“It’s worse than I could have imagined.”

The party joined the line of desperate folks, some were heretical races and would be terrified of finding themselves at the end of Empire justice if that still existed in Elsbury. The sounds of children's wails filled the air, beggars lay by the queue with hands out and no doubt thieves were stalking, looking to take advantage. Excluding Kaleb’s physical presence, the smelly, dirty well-worn group looked ripe for the picking. Their stench would be masked by the repugnant odour of the air; people were relieving themselves by the side of the queue and piles of buzzing filth had begun to mound.

“Excuse me,” Iridia tapped a man on the back who was ahead of them in the queue.

“Yes?” The older man grumbled as he turned to face her.

“How long is the wait?”

He laughed and shook his head, “I doubt I’ll get in before I die…”

“Why are you waiting then?”

“My property is inside, I have enough food for a few days but I don’t know if it’ll last.”

Iridia nodded and shot Kaleb an upward glance. “We can’t wait here for days, master.”

“We can’t sneak in either, look at us, we should use your writ.” Flencer nodded.

Kaleb folded his arms and rocked on his feet, “I feel once our presence is known, we’d struggle getting out of this part, but we cannot wait so long, let’s go up front, see what they are saying.”

Morgan handed Kaleb the blood-stained and torn writ, the flimsy paper hung onto the words that were scrolled over it enough to ensure they were legible. They made for walking along the line of people, they couldn’t help but scour over the devastating scene.

“Ah, shit!”

“What is it, Flencer?”

“I stood in shit…”

“Be careful, clumsy Dwarf.”

Vince kept his head down and his hood up as he followed beside the cart.

They were promptly stopped by a group of Imperial soldiers who were manning a small hut a quarter of the way towards the main gate. “Don’t know what you lot reckons ye be up to, but no pushing in, alright? Get back to the bloody start.”

Kaleb ruffled the paper, “I am a Paladin, I need entry immediately.”

The soldier took the paper and screwed his nose up in concentration, trying to read the words on the stained paper, “Paladin, Kaleb of Zole?” he scratched his head, “Ain’t never heard of that.”

“Zale, house of Zale.”

“Right, what they all about then, eh?”

Kaleb rolled his eyes, “I am a justiciar.”

“What’s that then?”

“Break the laws of the Emperor and you may find out.”

The soldier's eyes widen, “Well I’m a soldier so I don’t—”

“You don’t what?” Kaleb’s eyes flashed. “The writ is good, do you have further questions?”

He looked behind Kaleb at his odd party of misfits and nodded, “Look you can go ahead, but eh, you better have a better story if you wanna get in, They ain’t letting anyone in without good cause, eh.”

Kaleb took his writ back and walked by the post of Imperials who stood at attention until they had passed. Up ahead a couple of the soldiers were dishing out a particular egregious beating, most likely in a cynical manner to relieve frustrations. Kaleb approached. “A harsh beating there, he must have done something awful.”

“He threw shit at me!”

Kaleb raised his eyebrow.

“Well, sometimes you ask for a good hiding, hm?” Flencer shook his head.

Iridia and Morgan followed behind, taking in the scenes of despair. “Do you think they’ll let us in?” said Iridia.

“I don’t know, it’s rather tense isn’t it?”

“Too tense.”

Wild dogs moved about in packs between the small shanties that had formed, groups of citizens who had decided that queuing was a pointless waste of time. They crossed the threshold into the shadow of the gate, a welcome relief from the beating sun. The people looked more forlorn as they’d been queuing for a considerably longer time, once every ten minutes the line would shuffle forward.

The party met the next stop, they were less invasive and more concerned with quieting the rabble, The soldier glanced at the writ and waved them along, telling them to keep their noses clean. Kaleb was not used to his subordinates being so flagrant with their commands, he expected nothing but respect from mere privates. Forgiveness for them flared in his heart, they had been standing a long time dealing with angry mobs, It made sense they had given up on pleasantries and formalities, the order was crumbling and the first piece to go was always etiquette.

“I have seen this before.” Zale hummed beside Kaleb’s ear.

“Queues?”

“Well, of course, I’ve seen a queue before, I mean I have seen this behaviour, this collapse of regula.”

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“What happened?” Kaleb might look mad talking to his hammer, it wasn’t a common sight.

“We had a small war with the Orcs of Uvelay, They said it’d be nought but a skirmish, mop up job they said.”

“Hm, I haven’t heard of it.”

“Well, they didn’t record much, the Orcs were rather resourceful…and cynical in their approach.”

“Orcs…”

“Indeed, they poisoned the wells and blighted the rivers, hurt themselves as much, the Imperials stationed there dispersed and lost control for two months, they recognised no one but themselves, and took coin from whatever hand weighed the most.”

“How was it solved?”

“A lot of bloodshed, many deserters.”

“All the more reason to make our visit here brisk.”

As they approached the main gate the grumbles and rabbling crowds grew more impatient. Arguments, fights, beatings and miniature rebellions bubbled up and were quelled. The soldiers did not bother them as they came closer to the processing house outside the only available entry. When someone left, a new person could enter, however, that occurrence was becoming rarer, and the queue hadn’t budged in nearly fifteen minutes.

“Oi! Why are you going ahead of us!” Someone from the queue came stepped out of line and thrust his finger at Iridia who was closest.

A soldier stepped forward, “Get back in line or you’ll lose your place!”

“What’s it worth? These lines cutters ‘ere taking our place, ones a bloody Dwarf!”

Flencer huffed, “No love anywhere I go.”

Behind them came a cry of pain that became a low gurgle. Profanities ensued along with a roar of many people. Iridia could see that an imperial soldier had taken considerable measures to handle a rowdier citizen, the soldier's hands were covered in blood and his blade was marked with death.

“Kaleb, I think things are getting out of hand here.”

“Agreed, Morgan, Vince, Flencer, come behind me and Iridia, walk forward do not speak to anyone.”

They took up the formation and moved behind the line of soldiers which had formed, weapons and shields drawn. The crowd started tossing rocks, shouting at the imperials and the line cutters. A rock struck Iridia on the temple and she stumbled back, holding her shield up. They continued to chant murderer and line cutter, the rocks came down like hail. Kaleb was struck many times but would heal quickly like Iridia, though it was more than irritating. Morgan, Flencer and Vince were not so blessed and had to keep cover. Vince was struck with a rock and collapsed.

“Get him in the cart!”

Iridia stood before them and raised her shield, deflecting rocks and trying to keep them safe, Kaleb did the say but with his body and a hand held in front of his eyes. Vince mumbled incoherently and blood ran down his face. The crowd had converged around them somewhat, only a thin line of imperial soldiers—who had no true incentive to defend them—between them and a mob of bloodthirsty citizens who had lost all hope.

“Move, move, move!” Kaleb glanced back only a moment, As he turned to look ahead he was met with a wooden plank to the face. A peasant had given him a clout with all his force, breaking his nose and sending a wave of pain up through his sinuses. “Ah!”

Iridia stepped forward and struck the man with her shield, She raised her spear to finish him off but Kaleb grabbed it. “Do not kill anyone, keep Morgan and Flencer safe.”

She nodded and stepped back behind him, The peasant was dragged away by the imperium and would be issued a beating if there was anyone left to dish it out.

Blood began to spill as the crowd were emboldened by the success of the man who broke the line, they charged into the soldiers who were knocked back by the weight. More soldiers had sallied out to bolster the failing line. To the horror of Kaleb and his party, killing blows were delivered. With many cries of agony and gnashing of teeth, the brawl became a slaughter, soldiers lost their weapons and the citizens took them up, dealing out death in return.

Soldiers retreated into the gatehouse, leaving the fleeing party at risk. “Take them to the gatehouse, Iridia, run and do not stop.”

She nodded, gripped by the moment and waved them on.

Kaleb stood behind and used his weight to push multiple citizens down who closed in on him, they stabbed, clawed and bludgeoned at him in mass, surrounding and jumping onto his back. Kaleb spun round and flung one of them, shoving another to the ground and picking another up to throw him at the crowd like a siege weapon.

Guards were rallied by Kaleb’s performance and quickly attended his sides, pushing back with them and helping him to retreat.

A great horn bellowed a long ominous call, it carried with it despair and then a chaotic panic. The men surrounding Kaleb backed off and started to run in all directions, the queue broke up and started to back away. Some stayed and held open their arms, crying and wailing.

Kaleb looked back and saw his party enter the gatehouse, but was frozen in spot as he watched with dark curiosity. The horn was the harbinger of death. Hundreds of small shuttered windows flung open along the wall, crossbows reared the tips of their bolts and a storm peppered the crowd, Many fell in pain, some not killed outright, they rolled about in the filth and torn up earth. Another volley laced the crowd. The horn rang again and the shutters closed, concluding the sardonic clearance of human backlog awaiting entry to the damned Farlow Port.

Iridia ensured the door was held open for Kaleb, and he joined them in the gatehouse, Soldiers were roiling in pain, it was crowded and filled with grunts and profanities, A commander was ordering soldiers back out into the fray, and they were pushed out passed Kaleb. He watched from the doorway, order was reclaimed amongst the grim scenes. Calls to pile up the bodies and instructions were given to the confused survivors, the queue reformed and the noise settled but for the sorrowful cries of the injured and heartbroken.

The gatehouse was palatial, with tiled floors, wall fountains and a central desk, it wasn’t military but more of a governmental processing house, the wealth of Farlow Port poured through the seams of the walls and would be enticing to incoming merchants and businessmen, beauty meant wealth and wealth meant profit.

“You, you’re the cause of all this, you better have a good reason for cutting this line!” The commander bellowed from behind the curved desk at Iridia who was still in shock at what she just saw.

Kaleb waded in front and pushed aside a few soldiers who were looking up at him, he placed his hands on the desk. “I seek entry to Port Farlow, I have a writ, I think it would be in all our interests to make this transaction smooth and quick.”

The commander raised his eyebrow, “A Paladin, ain’t no calls for any Paladin’s round ‘ere pal.”

“I am not your, ‘pal’ and you will address me properly.”

Iridia covered her mouth and shook her head, she felt Kaleb’s zeal may not win them any favours. She butted in, “We did help maintain the order, Kaleb saved many of your men.”

The commander grunted, “I’m speaking the grown, little girl.” He shooed her with his hand.

“Excuse me! I am—”

Morgan pulled her back, “Leave him to Kaleb.”

Her shield chuckled, “He sees right through you, like me.”

Kaleb freed his tattered writ and slapped it on the desk, process me in and let me through.

The commander smirked, “Say please, Paladin.”