Theo’s feet barely touched the ground as he dashed forward, propelled by the power of a dexterity potion. The administration interfaces were filled with information. Aarok’s messages flooded through the town, banging in the alchemist’s mind like the repeated clang of the bell. The Wavecrest wasn’t alone. According to the reports, they were trailed by ships flying the flags of Tarantham.

The rescuers might have taken his advice too literally and performed a daring escape.

Gael sent Theo an endless string of personal messages. The old elf couldn’t keep up with the alchemist, and resorted to dumping paragraphs of protocol into the interface. There was some important information in there. Enough advice to avoid kicking off a war with the elves. That would be disastrous. The alchemist jumped from the wall in the harbor, spun in the air, then downed a [Retreat Potion] imbued with the [Refined Elemental Wind] modifier. One second passed, then he was rocketed backwards by the power of the potion. His coat billowed in the wind, the hood whipping against his ears uncomfortably.

The moment the potion’s effects wore off, Theo glided to the ground. As his feet hit the solid stones of the pier, he spun around and ran for the towers. He drew sharp breaths on the top of the tower, narrowing his eyes to spot the oncoming fleet of ships.

“What do I do?” the adventurer manning the post asked.

Theo opened his administration interface and read through the information provided by Gael. The Tarantham Empire was all about protocol. Saving refugees wasn’t against their laws, but trespassing in their waters was. So the fleet was pursuing them because they had crossed that line. According to good old Gael, they wouldn’t attack the Wavecrest once it was in port. But there was more.

“Just wait,” Theo said, keeping his eyes on the horizon. His stunted magical senses stretched out, but only made it as far as the edge of the tower.

Long moments rolled by as the Wavecrest crawled across the bay. It was limping into port. Limping. The fleet could have caught up with it at any moment, but it didn’t. All part of a posturing threat. Before long, Gael’s ragged breaths came from the tower’s spiral staircase below. He fell onto his back, gasping for air as he looked skyward. Theo gave him enough time to recover from the sprint.

“Wait for the Wavecrest to make port. Then fire a warning shot,” he said, mopping the sweat from his forehead.

“How big of a warning shot?”

“As large as you can manage.”

Theo turned to the adventurer and nodded. The half-ogre swallowed hard, then dug through a dimensional crate on the floor. He withdrew a little present that Throk had created, then seated it in the sled of the rail gun. A few sharp words to the sister-tower had them loading the same shot and taking aim. The alchemist retrieved a Drogramathi Iron slug from the crate, then chanted the [Dragon’s Antimagic] linked ward. Just in case.

“Here it comes,” Theo said, looking over the edge of the tower. The Wavecrest had cleared the outer section of the pier, gaining speed from the harbor’s upgrades.

The fleet had taken a position out in the middle of the bay. According to Gael, they would remain there to blockade the port unless the proper protocols were followed.

“She’s snug in port,” the adventurer said, giving Theo the thumbs-up.

“Fire when ready.”

The adventurer gave the signal to the other gun. Theo plugged his ears as the supersonic rounds were launched high into the sky. Throk was a genius artificer. He had created a timing device that would detonate the improvised explosives over an area. Kind of like a nuke.

The blinding light came first. Two balls of fire appeared above the ships. An instant later, those vessels were sent pitching either way. The shockwave slammed into Theo’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. The adventurer manning the gun was knocked off his feet, clutching his head. Assuming the gunner position, the alchemist loaded his [Dragon’s Antimagic] round and prepared to fire again. Those defenders that had assembled on the pier were knocked off their feet. Some had fallen over the edge, finding themselves in a churning sea.

Gael, who had been below the tower’s edge during the explosion, rose to his feet. “Look,” he said, pointing at the lead ship. “Now they shall limp away! Hah!”

The ships were turning. Slowly, but they were turning. Time for the elves to tuck their tails between their legs and get the hell out of alliance waters. Theo didn’t flinch from his spot on the gun. His eyes were trained on the ship. His round was loaded into the rail gun, ready to fire. But the message he sent was received by the fleet. They plotted a slow course around the barrier islands, then out into the open sea.

“Well… aren’t you useful?” Theo asked, clapping a hand over Gael’s back. “So, that was posturing?”

“Rules. The empire thrives on rules. If we didn’t show them we could defend ourselves, they would have stayed there for the season. They will send a delegation, opening up a channel for trade.”

“Really? After we nuked them?”

“That’s the way it works.” Gael leaned against the wall, looking off into the distance. “The emperor will recognize power. He hates weakness.”

“Theo!” Aarok’s voice carried from down below. “That was a good explosion! Did we win?!”

Theo descended the stairs after tipping a [Healing Potion] into the downed adventurer’s mouth. Gael joined him across the pier, where both the military and administrative branches of the town were waiting. They relayed the story with no fanfare.

Alise took notes, nodding along the entire time. “Thankfully, we have Gael. I’m guessing it would have been a bad idea to sink them.”

“That would have been war,” Gael said, rolling his shoulders. “Ack. I’m not meant for running. If anyone needs me, I’ll be asleep for a week.”

The group rushed off to the harbor, leaving Gael to lick his wounds. The Wavecrest had already docked in the harbor, and was unloading the passengers. They looked horrible. Bloodied, bruised, and malnourished… The elves looked like they had been through hell. The captain of the ship, a plucky elven man, cheered as he exited the ship. Theo let the administrators do all the talking, busying himself with the administration of healing potions. Bilgrob and Zarali joined in. The ogre mended wounds that were too great for either of them to handle.

As expected, Xam arrived with a feast for the refugees. Sixty elves. All crammed in that tiny merchant’s ship. Looking over the poor folk, Theo couldn’t stop the sensation building in his chest. They had suffered long before being rescued. Living in a cave with nothing to eat but what they could steal from the empire. He couldn’t decide if Tarantham was to blame. Perhaps they would get theirs when the time came. When the undead marched beneath the sea.

Sixty souls meant sixty new contracts. This influx placed Broken Tusk’s population at 602 people. The strain that Theo had expected to feel with so many new people—the last time they saved people from Tarantham—hadn’t come. The alliance sat on a surplus of food and homes. As expected, the refugees were appreciative. They signed the contracts, accepted temporary housing, and were generally excited.

Theo turned away from the group part-way through, moving off with Aarok and Luras for a private conversation.

“That was… concerning, Theo,” Aarok said, glaring off into the distance.

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The trio walked a winding path through the town, heading for the eastern gate with no other destination. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“World-stage stuff,” Luras growled. “We can pick off ships from the bay, but what happens when someone sends an ascendant attacker?”

“Without Fenian to defend us…” Aarok trailed off, shaking his head. “Who am I kidding? We’re always on that knife’s edge, aren’t we?”

Outwardly, it would appear so. But this business with Tarantham was standard. All according to Gael, of course. As long as they danced the right way, nothing would happen. The other nations were concerning, but not so long as they were busy with the undead. “Maybe. Let’s just stay ahead of it, right? We’re friendly with Partopour, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. That’s true,” Luras grunted.

Most of today had trickled away to various things. Theo hadn’t expected the Wavecrest to return, but it was a welcome sight. It gave him a taste of something he needed desperately. He needed people in the town. People in the alliance. Bodies and souls to help him prepare for whatever was coming. That drove him forward to do better—to recruit more people to the cause. But when it came down to defining his mission, he drew a blank.

Luras and Aarok chatted idly as they walked. Theo was lost in his thoughts. Was Broken Tusk a beacon of hope, or just another playground? It didn’t matter how someone defined this place. The people were fed, clothed, and housed. They wanted for nothing, giving them the chance to pursue their dreams. Those dreams might have been small alone, but together they created something bigger. Like many small flames coming together to create a blaze. The alchemist would dance around that fire as long as he could.

“I said we’re going to run patrols all night,” Aarok said, punching Theo in the arm. It was the only thing that snapped him out of his thoughts. “Wanna join?”

Theo thought for a moment. “Sure. Why not?”

“Take the first shift with Tresk. She already volunteered,” Luras said, jabbing his index finger skyward. “So did she.”

Alex was somewhere up there, flying circles around the town. If they were worried about elven infiltrators, it was a goofy thought. Better to be safe than sorry, though.

Theo broke off from Luras and Aarok, meeting Tresk and the gang back at the manor. Sarisa and Rowan were preparing food for the night, as Xam was busy with the refugees. The alchemist enjoyed their cooking, although he always ate light anyway. The discussion around the table was of the new elves. Of course it was. Alex sat in the alchemist’s lap as he ate, picking at his food and honking to interject her thoughts.

“Got your big boy pants on tonight?” Tresk asked, poking Theo in the shoulder with a three-tined fork.

“I’ve got my big boy coat, and my big boy boots. Good enough?”

“Perfect. I love night patrols.”

“Do you? We’re always asleep just after dusk.”

“True, true.” Tresk nodded, pursing her scaly lips. “But one can dream.”

Aarok organized the first watch for the night, creating temporary companies and units. Theo, Tresk, Rowan, and Sarisa were placed in the same unit. They were in charge of patrolling the wall. Alex was in a group all her own, tasked with flying over the town and providing much-needed intelligence. They had even commandeered the train to run patrols between the three towns. The alchemist wasn’t sure how they would spot anything in pitch black, going mach one.

Before heading off for their assigned posts, Aarok had the adventurers meet in the town square. Theo had a snide thought about that. Adventurers. The Adventurer’s Guild was still calling itself that, but it had become something else entirely. A military force. Although it was defensive, it was still a military. And the half-ogre commander loved playing the part of the wise general. He gave a speech about the importance of the operation. How the lives of everyone depended on their actions. He had the attention of the rowdy folks for about a minute before they lost interest.

Tresk was the unit commander, and was quick to throw around orders. It boiled down to marching along the wall as a group. Nothing fancy.

Ooo, I can see a lot at night. I want to fly at night more often, Alex said, speaking into Theo and Tresk’s minds.

Theo got a sense for what the goose could see. Through their bond, he could see flashes of Broken Tusk from the air. Lights shone in the darkness, tracing a path along the wall. She had already watched the elven ships set up on an island, making repairs. Her orders were strict. No interaction.

Twilight settled in over the town, plunging it into a deep darkness. Theo followed behind Tresk, carving intricate patterns into wolf teeth. The marshling wasn’t happy that he didn’t take his job seriously, but the alchemist shrugged it off. Sarisa and Rowan were there—they would spot anything before he did.

There were a few refugees wandering around the town. Escorted by the original refugees of Broken Tusk, they were taking in the sights and sounds of the silent town. They kept their voices low, and their eyes cast at the ground. Occasionally, they would raise their heads to look up to the sky. Maybe Tarantham’s policy of exterminating fallen houses wasn’t a good thing.

The group ran into another patrol. Tresk went into full military mode, giving a swift report before performing a strange salute. After the first few rounds on the walls, she led them down into the town. They searched around the areas where the new elves were staying, making sure everyone was in bed. The marshling asked brief questions of the folks who were out walking the town. Their responses all lined up with the idea of being cooped up in a cave for years, or a stir-crazy feeling that came from boarding the Wavecrest.

There were a few monster attacks from the [River Dungeon] throughout the night. Xol’sa had wanted to instigate a dungeon wave, but they had to put it off for a few days. Now the monsters inside had grown restless, and were overflowing into the river. While it was problematic, it was nothing the towers on the walls couldn’t handle.

Throk had perfected an interesting addition to the town’s defenses. A series of tubes snaked their way through the town, attached to each tower. A person only needed to fill a hopper with motes, and the power would be delivered with ease. Theo wanted something like he had in Tero’gal, where power was gathered and distributed automagically. Unfortunately, things didn’t work that way on the mortal plane. They had to do everything manually here, which was a pain.

“Woohoo!” Tresk shouted, pumping her fist.

A tower had just zapped a group of fald emerging from the river. They sizzled for a moment before falling back into the river. Theo chuckled, leaning over the wall. The night patrol wasn’t that bad. It reminded him of when he wandered off in Tero’gal, and no one came to bother him. The sound of swamp insects singing their song overshadowed any conversation. Everyone was content to keep their thoughts to quick bursts, rather than drawn-out things.

“I can’t wait to ride that thing,” Rowan said, gesturing into the distance. A streak of light raced in the distance.

“I’d rather not.” Even under the dim light of a torch, she looked pale. “That thing is too fast.”

“Oh, it is.” Theo laughed. “Throk made me ride that thing. Zipped all the way to Gronro in about a half-hour.”

“Seriously?” Rowan asked. “Gods, that’s so fast.”

“Do you remember walking to Rivers when we were kids?” Sarisa elbowed her brother, then giggled.

“Took us the whole day if we hitched a ride. They made us sleep outside the walls. Just two dirty little urchins.”

Tresk shrugged. “I don’t really remember you two growing up.”

“Cause your dad kept you cloistered in his shop. That’s why you’re so weird.” Rowan grinned.

“I’m not weird. You are.”

“I really thought we were the last generation of Broken Tuskers.” Sarisa had a sad smile on her face. “Now look at us. Taking on the world.”

“Felt like we were taking on the world back then,” Rowan said. “Do you remember that one time… What was Banu’s dad’s name? I can’t remember.”

“The old half-ogre farmer?” Sarisa asked. “I can’t remember either.”

“Anyway, we got into his vegetable garden. The old man always grew vegetables. ‘From the homeland,’ he’d always say. Remember how we stole that ogre pumpkin?”

Sarisa grimaced. “Do you remember how long I was in bed? Waiting for my arm and leg to heal?”

Rowan laughed. “Oh, I remember. I had to carry you to the chamber pot so you could…”

“Yep! I remember, too!” Sarisa interrupted, clapping a hand over Rowan’s mouth.

“You guys have so many stories,” Theo said, shaking his head. “I’m always thinking about that. How many little stories get lost because we don’t write them down.”

“Feeling homesick?” Sarisa asked.

“Don’t ask him.” Tersk scoffed. “He had a horrible childhood. Sold into slavery.”

“It wasn’t slavery.”

“Okay, uh…” Tresk cleared his throat. “His dad died, so his mom signed him up to some super secret military group. They brainwashed him and sent him to be a child soldier.”

“I was a spy.”

“A spy that killed people.”

Rowan and Sarisa shifted uncomfortably. Theo shook his head.

“That’s all done. My world was dying before I was born. We just had a good time while we could. Nothing more. But this world? It has a chance. We have a chance to turn it into something better.”

“At what cost?” Tresk asked. “You think Khahar and Fenian’s plan is gonna work?”

“It already is. Isn’t it? They’re changing the monitor system.”

“How far does that go? By the end, we’re gonna have a totally different system down here on Planet Mortal.”

“Yeah. The way it was meant to be before the first beings messed everything up.”

Sarisa cleared her throat. “So, anyway. About that pumpkin…”