September 14, 8 ATC

City of Prosthetium, County of Armed and Ready

Crack!

The first of the punks fell to the ground with a satisfying thud, blood trickling out of his broken nose. He cradled his face while his two friends charged the assailant.

Whack!

The second one received a knee to the groin, which was quickly followed with an uppercut to the jaw. He plummeted backwards, barely conscious and a tooth lighter than he was before.

Thud!

The third punk was slammed violently into the brick wall of the alley, momentarily stunned. As he staggered sideways, a fist to the stomach sent him spiraling to the ground.

All three of them lay there, bruised, bloody and cowed into submission. The first one wiped the blood from off his nose and took one last defiant swing at the assailant. His face exploded in pain again as the attacker rammed the underside of her fist into his already broken nose.

"Oh, shit," he muttered to himself. The punk looked to either of his friends for support, but one was unconscious and the other was immobilized by pain.

"Fuck!" He cried out weakly as the attacker paced over to him. "We won't mess with farmer McCanical anymore! Promise!"

Looking down on him, she smiled. "You know what this is about, then?"

"Yes!" He groaned, holding his bloodied nose. "Please don't hurt me anymore! We'll stay away from his farm, we will. We will! I'll tell my friends too, when they wake up. Just leave us alone!"

"First," she said, and she leaned down next to him. He shuddered with fear.

"Do you know who I am?"

The punk nodded. "Everyone knows who you are, Austin."

"Then you know not to trifle with me. Don't go looking for revenge, kid. It's not worth it."

The punk nodded affirmatively, though reluctantly. Austin smiled at her handiwork, scooped up one of the punk's teeth and began the trek to the farms outside the city.

Austin walked along the poorly cobbled city streets, making her way through the bustling crowds of the mercantile district before finding herself in the main housing district. All the sounds, all the bright clothes hanging from the clotheslines strung above her head, reminded her of the day she first arrived in Prosthetium.

Soon, the smell of manure and decay reached her, and she quickly hurried out of the city limits, into the wide and sprawling countryside fields.

Out there, the air was cooler and crisper than the dense, smoke-filled air of the city. Austin soon found herself walking in a reverie as she made her way down the main road, taking in all the peaceful sounds of the birds and the field animals as she watched the ever-darkening sky. After about half an hour of relaxing walking, she saw Farmer McCanical's farmhouse come into view, and she quickened her pace.

The dirt road up to the farmhouse was scattered with manure, which Austin took great care not to step in. These were her last pair of boots.

As she walked up the steps to McCanical's hovel, the door swung open, and the bearding old man who had hired her smiled.

"I take it those three young bastards won't bother me again?"

Austin smiled and shook her head. "They won't be bothering anyone again. I have a memento, if you'd like it." She tossed him the tooth she had picked up earlier, and McCanical caught it. He examined it, smiling sadistically.

"Oh, my only regret is that I wasn't there to see it. Were I ten years younger I might have done it myself."

Austin laughed with him and lingered in the doorway for a moment.

"I hate to be this way, but about my pay…"

"Oh, yes." McCanical retreated into the house for a minute, returning with a small sack of coins. He tossed it to Austin.

With a smile, Austin nodded and opened up the pouch. To her unpleasant surprise, the coins were mostly bronze, with a smattering of silver coins nestled at the bottom.

Noticing Austin's displeasure, McCanical frowned slightly, embarrassed.

"I know it's not as much as you expected. The farm's stumbled on troubled times, and money's a bit thin. I-"

"Please," Austin interrupted. "Charles. It's not a problem." She pocketed the pouch with a partially feigned smile. "A pleasure doing business with you."

"Wait," McCanical stopped her as she turned around. "At least stay for dinner. My children will be back from the fields and my wife will be back from the market soon. She makes a mean mutton stew." He smiled genuinely, making Austin feel guilty.

"No, it's fine, honestly." Austin patted him on the shoulder. "Have a nice night, Charles."

The old farmer smiled. "You too, Austin. May the Goddess watch over you."

"And you as well." Austin gave a final wave and departed.

Austin shoved the bag of coins into her side pouch as she began the trek back into the city. The sun had nearly fully set by now, and that meant that the pubs would be open. She tallied in her head how many drinks she could buy and still afford to pay the inn bill.

By the time she had reached the inn she frequented, the sky was completely black, save for the spillage of stars. The pub was rowdy and crowded, with several men and women huddled around tables and booths, playing cards and conversing merrily. Miraculously, she found an open seat at the bar counter, and beckoned to the tender for a mug of beer.

A hand on her shoulder startled her, and she whirled around, ready for a confrontation. There was no need.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Austin! Small world!" Two of her friends hung over her, smiling.

"Jelo! Kazehh!" She smiled widely and shook their hands in greeting. "To what do I owe the honor?"

Kazehh grinned and took an empty seat next to her. "There's no occasion, just a coincidence. We've both finished our jobs out in Heroa, and we decided to come home for a bit." He gestured to the tender, who delivered Austin's beer to her. "I've got this round."

"You don't have to do that," Austin smiled. Kazehh put the coins on the counter, ignoring her.

"Nonsense! I'm not strapped for money. And besides, it's from Jelo's pockets."

Jelo waved at his belt and found that his money pouch had disappeared. Kazehh laughed and tossed it back to him.

"You wiseass! I should've let that arquebusier shoot you."

"Then who would have saved you from that angry guardsman?"

"Touche." He gestured to the bartender for a mug of ale.

"So what have you two been up to?" Austin asked, sipping her beer.

"Kazehh and I have been frolicking around Heroa for the past few months. We've been doing some work for the Mask." Jelo took a swig of his ale. "It pays well."

"Very well," Kazehh specified. "And what have you been up to?"

"Not much," Austin lamented, draining the last dregs of her beer. "I haven't really traveled outside Rubia in the last few months."

"Well you're in luck," Jelo said as he swigged his ale. "A mutual friend of ours set us up with a contact here in Armed and Ready. In fact, he should be in one of the back rooms right now."

"Really?" Austin sprang up at the prospect of actual work. As much as she liked Farmer McCanical, running errands for him wasn't her idea of a fulfilling career. "Will you let me tag along?"

"Well I didn't tell you just to brag," Jelo said, smiling. "Kazehh, are you ready?"

He responded by downing the bottom half of his beer and turning the mug over on the bar. "Let's go."

The trio walked into the back room, where Kazehh rapped an odd rhythm on a door in the back. In response, they heard a clack and a creak as they rusty door was unlocked and dragged open. Before them stood a somewhat suspicious man, dressed in a black cloak with blue silk imprints along the seams. He smiled.

"I see you've brought a friend."

"Is that a problem?" Jelo asked, somewhat apprehensive.

"Not at all. The more the merrier. Please, step on in."

The cloaked man shut the door behind him as they entered, and he beckoned to a table in the middle of the surprisingly well-lit room. They sat.

"Greetings, my friends." He spoke with an odd drag on his voice, not quite like an Outlander but definitely like someone close to the north. Maybe Monochromian or Icebergian, but probably Renoran, judging by the silk. "I have heard much of you two. As for you," he said as he turned to Austin. "You, I have not heard about. Who might you be?"

"Austin," she stated flatly. "Who are you?"

"It's considered rude to ask that question of your employer." His expression darkened, then lightened again just as quickly. "But I like your directness. You may call me Cinder."

"Nice to meet you, Cinder," Kazehh interjected dryly. "But if you have work for us, I'd like to get to it. Happy hour ends soon," he clarified.

"Fair enough." Cinder pulled out a small envelope, marked with a seal of a small bowl and sword. The seal of Milk and Cereal.

"I don't know if you've heard or not, but there's going to be a Diet soon. I have contacts in the court of the Interteam League, and King McDouggal has been getting paranoid. He's sent out notices for mercenaries to supplement his escort, and I can get you three in the door. I've heard that you two have a reputation for morality, which grants him a bit of extra security. Can you vouch for her as well?"

"She's probably a better person than either of us," Jelo noted jovially, and he patted Austin on the back.

Cinder chuckled. "Very good. The Diet is in mid-October. I can secure you speedy passage to Milk and Cereal, and you'll be there in less than four days. Sound good?"

The trio exchanged affirmative glances before returning their focus to Cinder. "I think we've reached an agreement," Austin confirmed. "But what of our pay?"

"Your pay is negotiable, but not with me. Take it up with McDouggal." Cinder nodded. "A pleasure doing business with you."

"And with you." Kazehh nodded to Cinder as he and his friends left the room. The door closed behind them, and Cinder bolted it shut.

As they walked back into the main room, Jelo broke the silence. "So, who's excited for the Diet?" He opened his arms theatrically, hoping for a response.

"I definitely am," Austin said. Finally, she could get out of Armed and Ready. Peaceful as it was, there weren't a lot of opportunities for work, and Milk and Cereal was sure to be a change of pace at least.

"Happy hour's nearly over," Kazehh intoned.

Austin laughed and turned to her friends.

"Don't worry, boys. Drinks are on me."

September 28, 8 ATC

City of Renora, Duchy of Flower-Power, Kingdom of Renora

Coronam sat pensively in the Council chambers, waiting for the Arkos delegation to arrive. He knit his fingers and rested his chin on his hands. On either side of him, Opifexa and Cinder pored over their papers and documents, trying to figure out if there were any other lords that they could bribe, blackmail or negotiate with for votes.

"Cinder," Coronam mumbled. His spymaster looked up from the sheaf of papers in front of him. "How was your visit to south Rubia?"

"Bumblebee is a parliament, and their members vote individually. I tried to sway as many as I could, but I couldn't do it all directly, so I make no promises.

"The claimant states were much easier to sway. Most recently, the Countess Jillian of Armed and Ready has been...convinced to vote against Inferno, as have most of the Bumblebee offshoots."

Coronam nodded and leaned back in his seat, his doubts soothed. "Opifexa."

Opifexa looked up from her documents. "Yes?"

The creak of the chamber doors interrupted her, and the three of them diverted their attention to their visitors. Through the door, the Arkos delegation came: the five Oligarchs and General Zealander, the Oligarchy's official Advisor.

Colonel Strike nodded to Coronam and beckoned for his fellow Oligarchs and Zealander to sit. Coronam turned his attention to the General, who possessed an odd sort of familiarity about him. The sound of Strike's voice prevented him from exploring that line of thought further.

"How has the work in Rubia gone, Coronam?"

The Renoran king sat back in his chair, somewhat disappointed with his own progress. "Progress has been slow, but we have managed to sway several leaders over to our side. Even so, Inferno's hold over Rubia must be stronger than we originally thought."

"And what of McDouggal?" One of the Oligarchs spoke up, patting down the hem of his priestly robe. "The Interteam League holds votes vital to our cause."

"He has received the mercenaries he requested," Cinder informed him. "If he is a man of any honor, then he will vote with our bloc."

"And how goes the campaign in Heroa?" Opifexa took the opportunity to ask her question.

Strike steepled his hands disappointedly and opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by Zealander.

"We expected Heroa to vote as a bloc with Inferno. Most of Heroa was unassailable, but we managed to gather a not-insignificant number of votes for ourselves."

"And Villainia?" Coronam questioned.

"Much more of a mixed bag. I will have our agents work harder to sniff out potential voters for as long as we can."

"I will have the Arkosian Archpresbyter try to negotiate with them," Strike said. "A good portion of Villainia is Straightist. It seems, though, that the new Church there is undermining their influence."

"The new Church?" Coronam leaned forward, concerned and intrigued. "What is this new Church you speak of?"

"The Church of Thorns," Strike explained, "is a new religious movement that originated beyond the mountains. They have some elements similar to our religions, but they have a Scion who leads the entire religion. Zissman, I believe he is known as."

"Their Church is militant too," Zealander elaborated. "We believe they had a hand in the Yurist Uprising that struck three years ago. Similar episodes of violence occurring in provinces they preach to are becoming more and more common, but we've gathered nothing concrete."

Coronam nodded slowly, considering the new development. "Good to know. Good to know." He stood and bowed towards the Oligarchs. "Thank you for your time."

"And yours as well." All six returned the gesture and turned to leave.

"General Zealander?" Coronam called out, and the General turned to face him. "If I may have a word?" He gestured for Opifexa and Cinder to leave.

As soon as the Council Room was empty, Coronam sat down facing Zealander, who merely eyed him with a latent curiosity. After a moment, Coronam smiled.

"I knew I recognized you. You never could fool me, Vulpix." He laughed heartily, and "Zealander" couldn't help but smile.

"You always were too perceptive for your own good, Junior," Vulpix laughed. "Did the beard not fool you?"

Coronam chuckled. "Not for long. Where have you been all these years?"

"Outside the borders," Vulpix answered. "Beyond the North Mountains. I stayed with Yokei in his village."

"He's still alive?" Coronam smiled. "He was a tough old bastard."

Vulpix chuckled. "He still is, though age softened him up a bit. How did you get to be the King of Renora?"

"Marriage," Coronam replied. "Zentics died two years after the war ended, but he was sterile and had no children. His only living relative was his niece, who was betrothed to me. After I took the throne, I used my uncle's remaining loyalists to clean slate, and all traces of my identity were buried." He paused. "And what of you?"

Vulpix shifted in his seat and thought for a minute. "The Yurist Uprising in Arkos was in full strength when I returned. I made my way back to Arkos, thinking that maybe the problem would solve itself before I got there. I was wrong.

"The Oligarchy was unable to effectively manage the military, so I arrived, made the gamble of revealing my identity, and offered them my services. So desperate were they that they appointed me the head of the new Military Advisory Committee and gave me a new identity. I suppressed the rebels, though it took a few months, and I became official Advisor to the Oligarchy."

Coronam shook his head. "They let you live? Personally, I wouldn't have, not with your reputation." He coughed. "No offense."

Vulpix smiled again. "None taken. By then I had cemented my influence over the power structure of the nation. Any effort to remove me would have damned them as well." His smile dimmed. "Arkos is mine once again."

"So it seems," Coronam remarked. They sat in silence for a bit. "I believe it's best you be on your way. It's a pleasant surprise to see you alive and well."

"Indeed." Vulpix shook his old friend's hand. "Farewell, Junior."

"Farewell, Vulpix." The General nodded a final time and left the chambers.

The five Oligarchs were waiting impatiently outside. As Vulpix exited, Strike walked beside him.

"Do you think we have a chance to defeat Inferno?" he asked. "If what you've said is true and the Church does have their hands in it, then it may be in our best bet to abstain from this vote."

"No." Vulpix turned around and eyes all of them fiercely. "We cannot give Inferno or the Church any advantage. We must all rally to defeat them, because we have no chance to do it separately. Am I clear?"

Strike sighed. "Yes."

"Very good." Vulpix turned around, and they continued walking through the halls of Coronam's castle.