Authors’ note: This chapter is taken from the journal of Prince Avalon of House Artorius. Well, this Rummy character sure had made a proper mess in his wake. The city of Carnwennan was in shambles, dozens of noble Houses extinguished or ruined, and Gods know how many lives- highborn or otherwise- were reaped as a result of this madness. I would wager that it would take a generation or two for Carnwennan to recover, if it ever recovers.I am still piecing together what had happened based on what the scouts and knights had found, but this much is clear- he is no common commoner. It takes a certain arrogance and competence to plan and execute destruction of this scale.The decisive (and irreversible) nature of his action implies that he was never content living his lot and will never be content living his lot as the Gods intended. This man was prepared from the very beginning to defy the Pantheon and the natural order of this world, collateral damage be damned.In a way, both factions w
“Kneel, peasant! For you stand in the presence of Prince Avalon of House Artorius!” My shifty Scoutmaster announced.The prisoner, who is in chains and manacles, slowly and hesitantly kneels in front of me. He seems to be a portly fellow of 40 or so winters.His hair is disheveled, and the state of his dress suggests that he was in the middle of an afternoon nap when the intrepid Turt apprehended him. “You may stand.” I cordially invited my new prisoner. The man looks wary of my invitation until Turt nudges him from behind. He tentatively rises up and stands before me. His face is understandably tense, as if he’s deciding between betraying his longtime friend and saving his family from certain imprisonment. A difficult choice, I must admit and sympathize. But unfortunately for him, I intend on making this a really easy decision.“I am going to be honest with you, peasant. I will sentence you to hang as a spy no matter what you say to me today. The only difference you can make today is
In an austere meeting room of the City Hall with ornate furnishing, I begin my speech in front of all the relevant factions- my Legion’s general staff, the nobles of Carnwennan, and the general staff of the 626th Legion. Every one of them are in full military or noble dress, sparing no expenses. “Gentlemen, it has been a challenging moon and a half, but we have finally saved Carnwennan from the brink.” After waiting for the polite applause to die down, I continue. “Now, I will announce the reason why I came to Carnwennan. I was called here to accomplish the Quest that the Pantheon had bestowed upon me- the capture of Adept Rummy and his associates.” A wave of confused murmurs and “who?” erupts at my announcement. Fully understandable, I admit. But it is not the duty of mortals to publicly question the will of the Gods. Nor is it the duty of subjects to publicly question the will of their prince. That is the natural order of the world we live in. In response to this chatter, my Palad
*BOOM* The last Ranger fell upon his knees and slumped down, clutching his chest under the mid-day sun. Soon he would join his comrades (and my former comrades) and depart the mortal plane. After I slinged the Garand over my shoulder, I cautiously approached the 4 fallen Rangers. As messed up as it is to loot them, my growing militia has equipment needs and military-grade body armor doesn’t grow on trees.As I turned one of the bodies over to strip it of the leather armor, the not-dead-yet Ranger grabbed my hand with what little strength he had left. Unlike the movies and books, people usually don’t immediately die after getting shot. The blood loss takes time. “It’ll be your day soon, traitor!” He croaked with all the malice and bitterness he could still muster. “Until then, mind if I borrow your stuff?.” I nonchalantly brushed aside his arm and continued looting. My former comrade gradually lost his consciousness as he bled out. By the time I was done looting him, he had expired.
“Here is a new draft of the report on the iron shortage, Forge-master Rummy.” Nairi helpfully handed me the finalized draft of the report cobbled together from a series of disorganized notes and illegible calculations from yours truly. “Shall we go over the report together now so I could finalize it?” She asked in her typical angel-sweet voice. “Correction: I will go over and finalize the draft. You still need your rest.” I pointedly replied. Apparently, my overworked apprentice had a fainting episode while I was out in the Elven territory. She was teaching some of the newbies how to press the ammo cartridges at the forge-smithy around noon-time when she fainted for a moment. It was probably heat exhaustion or heat stroke from the ever-burning forge fires, but this is unacceptable. Considering his stance on work-life balance, Ronnie Lee would be rolling in his grave if he saw this. Nairi’s sunny enthusiasm for forge-smithy sometimes distracted from the fact that she was still a matur
The day started out like any other in these past few months- me waking up buck naked with two beautiful women by my side (equally naked, I may add!). Sure, I was usually exhausted from a jam-packed 10+ hour workday by the time I got back home, but the sight of 2 alluringly half-naked women bent over on my bed invigorated me in ways that even a potent cocaine and methamphetamine cocktail could not. The women of my harem had decided that 2 of them would “service” me at any given night while the other one would rest up and watch the kids. Of course, some part of me wanted to take all 3 of them at once every night. But I think I would drive myself into an early grave if I overworked my poor heart like that, especially if I had to work 10+ hours the day after…Tali had fortunately integrated into the harem with no drama. Of course, since my 1st wife Emma was the one that encouraged her to jump into the degeneracy, she had no problem with handing over the nominal role of the “head wife” to
Sigh… I supposed it was very on-brand that shit hit the fan on the one day that I was off. After all these months of pulling 12 hour workdays, I figured I deserved a little morning break with the kiddos and their wolf puppies. Loki just had another batch of puppies with members of his impressive harem, so I was letting them mingle and play together outside on a beautiful sunny day. I was able to enjoy the blissful tranquility of puppies and babies for precisely 13 minutes before the castle bells were rung.To our credit, we responded quickly to the impending crisis. Within half an hour after the signal flare was sighted, everyone outside the walls were drawn inside and all militia members were at the battlements manning their posts. The non-combatants were heading to the arms factory for shelter (and to be gang-pressed into emergency ammo workers). The annual drills I made all of us do really paid off in that regard. I arrived at the battlements roughly 10 minutes after I’d heard the
“You ready buddy?” I gave Loki an affectionate nose pat (Loki is far too tall for me to do head pats by now).“AWOOOO~” An armored Loki replied as he sniffed my neck. He was wearing a leather cap on his head (with 2 holes cut out for his ears), a leather chest piece that covered the front of his neck and down his chest, and a leather armor around the stirrup protecting his spine. “Yeah, you are! You’re my good boy!” I gave his ears a good petting and hopped on. Tali was pulled up shortly after. We sallied out of the gate in a blur. Loki gracefully jumped across the various trenchlines that lined the field and arrived at a stone obelisk with a “700m” carving near the top.Tali and I got off Loki and waited for the other side to arrive. Within a few minutes, a diplomatic party of 4 rode their war horses towards our position. Based on the fancy gear, fancy flag, and fancy horse (those things are twice as large as the horses in Carnwennan), this is the guy I needed to meet. The diploma