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The Guardsmen
Chapter 2: The Families (Updated)

Chapter 2: The Families (Updated)

Within the forest, Udera meandered slowly, his cane aiding his weakened form, as he walked with Tarphus out of the woods. "Christapher is to attend." When Tarphus heard this, his eyes narrowed, and he tenses.

"Boy, I can understand your opinions on his actions; by the divine, he does deserve your anger, but do not let it consume you." Tarphus looked at his mentor with rage and sadness. "I can understand why I must stay my hand, that brat is the Duke's son, but what he did to Whilogha-"

"Was completely detestable, grotesque, and immoral?" Udera interrupted his pupil with a solemn smile. "I trained you, boy, and I understand your rage, remember I am on your side. However, a messenger from the Federation." he spat the word out with disgust tainting his voice, "is of no consequence in the grand scheme of politics; you may get your revenge one of these days." A minute of silence ensued as they continued their walk, "Your mother, what did she say?"

Udera looked curiously toward his student; though he detested this place, this was something that he must know. "She was worse than before, sir. She..." Tarphus paused as he shifted uncomfortably and continued while glancing back nervously. "It tried to kill me before calming down; throughout the conversations, it tried to devour me… I do not think that she is there anymore."

Udera nodded solemnly and smiled, trying to comfort the boy, "I do not know about that; I mean, were you not laughing a little while ago? Surely, she just needs mor-" "Enough! Please, just not now, okay? Can we just talk about the upcoming event?"

The two continue into the dark woods, and the tense atmosphere is so dense a knife could cut it. "Are there to be any envoys from the Darthanie Empire?" Tarphus was the one to break the silence, his words trying to bridge the gap between the two.

"Ha, for such a small gathering? No, at most, they would send a delegate to the Duke; you're only a knight's son, boy. The Darthanians would not stoop so low as to come into a knight's domain, and those pill guzzling drug addicts only wish to find their high."

"I believe they call it Cultivation master," Tarphus interjected with a smirk remembering how his tutor hated the illogical nature of the Empire. It was a bloody place where the emperor was changed every twenty or so years in a bloody fashion. Seeing the smile on his student's face made him chuckle.

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"Likewise for the Federation, you are a nobody in the grand scheme of things, so nobody in the Federation would know your father's name." Then Udera paused, running a hand through his beard, "If anyone from those two powers knows your father's name run, I do not care if it would be cowardly to their circles but just run."

Tarphus nodded as if he had heard this a thousand times already. "I must ask, sir, who are the families that are coming today?" Udera chuckled. "Two from the late Novalas family, the twins Marbiline and Antonius, from Lady Scarlet's web crawls her daughter, and the good Sir Vandeer has his son…."

He grinned at Tarphus, "Damitir is also coming." Tarphus smiled and said, "So solemnly swear that we will keep out of trouble." Udera raised an eyebrow, continuing a smirk plastered on his face. "There are others, of course, but those will be of the most important of this batch of brats."

Within the town at the center was the Manor of house Cullivan; this house was seen as a valiant defender that, while being new, was steadfast and loyal to the crown. This is due to the tremendous export of healing herbs, potions, and food supplies. In contrast, this place supplied low-quality alchemy. Nevertheless, they produced it in such volume that it kept entire armies fed and protected the Kingdom.

In this manner, a tall, broad-shouldered man sat in the middle of a spartan ESC office; the walls held no decorations nor had any shelves. The only thing on the wall was a large halberd and shield. These sat behind him and gave a baleful aura.

He looked down from his desk imperiously at a person who meekly strode into his sanctum and kneeled head down. "My Lord, I am regretful to inform you, but another massacre was sighted. Again, my apologies, but the spectators were not able to be found." the guard paused, still looking at the floor, choosing his words carefully.

"Further another bird blazed into the slums causing the dried wooden roof to catch fire, Karthus mustard the guards to put out the fire, but this has been the seventh one this year. My Lord, the others are worried, we, I-I mean they are wondering if this place is no longer safe, so ends my report." his head was still bowed so he could not see Lord Cullivan's face. what surprised him was the response from the Lord, a tired sigh as if this was just another afternoon to him. "Add the attack to the map, both the massacre sight and the house; we will await Seer Terrifim for her insight on the magical side of things."

The guard looked up at his Lord, then at the desk in front of him; papers, food supplies, potions relief rations, the taxes used to purchase building supplies, blueprints, and so much more seem his master had a plan. "Understood, Sir."

He bowed his head again and waited for his Lord to dismiss him. "You may leave Jenkins; oh, take the day off, tell Karthus to relax and find himself a wife; he deserves it." The guard Jenkins blinks a few times then leaves as his master motions for him to leave. "Karthus knows how to distribute the healing potions you are not needed for today; thank you, now leave. I must go back to planning."