The others were up and gone by the time Nathlan and I returned to the room, and so we wondered through the castle. We met a few of Fandar’s rebels as we explored, and I was surprised by the obvious reverence they held for us. We were practically legends to them it seemed, imbued with all the respect and power they reserved for their 3rd tier commander, but unknown enough to have an added mystery that served to make us all the more intriguing.

  We soon came across Vera, Sadrianna, Jacyntha and Jorge sitting around a table in the old dining room. It was enormous, large enough to host banquets and entertain the retinues of powerful nobles and dignitaries, and was currently hosting only our small group and a half dozen rebels down near the serving quarters, where some of them presumably laboured away in the kitchens to provide food for the rest.

  My companions, for their part, were helping themselves to a breakfast spread of hard cured meats, cheeses and flatbread. Mugs and flasks of weak ale were poured for us as we joined, and soon we were all sitting around the table talking and sharing.

  It was good to see Jorge up and about. Colour had returned to his face once more, and he looked less like a sentient corpse than the day prior. When I told him that, he just called me a ‘cheeky git’, but it brought a smile to my face to see the old banter between us fall back in place. It took at least half a bell, but soon we were all caught up on the events of the night prior from each of our perspectives, and finally I started to feel the emotions I had expected.

  We’d done it. We’d fucking done it. Duke Ryonic was dead, the Marchlands ours.

  Vera had outlined her brief plans – to stay on here for a few years at least. The coming months and years would be chaotic as borders were redrawn and every warlord this side of the Dragon-Spines was looking for a stable piece of land to occupy and exploit. She intended to stay on, acting as the guardian to this little kingdom.

  “We already have strong links to the councils that run the villages and organise the mines,” she’d said. “Fandar and his rebels can become the backbone of the new defence force. They can recruit and train the town militias, and I will ensure no larger threats come knocking while they find their feet. What the country needs right now is stability in the face of all this chaos. I’ve no interest in becoming another Duke Ryonic, obviously, so power will need devolving to the local councils, but they will need a backer, and I can be that. For a time, at least.”

  “And it’s got nothing to do with a certain handsome skeleton that will be sticking around nearby, does it?” I asked with a cheeky grin. She allowed a small smile to play at her lips in response, but a twitch of her arm set me to flinching back, and we all got a laugh out of that.

  “And what will you do?” Jorge asked me.

  “I’m with him,” I said, flicking my hand over at Nathlan, who was eyeing up the spread as if it was a charcuterie board rather than just a collection of hard tack. “We’re bound for the Leviathan Coast, from what I hear. There’s likely to be a massive amount of instability there because of the World Tree’s stirring, and Nathlan thinks he might be able to train up the population to maintain and create their own storm-wards.”

  Jorge and Vera, both knowing of Nathlan’s past, leaned forwards in interest, and the barbarians, while ignorant of the details, could clearly tell it was important so gave their focus, too.

  “Yes, I-” Nathlan started, before coughing as he hastily swallowed a piece of meat. Once he’d regained his breath, he continued. “The seed helped me design a new class more optimised to teaching ward-craft. I had thought…I had thought it would be impossible to make progress, what with the Wavebreakers’ political dominance, and so I gave up my old class months ago, my dream along with it, but now…”

  Jorge caught on quickly. “But now you’re hoping that they will be too distracted by broader geopolitical concerns to pay close attention until it’s too late.”

  Nathlan nodded, and Jorge stroked his chin. “I can see that. They were already in the midst of a proxy war with The Desolate Empire even before Illyn Solynia stirred, and now…well, it’s certainly risky, but I can’t think of a better time for it,” he said with a sigh.

  “I believe we can start small on one of the cliff-towns rather than a harbour city,” Nathlan said. “Test the theory, so to speak. If it works, I am expecting a significant amount of attention from the local Wavebreakers even with everything going on, and so it would behove us to start small.”

  Jorge nodded. “Smart lad. I assume then, that Lamb will be challenging the Trident Holder to single combat in the middle of Ship’s Rest in only a few weeks,” he mused, smirk on his face and glint in his eye.

  I just shrugged, “Never say never.”

  By the way Jorge did not immediately commit to helping us, I knew he wouldn’t be joining. Vera already had other responsibilities, but I took the opportunity to extend the offer to the barbarians as well.

  “It will be dangerous,” I said. “Plenty of fighting, no doubt, and we’d be more than glad of your company should either of you wish to join us.”

  Sadrianna shook her head quickly though. “I’m sorry, but I must return to my clan. Our quest is at an end and I have…a new perspective I wish to bring back. The seed changed my class significantly, and I think I can do more good back home than out here. My parents will need support as well, what with the turning of the era. If the Great Bears wake once more…well, suffice it to say, I am needed elsewhere.”

  I nodded, and we spent a few moments discussing Sadrianna’s plans before turning to Jacyntha. She looked conflicted to my eye.

  “I…I would like to,” she said, looking over. I caught her eyes lingering on mine, and felt a slight blush colouring my cheeks, but she looked away quickly. “But I cannot forget what I saw in the Riverlands. Against the might of an entire country, I am just one woman, and your quest will be a long one. Back there though, we saved a hundred lives in an afternoon.”

  She seemed to chew at her cheek for a few moments, and I traced the pale scars that twisted and twirled down her bare arms with my eyes. “I can make more of a difference there, I think. And I still have work to do on discovering what I want to be. I can’t return to the clans yet, and I feel my heart drawn back across the border to those feeble villages.”

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  We all nodded at that, seeing a heartfelt mission when we heard one. “A noble calling,” Jorge affirmed, and we all agreed loudly, raising our mugs in salute. Jacyntha smiled in thanks before we moved on.

  “And what of you, Jorge?” I asked. “Where does The Great Shepherd go from here?”

  He smiled tiredly. “The great Shepherd needs to eat, and rest.”

  “Skjal!” Jacyntha cheered, and once again we all laughed.

  “With all seriousness though,” Jorge continued on, “I will be leaving soon too. I’ve made no secret of my allegiances of late, and Illyn Solynia’s shaking of the board will bring about many changes and much chaos. I will go where I can, and guide those who have felt her blessing but do not yet hear her wisdom.”

  That was incredibly vague, though perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised. I briefly thought of Markas and the words he had said beneath the earth. But when I remembered Jorge kneeling on broken cobbles before a cavalry charge, arms outspread and lips moving, I felt guilty for even entertaining any doubts about his intentions.

  Jorge was a good man and had shown me nothing but kindness. He might be a mysterious force moving across the world; a 4th tier with more secrets than I could imagine, apparently able to predict with reliable accuracy the turning of the era – a feat which I was under the impression that even large empires struggled with – but that did not mean he wasn’t honest about his motivations.

  “Alright, but don’t go forgetting us, aye?” I said with a poor imitation of his accent. “I expect a check in every year, you hear?”

  Vera laughed and shot Jorge a smirk when he turned first to her, and then me, in exasperation. “I don’t sound like that, lad.”

  “Aye, ‘course you don’t” I said. “Lad.”

  He sighed, raising his hands in defeat with good grace, before speaking once more.

  “I don’t know for sure just yet, but I imagine I’ll be heading by barge down through the Riverlands towards the coast, and back across the Dragon-Spines afterwards, though like Jacyntha I will likely spend some time in the Riverlands before leaving. Plenty who’ll be needing help there, unfortunately.”

  We all nodded solemnly at that. It was an unfortunate truth that while things might even change for the better eventually, the next several years, and probably decades, would be hellish for many. There would be no shortage of broken people for Jorge to help point in the right direction.

  We broke to our various tasks soon after. Vera headed to the village to get them up to speed and Jorge focused on recovery and went to find Fandar for some discussions about what to do regarding the ruins.

  My understanding was the advice was ‘keep your gods-damned mouth shut about them, and never venture down there, or you’ll have every power-grabbing bastard from here to the coast after your kingdom’, but I wasn’t exactly sure. I’d asked him about the other god-touched, and Jorge had just sighed sadly. Apparently, he’d been annihilated by one of Markas’s stray attacks – the cost of higher tier battles making me thankful they had been trapped a long way underground when they fought.

  For our part, us youngsters headed out to the fields to clear the dead. Dreary work, but that was the way of war. The dead could rest, but the living had to clean up their mess.

  Vera returned after a few bells, and by then we had cleared the field of the dead. Horses were butchered and any useable cuts of meat wrapped and stored in my storage ring for the kitchens later. I was surprised to find that I was best suited to the task, given my historic use of the Meat Preparation skill. Sadrianna was also a seasoned hunter and would have had little trouble, but since she had never worked with something with an equine base – the deep mountains not the best place for an animal adapted to open plains – the task fell to me to see it through.

  Luckily, I had killed and butchered a chimeric creature in the foothills of the Dragon-Spines back when I had still had the Wilderness Endurance Hunter skill. A strange blend of horse and chicken whose great dewclaws had given me no end of trouble, but it had at least given me experience enough to prepare me for this grisly task.

  We had likewise stripped the dead, though only of their valuables and good quality weapons and armour, not their very flesh. The corpses had then been piled atop one another until we had managed to find an area far enough from the tree that it would not affect the water supply when the runoff was carried down into the fields. We had collected firewood from the trees and built three great pyres, piling the bodies atop until they were ready to burn.

  Vera found us in the inner courtyard, parsing through the loot and stacking armour and weapons in neat piles for the rebels. Nathlan and I kept an eye out for anything that might be of use to us, Fandar having given us first right of refusal for any particularly tempting loot in light of our significant help in the battle.

  Jacyntha had already nabbed herself a storage device that she had been lacking, and a pair of sturdy boots that she seemed to be more excited by than the incredible valuable storage bracelet. Sadrianna hadn’t taken anything, though she helped, nevertheless.

  I had found a marvellous straight dagger from one of the Al’Asakir, as I had since learned they were called. It had a golden hilt made from woven metal that gripped a pommel of solid obsidian. Not particularly useful, but it reminded me of the Ashkanian Ruin, and I prized that memory, slipping the weapon and its sheath around my waist such that it rested across the small of my back, ideal for an easy draw with my right hand.

  I’d also found a nice arm ring for my left bicep, and Nathlan had convinced me to take a look at some armour from one of the Crimson Company mercenaries. I was fond of my armoured vest, but it did leave some areas relatively unprotected, and I had plans to cover my left shoulder with an articulating pauldron from the scavenged gear.

  I’d also taken a red turban from one of the dead and wrapped it around my waist to form a nice sash. That offered no martial benefit, but I just thought it looked snazzy and went with the rest of my ensemble. 50% of an armour’s efficacy was about intimidation, after all, and patchwork pieces didn’t inspire much respect, I’d found.

  “Good news from the village?” I asked as Vera swept into the courtyard from the gate. Somebody had already carved steps into the thick trunk that rose from the ground below, and it was a relatively easy climb now even for an unenhanced human. It wouldn’t be during a battle, mind, but that was kind of the point anyway.

  Vera nodded, a small smile gracing her normally hard face. “Yes. They are in good spirits, though none failed to notice the events last night, and it’s got them worried. I’ve called for a general meeting with as many of the councils and unions as possible, and some in the village will spread the word. I expect it will be a busy few days.”

  I laughed at her scowl, and Sadrianna clapped her on the back in sympathy. “The burdens of leadership are heavy indeed, my friend,” she said in a weary tone. “You’ll learn to hate paperwork with a passion.”

  “I already do,” the big woman growled, “and I haven’t even gotten any yet.”

  We all laughed at that, and Nathlan and I shared a glance, sharing our happiness at this not being our problem.

  “Anyway, Fandar met me on the road – he wants to see us all this evening in the banquet hall. I think there is likely to be a formal event,” she said.

  “But I’ve got nothing to wear!” I shouted in panic, and Nathlan punched me on the arm. Vera smirked, and then noticed my vest on the ground with the cannibalised armour scattered around it and my abandoned needle and thread.

  “Bring that to my room in a bell, Lamb, you’ll just make it worse on your own,” she remarked, and I sighed in defeat.

  “Aye, I’ll see you soon then.”

  Vera then swept into the keep proper, which now had a door, taken from somewhere less important, and we continued to dreary work. It was necessary though, and if Vera and Fandar were to protect this small kingdom, their guardians and enforcers would need to be suitably well armed and armoured.