to yell “I need help!”
He kept moving so Luke did not reprimand him. A scuffle from upstairs told him that the other warriors were subduing the crispy soldiers. There was a second room with gambesons and surprisingly some mythical beast uniforms. They probably could not take the Silent Nation’s livery and avoid being chased down. Well, they would take the cloth armor and steel weapons.
“Thank you for your service,” Luke smiled. Then he dragged the tier three soldier back to the pantry and smashed his face into the beer keg until it broke. Luckily the man’s face proved to be sturdier, barely.