“I have one question.” Ino huffed out from his spot at the back of the group as they were half way to Abrakshana. The boy had little to no Endurance, which was impressive simply due to how hard it was to achieve a low level of it. You got it for simply doing normal human things up until the double-digits. Like walking, and breathing.

Honestly even in his last world Lock had seen overweight chain-smokers manage a four hour hike up a mountain, all while sweating less than Ino was sweating now. Maybe it was time to include him in his morning training routine. Also, now that he thought about it, after Kamin finished with their current training of 'dodge the stick', it would be better for her to continue doing physical things. Simply for the health benefits. They were still at a stage where they could improve their physical stats easily, unlike him, who’d been training long enough to begin reaching the limits of the human potential.

“What's your question?” Harald eventually asked, taking upon him the duty to answer since Lock seemed indisposed in his own mind.

“Why are we walking towards the potentially burning city?” Ino asked gratefully, while jealously eyeing his sister before looking away with a blush on his face when he noticed Lock looking at him.

“The city isn't on fire, the cloud is too small for that.” Lock said. “If anything it's a small part of it that burnt down, discounting the possibility that they're simply burning something in front of the gates. To be fair however, I would normally approach much more cautiously just to scout out the situation. However we now have an old man to throw at any problem that we encounter so I'm feeling a bit fool-hardy.” Lock finished, the ring on his finger vibrating.

“I guess.” Ino groaned.

Feeling quite fed up with the boy's poor stamina and his own worsening mood Lock walked over to Lemmings and unceremoniously ripped Kamin out of the golem's arms. Gently of course. Pulling her close as if she were a baby, gripping her legs and letting her head rest on his shoulder, he turned to Ino. “Lemmings, grab Ino and carry him.” He intoned clearly, and got a first-row seat to Ino's face blanching and him starting to back-off. To where, Lock did not know. It didn't end up mattering however, Lemmings simply strode forward, grabbed the boy by the torso, and pressed him into his chest. Then he turned around and started walking towards the city.

Ino tried to say something, but his words were garbled by the close proximity his mouth had to the golem's chest. It sounded a bit like, “-lp m-”.

It was a fitting demand, and Lock was willing to oblige. He would be helping Ino a lot by having Lemmings carry him. The moment would provide enough embarrassment to motivate the boy into beginning an exercise routine.

It was hard being a good man sometimes, but Lock was willing to take up the burden.

-/-

It didn't take them long after to reach the city and see which part of it was on fire, or had been on fire. The smoke had been lessening over the past few minutes.

“Slums.” Harald grunted out, looking over the town of tents in front of the capital city, to where the small amount of fires left were still leaving a reflection on the sparse few clouds above.

He seemed like he wanted to start running in. An understandable wish considering that his own family lived near the area that had probably been burned down, if the intensity of the smoke was any indication. However he seemed enough in control of himself to remain here, likely knowing that he would have more luck finding his family in the city of tents that had been erected for the refugees of the fire, than he was to find them in the burning remains of the district.

“There should be a list hanging somewhere in the tent city, with the names of everyone who is still missing on it. It's standard practice for situations like this. If they're not on it, then start looking for your family in their home, their relatives, or in the tents.” Lock said to Harald, who nodded in gratitude before grimacing.

“I can't read.” he admitted, at which Lock simply nodded and commanded Lemmings to release Ino.

“Go with him.” He said to the wizard, who nodded, too busy taking in the situation to be affronted by how he'd been treated.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Where do we meet up afterwards?” Ino asked, at which Lock told him the address of his father. The Trydan's likely knew that part anyway, they'd investigated him before presenting the betrothal contract.

Watching them leave Lock turned to the girl in his arms, who seemed slightly frightened by everything going on around her. At least she wasn't asking many questions. “I'll give you too Lemmings.” He told her, at which she whispered, “yes”, into his chest. Handing her over he turned to the tent city, and really took it all in.

His job would be to find out exactly what had happened and to decide what to do with the information.

First of all, the tents were uniform, which was considerably odd since usually people couldn't foresee fires such as this, and therefore couldn't prepare. The tents were also in good shape, very good shape. Finding the emblem, which was very unobtrusive, explained where they came from at least. The crest of the royal family. Two dragons intertwining and breathing fire to spell out the letter M. Followed by a smaller embossing of two crossed spears. The sigil of the army. These were military tents, likely requisitioned from the base which had been created near the city so as to start training up a proper invasion force.

Now that he'd noticed the first detail others started springing into his vision as he walked through the miserable shithole. There were a lot of soldiers running around, dressed in their stupid red caps, and leather-boiled armour. They didn't seem to be carrying the standard-issue halberds however, which was weird. He was getting an odd feeling from their entire countenance to be honest.

He realized the reason for that once he walked by one of the soldiers talking in a loud voice to a young man sitting on the ground, eating a bowl of some brown slop. He was saying something about the glory of humanity, the royal family, a barracks to live in, and three meals a day. The eyes of the likely dispossessed young man glimmered at the last two promises.

These weren't soldiers, these were recruiters. They acted too enthusiastic, they were too clean, too well-spoken and too methodical in their approach to be anything but. Lock found himself sneering as he watched another young man sitting alone being approached by an eager-eyed propagandist.

Deciding that he might as well combine his scouting with some good deeds Lock approached the soldier and cut of his route towards the young man. The slightly overweight man seemed offended by the action. Well, until he took in Lock's appearance. Seeming impressed. His eyes began shining and his jowls quivered. He was about to open his mouth to start on the probably drilled in tirade before Lock interrupted him.

“I've been away for a while, imagine my surprise when I came back to find a fifth of the city burned down. What happened?” Lock brusquely asked. For which the recruiter seemed, almost, grateful? He was likely sick of his own speech by now.

“Blasted elf's what happened. The tree fucker teleported on top of the city in a bright flash of light before falling into the slums screaming something elfish. That's when he exploded in a gigantic fireball. Cursed flames, no mage could put them out until his majesty himself came down and completed a ritual which turned them normal. That's when the other mages started having an effect.” The recruiter explained with a scowl on his face. “Naturally we can't have those buggers attacking our beautiful kingdom and inconveniencing our king without some push-back so we're gathering up some lads to smack em around real fierce. You interested?” He asked with a hopeful look to his eyes. There was likely a commission on every person you successfully recruited.

“Why would an elf suicide-bomb us? Don't they have infinite lifespans?” Lock asked, putting on a perplexed tone of voice.

The recruiter waved him off. “Nah, they just live long, but when they get really old, or when they know they'll die, they try and make their death matter.” He explained wisely while nodding his head like a bobble-toy.

Lock had never heard of such a practice, by elves of all races as well. “Why the slums, wouldn't the palace or the noble quarters been a much nicer target?” He asked, causing the recruiter to shrug.

“Elves are too stupid to make houses, living in their trees all the time, they probably have no idea on how to aim or on how to tell quarters apart.” He said before changing the topic. “So about that army thing? Name's Horace by the way.” He asked and stated.

Lock extended a hand and shook the man's head, making sure to prick him a bit with the gauntlets. The man barely winced, which was impressive. Maybe he was just fat though. “Well met Horace, my name's Morris. I need to speak with my family first, but afterwards I'll likely join up, I'll remember to mention your name.”

Horace took his agreement as an opportunity to jauntily clap him on his right shoulder, smiling all the while. “Good man.” He said, before turning around and beginning to survey the area, likely looking for his next victim. “Duty calls however, king's blessings with you.” He finished.

Lock nodded and started walking again, trying not to think on what he'd been told. It would be wise to gather more information first. From different sources preferably, before he tried to understand what happened.

“You really want to join the army?” Kamin suddenly asked from where Lemmings was carrying her several feet behind him.

Lock scoffed. “Of course not. I didn't even give him my real name.” He said.

“Oh. Why lie?” She asked.

“Convenience, to get him off my back, to have a name I can mention if I ever need to do something in the army camp.” Lock rattled of the three reasons he could think of off the top of his head.

“You're smart.” Kamin commented, before falling silent and burying her face in Lemming's chest. She was likely tired from the exciting day. It wasn't even evening though, so he found it a bit odd. It wasn't like she had walked here.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked with some concern.

“This place is new. Lots of impressions. My head hurts a bit.” She admitted meekly, at which Lock looked around the chaotic mass of humanity they'd found themselves in. He sniffed. Ashes, burned wood, and pork. The miserable atmosphere probably wasn’t helping matters.

“Turn off the skill if it gets too much.” Lock told his fiancée.

“Ok.” She answered, and yawned before metaphorically closing her eyes and beginning to try to fall asleep.

Lock was, sort of jealous, but mostly because he didn't want to do the task ahead of him. Information gathering had always been one of the more annoying aspects of good-decision making. Mostly because there were always so many conflicting points of interest involved.

Looking into the writhing mass of refugees, interspersed with the occasional recruiter or volunteer, Lock sighed. “Better get to work I guess.”