"The Harvest has been very successful this season, with more then enough wheat and barley grown to sustain all the villages and allow for some shipments to the cities such as Italica and the Capital. Of course, with this kind of growth we must be sure to get an accurate count for taxation purposes. Most of our subjects are as honest as they are loyal, but there are always a few outliers that…"

Hexen felt himself zone out of the conversation once more as the words faded to background noise. He was trying his best to listen to what the Steward was saying, but there was just so much even in this single report that it was becoming little more then a monotonous buzz in his ears. It had been like this ever since he'd returned home from seeing the Duron Army off to war, a nearly non-stop flow of "important" information that he absolutely had to know about right then and there. It was Hexen's misfortune that both his father and elder brother had left right during the busiest time of the year for Imperial lands, and the more the young noble thought about it the more he was convinced that it had somehow been planned this way on purpose.

Suddenly realizing that the Steward had stopped talking, Hexen sat back up and cleared his throat to cover up his lack of attentiveness.

"Thank you for the report, Sir Kerr." He said. "Make sure the scribe has taken the correct numbers so I can look them over later today and see what needs doing."

"As you wish." The steward bowed his head and departed the room, leaving Hexen to slouch deeply in his chair.

"That was the last one for today, right?"

"Oh no Lord Duron." Myron said from behind him. "You have three more scheduled for the next hour alone. The next is regarding how to properly dispose of horse waste on the trading roads."

"You missed your calling in life, Myron." Hexen turned his head to face his former tutor. "You'd have made a talented jester."

"Happy to have my talents recognized." The big mad favored him with a good-humored smile. "Try not to look so glum, my Lord. This is the very basics of rulership after all."

"I haven't seen Edmund go through all this."

"Then you haven't been paying much attention, your father has been making him help with the harvest season affairs for several years now. Giving more and more responsibility as time goes on."

"I see." Hexen said, the answer giving him pause.

Now that he was thinking about it, Hexen really hadn't paid much attention to the goings on when it came to the details of ruling their territory. He understood the broad ideas of course, had gone out and made sure he was visible to both his subjects and soldiers alike while making sure common life went on as uninterrupted as possible. But the finer points of items such as revenues and trade had never really interested him, after all being the second born son put one in line to inherit nothing at all. His expected role in Duron family tradition was to assist his older brother as a general in war and ally in Imperial politics. The highest position he could reasonably expect to reach was a Senator in the Empire, thus bringing their family even more power and prestige. But in the end, he would always be the brother of a High Lord, not a High Lord himself.

"If it makes you feels any better, Edmund despises this sort of thing just as much as you do." Myron shrugged. "And even your father isn't the fondest of stewardship work. They'd both be out training or fighting in some battle, not to different from you I'd be willing to bet."

"Must run in the family." Hexen said, standing and letting his legs stretch out after sitting down for so long. "I'm going to have Uncle Alfred help me when he finally returns, at least he should have an easier time dealing with this."

"You know that's not what your father would want. This is supposed to be a learning experience for you, passing it on to others won't let you grow as a nobleman."

"But I have other duties I could be attending too as well." He pointed out, stepping out of the study and going for the stairs. "Some orc bands have been spotted not too far away and may decide to make for our territory. Would it not be prudent for me to rally the militia and have them prepared since so much of our army is away?"

The Duron family estate was an old structure, predating the founding of even the Empire. At one time, it had acted as a palace for the Kings that had taken the surrounding territory by conquest and was still a symbol of wealth and power with the many valuable paintings and sculptures within. It had been Hexen's childhood home, the only place he could remember seeing his mother before she had passed on far too early from a terrible illness. He'd never put much thought into how much history was truly held within it's walls, having been something he'd simply taken for granted over the decades, but now it came with a sort of pressure from expectation as he thought of those who had come before and how they had ruled. Vaguely, Hexen wondered if his father or brother ever felt anything similar.

"Even with the current campaign, there are still plenty of soldiers who are available to maintain order." Myron pointed out. "And if some sort of emergency DOES arise, your Uncle will be the one to raise the Militia."

"And what? He and Cousin Royce would get all the glory while I'm stuck here making sure all the tax numbers are correct?"

"I know it seems frustrating." Myron put his one arm on Hexen's shoulder. "But your duty now is here. You'll someday get your chance at glory, but always remember that no amount of Honor will ever make up for true leadership qualities. Any man can pick up a sword and fight, but it takes a true Lord to effectively rule."

"Nice speech. Did you tell that to Edmund too?"

"Yes, and he took it about as well as you are now." He laughed. "You'll be free of all this soon enough. Who knows, maybe this experience will lead you to appreciate your brother more in the future."

"I thought you were supposed to be helping ME, not him." Hexen snorted as he walked up one of the staircases.

"Helping you? Is that what I was supposed to be doing?" Myron's tone became one of confused innocence. "Oh dear, I'm afraid your father didn't tell me that part of my assignment."

Hexen opened his mouth to reply with a retort but paused after catching sight of something out the window. The gate at the front wall was opened, and a rider was galloping furiously towards the manor. He didn't bear the Wolf symbol of House Duron, rather he had the long purple cape that was used by the Empire. More official business coming for him.

"I thought you were joking about more meetings." Hexen said, wanting to groan in frustration.

"I was joking." Myron frowned, stepping up to the window to get a better look. "That looks like an Imperial messenger, not a diplomat."

"Probably some invitation for a banquet or something." Hexen said as he made his way back down the stairs. "Senators always love a good celebration."

He had barely made his way to the bottom when one of the servants called out for him.

"Messenger from the Capital is here to see you my Lord, says it's urgent."

"Let him in." Hexen instructed, already thinking of how to politely decline the invitation without giving offense.

The messenger was shown in, a quickness to his step despite riding what must have been many hours on horse to get here. His facial expression was grim, putting Hexen on his guard.

"Lord Duron, I'm afraid I bring terrible news." He said, dropping to a knee. "About the army that passed through the Gate."

The message was short, sharp, and cut into Hexen's heart like a dagger. All at once, his complaining and wishes were evaporated, and a new cold reality settled upon his shoulders.

~oOo~

Two days after initial incursion

Talisman was bone weary. She had spent the entire day of the battle in her cockpit, always either flying or waiting to rearm and refuel. Even after all the fighting had been declared officially over, she'd had to fly over the city to make sure nothing had been missed or that some other new mysterious gate had appeared. The entire bizarre incident had gotten everybody on edge. Sleep hadn't come easy, even less so after she had volunteered to be part of search and recovery efforts on following day. There were a lot of bodies, especially in Ginza and the Government district. Even now there were a lot of people either missing or otherwise unaccounted for, and the Hospitals were overwhelmed with the number of wounded even after the military bases opened their own facilities for use. She wanted to stop, to go home and be alone for a while, to try to grasp exactly what had happened. But she couldn't do that, not when there were still so many people who needed answers or closure.

So, she had come back out once again into Tokyo, doing the heart wrenching work of searching for the dead who hadn't been found yet. Her only grim satisfaction being that there were far more bodies of the invaders then of civilians, having been slaughtered as they'd attempted to make their last stand at the mysterious Gate. Even now, no one had any idea who they were or why they had attacked. The structure in the middle of Ginza had indeed appeared out of no where and had brought these murderers with them. There had been whispers that it was somehow a portal to another world, an alien place that was home to monsters straight out of the cheesiest fantasy novels. On the face of it, the proposition was ludicrous, even laughable under different circumstances.

But as Talisman stood above the body of a man who had been cleaved nearly in two, she wasn't seeing much humor in the situation. They were about three blocks away from where the gate had first appeared, now having been sealed shut through a barrier setup by JSDF engineers. The man was on his side, arm outstretched towards the door of a nearby building. He had probably been trying to get inside for safety but had been cut down before he'd been able to get there. She should have felt angry at that, but her anger and sorrow had been chipped away by exhaustion. All that remained was a hollow sadness.

"I let the Medical team know." Razor said. "They'll be here to come collect the remains in a bit, meantime they want us to keep looking."

"Right." Talisman tore her gaze from the corpse and forced her legs to keep moving one in front of the other down the road. She hadn't asked for Razor to come with her, not wanting to pressure him into doing what she knew would be morbid work. But he had come along anyway, probably feeling the same need to take action that she did. "Let's take this street all the way to the Diet building, then find another to bring us back around to where we started."

"Sounds good." The Co-pilot said, falling into step beside her. "So, did you hear what's going on with Itami?"

"I don't think so." She answered. "I haven't seen him around the base either now that I'm thinking about it."

"It's because he's been busy smiling for the cameras. Everyone's been praising his actions during the battle and calling him 'The Hero of Ginza'." Razor shook his head. "The Prime Minister is giving him a medal, and a damn promotion. Can you believe that?"

"Well if he hadn't directed those defenses of the Old Palace, a lot more people probably would have died." Talisman pointed out. "He may be a lazy dumbass, but he did come through when the time came."

"I guess." The other shrugged. "I thought he was going to stay a Second Lieutenant forever. Hero or not, I can't see him coming with us. He'd just whine and complain about having no internet."

"Coming with us where?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Where else? Through the Gate." Razor sounded puzzled. "You haven't heard?"

"I've been a bit preoccupied, haven't watched any of the news."

"I haven't been able to stop." He shook his head. "The Diet is apparently talking about sending us through, figure out exactly what happened and why."

"Through the gate…" Talisman whispered. "What do you think is on the other side?"

"I don't know, Mordor?" The suggestion was probably a joke, but Razor's tone was showing his own weariness. "Some kind of place that has orcs, trolls, and wyverns."

"I'm sure a lot of people will be thrilled." Her eyes scanned the street around her, not stopping until loud clanging reverberated from a nearby alleyway. She looked over at Razor, suddenly alert. "Civilians?"

"There shouldn't be any around here…"

A bad feeling snaked its way down Talisman's spine. They had supposedly cleared out all of the last gaggles of enemy troops, but if any had managed to evade them… She pulled the VP9 pistol from her holster, bringing it up to a ready stance as she carefully approached the source of the noise.

"Defense Force!" She called out. "Identify yourself! Or we will shoot!"

No response. Making sure that Razor was backing her up, she stepped into the alley and went forward with a purpose. She nearly was sent toppling to the ground when the perpetrator of the noise came bolting out from behind a nearby dumpster. Not an armored knight, but a stray dog. It had no idea how close Talisman came to shooting it as the mutt zoomed past her legs and out of sight.

"Damn thing scared the hell out of me!" Razor exclaimed as he looked on after it.

"I think we're both just on edge." Talisman sighed, holstering her gun. The brief moment of tense excitement was once again replaced by a heaviness to her eyelids. "Let's finish up out route and see about getting out of here. I've had enough of Ginza for a while."

~oOo~

To most experienced hunters, there was no such thing as a "stupid" species of animal. Some had better senses then others like a honed sense of smell or vision at night, while others had special defenses ranging from sharp teeth to even kinds of poison. This was all to protect themselves from whatever it was that sat above them on the food chain, and a species didn't go on in those kinds of conditions without some kind of survival instincts. Ignoring that reality was foolish, and many humans and elves had fell victim to their own arrogance whenever dealing with nature, and had paid the price.

It was a lesson that had been drilled into Kat'lana at a young age when she had been foolish enough to challenge a large boar head on, believing the creature to be no match for her intelligence and advanced tools of bow and knife. She'd been lucky to walk away from the encounter with only a gash across her stomach. Now that she was older and at least a little bit wiser, the act of hunting wasn't nearly as dangerous, at least not when looking for the usual kind of prey. Like the wild boar who walked below the forest's trees underneath her perch.

"Come on…A little bit more…" Kat whispered to herself, watching as the animal made its way ever closer towards her trap. It stopped to sniff the air, no doubt on guard against any possible predators that could be stalking around. That too had been a lesson she had learned through the years, how to mask one's scent from those who were much better at detecting such subtleties then her.

Satisfied that nothing was around, the boar continued on its path. It looked like the animal was going to just walk straight into it like she'd planned, but the chaos of nature rarely went along with such hopes. Just when it was about to set one foot into the hidden net, the call of a nearby bird made the hog stop in place to look in that direction. It had all happened so fast that Kat didn't have the chance to stop herself from setting off the trap. The empty net sprang into the air, brushing against the boar and sending it into a panicked flight away from the danger. Kat swore bitterly under her breath, jumping from tree to tree in pursuit. The creature was fast, but the Half-Elf had chased down much quicker in her lifetime. She put a little bit of magic into her step as she made one final jump directly above the fleeing animal. Taking careful aim with her bow, Kat loosed an arrow, catching the boar on the back of its neck. It continued for a few more feet from the momentum of its running, then came to a crashing halt as the notice of death finally reached its muscles.

Mentally kicking herself for having made such an amateur mistake, Kat dropped down from a branch next to its body, removing the arrow with a slightly disappointed look on her face. She'd been hoping to kill it more cleanly with a knife once it was in the trap rather then using an arrow, but this would still do. The camp would eat good tonight at least. Settling its carcass on her shoulders, she set off from her chosen hunting ground, shifting a bit every now and then to balance out the weight. She wasn't weak by any standard, but this had been a big catch.

After nearly a half hour of hauling the dead hog, Kat heard a light call of a forest fowl coming from one of the trees. She returned the signal and watched two others clad in green descend to the ground. Both were male, one elven and one human, armed with bows of their own that were well used. The elf gave her a nod of greeting while the human gave a low whistle.

"Wow, that's the biggest boar I've seen in a while. Did you haul it here all by yourself?" He asked.

"Still haven't quite mastered the art of teleportation." She answered ruefully, dropping the hog for the others to pick up to give her aching shoulders a break. "Didn't want to risk ruining it by dragging the carcass all the way."

"You did well, Kat'lana." The elf said, picking up one side while the human did the other. "The other hunters did not bring back nearly so much; this will lift spirits."

"Anything to make sure we're all fed." Kat followed behind them, making sure she didn't drop anything on her way over as they entered the camp.

There was no name for who they were, too small to even be called a "tribe" as they constantly fragmented off and rejoined at any given whimsy. They were not bound by any species or culture, simply by a love of the forest and the life it had to offer. The Humans of the Empire called them "Forest Rangers", a title that seemed fitting enough to suit their purposes for the few times they ever traveled out into the wider world. The current camp that Kat and the others called home housed less then a dozen people, their tents simple affairs of wood and cloth that did little more than provide shelter for sleeping. It was a simple life, but that was of course one of the charms that attracted so many.

"The huntress returns victorious." One of the men around the campfire in the center of the camp stood up to greet her.

"Did you ever doubt me, Benril?" Kat smiled at him, the pair exchanging a quick hug.

"I would never." The Camp Master chuckled. Like her, Benril was a half elf, though far older and more experienced. "Come, help me skin this. The others are getting hungry."

"Happy too." Kat said, dropping her things off by her tent before sitting down next to him with a freshly sharpened knife. "Falben said the other hunters weren't having much luck today."

"Sadly not, the most that was brought back were a couple rabbits and game fowl. Not nearly enough for the whole camp."

"I didn't see much while I was out there either. The game around here is starting to avoid our usual hunting spots, it's probably past time that we moved the camp."

"I agree." Benril nodded, his practiced hands carefully guiding the blade around the good meat. "But I was hoping to have one last good haul before we pick up and leave."

There was something in his voice that made Kat pause and study his face, detecting a note of slight apprehension.

"That would be nice, but it's not as if we're on the brink of starvation or anything. What's got you worried?"

The Camp Master hesitated.

"A few days ago, when you were away trading with one of the villages, a hunter from one of the other camps came by to replenish his supplies. He told us a story that they'd heard from one of the passing caravans they had sold some furs too, a very interesting story."

"That being?"

"The Empire recently launched a military campaign against a far away land, sending a mighty army to conquer and pillage as they always have. But in a single battle, the Imperial Army was annihilated by an unknown kingdom, leaving only a few stragglers to tell of the terrible things they witnessed during the fighting."

"A shame for the Empire, but I don't see what that has to do with us." Kat said.

"Among the fallen during the battle was the High Lord Duron, his heir, and all the forces they brought with them." Benril spoke in a near whisper, as if worried his voice would carry in the forest.

"Lord Duron is dead?" Her breath caught. The Forest Rangers and Duron nobility had been enemies since before Kat was born. The forest they called hope was claimed by the Duron's as part of their land, and demanded the Rangers submit to their laws. There was always much skirmishing in the forest because of this, Duron soldiers unable to crush the Rangers, but the Rangers having too little numbers to completely drive the soldiers from the forest. Kat herself had been in many such clashes, learning to become a hunter of men as much as a hunter of animals to protect her friends. "How many soldiers did he have with him?!"

"Not all, but many." Benril said. "Very many."

"Then they're weak right now, and probably will leave us alone for at least a couple of years until they recover, IF they ever recover."

"That is my thinking as well." The Camp Master nodded. "But it's not a certainty."

"Let me guess, you want to move the camp closer to the forest edge since we'll have more opportunities to do business with the villages that way." Kat prompted. "But that would also be more dangerous since the Duron's would be able to reach us easier."

"Essentially. As you say, the remaining Duron family will have far bigger things to worry about then us, and it is likely old paranoia alone that keeps me wary."

"If you're looking for my opinion, then I say we do it." She said. "We could use the extra money in case we get into a tough spot somewhere in the future, and the game there should still be flourishing since we've avoided it for years. By the time the Duron's come back to their strength, we'll have gotten everything we wanted and will be long gone."

"That's about the answer I expected from you." Benril smiled again, some of the uncertainty fading away. "I'll think about what you have said."

"Good, because I really don't think a 'no food' lifestyle is going to be very popular with the camp."

Kat laughed a bit at her own joke and started to cook the fresh meat over the fire.

~oOo~

One week after initial incursion

Erika Valhen did her best not to shift nervously in her chair as she waited outside of the Battalion Commander's Office. She had spoken to him many times of course, almost on a weekly basis during officer meetings he liked to hold on Mondays. But she'd only ever been asked to speak with him alone in his office one time, when she had been on her very first field exercise and had very nearly totaled a privately owned vehicle when she'd failed to give proper directions to her crew. The very memory made her cringe in embarrassment, fidgeting with her Bundeswehr uniform a bit more to make absolutely certain she was presentable. To Erika's knowledge, she hadn't done anything bad enough to warrant a dressing down by the Battalion Commander, unless of course it was something her subordinates had done instead of her. But if that was the case, shouldn't she have at least heard about it by now.

She tried to relax, taking her mind off the moment and her nervousness by listening to what she assumed was a television in one of the adjoining rooms.

"…It was just one week ago The Japanese Self Defense Force, with supporting elements from the United States Air Force and Marine Corps, successfully repelled the assault upon Tokyo by unknown invaders through what appears to be a perplexing sort of Gate and restored law and order. The Japanese Government has issued the statement that the JSDF will be deploying a response force through the Conduit to investigate what may lie beyond, with American President Ryan pledging full military and humanitarian support in whatever they endeavor. For his part, Chancellor Maier praised American and Japanese soldiers for their rescue of German civilians during the battle and promised to aid 'our old friends in whatever they endeavor'."

That seemed to be the only thing anyone talked about anymore, the battle in Tokyo. Rumors about what the "truth" was abounded, especially in places like the internet that laid the blame on shadowy CIA experiments and Illuminati, while even wilder explanations claimed that it was a giant false flag attack to cover up the kidnapping of civilians in broad daylight. On the military side of things, no one seemed to have any good explanations as to how a massive, yet technologically laughable force was able to just appear in the middle of a massive city. NATO had been put on high alert, worried that this sort of thing might somehow happen again. But since the panic had faded away and no other incidents had occurred, the uniform services were left scratching their heads and wondering what to do about this potentially reality shaping development.

"Valhen!" A voice yelled from inside the office, making Erika startle a bit in surprise. "Get in here!"

She sprang to her feet, marching smartly into the smaller room that was plain save for a Desk, two chairs, and a mostly empty bookshelf that sat behind the man himself. Oberst Rikert Stark. He was a man who looked almost a decade younger than his fifty years would have suggested, his full head of hair still it's natural dark grey, his eyes still sharp. Erika gave the most professional looking salute she could manage.

"Oberleutnant Vahlen reporting as ordered." She said.

Stark returned the salute, but didn't offer for her to sit, leaving Erika to stand there waiting for him to start yelling at her for whatever she might have done wrong. Instead, he surprised her.

"Oberleutnant, you're fluent in English are you not?" He asked. She didn't answer right away, hesitating as her mind tried to process what she had been expecting to hear with what had actually been said.

"Y-yes sir, I am." Erika said. "My father taught me at a young age, he thought- "

"Would you have any issues working alongside Americans?" Stark interrupted her. "Any personal grievances or otherwise?"

"Americans?" She repeated, feeling more and more confused by the moment. "No sir, I wouldn't."

Stark studied her for a moment, and Erika felt a trickle of sweat run down her back from the weight of that gaze. Finally, her Commanding over leaned forward and spoke once again.

"I assume you have been watching the news, yes? About what has been going on in Japan?"

"It's a bit hard to miss, sir." Erika replied, giving a nervous smile. Stark didn't return the expression.

"I'll cut to the chase Oberleutnant." He said. "We have been asked to provide a support unit to be part of the expeditionary force to explore what is beyond the Gate in Tokyo."

"Ah, I see." She did her best to keep her voice calm and collected, but her heart was now thudding hard in her chest. Germany was sending military aid to the expedition, and she was being asked about how well she would work with Americans? It didn't take a genius to see where this was going. "What kind of support unit, sir?"

"A single platoon to be attached to an American Battalion. A pair of Leopard 2 tanks and all support personnel required to keep them functioning." He seemed to be looking right through her. "I want you to Command them."

"Why…me?" The question fell out before she'd had a chance to stop it.

"Several reasons. First, as you said you already fluent in English and are quite comfortable speaking it. Second, you are an officer who is very familiar with your tank, I'm quite confident if I asked you to take it apart and put it back together again, you'd be able to do it. Third, you're a talented platoon commander that has shown a knack for thinking outside the box whenever you find a difficult problem." The Oberst steepled his fingers together. "I'll be blunt, the Bundeswehr has not sent tanks into combat since I was a company commander in Kosovo. Our tanks are shiny and new, without ever having faced a real enemy, and the officers we have trained to oversee them are not much better. You are like the rest of your peers, eager but utterly inexperienced. Make no mistake, this assignment isn't given because we think you're a military genius, it's because I think you're simply the one least likely to cause a national embarrassment. Understand?"

"Yes sir." Erika nodded. His words were harshly realistic, but it was the closest thing she had ever gotten to a compliment from the man. Besides, no matter how he was framing it, the reality was the same. She was going to be taking tanks into battle, REAL battle, with HER in command. It was what she had wanted more then anything after being passed over for any chance of going to Afghanistan. Now her chance had finally arrived.

"Good." Stark nodded. "Start reviewing who you want to go with you, crewman and maintenance personnel alike. Make sure they speak English."

"Yes sir."

"One final thing."

"Sir?"

"Whatever it is beyond that gate, I want you to put the kind of fear in them that can only be caused by facing proper German Panzers."