“An understatement,” the tired-looking Commander replied. “Also complete and utter bullshit. Did you notice how he left off a specific timeframe?”

I nodded. “I thought maybe he just didn’t know how long it would take for your men to arrive.”

The man gave a half-hearted smile, more emotion than he had shown other than looking tired. “A man of Lord Durbin’s position could have easily figured out how long it should take. No, this was a calculated choice on his part. No matter how hard we would push to get there, he can say we did not follow his orders. A tasteless trick by nobles but effective.”

“So, he wants to get you under his thumb, and have legal recourse to take everything from you?”

“Potentially. He would likely execute the lot of us instead of keeping us around.”

“You really think he would go that far?” Martin asked.

“Why wouldn’t he? As far as the Asharon Kingdom is concerned, he is in charge over here.”

“Why not contact your king then,” Martin inquired.

The Commander chuckled mithlessly. “You think, I’m on a first-name basis with the King? I may be a Royal Guard but that doesn’t give me any standing over a Lord. Even if I somehow did get ahold of the King, who would he believe? Or rather, who would he be forced to believe?”

Martin thought it over before deflating, “the Lord.”

The Commander nodded.

“So what are you going to do?” Fiona asked.

The Commander shrugged. “What can I do. I have to notify the rest of the garrison, some of the surviving men are nobles. They must choose for themselves. As for me… I’m staying right here. If Lord Durbin wants to send contractors after me, then so be it. I will die as a loyal follower of the King, not as a puppet to some upstart Lord.”

“Seems like a stupid choice,” I stated.

The man’s eyes blazed in anger, “perhaps to someone who has never had to fight for something he cared about, it would seem foolish. I wouldn’t expect a lowly drifter like yourself to understand.”

I wanted to reply with a biting comment, but Martin gave me a look that said, not now. I held my tongue and let the Commander’s words roll off me.

“Perhaps we can help with your situation, Commander,” Martin said.

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“While my friends had their reasons to come here, so do I. While I can’t help you with the Lord, I can help with the locals. I propose to help join your forces with the forces of the remaining townsfolk. A unified city will be much harder of a target, don’t you think?”

“Oh, and you think you will have more luck than we have, despite our numerous attempts over the last eight months?”

“Sometimes all it takes is a neutral party.”

“Very well, I will attend this meeting… assuming you can even make it happen.”

“Thank you, Commander, that’s all I ask.”

“If that is all, this meeting is done. Fiona, I am glad you are… ok. Your father would have been devastated to hear about your death.”

With that, the Commander got up and walked out of the room.

“Well, it went better than I expected,” I said right before Fiona punched me in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Stop being an ass,” she replied angrily as she too got up and left.

That’s when I recalled how she idolized the Commander.

Martin watched her go before turning to me. “Well, we have a lot of work ahead of us and little time. Should we grab Ska and see what we can learn about the other side?”

“Might as well, just don’t punch me too.”

Martin chuckled, “I’ll leave that job to Fiona, she has more strength anyway.”

I gave the man a sour look that only elicited more laughter as we left the room together.

***

After discussing our plans with Frathsar and Ska, we decided to leave Ska behind. He wanted to hunt some more and the locals were jumpy enough as it was without bringing an offworlder, especially a non-human one, to our meeting. Fiona would stick with him to keep him out of too much trouble, not that I expected anything in the area to trouble Ska, but better safe than sorry.

We headed out after the Commander gave us a crude map of the other locals' base of operations.

I took the opportunity to ask a question that had slipped my mind during the meeting.

“Have any escaped slaves made it here?”

“Slaves?” The Commander asked.

“Yeah, especially ones with slave collars around their necks.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“We haven’t seen any slaves. There was a group of natives that arrived shortly after you departed but they joined up with the townsfolk. Perhaps the slaves did the same.”

I nodded. It was a possibility, although remote. The slaves would have had to approach from the southern end of town. Meaning crossing through the territory of the Royal Guard. That group I freed didn’t strike me as a particularly stealthy bunch. That left a few options. Either the Commander was right and they joined with the locals, they died during their trip, or they were recaptured by the Black Dragon.

I hoped they had survived. They were unique as far as humans went. I hadn’t encountered another human that was able to choose their race. The system being damaged and preventing that choice for me. It also made me realize I had never really asked anyone else about it. I would pick Martin’s mind later, right now we had other things going on.

The piled debris that blocked off streets was impressive if a bit haphazard. A tangled mess of vehicles, furniture, along with loose rocks and bricks made up the majority of the pile we were staring at.

It stood nearly twenty feet high, a monument to mankind's triumph over garbage. I shook my head. A single earth mage would have been able to produce more effective barriers. It took Martin and me less than two minutes to climb the pile and land back on the street at the far side. The fact that ten angry men appeared out of nearby buildings to surround us didn’t even surprise me.

Of course, they would have to keep the piles guarded, as shoddy as they were.

“Whoa, easy there, fella’s,” Martin said, raising his hands.

He saw that I was not following along so kicked me in the shin.

I grunted but raised my hands as well.

“Who are you and why are you here?”

“Yeah, we don’t want no outworlders, take your fancy shit and go.”

“Outworlders?” Martin scoffed, “I’ll have you know I was born and raised in Mississippi and my friend here is as local as you can get,”

I saw Martin gesture with his hand in my direction.

“He does have that stupid southern accent,” a third man added.

I saw Martin bristle at those words, but the other men didn’t seem to notice.

“You didn’t answer our first question,” the original speaker asked, aiming a spear toward us that glowed with a silver light.

“My name is Martin, and my Friend here is Paul. We came to try and help.”

“Help? Help, how?”

“Well, we would like to discuss that with your leadership, if possible. But generally speaking, to help make it safer for everyone in town.”

“Bruce, let's just get rid of them, they sound like spies or some shit,” the third man that from now on I would refer to as the idiot said.

Bruce slapped the idiot upside the head.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Greg.”

The idiot, formerly known as Greg, rubbed his head as he stepped off to the side.

This was Martin’s show, but I was curious as to what we were dealing with, so I used Identify on the leader.

Bruce | Spartan | Level 12

I chuckled when I pictured the slender man among one of the Spartans from that movie.

“What are you laughing at!” Bruce demanded, aiming the spear my way.

“Nothing, I just thought of something funny.”

The man didn’t look mollified but I didn’t particularly care. He was the highest leveled person here, there was little we had to worry about.

“My friend has a tick and tends to laugh at inopportune times, due to stress, he’s also a bit of an idiot,” Martin cut in.

The man seemed to think about that for a bit before turning back to Martin. “You have any weapons?”

Martin nodded slowly.

“You will have to turn over any weapons before you are allowed to see the council.”

‘Oh great, another fucking council,’ I thought. Did they just pop up like weeds because nobody could decide who should lead them?

“As long as they are returned when we leave, I don’t see this as being an issue.”

Martin handed over his mana pistol, which was probably worth more than the entire gear of all ten people surrounding us. I handed over my staff, well, I kicked it over as it had fallen to the ground when I raised my hands.

Two men approached and frisked the two of us, before using plastic zip cuffs to tie our hands behind our backs. I realized these people were woefully ignorant of the world at large if they thought the handcuffs would hold anyone. They didn’t even glance at my storage rings as we were frisked. It made sense seeing as they had walled themselves off and never left the town. They were likely surviving off scavenged food from the supermarket.

As we were walked through the town by four of the ten men, I heard one in the back whisper. “Should we take him to one of the out-of-towners and have their levels checked?”

“You going to pay the fee? That prick charges a meal voucher for every service. Besides, we captured these two without a fight, how high of a level could they possibly be?”

I thanked my high perception otherwise I wouldn’t have heard the conversation. It also clued me into the fact that at least one of the people here had come from Durbinton if they had an identification ability. God, every time I thought of that name of that town I found it more asinine.

We were eventually led to a building that looked like a masonic temple. You know, home of the Freemasons and Illuminati rumors. The reality was way more mundane though. Mostly they just had a banquet hall that they rented out, and a small bar for members only. Occasionally they would do some act of charity for the community. How do I know this? Well, my father was a member and we would come to a building similar to this twice a year when he was alive.

The inside of the building was dimly lit by wavering candles, adding the strange scent of the flavored candles to the mix of old tobacco and the smell of so many old people, having come through the building in its prime. It was the same smell you got when you visited a nursing home.

We were brought into the main hall which was large enough to house maybe a hundred people. There was a short stage on one end, more just a step than anything. Sitting behind a table on that stage were five people.

They looked quite busy, writing on sheets of paper and handing them to others that sprinted out a back door.

The keyword there was ‘looked’ My perception aided me again when I was able to spot the writing on one sheet. It was only for a second but I could read it clearly. It was complete gibberish. I realized they were trying to put on a show of being important and I couldn’t hold back my laughter.

Everyone in the room stopped and all eyes turned to me. I couldn’t help it, it was the funniest shit I had seen since the world went to hell.

“What is the meaning of this!” one of the women behind the table asked in a pompous voice.

I doubled over, laughing even harder.

Apparently, that was the wrong response as Bruce shoved the butt end of his spear into my side.

“You will show respect to the council!” he growled.

I barely even felt the action, but I finally got myself under control as I stood up straight and wiped a tear from my eye.

This got angry murmurs from the guards as they all aimed weapons at me.

I was confused for a split second before remembering that I had been handcuffed. Whoops.

Before the scene spiraled more out of control, Martin spoke up.

“Please excuse my friend, he is having a hard time and suffers from a condition that causes him to laugh at inappropriate times.”

“Like that guy from that movie?” One of the hall guards said.

“Exactly,” Martin added.

“I thought that was a made-up condition.”

“No, as you can see it’s a real condition,” Martin replied.

The councilwoman that spoke before, piped in. “Perhaps the guards here can take your “special” friend outside while we talk?”

I didn’t bother fighting the guards and followed along quietly as two of them led me to a different room. This woman thought she was a big fish in a small pond when in reality she was a tiny fish in an ocean of predators. It wasn’t even worth my time to be mad at her comment. Martin would work his magic and this deal with the Commander would happen or it wouldn’t. It was probably better if I wasn’t there to fuck things up.