It sounded like the sky itself was breaking apart. Again and again, the repeating sounds of crack-boom reached the ears of the combatants that were brought to a pause even in the middle of the life of death struggle by the violent sensory intrusion. Hexen, breathing heavily as he yanked his sword from the torso of a slain orc, swiveled his head back and forth as he tried to track the source of it through the chaos and the noise of his own heavily breathing and pounding heart. As best he could tell, it seemed to be coming from the southwestern flank of the village opposite of the side that the House Duron forces had begun their desperate counterattack. There were no large creatures or anything else that would be an obvious suspect for so monstrous a sound, and Hexen had a terrible sinking feeling that it had somehow been caused by the rampaging orcs. But they seemed to be just as surprised as the Imperials, looking over their shoulders to the other end of the village and exchanging glances at one another as if they too were looking for answers.

For a brief moment, time itself seemed to stand still as the two sides were forced a halt from their confusion. The stillness ended a heartbeat later as another crack broke through the air and seem to send the orcs into a wash of bewilderment as a disorganized mob of the marauders broke off from their battle with the humans and began running towards the menacing noise. So sudden was the shift in the winds of battle that Hexen found himself hesitating on what to do about it. Fortunately, others were far quicker to recover.

"The grey skins are in disarray!" Myron shouted, rearing up his horse. "Press the advantage! Cut them down!"

One of the remaining orcs gave a hissing roar in the direction of the old knight, breaking off into a gurgle as an arrow from Kat's bow jammed itself into his throat. A war cry began to build in the surviving soldiers as they rallied to the attack once more. Even Hexen could feel his own aching muscles gain a second wind as he led the charge towards the heart of Joyce Hamlet. Two orcs attempted to meet him head on, but neither seemed to notice the other as they focused purely on their intended prey. Just before the three could meet, the Lord dashed to the left, letting the orc to his right swing his blade to widely to compensate and decapitating his comrade. He recoiled a bit in surprise, but Hexen didn't give any chance at recovery, driving the edge of his sword into his opponent's torso and ripping through the toughened flesh before pressing on without missing a step. The remaining raiders that had been busy pillaging were forced to put their rampant looting and slaughtering on hold to do battle, but the disorganized fashion in which they were charging out favored the House Duron forces, the soldiers cutting through their nonexistent battle lines while Kat and the other archers were able to pick off the outliers.

They were also aided in a worrying fashion by the still undetermined sound, which was not becoming far more frequent and accompanied by what could only be the wails of dying orcs. The immediate threat of the battle before them allowed Hexen to not think about it too much at the moment, but somewhere in the back of his mind a feeling of uneasiness was growing with every step they took into the Hamlet. But it was hard to feel fear of the unknown when the enemy was more than happy to be in one's face.

Keeping track of the flow of a fight was a difficult undertaking under the best of circumstances. Trying to do so while you yourself was directly at its center made doing so a nearly futile endeavor. One moment, the pain of being hit in the chest plate gave way to nearly blackout. The next, Hexen would find himself looming over yet another fallen foe, black blood dripping from his weapon as his lungs burned for breath that he had apparently forgotten to intake. It was sensory overload followed by sensory absence as he stared down at the slain orc for a moment and attempted to get his bearings once more as the placement of a log structure directly to his front left him feeling more than a little displaced. A body of one of his men was slumped nearby, neck twisted at an odd angle. Even in victory, Hexen was reminded, terrible prices in his precious number of trained troops would be extracted. Perhaps even coming to the aid of this Hamlet had been too foolhardy a move, perhaps he should have taken more than a heartbeat to think on where to fight and how. That's what his father would have done. His brother would have already found a way to route the warband by this point. But he wasn't either of them, and it wouldn't do to dwell on such things when this skirmish wasn't yet over.

As if reminding him of the reason for coming here, Hexen saw a pair of eyes staring out at him from a nearby window just below the wooden shutter. They looked older, with deep wrinkles around them and a faded color in their eye. One of the elderly of the village who was too feeble to defend themselves against the murderous raiders. He offered the eyes a simple nod before turning away to find the next grey skin to slay. To his surprise, none were within easy reach, most that he had been doing his best to keep track of either having already been dispatched or must have fled. Whatever feel for the battlefield he might have had a few moments ago was long gone. There were still the sounds of battle he could follow, which would likely lead him to the source of the blasting noise that was still going off.

Fear of the unknown was threatening to creep in with the fading of adrenaline through Hexen's body, but there was little other choice that he could see, having lost sight of both Myron and Kat in the melee. Forcing the uneasiness down, Hexen set off once again towards the other side of Joyce Hamlet. To his mild surprise there was a sort of trail for him to follow, a line of an increasing number of dead orcs that didn't have any visible cut marks from blades or strange body positions to suggest death by bludgeoning. Their mortal wounds seemed to be from small holes within their torsos and more than a few heads that were far too small for any spear or bow attack that Hexen had ever seen, and no arrows or bolts around them in any case. There wasn't much time to consider this mystery before he realized that one final living orc was right ahead of him, back turned to the Lord.

Not wanting to give up such an opportunity, Hexen lowered his stance and began to charge forward to strike at the flank of his vulnerable enemy. He was only two steps away when the boom of three more cracks in quick succession sounded off as if right next to him, faltered the momentum that had been built and seemed to have stagged the orc as well. It fell backwards with a groan of pain, three bleeding holes in its flesh. Hexen skidded to a halt to prevent tripping over the body, head swiveling back and forth to try and understand what happened. There was an expectation that only something large and mighty could have made such a loud and quick kill. To his surprise, the only others around were two figures crouching at the corner of one of the homes that gave a good view of their immediate surroundings. They didn't look human to Hexen's eye at first, wearing strange dirty attire that covered most of their bodies but were skillfully sown in a way that the mottled fabric didn't hang loose off their arms or legs and headwear that seemed to be made of some sort of cloth yet it to didn't seem to flop downward around it's ring on the base. His first inclination was that they were of the Forest Rangers judging by the number of pouches and presumed tools that they kept around their torsos and belts, but they didn't hold any bow or blade that he had ever seen amongst their ranks. Rather they seemed to wield black staffs that had branches jutting out at odd angles that their hands gripped and pressed to their shoulders as if they were crossbows.

Both of these staffs were leveled at Hexen the moment he made eye contact with the pair, filling him with a primal terror that he would soon be following in the orc's fate. But just as quickly as the threat was made, it was gone once again, the assumed weapons sweeping back around to search for other targets. The flush of relief was nearly enough to bring Hexen to his knees, but he managed to keep his footing even as a million questions began to form and die in his throat in sequence.

"My Lord!" He heard Myron's horse come to a halt beside him before coming into view. "Are you hurt?"

"Cuts and bruises, nothing serious." He assured his retainer. "What of you?"

"I'm not so out of practice that I would let these beasts strike me while on horseback." Myron snorted with contempt. "Then again, I'm not the one who chose to take on all this number of them here on my own."

"These orcs weren't slain by my hand, rather those of our new and unexpected allies." Hexen nodded in the direction of the two strangers. They still weren't taking any hostile actions, but neither had they made any moves to greet them, just whispering to one another and looking at them with what could generously be called uncertainty. Hexen raised a hand so they could see, choosing a diplomatic approach rather than throwing around authority and trying to command them. "Hail, friends! You have my gratitude for your aid. Would you allow us the honor of knowing the identities of our allies?"

The pair had an argument that he couldn't overhear from that distance, glancing at Hexen and Myron several times before it seemed to have come to an end. They stood up and started over to meet them, a slow and cautious movement that seemed to be born of wariness of any other threats that could have been present. There was a fierceness in their eyes whenever gazes met that sent a chill down Hexen's spine. It reminded him of the look that Edmund would have whenever something serious would interrupt his day, from a seemingly carefree nobleman to an experienced warrior in a quick and quiet heartbeat. These men had been killers long before slaying the orcs within the hamlet.

"Myron, did you see where Lady Kat'lana went?" He asked, trying to distract his himself from the sudden unease that had settled in his gut. "I lost track of her during the fight."

"Right here!" The half elf hopped off a nearby rooftop to land nearby, looking a little bit worse for wear but lacking any major injuries. "I can't find any more of the marauders. There must have been less than we…expected…"

Kat trailed off as she saw the two strangers, eyes growing wide in surprise. The men in green likewise fixed their gazes upon her, hesitating noticeably upon her arrival. It wasn't one of defensiveness or, rather one of recognition.

"…Friends of yours, girl?" Myron asked, seeming to have put the pieces together himself as well.

"No! Well, sort of. It's hard to explain." She stammered, and Hexen furrowed his brow at how seemingly uncomfortable she was at their arrival.

"Are they part of the Rangers?"

"They are…travelers. From very far in the south, outside the empire. We met recently when they were traveling through the forest while I was rallying the different camps. I wasn't aware that they had secured safe passage through, and we had a briefly hostile confrontation."

"I see." There had always been rumors that the Forest Rangers allowed select individuals to travel through Lonham without any trouble such friends of the group or merchants who were permitted to ply their trade. Hexen wondered what two humans from far away could have done to earn such a privilege. "How far to the south do you mean?"

"I don't know for sure, their grasp on our language isn't the best." She shrugged.

"Suppose that shouldn't be very surprising." Hexen turned his attention back to them, the two men having been looking back and forth between whoever was speaking. "Can you understand what I'm saying?"

"Small." The shorter one said with a distinct accent. "Can listen enough, but word difficult."

"Well, it may not be ideal, but at least we'll be able to speak."

"The blonde one said his name is Joker, while the one with the darker complexion is called Reaper."

"Joker? Like a court jester?" Myron interrupted.

"I believe they are titles more than proper names. Perhaps their culture is something similar to the ancient dwarves, where their accomplishments or personalities account for how they are addressed." Kat offered.

It wasn't the title "Joker" that brought the most curiosity in Hexen's eyes, knowing plenty of jovial people who would be a good fit for the label even if they wouldn't accept it. What was more worrying was the fact the other name, "Reaper", didn't require much imagination to work out how it was earned. Which made it all the more worrying that he seemed to be deferring to the shorter man to take the lead.

"We thank you for your aid in this battle, Sirs Joker and Reaper. I am Lord Hexen Duron, the ruler of these lands. This is my loyal aid, Sir Myron, and it seems you're already familiar with Kat." He introduced himself and the others. "I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I must admit that I'm curious. What is it that brought you so far from home?"

"We…. search work. Look for gold." Joker answered after a moment of trying to find the right words.

"Search for- oh, Mercenaries?"

"Yes, mercenaries." He nodded enthusiastically.

"Wait a moment." Myron cut in. "My Lord, might these warriors be the soldiers in green?"

"The who?" Hexen asked.

"Surely you must have heard about them. The few tradesmen that have been coming through have been talking about it nonstop."

"I've been a little busy to be exchanging gossip with passersby." He retorted. "Enlighten us, if you will."

"The tales say that a fire dragon has begun menacing the lands near the city of Italica, destroying several villages and slaughtering anything and everyone it comes across."

"A flame dragon?! You're certain?"

"I cannot say for sure, my lord. But that is what the survivors say." Myron answered. "One of the larger groups came from an outlying village and say that a group of mercenaries wearing strange green attire and wielding black staffs of terrible magical power came to warn them of the threat. These Soldiers in Green obliged to protect the villagers as they were forced to abandon their homes, and even on their journey to reach the safety of the north. Along the way, however, the fire dragon appeared! It slew over a dozen of their numbers, then the Soldiers in Green launched a counterattack to protect the survivors. The villagers thought that these mercenaries were mad or possibly suicidal. Yet somehow, they managed to drive the beast off with their mighty sorcery! Doing great damage to it in the process."

"What?!" Kat suddenly demanded; her entire stature suddenly very tense. "They drove off the flame dragon?!"

"That does sound like quite the tall tale, Myron." Hexen agreed. "Entire orders of Knights couldn't slay such a monster. Perhaps it was just an unusually large wyvern or something similar."

"Perhaps, My Lord. But the stories insist that it was the genuine thing." The old knight gestured to Joker and Reaper. "And these two appear to be quite similar in appearance to the acclaimed 'Soldiers in Green'."

"Brothers." Reaper spoke for the first time. "We not do fighting there."

"But was it truly a flame dragon they fought?" Hexen pressed, guessing that the word "Brothers" might be a mistranslation of "comrade" or was meant to be taken literally as they were part of the same order of warriors or clan.

"Not know." Joker shrugged. "No see."

"Unsurprising." Myron grunted. "It's not as if Italica is all that close to our lands."

Kat had gone silent and was staring at these two "Soldiers in Green" with an intense expression. She didn't seem to be taking the news about the flame dragon well, which wasn't an uncalled-for response. It seemed as if the gods were simply unleashing their wrath upon the weakened Empire while they were left with little chance to respond. Perhaps that's what also was attracting such mercenaries as these to the lands, desperate people would pay nearly any price for aid they needed.

It took a moment for Hexen to truly realize the irony of that thought. HE was desperate and would pay nearly anything to get the aid his people so badly needed. These Soldiers in Green, if their comrades truly had driven off a Flame Dragon, then perhaps…

"Your staffs there, they allow you to cast the magic that killed the orcs here, yes?" Hexen asked. The two men glanced at one another, then nodded in response.

He glanced around at the nearby bodies once more, this time with a keener eye. There was such precision in the way they had been cut down, lying near one another in a way that suggested their deaths had been much quicker than what would have been possible with a slow firing crossbow. That must have been their "style". Though he didn't know much about wizards as most seemed content to study either in isolation or at the Academy in the city of Rondel, but those he had witnessed seemed to like bight and flashy spells like a large fireball which could obliterate an entire room of enemies and allies alike. But the wizards before him did not hail from the Empire, and their magical style seemed to be far more focused on individual combatants rather than mass devastation. That made sense it a way, these wizards were not academics who would only fight when forced to, they were warriors, and their way of casting magic would reflect that. It would also explain the strange equipment that they carried with them, likely ingredients that could be brought together to form ever more powerful spells should such things be required. Hexen wasn't sure what that would look like, and perhaps he didn't need to.

"How far can you cast your magic?" He asked. "Using your staffs, I mean."

Joker blinked a few times, as if trying to decipher the words, while Reaper suddenly appeared a little uneasy.

"Far." The blonde man answered simply. It was an evasive answer, and untrustworthy answer. But Hexen wasn't ready to give up quite yet. Not when this could be the last missing piece to save his lands.

"Could you hit…" He looked around, then pointed out to the distance. "Say, that tree over there?"

He regretted his choice in hypotheticals the moment after he said it. The tree was at nearing three stades away from where they were standing, over twice the furthest he'd ever see a crossbow bolt go. There was being hopeful, and there was being foo-

CRACK

Hexen jumped in surprise at the sudden assault on his ears, his mind barely registering the almost imperceptible view of a branch falling off the tree he'd indicated. A heartbeat later he understood what had happened, and whirled around to see Joker lowering his staff from its positions on his shoulder.

"Yes."

Both Kat and Myron had taken a step back from the sound, with stances hiked up like cats who were trying to protect themselves after being startled. Reaper's reaction was more unexpected, as he was frowning at his fellow mercenary in a way that said he was unsure why his fellow had done it.

But all of this was drowned out by the sudden flush of excitement and hope that was rushing through him, the pounding of his own heart in his ears. These Soldiers in Green, whether or not they were capable of chasing off a flame dragon, could be exactly what they needed to defeat the orcs. The gods had been so cruel in recent times, but perhaps this was their gift to start making things right. In this chance meeting of chance meetings.

"That was... very impressive." He said, clearing his throat as he tried to keep a cool and collected front. "Thank you for the demonstration."

"So far." Kat seemed to be in awe. "I've never seen any bow send an arrow at that distance."

"Such is the power of sorcery." Myron nodded solemnly. "The world is fortunate that most of those who practice the ways of magic are largely pacifistic."

A fine sentiment, but at the moment Hexen was more grateful that these two weren't like their more academically inclined brethren. He decided to focus all his attention on the one who was called Joker, clearly acting as the superior of the pair who was likely the decision maker as well.

"Sir Joker, you have seen for yourself the scourge that is plaguing our land." He gestured to take in the ruined Hamlet. "Here was just a small group in a far larger army that has invaded my land. The orc warband has been carving a bloody path, slaughtering the innocent, and plundering everything they believe of value. My House has so few soldiers left in its service that I do not know if we can stop them alone. But if you were willing to join us, we may have a chance to put an end to this."

"...You're trying to hire them?" Kat spoke again.

"Why not? They are Mercenaries." Myron pointed out. "And judging by the fact that we're willing to work with YOUR kind, I'd say our goal is to take all the help we can."

The half elf glared at him but didn't answer. Hexen didn't bother to turn to them, keeping his gaze locked with the soldier in green. His expression was unreadable, as if studying the metal of the Lord's soul.

"You have plan?" He asked

"I do." Hexen nodded, a small lie that was gaining truth by the second. "The larger warband is gathering not far from my family estate, with a terrain that will be crucial to our defense when the time comes, and where my plan can be effectively executed. But it's a strategy that can only be accomplished with the help of you and your magic. Do be blunt, I'm begging for your help."

"Do not degrade yourself in such a way, sire." Myron snorted. "We can pay you very well for your time and efforts. More than enough to cover your expenses wherever you wish to wander next."

"He is correct." Hexen seconding, kicking himself for not pointing out the most obvious benefit when it came to the desires of sellswords. These wizards didn't have the greedy aura of most mercenaries he'd met before, and it was apparently all too easy to not see who they really were. "If we are victorious, and if we survive, you will be very well paid. But more than that, you'll be saving countless lives. I ask you now, will you lend us your aid?"

~oOo~

"Fuck man. Fuck fuck FUCK." Reaper was kicking at the ground in frustration while cussing like a twelve-year-old who had just learned the word. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"What, this isn't what you had in mind when you were saying we should charge in and save the day?" Joker asked. "That the villagers here would just say thank you without any other consequences? Maybe hold a parade in our honor?"

He knew the last thing his partner wanted to hear at the moment was an attempt at humor, but the sniper didn't know how else to respond. Neither of them had put much thought in what to do after they came to the rescue of the Hamlet, the pressure of the moment not conducive to taking time for serious thought, but Joker had thought they would be able to just slip away quickly and quietly once the orcs had been dealt with one way or another. He didn't imagine that local forces were already engaged with them just out of sight, let alone that they were being led by the god damn local Lord of the region.

That same Lord had thankfully bought their lie of having to "consider" his offer after it had been made, giving the Marines space and privacy to talk while he and his group finished a sweep of the area and did what they could to assist the surviving residents of the Hamlet. Technically they could just try to slip away to the forest again, but after everything that had just been done and said it didn't seem like the right thing to do in the moment. If only they could figure out what WAS the right thing to do here.

"We should have just left. Just bugged out as soon as we saw those knights or whatever." Reaper shook his head, not responding to the quip. "Why the hell did you want to stick around and talk to them? Now we're caught up in all this bullshit."

"Because they had calvary nearby, jackass." Joker answered sharply. "If we made a run for it, they may have sent them after us and the whole point of helping the locals would have been for fucking nothing."

"Yeah but now we get to face the wrath of the Colonel instead of guys with pointy sticks. Great trade off." The Spotter groaned. "He's going to kill us."

"No one is going to kill anyone. Our cover hasn't been blown and we've collected a lot more intelligence on the region than we had before, turning one big question mark on the map into something that's actionable."

"I'm sure the brass will accept that when we call it in, and they haul our asses back to base faster than you can say 'dressing down'."

Joker didn't answer right away, seeing a small object that was lying on the ground that didn't look like anything the orcs or knights had been carrying. He crouched down to pick it up, brushing the dirt off to see the features of what seemed to be a primitive clay doll. It must have been dropped during the fight by a child fleeing from the orcs. There was no body nearby that it could have belonged to, thankfully, but that did present another possibility. Joker scanned his immediate surroundings, seeing if maybe…. ah, there. A young girl was watching them from around one of the corners of the smoldering ruins of a nearby hutch.

She was obviously afraid, and Joker felt a pang of sympathy as he realized that the kid had just gone through the experience of her life during this attack, and now probably the one thing which could bring her any comfort was now being blocked by strangers who didn't look or act like anyone she'd ever seen.

"Is this yours?" He asked in the Special Region's language, holding up the toy.

She withdrew slightly but nodded after a moment. Joker slowly walked over to the girl, careful not to appear too aggressive in body language. She seemed ready to bolt for it when he got within a couple meters, but he didn't get any closer, kneeling down to be at her eye level and holding the doll out for her. The kid looked between him and the toy, trying to decide if there was some kind of trick or other danger from the gesture. Then she lunged forward and snatched the doll from his grasp, hugging it tightly as she ran away as fast as her legs would carry.

Joker smiled to himself, the small deed able to give the slightest of lights to what had otherwise been a cruel and bloody deployment thus far. It didn't make things right, but it made things seem a little less gloomy at least.

"Joker, I know when you're ignoring me." Reaper said. "We HAVE to call this in, right?"

"Of course." He agreed. "But maybe we could just…hold off for a bit."

"And why in the hell would we do that?"

"Think about it. We report on this right now, telling them everything, and what's bound to happen."

"It's like I said, they're probably gonna order us to get out of dodge."

"Yeah, but that's just the beginning." Joker pointed out. "The JSDF will almost certainly take charge of things. We'll tell them everything about what's been going on, about how there's a war with these orcs that are killing everyone and so on. You know what they're going to do? Jack and shit."

"Okay, maybe." Reaper agreed.

"Maybe? We've both seen how things are going. The Japanese want to take things super slow, and that's even with the areas around the base. The people here won't get anything but thoughts and fucking prayers."

"We could appeal to Colonel Jackson?"

"Colonel Jackson isn't in charge here. WE'RE not in charge here." He gestured between the two of them for emphasis. "Just getting to the point where we were allowed out on this mission took weeks. We tell the JSDF we were discovered, and they'll never let another Marine off that base."

"Even if you're right, which I'm not saying you are." Reaper amended. "How does not calling it in help? We're good, but not 'take on a whole army by ourselves' good."

"It doesn't sound like we need to be. Our little Lord Hexen over there says he has a plan."

"You mean the kid who looks like he's about to piss himself at any moment? That's who you want to pin this stupid idea on?!"

"Come on, you saw him in the fight just like me. He's got brains and guts, he's just in over his head with all this."

That was still being a little generous. This "Hexen Duron" was nearly a decade their junior in age but had dark circles across his eyes and lines across his face that suggested that he was running on little or no sleep in recent days. The future of his lands and people were on the line and, to his credit, he wasn't just sitting back and letting others do all the fighting and heavy lifting for him like the caricature of most medieval nobles back in Europe. There was a desperate earnestness about him that made Joker want to help, to help lift the heavy burdens off the shoulders of someone he'd just met. Perhaps that was why he had indulged the Lord in his questions and had even given a demonstration as to how far he could shoot. Joker had convinced himself that he'd only done so to sate curiosity and be on their way, along with being an implicit threat in case they considered any actions against the marines. But there was something more to it than that. He wanted to see what Duron had in mind, what the gears turning rapidly behind his tired eyes were building.

"Man, he thinks we're some kind of wizards from another continent." Reaper reminded him. "For all we know his 'plan' is for us to just wave our hands in the air and strike them down with lightning or shoot laser bolts to from our rifles to cut down an entire army."

"I don't think so." Joker shook his head. "He got a pretty good demonstration of what we could do with those orcs. And when he was asking whether we'd be able to hit that tree, it sounded like he was trying to get an idea of our effective range."

"What does that have to do with-ah." Understanding came to his partner's voice. "He's hoping we'll be able to snipe a target."

'I think so." Joker nodded. "He doesn't need to understand the specifics of HOW we can do it with that kind of plan, just whether or not we CAN do it. I say we humor him and find out for sure what he wants to do. If we think his plan is insane or otherwise not up to the job, then we fall back on the original plan of reporting all that happened and duck out while the going is still good."

"Alright, I'll bite. Let's say this all goes exactly like you think it will. We follow the Lord, fight the orcs, and win and get the girl or whatever. What do we do afterwards?"

"Easy. At that point we'll have the appreciation of an actual government official in the Special Region, so we call up the Colonel to tell him the good news, maybe fudge the timeline a little so it doesn't look like we knew about this whole thing for very long, and then we get to be heroes on both sides."

"Really? You don't think Jackson won't just see right through that bullshit?"

"I think he'll be so happy that he won't give a shit." Joker countered. "You heard it during the briefing: the JSDF hasn't been able to make contact with anyone higher than a village chief. But here, we've got ourselves a bonafide lord! No way the Japanese are gonna be able to do better than that. We walk away looking double good for doing our job and their job in one."

"Great. One problem. Well, several problems, but one major one." Reaper held up a finger. "How exactly do you think everyone here generally, and Lord Hexen specifically, will react when they find out who we really are? Because as far as they and us are concerned, there's still a war going on between us."

He was right, and there was no easy way to gage what the reaction would be without overplaying their hand and likely being discovered. It didn't that it seemed the Duron family crest that Hexen still had emblazoned on his armor was the same damn symbol that Joker had already seen twice now, and he had almost certainly lost friends and family at Ginza and Alnus. But that was likely to be a problem with anyone of real power they'd run into in the Feudal Style system that the Special Region seemed to have.

"We'll have to play that one by ear." Joker answered after a moment. "We'll only tell the truth if and when we think it's appropriate or at the very least won't get us killed. And that's AFTER we fight the orcs."

"Good thing we're professional diplomats who know how to play our cards close to the chest." Reaper answered sarcastically. "To be clear, you want us to pose as these rent-a-soldier wizards long enough to hear what this noble has planned to beat an army of inhuman brutes that can probably snap us in two all so that we can save the lives of people who would probably want us dead. Have I got it right?"

"More or less."

"If this all goes sideways, I'm telling everyone you ordered me to do this."

He laughed at that, before his peripheral vision warned him that they weren't alone anymore. The first thought that came to him was that Hexen himself or one of his subordinates were coming to try and spy on them. Instead, it was a woman that was only slightly taller than him with dirty brown hair and attire that seemed to come straight out of a fantasy movie. Kat's arrival was as silent as their first meeting, making no more noise than a single leaf being blown by a gentle breeze. Joker knew that he could be quite stealthy when the moment demanded it, but he had nothing on the Ranger. To his mild surprise, she'd come alone, as there seemed to be some sort of alliance of convenience going on here.

"Joker, Reaper." Kat nodded to each of them, her skin seeming to take on a slight shine to it. "Speak in own tongue. Nobleman overhear cannot."

Shit, it was still a struggle to understand the Special Region language sometimes. He could usually pick up on the overall context of what was being said, and form it into and understandable sentence, a trick he learned while trying to listen to conversations in Pashtun during his tours in Afghanistan. It usually worked out fine, especially when he'd recently glanced at a translation guide, but not always. At least Kat had some power that let her understand what they were saying, a talent that he hoped wasn't very widespread.

"Alright then." He answered with forced casualness. "Something you wanted to talk about?"

"Why you not tell me about the flame dragon? How you drove it off?"

"Because for one, it really wasn't us who fought the damn thing. For another, it didn't seem all that relevant. It wasn't like it had been killed or anything. As far as we know, it's still out there somewhere."

"Certain it was dragon?"

"As sure as we can be without having see it firsthand. They say it was colossal and breathed fire and I dunno any other creature that matches that description." He shrugged. "Ask Tuka whenever you get around to seeing her. She was there and saw it for herself."

"Which brings up something that's pretty important." Reaper interjected. "You didn't tell Lord Duron where we were really from."

"No."

"Why?"

Kat studied them for a moment, as if gaging their response to her answer. She was one of the wild cards in all this, Joker's honest answer about how they were from Alnus Hill during their first meeting having come back to bite him in the ass. From the way Tuka had described the Forest Rangers, he'd assumed they were a group who essentially kept to themselves and didn't interact with the nobility. If she chose to tell everyone the truth, then this whole situation could go very bad very quickly.

"I do not trust. But do not wish to cause fight either." She said, crossing her arms. "Orcs great danger. We fight each other, cannot fight them."

"Assuming we come and help, what about after we beat them."

"No my problem. Do not serve Duron, only forest. But will want to see Tuka."

A compelling argument for keeping them alive, if nothing else. She would need them all to work together for the coming battle, and then would probably need them alive afterwards if she wanted to see her cousin without causing more trouble for herself. Put together, it meant that they could probably trust Kat to keep what she knew to herself. For now. Still, it wouldn't hurt to put their cards on the table to make that clear.

"Tell you what; we all make it out of this in one piece, and we'll take you to see her yourself. If you agree not to tell anyone about that. Deal?"

"Deal." She agreed.

"And we mean just you." Reaper clarified. "No other brothers or sisters or whatever. At least not at first."

"…. No worry. Is no one else." A glimpse of sadness came over Kat's eyes.

Joker gave his partner a sharp look, obviously the idiot had forgotten or just hadn't been paying attention when Itami had said she was Tuka's only remaining family. He seemed to realize his mistake and shut up.

"Anyway, now that we have it settled, we need to speak to Lord Duron. Tell him we're going to help."

"But why? Is Duron not enemy?"

"It's a little more complicated than that." He said. "We have an interest in keeping him alive for the time being. Plus, we can't just sit back and let people die if we can stop it."

"Are different from Empire." Kat remarked. "I not understand, but won't turn down aid. You fine enough warriors."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Joker snorted.

"Duron on far side Hamlet. Will tell you coming."

Having apparently decided the conversation was over, Kat turned and climbed up the side of one of the intact homes to its roof, then bounded over to the next one with materials that would be sturdy enough to hold her weight.

"God damn. Makes me wish I'd tried to take up parkour more seriously." Joker remarked, finding that Reaper was giving him the raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Really man? First Sergeant Kuribayashi and now this weird forest chick?"

"The hell are you talking about?" He asked, following behind where Kat had gone.

"Don't even try playing dumb with me, man. We just so happen to come across an attractive blonde who lives in the woods and probably has your dream lifestyle of just hunting and fishing all day, and you're gonna tell me you didn't even think about making a pass at her?"

"I didn't! Honest!" For once, he was actually telling the truth. Joker had of course noticed that she was easy on the eyes, not losing much if anything to Kuribayashi in the looks department, but he genuinely hadn't thought about it beyond a simple observation. Given everything else, on what little he knew about her at least, that would seem like the least important thing to focus on. "You really think that's where my mind's at with all this going on?"

"Whatever you say, brother. Just don't come crying to me when you end up the loser in your little JSDF vs Special Region game blows up in your face. I'm betting they could both kill you pretty easily if they wanted to."

Joker rolled his eyes, not wanting to give him any more verbal ammunition that would doubtlessly be used against him in the future.

They found Hexen and his one-armed Knight helping with the dirty task of collecting bodies. Most of them were civilians who lived in the Hamlet, but more than a few were probably soldiers who had joined him in the counterattack to drive back the raiders. It once again surprised Joker to see that a Lord would be doing such a task, as he'd have assumed that a noble would see such duty as far beneath him. Perhaps things truly were different here in ways that they had yet to learn. Kat was also nearby, conducting what seemed to be a religious right as the dead were buried. Hexen looked up at their approach.

"Lord Duron." Joker greeted him as they got closer. "How bad were your losses?"

"Bad enough." Hexen said, his tone one of absolute exhaustion. "But could been worse, thanks for you."

"Team effort. You hit them from the front, we hit them from the back." He chewed at the inside of his cheek before speaking again. This would be their last chance to back out. They could just say that they couldn't help and be on their way. It wouldn't be the reaction expected of mercenaries, but they all had way too much on their plates to worry about the two of them. They had to fight an enemy who wanted all of them dead and gone, turning and running wasn't an option for them. Which was why Joker couldn't leave it either, or trust it to the indecisive mercies of the JSDF. "We've decided to accept your offer. We'll go along with you, if you'll have us."

A smile played across Hexen's face, not one of excitement, rather of pure relief.

"Thank you. You no idea how good I hear." He answered. "If that's case, we'll need to make fast to Northwest where our army gathers and where think warband is headed. Have horses for travel?"

"Uh, no. We travel faster through the forest." They would need to return to their camp to gather the rest of their equipment, but he also didn't want to chance Hexen seeing the ATV's. They may not be able to bullshit their way into explaining them as just more magic. "Need to gather supplies and ingredients before we join you in battle. But if you can tell us where you want to meet, we won't be long."

Hexen seemed to consider this, then looked over their shoulders.

"Kat!" He called, getting the attention of the Ranger. "Two wish travel through forest. Can guide?"

"Can guide." She nodded, giving the two marines a knowing look. "Don't slow me down."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

(A/N: Yeahhhh I have no excuses this time. For some unknown reason , this chapter was the hardest yet to put to paper. You have my deepest apologies and promises to do better going forward)