Returning home: Part one

The third rule of the Order is reached a violent end. The elves that were once driven to near extinction by the Orders relentless purges flooded their western borders and swept towns away in the night. From the North, great ice storms smashed into human settlements and forced them from their homes. From the South, hordes of Amazonian and desert Mamono took over territory with startling ease. And from the East, the well trained armies of Zipangu and her allies took scores of coastal cities. This continued until the Order completely collapsed and the Demon lord pronounced herself Sovereign of the continent. However, with all the attention on the sacking of the Order’s capital in Lescatie, a group of humans were able to slip through Mamono territory and to the coast. Picking up knights, mercenaries, sailors, farmers, families, and anyone human who would throw in their lot with them. By the time the Demon lord noticed that anyone had left, the fugitives had stolen a small fleet of ships and a fair amount of supplies from the celebrating Zipangu navy, smashed out of the blockade, and made for open seas. The Demon lord was furious. How could a small group of humans escape her armies clutches? But soon the thought was pushed aside, there were many men to rape and more daughters to make. She told her ally Poseidon to keep an eye out for the stolen fleet but the incident was soon forgotten.

Some 2000 miles from the continent that was once the home of the Order, a rowboat came to a stop on a sandy beach. A large man strode onto the shore and gazed around him. His face was marred by scars and the rest was covered by a scraggly beard. He turned and motioned to a group of armed men to begin securing the area. Another boat followed by more began to land and its occupants disembark. A brown haired woman approached the large man and set her hand upon his arm.

“We made it.“ she told him.

The man looked down at her and he smiled slightly.

“Yeah, we did.“

He placed his hand on her pregnant belly and rubbed it gently.

“We did.“

She reached up and cupped his face and kissed him tenderly.

“You kept us safe, like you promised.“

The man nodded then looked inland, admiring the new land that would become home.

Your Great-great-great-great-grandfather would be the first human to set foot on the new continent. Your Great-great-great-grandfather would be the first human born on the island. Your Great-great-grandfather would be among the men who laid the foundation for the Republic. Your Great-grandfather would be one of the most celebrated beast hunters the Republic has ever known. Your grandfather would be first man to best a Mamono with his bare fists on open water while masturbating (your grandfather was an odd man) and your father would lead the Republic into a golden age of science and discovery. It would also be the case that he would be the first man to suggest openly to the Senate that your people attempt to retake their homeland. You had the idea to be the first human to set foot in Old Order territory in a long time. Be it through invasion or exploration.

Now you are of a young age, a little over nineteen summers and the worst thing you've faced was a shark girl who seemed very very lost. And all you really had to do was take a couple of shots at her with your repeater before she hurried along her way. You had instructions to shoot to kill but for some reason that really didn’t sit too well with you. They just looked too human for you to shoot. Something about the terror you could see in their eyes. Made you think twice about shooting, like they were just confused why you wanted to hurt them. You never went any further than warning shots.

You mulled this over as you sat in the guard tower overlooking the port. The sound of the wind blowing through the docked ships white sails and cries of the seagulls filled your ears. A train whistle blew and a column of smoke floated from it’s engine. The smell of salt water, the bakery down the docks, the fisheries and market, grilling meat and the fresh ocean air filled your nose. You smiled, happy with the bustling city you called home. Warlington. The people your Great-great-great-grandfather brought along weren't the most imaginative folks, but they put blood, sweat, and tears in making your little port a livable city and for this you were thankful.

Warlington was a small fishing town outside of the island's capital, Fernsworth. Settled early in the islands colonial days, it still had the large stone walls that your Great-great-great-grandfather was so adamant about being built. Cannons lined the walls and the occasional soldier could be seen lazily marching along it. The city had grown quickly and soon most of the southern tip of the island was either farms or small towns.

You had joined the army a year ago and they had whipped into shape. You felt pride in patrolling the streets of your hometown, even if the most you ever have to do is help the town watch lock up a rowdy drunk or two.

“Oi! Anon!“ a voice cried, snapping you back to reality.

Peering over the side of the watch tower you see your friend Lawrence waving up at you. Lawrence Hawkins was born three rooms over from you in the local doctor’s clinic. His father was a piece of shit Highwayman who ran the minute his mother told him she was pregnant. His mother passed away when you were both 10. You both in the same house grew up playing together, were school mates, and worked on the docks together. Like yourself, he joined the army but was stationed in one of the northern cities. You were pleased to see him again and made it quite clear to him.

“You fucking cunt Lawrence! You still haven't replaced our window from when you were last over! Ma’s gonna rip your head off if she catches you around here!“

Lawrence grinned up at you and waved you off.

“Can’t kill me if she doesn't know I'm here, right?“

You roll your eyes.

“Suppose so. Why ya ‘ere?“

Lawrence pulls his shirt up and shows the bandages wrapped around his torso.

“Got stabbed up in Northpass, Captain gave me two weeks leave. Thought i’d come down a see my best friend.“

Glancing at the hourglass sitting next to you, you shout a reply.

“My shifts ‘bout over. Be down soon.“

Lawrence nods and shouts back.

“See ya at the pub then?“

“Yeah.“

“Right, see ya.“

Lawrence makes his way back into town as you collect your effects. Blue cap, white scarf, blue overcoat, Repeater. Right that’s everything. You pick up the hourglass and furiously shake it in an effort to make the remaining sands go faster. Watches weren't allowed because as your drill Sergeant would put it,

“Light could reflect off giving your dumbass away.“

Though you thought that was a little silly as you were sitting in a giant stone tower with your Republic's flag fluttering over you. He made you do double laps that day. As the last grain trickled down, you raced down the ladder and down to the barracks. Saluting the Sergeant, placing the hourglass and repeater on the table in front of him, and strapping your revolver to your hip while reattaching your watch to your wrist, you dash out the door into the street and jog towards the bar. Passing through the market you wave to the old lady who couldn't remember your name, wave to the cute daughter of the sheriff who you wished would remember your name, wave to the sheriff who you wished would forget your name, you find yourself at the local pub. The Knight and the Hound pub. A nice little bar run by a nice little man. A family friend and personal friend of your slightly insane grandfather. Entering you are met with a chorus of Hellos and How are you’s. You greet them back as you slip off your coat and tuck it under your arm. The bartender, Owen O'Connor, gives you a broad smile and motions you to come over.

“Anon, my boy! How are you?“

“Fine Owen, thanks. How ‘bout you? Business good?“

“Oh it’s treating me fine boy, just fine.“

A couple of patrons raised their mugs and agreed. Owen laughed and placed a mug on the bar and filled it with beer, then pushed it to you. You dig into your pockets for coin but Owen laughs again and waves it off.

“No charge, Lawrence is in the back. Told me to tell you when you came in.“

Nodding, you thank him and make your way to the back of the bar where you catch sight of Lawrence sitting at a table in the corner. He motions for you to come over.

Sitting down with your mug, you grin at Lawrence.

“So how did that Marcy girl work out?” you ask him.

He chuckles and shrugs his shoulders.

“She was fucking the blacksmith. Figured she would have a better life with someone with a steady job than some grunt like me.“

You frown and clap him on the shoulder.

“Don’t think like that, there’s a great woman out there for you. You just gotta find her.“

He nods and takes a drink from his half full mug and then his smile reappears.

“Enough of that shit, have I got news for you.“

You cock an eyebrow and take a drink.

“Your Dad was approved.“

You almost choke.

“What?“ You manage to ask.

“Yeah, Nathan came through Northpass the night I got stabbed. We had a couple drinks and he said that Rochdale got word by train that a survey team will be leaving Doveport in a month or two. The council has called on the Army and Navy to provide security.“

You sigh and run your hand through your hair. Your old man had been obsessed with the idea of returning the mainland for years now. Lawrence nodded and spoke before taking another drink.

“Yeah and I hear he’s putting together an expedition team.“

Your gaze snaps to him.

“What?“

Lawrence finishes his beer, wipes his mouth, and places the mug on the table.

“Yup. He wants to land on that damned continent himself.“

You look at him like he’s crazy.

“Damn continent? Lawrence, that’s our home land over there. We’re destined to take it back. We HAVE to take it back.“

A couple of the customers raise their glasses and let out a “Amen“ before going back to their drinks. Lawrence looks at you tiredly.

“Anon, they can keep it. We got the Republic, our guns, and more troops than we ever had over there. I’d like to see them try and take Fernsworth. Hell, they probably couldn't even take the coast, let alone the island. You and me both know the coast is bristling with all sorts of firepower, enough to smash any navy.“

You scowl at him.

“Well I wanna knock those damned demons outta the palace and plant our Republic’s flag up their cunt lord’s ass.“

Lawrence laughed.

“Gonna take the whole Demon lord’s armies on by yourself?“

Shrugging, you chuckle. Then begin to laugh.

“Yeah, I guess it sounds a little dumb. But I at least wanna see our old homeland.“

Lawrence nodded.

“Yeah that would be something eh?“

The two of you sit there for a moment before Lawrence slams his hand on the table.

“Damn i’m bored. Let’s do some shit before we see your old man. Ideas?“

“We should probably go say hello to my ma, she’ll skin us both.“ you suggest.

Lawrence nodded and the both of you stood up. You pulled your overcoat back on and toss him his. He catches it and pulls it on, you nod and the both of you turn to leave. Owen smiles and waves.

“Tell your mother that Nora and I send our regards!“

You wave back and push the door open and the two of you set off to your house. The two of you made your way through the market area. You had to stop as a few people greeted you and Lawrence with a smile. The market area of Warlington was one of the first areas built around the fortifications that made up the inner section of the city. With everyone from blacksmiths to bakers making a living in the town. The stores range from stalls to buildings, with goods of every kind available. A fruit vendor flagged you and Lawrence down. The man smiled and finished a deal with a older woman who placed some apples in a bag then looked to you, saw your uniforms, and smiled while patting both of you on the shoulders before going on her way. Good people in Warlington.

The vendor grinned and grabbed two apples and then handed them to you and Lawrence.

“For last week, you and any of the Town watch are welcome to an apple any day.“

You remember now, a steel beam had fallen off a train a week ago. The vendor’s son had been talking to the conductor when it fell and then walked right under it. You had been on patrol when you watched the cables snap and the beam tumble off. You barely were able to yank the boy backwards, just in time to keep him from being crushed. The kid ran off before you could chew him out for not paying attention but it didn’t matter now, as long he was safe.

“Thanks Pat, just keep an eye on the kid, the Guard can’t be everywhere at once.“

Pat laughed, as he pulled you into a hug. Clasping you on the shoulder, he spoke.

“Bless you and the Guard. Martin told me yesterday he wants to be a Guard when he grows up. Waving around a broomstick, “huntin’ elves“ he told me.“

You smiled and shook his hand. Good to see people having the backs of the Law, makes your job easier and the people happier. Lawrence tapped you on the shoulder.

“If we wanna make it to ya ma’s by dinner then we oughta get going.“

You nod, then turn to Pat.

“Good seeing you Pat, thanks for the apple.“

He smiles again and waves. The two of you left the market area and walked towards the more open area of the residential districts. As you and Lawrence make your way towards the Inner Gate, he turns to you with a smirk.

“A regular fucking hero, eh?“

You shake your head.

“I’m doing my job, Law. Nothing more.“

He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. When you reached the inner gate, you waved to a sentry walking along the walls. He gave a lazy salute and then went back to his rounds.

The Inner Gate was the entrance to the Residential area, which housed most of the middle class families. Despite being fairly well off, your father insisted that you grow up around other children and know the hardships that the poor faced. He vehemently hatred the idea of his son growing up to be some spoiled, pompous brat. He held no contempt for the upper class as a whole, only the actions of a few spoiled. You remember getting in a fist fight with a politician's son who tried to strangle a woman in an alley after she refused to come home with him. Left him with a broken nose and spitting threats about his what his father would do. Your father was put in the spotlight for it, but didn’t mind the slightest. He turned what could have been a serious blow to his career into an investigation of the boy’s father. Turns out he had some connections to a prostitute ring and was involved in several acts of piracy off the coast of the northern parts of the island. Both the father and son received jail time and a hefty fine, but worse a massive blow to their reputation. When you apologized for making trouble, he smiled and patted you on the shoulder.

“We are defined by our actions, Anon. What we do today will affect how people remember us tomorrow.“

You took that to heart. You shook your head and cleared the fogginess from your brain. You arrived outside of your house. A medium sized two story house painted white with red tiling. Not extravagant, but homey. You walked up the steps and pushed open the door. You held it open a second longer so the Lawrence could step in as well. You unbutton your coat and hung it on the coat rack near the door. Lawrence handed you his and you did the same. The smell of roast beef and vegetables flowed from the kitchen.

“Ma! Emma! I’m home!“ you called.

There was a clatter of pots and pans as your mother came into the hallway. Your mother was on the short side, but made up for it in fearsomeness and spunk. Your father met her at a bar when another man slapped her rear. He shoved the man whose friend sucker punched him into a table. Your father woke up in her lap, after she wiped the floor with the two men. She grew up on one of the farms in the north.

“They breed them strong and fierce up there.“ your father had said.

 She hugged you tightly then noticed Lawrence. He looked at the floor and nudged the rug with his foot.

“Hi Mrs. Anonson. I’m back in town.“

She narrowed her eyes and let you go. The tension in the air was thick. She walked over to him.

“Lawrence Hawkins, the last time you were here you broke my front window with a ball.“

Lawrence shrank away as she walked towards him. She cuffed his ears then pulled him down for a kiss on the cheek and a hug. After what looked like Lawrence’s least preferable hug, she let him go and went back towards the kitchen.

“It’s good to see you home again, dear.“

She stopped, then turned around. Her eyes locked on his stomach. His eyes widened and he took a step towards the door. He had no chance. While you and Lawrence had both spent the last two years of your lives in the Guard, your mother had spent most of her life either lifting feed, fending off animals, or raising children. She was on him like a wolf on a fawn. She pulled up his shirt and inspected the bandages.

“Lawrence, what happened to you?“

Lawrence rubbed his ear and whined.

“Nothing, jeez. I fell.“

She frowned and prodded the bandage. Lawrence yelped.

“Don’t lie to me Lawrence Hawkins. I spent seven years go my life making sure you didn’t become a highwayman.“

Lawrence tried to squirm out of her gripped, to no avail.

“Ok! Ok! Stop it! I got stabbed! I got stabbed in Northpass!“

“NORTHPASS! WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN NORTHPASS?“ your mother demanded.

“I’m stationed there. Stop pokin’ me.“

“THEY PUT YOU IN NORTHPASS!“

“Yeah Mrs. Anonson, can you stop yelling?“

She stood, hauling the man to his feet.  She pulled his shirt down and dragged him towards the kitchen. He cast you a pleading glance, you shrugged helplessly. You follow them into the kitchen. Your sister Emma is setting the table. Emma was the sweetest sister a man could have. She spent most of her childhood patching you and Lawrence after the both of you had gotten into fights or some other equally stupid action. At twenty-seven summers she should have been married, but according to her, she hadn’t found the right man. Countless suitors had offered her their hand, some more forcefully than others. You and Lawrence gave several rowdy men a fist to the jaw after getting a bit too personal with her. She looked to Lawrence with a cheerful smile adorning her face.

“Hello Lawrence, it’s so good to see you around the house again.“

Lawrence’s followed your mother around the room, watching her every move, ready to bolt when the chance arose. His eyes flicked over to Emma and a small smile graced his face.

“Good to see you too Emma.“

She giggled and moved to the oven, pulling out a platter of roast beef. You mother turned to your sister.

“Emma dear, It isn’t burnt is it?“

Lawrence began to stand up, and you mother turned to him.

“Sit down. Run, and I will catch you.“

Lawrence did as he was told. Your mother then took the pot of vegetables and placed it on the table.

“Anon, be a dear and get some silverware.“

“Yes mum.“