Eodem: a Rifle and Sword Adventure - Chapter 43

A gathering of some of the Federation’s best personnel in Gliesia was formed by the briefing room of the New Albany Spaceport meant for Pirates pre-deployment. Ironically the only Pilot inside the room being briefed was Captain Kaprelian, known as Pegasus 3-5 whose aeronautical proficiency with her Super Osprey will be needed. There is also Stryder Group, a SEAL Team called ‘Scalpel Team’, a smaller squad of Aparo-payroll PMC’s from the Silverback Securities, half-a-dozen of Scientists, Doctor Mahelona, Lutheor Mirrien and lastly the director of this operation, Bureau of Intelligence Agent Gary De Sardet.

This upcoming operation, launching the day after would, for some of the people the room, be the most politically s.e.n.s.i.t.i.v.e mission of their lives. Lutheor Mirrien knew that the Moguls have gone too far with the enactment of conscripting the feeble families of Miners and any able-bodied Dwarf to work in the hot and dark conditions of the Dwarves infamous Deep Mines. For the Mines lay host to a variety of hazards such as Geomantic Accidents, underground Fiends and the accidental flooding of unearthing some long forgotten buried curses hidden beneath the Ostalrocs. He and several of his kind tried to put a stop to such destructive practices with limited success but now, it’s either the collapse of Dwarfen society, culture and livelihood as they know it or the beginning of a new era for the Ostalrocii. For Agent Gary De Sardet, his reasons are of a noble but intrinsically selfish reason, he is loyal to the UFE State by default and he will see to it that the Federation fully encircle all of Gliesia with its many appendages attached to every facet of this ‘Fantasy’ world’s being if it further pushes what the potential of Gliesia can bestow upon all of the rest of Earthling-kind. This venture was risky as it could mean the loss of not only him but several of the UFE’s best assets and some political capital for the Party if this clandestine operation of subverting this brewing unrest in the Dwarven Mountains into the Federation’s… and ultimately the Party’s ends too, failed. Yet the payoff if operation succeeds would give the Federation in Gliesia a significant strategic advantage. For Stryder Group, the mission was just following orders albeit with reservations from the more greened individuals like Samantha, Aliathra, Kayin and Clay who were given their first Black Operations quite early in their careers. It was the most abnormal of circ.u.mstances for the younger ones as they focused, they’re at Agent De Sardet and Lutheor Mirrien as they speak.

“In order to flip the Ostalrocs blue, we need to target not only give this revolution of theirs more momentum and support but also elminate key infrastructure and personnel.” De Sardet demonstrated. “First business is to gain momentum for the revolt and a revolt is nothing without people getting angry.”

“Mogul Dolmond, ruler of Kur Faldhur has been forcefully recruiting and enslaving many Terrace Dwarves to toil tirelessly at the Mines. If we can intercept the Slave Caravans we can turn those people against him by rallying their support and denying them their labor.” Lutheor said.

“What kind of people works for Dolmond?” asked Kayin.

“The Hold Dwarves lords over my Terrace living kin with the power of their Geomancers, Enchanted Weapon vaults, and well-trained Army of twenty thousand warriors in each Hold plus the aforementioned wealth they earn from the mines.” Mirrien gave his insight. “Within the Hold Army, there are the elite Ever-Beards and the Sting Eyes. Ever Beards are elite front-line soldiers who personally protect the Hold Mogul’s with their lives. They have reputations of fighting untill the last man without retreat. The Sting Eyes in the other hand are venerable skirmishers whose crossbows are famous for piercing the toughest armor and shooting the furthest away in all of Ysanigrad. For our revolution to have a chance we need to thin them out before we can assault Mogul Dolmond directly.”

“Speaking about our opposition, another problème is the warbeasts that the Hold Dwarves also happen to domesticate and breed such as Pegasi, Griffins and War Rams. They are native to the local mountainous regions and the former two are often bred and sold enmasse to the Empire. As for these War Rams… they are the ‘Cavalry’ of the Dwavers, small but very stubborn and… well… rammy.” De Sardet added.

“What of the people were supposed to be helping? Who are they exactly?” Crocker raised his hands.

“Shepherds, Miners and members of the regular army as Bondsmen who devote their time to serve as Guards to fight off against wild monsters and beasts.” Mirrien said.

“Yeah this is a tall order.” Crocker sneered his teeth. The odds were not stacked in favor of this rebellion.

“What of the Weapons Vaults? You say they got weapons that are special how? Would they be enough?” Diaz asked.

“I believe so. The weapons were made by the Blacksmiths to be used for the Mogul’s Army, specifically the Ever-Beards and Sting Eyes.” Mirrien c.a.r.e.s.sed his chin on the thought. “They are however locked with a special Rune Key that only three people can place a top three special locks to open. And even then, each Rune has to be inserted to its slot simultaneously.”

“Ha! Challenge accepted. Tell me who to rob and I get them open for ya.” Diaz kicked his feet up on a pile of boxes and breezily leaned back with confidence.

“C’est l’idée!” De Sardet smiled.

“The rebellion itself has to be given momentum too and the people, the Terrace Dwarves will flock to our banner.” Mirrien heart skipped a beat. “We will have to stop the press-ganging then halt the Mining Operations further in order to get my kin to rise up against their overlords.”

“Well as soon as we touchdown on Nirnkarim you can consider it done. You just coordinate your people in your end to do the actual work.” De Sardet swore.

“The Mining Guilds will do everything they can to see the Ostalrocs dawn a new future Earthling. Just you wait.” Mirrien cheered.

“One final note before we go, this Operation will see the field testing of Asset: Le Fay, that is Lieutenant Samantha Rose’s Hecate Suit. I believe the good Doctor already gave you a list of all the things he wants to see be done with your powers now being enhanced by the suit n’est-ce pas?” De Sardet turned his head to the left and asked Samantha.”

“Yes, the Hecate Suit.” Samantha nodded upon the reminder.

Doctor Mahelona had given her a to-do list attached to her Smartphone of a series of tasks she has to test out whilst wearing her new suit. These actions ranged from performing a wide arrange of different spells under Iris and Aliathra’s tutelage, test out the Suit’s combat capabilities by engaging an Opfor within the Mission Area and trying to cast a variety of new kinds of magical spells if possible.

Based on what she could understand underneath all the scientific malarkey by Doctor Mahelona. The Suit allows her to controllably collect, store and discharge Unbinilium energies thanks to some Neurological links surgically attached onto her body that is tailored made for the Hecate Suit called ‘Arcane Meridian Implants’ attached across Sam’s palms, legs, back and abdomen. A significant amount of the research involved to make this new technology possible was contributed by Iris and Aliathra’s help when it comes to the application of the Arcane Meridian Implants. Additional features included a built-in computer connected to ISAC that not only monitors all that Mana energy stored and being dispersed out of the suit but allows Samantha to scan the Mana energies of sources and vessels such as Crystal Ores and other Mages. She can also tap into High Command’s communication feeds and ISAC to relay vital intelligence such as maps, vocal instruction and etcetera. ISAC can also assist in battle or any other dangerous situations, especially against other Mages, by suggesting the most advantageous course of action for the situation. The Spell Database however, are still in the works at the moment as it needed more expansion in which it is Stryder and other SOG Recon Teams job is to locate, secure and research such paraphernalia.

“May I ask El-tee? How can you not explode by the way? Do you just fart out all that extra gas?” Diaz crudely asked his question.

There were a few childish laughs followed by a few beleaguered m.o.a.ns over the question.

“Oh, you again…” Samantha facepalmed.

“I can explain this one Lieutenant.” David intervened. “The way I did it for the suit… in Layman’s terms: is called simply ‘the Cool-Down Protocol’. The Ghyranite within the suit will dilute the excessive mana energy to be safely disperse out of her body upon reaching a critical point with a static discharge of Unbinilium Energies.” The Chief scientist explained.

“Anything more?” Crocker asked further.

“Oh yes! I do.” David smiled. “It’s still experimental but based on what me and that little voice thing in my head says… I mean based on our understanding of Alteration Magicks, the Hecate suit can to a degree adapt— self-transmute to any new meta-physical conditions I have when I cast spells. Cast a Fire-ball the suit switches polarities to better suit the fire. Or maybe you need to stop the fire from burning you? The suit would burst out some ice water to extinguish the flames as a countermeasure.” The Doctor answered.

“Explain Doctor?” One of the SEALS asked.

“It is supposed to make shooting out multiple spells and resisting certain spell of differing Magicks kind safer and easier to do. According to my research, most mages powers end the Schools of Magicks they can learn depends on their personality. For example, mages with a penchant for Destruction are passionate and love to take direct control whilst Illusionists are cunning people who would love to manipulate people. I also found out that when they do a spell from a form of Magic they are not proficient in, they exhaust their mana reserves more and may even hurt their bodies if not careful, that’s why most mages stick to one or two categories of Magicks, three in the case for Elves.” David pointed to Aliathra who sat quietly observing with her legs crossed poshly.

“You are on-par with the Archmages of Parvia La—Sam…Samantha. My Father is one of them. Do not take this comparison lightly.” Aliathra commented. She stopped herself to speak that social distance between an Elf and a human now that she is considered an Ebrath, a friend.

“Essentially adaptation through mimicry. Smart” De Sardet smiled.

“Of course, but again, ‘experimental’. The feature is a drain in the Suit’s power so I equipped the suit to manually turn the feature on-or-off depending on the situation. There’s also a bunch of other stuff here I am only authorized to explain to Lieutenant Rose and the other Scientists about the Hecate Suit.” David cautioned.

“Anyways most of Samantha’s suits are still experimental but it is the hope that Samantha can when she is deployed to the Ostalrocs can perform some field tests so that me and the rest of the Science Division back here would monitor the results then improve upon the Hecate Suit with numerous updates and improvements.” Dr. Mahelona nodded.

“More improvements… I like that a lot.” Samantha smiled.

“Remember, we have to pull a lot of favors and deposits from the Party just so you can get this suit. Do not disappoint them, they are plans for additional projects with the Gliesian Minerals if the Hecate Suit shows the signs of ‘promising success’.” De Sardet reminded.

“I am sending you a list of stuff you will need to do to test out every limit the Hecate Suit you need to perform. The Data will be sent off back to us and then I will tell you what kind of goodies the engineers can do. Be also on the lookout for any additional research materials while you are there in the Ostalrocs, such as Magic Scrolls, ruins or any more Unbinillium crystals you name it.” David further added.

“If that is all well in done then Meeting Dismissed. We all meet up at Captain Kaprelian’s Super Osprey in as soon as Dawn breaks tomorrow.” Agent De Sardet concluded the meeting.

Every one of the people involved in the operation stood up and left, except for one Obediah Root who remained quietly sitting at his chair holding his Sniper Rifle, named after his late wife whilst grasping its hybrid wood and metal frame firmly with a vengeful intent that quaked the Hunting Rifle obsessively.

The Elf, concerningly tapped Samantha as she guided her to the squad’s now darkened and brooding Sharpshooter whose warm bearded smile faded into a shadowy grimace of obsessive inhalation.

Turning around just as she was about to leave, Samantha tactfully walked back inside the briefing room so she can sit down by Obediah’s side.

“Obed, if you’re not up to it I can tell Polonsky right no—” Samantha attempted to offer Obediah a way out, sensing that he may not be right in the head.

“No! N-No… I am okay… I am just focused… in thought… yeah.” Obediah answered.

“Look Obed, we know what happened to Leah and April and we are here for you. If you want you can sit this out and spend some time with your daughter at the hospital if you want.” Samantha proposed.

“Th-there is no need Lieutenant, I am fine. I already went to the Hospital…” Obediah said.

“I was there too but you barely spent any time with April. You went straight to the cemetery.” Aliathra said.

“Cemetery? You mean ‘the Morgue’ Alie.” Obediah corrected.

“What were you doing there?” Samantha asked.

“I saw… and… I participated in the… dissection of that bitch who killed Leah.” Obediah said.

“You dissected that bitch Lyndis? Wh-why?” Samantha recoiled on the hearing of his testimony.

“For release, I wanted to see it all with her dead eyes looking at all what is being taken away from her that she holds dear…” Obediah swore as his hands reverberated angrily upon reminiscing the incision, he made to remove the Elven Spy’s body organs out. He raised his hand and curled his fingers closed in a crushing motion to the unnerving of the Lieutenant.

“The Doctors showed to me what was left of my old classmate before Obediah could get his hands on them. He was angry as I am, I admit. Like a rabid wolf.” Aliathra said. “We must end this pointless war before all truly becomes lost by any means necessary.” The Elf reminded.

“When we get to Haringpoint El-tee I will tear every brick of that disgusting city to the ground and make them see what it all feels like to lose something they love. Justice I tell you, for Great Justice I will…” Obed lashed his teeth to a grind.

Samantha could sense now that the two kindest souls in her squad have started to become hardened as time passes on their service to the UFEAF. No longer were Obediah and Aliathra the naïve and green recruits of before. Looking into their eyes, each of them bore down two distinct but ultimately aligned focuses that mirror of what had happened to them. Obediah’s personal stake now in this war will be seen through no matter what. He will follow Samantha to the ends of the world just to see his vengeance for his wife and child be fulfilled. Aliathra’s duty of self-sacrifice even in the face of such monumental odds that she is virtually alone against while noble, the reality of what depths of barbarity her people would do to fight the ‘demons’ only made them no better than the ones they are fighting, in which the Elf Princess has started to amalgamate into a creature of indefatigable efficiency akin to the unscrupulousness of Corpo Warriors such as Diaz.

“But what about your daughter, April?” Samantha asked. “Don’t you should spend just one more time for her before you leave? She needs you just as much as you need to give ‘Justice’ to those who have died?” Samantha relayed her concern to Obed.

“I-I—you’re right…” Obediah leaned down and covered his face.

“What can I do? What could I do? What-What?” he asked.

“What has happened to April after we dropped her at the Hospital?” Samantha asked.

“Catching up with her school while inside. She is sad she can’t freely run around like she always does, or meet up with her friends… whats left of them… I would say…” Obediah said.

“You think she needs some cheering up?” Samantha asked.

“Yes indeed, we can do something to lighten her spirits just before we leave for the Dwarven Mountains.” Aliathra agreed.

“But… April… she… its just… too painful to see her… like that….” Obediah hesitated.

“April is your daughter Obediah. Your child. Should you not attend to her just for one more fleeting moment?” the Elf argued.

“I-It’s not that… she… it… its about Leah… I… just seeing her reminds me of what I saw what had happened to Leah.” Obed explained.

It hit the Lieutenant and the Sharpshooter’s reluctance to see his daughter again. April shared, based on the visages of the Root parents that she shares more similarities with her mother’s hair, smile and eyes. Like a mirror to Obediah’s late-wife it was hard for him to see April again as it reminded him of the recent tragedy that befell on them. He was broken, vengeful and widowed before her upon piecing the final puzzle piece of his uncharacteristic disconnectedness.

“Obed, you know as your Commanding Officer I am always with you.” Samantha placed her hand over his shoulder tenderly. “Leah would have wanted you to take care of your little girl in her stead. She doesn’t want to see her husband not be there for her, especially if you are doing this job now to keep food on the table.” She appealed to his familial interests.

“I-I was never… the best parent… all my life I was out of the house brining home food or hunting off savage beasts. Even then my Daughter called me a ‘Hero’ for fighting all of those ‘monsters in the dark’.” Obediah confessed. “I… I need to be here for her please Lieutenant. I need to get ready for the mission, Leah must not go unavenged. Just if you want to… please visit her for me?” he requested.

Obed began to start disassembling his Sniper Rifle onto the ground floor of the briefing room to perform routine cleaning as was his locked obsession with avenging his wife.

“If it means you can come with us tomorrow with a sound mind then fine, I will visit her.” Samantha nodded.

“I love da’len; little ones. April always love to see me every time.” Aliathra lightly smiled as she agreed to accompany Samantha.

“Thank you. You have my Rifle.” Obediah smiled lightly as he continued to clean his weapons as the two girls left.

As the girls left, they passed by Iris who had just finished a rather intimate moment with Kayin.

“Samantha where are you going?” the Vampire Witch asked.

“Obed asked me and Alie to check on April tonight. You want to come?” Samantha answered.

“Hmm… well April does remind me a little bit of me to be honest.” Iris said.

“Pardon?” Aliathra asked.

“She lost her mother just as I lost my father to people who think we are all Monsters here.” Iris explained. “Unlike her, I had to face it alone. But now, she deserves some help even for just this night.”

“Welcome Aboard then.” Samantha smiled.

Aliathra has to admit, the more time she spends with Iris, the less of her monstrous side was set aside to be replaced with a much kinder soul. All she had done within and despite her presence was being helpful and amiable to everyone she meets. Were her prejudices making the Elf blind to what is truly behind the myths of bloodthirsting Sochairfuil? In a way, she was the ideal friend that Alie always wanted to have when she was still in the Academy in Parvia. Perhaps this Cadohagan wasn’t as maliciously intended in her alliance with these Otherworlders at all, but then again, wasn’t her reasons to redeem herself in front of her people somewhat or more selfish than Iris’ d.e.s.i.r.e to find a place she could truly belong too?

Leaving the Spaceport, the three young women journeyed to the New Albany Military Hospital where they passed by the many victims of the New Albany Bombings and Grey Order Raid. It had not prepared Samantha for the voluminous sight of injured men and women, Gliesian and Earthling laying side by side as their wounds were slowly yet painfully being alleviated by the UFE’s best Healthcare. In terms of manpower they were stretched thin by the sudden influx of in-patients that they have to tend to. It was a significant relief that Samantha Iris and Aliathra came today and agreed to help volunteer for a few hours at the Children’s Wards just to bypass the Visiting Hours rules being exempted for volunteers.

A good number of the kids appreciated Aliathra’s motherly presence within the Ward as she sang a few songs and used her Illusion Magicks to make dancing animals play around the room to their delight. Iris and Sam meanwhile assisted the nurses distribute Supper and the medicines for the children and assisted those that have a hard time taking the foul-tasting consumptive pills. However, not all of the children warmly greeted the two young women. Some remained locked by their heads, non-responsive to the happening of the outside world. One such young child sat atop of her bed curled into a ball not daring exposing herself to the happenings around her. It was April Root, her state a far cry to the curiosity-driven tyke that April was known for before checking in to the Hospital.

“Hello little one, it’s me your ‘Princess’.” Aliathra sat by the side edges of April’s bed as he approached his daughter for the first time after her hospitalization.

The little girl remained non-responsive to her father’s words as she continued to silently lay still on her bed, not showing her eyes despite the Elf’s prompts to pique her attention.

Aliathra noticed, to her amus.e.m.e.nt of how very record-heavy the Earthling’s Healthcare system was. Dozens upon dozens of bureaucratic work and sophisticated understanding of disease and efficiency impressed the Healing Cleric greatly. Each bed had a written piece of paper nailed to it with a sheet of plastic where it contains the patient’s name and the type of malady/-ies that got them into the hospital in the first place. Yet what was curious about April’s case was not, from her limited understanding of the Earthling Alphabet called ‘Latin’ but that she wasn’t as strikingly injured as compared to one child who had suffered severe 3rd degree burns, or a child who lost her leg. Instead, April suffered two disease, a ‘fractured arm’ likely from Lyndis’ rough handling of her and the second one however was the most alien sounding of ailments called ‘PTSD’.

“Samantha, if I may what does this word mean?” Aliathra asked the Lieutenant.

Pointing to the Medical Chart with the word’s ‘PTSD’ attached to April’s bed, Sam looked onto the chart in horror which left the Elf flabbergasted with grave concern.

“Is… April going to recover?” Iris asked.

“Not… truly…” Samantha sighed.

“What do you mean?” Aliathra asked.

“Think about what had happened earlier? Her kidnapping? The Attack? She’s barely half a decade old and she is experiencing all kinds of stuff that no child should experience.” Sam explained briefly.

“You think maybe I can heal her faster with some of my Restoration Magicks?” Aliathra proposed.

“I am afraid this time, April’s wound cannot be healed with Magicks Elf.” Samantha sadly replied.

“A wound that cannot be healed? That is impossible.” The Elf protested.

Just as they discussed down to aspects of PTSD, a nurse, being overwhelmed by the pestering children asking for her attention dropped her tray of foodstuffs meant for the children to the ground causing a loud pulsating crash that echoed the hallway of the Children’s Ward. Instantly, April recoiled with a jump from her spine upon the hearing of the crash.

April’s body balked reflexively upon her little ears hearing the loud crash before proceeding to reduce herself into a torrent of sobs just as followed by several other of those bed-locked children reel in to tears too. It was a storm of sorrows that the Children’s Ward Nurses scrambled to allay. Aliathra attempted to help by conjuring her Restoration Magicks from her hands and proceeded to attempt to pinpoint the root cause of this malady that was inflicted upon these innocent children. But as her hands graced upon each child, to Aliathra’s disorientation, her Healing Senses could not detect any form of disrepair within the children’s bodies outside of their wounds being properly healed and attended by the earlier treatments from the Ward Nurses. They were by a Cleric’s perspective, ‘Fully Healthy’. Yet they still continue to cry in an orc.h.e.s.tra of torment leaving the Elf unsure what she could do more for them all.

“I-I-I…” Aliathra stuttered. “Little Ones, stop your tears, Neneth’s… grace? I…”

The Elf’s composure crumbled as her large ears echoed the anguishes of dozens of children across the room. All of them lost something different but all equally valuable during the attacks. A home, a family member or even a part of their bodies. Such pains were miniscule now to what she had felt before. Such a pain, wound, malady or whatever this ‘PTSD’ was could not be cured by even the best of Restoration Magicks she could muster or even attempt to study to be able to cast. She was helpless yet powerful at the same time.

“Alie! This is not a normal wound.” Samantha squawked at the Elf.

“Then what can I do?! There is too much agony here?” Aliathra asked.

As they spoke, a familiar cry rung around Aliathra’s leaf-shaped ears, turning around she saw April Root crying ever the more passionately as he hands and legs flailed in torture to this strange disease.

“Little one!” Aliathra’s motherly instincts kicked in as she dashed back to April’s bed and tenderly embraced her. Wet tears stained Aliathra’s green dress as her arms cradled the child.

The Lieutenant approaches by the edges of her bed and added herself to April’s hug.

“We are here for you April.” Iris joined in.

“I know you are sad after all what happened.” Aliathra poured her heart out. “You are a sweet little bird that should be frol.i.c.k.i.n.g amongst the grass. Not sitting around here.”

“If your wings are broken, you can borrow mine. For we will be stand by you even if we are far away.” Samantha cooed.

“With all I am.” Samantha acknowledged. “And all that we are.”

For the first time after the tragedy, to the uplifted spirits of Samantha, Iris and Aliathra, April Root beamed a soft smile upon their comforting words. There was no need of any additional words as the three girls proceeded to assuage all the other children in Ward with their easing warmth. For the greatest cure that is discovered by the Healing Cleric Aliathra had just discovered, was the gift of a hand to hold them through the darkness.

———————————————————

The Ostalrocs had many sights and opportunities for verticality. Its steep slows were excellent observation nests for Samantha’s team to observe all the alpine terrain that the Dwarven Realms had to offer. If this were a simple playful tour, she would have basked upon the mountain’s fresh air. Unfortunately, this was for business and not for p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e as lives and the fate of an entire people is in the balance. Stryder Group and the other accompanying teams went to work dismantling, disrupting and destroying all the Hold Dwarves Strategic Production throughout the region. Kur Faldhur’s Mining Guild was very generous disclosing the important information that the Earthlings need to flip the tables against the Empire and their Dwarven Allies who sat decadently atop of their fortified Holds across the Mountain Range. To say there was a divide as described by Lutheor Mirrien would have revealed the limitations of spoken tongue when the Earthling looked on first-hand the disparity between Hold and Terrace Dwarves that is, to put frankly, literally divided by the Hold’s Walls. Whilst the City-livers consumed a very decadent, consumerist and manufacturing industry, the Terrace Dwarves toil the Mountain slopes to produce grains, livestock and other products that is sold to maintain their livelihoods.

In terms of Politics, the Dwarven Mountain Clans are not a united entity due to the mountains nearly obstructing roads and pathways in between the livable space in the Ostalrocs. Instead the Dwarves are divided into five Clans listed as Kur Falduhr, Tilelyuhr, Darbaddihr, Mirlarum, and Nirnkarim.

Each Hold has a localized set of laws and a leader called a Mogul that run’s the respective land by maintaining the legal courts and armed soldiers in exchange for taxes which can come in a variety of means of trade such as food, a rather complicated form of indentured servitude and most lucrative, Minerals. Theoretically, as Lutheor Mirrien explained, all the Dwarven Clan Holds are of equal political strength in the grand scheme of things within the Ostalrocs but due to how the Mineral-centric economy of Dwarven society works, Kur Faldhur, said to boast the greatest Mine in all of Gliesia was atop of the socio-political food chain able to influence and dictate the rules within and out of the Mountains. Some Holds unfortunately aren’t as blessed as the Kur Faldhur Hold and thus in practice, Mogul Dolmond is the de-facto ‘King of the Dwarves’ as treated by many Foreign Diplomats whom he had entertained by owning an oligarchic hold on the riches underneath the Ostalrocs. His power is such to an extent that he can even influence how other Holds would set their own laws and economic structure to suit his interests. He even has plans to unite the Clans into one huge Kingdom with Kur Faldhur as its epicenter. To do that however, he will need to gain legitimacy for his right to rule all of the Mountains and the Slaegian Empire are perhaps his staunc.h.e.s.t ally into seeing his ambitions come true and he is not afraid to perform underhanded tactics to achieve it. He has been going above and beyond to curry favor with the Imperial House for the past century performing very great many business deals at the cost of many upsetting the interests of the Terrace Dwarves who seek better living conditions and social-upliftment to match the lofty lives of the Hold-living Dwarves. It was in Dolmond and the Empire’s mutual interest that they get the riches of the Ostalrocs for cheap in exchange for imports and political favors from the Empire such as how the Empire so ‘amiably’ assisted in subjugating his incessant Terrace Dwarves from making up lost time after a lucrative Mineral Trade had unexpectedly gone awry.

Ever since he had decreed the ‘Vlokon Tira’ or as what the Federation calls it ‘Forced Labor Law’. The Terrace Dwarves scattered around the Ostalrocs were put into a tyrannical state of fear as Dwarven Soldiers ran across the Mountains to scr.a.p.e down to the bottom the manpower needed to harvest the precious minerals that the Empire needs for their war against ‘the Second Demon Invasion’. But all the propaganda by the shouts of fear-hawking heralds could not shake off the fact that the Dwarven Mines that became the source of all the Ostalroc’s glory. For it was also equally treacherous to enter with cases of Cave-Ins, Monster Attacks and Worker Negligence being a case-by-case normal that the Mining Guilds have to contend with. Those who resisted were made an example off via pain of death as none were spared in order to ‘persuade’ those reluctant to ‘toil for their country’. This ranges from roadside displays of crucifixions, public beatings. None were spared as all ages, genders and beard colors were deemed equal in the eyes of Dwarven Law. This didn’t help due to the Decree extended to the Families of the Miners to be press-ganged to work in the mines, regardless of s.e.x, health, age and sometimes even race just to meet the required Manpower needed to re-harvest all that Minerals that the Dwarves had lost in their trading deal with the Empire.

The disgust from Aliathra, upon one such sight of a brutalized family with children nearly stoked her into a vengeful frenzy if it were not the rational leashes of the rest of Stryder Group to focus on the mission so that they could all avenge this and all the more of the many sad tragedies that littered the blood stained Ostalrocs.

“I got my sights on the Caravan.” Clay relayed from his Drone Feed.

It was just before sunrise as the twilight passes of the Dwarven Mountains gave way to the morning sun. It was the ideal time for many logistics related caravans to move forward on their journeys without the worry of traffic and the inconvenience of darkness hindering their way. Especially for such valuable materials that is in high demand: Actocolite, Ghyranite and Scandanite.

“Okay, hit it!” Samantha gave the signal.

One of the Freedom Fighters that allied himself from one of Mirrien’s Clansmen from Nirnkarim activated a trap that let loose a trap that stream of fire that caused the yoked Oxen of the Slave Caravan carrying with them newly captured warm bodies to be delivered into the Dwarven Mines for their labor. Collaborating with the Nirnkarim Mining Guild’s and a few local sympathizers in the form of Shepherds and Herdsmen, the Federation’s Forces made quick work of the Caravan Guards before promptly releasing the slaves from their caged carriages. To Stryder Groups surprise, half of the Prisoners weren’t Dwarves from the local villages surrounding Kur Faldhur at all but instead there were what she can describe to be Beastfolk known as Daosne and Goblins in the mix too.

“We are saved!” one of the Dwarven prisoners shouted in Glee as Samantha broke of every chain on their bodies.

“Who are you people? You have their faces but you fight them!” one of the Centaur slaves, one who’s human self of the body was of a physically fit yet conventional enchanting female asked the strangers.

“A Friend.” Samantha bluntly said as she led out the Prisoners from the carriage.

One of their friendly Dwarven Allies began to unlock each of the Cages atop of the Caravans with his pick axe to free those inside. But as his eyes locked on to the Goblins and Centaur prisoners, he tapped the Lieutenant’s attention, reaching up to her hip by his squat little height about the abnormality of their appearance in the Ostalrocs.

“Those folks are not from around here.” He said.

Normally, the ‘Vlokon Tira’ Decree only applied to Dwarves yet the way how vaguely worded the law is stating ‘Able-bodied one’ rather than ‘Dwarf’ was a loophole to allow non-Dwarves to work without the expense of another Dwarven life.

“Who are you?” Samantha asked.

“You have never heard of what a Daosne is before? Typical of you Imperial folks. Our People, the Yoshadinyudi or Centaurs as you call us, are a strong and proud people who have been fighting against the you, the Slaegians for centuries. Me and many of my kin fled after one bearing the Brand of the Bane, a Chosen One, forced us to flee to the Mountains where many of them captured my kin and forced them to work in the mines.” One of the Centaurs of Amazonian physique said as she stood there on all fours with her b.a.r.e c.h.e.s.t exposed to confess her story to her rescuers as tears trickled her eyes.

“Spirits be! That also happened to Ho’don’s people too!” a Goblin raised his hand after he was set free by Crocker on a pair of meticulously crafted cuffs made of Ghyranite reserved for imprisoning Mages. By the tattoos that marked around the little humanoid’s body, Iris whispered that the Goblin must be a Shaman.

“Can you tell me who is this Chosen One?” asked Samantha as this piqued her interests and so would the Dr. Mahelona and his scientists.

“Aren’t you an Imperial? Many of the Empire speak of this ‘Crystal Heart’ choosing three Chosen Ones to fight against the coming Demonic Invasion. One of them who bares the Mark of the Bane is the evil one who killed Tribe Chieftain and massacred half of Ho’don’s village because we touch a little boy that we save from Drowning on nearby river.” The Goblin brokenly that Samantha’s translator could only define as broken grammar.

“That vile human also killed scores of my people including my little sister even after we said that we are no choice but to steal food from the Imperials as they refuse to even look at us in the eyes. Their Three Chosen Ones are no better than murderers and slavers.” The female centaur tearfully stated.

“Actually…” Samantha coughed. “Not all of them are murderers and slavers. The other two are fighting for the right cause.” The Lieutenant asserted.

“Why do you say that?” the Goblin Shaman inquires

“Because I am too a Chosen One.” Sam unveils her Mark by removing the glove of her right hand to present it to the prisoners whose eyes locked on with awe at the holy markings that authenticated Samantha’s status.

“The Mark of the Share-Holder! That is one of the other two Chosen One Brands that brat and his folks were talking about. I think they are looking for you…quite frantically I say.” The Goblin Shaman referred.

“But If you are one of the Chosen One’s, why do you fight to free us? What you are doing is against your Emperor’s will?” One of the Dwarves asked, his confusion being emitted across all the other freed prisoners.

“We are not Slaegians. Never have been, never will be.” Crocker said.

“Then are you from the Southern Tribes? If your humans but not from the Empire you are from the Southern Tribes. You are all too pale-skinned to be from the Suzerainities.” The Dwarf Prisoner asked.

“Again no. Not from there either.” Samantha answered.

“Then where are you from?” the Dwarf asked.

“How do I explain this… we… come from the Sky.” Samantha bluntly answered.

“From where exactly? The Skies are vast as many can see.” the Goblin Shaman pressed.

“Tyr Rian.” The Lieutenant replied.

“Tyr Rian? But that is where the ‘Demon Invasion’ came from!” the Dwarf twitched his nerves.

“You got that all wrong. The Empire thinks WE are the ‘Demons’.” Samantha said. “Those Empire People attacked Tyr Rian and us because they think we are trying to ‘corrupt the world’.” The Lieutenant cursed.

“You don’t look or act like the ‘Demons’ of yore.” The Centaur Warmaiden said.

“I do not see you as ‘Demons’ at all.” The Shaman informed the group. “How can the Empire say that you are ‘Demons’? You do not have their scent nor do I hear the Spirits cry from your presence.” The Shaman questions.

“That I have no idea.” Samantha shrugged as she corralled the freed prisoners together as the rest of the Dwarven Resistance Cell final checked for any more chains that will impede their journey back to Nirnkarim.

“Pah! More arrogance from the Empire once again!” the Shaman cursed. “What power did the Crystal Heart gave you Chosen One if Ho’don may ask? The Mark of the Share-Holder?” the Goblin questioned.

“I was given the power to cast Magic even if I am not of this world.” Samantha said.

“That is odd but the way the word ‘Share-Holder’ is so loosely-defined by words could mean something…more… much more. Human makes Ho’don curious about Human.” The Goblin Shaman curled his chin.

“Thank you for rescuing me. No human has ever showed kindness to our kind. By the honor of the Kvud I am forever in your debt. You have my body, heart and spear… if I had one…” the Centaur kneeled down and opened her hands in a servile gesture of reverence to her rescuers.

“Who might you two be then?” Samantha asked.

“Ho’don is the name mother bestow upon Ho’don. Ho’don is… was… Apprentice Shaman to Kal’dhirn.” The Goblin Shaman introduced himself.

“I am Kimora of the Blue Grasses. I am a Yoshadinyudi Warmaiden.” The Centaur bowed.

“You must hurry now, follow my Dwarven friends for they will take you to safety where you will be safe.” Samantha instructed.

“But I must find my tribe! They were captured too and I am separated from them.” Kimora pleaded.

“Mine too!” Ho’don added.

“You can find them later when you get to safety. It’s not safe here right now. Adgarn we move now.” Crocker ordered one of their Dwarven Allies to move out of the scene.

A rudimentary system akin to an Underground Railway for escaped slaves was organized by the Mining Guilds to guide chain-ganged workers to Nirnkarim through a network of sympathizers and trusted peoples. It was established through several underworld ties to several smuggling businesses to accommodate fleeing Terrace Dwarves from forced recruitment from Mogul Dolmond which have been further accelerated and better organized with the usage of UFE expertise led by Agent Gary De Sardet who was no stranger to smuggling tactics used by Human Traffickers whom he had experience combating against. So far for the Blufor that is the UFE and Terrace Dwarves, they are performing Guerrilla Raids against the Mogul’s men and his Slaegian Allies taking down Slave Caravans and minor operations in support of their endeavors. The Guerrilla strategy as directed by De Sardet is to put the Opfor on edge so they can start making mistakes such as spreading out their forces thinly leaving the more valuable areas such as larger mines and Fortresses less defended as usual so that a strike upon them would be far less of risk without sacrificing the reward. The other objective was to instigate more unrest by organizing newly freed slaves and other sympathizers to the cause in order to ‘flip the Ostalrocs blue’ so that the Grand Strategic layer of cutting off the Slaegians from their Mineral Supply would be achieved. However, there was the double-sided blade effect of the more attacks they make the harsher the Forced Labor will be pushed to the limits. This could either create more popular support for the Pro-UFE Dwarves or perhaps turn it against them as they could pinpoint the reasons why their lives were increasingly unbearable was through their actions with the right words inputted to their ears as De Sardet reasoned. The Revolution must overthrow the current regime whilst the wind is at their backs. But right now, for Stryder Group, they are in enemy territory and they must collect more intelligence about the operations of the Hold Dwarves in the area and how they may use it to their advantage in addition to buying some extra supplies for the Resistance.

Nirnkarim upon their exfiltration was seeing a surge of activity as other Resistance Groups had also safely or somewhat safely returned from their various missions on weakening Mogul Dolmond’s assets across the Ostalrocs. The Aparo Mercs had just returned showing proof of bounty to Lutheor Mirrien on their mission to assassinate several prominent Geomancers whilst the SEAL Team from Major Holyfield’s Contribution delivered much-needed weapons and supplies for the growing resistance fighters. To Ho’don and Kimora’s astonishment, these Humans, although look, like they are of the same shape of the Empire, were not acting like the Empire. These foreign warriors with their hulking shell armor and their black staves lend their hands, sweat, and blood to those weaker than them equally regardless of color, race, and foot shape. They were the Slaegians they would have spat around, looked in the eye with fear before ultimately being booted off of their lands before any word could be said.

In addition to this buoyant scene, Kimora and Ho’don were able to reunite with several of their separated Kin. Exchanging heartful greetings that they didn’t know that the day would come they would do they told the stories of how these ‘Men in Green’ appeared like Knights in Shining armor to rescue them from their oppressors and how they aided them back up to their feet and escorted them all to safety.

With the good character of these strange foreigners assured. The Goblin Shaman and the Centaur Warmaiden turned to Stryder Group and Agent De Sardet.

“What you have shown to my people is that you are of Noble Heart that is rare in this cruel-cruel world.” The Centaur bowed. “For saving my life I wish to aid you in avenging this unforgivable transgression against my people.” She vowed.

“And to you, you have Ho’don’s Magicks are yours for it is by Ho’don’s tribe’s honor to avenge my fallen master.” the Goblin Shaman also joined in.

“Making new friends aren’t we Lieutenant?” De Sardet smiled to Samantha.

“Yeah, pretty much.” She nodded.

“Welp, the more help the merrier oui?~ Okay so you two come with me, I could use your help in somethings.” The Intelligence Agent grinned as he told the two newcomers.

After exchanging pleasantries, Agent De Sardet discern that these two newcomers additionally come with two new unique capabilities that he can exploit. Ho’don the Goblin Shaman has the expertise, outside of his obvious affinity to Shamanistic powers of the primal forces of nature, he also has the ability of Divination where he can ‘let go of his mortal shell to soar above the clouds like a great bird’. By that translation, De Sardet correctly guessed that underneath all of that mystical talk he speaks so avidly about is that his ‘Divination’ was essentially the ability to scout out hard to reach areas that not even Drones could penetrate as advanced as they were. As for the Kimora the Centaur Warmaiden, she was proficient with a bow and a spear and her ability to maneuver herself with her superior stamina and footwork allow her to cover more extensive distances due to the limited use of vehicles for his Operation. Additionally, the Centaur humbly chronicled her unique Yoshandinyudi characteristic being of having a strong back that can carry much heavy equipment and gear without impeding the Warmaiden the slightest. She did, however, insist on searching and rescuing the rest of her enslaved kin whom she boasted are just as strong as her. This promising development pleased De Sardet as more of these Centaurs would have a multiplicative effect on the Blufor side of the Ostalrocs.

“Get some le casse-croûte and comeback to me I have some more work for you today.”

————————————-

A few hours later after escorting the Prisoners to relative safety near Nirnkarim’s territories, Stryder Group was ordered by Agent De Sardet to deploy to a nearby fortified Dwarven hamlet of Gwezsa that by an important watering hole run by a mostly Hold Dwarven populace.

The mission objective: Intelligence Gathering.

Upon their arrival, Samantha discreetly photographed the Dwarven Town for this was her first time arriving at such a settlement. In terms of Architecture, the Dwarven Settlements were of the designs similar to 1930’s Art Deco with its geometric symmetry cladding the homes in l.u.s.trous colors with angular and streamlined patterns made of decorative lacquer and metals. The only difference was that the Art Deco has to be scaled down to the size appropriate for those humanoids of five feet or less. Samantha, Iris, Diaz and Obediah were the only people who could comfortably enter Dwarven buildings whilst Kayin, Clay, Crocker, and Aliathra have to refrain for now due to the excessive heights that would have otherwise made them awkwardly bend forward to accommodate themselves inside. It was perhaps why Humans and other races sparingly venture to the Dwarven Mountains for all of the facilities of civilization taken for granted were physically downsized to fit the scale of the Local Dwarves.

Before entering the town, Stryder Group dressed in their ‘Medieval’ disguises of a heavy cloak used by local mountaineers and shepherds to keep warm. Splitting up to cover as much ground quickly, Samantha ventured to the local Tavern whilst Clay scanned the outer perimeter for anything on the Bulletin board posted by the front door. Meanwhile, Diaz and Crocker cover the local Blacksmith whilst Kayin, Obediah, Iris, and Aliathra browse market goods by the Square whilst eavesdropping on the local herald’s reports of any significant development.

“Welcome to the Wet Tankard Tavern, I am Jenris but you can call me Lady Tankard. You must be a traveler may I guess… guest?” a bubbly Dwarfen female greeted the Lieutenant upon entrance.

“Greetings Jenris, I mean… Lady Tankard may I have a table by the bar side?” Samantha asked.

“Follow me.~” the Dwarf Lady guided Samantha pass the fairly small crowd of patrons, mostly dwarves eating, drinking, or gambling away themselves to pay notice to the human stranger.

Getting a bar side seat, Samantha sat down at a stool as Jenris turned over the Counter to arrive at the Bartender’s side of the table.

“What may I get for you?” the Dwarf asked.

“I am just sightseeing…” Samantha answered.

“Sightseeing? What is that?” the Dwarf questioned, not understanding the concept from the Lieutenant who was trying to maintain her cover.

“I mean, I am just a scout for the Imperials. I am returning to my camp to report my findings.” Samantha said.

“Ah, so that’s what they are calling it now at the Empire? ‘Sightseeing’ for scouting? Pretty fun play on words if I do say so myself. But you didn’t answer my question dearie. What can I get for ya?~” she leaned over, her cleavage exposed down by the undercut of her blouse to Samantha pressing for an answer.

“I’m pretty bored… of my Job lately.” She faked a sigh. “I just want someone to talk to…” she said.

“Ah! I see. It’s been a while since a stranger came into these parts; the last folks were a band of Adventurer’s from the Grey Order coming in for some free drinks after a quest. I know just what might get yee in the mood.” Jenris winked as she shifted her child-sized body to prepare a mug of Dwarven Ale.

“You know dearie, that’s a pretty strange Tattoo you got on your hand there.” Jenris pointed to Samantha’s Brand on her Right hand.

Reflexively, the Lieutenant retreated her hand away from sight, covering her right hand with her left. She cursed herself as she forgot to reattach her glove back to her right hand from the Slave Raid earlier that day.

“I-It’s just an embarrassing tattoo I got when I was drunk. You know have you ever done something stupid when you were drunk Miss… I mean Lady Tankard?” Samantha shielded her identity to the Dwarf.

“Oh, I understand. One time, I had to entertain for this one Dwarf’s birthday party and I got so drunk that I ‘outshined’ the entertainment… he was very handsome though.” Jenris blushed while c.a.r.e.s.sing her heart throbbing c.h.e.s.t.

With the conversation saved, Samantha sighed in relief before continuing on with her mission.

“So, what’s the news lately?” the Lieutenant asked.

“Well outside of a whole army of Grey Order Adventurers coming in to help keep the peace for Mogul Dolmond and a few bandit attacks. The biggest news so far is the Chosen One being in Kur Faldhur exchanging handshakes with the Noble folks there.” Jenris said. “You know, my Uncle is one of the Adventurer’s too. A Monster Hunter of great fame I tell yee. Goes around the world killing all sorts of beasts. Almost everyone knows his name.” She proudly tells her.

“By the Fire, I almost forgot he is also part of the Chosen One’s personal retinue too.” The Dwarf added.

“Oh? Did he tell you anything more about the Chosen One? I—I only just follow orders.” Samantha feigned familiarity by keeping questions in a façade of curiosity.

“Faithleann, that��s his name if I remember, he is a handsome lad who is said to be an excellent Mage who the Crystal Heart blessed with lottsa power or that’s how my Uncle described it to me.” Jenris said.

“Where is he now if I presume?” Samantha asked.

“Well he is at Kur Faldhur where he is talking with the Mogul Dolmond and his court about some stuff. I ain’t into to the talks on Politics sweetie but I love to get my hands… or ears at the results.” The Dwarf replied.

“About the Chosen One, so who else is in his party outside of your Uncle?” Samantha interrogated.

“Most of them are from the Adventurer’s Guild. If I can remember their names, there is Petur Reikdorf the Bladesinger, Karliah Silverdane the College Mage, Marchog Faughn the Ageless Knight and my uncle who in my humble opinion is the greatest of the Chosen One’s followers…” Jenris was about to talk about her famous uncle when the front door of her Tavern crashed open.

“I AM HOME AGAIN!” shouted a bearded dwarf on a red mohawk. He was followed by a company of one young-looking Human Knight, an equally young but m.a.t.u.r.ed looking Human Mage, a fresher faced girl carrying with her several scholarly implements and one hooded figure of an indiscernible race yet feminine build.

“Uncle Findrum!” Jenris squealed as she leaped out of her counter to greet her Monster Slaying Uncle.

“Aye! Welcome home tjunu!” one of the Dwarven patrons of the Tavern raised his mug at the new arrival.

“It’s good to be back and see you again my Niece.” Findrum smiled at Jenris.

“You have to tell me all of your stories!” Jenris requested.

“Uhm… Lady Tankard? Service?” Samantha raised her hand. It was rather unprofessional for her to be interrupted by the new arrivals when she was about to sate her thirst.

“My Apologies. Uncle grab some seats.” the Dwarf lady instructed.

The Dwarf Monster Slayer and his companions decided that they too will have a bar side seat for this visit so they took the stools adjacent to Samantha’s right side filling the sitting room to the rightmost edges of the tabletop counter.

“The usual like always.” The Dwarf ordered.

“Coming right up.” Jenris winked to her uncle as she went to work pouring mugs of ale tapped from the kegs behind the counter.

Carrying stoutly a payload of a grand total of six heaving mugs of Dwarven Ale she passed the drinks along to Samantha, Findrum, and the rest of the countertop visitors.

“Drink up!” Jenris cheerfully smiled.

In unison (and in order to maintain her infiltration) Samantha coordinated her gulp down of her Ale alongside Findrum and his companions. But as the alcoholic beverage entered Samantha’s throat, Samantha’s tasting senses alerted her mind as the Ale she drank was surprisingly strong, its overpowering flavor and alcoholic content causing her gag reflexes to kick in. The Lieutenant spat the Ale out of her gullet. Throwing up the reconstituted liquid unto the countertop, her suit and to the tavern’s floor.

“Oh my!” Jenris jolted, her hands cupping her rosy cheeks in surprise.

“Ha! Milkdrinker!” Findrum made fun of Samantha as Jenris kindly grabbed a rag and immediately mopped the violently expelled Ale from the ground.

“Your first time drinking Dwarven Ale dearie?” Jenris asked.

“Yeah…” Samantha coughed.

“So, Uncle! Tell me now about your adventures. What did you see?” Jenris asked Findrum.

“Nothing much outside of an escort job but it the Quest had the Imperial Seal so I couldn’t pass it up,” Findrum said.

“Oh Uncle, you don’t have to push yourself so hard for me. I already have the Wet Tankard now after you helped me build it.” Jenris smiled.

“It is not just about you and your dreams Jenris. It is about our future. Do you know why there are Chosen Ones again? Because we are in danger. Rumor says the Demons have returned for revenge.” Findrum said.

“Oh, my how frightening!” Jenris recoiled. “But what does this mean for you Uncle?”

“I have to fight for you and for the Mogul again. We need to prepare for war if we have any hope of surviving the dark times ahead. Have you heard of the new Decree by the Mogul?” Findrum asked his niece.

“I noticed that the streets are quieter as of late because the Miners are working double-time to make some end right now. Some of them were in such a rush.” Jenris said.

“Exactly! We need to arm ourselves with the best weapons and armor for this fight against the Demon.” The Young Knight stomped the table with the hoof of his hand.

“And find the other two Chosen Ones too Petur do not forget that.” The Female Human mage in the white cloak said.

“What were they called again Karliah?” the Knight identified as ‘Petur’ asked the mage.

“Oh, I remember! Rhannu-Prietar, ‘the Share-Holder’ and Estsygol, ‘the Scholar’.” The pedantic one raised her voice.

“Thank you Olayra.” Petur smiled.

Samantha’s hearts beat rapidly as sweat poured down from her forehead as these strangers, likely Grey Order Adventurers at that we’re looking for her and Doctor Mahelona. Fingers twitched, as her left hand instinctively glide to her hidden pistol holstered by her h.i.p.s as she discreetly scooted to the farside of the Tavern’s bar counter for distance.

“Uncle, how exactly did the Crystal Heart chooses a ‘Chosen One’?” Jenris asked.

“Oh, it’s simple really Dwarf, the Heart would send out these special Brands and they would fly off across all of Gliesia to search for the ones who it chose.” the nerdy looking girl identified as Olayra said.

She unfurled a parchment of paper onto the table filled with drawings.

“Brandings can be found anywhere on the Chosen One’s body. This is the Brand of the Bane which is Faithleann’s and the other two are the Brands of the Share-Holder and the Scholar whom we are missing. We are going to post a notice across all of Ysanigrad in every town center and every tavern of these.” Olayra said.

The Lieutenant’s fight-or-flight response activated within her as Samantha quietly stood up from her chair and began to casually walk away whilst those natives talk themselves over her Brand that she hid underneath her hand.

“Hey let me see that.” Jenris grabbed the parchment. “By Cipag! I have seen that brand just now.” The Dwarf jumped enthusiastically.

“Where?” Karliah asked. The rest of her party stood up excitably as Jenris upon their investigation reaching a breakthrough.

“Red-headed one over there by her right hand!” Jenris pointed to Samantha.

The Lieutenant’s heart sank upon hearing the Dwarf’s excited squeals. She was too careless with hiding her brand and now all of the Tavern’s patrons and hostile natives in search of her turned their eyes to her.

She has been exposed!

“By the Empire’s Will milady, may we have a moment with you.” Petur grabbed Samantha’s cloak accidentally yanking the garment off of Samantha’s body uncovering her amethyst Hecate Suit.

“My-My! Praise be to Yher, I never would have foresaw that the Share-Holder would be such a fair maiden.” Petur lightly bantered to Samantha, most especially eyeing her figure up towards her emerald eyes and cerise ponytail.

“You… you’re the Chosen One here to save us!” the Dwarf girl squealed.

“That is… some strange armor you have their vrora. Of the most superb of makings coming from a Dwarf such as I do say so myself. Actocolite with Ghyranite? Who is your Blacksmith may I ask?” Findrum commented on the unconventional design of two radically opposite minerals that somehow coalesce together harmoniously on Samantha’s suit. Whomever was the Smith who created this marvel of engineering must have remarkable skill that somehow evaded even the senior echelons of the Grey Order, the Empire and the Moguls.

“Thank Nenya that we have found you Chosen One! We never thought we would find you here.” Olayra cheered. “Please come with us! We are part of the Imperial Entourage to one other Chosen One by the name of Marchog Faithleann Garmhaic of the Brand of the Anathema. We are on a valiant Quest to vanquish a coming evil that will soon descend upon our lands.” She gave out the group’s collective proposal.

“Never! I will not join you.” Samantha spat; her head ready to ineluctably reject any attempt of solicited enlistment from these Natives. She needs to leave whilst the scenario is still of a sober state.

“Please! You need to save the world. Do you want to protect your friends, family and countrymen from the Demon Hordes coming from the fallen Tyr Rian Citadel? The Light of Civilization is in need of Heroes like you.” Olayra implored the Lieutenant.

“You can have glory, wealth and the honor of the Emperor’s Favor if you follow us.” Findrum attempts to appeal to Samantha’s self-interest. “You can become a Heroine. Forever your name will be etched on the annals of history and sung ill.u.s.triously by Bards all over.”

“Why deny the calling of your gift Chosen One?” Karliah asked Samantha.

“How can you all say that?” Samantha rebuked her confronters. “Saving ‘Civilization’? You’re doing a superb job destroying it already.”

“I beg your pardon?” Petur asked.

“Look at what you are doing to your own people for a start!” Samantha shouted, her voice echoing across the room to the scare of everyone. “Public beatings, Enslavement, Crucifixions, Impalements?! Everyday all I see you is tearing families apart sending them out the mines where they will surely die? You people have the gall to tell me that I as the Share-Holder should fight for ‘the Light of Civilization’? Why should I join you? A band of thugs you all are!” Samantha called them out on this hypocrisy.

The Lieutenant’s words shocked the Adventurers but not in the negative sense. They do have to admit, that the various harsh methods they used in order to secure their supply line were draconian at best yet a necessary measure if they were to stand a chance against the Demonic Invasion from the South East of the Empire. This Share-Holder’s character, as Karliah can evaluate is direct in contrast to Faithleann’s. This impassionate redheaded maiden was of a better moral standing to the latter’s naivete driven brashness albeit very confrontational by the tone of her voice when she mouthed off their offering attempts. In the old books, as she has read with young Olayra when they passed the time together during their travels together when the Crystal Heart chose multiple Chosen Ones to act on its stead, the individuals had differing and contrasting personalities that balanced each other out. One hero was a fervent idealist whilst his companion and eventual wife-to-be was of a serene mind. A trio of heroes showed differing patterns of thought, one of instinct, another of morality, and the last grounded towards reality. The most extensive case, ‘the Vinholde Four’, may have come from the same town but are of differing temperaments.

“Chosen One, Share-Holder.” Karliah inhaled to ready her appeals. “You have every right to be angry by the Empire’s actions but we have no other choice in the matter. If we have no ingots then we can have no weapons to fight the Demons.” She explained.

“Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the Greater Good,” Findrum added.

“What kind of ‘Greater Good’? The mumblings of some old coot you call a Grandmaster for some spell he has no mastery of? What was it? ‘Seeing through the future’ is it not?” Samantha returned fire.

“Chosen One!” Karliah’s nerves snapped. “Do not speak ill of the Grandmaster like that. His infinite wisdom foretold the prophecy so that we may be able to prevent the Demons from coming here to our world in the first place.

“And yet you continue to fail!” Samantha yelled louder for emphasis. “That ‘Grandmaster’ of yours is just an old fool who is dabbling in something he WILL not understand. You and your Chosen One Faithleann are not trying to prevent the End Times but hastening it! You are destroying yourselves.”

Samantha recalled how Aliathra’s words and Iris’ interrogation painted a sort of Oracle like a ceremony that had taken place before the Eodem’s arrival in Gliesia. How their arrival will bring about the end of all time, a new change to the era as foretold by Geltagar’s Comet. In their haste to fight the inevitable, they only insured of its happening.

“I am sorry, but no amount of your flowery words and promises of wealth will make me join all you—you—Barbarians!” Samantha rested her case with one final insult to those so-called ‘Alliance of the Light’.

The Grey Order Adventurers were lifted in a storm of emotions, none of them positive upon the tempestuous rejection from the Share-Holder Chosen One. Petur and Findrum were left gasping for air upon the sight whilst Mita’s eyes widened in surprise. Olayra’s face cracked, ready to flood a few tears as hope drained from her soul at the Chosen One’s rejection to save the world. For Karliah, she had frustration taking over her temperament. The College Mage had enough troubles boggling her mind that, all the weight taken from dealing with Faithleann’s antics, the Journeying and hearing from Samantha’s words took her to the boiling point.

“I am sorry Chosen One, but you leave us no choice.” Karliah apologized to her. “We need you and we needed you yesterday. We may talk again when you finally calm down. Seize her!” she ordered her companions.

The College Mage gestured her hands as acidic green energy formed on her hands. By the recognition of how the Mage twirled her fingers, Samantha knows that she is about to unleash a Paralysis spell!

“Not today,” Samantha smirked as she reached out her hand and conjured her Magicks to Counterspell, instantly snuffing out Karliah’s attempts for her capture, much to the Mage’s bewilderment.

Counterspelling can be described as an art on its own according to Aliathra’s teachings which the Lieutenant has recently begun to learn. It requires an encyclopedic knowledge of many spells as each Spell’s category requires a unique means to effectively answer. Thankfully, her Share-Holder abilities complemented by her Hecate Suit gave her an extensive affinity on sensing Magicks which ergo allows her to detect Karliah’s spell, identify it, and then neutralize it. This was her first time Counterspelling someone outside of the training environment back in the Laboratory. Now the College Mage’s power flows within her now.

“Get over here!” Mita shouted as her hooded figure charged towards the Lieutenant for a good-old-fashioned tackle to take her down.

But as her form collided with Samantha’s, instead of hitting a solid object instead, the Crow Master only caught air. She can notice that the Share-Holder Chosen One’s body was in a state of fluctuating Blur.

“Impossible! That is a Magic Spell used by only the Dark Elves by the Sisters of the Blade.” Olayra pointed out.

“Ha! Let’s say I know someone.” Samantha smirked. The answer to that question was from Aliathra again.

“Get her!” Findrum rallied the Tavern Patrons.

The Dwarves in the Wet Tankerd rose from their chairs and eager to help a native son such as Findrum was more than an incentive to follow his command.

“Come get some.” Samantha taunted.

The entire patrons of the bar, along with Findrum and Petur jumps on Sam to pin her down. However, as they made the landing, they felt a sharp pain on their bodies in which they reflexively winced in pain from an explosion of wooden splinters piercing their bodies like quills. For instead of pinning down Samantha managed to temporally displace one of the tables in the Tavern by the front door with herself at the last second.

“Suckers!” Samantha teased as she was seen running across the Marketplace outside of the Tavern.

“Oh no you don’t!” Mita growled. She was the faster runner in the groups so she gave chase to the runaway Chosen One.

Dashing expeditiously, the Crow Master caught up with her, grabbing her by the hand and pinning her to the floor.

“Stand down Chosen One! Don’t make me do this the hard way. You cannot escape me since I am Mita the Crow and I never let any of my prey escape.” She said whilst brandishing her knife.

“Mita the Crow? You’re the bitch that Attacked Arhaf Plaza with the Demonbane?” Samantha curses, recognizing that name.

“How did you know that?” Mita asked, dumbfounded by being exposed herself.

“Nevermind. Get off of me!” Samantha shouted.

Thanks to her CQC training back in Westpoint ranging from Krav Maga and Judo, the Lieutenant was able to seize the moment and release herself from Mita’s grip causing the Crowmaster to be given a good number of bruises on her pale white skin with a discombobulated noggin to boot (literally). None of Mita’s previous Prey shared such superb talent in evading her grasp which both infuriated and impressed the Crowmaster.

“Remarkable skill Chosen One! Perhaps we can make you into not only a fine mage but a member of the Crows too.” She complimented.

“Not interested!” Samantha rejected the offer as she ran away.

Mita held back as she could not pursue such a slippery individual at her current state so she has to rely on her final card to play. She whistled loudly for a friend as the feisty redhead ran away.

“El-tee why are you running?” asked Clay.

“We have been exposed! Get evac now.” Samantha warned.

“Damnit!” Clay execrated as he radioed the rest of the Squad.

“Code Red get out of there and meet up at the rendezvous. We return to Nirnkarim.” He ordered.

The rest of Stryder Group made it out of Gwesza unharmed with partial amounts of useful items in tow. Diaz was able to rob of a handful of weapons from a Blacksmith whilst Iris and Obediah learned more intelligence of Slave Caravan routes.

However, unbeknownst to them as they returned safely to the Rebel Headquarters of Nirnkarim. An avian creature, known as the Brarus, a domesticated bird that the Crows are known to breed and use for their missions. The creature is famous for its adaptability, intelligence, loyalty, sense of smell, and incredible eyesight as they were trained as a more maneuverable option to your standard Hunting Dogs. It vultures over Stryder Group as it made its way back to Nirnkarim.

Mita ran ahead to pursue the Chosen One with her Brarus as an act of penance for underestimating the Share-Holder to her fellow Adventurers. Upon reuniting with her bet, the Crowmaster looked over the southernmost Hold of the Ostalrocs and smiled confidently for not only she found where the Chosen One is, but also where all the escaped Slaves were running away to.

This will be reported to Faithleann and Mogul Dolmond, this rebellion shall be crushed and the Share-Holder will be captured in one stroke of her quill as she sent a message out to inform her allies of this discovery.