by Taj McCoy El
“I’m begging you, Fluff.” He got down on his knees. “Trust me. Forget about the Column, forget about Ba'alquion, I’m begging, literally begging you to save my people. Please say you trust me.”
She looked deep into his eyes and saw the longing for her trust. How could she trust Jensen when she couldn’t judge his loyalties? What oaths held him from sharing his life with her? Normally she would say no, but this wasn’t a normal situation. Jensen’s eyes were begging, but she felt none of her heartstrings pulled like she did with Grax.
His knees must’ve been getting sore as they stared at each other, neither flinching. She really wanted to say no, but for the sake of argument and Grax she reconsidered—mostly so she wouldn’t have to hear it from Grax.
Finally, she threw up her hands in defeat. “Okay, Jensen I trust you.”
“Praise Atmos! I thought I would never get ye to say those words.”
After he climbed back into his chair, he called the barmaid over and ordered a round of drinks for everyone.
“So, I just say I trust you and you think this is over?” Mayah was perturbed beyond reason. Heat was rising from her neck like steam, she was so frustrated.
Jensen held up his hand to stop her tirade. “Now that ye’ve said you trust me, I get some more leeway with sharing information.”
“Well, speak up. What’s this new information?” Margaret asked.
“Sorry, can’t tell ye.”
Happiness popped into existence and Mayah stood on the cushion in the booth.
Jensen raised both of his hands to fend her off. “I can’t tell ye because I have to show ye.”
“But first, I need ye to say these oaths.” He reached into his bag and slid them all papers with duplicate oaths on them, which Mayah finished reading first.
“This says that if we break this oath we get permanently labeled as an Oathbreaker and even being reborn won’t help.”
She looked at Grax and Margaret, “The Oathbreaker symbol will follow you forever.”
“That’s because it’s an Imperial Oath. Oaths to the emperor work a bit differently,” Jensen explained, “and all it says is that ye will not disclose what ye see tonight. I know I’m in shoddy standing right now, but if ye knew what I know, ye would take the oath. What I have to show ye is gonna make yer mind melt.”
The drinks arrived and Jensen grabbed his. “I’ll just head to the bar while ye fine folk have a think.”
He got out of his chair and began turn around, but stopped. “Last thought. Fluff, have I steered you wrong yet?” He stared deep into her eyes—like laser cutting through metal—for a moment and then walked away.
“What do you guys think?” she asked the others.
Margaret said, “I think the Oathbreaker part is quite severe.”
“So do I,” Grax added.
“Do you think it’s worth it to see what he’s talking about?”
“I still like the guy.” Grax screwed up his face. “My gut instinct says to trust him. My gamer instinct says free loot: come and get me.”
Margaret took a sip. “This oath only makes us stay quiet about what we see. It doesn’t leave us beholden to him.” She tapped her glass with a fingernail. “It seems more like a secret sales pitch than anything else.”
“You bring up a good point, Margaret. If this is the sales pitch, what is he selling?”
“Looks like there’s only one way to find out,” she said.
“Looks like,” Mayah added
“I’m in if you two are,” Margaret said.
“I wouldn’t mind taking a little look see.” A smile crept over Grax’s feline features.
“I guess that’s decided. Let’s get this over with.”
Mayah called to Jensen, who came over closely followed by the barmaid.
“Ladies and gentlecats, this is Darcy. She will witness the oaths with me.”
“Witness?” Margaret was catching the frustration bug that was flying around the table.
“Now, hold on a second, Jensen. What is this?” Mayah almost yelled at him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just a minor technicality. We are letting ye in on something very, very big.”
Darcy nodded her assent.
We…??? And what does Darcy have to do with it?
“Please bear with me. I promise it will all makes sense to ye sooner than later. Now, if ye’d hurry up and read the oaths one at a time, we’ll end all of this baloney and get back to some proper salutations.”
They each read the oath very slowly and carefully. Messing up on an oath to the Emperor could be hazardous to one’s gaming life. They all did the golden glowy thing and then followed Jensen out of the tavern.
He led the way in silence, stalking down side streets and a few alleyways to reach their destination. Jensen stopped in of front of a house, which, if described as ramshackle would be an optimistic stretch—and an insult to ramshackle huts everywhere.
Jensen motioned at the door and spoke to Mayah. “Give it a kick. But don’t break yer foot.”
Mayah kicked the flimsy looking door halfheartedly. It didn’t move.
There was no sound from the door. She kicked the door again and she heard the impact of her foot against the door, but the door itself made no other sound. It didn’t boom like metal or wood.
What is this door made of?
“Now, I’m sure you can figure out what type of place we’re about to enter, here’s your last chance to turn back.” He paused, no one moved. “I didn’t think you would back out after getting this far down the terravole tunnel.”
He pulled out his shield from his pocket. It was a duplicate of the shield he had given Mayah. He held the shield up to a dark, crumbly patch in the exterior by the door and pulled the door open. It creaked and dust fell from it.
Mayah followed him into the darkness beyond. She examined the door as she passed; it was just a plain, worn, wooden door. She even kicked it one last time and it sounded like a foot kicking a dilapidated, wooden door.
Trippy… I gotta figure that one out.
The doorway led into a small room with one flickering, dim, overhead light. It’s meager cone of light showed the walls and floor were bare crumbling concrete. There was a rickety chair in the corner.
“Shut the door if ye wouldn’t mind, Margaret.”
The door closed with a deep clang and multiple thunks. It sounded like multiple locks slid into place, and a ratcheting clicked from it like it was winding up in tension and finally ended in the silence of a soundproof room. The negative pressure on her eardrums was unsettling.
“Now, remember yer oaths.” He pushed his shield against another dirty patch on the wall and the whole room started to descend.
“What in the world?” Margaret exclaimed.
“So cool. This is a secret base?” Grax asked.
“We’re almost there,” Jensen chuckled.
When the elevator stopped, one of the concrete walls ground to the side, revealing a large, brightly lit white room that looked like it went on forever. A bright, even light fell from the ceilings to evenly illuminate the space. It was filled with glass and metal cubicles trimmed with pristine white molding. It looked like it came right out of a futuristic sci-fi corporate office.
The hundreds of people inside were all wearing identical navy uniforms with a red stripe down the sleeves and the pants legs. Some moved with quick, military precision along the pathways between the large, open cubicles. Some sat at desks in the cubicles; they were typing on what looked like holographic screens and making calls on some weird type of telephones. Others were pushing delivery carts filled with parcels and papers.
Mayah heard the wall slide back into place and saw that it was marked by black and yellow caution paint. It stood in stark contrast against the all-white décor.
“So… as I was saying, I am Grand Sergeant Jensen Clanmeister of the Majestan Royal Column, and this is the Marine Tactical Division headquarters for the local Intel and Profil
ing Unit. Please follow me.”
“Headquarters?” Margaret gasped as she looked around.
“Profiling?” Mayah asked herself out loud.
Grax stumbled forward in awe. “This is your base?”
“Well, not my base. I’m number five in line of seniority. The training village, as ye know it, is a facility we use to gather information about the paladins. We socialize and introduce ye to Majesta while we find the ones that we think would be most helpful in defeating Ba'alquion.
“Before Mayah showed up, I was grooming Grax to be my pick. Now I have two recommendations to offer the brass. Ye have proven yourself to be outstanding characters of high moral fibre.”
“What about me?” Margaret asked with curiosity.
“Until recently, dear Margaret, and I say this as respectfully as possible, we believed ye were an unpolishable turd. Yer affiliation with Fluff has increased yer combat potential and gotten ye added to this party, so give yerself a pat on yer back fer that. I know that ye’re a team and will work better together, but now I’ve got to make the general understand that he doesn’t need to see ye as separate entities. Besides, ye can just say no to what he offers ye.”
“And what is he going to offer us?” Mayah asked as Jensen opened the door to a conference room and ushered them in.
“That,” he chuckled, “would be above my pay grade for the moment.”
He took a seat. “The general will be here in a moment, so get comfortable and let me brief ye on what I can.”
The trio of paladins took seats next to each other around the table.
“Based on a paladin’s incoming signal frequency we assess which type of environment will best suit them for growth. There are training villages that are better suited to aquatic lifestyles, space-faring races, and aerial or winged paladins. There are also underground villages for burrowing species and woodlands for arboreal paladins. We have made every village as appropriate for its inhabitants as possible with an aim towards quick growth.
“All of the villages are staffed with military personnel and kept secret from the rest of Majesta.”
“So, we are actually on a military base?” Margaret asked.
“Correct.”
“And everyone here is military personnel?” Grax asked
“Again, correct.”
“Even the Maams?” Mayah asked in disbelief.
“Affirmative.” He waited for any more questions and then asked, “Can I go on?”
They all nodded.
“The training villages are set up to make sure ye can survive in Majesta. Once we verify that, we let ye roam free. Some of ye, we would wish to follow. So, we befriend them and take part in their journeys and protect them from dying too often and losing levels.”
“So, you befriend us so that we can get rid of Ba'alquion for you?” Mayah probed.
“When ye say it like that it sounds a bit harsh.” He rubbed his jaw between his fingers. “Let’s talk about our situation. While Majestans may be powerful, we are not numerous. At last count, there were about 1.6 billion Majestans, total. That’s man, woman and child. Our military forces are about a third of the population. Paladins will soon outnumber us by almost three to one. By our estimates we need at least 200,000 of those to be as close as possible to a Majestan’s power level in the very near future. The danger of Ba'alquion is real and it’s coming.
“Now, to save my family, and I do have family, I found a couple of hopefuls that looked like they were trying to do great things and had good heads on their shoulders.”
He looked at Grax, “Well, mostly anyways. We tried to learn about them in order to see what they were aiming for. We’re already getting massive reports about ‘questers’ as we call them. Ye know the paladins that come up and ask you for quests. We send them on quests and give them some small rewards. Then we have the glory hounds. They’re the ones always seeking attention and proving their worth through brave acts. Those zounderkites are hard to talk to and usually miss the point of anything we tell them. And then there’s ye.” He pointed at Mayah.
“Ye are a thinker a planner. Ye don’t go for all of the flashy stuff. Ye get in there and get the job done. That duel with Travisty…. Ooh boy, did ye give him what fer. Everyone else would have bet on the bigger, stronger opponent. But ye, ye used yer head to beat him. And not just beat him, but take every cent he had. That is the quality that we are looking for here. There is a real war coming and we desperately need yer help.”
As he finished, a man walked through the door. Jensen quickly stood to attention and saluted. The four golden lions on each of his shoulders screamed that he was someone important. His hair was close cropped on the sides and silver on top. His uniform was crisp and showed some muscle underneath, but nothing that would make him seem threatening. He walked with a practiced efficiency that spoke of the many things he must have waiting for him to accomplish.
As his eyes scanned the room, Mayah recognized him as the cloaked figure. She slit her eyes, taking in the deference that Jensen showed the man.
“As you were, Sergeant.” He carried three folders and placed them on the table as he sat.
“Let me introduce myself. I am General Briggston of the Royal Majestan Column, Strategic Offices. My job is to oversee this base and process the paladins through the village as quickly and successfully as possible. Multiple times now, Grand Sergeant Jensen has recommended you three as a specialized team and thinks you should be given an auxiliary space in the Marine Tactics Unit.
“His request will be based on two things. One being your willingness to work with us, and two being my assessment of you. I have seen your duel and would be willing to let you make your case for enrollment.”
“Make our case? You bring us all the way here and want us to beg for your approval? I was under the impression that Majesta needed the help of the paladins in order to fight Ba'alquion. So why don’t we turn this around for a second. Why should we team up with you, General?”
General continued without missing a beat. “We have the newest intel on Ba'alquion’s forces. Where they are strongest, weakest, and points of special interest. You would gain access to weapon stores located around the world and a monthly stipend of 40 gold. All we are asking is that you report to us what you find in your adventures and come when we need your specialized skills. I have heard tell of your skills, and they are quite impressive for newborn paladins. Would you mind if I take a look?”
“How would you do that?”
“If we form a party, then I will be able to see your abilities and skills.”
“What do you think, Grax?” She turned to the cat.
Grax tilted his head in thought. “I’m not sure I like this guy, but he seems on the up and up.”
“Margaret?” Mayah asked the Necromancer.
“He is a bit terse.” She took a moment to think it over. “But what military commander isn’t? He’s just used to people jumping when he speaks.”
Mayah stared at the general and thought for a second. “Okay, General, on one condition. We get to see yours and Jensen’s stats and abilities as well.”
The general looked at Jensen.
“I would trust these three with my life,” Jensen said in a no-nonsense tone.
“Fine, send me a party invite and I’ll accept.”
Mayah sent a party invite to the two men in the room. A notification popped up saying that Jensen had joined and, a moment later, Briggston’s name popped up.
“Now, if you would make your whole character sheet available, we will do the same.”
Mayah went into her privacy settings under the team tab and selected make info public. She nodded at Margaret and Grax. Their eyes went glassy as they unlocked their information. The three of them looked at the general whose information tab popped into existence.
The biggest shock was Jensen’s level. He was level 176.
Holy smokes!!! I knew he was strong, but this is amazing! He’s 97 in strength and 112 in stamina. He
could crush my head like a soda can. Glad he’s on my side.
That last thought gave her some hope. She was doubly shocked by the general’s level. He was level 223 and had a mana pool, that was in her words, ginormous.
There were abilities listed for pages. Each of the men had been decorated for honor in service and awarded medals of bravery. Seeing how strong they were actually scared her a little bit. She could see why he would need to get Briggston’s approval.
“So now that we’ve gotten that unpleasantness out of the way,” his character sheet disappeared as he left the party, “let us discuss what you think should happen next. My very generous offer is on the table and awaiting your decision.”
“Would you mind if we had a moment, General?” Mayah was still staggered by their levels and wanted a moment to sort all of the information she had just received.
“Not an issue. I will leave the papers with Jensen and he can tell you the rest.”
“Thank you General, for your time,” Mayah said. When did being polite not help?
“It was a pleasure meeting you. Best of luck with the tournament. I’ll be watching.”
Jensen was standing up to leave but Mayah stopped him before he could fully get out of his chair.
“You get to stay. I have questions for you.”
“Anything for ye, lassie.” And he slid back into his chair.
“Jensen, what is all of this?”
“This is a well-oiled military machine designed to protect the innocent and destroy the wicked. I know that this is a lot to take in, but when I joined the Column 50 years ago, I was just a traveling merchant and sometimes mercenary. The Column took me in and made me the man ye see before ye. It wasn’t an easy row to hoe. Seen friends die and enemies fall. But there was always somebody needed protecting. And that’s what all of ye are, protectors.”
“What are we supposed to make of all this?” Mayah queried. “You do realize you’re telling me that we’ve landed on a war planet, are being vetted in your training villages, and you operate from the shadows? Sounds a little suspect. I really don’t want people looking over my shoulder.”