The feeling of feet hitting the ground matched in time with the beat of Joker's music as he carried on with his run on a visible path around the FOB that was mostly made up of the areas he was least likely to get run over at or shot for trespassing, the sounds of his own labored breathing and the pounding in his chest adding to the personal orchestra. He'd planned his time for exercise around what he had estimated would be both a cooler temperature and a lesser amount of bustling around for the base's daily activities, knowing from experience how annoying it could be to have some dumbass jogger get in your way when you were just trying to do your job. His guesses had been mostly right, having to navigate around foot and vehicle traffic only a few times and the slight warmth in the air sitting lightly on his skin rather than oppressively in his lungs.
Joker didn't hate running like so many of his fellows did, nor was it a passion hobby like a few screwballs he knew treated it. The exercise was more of something he just had to do, more than the usual jarhead had to anyway. Breath control and heart rate played important roles when you were a sharpshooter, the longer you could keep your lungs empty the longer you had to line up a steady shot on a potentially moving target. If your breathing was too shaky or your heart prone to excitability, it was all too easy to miss your mark even by the barest of centimeters, and a sniper who couldn't hit their target was no good to anyone.
Today he had opted for a longer route that took him through parts of the JSDF camp that Americans were allowed access to without hassle, having gotten pretty sick of running around the same small zone that the Marines had been allotted over and over again. Not that there was much to see around this part of the base either, with much the same kind of operations going on in just a larger zone with different flags and uniforms. Several soldiers gave him side glances or other curious looks as he passed by, but none stopped him or tried to converse with him. They were like any military deployed to a strange and foreign land, preferring to keep to themselves and just get on with their day instead of worrying about the weirdo with headphones in his ears that was running past them.
The stitch beginning to form in his side signaled for Joker to start wrapping it up soon, having decided to just run as long as he felt like it instead of aiming for a specific distance this time around. He set his direction on a long stretch of emptiness without any tents or people standing in his way, picking up his pace to a final long sprint as the music playing in his ears set into its chorus.
That's when she said
"I don't hate you, boy, I just want to save you
While there's still something left to save"
That's when I told her
"I love you, girl, but I'm not the answer
For the questions that you still have"
Joker pushed himself to keep going faster, doing his best to ignore the pain in his side and lungs until he estimated crossing the threshold of about ninety meters. He pumped on the imaginary breaks as his legs slowed their pace to that of a light jog, then a walk, then stopped. Bending his body forward and putting his hands on his knees, Joker drew in long and slow breaths, feeling the ache fade away as oxygen once again flowed freely through his body. He used the momentary pause to look around and get a bearing on exactly where he was. He could see a small setup off to the side of the tents where some troops were rinsing mud off of vehicles and giving them light scrubbing with some long brushes that dripped with a soapy substance. He had a general idea of where the wash rack was in relation to the larger base and figured he could navigate his way back to the American Camp without too much issue. Technically speaking, Joker knew he shouldn't have gone down a path where he wasn't absolutely familiar with, but he wasn't supposed to be needed for at least a couple hours, having gotten an early start to make sure he had some time to explore. If there was an emergency, well, the Japanese could probably give him a weapon and tell him to shoot things without too much trouble.
Letting his playlist continue its shuffle, he started in the general direction he figured would take him back the way he came. The sounds of helicopters buzzing overhead had recently joined the noise pollution at Alnus Hill FOB, their small numbers not currently being used for much besides assisting in hauling heavy supplies and equipment around. They were all JSDF by this point, with no word as to when or even if any Marine Corps Aviation units would be joining them in the Special Region. Frankly the Americans hadn't been asked to do much of anything since the counter attack had been repelled beyond pulling guard duties and the occasional small patrol beyond the hill, leaving them to just stand by and watch the JSDF send out recon teams, lended aid to local refugees, and had apparently battled a fucking flame dragon. Opinions on all that tended to be sharply divided among the Marines, with the more battle-weary troops more than happy to let the Japanese handle the hard work on this one. Others were eager to explore this strange new world for themselves, and weren't quiet in their questions to what the hell the point of being here was if they were not going to do anything?
Colonel Jackson had been doing his best in dealing with these grumblings, answering what questions he could while cracking down what went beyond simple complaining. But it seemed like he didn't have much answers to give on his end, and it was hard not to feel like the Japanese were playing this entire thing by ear and the Americans were being left to just do the best they could with it all. But Joker was just a simple grunt who left those kinds of concerns to those with shiny things pinned to their collars to worry about. So long as they just pointed to where he needed to shoot and that paycheck dropped into his account twice a month, he was more or less content with it all, even if he too really wanted to explore more of this place.
He had made it most of the way through his journey back to camp when he noticed someone trying to flag him down from the corner of his eye. Feeling a twinge of annoyance at having to take out his earphones and have to explain to whoever it was that he didn't speak Japanese, and realized it was one of the few members of the JSDF he actually knew.
"Shino." Joker greeted his fellow Sergeant, the irritation fading away. "I was worried I'd actually have try and put some of those language classes to use."
"Lucky for you, I've heard your Japanese." Kuribayashi said as she moved to walk alongside him. She wasn't wearing combat kit like their first couple encounters, instead her outfit was the new green fatigues and hat that was being issued to the JSDF. "You'd have a better chance of insulting someone's mother than talking your way out of something."
"It's a well-known fact that the first thing you should learn in any new language is the curses." Joker answered. "Haven't seen you around here in a few days, been busy?"
"You can say that. I was reassigned to the Third Recon with Lieutenant Itami." She said, making a face with the last few words.
"Third Recon? Holy shit, you're the ones who fought the dragon, right?"
"I'm gonna be answering that question forever...yep, that was us who played tag with the giant fire breathing lizard. Before you ask, yes it was excessively big and yes it looked like something out of a kaiju movie."
"I was going to say The Hobbit, but still, damn." Joker whispered softly under his breath. "How tough were its scales? I know we have to basically use fifty cals on the little ones."
"Much tougher than that. It shrugged off all our small arms and our Fifty like they were just a joke. We had to shoot at its eyes to blind it and then hit it with an RPG just to drive it off." Kuribayashi shrugged. "Honestly, we were probably lucky to have gotten out unscathed. A lot of the civilians we had with us weren't so lucky."
"Right...we got a briefing about that." He said. They had all been warned about the new arrivals pretty much as soon as they had gotten into the base. The Marines had all been given strict orders to not interact with any of the locals or go over to their allotted area unless on official business. The entire situation was fairly unusual from the American standpoint, at least Joker had never seen locals living on an FOB outside of absolute emergencies, and even then it was only for very short periods of time. It was just too great a risk to Operational Security and Personnel safety to do otherwise. "How have the refugees been settling in?"
"I think they're all still adjusting. None of them have ever seen modern technology before so it's sort of a mix between wonder and a tad bit of fear since they don't really understand it all, especially the kids." She snickered. "You should see it; they think our rations are some kind of gourmet meals."
"Let them taste some MRE's, I'm sure that'll change their opinions pretty quickly."
"Kind of sucks though, we've been saddled with pretty much all the work for them. Meals, putting up tents, getting them new clothes, you name it and we have to do it."
"You can thank your commanding officer for that one." Joker commented. "Captain Mitchell was just about spitting fire all day after you brought them in, can't imagine anyone else in the higher ups were much happier."
"Yeah I noticed, he pretty much got into a shouting match with the Lieutenant when we arrived at the base." She frowned. "You'd think we'd have broken a cardinal rule or something with the way some reacted."
Joker hesitated, having to hold back his instinctive response. Debating military policies wasn't something he enjoyed doing even under the best of circumstances, and talking about US vs Host Nation regulations when you were technically operating on Host Nation soil didn't exactly add to the fun factor.
"It's just a security issue." He decided to say instead. "On American bases, civilians need special passes to be allowed in. The Captain wasn't thrilled to have to help fill out all the paperwork for them since it's a joint operating location."
"I guess that makes sense." Kuribayashi conceded. "Still wish he would have taken it out only on Itami, but I've done worse details. There's even been talk about setting up a special bath house for the locals like we have."
"Like you have." Joker corrected. "We still haven't been allowed into those yet. Pretty sure the brass thinks it will raise morale too high or something."
"Damn, that's almost cruel considering you only just got to try them out before we came here."
"Are you kidding? I didn't get to try one out even then."
"Then that sounds like your own fault. You were in Japan for, what, three months? You had the time."
"I don't know if you noticed, but we were a little busy during that time preparing for all this." Joker said, making a hand motion encompassing the entire camp. "The Corps wasn't exactly generous about handing out leave time while we were there."
"Guess that means it'll be up to me to show you the best onsens when we get a chance to go back. I know this great place up in the mountains that you have to try out and cry afterwards that you don't have any back in the States."
"You are really underestimating our ability to steal the best parts or other cultures and put it in our country." Joker answered, his mind torn between the desire to ask if this mountain retreat included mixed baths and wanting to testicles in their current non-bruised state.
He was saved from his own stupidity by the realization that they had reached the edge of the Marine encampment, as evidenced by the playing of loud music in english and the tossing around of a football that seemed to always somehow appear wherever groups of American Military personnel traveled. It was almost like an invisible line in the ground that split the two armies from one another, with the only physical sign being a single square concrete barrier had both the American Flag and the unit insignia of what looked like an angry seahorse in front of the number two sitting on a red and dark yellow background. The writing beneath read:
2nd Battalion, 4th Marine Division
The Magnificent Bastards
"Second to None"
If there was one thing that deployed Americans liked to do, it was draw on concrete barricades. They were used as both zone location markers and morale boosters as they often were used to scrawl the individual names of platoons or even smaller units along with their mascots in the backrgound or whatever tickled the artists fancy at the time, so long as it was in what the brass considered "good taste" of course. The longer they were here, the more would pop up over time.
"Yo Joker!"
He was taken out of his idle thoughts by an approaching Private First Class with dark skin and a pair of thick glasses, wearing his full combat gear complete with M4.
"What's up, Hamilton?"
"I've been looking everywhere for you, Sarge." The other man said. "Colonel Jackson sent word that he wants to see you and Reaper at his office."
"Did he say why?"
"Man, do you think I'm told shit around this place?"
"Fair point." Joker agreed, turning to face Kuribayashi. "Seems like duty calls."
"That's alright, I should probably go make sure there's no crisis going on with the Coda Village people." She gave a nod, then turned to leave. "See you around."
"Later." Joker waved, continuing on towards the Marine camp as Hamilton raised his brow with an amused expression.
"Getting friendly with our allies, are we?"
"Stick with me, Private. I can take you under my wing and show you the true way to get to any woman's heart. Satisfaction guaranteed."
"Uh huh, that's not what Reaper says."
"Reaper is a lying scoundrel, and more importantly, I outrank him. Respect your superiors."
Knowing that keeping the big boss waiting was generally a bad idea no matter what the situation, Joker got in a quick shower and shave before throwing on the cleanest uniform he still had and heading for the Headquarters Building with his Spotter in tow. That wasn't hard to find even though he had never been there before, as it was the largest and really only one of the very few real buildings that had been erected on the hill thus far.
Although it had been built by the JSDF, the Division Headquarters would have really fit in at almost any Western Military base in the world, with armed guards checking ID's at the front, holding rooms to place any unauthorized electronics such as radios or phones, secured wings for Intelligence and other Strategic planning staff to work away from prying eyes, and a large number of office cubicles where both officers and enlisted alike worked away on countless forms that formed the backbone of the modern military bureaucracy. It was a bit comforting to see that the Americans were largely working side by side with their Japanese counterparts, rather than being pushed off to side rooms like Joker had seen done to a lot of Coalition Partners on US dominated locations due to their far smaller numbers.
That courtesy extended to Colonel Jackson, who had his own office placed in a respectable position within the Headquarters second only to Lieutenant General Hazima, the Commander of all Allied Forces within the special region. The door to the office was open, but any jarhead who had bothered to remember anything from basic training knew that you didn't just walk straight in, even if you had been summoned.
Glancing to make sure that Reaper was ready to go, Joker gave a firm knock on the wall beside the door, loud enough to be heard inside.
"Come in." Colonel Jackson responded.
The two Marines marched smartly inside, showing off far more discipline then one would have expected had they only known the pair in a casual environment. The office itself was largely barren, with only a single desk near its center and a bookshelf off to the corner that was empty save for a few black binders. The desk too was bare save for a landline telephone that connected to other numbers that had been wired throughout the base and a small laptop that sat where normally large double monitors would be on such a High Ranking Officer's workroom. Sitting behind it was the battle-hardened leader of the Marines, Colonel Jackson, with the flags of the United States and USMC at his back. They both saluted.
"Sir, Sergeant Salter reports as ordered."
"Sir, Corporal Martinez reports as ordered."
"At ease." The Colonel made a motion with his hand. "Shut the door behind you."
Reaper did as instructed as Joker relaxed, though only slightly. Jackson's steely gaze was still on the sniper, making him feel more than a little uncomfortable. Though he had never been in this specific office before, he had once been summoned to speak with Jackson following an engagement in Afghanistan, not one of his fondest memories. After a moment's silence, their Commanding Officer spoke again.
"How familiar are you both with the recent recon missions carried out by the Japanese?"
"Only what we've been allowed to know sir." Joker answered for the both of them. "They made contact with several settlements in the area outside the defensive perimeter, mostly friendly though there was some trouble with the...wildlife."
"They brought back those refugees too." Reaper added. "Briefing said it was about a dozen of them."
"That's the basics of it, now let me fill you in on a bit more." Jackson flicked his gaze between the two Marines, as if gauging their reactions to what he was about to say. "The primary objective of the JSDF was intelligence gathering, seeing what the local population is like, their politics, economy, the whole nine yards. The goal was to get a better understanding of just what is out there and see if we couldn't find the national body that has been acting as our opposing force. We weren't able to meet that second prong, as there was no contact made with any political body beyond that of a village chief. Fortunately, some of those refugees rescued by the Third Recon were able to fill in some of those gaps once we were able to sort through the language barrier."
The pair simply nodded, wanting to listen to the end before asking any questions.
"Most of the land surrounding Alnus Hill has become far more unstable in the past few months thanks to the war. The three huge armies that came this way devoured nearly all the food stockpiled by nearby towns as even caused some property damage thanks to disagreements between locals and the soldiers. This only got worse after we crushed each consecutive army, with many survivors deciding to shirk their former loyalties and flee into the countryside. These deserters have been making life even more hellish for the citizens, and since we pretty much killed all the lords that ruled here and their armies, there's no one left to really maintain order."
"But there is some kind of nation that supposedly rules it all, right?" Joker asked.
"From what the locals tell us, yes." Jackson nodded. "An Empire of some sort, but they seem to have withdrawn from the area for now."
Given the royal ass whooping the Japanese and her allies had delivered to them three times over, Joker didn't find that as much of a surprise. Still he didn't quite understand why the Colonel was telling only the pair of them this instead as a larger briefing.
"So where do we come in?" Reaper asked, asking Joker's question for him.
"The main objectives largely still stand as things are, we still need intelligence before we move forward with large scale operations." The Colonel opened a drawer on his desk, withdrawing a rolled-up paper and splaying it across the desk where both Joker and Reaper could see. It was a map, a crude one that had been drawn up to outlay the known areas in the Special Region. They had seen most of it before, but this map went out far wider than the ones they'd been issued and had several areas circled in red ink and annotated. The further away the lines on the map got from the position of Alnus Hill, the less detailed it got, with many question marks in the place of landmarks. "The JSDF has decided to focus their efforts in the surrounding area, including goodwill and humanitarian missions to see what else we can learn while we built a trustworthy relationship."
Though none of them said it out loud, the quiet thought of "Hopefully they'll have better luck at that then we did" was plain to see on each of them. Jackson pointed to a large circle that had been drawn around the hill, giving a location for the previously mentioned operation. Joker eyeballed it at about a two-hundred-kilometer-wide perimeter, though he had no gauge to tell if he was right or not.
"Are we going to be backing them up?"
"Archer Company will be providing QRF to the Recon Teams, but you both will be on a special assignment." Jackson tapped his finger on an area that looked like a large forest near the western edge of the map. "We still need to launch an investigation into this larger Empire and learn how it operates. According to the refugees, this region here has largely been spared from the scars of the fighting here, with law and order still reasonably intact. You'll note, however, we know extraordinarily little about it."
That was putting it mildly. Save for the forest, there were only a couple of more icons that dotted the area, including a stream and what looked like a crop of hills, though all held question marks.
"The pair of you will be dropped here, in a place the refugees have called the Lonham Forest. Your mission will be to carry out a quiet scouting mission across this region; taking note of villages, geography, and anything about the local populations that you can observe from a distance."
"Just the two of us, sir?" Joker asked.
"That's right. The JSDF Recon Teams are carrying out contact missions that involve meeting with as many of the locals as they can. You won't be doing any such thing; in fact, you need to avoid coming into contact with the locals as much as reasonable. If this Empire is still in power in the region, we do not want to spook them into an action that would just pile up a lot more bodies at the foot of the hill. Speed and stealth will be the key, and the two of you will be able to accomplish this more effectively on your own. Besides, given your experience and expertise in this sort of thing, I wouldn't think you'd want anyone else along to slow you down."
"Well, you're not wrong, sir." Joker smiled, not objecting to his ego getting stroked a little. "So all we have to do is stay quiet, keep our heads down, and give you a decent scouting report of this place for once?"
"Basically."
"We can do that. What's our time frame look like?"
"Plan for it to be for seven days, though it will depend on how fast you work." Jackson leaned back in his chair. "We'll outfit you with ten days of ammo, water, and rations just in case. So long as you don't go burning through it like maniacs, it should last you the whole time."
"Any special equipment?"
"You'll get your choice from the armory. I trust you both know best what you'd want to bring along."
"Ghillie suits?"
"We just got a delivery of those yesterday."
"That probably means new burlap." Reaper frowned. "We'll have to run those through some mud before we leave...what's our step off time?"
"Zero Two Thirty tomorrow morning, should give you the cover of darkness when you land."
"Perfect." Joker nodded approvingly. "We should probably-"
He was interrupted by a knocking at the door, and all three men looked in its direction.
"Who is it?" Jackson called.
"Captain Mitchell, sir." The voice responded.
"Come in, shut the door behind you."
The Company Officer did as instructed, moving to stand beside the Scout Sniper team after he did so.
"I'm in the middle of briefing these two, Captain. This better be important."
"I think it is, sir." Mitchell said, glancing at the other two. "Actually, it sort of involves them. Lieutenant Itami says one of the refugees may have more information about the Lonham Forest. It could be useful on their mission."
"Did he say anything beyond that?"
"No sir, I thought I'd best ask you before asking him to take any action one way or the other."
Jackson seemed to consider that, then nodded.
"Alright, take these two to the refugee camp and see what this information is. Then get back to the armory and get kitted up. We're about to explore this brave new world, gentlemen. And I'd like to be punctual about it."
~oOo~
Reading the message again wasn't going to change the words scribed on it, Hexen knew. But he was desperate enough by this point to see if he had just missed something in his first dozen times of looking it over. It was a vain hope, nothing else jumped out at them. It was a simple and somewhat terse apology letter written by some scribe in the Capital whose name Hexen didn't recognize. It apologized on behalf of Princess Pinia for not being able to receive his numerous letters asking for assistance, and went on to explain that both she and the Order of the Rose had left the Capital on special assignment from the Emperor himself. Any issues that arose within Duron lands would sadly need to be handled without the help of the Royal Family.
Translation: We've all got our problems these days, stop whining for help and do something about it.
It made him angry enough to want to tear the parchment to shreds, but that wouldn't be the right image to make in front of his servants at the Family Estate. They were already on edge, more than a little nervous about all the news that had been flooding in, and the last thing they needed to see was their Lord losing his calm demeanor over a simple letter. It was yet another small thing that made this farce of leadership feel more like a choking vice around Hexen's neck then a privilege.
"I take it the Order of the Rose won't be coming to our aid, then?" Myron asked from his seat to Hexen's right.
They were sitting in what was a sort of dual-purpose room in the manor, in times of peace a gathering room for friends and loved ones. In times of conflict, it was reverted to one of war, with a large table at its center. In the times of old, it was the place that the Great Duron Kings had planned their conquests and later their defense against the Imperial Invasion from the East. Even just a few years ago, it had been a place for his father and his Generals to plan out their own Campaigns. Now it was only the two of them sitting here, a timid ruler and a broken knight. How far the days of glory had faded, with the eyes of the Great Lords and Kings of old staring down at Hexen's failures.
"They have been sent away by the Emperor." He said out loud, doing his best to push the doubts aside while he held out the letter for a maid to take to his study. "Probably south towards Alnus Hill to see how bad things have gotten in the countryside."
"It does seem that misfortune is befalling many of us now." Myron agreed. "But all is not lost, not yet at any rate."
"I wish I shared in your optimism. Even with the Militia rallied, the odds will not be in our favor."
"We must simply rely on your cousin to bring the reinforcements to swing things in our favor."
"Assuming Edwin is even opening my letters at this point." Hexen said dryly. "There's no guarantee that he has any real numbers of troops left at his command. We have not been able to see the damage our losses took on the north, this hope of yours may be too much."
"Are you content then to simply rollover and die, my lord?"
"Of course not."
"Then allow me to give you council to stop looking at the odds against us for the moment." Myron advised. "For they will not simply up and vanish on their own. Instead you should look for ways to advance our own chances of success."
"I am trying to do that very thing, Myron." Hexen answered, exasperation creeping into his voice. "Believe me, I would look under every rock if I thought more soldiers dwelled beneath them. But with the Empire currently reeling as it is, and all the nearby mercenary companies seemingly hired out by others, I cannot see a way to do that."
"Then perhaps you may have to accept that our fates shall be decided on the field of battle after all."
That thought sent a cold shiver down his spine. His first large scale battle would be the one to decide all of their fates? After all the time he had spent yearning to march to war it now tasted like ashes in his mouth. It wasn't supposed to be like this, it was supposed to be glorious, with him leading the mightiest soldiers the Duron lands could offer in places far away as they explored locations unseen by other Saderans. Then again, that is exactly what his father and brother had done, and they had never returned from such a childish fantasy. This wasn't fair, but the gods had already shown themselves to be cruel in more than one way. Why should this be any different?
"Perhaps we should." Hexen agreed. "That would mean having to select our battlefield carefully. The estate would make an excellent defensive work, but I wouldn't want to trust it to a prolonged siege since we have no idea if help would ever come."
"What if we attempted to divide the enemy force?" Myron asked. "Defeat them in detail so their numbers do not give them an advantage."
"Yes...that could work." Hexen said, feeling a twinge of excitement and hope go through him.
His older brother Edmund had done something very similar in the Campaign against the Warrior Bunnies in the North. The Empire had overwhelming numbers, but their enemies were so skilled that they were taking a heavy toll of life and slowing down the advancement. Edmund had laid out a plan of deception to make the tribe women think that the Imperials would be for them in three different directions, and thus split up their own forces to meet them. This had allowed the Elder Duron brother to bring his main force to bear against two of these split off and isolated groups, crushing them with the weight of numbers and dealing a crippling blow to the warrior bunnies that they couldn't recover from. This had almost certainly been the reason behind so quick a conquest for the Empire, and how Prince Zorzal, the nominal leader of the army, had been able to claim glory instead of embarrassment. If Hexen could pull off something even half as impressive here, they may have stood a chance after all.
He was still mulling it all over in his head when the door to the war room opened, and one of the guards stepped inside.
"Forgive the intrusion, sire." He said, bowing. "But there is an individual here to see you, one claiming to be an emissary."
"From who?" Hexen frowned. Had someone from the Empire decided to answer his call for aid after all? Impossible, they couldn't have arrived so soon if that was the face.
"She….claims to be from the Forest Rangers." The man said with a note of hesitation.
"What?!" Myron was on his feet. "You go tell this harpy that she-"
"Myron!" Hexen was surprised to find himself standing too, as he still tried to process what the guard had said. An emissary from the Forest Rangers? He'd never heard of such a thing, in fact he had largely forgotten about them in all the chaos that had happened since the army had marched through the Gate. His curiosity was more than a little peaked. "You there, please escort our guest up to this room. If she tries anything hostile, kill her. Otherwise, show her courtesy."
"At once." The guard said, bowing out of the room.
"My Lord?" Myron looked at the younger man with an expression of utter bewilderment. "You can't be serious."
"Have you ever heard of anything like this?" Hexen countered. "The Rangers sending diplomatic envoys?"
"Well, no." The other confessed. "I don't think I've ever even seen one of them outside the Lonham Forest."
"Neither have I. A might curious, wouldn't you say?"
"This could be a trap to kill you or could be someone simply using their name to get an audience."
"Using the name of one of our enemies would be a curious tactic indeed." Hexen said dryly. "And assassination isn't their style, and even if it was, why strike here where I can best protect myself instead of at range outside? No, I will listen to what this supposed Emissary has to say before I make any judgements."
Myron was silent at that, clearly unhappy but not wanting to argue the point any further. They waited for a couple moments as the sounds of approaching footsteps came up the stairs, then the door on the opposite end of the room was opened. The guard from before stepped inside, followed by a short woman with pale skin and dirty blonde hair. She wore an outfit of what was likely toughened leather with a green cloak that wrapped around her shoulders and draped down to her waste. The expression on her face was not one who was thrilled to be here.
"Lord Duron, may I present Lady Kat'lana of the Forest Rangers."
"It's a….pleasure, my Lord." The woman said, bowing in an awkward manor.
"I'm not so sure that it is, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless." Despite himself, Hexen found the moment amusing. It was clear this Kat'lana didn't have warm or deferential feelings towards him despite her posture, but it was more of one forcing an attitude rather than one of deception. "I must admit, this is rather unexpected. To my knowledge, one of your kind has never been to the Duron Estate before. We're all quite curious as to what it is you desire."
"I bring a message and a proposal from the Rangers." Kat'lana said, straightening up once more. "An orc warband approaches from the northwest, promising to bring death and destruction to all that stand in its way."
"We know this already, girl." Myron grunted. "If this is all you have come to tell us, in hopes of us coming to your rescue you've wasted your time. We have already been planning for the orcs' arrival for days now."
"Then I assume you are also aware of the orc scouting parties that have been on the move around the Lonham Forest?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop by several degrees at that statement, as Hexen felt his throat suddenly go dry.
"I-impossible." The old knight stammered. "They can't be that close already! Our scouts have said they are at least a week away!"
"Then your scouts are badly off the mark." Kat'lana said pointedly. "We have already engaged in battle with several of their groups. They are a few days away from your villages at most."
Hexen could once again feel the vice tightening around his throat, his vision swimming slightly as he tried to control his racing heart. Just a few days away, that was practically no time at all. How was he supposed to cope with this looming menace with so little time to work out a strategy?
"You said you'd also brought a proposal." Even to his own ears, Hexen's voice sounded hoarse and weak. "What is it?"
"The Rangers are all too aware of the threat that is already on our doorstep, along with the….difficult position that your Lordship currently finds himself in." It wasn't hard to tell that Kat'lana wasn't used to talking in this manner but was pushing on regardless. "The only chance we have to survive this menace is to work together. The Camps propose a temporary truce and an Alliance between us and House Duron, until this Orc Warband has been truly defeated."
"Absolutely not!" Myron was on his feet once again. "If you think that we are going to sit here and-"
"Calm yourself, Sir Myron." Hexen said, never having seen his teacher so worked up in his life.
"This is lunacy your majesty." His advisor insisted. "I fought many battles against her kind and lost many friends to their cursed arrows! They have no desire to see our lands survive and prosper, they want for them to burn!"
"You did battle with us when you trespassed upon the forest and attempted to subdue us." Kat'lana narrowed her eyes. "You blame us for your own foolishness?"
"Do you listen to this, my lord? The Rangers will never be friends of ours. They clearly know about the Orcs and seek to lure us away to a false field of battle so the warband may pillage at will before we can stop them!"
"Are you so self-centered to believe that we would give up our best chance of survival just to spite you?!" The Ranger was on her feet now too, all attempts at being diplomatic having been thrown in the fire. "Or are you just a stupid old man who can't let go of a past where you failed?"
"Insolent whore." Myron snarled. "Your kind have gleefully slaughtered many a knight who saught nothing more than to bring order to the forest, a war that you have never seen to give up. My Lord look upon her ears and see the truth! The Rangers have sent an elf here to bewitch you!"
"I am not here to bewitch anyone!" Kat'lana's face now burned red as she subconsciously touched the slightly pointed ears. Actually, until Myron had pointed it out, Hexen had thought her to be a human just like him. He'd never actually seen an elf in person, and this wasn't what he imagined from the stories. "But if you are so insistent to die without cause I-"
"Silence! Both of you!" Hexen said, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat and putting as much authority in his voice that had been built up living in the company of high nobility. Panic was still threatening to seize him, but Hexen knew that if he didn't step in now and say something their best chance at victory may be gone forever. "Myron, sit down."
"But my-"
"Sit. Down." He hissed between his teeth. His tutor seemed to stare at him for a moment, then reluctantly returned to his seat. Kat'lana seemed to take a few deep breaths, then cleared her throat and sat down as well.
"I...apologize for that outburst." She offered, her expression once again neutral but anger and embarrassment still burned behind her green eyes.
"It's clear that you both have rather strong feelings on this matter." Hexen said, trying to once again establish a more civil tone in the conversation. "This conflict between us has been going on for some time, it's understandable."
No one actually seemed to know exactly when or even how the conflict between House Duron and the Forest Rangers had come to pass. Most outsiders believed that it was a simple clash between rulers and those who did not wish to be ruled. But there were many others who believed there was more to the tale, even if they couldn't agree on what it was. Hexen had been told the story as a child that one of his ancestors, little more than a petty barbarian prince, had marched upon these lands from the deserts far to the west, claiming slaves and blunder as his army went. Among these were two beautiful women, a human and an elf, who the Petty King took as his concubines. Both bore the barbarian children, but the elf seemed to bare many more, as she seemed to be more fertile. But as the years went on, the Petty King's health seemed to slip away further and further, until it was discovered that his elven concubine had actually been a succubus who had been leaching life out of the old warrior. One of his human children acted, slaying the vile demon before she could use her power to carve out an Empire for her own. But the Petty King's demon spawn swore revenge for their mother, and moved to the Lonham Forest to wage their war against their half siblings. The Forest Rangers were the descendants of their followers, carrying on the fight even centuries after their masters had passed on.
Another version of the tale he'd heard be told by Bards was that the Petty King's Elven Concubine was actually in love with his brother, and had a secret affair with him for well over a decade before it was found out. In a rage, the barbarian slew his brother and attempted to slay the elf, but she had escaped to the Lonham Forest. There she had stayed, taking in others who had been wronged by the barbarian horde and training them to never submit to the petty king or his subjects.
Whether there was any truth to these tales was, at best, an open question. Many, including his own father, dismissed them as the yarns of minstrels who simply sought to create wonder and mystery over the long conflict for the Forest. The only facts that anyone seemed to agree on was that the Duron's and the Forest Rangers had been at odds since the time of Hexen's Great Grandfather. Most of the records that had existed before that had been lost in a rebellion that saw the Duron estate nearly burned to the ground, and many towns along with it. It's causes and length almost didn't matter at this point, having gone on for so long that most had their own reasons for it to continue. For the Durons, it was a matter of pride, as they simply couldn't allow someone to live like the Rangers on their lands without at least a challenge, and the Rangers had refused to bow to their demands. Time after time, expeditions of Knights and Men at Arms went into the Lonham Forest, and time after time they were beaten back by the Forest Rangers, who would carry out hit and run attacks while constantly staying on the move. They were far better adapted and equipped for such battles, knowing the terrain perfectly and how to traverse it while armored warriors fumbled about on the ground beneath them. Edmund had likened it to trying to catch and hold water, that no matter how hard you tried to tighten your grip, it would all just slip through your fingers.
Hexen had never done battle with the Rangers himself, and thus had no real emotional attachment to the conflict beyond whatever was passed on by listening to his father curse about them over a dozen times over the years. But for Myron, one who had been in the thick of battle against them and seen the blood spent over the dozens of useless attempts to seize the forest, it wasn't hard to see why he would hold such a deep grudge against such enemies. But right now they didn't have time for such grudges, and Hexen wasn't blind to the fact that even with this proposed alliance in place, victory would be far from a sure thing. With the orcs so close, they would either need to work together, or perish separately.
"Kat'lana, if what you've said is true, then we have no time to waste." He said. "Much less any time to spend bargaining and haggling here. Return to your people and tell them that I agree to both the truce and the Alliance, we may return to hating one another once the grey skins have been driven from these lands."
"Thank you, My Lord." Kat'lana said, relief as visible on her face as in her voice. "You won't regret this."
"Myron, send out messengers to every town and bannor within our lands." Hexen instructed. "Tell them to raise their militia with all haste and begin to rally them near Grimsby, I will join them there soon. Also let them know that the Forest Rangers are our allies, and must be treated as such when they arrive."
"...Yes, My Lord." Myron responded, bitterness clearly on his tongue.
"And let us all pray that we live long enough to begin happily trading blows with one another when it's all over."
~oOo~
"It's alright, Tuka. You just need to tell them what you told me." Itami was saying, while the blue haired mage girl translated the words into the Special Region language.
They were all sitting inside one of the tents that had been set up to house the Coda village refugees; Itami, Joker, Reaper, the mage girl Lelei, and the elf girl Tuka. The latter seemed very uncomfortable, only looking at Itami and Lelei when they spoke, not ever meeting the Americans eye. Given all she had apparently been through, Joker couldn't say he exactly blamed her. The last thing he would have wanted in her shoes would have been an interrogation by two strange men that she didn't know. But she had information that would probably be useful to them on their scouting mission, that meant having to put her through some discomfort. It also meant having to go through a couple of translations, as Lelei seemed to speak a basic amount of Japanese by this point, and Itami could translate that into English. Joker and Reaper had taken their training in Special Region Language seriously, well for the most part, and could both speak in it and understand it better than most. That didn't mean much, and they were nowhere near fluent, so it helped to have a translator handy, even if it did go through a couple layers.
The elf girl shifted a little bit, then began to speak in a quiet tone, everyone having to lean in to actually hear what she was saying.
"...She says that the Lonham Forest is occupied by smattering of small nomadic encampments who call themselves 'The Forest Rangers'." The translators rattled off. "They aren't murderous fiends, but they aren't overly fond of strangers passing through the woods."
"Well isn't that perfect, that forest is our LZ." Reaper grunted. "It's also the best cover we have when trying to get from the southern part of the region to the more northern part. Now what do we do?"
Tuka spoke again, her voice a little bit louder, but sounding a bit sad.
"But there is a way to pass through without any problems. Her village was great friends with these Rangers despite the distance, and she knows how to placate them."
"That's great, how?"
The girl balled her fists, then reached into one of the pockets of the jeans she'd been given. She pulled out what looked like a half star that was swirling about made of small twigs and tightly bound in twine. It looked like no kind of craft Joker had ever seen before, reminding him a bit of the Dreamcatchers he'd seen many of the Ojibwe own back home.
"This object shows you to be a friend of the Rangers, allowing you to pass through the Lonham Forest unmolested. If any confront you, simply show it to them and they shall trouble you no more."
"Woah, that is pretty handy. Thank you." Joker reached out to grab it, but Tuka pulled it back to her chest, looking at the Sniper with eyes filled with so much pain it actually caused a pang in his heart. When she spoke again, it was clear that she was choking back tears.
"She will give this to you on one condition. You must find the last member of her village that is currently living among the Rangers." Itami cocked his head. "It's...apparently her cousin. Probably the only family she's got left. Tuka wants you to tell her about what happened to the village."
Joker and Reaper exchanged glances. Hunting down a random girl in a large forest wasn't part of their mission and would likely take away precious time. On the other hand, they would probably need that arts and crafts project of hers in order to stay under the radar while they were out there, and there was no way either of them would be able to replicate it. They could always just lie and say they'd do it of course, but the poor girl didn't deserve that.
"I promise we'll do everything we can to find her and deliver the message." Joker said, careful in his wording to make sure he didn't guarantee a concrete result. Tuka seemed to watch him for a moment longer, as if trying to see if he was being deceitful, then slowly dropped the fashioned wood and twine into his outstretched palm. "What's your cousin's name?"
"Kat'lana…" Her voice barely above a whisper again.
"Alright, leave it to us." Joker offered her his most winning smile "We're on the job."
"Thanks, Lieutenant." Reaper nodded.
"No problem." Itami said. "Good luck, to both of you."
The pair nodded, standing up and heading out of the tent. Outside, Captain Mitchell was holding an unlit cigarette in his hand, looking at it with a blank expression on his face.
"Didn't know you were a smoker, sir." Joker said as they walked over to him.
"I haven't been for about ten years now." Mitchell sighed, tucking the item into one of his pockets. "How'd it go?"
"About as well as we could have hoped. We got intel and some other aid, I guess these refugees are good for something after all."
"So it would seem…" The Captain said, his eyes wandering to the side where several other locals were sitting on a bench. One of them, Joker remembered her name as being "Rory Mercury" from the briefing, was watching them as they left, licking her lips slightly as she grinned.
"I think you've got a fan, Captain." Reaper commented.
"Please don't say that."
"Why is she just staring at you like that?"
"I have no fucking clue." He groaned. "Anytime I'm around her she just follows me with her eyes, with that creepy grin on her face."
"...Well you know sir, if her file is right, she's totally legal."
"I will put you in a hole and blame it on a goddamn dragon, Sergeant."
"Shutting up now sir."
~oOo~
It wasn't quite a new moon in the sky, but there was just the barest sliver of light that reflected off of the JSDF Chinook as it came down for a landing in the forest clearing. There was no masking the noise that it made though, or the wind currents flowing downward as it got lower to the ground and scared away all the animals that had never seen a metal beast such as this. They would need to do this fast.
Joker waited as he watched the ramp drop, the night vision goggles covering his eyes coating the world around him into different shades of green. The Helicopter crew chief held out his hand palm upwards, instructing them to wait. Closer and closer they got to the ground, until they all could feel the slight shudder as the ramp made contact with the forest floor. A moment later, the Crew Chief gave them the thumbs up. It was game time. Joker gunned the engine on his ATV, rocketing out of the chinook and onto the wilderness as Reaper came up behind him on his own four wheeler. The moment they were off the wind picked up once more as the JSDF chopper lifted off for home, leaving the two Marines to go charging off into the woods, their modified vehicles equipped with silencers to mask any loud noises from the exhaust and loaded down with all the equipment they could load onto them.
It was time to do a little exploration of the Special Region.