22nd of Autumn 5859

  Castle Casamonu, Casamonu

  Brown’s office was unusually silent today. The only soul in the room was Lady Whitebeard, who was slouched on a sofa in the corner. No light came in through the windows of the office at this ungodly time of day, and the room was quite dark. The stone walls, the lonely room, the sulking dwarf, it certainly was a depressive location to be.

  Brown suddenly barged into the room, followed by Tubman “…moment, we’ll talk about that General Tubman. If…” His eyes fell on the corner dwarf who was menacingly sitting with her face in a million pieces. “…hello there, Miss Whitebeard. To what do we owe your presence?”

  Whitebeard spoke to the wall, not even having the energy to turn her head towards Brown “The elves. I tried to return to Zon’guldac, and they were swarming around the dwarven city.”

  Tubman sat in front of Whitebeard, shifting a seat right in front of the dwarf. “Isn’t Aroghlie heavily fortified? I’ve heard so from the fugitives who escaped there. It shouldn’t fall easily.”

  “You’d think so, but you aren’t a dwarf, Miss Tubman. You haven’t been on the inside.” Whitebeard shifted up from the seat, remembering common etiquette. Her slouch was gone now, but she was sulking all the same “Aroghlie’s walls are ancient. They look grand, but the Council has spent no budget on renovating them, so they rot on the inside. Same with the rest of our forces. When I got to the city, all I could her was non-stop cannon fire, and us dwarves certainly don’t have that many cannons ready.”

  “So?” Brown leaned on the sofa that Whitebeard was on “You’ve previously said that the dwarves could handle their own, and didn’t request military assistance.”

  “We also didn’t expect that the elves would have cannons and Imperial prerogative to attack us. Times have changed, and I am here to pray for your help.”

  Brown looked at Tubman. Tubman looked back at him, nodding. “I’m afraid that we have troubles of our own, Miss Whitebeard. An enemy army, with double the men of our own, at most two days away from Casamonu.”

  “O-oh.” Whitebeard’s eyes and mouth stood open as if she couldn’t process what she had just heard. “Oh.”

  Brown calmly paced around the room; his hands wrapped around his back. He looked out the window, towards the sun graciously provided by the Lord. Casamonu, and its walls, were right below him. “We did repair Casamonu’s walls, but we haven’t upgraded them at all. There hasn’t been enough time or resources to do so. Our men are underequipped, undertrained, and overnumbered. I believe that Providence threw this hurdle for us to overcome.”

  “I more think that this Providence of yours wishes to crush us under a hurdle if that’s what they’re sending” replied Whitebeard. “Pray tell, how do you wish to overcome such odds, Mister Brown? How do you plan on fighting the army that’s coming here?”

  “The same plan for when a greater army came to defeat us at the copper mines: I don’t. I don’t plan on fighting this army. One doesn’t make plans for what is clearly impossible.”

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  “So, you’ll just give up the city without a fight?” asked Whitebeard sarcastically.

  “Yes” simply replied Brown. “Yes, we will.”

  Whitebeard had to take a silent pause again “…I asked that as a joke.”

  “I am serious.” Brown cleared his throat, ready for a long speech “We have done our job in this city. We have freed its many slaves from their masters, we have freed the citizens from their lords, we have freed the peasants from serfdom. I don’t think they’ll sit by idly while their old masters come back. The citizens of the city may have been against us out of a natural reaction against change, but they’ll resist against their old masters coming back with force. Even more than the resistance against us, in fact.”

  Whitebeard took a long, disappointed breath “So, you’re going to have to leave the dwarves alone?”

  Brown shook his head “No, no. We’ll welcome any and all refugees from Aroghlie into Libertycave. Unfortunately, that is all that we can do, unless you wish for us to fight a suicidal battle against the forces from Karabush. We’ll be better able to defend ourselves in the mountain, especially as the colder season approaches.”

  “That is understandable, Mister Brown. We all have our own people to protect.” Whitebeard stood up from the sofa and took her warhammer that she had left leaning on the wall “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll try and salvage who I can from Aroghlie.”

  “You are excused, Miss Whitebeard.” With that, Whitebeard left the office with a polite bow.

  “You aren’t excused, Mister Brown” interjected Tubman “We have an evacuation to plan.”

  “May God help us; this will be a long night. Let us begin.”

  22nd of Autumn 5859

  A fancy bedroom, Casamonu

  Clank, clunk! Pitter patter, thud!

  “Wah… what the… what’s the ruckus for!?” Shakira jolted out the bed, jumping for her sword. She instead ended up hitting a bedside table and falling flat on the ground.

  “Miss Shakira, you’re awake!” It was Azra, running towards her guest “We just got orders to evacuate, get up, please!”

  “Wah?” Shakira felt like her head was being pounded on by a drummist. Perhaps it was the table, perhaps it was the drink from last night… perhaps both. “Both? Right, I visited Azra’s house last night, and…”

  “…and now you’re here, come on, we have no time for deep thoughts Miss Shakira!” Azra picked Shakira up and let the adventurer rest on her shoulders. Meanwhile she was also ordering the maid, “Make sure to pack up that sword, and her clothes, oh and also…”, and trying to stay balanced with the woman leaning on her. “Alright, slow and steady, slow and steady…”

  Shakira, half-conscious, followed Azra to somewhere. She couldn’t tell. Her consciousness only returned once she sat down and realized that she was inside a horse carriage. “Uh, what’s happening?”

  Azra sat without saying a word, catching her breath. She slowly returned to lfie “We’re escaping to Libertycave. Most of Casamonu is. There’s an army coming, and I don’t think they’ll have mercy on our souls. ‘Villains ne’er have mercy’, as one play goes. Do you know that one?”

  “N-no, I’ve never watched a play, at least not the fancy kind that a lady like you would have seen.”

  “No? It’s quite a classic you know, the Tragedy of the Wise…”

  Shakira snapped her finger “That’s it, I remember what happened last night! I fell asleep while you were yapping about literature.”

  “It’s not ‘yapping’, Miss Shakira, ‘literature is the soul of mankind’!”

  “Whatever.” Shakira, unable to find interesting company, looked outside the window of the carriage. They were on the streets of the city, and it was quite crowded with a dense flow of people and horses. All had bags, sacks and barrels strapped on them in an effort to move as much as possible. “Is nobody staying behind?”

  “I don’t think so” commented Azra. She was now looking out of the windows as well “I imagine we’re all traitors according to the Empire, all of us who remain alive alongside fugitives.”

  Shakira shrugged “We live in interesting times.” She yawned, closing her eyes again. At least the carriage was stable enough to get some sleep in…