A wall of cloud rolled and boiled against clear, calm air. On all sides of this open patch of ground, the swirling storm roared and danced like giant wolves circling a night fire, snatching and diving against this column of peace at the storm’s center.

Three mounts strode out of the storm of poisoned air and ripping sand. They seemed to materialize and plod with slow mechanical rhythm into the clearing. Each carried a rider, and their long cloaks, torn sideways in this hurricane, settled around them as their mounts strode in the sudden calm. A fourth horse, lashed with packs, plodded out of the storm wall behind them and once it was clear, the riders halted. The horses' metal surfaces cracked and glimmered where ice sheets had formed between the armoured plates. They were rare clockworks modelled eons ago after large draught-type horses with sturdy legs, thick necks and protective armoured greaves for stirrups. The hum of clockwork gearing descended into a deeper register as the internal mechanics wound down in the core of each mount. Finally away from the constant onslaught of the torrential wind, each rider relaxed and stretched. The lead figure, a large man, leaned back in his saddle to look straight up into the clear sky. As far up as he could see, the core of calm air pushed out against the surrounding blackness to appear as a slightly bent column.

All three riders wore filter masks across their jawlines that extended up into the visors of their helms. The translucent shielding across their eyes flickered. Reaching up with a black gauntlet, the lead man tore his mask away and inhaled. The two others watched. After a pause, he turned and nodded, and they pulled away their depleted masks and threw them into the mix of ice melt at the horses’ feet.

The three men wore identical uniforms. They unclipped their long, heavy riding cloaks and draped them behind their saddles to drip with snow and ice. Underneath they wore leather brigandine armour and short capes. The lead man had a two-piece lance sheathed on his back.

The lead man dismounted and as he straightened, beat the remaining sand away from the folds in his armour. As he paced about the clearing, he removed a gauntlet then crouched to touch some of the melting ice. The other two dismounted. One was a small, slight man with a junior command ridge on his helm. He studied a small orb as if it were a compass as it glowed with a faint white light. He wore expensive, delicate weapons. A light flintlock pistol tucked under his cape, and a slender sabre on a hip. His boots were tall and black and recently made of fine leather. The man who had been leading the pack horse had a stocky bulk wrapped in battle-worn armour and he wore a heavy crossbow across his back.

“Will it last, Watcher?” this last man asked in a gruff voice. The lead man looked up and nodded. These two were older men—old enough to have been fathers to the smaller man with the orb, who now spoke with a chastising tone.

“Warrant. I must insist that you address that man by his rank. He is a lancer, is he not?” His voice was light with an affected, pious tone that always sounded more like a whine.

The stout man dipped his head. “Of course he is, Sir.”

“I thought so. I did quite well in my component of ‘military structure,’ Warrant.” The young man watched the orb’s surface swirl with twists and ebbs that were a miniature copy of the storm around them. “Actually, I’ve done quite well in all of my component studies as an Optio.”

The cloud wall boiled and rumbled around them, but the sound was quiet, muffled, somehow distent here in this clearing. Not nearly as loud as one would expect while standing in the eye of a hurricane.

“Are you seeing anything, Sir? In the crystal ball, Sir?” the warrant asked, attempting to change the subject.

“Now Warrant! Your terminology makes you sound absolutely ancient. As I have said before, it is an optical sensor! We are not old sooth-seer women out here following a crystal ball, tea leaves and moon sign, are we?”

“The crystal looks…, dim, Sir, is all.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right in that Warrant. But not to worry. I am well trained in the Councillors' teachings. And now, right away, if you will be so kind, one of the metal ribbons will fix it up. We need to reestablish contact. I wish for you to deploy one now. Do you remember how I instructed you?”

“Of course, Sir,” the warrant said as he lifted the flap on one of his saddlebags. The horse was still powering down, and its neck began to sag into a low arch, its muzzle drooping to settle into the sand. All the horses were entering a deep recharge cycle.

“Just make sure it is staked properly. This is quite the blowup, and we don’t want to have it torn away and lost.”

“Of course, Sir. Quite right, Sir.”

Not taking his gaze off the orb, the young man nodded absentmindedly at the warrant’s reply. The older man’s sarcastic tone was lost on the young officer.

The warrant took a fine metal spool from his saddlebag and, walking clear of the horses, plunged it into the sand with a crossbow bolt. The young officer walked away with his orb to the center of the clearing.

The Warrant spoke quietly to the big man, “How long will this eye keep before it completely collapses in on us?”

The big man gazed straight up above them again and studied the twisting column of clear air. He gave a sour look and wiggled his fingers. “Ah, I see. Long enough to get warm but not dry, purify some water, eat…, and then die. Well, at least I won’t die hungry. A bad death that, to die hungry. And damn I’m hungry. So not all bad, eh?”

The big man gave a grunt of acquiescence.

“I’ve checked the Optio’s pack. He didn’t bring any more kits. So what we had was the last of them. This damn fool has led us to our deaths following that damn orb of his. That storm air was almost straight poison. Unless the air changes, and I doubt that very much, we are away too far and gone to ever return without any rebreather masks. We’ll just have to ride back for as long as we can till we can't breathe.”

The big man gave a sad nod.

“Sorry for bringing you in, Watcher, but I thought your weather sense would help us avoid exactly what this zealot has led us into. Didn’t like the look of him as soon as he rode into camp last week. All full of his councillor’s bull shit. I should have followed him out for a piss one night, tripped him into a dark hole and that would have been the last of him. We could have avoided this mess we're in now. I really am sorry, Watcher.”

The big man looked up, made a series of hand signals and shook his head disparagingly.

“Yes. They have been growing stronger for some time now, making it more difficult for you to find your way around them. Ever since they have been pulling the towers down the world’s edge has been closing in.”

“Quit chatting, Warrant, and deploy that ribbon!” The Optio called. “I’m sure an update on the storm would be in all our interests, would it not!”

The warrant finished the next up in the same hushed tones, “At least we’ll be taking him with us,” and then loudly said, “Of course, Sir. Sorry, Sir. Storm update! Nothing like it. Marvellous, Sir!”

“Of course, Warrant. Please show some haste if you would.”

The Warrant stooped to the spool and tugged free a loose end of metal ribbon and fixed that to the fletching of a loaded crossbow bolt. Making sure the ribbon would run free and not catch his weapon or armour, he fired into the sky. The bolt streaked off into the clouds, trailing a metal ribbon that gave off the eerie howl of a telegraph wire in the wind. The spool danced and cavorted as it spun in a blur until it snapped to a stop, the wire taught like a fishing line - a tight silver thread that disappeared into the cloud.

The warrant lifted a cupped hand to his brow and studied the line, “It’s working, Sir?”

“Yes Warrant. The signal strength is increasing. I couldn’t agree with you more, Warrant. Simply marvellous.” The young man said still studying the orb. “What a spectacular mind our great leader has to be able to unlock these technologies for us.” He continued, “It is my great ambition to study under him one day. Once I prove my worth to him, I intend to apply for transfer into the new Tech Officer Corps he is forming. He is only taking the brightest minds, of course, Warrant. That’s why my studies are so important to me.”

“Of course, Sir.” He replied, glancing again at their depleted med kit masks lying in the muck.

“Please start the fire, Warrant. I don’t know what all this dallying is about. I’m out of fresh water. We need the purification equipment set up. Get that Lancer on the cauldron and shovel. We might as well be comfortable. I think we’re going to be here for a while.”

“Yes, Sir. At least we’ll get some grub into us.”

“Now that’s the spirit Warrant! Once you’re done your work, you may join me at the fire.”

The lancer stood, shaking his head at the warrant, and went to the pack horse, unlashed a large cauldron, and lowered it to the ground with a grunt. Beside it, he dropped a shovel and a collection of steel rods. He lugged the cauldron to where the young officer sat, had the tripod built quickly, and began shovelling the mix of ground melt and sand out of the largest puddles into the cauldron. While he did this, the warrant broke open two flares, dropped them underneath the cauldron, and hauled the purifier from the pack horse and layed it into the cauldron.

The warrant glanced to Watcher as they both settled down by the warmth of the fire. “I do want to ensure that you now believe we have finally come far enough on this patrol.” The warrant said.

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“Yes Warrant. Time to turn back now. I think we have learned everything we can.”

“That’s good to hear, at least, Sir.”

“… but it seems I’m not getting a good map update. It’s really not showing any forecasted resolution to this storm around us.”

Another glance between the two older men. “We don’t need your crystal ball to tell us this storm will not let up anytime soon. Watcher here says you’ve led us beyond the barrier of the World’s Edge.”

“As I have already said, an optical orb or sensor is the preferred educated terminology, and that man is a Lancer. Best to keep the ranks separate, Warrant. If you continue to behave like this, naming a dumb mute, I will have to file a report when we return. We don’t do names in The People’s Army.”

“Of course, Sir. I very much doubt that report will be filed. We are out of med kits. And do you know why?”

“What exactly do you want information on, Warrant? Why are we out of med kits? Or why the report will be filed regardless of what you think? If you expect me to properly deal with inquiries, then they must be asked clearly and concisely. Really, Warrant! I told your troop to select me the most senior experienced wide rangers, and here you act like children.”

“Why they called him Watcher, Sir, because he watched. He always watched…” The big man rose and left the fire. The warrant waited for him to go. “And a few things have him bothered.”

“Please humour me, Warrant. I might as well ask you to do so because, based on your tone, I feel that I’m going to hear this lecture anyway, so I might as well pretend that I’ve requested it.”

“Watcher and I joined the Peoples Army from our village at the same time. They sent us together as young men; we were really nothing but boys then. But they wanted someone to go with Watcher. See, he was intent on going to join. To be honest, myself, I was not eager. That village, they found us two boys. We were from a Wayfarer tribe set on by Reavers, and by the villagers saw the smoke and got there it were only us two left. They took us into their village. A village not much more than a jumble of rock in a sheltered crevasse just large enough to support a scattering of families. We grew as brothers, Watcher and I, and Watcher never spoke. But he watched. He could feel things coming from far off. He doesn’t have the red eye, but we always thought he was a seer. He could only see one thing, though, weather, and far-sighted in that. He’s strong, thoughtful, considerate, tougher than most, and has a way of feeling the weather, and we have always been companions. I have great respect for Watcher. I asked him to come with me on this patrol when you made it clear what you intended. His help was supposed to give us a better chance of returning… But he says this storm won’t end, because the World’s Edge is moving in, and you have led us out past it. Nothing is out here but us and death. Soon the only thing standing here will be those damn horses. A shame that. They’re a rare thing now…”

“Hello there at the fire!” a gruff voice called out of the storm. The warrant and Optio both shot to their feet. The Optio tucked the orb away and drew his pistol.

“Seems you have been interrupted, Warrant. Please do go on. You were right at the part about the only things out here being us and death.

“Friend or Foe?” the warrant called back.

“Friend. Myself only one. It’s just me here. No need to be alarmed. I saw your fire. I have been sent to deliver a package from the Pirate King. May I come closer?”

“Advance one to be recognized!” The warrant responded.

“Ok. It is only me. I’m coming in slowly.” They watched as a shadow of a shape with raised hands began to materialize out of the storm wall.

The young officer fired his pistol.

The Warrant struck at the gun too late. They saw the shadow twist, but it did not fall.

“Warrant!” the young man hissed, “I’ll have you know it is unlawful to strike an officer!”

“Do not fire!” The gruff voice called as it put its hands back in the air. “I have a package for the Councillor from the Pirate King! No more shooting!”

“There will be no more firing!” The warrant glanced at the optio to make sure he was not reloading the flintlock pistol.

The shape started walking toward them once again. The big lancer backed away as the shape approached.

“Lancer, ready your charge point.” After a subtle nod from the Warrant, Watcher drew the top half of the heavy lance from this back scabbard and twisted the hilt to charge it.

The man approaching them was tall and thin; broad shoulders over an emaciated body. He was covered in hide wrappings. Even his face was swaddled. As he neared, the old soldier could see where the ball had pierced his shoulder; green ichor blood ran there. The Warrant searched for the eyes in the bandages for a hint of skin and found what he expected. Few things could walk out of a poison storm. The man reached under his hood to pull down the scarf to reveal a scaled hide, cavernous eye sockets set with slit pupil eyes and a mouth with canine tusks.

“A lizard man.” He said reflexively.

“Yes. Now, no sudden movements, I’m just going to unshoulder my pack…, OK?” He said to the Warrant, who assented with a nod.” The lizard man spoke in a gravelly, nearly choked-off way.

He unslung a tall wicker pack and placed it on the sand between them. “First off, you should be needing…” not removing his eyes from the men or his weapons, he slowly lifted the basket lid and took out a handful of flat tec packages, “these?”

“Rebreather med packs. Old ones.” The Warrant said.

“Four. The old type, yes. But they still work. Should be more than enough to get you all back south out of this maelstrom. You’ll be dead without them.” He tossed them on the ground at the Optio’s feet.

“Greatly appreciated. We thank you.” Said the Warrant, with evident relief in his voice.

“Ah, don’t thank me. You owe your thanks to the one who sent me. The Pirate King.”

“But these are incredibly expensive.”

The lizard man chuckled, “Don’t worry,” He said. “I’ll be sure to up my delivery cost for them. I’ll make sure I’m more than fully reimbursed. You seem to have lost your way, come too far in past the World’s End. Just lucky I have them.”

“We will have clean water soon. You could drink and join our fire. Warm yourself. It is cold here.”

“No, thank you. I have been so long without food or water in this cold I have entered my hibernation phase. It would be bad for me to take on warmth or sustenance at this time. And I must return, so I must decline. But I do thank you otherwise, Warrant.”

“You are an obstinate fool. I no way are we lost.” The optio seemed to have found his voice, and it was an angry one.

“Right then,” The lizard man replied, “Not lost. You can still keep the rebreathers.”

“You have not given them to us. We are simply keeping them. Along with everything else you possess. You will not be permitted to leave.” The Optio said.

“Sir. This is not…”

“You will hold your tongue, Warrant. As I said, you will stay with us, return to our camp, and be offered the opportunity to serve The People.”

The lizard man stopped looking at the young man once he began his tirade and, instead, turned to continue speaking to the Warrant. He acted as if the young officer wasn’t even there.

“Now, this package.” He reached into the basket, moved the rags, lifted a small girl from inside and set her on the ground. She wore a rough spun smock dress that left her arms and feet bare. She stood in the melting ice and snow and stared up at the dark-clad soldiers.

The men stared back at her in amazement. Her long, black hair seemed to be arranged in thick, loose coils. Her skin was grey, and her eyes and nose were sharp over an angled jaw. A metal lock bound her wrists.

“The package. A gift from the Pirate King to the Councillor. He hopes it will go a long way to mend the rift between them. The Councillor has written him extensively in the past asking for any beasts that could be caught and provided for research.” The man handed a smooth brown stone to the Warrant, who looked at it quizzically.

“She is wearing a smart lock with a disguised key. Just touch the stone to the handcuffs, and they will bind or unbind. Be sure to keep that key a secret. And don’t dare free her cuffs unless she is in a sturdy cage.”

“I’ll take it.” The Optio plucked up the stone.

“And your title, Sir?”

“Why?”

“For the Pirate King. So he knows who I delivered his package to, so they may be held accountable, and I may get my pay.”

“Junior Optio assigned to the fifth cohort of the north, deep patrol.”

“Very good. Now, she could use some water. Neither of us has had a sip for weeks. She can drink the brackish, but the clean tastes much nicer.” He looked down at the girl and gave her head a rub. “Now you be good!” He said and gave her a smile. She looked up at him with a scowl.”

“What are we to do with her?” The Warrant asked.

“She is to be used as a Badger.” The lizard replied. “You are not to kill her outright. The Councillor has been requesting beasts for his men to train against. This is one of those.”

“You are not leaving, beast. I have already ordered that you are to return with us.” The Optio said as the lizard man turned to walk away.

“I emphasize for you the Pirate King insists that she not be killed or dissected.” He said as he withdrew. “There is a written agreement that she is to be enslaved as a Badger to your troops. Be very careful with her. She is far more dangerous than she looks.”

The lizard man continued his walk towards the storm wall.

“You do not dictate to the Optio of the black corps!” the young man yelled. “We do what we want! And you will halt right where you are, or you will be fired upon!”

The lizard man turned to speak. “A gift from the Pirate King. Return to your camp with those med kits I gave you, and contact the Councillor. You will see it is all in order!”

“Damn it, Warrant. Why have you failed to fire? He is not permitted to leave!”

“He is acting on behalf of the Pirate King. This would give him status as a protected envoy. He is also a lizard man. So he commands respect, and I also regard what he is capable of. He is a lizard man, and there are only three of us. You are too young. You have never seen one of those things kill before. I have. They walk through men as if they were children for slaughter.”

“I don’t care if he’s the damn Pirate King himself. You will put a bolt into him, and he’ll be enslaved and return with us to our camp, or I’ll have you whipped!”

“Right, Sir. Of course, Sir. Once again, I’m staggered by your wisdom.”

The Warrant pulled the heavy crossbow from his back, notched a bolt, raised, and fired. It may have been the unpredictable air currents as the lizard man drew close to the edge of the storm, or it may have been that the Warrant pulled his shot, but either way, the bolt flashed towards the beast that seemed to rise at the last moment. The lizard's hand went up and clasped onto the bolt as it neared his shoulder.

He came back towards the men, not easy and friendly this time, but with strides of anger and purpose. He moved quickly, quicker than a man. His movement was now filled with an unnatural strength, a demon quickness far too fast and fluid like a nightmare.

As he drew up close in front of the men, the optio yelled, “Lancer!” The big man plunged forward with the charged lance. The lizard man grasped and stopped it with one hand. The blue arc charge traced across his arm and up his shoulder for a moment before the lance was snapped in half, and the tip was dropped into the sand along with the crossbow bolt.

The optio drew his sabre and the lizard man paused to watch what he would do with it. The optio thrust it at his midsection, point firs. The lizard grabbed and held the bare blade. The Optio struggled and tried to free the sabre, but the beast held it fast and unmoving.

“What you have brought us is a gargoyle cub!” The Optio exclaimed as he struggled with his sword, “To be exterminated on sight!” He grunted and twisted, and the lizard man stood still, unmoving, and held the blade in a fist.

The lizard man leaned in, his face and his tusks close to the young man. “If she were to be killed, the Pirate King would have done it himself, but these things are rare now, and we were told to deliver it alive as a Badger to your troops. If you break this deal with the Pirate King, I will hunt all three of you down and pull your guts out while you watch. Also, in no way will I allow you to prevent my return to him. You are to take this package, and return to camp. Is there anything else you may be confused about, Junior?

The officer tried one more time to wrench his sword blade from the lizard man’s grip, paused, and then shook his head ‘no.’