Duval Estate.

"So how'd it go?" Morty asked the Colonel.

The Colonel had returned to the garrison after the rather disappointing meeting with the Major General. He was tempted to just send a runner to deliver his report but thought it best to do so himself. So he gave orders for his troops to keep watch over things until he returned.

"It... didn't go as planned." The Colonel stated.

"Well, I don't have the National Guard busting down my door and you're still breathing. So how exactly did it go?" Morty asked again as he sipped on his bourbon.

The Colonel cleared his throat before giving his official report.

"I assembled some troops. If we were going to make an impression on the National Guard I thought it best to show the Major General that we were serious. We then marched to City Hall. Then me, the Lieutenant, a few soldiers, and a trog went inside to meet with him. I believed that the Major General would wish to see what our forces constituted of, which was why it wasn't just myself to meet him. We talked, briefly, about how we doled out justice before their arrival. To which he declared that we were to no longer continue the hangings and to send any criminals their way for containment. From there he declared that they would consider our offer of assistance and left."

Morty nursed his drink for a long moment as he processed the report. This obviously wasn't what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that his troops would be providing valuable assistance to the National Guard so that the likelihood of him being Waco'd would be alot smaller! Instead he was just told that his troops were being turned away!

"Should I continue my orders, General?" The Colonel asked as Morty quietly fumed.

"No." Morty declared after a long silence.

"General?"

"Pull our troops back to the territory we fully control. The shops that are either owned and operated by us or those that haven't been prickly about our protection." Morty ordered.

"Sir? But what about the town? Are we not to protect them as well? What about the ferals?" The Colonel asked with uncertainty.

"The National Guards' problem now. If they want to deal with the towns' problems then let them and we can focus our forces elsewhere." Morty explained.

The Colonel didn't like it. Not one bit. It felt like retreating. At the least he thought they'd still assist with protecting the town and keeping the ferals in check. Sure he didn't have the numbers to police so many people, but to just back out?

"Sir? Shouldn't we at least attempt to maintain our position?"

"No. Consolidate our troops in our territory. When the National Guard bite off more than they can chew, then they'll want us to come in to take the edge off. I guarantee that most of those grunts aren't battle-hardened vets. So when the time comes that some punk with baby fat comes face-to-face with a pack of rabid ferals they'll start panicking. And that's not even getting into what'll happen to them when they've been here a few weeks."

"What do you mean General?"

"What I mean is that soldiers tend to get antsy over long periods of time being deployed. Know what that means? That means that they start looking for ways to entertain themselves. That means some incidents popping up between the locals and the troops. That means that whatever goodwill they get from being protected by humans rather than goblins will be fucking destroyed when it becomes clear that they can't crack the whip on their men like we can. It means that the National Guard will either be forced to crack down themselves or turn to us to do their dirty work."

"Still, it feels like we're retreating, Sir."

"Don't think of it as retreating. Think of it as a tactical withdrawal."

"I still feel we should make more of an effort. The town is our charge to protect and we shouldn't step aside so easy!" The Colonel declared, and caught himself when he realized he spoke with a bit more passion than he should've.

He cleared his throat and stood at attention.

"My apologies, General. I didn't mean to question your orders. I merely suggest against ordering such a quick retrea- tactical withdrawal. If I could have a few days to perhaps come to an agreement with the Major General? If I can't produce an agreement of cooperation by then I shall withdraw our troops as ordered, Sir?"

Morty stared at the Colonel. He really hated the idea of letting the National Guard take over their role didn't he, Morty thought as he downed the last of his drink.

"Fine. You can have a couple days. But if nothing comes of it you pull back and let them deal with shit."

The Colonel almost let out a sigh of relief. At least he had time to fix this, he thought.

"Thank you, General. I'll take my leave now."

With that the Colonel departed, leaving Morty to stew. Was he being petty and vindictive? Sure. On one hand he was relieved that he wasn't getting his door kicked down. On the other, the fact that the National Guard so easily dismissed his troops was insulting!

Fine, Morty thought as he left his study. If the National Guard want to deal with shit then let them. He'll focus on his own stuff for now and wait until they kicked the pooch and realize that his forces were better suited to keep the peace than a bunch of National Guard grunts were.

Morty made his way down the steps and into the foyer and made his way to some of the Red Caps that were still stationed at the manor. He pointed to a couple.

"You two. Get some men and begin construction on some barricades along the road to town."

The two Red Caps saluted and began to leave to get some troops and dragues. Morty called as they left.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"AND TELL THAT TOTALLY NOT SUSPICIOUS BLACK VAN TO BEAT IT! IT WAS FUN AT FIRST BUT NOW THEY'RE TRESSPASSING ON A PRIVATE ROAD!"

Course he knew the Feds were watching him. A black van showing up down the road from his house one day all but screams "We're the FBI and we're watching you". Of course they've stayed just up the road and haven't came by since that initial visit of theirs. But FBI or no, they're on a private road and they needed to go. Would the barricades he was having set up help against any attacks by the Feds or National Guard? Doubtful. But he was feeling pretty petty at the moment and any chance he would take to inconvenience them he would.

With that itch scratched, he moved on. On to what exactly? He didn't know. The downside to delegation was that he now had fuck all to do at the moment other than traipse through the woods and check on progress. But that was like watching a clock and expecting it to go faster.

Gerard said he would deal with matters of the fair and even the nobles. The Colonel is overseeing things with the town. Which left him to do absolutely fucking nothing! Morty sighed as he finally realized what he had to do. Guess he should finally go apologize to Jeb, he thought as he made his way to the kitchen. Usually they'd interact more and Jeb would eventually just forgive him and things would return to normal. But with how busy he's been he hasn't seen him or Clive as often as he used to.

Maybe he should go see Clive as well, Morty thought as he got out baking supplies. Sure he could have the staff make the pie for him, but he wanted something to do. As he got things going he made for the basement and the walk-in freezer.

"Let's see, let's see. What should I make?"

He could make a shepherds pie. But Jeb always did like his Cajun cooking. So maybe some sort of seafood pie? He didn't have any crawfish though, but what are crawfish but smaller lobsters? So he pulled a chilled lobster out along with a couple snappers and a bag of oysters and made his way back up. He sat aside everything to thaw while he rolled up his sleeves and got to work on the dough and the sauce while the sisters watched from nearby, too large handed to handle anything but content to watch Morty actually cook.

-----

The Colonel marched down the road and back towards the garrison. The General wanted them to fall back and let the National Guard run things, but he didn't want to give up so easily. Especially as it seemed like they were just starting to get a measure of cooperation among the people. If they pulled out then they might never get it again. He had to try again with the Major General. Even if they were in an auxiliary role, that would be enough for the Colonel to report to the General. But he wasn't going to just step aside just yet.

Unlike before, the Colonel marched alone towards City Hall. No regiment of troops, no guards, nothing other than himself. Despite him being alone, many of the locals still gave him some space. The only exception were the National Guard troops that paid him no mind as he went on his way. Which was still a bitter feeling for him. To put so much time and effort into the place and someone shows up and makes you feel insignificant despite giving your all. To give so much only to be told that it was time to leave and let someone else take over things. No, the Colonel thought. He wouldn't allow such a thing without a fight. So he marched along with a determined look on his face.

He arrived at City Hall and marched through the doors, the stuttering clerk fumbled at his sudden presence and scattered papers onto the floor. The Colonel glanced at a nearby grunt, causing him to depart to retrieve the Major General. So the Colonel waited. Paying no heed to the stuttered questions from the clerk who seemed panicked about either to assist him in some way and cleaning the mess he's made.

After a minute the grunt returned with the Major General once again.

"Didn't think I'd hear from you again so soon."

"As I said. We are here to assist in keeping this town safe." The Colonel declared.

"And as I said, we would consider it."

"No you wont."

The Major General cocked a brow.

"Oh?"

"We both know you washed your hands of us when you heard about what we do to keep the peace if not the second you saw us. To you, we're glorified thugs wearing costumes and playing at being soldiers." The Colonel said with bitterness.

"What you don't know is how many of us have died to keep this town and its people safe. How long we've patrolled the streets and dark alleys. How many lives we've saved from murderers, rapists, and monsters." The Colonel continued, passion causing his voice to raise.

"While people have been calling for help, either from you, those humans in the black suits, or even the sheriff himself, it was me and my men that have been going for WEEKS to keep them all safe! We cleared out alleys, rundown stores, and apartment blocks of ferals and criminals! It wasn't the sheriff and his men and it wasn't those in the black suits, it was US! WE were the ones keeping this place from eating itself! If we don't work together then I am under orders to pull my men back."

"Why don't you then?" The Major General asked with a curious look in his eye.

"Because I was put in charge to protect these people. I've personally promised several that I would protect them from harm. I will NOT go back on that promise, Major General."

The Colonel stood there, his breath heaving from the fiery plea. He stood there and watched the Major General and what his reaction would be. He was expecting a commanding order or an equally fiery retort telling him to leave and don't come back. He had a slim hope for his words to work. What he didn't expect was the Major General to smile at him and chuckle.

"You know somethin'? I remember hearin' very similar words a long time ago. Spoken in that same tone too for the same reasons!" He said with a wistful look on his face as he seemed to be far away right now as if he was recalling something.

He looked up and seemed confused for a moment as he looked around before finally getting a sad look on his face. He turned to the Colonel.

"Come back tomorrow."

With that he turned to leave. The Colonel looked confused and called out.

"Major General?"

He paused.

"It's gettin' late. You should head back home for the night. Come back tomorrow and we'll go over how you'll be assistin' us in keepin' people safe."

The Colonel stared dumbfounded at the departing figure. He was broken out when he heard the Major General's voice call from down the hall.

"And bring a bottle of scotch! I have a few things I'd like to discuss with you!"

The Colonel just stood there for a long moment. It had worked, he didn't expect they'd have a major role in assisting the National Guard, but at least a promise of cooperation should be enough to keep the General from ordering them to pull out of the town altogether!

So he left. Head a little higher and back a little straighter and a bit of pep in his stride. He could return to the General and report some progress with the Major General, and see if he could procure some scotch.

-----

"Jambalaya and a crawfish pie and fillet gumbo, cause tonight I'm gonna see my ma cher amio-"

DING!

"Sweet!" Morty cheered as the oven dinged, signaling that his food, and his singing, were done.

With some oven mitts he pulled the steaming seafood pie from the oven and sat it on the counter to cool. Morty then darted around the kitchen to retrieve a container to hold it in. Once that was done he turned to the sisters.

"Let's go girls."

So he and the sisters made their way to the Cadillac and drove up down the road. Past the construction of the barricades, and past where a certain not-at-all-government van used to sit, and towards town. As they drove he hummed along to Hank Williams some more while giving a side-eye to the military vehicles when they stopped at an intersection before continuing on towards Jeb's.

Skeeter's shop looked busier than usual, Morty noted as he could see dwarves and gnomes coming and going from the shop. Large crates were being picked up while others were being dropped off. Morty didn't have the foggiest what they might be though.

"Oh well, not my problem." He muttered as he passed by and went on his way.

He turned down the road that Jeb lived on, passing by Sam's as he did. He was tempted to drop the sisters off and make his way up alone again. But he thought better of it this time and so continued, the car protesting having to climb uphill with two extra passengers that weighed more than the car itself did. But it made it, Morty thought as they turned the last bend and came to Jeb's house. Or what was left of it that is.

Where Jeb's cabin once stood were now dozens of dwarves! Some were finishing clearing out the last of Jeb's cabin while others were busy excavating the land around it. Though he noted they gave a wide berth to a nearby tree with creepy blue leaves on it and seemed hesitant to go near the spots of blackened soil.

"What the fuck happened here?!" Morty exclaimed as he got out of the car and made his way over to where his friend's house once stood, the sisters close behind as they gave the dwarves wary looks. Something many of the dwarves returned.

Morty whistled a loud shrill whistle to get everyone's attention.

"Hey?! Who's in charge here?!"

"That'd be me, manlin'." A deep voice sounded and a dark-haired dwarf stomped towards him.

"Mah name is-"

"Don't care, where the fuck is Jeb?!" Morty interrupted.

The dwarf grumbled.

"If yer referin' ta tha godlin', he's long gone."

"No. I'm not referrin' ta tha godlin', I'm referring to my fucking friend that's lived here practically forever!" Morty mocked/yelled.

The dwarf's eye twitched in annoyance and spoke through clenched teeth.

"He. Left."

"When?!"

"Some days ago. Maybe a week." The dwarf responded curtly.

"Well where did he go then?"

"I don't know."

"Well who does?!"

"I. Don't. Know. Now fuck off, this is OUR land now and yer not welcome!" The dwarf demanded as his patience had worn away.

Morty was about to argue some more when he saw some of the dwarves begin getting closer while carrying axes, picks, shovels, and hammers. A couple even carried rifles! Morty threw up his hands.

"Fine! We're leaving!"

So he made his way back to the Cadillac with the sisters as they and the dwarves shared mutual glares with one another. The car protested making a quick escape but still managed to do so, at least going downhill was easier, Morty thought as they sped down the hill. But now he had another problem to deal with. Where did Jeb go? He was tempted to ask Sam, but he doubt if he knew he'd tell him where. He never did like him and Jeb being friends.

Maybe Clive, Morty thought. At least he still lived where he thought he did. Unless he somehow vanished into thin air between when he last saw him and now. Still, at least now he has another reason to visit and talk to Clive. So he changed course and made for the halfling colony, and his remaining friend.