Without prompting, I spin around, confronting the hooligans that thought they could take me by surprise. There's a satisfying look of shock on their faces as the hooligan pack stops dead in their tracks, contemplating their next move. As a moment of silence settles between both sides, I take the precaution of readying my defensive magics. I don't expect a bunch of countryside thugs to cause me any real trouble, but its always better to be safe rather than sorry.

"Stranger." the hooligan leader greets, his unruly hair draped over a dirty face pockmarked with acne scars. The henchmen behind him mill about restlessly, but are clearly itching for some action.

"Hello." I reply blandly, awaiting their next move. My indifferent response has clearly annoyed the Hooligan leader though, as his mouth twists into a grimace.

"Haven't seen you here before." the Hooligan leader sniffs as I nod in vague agreement, "Not that you aren't welcome. As long as you pay the proper respects, that is."

"I'm a respectful guy." I affirm mildly, waving away the implied threat.

"Heh. More like you're blind to what's going on around you." Hooligan Prime smirks as he waves a hand in front of the blindfold, "You really don't know what's going on in Southmarsh do you?"

"I know that trouble's brewing." I shrug. The Sage had given me the mission to help protect Ramon's family. I might not know all the details just yet, thanks to how abruptly the Sage sent Ramon and I on our merry way, but it stands to reason that the threat's probably a fairly nasty one. The type you need a magic knight around to handle.

"Trouble. That's a good way of putting it." Hooligan Prime agrees in a low voice, "So what's your business here then?"

"My business?" I grin back with assurance, "Its troubleshooting."

"And who's paying you," Hooligan Prime glares, "to troubleshoot?"

"The ruling family." I say pointedly. That should drive the point home. A pack of low rent thugs are going to think twice messing with the local power.

"Yeah. Like I thought." Hooligan Prime smirks, "You're just some blind idiot."

Hooligan Prime blurs into motion, his entire body flowing like water. My augmented reflexes catch the movement easily enough, but I'm still not quite used to the third person viewpoint provided by the Eyes of Ea. My right hand lashes out to grapple with Hooligan Prime, but I misjudge the distance and am left grabbing at air. My opponent ducks under my arm and his fist smashes into my gut. There's weight behind the blow, Hooligan Prime has clearly received some training. If I hadn't been reinforcing my body, that punch would easily have sent me down to my knees. But thanks to the magic, it feels like nothing more threatening than a light tap.

A pair of henchmen rush me from both sides, one of striking me straight in the shin with a vicious kick while the other drives his elbow into my head. Coordinated assault. All the blows are meant to force me to the ground as quickly as possible. These aren't just thugs. I daresay they're better trained than the Gendarme at Deshawn City, at least in combat. This can't be just a random shakedown.

Too bad at such short range, I really can't miss with my fists and feet.

"Still standi -" Hooligan Prime exclaims before my knuckles make contact with his face. My enhanced strength sends the tough flying off his feet and crashing into the small crowd of remaining backup henchmen. My arms then snake outward, grabbing the duo at my sides by their respective waists. With a small grunt of effort, I lift the pair up like overgrown children before slamming them head first into the dirt. The duo promptly take a trip to dreamland and I theatrically dust my hands off.

"Try hitting harder next time." I taunt, "Or maybe start lifting."

The Hooligans stagger back to their feet, but our confrontation is interrupted by the sound of galloping horses. Hooligan Prime takes a moment to glance at the road and his face immediately brightens up. His henchmen begin to smile as well, their expressions confident.

"Oh, you're in for it now." Hooligan Prime smiles and folds his arms expectantly.

The thundering hooves rapidly approach and a party of three men mounted on well built chargers leave the road, cutting directly in front of us. A tubby guy with slicked hair leads the group and at his command, the pair of underlings draw pistols, pointing them straight at me. The hooligans remain in the background, smirking away with abandon.

"Trouble huh?" Tubby's voice oozes out, his pot belly quivering. Oily sweat gathers at his brow thanks to the humidity rising from the nearby swamp.

Yeah. Trouble, for you that is. Pistols aren't enough to stop me if I wanted to get serious. I begin cracking my knuckles and Loaner makes a derisive snort at the newcomers.

"BRO!" Ramon shouts as he runs past me, right toward Tubby. Tubby dismounts and both men grab each other in a warm embrace.

"Whuh?" Hooligan Prime and I grunt simultaneously in confusion.

"Ay, look at little Ramy!" Tubby ruffles my friend's hair affectionately, "All grown up! I thought you were in Deshawn City?"

"Something happened, so I'm back here." Ramon pats Tubby on the shoulder fondly, "Been a long time, bro."

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Too long, too long!" Tubby agrees boisterously, "I was actually in Deshawn City, trying to help you out with that problem you had? Nobody disses little Ramy!"

"I would." I note from the side, "Ramy is a pretty fag name."

"Who the hell are you anyway?" Tubby demands, scowling at me.

"Mac's my tough guy." Ramon pipes up, "Don't pay any attention. You can sort of ignore him if he gets to annoying."

"Hey!" I snap in protest.

"Guns down, guns down." Tubby commands his men, "That guy's hired muscle like you. Lil Ramy's finally taken my advice and hired a proper bodyguard."

"Mind doing the introductions, Lil Ramy?" I quirk an eyebrow at Ramon as he blushes in embarrassment.

"Man, that childhood pet name." Ramon sighs, "Thought we agreed not to use it in public, bro."

"Everyone's family here." Tubby waves an arm expansively, "The name's Richard by the way, tough guy. The big brother of your employer."

"Remember that."

......

"I don't get it." Ramon frowns, seated behind me on Loaner's back as his brother leads us toward the family estate.

"You've been gone for awhile Ramy," Richard makes a vague gesture, "Things have changed. Not all for the better."

"I thought your family ran things here?" I ask, keeping an eye on the road. Its a straight run toward the town in the distance, so we should be reaching our destination soon enough. What really strikes my eye is a massive tower, jutting out from the middle of the town like a misplaced phallus.

"We do." Richard purses his lips as he spurs his own horse, "Just not quite so officially anymore."

"The old man is the Lord of Southmarsh." Ramon objects, "Always has been."

"And he still is." Richard adjusts his dusty doublet as it strains against his girth, "Its just that, the town and the lordship aren't quite the same thing? I don't really understand it myself."

"All I know," Richard grumbles as he takes out a snuff bottle from his pocket, "is that there's a new family in town. The Montforts. Claiming that they own the place. Pile of crap is what it is. Father is taking them plenty serious though."

"Oh. So that's how it is." I nod sagaciously, getting a rough idea of what's going on.

"Mac?" Ramon quizzes inquisitively, "Copper for your thoughts?"

"The land your estate is on, is it a leasehold?" I ask. Richard takes a hearty snort from the bottle before deigning to answer.

"Maybe? Don't really know." the fat man harrumphs, "You figured something out?"

"My guess is that the land wasn't transferred to your family permanently when the lordship was granted." I hazard, "Robeur Keep in Deshawn City works the same way. The Knight Commander doesn't actually own the place. He can just use it for a fix term, unless its extended of course."

"So you mean that our ownership of Southmarsh somehow lapsed ..." Ramon muses uneasily to himself.

"And wasn't renewed by the royal family." I conclude, "The Dasars would then remain lords in name, but the land would no longer be theirs."

"Huh." Richard scratches his chin in silence.

By now we've almost reached the town itself, and from what I can see, its a haphazard collection of new construction and barely patched together wrecks. The aftermath of the Farmer's bloody reign of terror, most likely. The population of the town had yet to fully recover, so there's been no need to repair every inch of it. The reasoning makes sense, but the town nevertheless has a very slapdash look about it. As if it would collapse at any moment.

A pair of guards by the wooden gate perk up at our approach, awkwardly shifting their muskets about in their arms. Unlike Richard and his entourage who wear well tailored but gaudy clothing that sears the eyeballs, these guards in stark contrast are neatly dressed in blue jackets and long slacks, coupled with a smart beret.

With a loud snap of Richard's fingers, his men ride forward arrogantly, one of them firing his pistol into the air. The guards by the gate look down in frustration and obediently give way to our entourage. The other rider follows up by kicking one of the guards in the head, sending the man landing flat on his back.

"See what I mean? Montfort House Guard." Richard sneers in distaste as we ride into the town, "Strutting about like they own this place. Need to teach them a lesson now and again."

"Not much fight in them though, bro." Ramon remarks as we ride down a freshly paved road, past several burned down buildings. More scars from a more violent time.

"That's because we've been teaching them a good lesson Ramy." Richard sniggers unpleasantly, "Why do you think the old man posts people by the river, even after the mine has shut down?"

"The mine has shut down?" Ramon quips in surprise, "When?"

"One or two years after you left." Richard shrugs, "Like I said, things have changed here. Still your tough guy handled himself well enough back there. So good job on picking him."

"Thanks." I grunt, "So those fellows back at the river were more of your people then?"

"Damn straight." Richard gives a thumbs up, "Montforts tried to get settlers to come here at first. So we began hitting the convoys. Scared most of them off, but you never know when they might come back."

By now, our small procession has fallen under the shadow of the tower. Ramon looks up with a mixture of awe and confusion.

"Did our house get bigger?" he mumbles softly.

"A few more floors got added." Richard boasts, "More fortifications as well, for y'know, obvious reasons. But its still the same place we grew up in."

"That's your home?" I question Ramon disbelievingly, "It looks more like a mage's tower than a noble manor."

Now that we're closer to the tower, I can take in pretty much all the details of its construction. Its huge and rectangular in shape, plus like the fat man said, well fortified. Balconies shielded by heavy wooden slats with firing loops jut out on almost every floor, providing protection and a good vantage point for gunners. From that kind of height, the tower's occupants could easily rain death on the whole town. The structure itself is composed of large blocks of stone for the walls as well as iron beams reinforcing the structure at strategic points. Windows cut into all four sides of the building allow the residents a complete view of the town, allowing the tower to function as a makeshift panopticon.

I take back my first impression. This isn't a mage tower. Its a military fortress meant to terrify and subdue the local population.

"We're just that awesome." Richard gloats, "Grandfather originally built a more traditional manor, but after the disaster with the Farmer, he decided something a little secure was needed."

"I see." I answer noncommittally, an uncomfortable feeling building in my gut. The townsfolk don't react to the scuffle at the gates, as if they've grown used to these throw downs. Regardless of who holds legal title over Southmarsh, its clear that Ramon's family is still large and in charge.

That only makes the Sage's assignment even more ominous.

The Dasar family deployed a Delinquent Commando Squad by the road to handle any incoming troublemakers. Their eldest son is secure enough in their position to openly beat up the House Guard of the actual owners of the territory. Their "manor" is a gigantic fortress built to withstand assault from a legend that almost single handedly genocided a town.

There really shouldn't be anyone, or anything, that could seriously threaten the Dasar family's safety.

Yet the Sage was clear about one point. Ramon's family was in imminent danger. None of their power or preparations meant anything to whatever was coming.

I'm beginning to regret this assignment already.