Paul, within Castle Barrus

  Elric took Paul to his study, sat him down across from himself.

  "Tell me Paul, how do you like living with the magi?"

  "I mean, I wouldn't say it's always easy," he began carefully, "but I'm getting used to living with them. And they aren't all bad--many of them are quite helpful in small ways."

  Paul tried to keep his voice light and breezy as if what he said was true, rather than empty platitudes meant to appease the steward.

  Elric raised an eyebrow skeptically, and Paul felt himself flush as the elf clearly saw through him.

  "Paul, if you want me to believe you're capable of helping me save my kingdom, then you need to show me that I can trust you," Elric said sternly. "Now, tell me honestly...how do these magi treat you? Are they truly generous hosts who have your best interests at heart?"

  Paul swallowed hard, feeling intimidated by the direct approach.

  "No," he admitted. "I get the sense that they think of me as a curiosity and property, rather than a person. Though, I have made some friends among them... they aren't all bad."

  Elric smiled, "I am aware of their habits. I fear a few of the lords here are in their pockets. However, you being honest is good news." The elf picked up a piece of paper from the desk and sat reading it for a moment.

  "Ashwen tells me that you tried to, 'Steal and run off with important material.' Is this true?"

  Paul shook his head furiously, "No! I... I was trying to help a friend... And the things we took, well most of it was made by me anyways, so..."

  "Oh? And how would this help your friend, exactly?"

  Paul sat for a moment, trying to think of what to say. If he made a mistake here it could cost Wystan his life.

  "It's, well, it's a long story actually..."

  Elric chuckled and leaned back in his chair, propping his boots up on his desk in a leisurely fashion. "Good thing I have as much time as I do then. Start from the beginning."

  "The beginning, huh? Alright... Well, a while back, I came across the town of Southwold..."

  ***

  Two hours had passed, and Elric had taken up a much more serious demeanor. He sat forward, fingers steepled and his eyes staring straight through Paul as he finished speaking.

  "That brings us here, I guess... Wystan is still a kid, and Lynwood would have killed me. I owe him my life."

  Elric took a moment, then sighed. "I would agree that you do in fact owe this Wystan. However, Aldis told me a very different story. According to his sons, Lynwood beat his opponent, you apparently, and when he went for the killing blow, your friend attacked him and made them flee."

  "That's not-!"

  Elric raised a hand to silence Paul.

  "You see, being the steward has allowed me to become very close with the Detêmri. I've met Lynwood, and watched him grow even. There was a time when he was living here in this castle while his father went off to drive the Orcs out of our lands."

  Elric's stare was piercing through Paul, "And I have found that he was one of the most rotten little shits I have ever known. Honestly, his father never disciplined him enough. Many servants here still have some scars and stories from that little monster... As much as I hate to think this... I believe you."

  Paul felt a rush of relief wash over him. "So you'll keep your promise then? Wystan and myself won't need to fear Aldis?"

  "I will do what I can, Paul. More importantly though, we must first survive this conflict. Mostly skirmishing and pillaging to the south, but it won't stay that way if we don't do something swiftly. Anyways, Aldis would be a mad-elf to try and mess with the magi and their playthings. Wystan will be safe so long as you are alive and useful to them."

  "How do you know this?" He asked.

  "Do you have any idea how much it cost me to convince the magi to lend you?"

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  Paul shook his head.

  "Little over one-third of the treasury was emptied. The fact they were brazen enough to ask for such payment tells me they are highly invested in not losing you. However, if the kingdom falls they won't be in such a nice position. The Hushites hate magi, magic, and us. Which is why I paid them. We cannot win as it stands. A portion of our army was with the king when he died, and many fell in skirmishes along our western border. We do not have enough elves to defend our fiefs, and have a standing army. So, when the magi came offering us weapons that spit fire and iron, naturally, we were curious how they were made. We need you Paul, if we cannot match them in numbers, we must surpass them in arms. Your cannons will make defending castles much easier, and from what I've heard, you made a new weapon, a cannon that can be carried around and used by a single elf. Is this true?"

  "Yes, but it's more complicated than that. None of these are very simple to make and I lack the resources to-"

  "If you can promise me the safety of my people, Paul, you will have the backing of an entire kingdom. There will be no material out of reach for you, no cost that is too great, and no request shall be denied. Should you help me protect this kingdom, I will give to you anything that you desire."

  “Anything?”

  “So long as it is within my power, yes.”

  Paul smirked, "Let me think on that for awhile... I want to make good use of it."

  "I would expect no less." Said Elric

  ***

  The war room of castle Barrus was filled with important-looking elves who were positioned around a large table on which a map had been laid out. Each of which now had their eyes trained on Paul.

  Elric cleared his throat, "This is the one who created the cannon. You will all respect him, he will be critical in our defense of the kingdom. Do you all understand?"

  A few elves gave verbal confirmation, the others only nodded and returned to the large map that laid on the table.

  "My lord, as far as we know, Bargo is surrounded by the enemy. They haven't laid siege to the city yet, though we believe it is only a matter of time before they do." Said one elf.

  "This could be an opportunity to levy a force from Far Hold and Fairplain. If we are able to gather up elves from the north while they're dealing with the levy, we may be able to drive them back near Heeb's Castle." Chimed in another.

  Elric stood for a moment, then turned to Paul. "Those guns you've made. Do you think they could pierce a chariot's armor?"

  Paul thought for a moment before answering. "Yes, I think they definitely could... though actually hitting one would be difficult. You're going to want to use that on large groups because the weapon itself is not very accurate. At least, for now it isn’t."

  "I see... If your people were in my position, what do you think they would do?"

  "We... We would make the road impassable. Booby-trap it somehow, so when the enemy tries to make their way to us, they have to take losses just to take ground."

  It's worked wonders against my people actually, though I don't think I need to tell them that.

  "Booby-trap? How would you do such a thing? Should we set traps as if we were some hunters? My lord, this boy is a fool!" Cried one of the elves.

  Elric stroked his chin as he thought and began to pace around the table. Finally after a few moments of this he spoke.

  "I agree with Paul. If we can slow their army down, it will give us more time to raise an army. I will have a servant take you to the forges. I give you full authority over the blacksmiths in the castle and the smiths from the guild. Make your traps, and make for us a cache of weapons." Elric nodded to one of the servants who were hugging the wall. The elf briskly walked up to Paul.

  "Follow me, sir."

  ***

  The castle forges were on par with the Smith’s guild.

  A short, burly elf walked up to him. “You must be Paul, welcome to the royal forges. The names Gibkin, I’m the Iron Monger.”

  “Nice to meet you Gibkin, where are the rest of the blacksmiths?”

  Gibkin chuckled, “They’re out drinking most likely, you know how it is. Once the sun is gone, it’s time to drink. Well, except myself, never touch the stuff.”

  “That’s probably a wise choice. When is the Smith’s Guild going to be here?”

  “Oh, tomorrow most likely, heh, I’m sure they’ll be driven red to be following orders from a non-elf. Haha!”

  Paul cocked his head to the side, “You don’t have any issues with non-elves then?”

  “Me? No, my best friend from childhood was a troll. Crafty bastard, real good with a hammer too.”

  “I see. Well, I’m glad at least one of the people working under me won’t hate me.”

  “The elves who work the royal forges know better than to hold disdain for their betters. So long as you respect us, we’ll respect you. Understand?”

  “I think so.” Paul turned his head to the servant who was dutifully standing next to the entrance.

  “I haven’t asked you for your name yet, sorry.”

  The elf stared blankly back for a moment, before stammering a response.

  “T-the name is Eren, sir.”

  “Well, Eren, would you mind showing me where I’m supposed to sleep? I’m feeling pretty tired. It’s been a long day.”

  “Of course, sir.” He said, before turning and leading the way back to the castle.

  Paul waved his goodbye to Gibkin before following Eren back to the castle. The hallways of castle Barrus were far less winding and confusing then the mage tower, and for this Paul was grateful. Eventually Eren had led him to a room somewhere in the upper stories of the castle. The room was pleasant enough, and it felt nice to be away from the magi. Paul laid in the nice bed that he had been provided, and mulled over how he was going to keep Wystan from any more harm. He doubted the magi would let him out of their sight. The more Paul thought, the deeper the pit in his stomach grew. He knew what he needed to do, but even if the magi had been horrendous to him, he doubted his ability to harm them intentionally. This would need to be remedied.

  Paul got up, sleep was never going to come. Instead, he opted to work out the proposed “booby-traps”. He lit a lamp, and took to his journal. There, he would stay all night trying to distract himself from the eventuality of the future.

  ***

  Hoad, upon the great river

  Dagan and Ned were in their usual guard positions, up in a tower overlooking Haod. The night was coming quickly as the sun began to drop behind the mountains.

  “Oie Ned, I haven’t seen the woods-elves come back yet. A bit late isn’t it?”

  “Aye, they’re very late… I wonder what’s taking them so long?”

  “I haven’t heard of any beasts or monsters roaming about recently. So, it’s not something like that. Should we inform the captain?”

  “Nay, I’m sure he knows. We should just sit back and wait for them to show, I’m sure it’s nothi-”

  A sudden thwack silenced the elf, his friend spun around to witness him grasp at his chest. There was a shaft with black feathers sprouting from him. Dagan went for the alarm bell, before he could grab the rope he felt a piercing pain in his side. He stumbled forward and grasped at the rope and pulled. Another arrow, this time finding Dagan’s temple. The bell swayed a moment as the elf’s lifeless body flopped forward. They had failed to warn the people of Hoad.