“OPEN UP!” The voice repeated, “We are here under Standing Orders from the Lord Regent.”
Benjamin stood quickly, instinctively putting himself between the door and the sisters, but an inappropriate smile tried to free itself at the tell tale mechanical clicking that betrayed the fact that Vi and Val were not, in fact, helpless. Jukha stood and stepped up to Benjamin’s shoulder, drawing a slender dagger from the sleeve of his coat. Uiroliuu stood and stepped in front of them, “Please, peace. I will see what is the matter.” He stepped up to the door and opened it, “What seems to be the problem, Chief Constable?”
A massive Aquilar, larger than the average size Benjamin had seen so far, stepped into the office flanked by a second. Each wore what appeared to be a boiled leather breastplate covered in some manner of navy-blue shell or scales of some kind, but what they carried proved far more interesting.
Each Aquilar guardsman bore a tri-tipped spear that appeared to be a perfect match to the spear the H’mure necromancer threw at Benjamin. “You know the rules Uiro. Standing orders are the apprehension of all Farie folk found, inside our boarders.” The leader of the guards leveled a sinister stare at Vilora, choosing to speak in the Aquilar tongue, “And yet there she sits. You may begin explaining how you are harboring a Fae under the auspices of your station. She openly brought soldiers with her, across our boarders, and into this very town!”
“I am no Fae,” Vilora poured with a complicated aura of authority and righteous indignation, “I am the ambassador and twin sister to Queen Mother Victoria Evergreen of the Vin nation. Who do I have the displeasure of dealing with?” Benjamin, unable to understand, watched her face twist as she hid her own smile at the Constable's momentary flabbergasted expression. “You speak our tongue, if poorly.” The Chief Constable, retained an arrogant sneer, “I assume you have the papers to prove so? Ambassador.”
Vilora nodded, and Uiroliuu retrieved the packet from his desk, “It is all here Chief Constable. I recognize your.. duties will prevent you from recognizing the hand of the Queen Mother herself, but luckily I have had the appropriate comparisons here for your aid.” The Leader of the town guard shot a dangerous glare at Uiroliuu, “You cross a line, old man. Very-well, show it to me.”
The constable began looking over the paperwork, and Benjamin noticed two things. First, none off the Aquilar guardsman seemed the least bit fazed by the paperwork, and second; that four more guards appeared dragging a bound and gagged Yilarran behind them, shortly followed by equally restrained members of Vilora’s lancer detachment. Benjamin locked eyes with Jukha, and the Orc shook his head almost imperceptibly.
“I see, these appear to be in order, however, they do not supersede my orders.” The Chief Constable grumbled, “You will remain confined to your rooms or the hotel lobby until I can send for an… escort…. To Hrisenea. You can make your introductions there.” With that, 4 more guards entered. One grabbed each of the sisters by the arm, and the others secured the rest of the group before marching them back to the Hotel.
The groups was firmly, if not violently, deposited back into the hotel lobby where Yilarran was finally unbound. Her form proved to be too heavy for the upper levels, so she simply sat on the floor near their gear. Moments later, the luggage from Benjamin’s room joined their gear, tossed into the pile like so much garbage, save for his rifle.
“Ex… excuse me, my lord.” Benjamin turned to find the same Aquilar he had given a tip to standing behind him, holding his rifle gingerly in its paws, “My apologies. We are under strict commands, but I wanted to return this to your hand,” Benjamin accepted the very gently returned rifle, “It smells of alchemy and death. I was unsure of what would happen should it be treated so haphazardly.”
The large white furred being started to turn away but Benjamin stopped him, “Thank you. Please, sit. I would ask you some questions.” The Aquilar paused, before sitting down nervously next to Benjamin, “How may I be of service?”
Benjamin sighed at the formality, but chose not to correct it, “I know very little about your people, or the Ascendancy.” He waited a moment, seeing no reaction he continued, “Your people, I apologize, but I cannot tell you apart, or if you are man or woman.”
“Ah, a common enough question for the softer races,” the Aquilar began before leaning in, “Our Dames, and our Bulls are easy enough to tell, when you know where to look,” Benjamin raised an eyebrow, gaining a chuckle from the mountain of fur and claw next to him, “oh, nothing like that. Here, see the skin visible around my eyes and mouth. Also the underside of my paws,” the being showed him the pads of its clawed hands, “a deep turquoise blue, yes?”
“Uh, yea, I can see it now.” Benjamin responded. The Aquilar nodded, “I, am a dame, a… woman, in your parlance. Now, look over at the chief constable, see the skin about his paw pads, eyes and mouth, a much darker, almost black. He is a bull.” Benjamin looked over the chief constable for a few moments, then responded, “I see, thank you, miss?”
“Niuroii, daughter of the inkeeper here. I must go, father does not wish me to cost him money by not working.” Niuroii whispered but Benjamin halted her, “then earn coin, here.” He pulled a bit of golden metal from his pack, more left overs from The rings he forged for his mates, “can you keep a secret?” Niurroii nodded tentatively, then barely contained an exclamation of surprise when Benjamin’s eyes began to glow, and the bulk gold turned to a molten puddle in his hand. It stayed like that for several seconds before turning into a perfect small trapezoidal ingot in his hand.
Niuroii took the offered payment, feeling it over with her paws before biting it gingerly. “You are blessed of Heliri”. Benjamin raised an eyebrow, and she bowed slightly, “My apologies, The Orcs call her Suelin.”
“I see,” Benjamin answered, “something like that. My next question. What is so important that we must be escorted from her to this… Hrisenea.” Niuroii winced at the name, “They send you to the capital? If so, it is to ensure your arrival. The Lord Regent has become… paranoid, as of late. Pappa will not answer me why, but the capital is not as safe as it…” a rolling trilling tone boiled from across the room and Niuroii responded quickly with an answer in their tongue before returning to meet Ben’s gaze, “I must go,” Benjamin nodded, sitting back in his chair as she departed. He was soon joined by Vi and Val, and the three organized their pile of luggage just in time for Nuiroii to return with three steaming flaggans, “here, take. My father wishes you to be warm before you depart” Benjamin’s confused look drew her attention, “Not all of us have forgotten our friends.”
Mid-day saw over two dozen more armored Aquilar, shifting the numbers drastically against committing to any real escape. “It is time,” the Chief Constable grumbled, “Get in your wagons, You will depart within the hour.” The group began packing their wagons, and the Aquilar guards did not return the Lancer’s weapons to them until just before departing. Benjamin knew that his women were armed, but their armor remained packed away for fear of causing a stir should a pair of healthy Aereseen openly put on full battle -rattle on while tensions were still high. Benjamin let the girls get into the wagon first, closing the flaps to give them the privacy to get everything on without attracting to much attention. He could see the last of the Vin guard being released, and Yilarran was returned her swords.
Benjamin turned on the sisters when a heavy paw tapped him on the shoulder, “My Lord,” a heavy voice began, Benjamin turned to find the owner of the Inn, followed by his daughter, standing next to him, “I cannot accept this.” He offered the gold ingot back to Ben. “It is entirely too generous, and even if I could… There is no way for me to spend this easily. My people are… strict… on our currency, and that of others… it would cost me a considerable amount to have this converted into legal tenure.”
Benjamin kicked himself, not considering any of those facts remotely, “My apologies, I…” then he paused, no one was paying him any attention, “Show me a gold coin, one of your peoples ‘legal tenure’.” The aging Aquilar gave him a confused look before producing a rectangular gold chit with rounded edges and the sidule incorporating a strange tentacled creature holding a pair of tridents pressed into its face. Benjamin took the chit, turning it over in hi hands. It was light, maybe a quarter ounce. “Thank you,” he whispered, before taking the ingot and covering it with both hands. The barest grunt of surprise escaped the older white-furred man when he saw Benjamin’s eyes begin to glow, but Ben worked quickly, so as not to be noticed. In a moment, it was over, and he discretely returned 8 pieces of chit identical to the one he had been shown.
“I told you pappa…” Niuroii whispered. and the older man looked at Benjamin in shock, “An albino, and blessed. I’ve not seen such things in my lifetime.” Benjamin just smiled, leaning in, “We do not forget our friends either.” He whispered, repeating Niuroii’s words to him back to her father. “I trust these will pass muster?” The older Aquilar man looked over each piece, noting the detail and the pre worn detail around their edges that seemed to aid to their provenance, “Aye, they will. Heliri go with you, My lord.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Just, Benjamin. I own no title.” Benjamin responded, “But I accept your words as intended, You as well my friend.” A loud bellow punctuated the conversation as the guard, leading the convoy, roared his command, swinging his trident over his head in the circular universal sign of departure. Benjamin stepped up into the driver bench next to Jukha, settling his rifle across his lap, “You girls good back there?” He called. “We are,” Viola’s voice responded, and Jukha urged the vaguely oxen beasts forward. The first several miles were tense, and Benjamin was certain that something “unfortunate” was meant to happen to them upon passing the outskirts of the small border town. He did not begin to relax until the first weeks of travel passed without incident. It became obvious that they were… less than free to take their own route. The Aquilar guardsmen and women, Benjamin noticed, were taking a very public preplanned route that kept them on major thoroughfares, but avoided all but the bare minimum required municipal areas.
It was obvious that we were meant to be ushered to the capital without the populace at large noticing “Farie’s among them”, yet Benjamin mulled over what Niuloii had told him. It became clear that Queen Victoria’s information was sorely out of date, and Benjamin quietly began planning for the worst. He was missing a forge, and while he technically did not need one, he still needed the energy it represented inside the system. While it was true that he could create many things with a thought, it was also true that certain Universal constants remained unbreakable. To work metal, he needed heat, and therefore energy.
Metals like lead, he could melt by discreetly drawing energy from nearby sources. A fireplace, a lit lantern, or several lit lanterns, even the surrounding air as long as he did not drop the overall temperature to noticeably, but to work steel… to temper springs, to forge weld and destress metal required exorbitant amounts of energy that remained elusive during the journey. So he focused on small items that needed little energy to manipulate. He fabricated discrete lenses from the overhead water vapor during the day to heat small batches of zinc and copper to produce small quantities of brass, then form it into more cartridges. It was a tedious process, the amount of energy he could collect was still small compared to a forge, but he discovered that he could store the energy, isolating it from the rest of nature until he had enough. ‘Hmm neither created nor destroyed, but storable… interesting’. Producing gunpowder, even smokeless powder proved to be easier. The energy present in an evening’s fire proved enough to activate the chemical processes, and the components were largely available at his fingertips through the earth’s bounty.
Valtrya revealed another skill she had learned, fashioning ammunition pouches to store the extra cartridges that Benjamin was making, fitting the leather flapped pockets to their pistol belts. They could now fully replenish their cartridge loops with unspent cartridges from their pouches one time before truly being out of ammunition. It would help, but Benjamin still feared that close-quarters combat would still be the order of combat, at least… unless…
___________________________________________________
The monotony of the forced travel proved to be a blessing in its own right. Days were spent collecting energy to use in the evenings. The benefit of his machinations was that the Wagon remained comfortably warm, allowing Him, Vi and Val a modicum of privacy instead of being forced to huddle by the fire. His decision to make them this existences version of his bride awakened a curiosity for them. They asked about his world, his family, his life before, and he told them. It helped, at least he hoped, and he told them about his kid sister, his father, and the classic car shop. He had to pause his stories to describe what a “muscle car” was. He leaned on them, they anchored him. He knew that, and it made what Sol had revealed to him all the more terrifying.
Then, there was the cold… the biting, stinging, unconscionably frigid cold. It was supposed to be springtime, but the further they traveled, the colder it got. It became abundantly clear that part of the decision to take the larger roads was because of the lack of maintenance on smaller streets. ‘We must be traveling further north than I thought.’ Benjamin would glance up at the sky, watching the path of the sun shift in the passing days, confirming his suspicions. Over a month passed in this manor, and the end of their travels was punctuated by the rising of a massive ice wall that seemed to grow out of the horizon at their fore. Soon after, Benjamin caught a tint of a taste on the wind. It appeared as almost an imagined memory, that soon blossomed into the salty breeze that stirred flashbacks of his trips to the Fjord where his father’s family retained their ancestral home. The escorted caravan crested the hill to behold an Ice fortress citadel perched on the edge of a sprawling bay. Most of the snowbanks ended closer to the gravel shoreline, no doubt kept at bay from the increased salt content of the crashing waves. The closer the caravan drew, the taller the wall became, and Benjamin was left in wondered and confusion as to why or how a civilization in the Iron Age would choose to use ice as a fortress material.
The Aquilar guard at the head of the caravan raised a hand, “Halt!” he ordered before stepping up to his counterpart for this citadel’s entrance. Low rolling rumbling tones were exchanged before this new guard, wearing heraldry of a significantly more ornate bent than the ones worn by their escorts, narrowed his gaze before nodding curtly and calling to his compatriots.
The changing of the guards felt remarkably more akin to a prisoner transfer than the arrival of a visiting dignitary, and the Caravan was hushedly rushed through the city streets until it reached an inner wall with a black iron gate as its singular entrance. The hooves of their beasts of burden clacked against the cobble stonework as they stopped in front of an imposing Ice forged castle. “Out! Everyone! Surrender any and all weapons to the Armory Sergeant inside the door to the right. Any exceptions will be met with summary Execution. That includes you, Elf! This is your only warning!” the Aquilar wearing gold trimmed armor and a sigil’d helmet bellowed. The statement caused benjamin to quickly unload his rifle, stowing the cartridges in their luggage, but he was unable to get to Vi or Val to have them do the same before they were corralled out of their caravan and up to a long flat wooden counter-top. Behind it stood a Grizzled old Aquilar male, his face bore a wide, wickedly jagged black scar that bisected his left eye, a ghostly white cataract covered his left eye, and his smile betrayed just how deep the blow must have been as the upper and lower gum lines bore the tell tale signs of a cleaving blow that measured a hair's breadth from fatality. The gold gilded guardsman spoke Aquilar to the Grizzled veteran before the scarred Sergeant turned his piercing, if singular gaze to Benjamin and the group, “You Heard’em. Surrender your weapons onto the counter, I’ll be giving you a rack number for each item on parchment for you to recover your kit upon your departure, nothing bigger than a 2-inch knife is allowed to go through, no exceptions.”
Jukha and Vilora started first. Jukha surrendered his hunting bow, and a pair of large curved knives that served as both his personal protection, and his skinning tools. Vilora remained, as ever, unarmed in a conventional since, but the Grizzled Aquilar still eyed her up with a sinister expression, “Don’t you be playing any of your tricks. You would forfeit the lives of your… comrades if you chose to become troublesome… Farie.” Vilora simply gave a slight bow of understanding, and soon it was Benjamin’s turn. His armor was still in his luggage, but he laid his empty rifle down on the counter. He followed by unclipping his Saber, laying it next to the rifle, followed by his cartridge belt, with the Bayonet, empty pistol in holster, and pouches. He folded the leather wear on top and gave the aged warrior as strong a stare as he could muster, “Do not get any ideas.” He half growled in Orcish, but the Older man obviously didn’t scare easily, “A serious face for one so young. Don’t worry those pretty little Eyes, Albino. You’ll have your kit returned to you. Now, let’s get these logged…” Benjamin put a hand on the pile, interrupting the Aquilar, “We, aren’t finished.” He answered, stepping back as Vi and Val took his place at the counter. Benjamin found himself gaining a perverse sense of satisfaction at the expression of the Amory Sargeant as Val set her shield, spear, and Stiletto dagger upon the counter, followed by her own pistol belt.
Benjamin paused Val a moment, “Sorry, I didn’t have time to give you a heads up. Unload, and show clear.” He explained to Val, who only nodded in quick understanding, before deftly removing the cartridges from her sidearm placing them in her newly created cartridge pouch and turning the entire belt in. Vi was next, turning in her spiked buckler, and rapier, before unloading her own pistol and placing it back in its holster before turning in the entire belt as well. It was obvious that the Sargeant was… torn… between a heavy sense of dread at just how heavily armed and armored a pair of Aereesen women proved to be, How he managed to miss it, and the gnawing intrigue of seeing new and strange weapons he had never beheld before.
Lastly was Yilarran. The Vin Lancers had stayed behind to secure their luggage, but the Titan of an Elf was Vilora’s personal bodyguard. Even with that title, she was forced to surrender all four of her broadswords, as well as a boot dagger Benjamin never realized was there, and four sets of brass knuckle daggers.
The Armorer carefully stowed everything in individual weapons racks, but it was obvious that the pistols, and Ben’s rifle held particular interest to him. Benjamin could only sigh, giving the older warrior a final warning glare before the group received their armory log receipts, and were ushered down the Ice, stone, wood, and gold-gilded hallways of the Castle. Benjamin found himself reaching out, brushing his fingertips along the frigid ice blocks while discretely channeling his Majik. What he found, surprised him. “Pykrete?” he mumbled, sensing the large quantities of sawdust mixed roughly, but efficiently into the frozen foundations and structural pillars of the castle. The revelation was a jolting reminder of how much a Paradox of this existence was compared to the Earth he grew up in. “Ben?” Val asked, having heard his mumble, “Another ‘english’ word, what bothers you?”
Ben thought a moment as they arrived at a set of ornate doors that measured the width of the central hall they had just traversed, “Just discovering, nothing is the matter… yet at least. Keep close, I have no idea what is about to happen, and I don’t think we can fight our way out of this one… not unscathed anyway.” A loud pointed cough from Vilora ended their conversation just as the doors began to open. An attendee on the other side of the door bellowed something in their native tongue.
“Welcome to The Hirakan Ascendency,” the ornately, almost gaudily, dressed Aquilar spoke in his native tongue stood. He stepped down from the chair next to the throne he was residing in, walking regally towards the group before taking Vilora’s hand and kissing it, “You are most gracious, Lord Regent Quiiruu.” She responded with a formal curtsy of her own. “With the… firmness of the response to our arrival, I was truly worried for our reception at court.”
The Lord Regent seemed to puff just a bit at Vilora’s response, and Benjamin began feeling decidedly greasy in his presence. Something about this man scrawled under his skin, and made him want to be anywhere else despite the velvet dripping from his language that Benjamin still could not understand. Their opening conversation meandered a moment before the “Lord Regent” turned to Benjamin, flanked by his Aereseen women. To the utter lack of surprise of everyone in the room, The Aquilar’s orcish dripped with the same greasy Velvet as his native language, “Ah, You must be Benjamin, It is rare to see an Albino of your species. Rarer still to find one who has tamed the hearts of two Aereseen in their full capacity.” Benjamin raised an eyebrow in surprised, his words failing him as this man knew both his name, but at least a few aspects of the events that led him to this moment. “I…” he began before falling silent as the Lord Regent laughed, “You made quite a splash when you defeated Master Korgan. I can see now, why you did it. The specimens you acquired have blossomed into true beauty.” He turned, and to Benjamin’s surprise, the Lord Regen kissed each of his women’s hands in turn before returning to Vilora. He seemed to treat both Jukha and Yilarran as her bodyguards, and therefore invisible, but he chose to continue to speak in Orcish. “Now, you mentioned the… expediency… of your quest… I fear that…” Benjamin settled into “Parade rest” from his basic training days, recognizing that this Regent was going to neither expedite his conversation nor offer seating to the mere… “entourage”
