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Chapter 6 - A Return Home

28th day of Xenar

128th I.E.

From a distance, Wersgrauff looked like any other trade port in the empire. Were it not for the absence of the Providence and the Archmage's Tower on the skyline, the city would have looked much like the capital. It sat atop a sheer cliff that over-looked the sea. The port, situated at the bottom of the cliff, was like a little village of its own as buildings were constructed on the boardwalk itself.

Walkways were cut deep into the cliff-face called Land's End to allow people to walk down to the piers at the bottom of the rocks. They were shallow slopes and they zig-zagged from the top of the cliff to the bottom, with only a flimsy wooden guard rail to keep people and their carts from stumbling over the side. Warning signs, cautioning travelers of falling rocks, were at the top and bottoms of the cliff, and the dirt road was crumbled in some places, as huge chunks of it had fallen off over the years. A large lift, supported by a system of pulleys and ropes, was suspended over the boardwalk and could carry someone up to the top of the cliff with ease. If they had the money to pay for the service.

Above the docks in the city streets were the homes for the destitute. Only the poorest people lived close to Land's End. The cobblestone roads had fallen into disrepair over the years. Potholes and spots where the cobble had been chipped away revealed the dried dirt beneath as weeds sprouted from the ground. The shadows were the homes of thieves, the black market and the slave trade that Wersgrauff was notorious for. Though slavery was illegal in Rogust, it didn't stop the kidnappings that had become a daily part of life for settlements on the edges of the empire's borders, like in Wersgrauff.

Nestled at the edge of Land's End and the Marketplace was the Census and Excise Office. The wooden building was built upon stone foundations, and its walls were marred by dirt, sludge, and eggs. There was more than a few broken windows as well, the shattered glass laying forgotten in the grass beneath them. The door had a ripped and tattered Empire banner hanging from it. It was clear to any casual observer that the people in Wersgrauff couldn't tolerate the Office's existence.

Inside, a clerk sat tending to a stack of coins, counting them to make sure they matched with a sales ledger she had in front of her. Her fingers were covered in silver and gold rings, and her dour expression suggested she didn't care that she was openly displaying her wealth just at the edge of the slums.

She clicked her tongue and made a note on a separate piece of parchment when the sales figures didn't match up with the taxes that were expected to be paid. After making her notes, she set the paper aside to the growing pile of warrants that would need to be carried out by the local militia to collect the rest what was owed.

A bell hanging above the door jingled as someone stepped in. As she looked up, the coins vanished into a lock box beneath the counter. It was so swift a motion that it seemed as if the money had never been there to begin with. She and regarded the soldier approaching her desk and frowned, wondering what nonsense the military was up to this time. The man wore a chain tunic and simple linen leggings. A symbol of a sword sheathed behind a shield was pinned to his chest, displaying his rank as Lieutenant.

The man's hair was brown and trimmed short, and he looked like he shaved his face daily. There wasn't a speck of hair to be found anywhere on his face.

When he walked towards the counter, he strolled with a light bounce in his step, as if trying to contain some sort of excitement or anticipation. His left hand rested on the pommel of his sword and his wrists were protected by a pair of glimmering metal bracers.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. I am Lieutenant Dane Trueshot of the 81st Mobile Infantry Division," he introduced himself, saluting. "This is the Census Office isn't it?"

"Of course it is," the woman said, annoyed. "The crap covering the walls wasn't a big enough hint?"

"I'm sorry," Dane replied, "but I wasn't sure. There wasn't a sign out front and the directions the locals gave me weren't particularly helpful."

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"No," Dane admitted with a shrug. "I would appreciate your help looking for a couple people. Does the Trueshot family still live here?"

The woman harrumphed, but otherwise didn't make a move to go look at the census. "Why do you care? Here to pinch more money out of honest folk like the rest of your ilk?"

"They're my family."

"Yeah, you and about a half dozen other so-called Trueshots that show up every once in a while," the woman shot back. "Jack Trueshot is an honest, hardworking citizen that pays his taxes on time. I won't give his location away to some soldier who claims he's a Trueshot."

"Is the family really that famous?" Dane asked. He knew nothing about his grandparents, other than the fact that his grandfather had been a fletcher working out of Wersgrauff. His father had never talked of them much, and that probably meant they were never on good terms. He wondered if that was because Jon, his father, had joined the Blackguard, a mercenary guild.

"If you have to ask, then you aren't related to him." The woman glowered dubiously at him. "If you must know, the Trueshot's supplied the military with all the bows and arrows they could ever need. Of course they were famous in these parts," The woman eased back in her chair and laced her fingers together.

"What do you mean by 'supplied'?" Dane asked, his hands planted on the edge of the desk as he leaned forward. He dreaded that he already knew what the answer was going to be.

"Died a few years back. A shame really, they were about the only good folk in this city, even though they made their fortune selling their goods to crooks like yourself."

Dane was getting angry with the accusations, and he clenched his fists. "Stop talking to me like I'm some criminal!"

What right does she have to criticize me when her fingers are covered in precious metals? Dane thought, fuming in his head.

"Sure you ain't," the woman replied, "Only men I've ever seen wearing those colors have been corrupt. Now if you don't got any other business here, I suggest you get lost."

"Fine, fine, I'll go. I don't want to cause anymore trouble," Dane stood up right and sighed.

"The Trueshots were good people. It's a shame they died. If you truly are their grandson, I'm sorry for your loss." She didn't sound the least bit sincere in her remark, but he let it slide.

I guess Mr. Langsten was right when he said my grandparents were dead. Perhaps I was just being too hopeful to think I had any family left in the area. Why didn't the old man ever tell me about my grandparents? Dane let out another sigh, scratching the back of his head. I guess if Jack provided for the military, and Jon was in the Blackguard, they must not have been on good terms.

After leaving the Census and Excise Office, Dane walked the streets towards the military headquarters in the northeast. He felt eyes upon him coming from all directions as he left the slums behind. He could see vaguely human shapes moving and shifting in the shadows of the alleyways, all of them keeping a watchful eye on the Rogarian soldier that had intruded upon their hunting ground. He hoped that they all understood the rank and station insignia pinned to his armor. He didn't want to have to teach them the hard way that he could unleash his magic at a moment's notice and drop any one of them in an instant.

Northern HQ was a military base along the north-eastern edge of the city. Unlike other fortifications that Dane had seen, this one was surrounded on all sides by a barred fence made of iron, with spikes protruding from the tops of the bars. HQ itself was a large rectangular building, with cone-tipped towers at each corner. Slits along the towers allowed archers to fire from behind considerable cover. Whoever had built it clearly didn't expect an enemy to attack the city or the military base. The main gates were open, and Dane quickly saluted the guards as they let him in without any objections.

Dane headed inside through a green-painted door at the top of a flight of stairs as long as they were wide. Inside, plush red carpeting went straight out from him and forked off in several different directions. There were guards on either side of him, watching the entrance, and two more at a set of stairs directly in front of him. Alchemical globes lit the rooms, nestled within sconces that looked to have once held torches in their place.

"Where is the commander of this base?" Dane asked one of the guards.

The man's armor creaked as he raised a hand to point up the stairs. "That way. Turn left and keep following the red carpet to the big doors directly above us."

Dane thanked the guard and headed up. The second floor had a number of rooms along its walls, but the only one that interested him were the double doors on the other side that the guard had indicated. He circled around the upper level and knocked on the door.

"Yes, what is it?" shouted an irate voice from the other side of the door.

"Lieutenant Trueshot reporting in. I'm here representing the 81st Mobile Infantry division, sir. I simply wanted to ask you a few questions."

"You can come in here and stop shouting through the door, Lieutenant."

Inside the Colonel's office, Dane saw the man sitting behind a desk littered with parchments and other paper work. When he saw the olive skin and hooked nose, he knew at once that it was the same man who had saved him from the orcs all those years ago.

"What does one of Digran's lackeys want? I'm busy," Nicoli snapped.

"I won't beat around the bush then, sir. I'm here to make a request for supplies and mounts for my men. There are twenty of us," Dane said.

"Why should I give anything to a runt like you?"

Dane cleared his throat. "This request comes from Commander Geshtalt Digran. We have been authorized to commandeer anything we deem necessary to completing our mission, should you not comply."

"Twisting my arm, are you?"

"Nay, Colonel. I am merely informing you of the facts," Dane replied. "This could've been avoided if you'd dealt with the orcs properly."

"We dealt with the situation as we saw fit," Nicoli replied.

Dane was doing his best to keep from raising his voice. "There's still people dying out there, Colonel. With all due respect, I don't think your manner of dealing with things has solved anything."

"Bah, what would you know? Northpine couldn't pay us to head up there, so they aren't getting a single ounce of Rogarian sweat to protect them." Nicoli shot back and crossed his arms defiantly. "Not from us anyways."

"You were demanding protection money from them? That's violation of military law, section B clause-"

"Don't cite military codes at me, boy!" Nicoli rose to his feet and slapped one hand on his desk while wagging a finger at him. "What're you gonna do? Tattle on me like some child? The military council wouldn't believe a brat like you anyways, especially when you're just a lieutenant. So let's stop wasting both your time and mine on such pointless things like military conduct violations. You'll get your supplies and you'll get your horses if it'll get you out of my hair sooner. If that's all you came here for, then get out. I don't have patience for self-righteous brats like you."

Dane glowered at the man. This was not at all how he remembered the Colonel back when he first met the man in Tran. As he turned to leave, he paused at the doorway and asked, "Back 124 I.E., what happened with Tran? Did you abuse your power to get money out of them, too?" He could feel power gathering in his fists as mana began to build up in his hands. He had to remind himself to keep his anger under control to keep himself from doing something foolish.

Nicoli scoffed. "I'm not saying anything else. Go find out for yourself, if you're so eager to know the truth."

Dane thought for a moment, thinking back to his time at the orc's camp after being rescued by the military. The Nicoli he'd met back then was nothing like the man before him. He'd taken the time to ensure the well-being of the children from Tran. Had it all been a farce? It was then that Dane remembered something that Nicoli had said to one of his men before they had left the orc camp behind.

He lifted up one of his arms to show off the bracers he wore on his forearms. "Remember these?" He pointed to it and said, "Your rules state you don't steal from children, right? You stopped one of your subordinates from taking these bracers from me back then. Why?"

Nicoli blinked at him for a few seconds as though he were seeing Dane in a new light. Realization seemed to have dawned on him after a moment of thought and he shouted, "You were there, weren't you?"

"I always wondered what the hell you meant when you said those words," Dane said. He watched as the Colonel's face turned more and more red. "I should've pieced everything together but I guess I wanted to forget that night. What kind of soldier are you?"

"How dare you!" Nicoli spat, rising from his chair and rushing towards Dane. "Like I'd expect some rookie like you to understand what we do here."

"I have to wonder what it is you actually do here, sir," Dane said with equal intensity. "What right did you have to take from innocent people?"

"Because we have the power to do it! Did you think a military was built on sunshine and good-intentions?" Nicoli grabbed Dane by the arm and shoved him away. "The money we took made up for all the trouble you country-bumpkins caused yourselves. If Northpine hadn't stirred the hornet's nest and called in help from the previous commander, the orcs would never have attacked Tran and we wouldn't have had to step in. You have only yourselves to blame!"

"That doesn't make any sense!" Dane shouted back. "Whatever happened back then doesn't give you the right to extort protection money from civilians!"

"A peace-spoiled brat like you doesn't know anything."

Dane's lips curled into a sneer. "I may not know anything but I at least know one thing: the military's job is to protect the people."

"That's where you're wrong, boy. Look around you!" Nicoli made a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating the windows in the room. "Do you think this prosperity comes about from charity work? The military protects the interests of the Empire, nothing more. If people want protection from the outside world, then they'd best be willing to pay for it."

"That's why we collect taxes," Dane pointed out.

"The military sees none of that money," Nicoli said and snorted. "A child like you has no business telling me how to do my job."

Springing forward like a tiger, Dane snatched the man's collar and shoved him back against the desk. Nicoli bent back as the other man leaned over him. "This is greed, plain and simple! The people deserve better than that. How many others were killed because you can't do your jobs?"

Nicoli managed to free a hand and punched Dane in the jaw. He reeled back and released his grip on the colonel's fatigues. "Have you forgotten your place, runt? I should have you court-martialled for your insubordination."

Taking a moment to smooth out his ruffled uniform, Nicoli cleared his throat. "You'll get your supplies and your horses. And if you get out of here now, I won't report this to your superiors."

Dane stood up, taking a few deep breaths, then said, "Fine, I have nothing more to say to you anyways, Colonel. I'll be taking my leave. I fear what I may do if I remain a moment longer." Dane saluted and he left the man's office, but not before he made a point to let a stream of lightning dance around his arms and fade away, just to drive the point home that he was not happy about their discussion.

He knew that there were people within the military who had grown corrupt over the years as they abused their power, but he never expected it to come from someone who had taken the well-being of children into consideration. What reason could he have to milk more money out of hard working citizens of the empire when he was already in a top paid position anyways? Dane wished there was something he could do, to return the ill-gotten gains the Wersgrauff troops had reaped over the years back to its citizens, or to bring crooks like Nicoli to justice.

There's nothing more you can do from where you are, he told himself. If you want to change anything, you need to stick to the path you've chosen and get to a place where you can deal with people like Nicoli.

When no one was looking, Dane pulled a small flask out of his belt pouch and took a swig of the warm, bitter whiskey inside. It left an awful taste in his mouth, but it would help numb him and calm him down.

Guess I'll be needing your help again, old friend, he thought as he stowed the flask away back in his pouch.

As quickly as he could manage, Dane left Northern HQ to rendezvous with his soldiers outside the base. It was time to move out, and they'd be making their stop in Tran later that night.

If there was even a Tran to go to.