Carl yawned and waited in some bushes. Or maybe became the bushes. Since the whole 'nature theme' had transformed the settlement and put trees and things everywhere, hiding with his Reflection power had really become too easy.

Not for the first time, he watched some of the others having one of their little 'secret' meetings on the edge of the settlement. People thought they were so sneaky.

"...listening to a word we say. Why should we help these Americans build their settlement when there's nothing in it for us? Don't civilians have the final say in a democracy?"

It was Mateo, of course. Amongst the civilians he was the lead rabble rouser, sewing dissent at every turn when he didn't get his way. His female counter-part, Cindy, stood at his side nodding like every word was worth writing down on stone tablets.

Mostly Carl watched the others. Usually it wasn't important members of the community, but Carl's breath caught in his throat when he recognized Peni the smith. He was the unofficial leader of the crafters, and what he said could sway the rest.

It was hard to read the big man's stoic face. He stood with arms crossed, mouth set hard and a bit puckered, like he was chewing a lemon. Eventually he put up a hand.

"Let's say I agree. So what? You see any other settlements? Cuz I don't."

"We don't leave," Mateo said as if the idea were ridiculous. "We strike! We show the players how badly they need us. That without us, they won't get their precious weapons and armor or anything else."

A long pause, and then:

"We'd need almost everyone. Silvie and her people. Bill and his. Otherwise they'd ignore you."

"I'm here." The voice of his pregnant lover froze Carl's breath. Silvie stepped out from behind a nearby tree with a few of her girls. "I can speak for everyone except maybe Rosa. We just want more of a say. More respect. Maybe some...I don't know, civilian laws."

Carl realized he was digging his fingers painfully hard into his thigh and relaxed his hand. What the hell was she thinking? Mason had saved her life. All their lives. And asked them for what? Nothing!

And now, in the middle of this insanity, they wanted what...guarantees? Some kind of town bureaucracy?

He shook his head, thinking it must be some kind of ruse. Except she'd been awfully skittish around the topic of town patronage since they'd arrived. She hadn't liked Blake, now she didn't like Mason? Carl was starting to wonder if she'd be happy with anyone other than her.

It sat in his gut like ice, rolling back and forth until he closed his eyes. No. He knew her, and he loved her. He refused to believe this was ambition, but something more like fear.

Blake and Mason were young and maybe foolish in her eyes, unable to make good decisions. She probably even had a point.

But Mason was practical. A survivor. And that's what they needed now. He'd come to Carl and Phuong, which meant he took advice from older men. Just not from preening morons like Mateo.

He maybe wasn't the perfect man for the job but who the hell was? They didn't have a five star general around. Kicking ass and becoming top tier in this strange new world was pretty much the only qualifier. If you weren’t a total psychopath, that was pretty much good enough.

Mason is trusting you, Carl reminded himself. He put you in charge while he was gone.

In fact, they'd made it official.

Haley had written up a formal contract specifying Phuong and Carl were co-patrons in Mason's absence. Which meant Carl actually had patron powers. He could even spend points, technically speaking.

He opened his eyes to see another group of civilians were entering the clearing with the others. Carl heard nothing but more belly aching about ridiculous things, the kind of talk that maybe belonged six months from now if life wasn't just about preparing for the difficulties ahead. People could be so damn...myopic.

"Mateo."

Carl stepped out from his hiding place and dropped his stealth. Every eye went wide and shot his direction, a few people spasming in alarm and looking like kids caught with sweets. Carl met the very few eyes that stayed steady, and lingered for a long time on Silvie.

"We just..." she started.

"Not now, Silvie. We'll talk later."

Carl felt actual sweat running down his sides. This was so far outside his comfort zone it was everything he could do not to run away, or smooth a hand over his fresh baldness (Silvie had insisted they shave his head) which he recognized had become something like a nervous tick.

"Is it a crime for civilians to meet in public now, Carl?" Mateo said with disdain. "To express their disagreement, to criticize our wise new king? I don’t remember inviting you."

Carl just shook his head, struggling to believe where they were.

"Jesus, you people. How many of you would even be alive without Mason?"

"And we're grateful," Mateo said. "But that doesn't mean we're his slaves."

"What the hell do you even do around here, Mateo?" Carl literally didn't know the man's class. "Is your class Chief Whiner?"

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

He thought that was pretty good, but nobody laughed. Mateo scoffed and shook his head.

"You see? The players don't even know what we do. I'm an Enchanter. With the right resources, I can improve all kinds of things. Houses. Tools. Weapons. But none of you will listen."

Carl shook his head, a decision getting very close to being made. He was in charge. And Mason didn't have the time for this shit. He'd put his trust in Carl and he wasn't going to let him down again. This needed to be dealt with.

"You're wrong," he said. "I've been listening. And I've heard enough. Mateo Estrada," he said, trying to sound official. "You are no longer welcome in this settlement. I want you to leave. Get your stuff, you've got an hour."

He raised his voice.

"And that goes for anyone else who doesn't want to be here. You heard Mason. There's the gate. Go ahead. Find your utopia." He forced his eyes to Silvie, who at least looked a little ashamed. "Or stay here and just do your damn part and help us. That's all I'm going to say."

Mateo scoffed as if this were all ridiculous. He looked ready to start a fresh speech, then the timer popped up in Carl's small patron profile. By the look in Mateo's far-away eyes, Carl knew he saw it too.

"Now I'm guessing," Carl said low and slow, "when that timer runs out, the rules about players and civilians might be slightly different until you get the fuck out of this settlement. So I'd get moving."

"You can’t do this." Mateo was looking a little panicked now. "You're what? Going to kill me? In cold blood?"

"No." Carl shrugged. "I expect I'd just pick you up and drag you, then toss you outside the walls. But that'll be unpleasant enough."

"Where the hell will I go?" The Spaniard's eyes were going wide with fear now, his usually condescending bearing curling inward. "It's a death sentence. You can't just leave me in the woods."

"I just did," Carl snapped. "And you should have thought of that before actively causing trouble every second of every day." He met the man's eyes, hoping the others were paying real close attention. "Mason's too damn heroic and maybe too young to see a snake like you for what you are. But I'm neither. You got 59 more minutes. If I were you, I'd get moving."

With that he turned his back and walked towards the center of the settlement, hoping his face wasn't as flushed red with heat as it felt.

Mateo ran right past him. Pretty soon he was yelling player names, and a few like Tommaso and Garet came out with curious expressions. Mateo told them he was being executed by Carl 'the Tyrant's Lapdog'. That if they didn't stand up to him they were no better than him.

Mostly, the players looked amused. Except Annie, of course, who stood in her doorway with frazzled hair and dirty feet looking more than a little crazy. Since Blake left, she hadn’t been doing particularly well…

But when that failed miserably, Mateo went back to Cindi. He called to the civilians. He said they should all threaten to leave, to show solidarity, or to come with him. When most turned away or went to their homes, he finally collected his things.

"Let’s go, darling, these idiots don’t understand or appreciate us," he said. Cindi didn’t even answer him. She just went inside her house, and closed the door. Carl took no pleasure in any of it.

With a final glare of hatred, but mostly terror, Mateo walked out the gate with his head bowed, nothing left but a backpack and a spear. Carl closed the gate.

He knew it would be a long, and probably lonely night.

Silvie would be angry, maybe even never forgive him, and things might not be the same. But still, he felt something like relief. In his old life he’d never done the hard things he knew he should. He'd lived his whole life playing it safe, keeping his head down, not ruffling feathers.

Not this time.

This time he'd do what was necessary, and keep those he loved safe, keep the world from going to shit, even if people hated him. Since the underground, when Mason leapt into the mouth of that worm, Carl knew what a real hero was.

With his second chance, he intended to be one.

* * *

Cliknik, Scout First Class of the Greenblood Order, watched as his target's gate opened. A single human worker came out shuffling his feet, holding a spear awkwardly with soft, weak hands.

Cliknik glanced at his squad mates, clicking a warning for everyone to stay sharp and ready, then made a bird call to warn the other scouts on the far side of the settlement that there was movement. They answered back with a single squawk: nothing here.

The scouts watched, and waited.

The human seemed to be talking to himself. Then he shouted and waved his fists and seemed distressed as he paced along the wall. Finally, he slumped his shoulders, and started heading into the trees.

They let him go about fifty paces. Then Cliknik blew a poisoned dart into the man's chest, and his scouts had him roped and silenced before he fell.

They woke him a bit deeper into the forest with a torture claw dipped in salt and lime.

"Oh God! Oh God, oh God! What's happening?" The human blinked awake and stared with huge eyes, failing miserably to move his bound limbs. He tried to scream when he saw the scouts, but Cliknik smothered his mouth.

"Shhh. It will be very quiet, or it will be silenced. Hmm?" Cliknik dragged the dull side of his knife across his throat. "Answers. Answers will be the human's salvation. Yes?"

The human shook with terror, but soon nodded as if he understood.

"Good. Good!" Cliknik removed his hand, ready to smash down hard to stop a shout. But he smiled when none came.

"I can help you," the human babbled. "I know things. Lots of things. About the settlement. About the players."

"Players, hmm? You mean the warriors?"

"Yes." The human gulped with a dry throat. "The warriors. I know their strengths, their weaknesses. And the settlement. It's vulnerable now. Most of the strongest are gone. It's weak now, if you strike quickly."

Cliknik looked back at his squad mates with an amused grin, and they returned it.

"When will they return? And how many remain, hmm?"

"You have to promise." The human swallowed at nothing again. "Not to kill me. I hate the settlement. I'll help you. But you have to keep me alive."

"Cliknik is scout," Cliknik soothed. "Knowledge is his goal. Not blood. We take you. To Greenblood caves. They decide. But tell Cliknik what you know, and he will speak for you. Oh yes, he can be very persuasive. He is Scout First Class. Best amongst best."

"I trust you," said the human. "I'm Mateo, Cliknik. And I can make you look good. Eh? Good prisoner. Good friend. Your masters will be pleased. If you just..."

"Answers now, please," Cliknik dragged the dull edge of his knife across the human's throat. "Quick now, oh so quick. When do warriors return? And how many remain?"

"It will be days," said the human. "Several days to return. There are..." he swallowed. "Ten left, maybe. Less. I'm...frightened, I can't think clearly. But I can tell you how each of them fight. All their powers. Everything. I just need a little time."

Cliknik rubbed his fingers along the human's face tenderly, and put away his knife. "It shouldn't be frightened. It has done all Cliknik asked." He gestured to his squadmates. "We take. Double quick."

He communicated with bird sounds to inform the other scouts, then cut the human's bonds. "Don't worry, we carry." He smiled, hoping to put the man at ease. It was true. He would make Cliknik look good, and he was very pleased.

When the Order first sent Cliknik to scout the human settlement, he had been most unhappy. Powerful warriors, he had heard, who killed many orcs of the towers.

But Cliknik had done his duty, and seen clearly the settlement was blessed by the hated tree witches. Then he had witnessed the creation of the Elemental Mine, which was already a great prize on its own.

Now he had captured a traitor. And maybe a useful one. If the Order conquered the settlement, Cliknik would be rewarded greatly.

"Good human," he pat his captive on the head affectionately, and removed a strip of dried flesh from his pouch. "Eat, hmm? Keep healthy and strong. Good human. Very good."