After being dismissed, Harper and Tim rejoins the rest of the unit gathered around the table dinning on some mutton stew, creamed fish and potato salad. The mixed aroma of the dishes filled the dining hall, the savory scent of the mutton compliments the tanginess of the sea radiating from the fish. Making such simple dishes seem like a feast. Tosh calling out to them to eat.
Tosh: Hey! Our two esteemed officers, let me guess, you two received an earful didn’t you?
Jhuan: C’mon Tosh, It’s been a long day for everyone just hand them a seat and chow down.
Kf: Just sit your butts down and grab a plate already, I’ve been dying to eat actual food and not Labry’s ready to eat crude.
Labrys: How quaint. This is how you repay the man who stitched your head? If you wanted to take a chomp out of some poisonous fungi growing in the woods, be my guess.
Tim: Hey, no fighting at the table, have some class people. And speaking about class, will need everyone to list that down and hand it over to Roland later. Everyone’s going to be issued new gear.
Cheers and merriment rallies around the table after hearing that one and all will be receiving an upgrade of some sort. As the rowdy crowd finally calmed down with the crate of mead Harper found lying around.
Harper: This right here is Lorraine’s special and strong frostlin mead, if she finds out we’ve gone through her stash, she’s going to skin us all. But I doubt any of us will remember today anyway after this.
Everyone raised their mug in high spirits as the mead kept flowing, drinking till the sunset. All twenty bottles in the crate gone in a matter of minutes, Roland walk towards the dining hall finding out what’s with all the racket going on.
Roland: What the fuck?
As the quartermaster takes a sip from one of the bottle.
Roland: Hmm high intoxication, weird bloody taste, and… you all are dead to Lorraine by sun rise. I wish you best to explain. However now, march your asses back to your quarters before I call upon thee the devil duchess.
After hearing Roland’s words, the men immediately jumped right back on their feet and began stumbling towards the door and into the hallway. Some having better tolerance than others. Jhuan is already unconscious after just a few steps through the door way. Meanwhile Kf and tosh are locked shoulder to shoulder to keep one another from falling over. Labrys scrambling towards the nearest open window to empty his gut. Last man standing now is Tim, always knew he was a strong drinker just shrugging it off like any other night out of town.
As Tim gives Harper a few taps on the back to ease the sick feeling of vomiting,
Tim: You hoping that hang over kills you before Lorraine does?
Harper: No… gods no. Just need some water alright, I’ll see you in the morning.
Tim: Sure thing my friend, Good night.
As Tim continues to march down the dim hallway unfazed, Harper rummages through his pockets for his keys, noticing that his door is already open.
Harper: Well screw me, forgot to lock up again…
He stumbles into his room, illuminated by the moonlight shining through his window, his bed unmade, some clutter left around here and there. A few books scattered around his desk. Doesn’t bother changing out of his garments and just plops down on his bed. The soft embrace from the bed was utter bliss to him compared to camping out in the woods.
As Harper dozed off, recollections of the mission at Zone 0-0-1 would come along, it was vague yet was haunting. Standing back at the square as the flashing lights in the sky imploded, the echoing machinery threads the streets, the mass graves in the streets. As he looks over to his comrades, Kf is bleeding profusely drizzling all over his uniform as Tosh carried him through the ruins. The feeling of dread was overwhelming, till he gone back to the staging area… The atrocities done by the soulless abomination. Hundreds of players dead as the savages marched as if they’ve just stepped on an animal’s carcass.
The dire situation could not get any worse, until one of them spotted Harper, and yet they were just standing there, in such a way that they’re admiring their work.
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“Wake up Harper… It is time to move”
It was already morning. The dream, no, the nightmare felt like moments ago, Harper shuddered to think if it went on much longer. Drenched in sweat he took a peek over the window to see the rest of the gang already set outside. What follows is a few loud bangs on his door. It was Roland.
Roland: You know mate, I don’t sleep that often in the afternoon, you got to fix your sleeping clock.
As Harper grabs a fresh change of clothes, takes a few chugs from his canteen to wash out that liquor after taste and headed out to greet Roland.
Harper: So… did you snitch on us yet?
Roland: Easy, I was minding my own business when the devil duchess of darkness asked about her special brew. I tried to ease the situation that she kept it at a poor hiding spot, almost blasted my shoulder, and promptly directed her anger towards someone else. I advise to be Tim to be the center of her anger.
Harper: Well then… better him than me I guess hehe. Where is everyone?
Roland: The usual roll call and equipment check. You’re the only one missing for it, though Tim somewhat joked that you drank the most ale, so Lorraine’s anger may be directed towards you.
Harper: Huh, surprised that everyone is already up was expecting them to be as smashed as I was.
Roland: I’d suggest you to get your ass moving right this instant my friend.
As Harper staggers out the front door of the manor, the rest of Task Force 8080 standing at attention. Just as Lorraine was about to start, she spots Harper and Roland leaving the terrace.
Lorraine: Ah yes, the champion of the drunks has regaled us with his presence. So what is your excuse for being this late?
Roland: Spare not the man, blame the booze.
Lorraine: Don’t you mean my Booze? For now, We’ll deal with this matter another time, Harper, join the ranks with the rest of them. Gear will now be issued in a few moments.
Harper: So… you aren’t mad at me?
Lorraine: Don’t push your luck.
Harper: Yes, ma’am.
With the rest of the force finally present, she starts rummaging through her notebooks as the men waited in anticipation. She calls them one by one, scavenging through the crates. Handing over their new gear. The twinkle in their eyes faded away as they feasted their eyes on an assortment of traditional armor and weapons Boiled leather, padded gambesons, chipped weapons. The men were speechless.
Tim: Umm, Lorraine, with all due respect but the fuck is this?
Lorraine: So, due to the shift in the world’s parameters in addition to the lack of intel of the game in its current state, Task Force 8080 is to be disavowed and be reformed under a new name. The Mactan Dynasty. When it comes to your gear it was based on your classes. One Ranger type, Two Vanguard types, a cleric and the rest were fighters. So training starts at 2 o’clock in the afternoon if you have any questions take it up after training. Except Labrys, he’s not required to attend later.
Tim: Hey wait a minute, why does Labrys not have to join?
Lorraine: Simple, because he is the healer of the group, He needs to reiterate on how to use healing magic and protective spells rather than depending on his supplies.
And lastly, everyone’s got work to do on the homestead. The group will be divided into two, first team will be overseeing the repair of the barn and mills, meanwhile the second team will be tending to the field. Every few days the teams will alternate among the tasks. With that everyone is dismissed.
Yes Ma’am, the men said in unison.
The squad then dispersed towards their respective sectors. Tosh, Kf and Jhuan surveying the perimeter around the ruined buildings marking down the damages and cleaning it out of debris and clutter while Harper and Tim were grabbing their tools and left for the fields. Lastly Labrys retired to his quarters researching about remedies and potions.
A week has passed over the homestead, everyone getting accustomed to their daily duties and the usual shift changes, Lorraine managing the group’s expenses on her ledger. Roland messing around with stuff just lying around inside the toolshed. Labrys tried to see if he could channel even more mana passed his current limit. Whenever there’s no work to be done, the rest of the men trained instead. Behind the manor there was a makeshift arena with targets and practice dummies scattered around, At the center of the arena, the dueling grounds It was Tosh sparring against Tim with wooden swords.
Tim: Let’s make things interesting with a wager.
Tosh: I’m listening…
Tim: Loser has to cover the winner’s shift for the week.
Tosh: You’re on.
As first they seemed to be swinging mindlessly, however once the agreement was struck, neither men were backing down, their movement was sluggish however is straight-forward assuming a preferable stance, Tim taking a style similar to a knight opposed to Tosh’s eastern style.
Tim’s approach to combat was brutish at most, relying on wide and open swings full of power, nevertheless being on the receiving end would immobilize most men. Contradicting Tosh’s style in where he flows with the wind, prancing around his foe seeking for cracks in the opponent’s defense.
Jhuan: Can’t tell if they’re equally good, or equally bad…
Harper: It’s a clash of techniques my friend, and besides it’s been two weeks since we’ve started practicing again with traditional weapons. Anyhow is archery working with you?
Jhuan: Need to start wear training bracers again, the bowstring ends up scratching my forearm from time to time, How about you? Does bearing a shield weigh you down?
Harper: No, not really since I like the extra protection. It boosts my resolve to protect everyone around me.
As men continued, Kf was running towards the training grounds, yelling something about we’ve got company at the gates. Tim distracted by Kf’s noise, Tosh manages to sweep Tac of his feet and deliver a blow dead center of his chest.
Tosh: I win!
Tim: Screw you, that doesn't count…
Harper: No time for bickering, grab your gear and let’s go.