I scanned the room for anyone still on their feet and spotted two men in camouflage and carrying rifles. One man was tanned, had a cigar jammed underneath a well-trimmed beard, and rested in the semi-relaxed pose of an experienced non-com. The other was a fresh-faced 18-year-old wearing the blue and white flag of Greece patched on his tiger stripe/woodland mix uniform and instead of the standard helmet he wore a worn camouflage field cap.

Noticing the Sergeant patch on the tanned man, I turned toward him and walked up to the man “What happened here sergeant?” the sergeant took another long drag on his cigar before sighing an exhausted dragon’s smoke cloud. ‘Sweet Williams cigar, classy’ I thought before the man began to speak.

“Only Allah truly knows, but these men” he waved his arm around gesturing to the surrounding room “took their grievous wounds in an explosion of the city’s magazine.” he was sharply interrupted as the Greek cut in with “Enough about what’s going on here, who are you and what are you two doing here?”

I shrugged and overly exaggeratedly looked between them. “Same reason you’re are here. We’re here to get some well-earned RNR. You know, Beer, cards, that sort of thing”

The Greek seemed mollified by my answer. “Sorry for the…” he waved his hand in a vague gesture.

“Don’t worry about it, but I’ve been a bit rude myself. Mainly 'cause I haven’t properly introduced myself or my friend here.” I lightly slapped Alexei’s shoulder. “I’m Harly Robinson former lance corporal in the US Marine Corp and the leader by acclamation of our little band. This here is Alexei formally of the Russian army and my very unofficial XO (second in command).”

Alexei gave me a look that managed to convey both shock and resignation. “So unofficial in fact that he just noticed.” I jokingly mentioned.

“Well, my name is Sergeant Nahid Ramin…. I haven’t thought about it too much, but I am formally of the Turkish armed forces and this here. " There was a slight pause as he pointed toward the Greek. “Is Grigoris Alanidis formerly of the Greek armed forces." The trooper mentioned gave a little wave.

Turning serious once more I addressed the Turkish sergeant “Could we talk outside for a moment? Would hate to smoke up the place.” but my real reason was to get away from the slaughterhouse of a ‘hospital’.

On our way out I could hear the Greek exchanging cigs with Alexei in exchange for a rundown. Both me and Sergeant Nahid had to make way as Bunden, Walter, and Snow, barged through the doorway hauling one thing or another. Most of the bags were marked with the red cross or other such medical symbols. I winced slightly at how much of our medical supplies were in those bags. My slight displeasure must have shown on my face because the burly Arabic sergeant chuckled and slapped me on the back.

“Don’t try to stop her, that she-devil will take your arm off if you try.”

“Yeah… I had that feeling.” I sighed “Well, who knows, she might save a few.”

We passed the ‘She-devil’ in question with the last bag of medical supplies that had been packed in the trucks. She didn’t spare a glance at either one of us as she quickly walked back inside towards the killing floor.

I took in a deep breath as I passed through the doors. The fresh air filled my lungs, driving out the lingering miasma of the ‘hospital.’ I followed Nahid as he went to lean on a nearby wall with a good view down the street. As we both leaned on the wall, the sergeant passed me one of his cigars. He offered a lighter, but I shook my head and held up my zibbo with the flame already rising out of the top.

I lit my cigar and flipped my lighter closed with a satisfying clack. I took a deep draft of the sweet cigar smoke. “Fuck, that bit of nicotine hits the spot,” I thought as a cloud of smoke escaped my lips.

“Well, let’s get this story told and figure out what our options are.”

We were finishing up our chat just as the sun was beginning to drop below the rooftops. The story we had just exchanged would’ve sounded like two drunk loons on one hell of an acid trip to anyone else;

I couldn’t help it, laughter burst out of me like an avalanche. The sergeant looked at me for a second with that deadpan stare NCOs have been perfecting since the dawn of time. That only made me laugh that much harder. Nahid couldn’t hold that for long and his mask broke. It seemed that the crazy absolute absurdity of the situation had finally caught up to both of us.

After a minute or two we both managed to breathe enough to limp back inside. Unfortunately for us, the red-headed beauty had spotted us entering and immediately seized upon this new source of manpower. I noticed her appearance as she calmly walked in our direction. She looked more Valkyrie than a caring nurse as her scrubs seemed to have been given several coats of blood. She stopped in front of the two of us, “So, are you two going to help me the easy way? Or the hard way?”

Me and the Turkish sergeant glanced at each other before looking at the blood-covered woman. “We’ll do the easy way.” the red-headed Valkyrie nodded before gesturing for us to follow her. Which we did with a reasonable amount of reluctance. We walked over to the newly made makeshift medical tent taking up the rear left corner of the main hall. Propped up on a chair near the entrance were the two exhausted forms of Walter and Mc’cullen. Both of them had blood covering from their boots to their elbows. I shot a worried glance to Nahid and he reciprocated the look. What the hell did we get ourselves into?

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Two grime-faced men walked down a stone hallway. Both the men knew the other well so there was no exchange of idle conversation, even if they had wanted to the news they were bringing warranted silence. There was only the clacking of their boots against the rock floor as a sign of their passage. The hallway itself was fairly unremarkable as a rule, the few exemptions from this was an occasional window, even if the things were more murder holes than windows.

The men came to a stop outside of a wooden door with two halbert-armed guards on either side. The guards quickly snapped to attention after which one guard raised his hand and knocked on the door.

“Your lordship, Guard Captain Gerhardus de Beers and Minister Francois Isaac are hear as requested.”

“Good send them in Jaco.”

The guard opened the door for the two men, waited for them to enter, and closed it with a thunk. The man inside the room was dressed finely but not ostentatiously with closely cut and quality shirt and pants, not to mention the wolf pelt jacket laid across the back of the armchair on which he was sitting upon. The man waved them toward a pair of armchairs arranged around the fireplace with a roaring flame which heated the room. The two men stiffly walked over and took their seats. Both men waited for the other to speak so the silence extended until he spoke.

“What’s the matter with you both I already know about the City’s magazine exploding. I’m pretty sure every beggar and cripple in the city knows about it by now. So Gerhardus and Francois you can tell me about it.”

The guard captain took a breath and charged in before being interrupted “Well your lordship”

“Please Gerhardus I’ve known you far too long for that ‘lordship’ business so out with it.”

“Yes, Philippus well the cities magazine explosion was no accident as you’ve well guessed. But now we have enough evidence to point toward the Lionheart trading family with connections going into other prominent trading families. With all the leads we currently have more than 60% of all trade going out and coming into the city is in their hands. And that kind of money buys enough mercenaries, informants, and in a pinch loyalty to a certain extent, all of which is a serious problem. But I don’t have to tell you that”

The guard captain sighed and relaxed back into his chair while his companion took up the lead.

“Not to mention the goblin raiders that have been ravaging the countryside and even put us under that brief siege. My thought is that the traitors and the Goblins are working together in some capacity.”

The lord seemed to be thoughtfully rubbing his well-trimmed beard. “Maybe that’s the reason for the sudden attack on our walls. Perhaps once the Goblins closed with our walls we’d find ourselves attacked within having them opening the gates for the goblins outside.”

That thought sent a shiver down the lord’s spine but he didn’t show it.

“It’s a good thing we had that mercenary engineer appear a few days before the battle. It would’ve been a disaster if they had gotten to the walls.”

The lord looked to his guard captain “That mercenary seems out of place to be part of the lionheart’s treachery.”

The guard captain nodded “It seems like they haven’t gotten their claws into him yet. Also while on the topic of strange mercenaries, some turned up right after the explosion on some of those magical carriages that I hear are all the rage in the capital.”

The lord’s expression grew darker. “Do you think they are under the employ of the lionhearts? I knew they had money but those magical carriages are supposed to be ludicrously expensive. You can hardly ever see one outside of the capital and even there they are few and far between.”

The Minister shook his head. “I personally doubt it, I oversaw the taxes for most if not all of the major trading houses that keep trade routes through here. While they could’ve kept some money hidden from me and mine, an amount large enough to purchase a single magical carriage we would’ve found easily, let alone 3 or 4. We aren’t the all-seeing god Berlor, but we are hardly that incompetent.”

The guard captain spoke up in support “Plus no matter how high the quality of the mercenaries it wouldn’t be worth it to spend that kind of capital on the handful that came in the carriages.”

The Minister shifted in his seat “There is another option Philippus.”

The Marquess “And what would that be Francois?”

“They're from the capital as reinforcements or… as an inquisitor and his troops.”

The room went silent, each man looking into each other's faces. The silent tension was only broken by The Marquess letting out a sigh.

“Be careful either way as we may be able to use their support. There’s always the chance that they are just really well-off mercenaries and if they're one of the three inquisitors then we’ll assist them as best we can. Francois, I want you to be watching them. Gerhardus I need you to work on the military situation. We need powder desperately, overpay handsomely for it if need be. That’ll get the merchants scrambling to get here with our powder.

Thank the good lord that we had already sent for help a few weeks ago. As we should be getting reinforcements next month.”

The Marquess got up, went behind his desk, and reemerged bearing a bottle of fine red wine and three glasses. He swiftly poured himself and the other two a glass of the red liquid. He handed his two long-time friends each a glass. “I think it’s going to be a long while until we’ll have the time to enjoy a glass of fine wine together.” the other two nodded with resignation. The Marquess Philippus Morkel raised his glass in a toast which the other two joined, clinking and draining their glasses in one smooth motion.