Stepping out of the command building, Redgenald stepped up next to Green. The elf scout's face was twisted with irritated frustration, and his hands were continually clenching and unclenching at his sides. He had the appearance of a man who wasn't in the right frame of mind to be left alone, as he could act impulsively at any moment. A serious problem if the reaper wanted to complete his duties.

"I have to run some errands to prepare for our departure," Redgenald said, his voice casual. "If you wouldn't mind, care to come with me while I tend to them."

From the corner of his vision, the inquisitor saw Green's eyes snap to him the moment he started speaking. Seconds passed, marked by the thumping footfalls and rustling clothes of those quickly moving along the street. Sounds that were nearly entirely missing from the scout and reaper if anyone bothered to pay attention to them.

"Is that an order? Do I even have a choice other than going with you? Why don't you skip the theatrics and just tell me what I'm supposed to do."

Eyebrow raising in amusement, Redgenald's head turned and looked at the scout without slowing down from his brisk pace. At the sight of the elf's impotent flare of frustration, the inquisitor couldn't help but snort in amusement, unable to stop himself from muttering, "Now, that is surprising."

"What? That I'm questioning you? That I don't want to just be told to go somewhere on a whim of yours?"

"I suppose that is how you are expressing your emotions, so yes." Redgeanld commented as he studied the elf, "But I'm specifically referring to the fact that you have them at all, which is interesting. And over something so mundane as well. I have seen elves lash out emotionally, but it is usually over something along the lines of their child being killed, not having their rightful commanding tribune giving them an assignment."

The elf opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and Redgenald didn't allow him the time to order his thoughts. "Now, to be honest, I probably should figure out what this is given your momentary significance… but I don't have the time or inclination to do so. It just isn't a priority for me. But if you are going to continually lash out like a child, I think it would be best if your involvement in events permanently ended sooner rather than later so we can readjust as needed. With that in mind, I have errands to run; come if you wish." Having said everything needed, Redgenald picked up the pace as he walked with purpose, not looking back to see what Scout Green decided.

Some part of the reaper was curious about what was different about this elf that his emotions were so… volatile and expressive, but those thoughts were quickly being shoved to the back of his mind. It could be that, like Redgenald himself, he was far more human than he first appeared, but it could also be another more interesting explanation. However, that was a matter for another day, as everyone knew elves weren't that interesting, so they never made it high on anyone's priority list.

As was his long-held habit, Redgeanld's head was constantly moving as he tracked everyone around him, categorizing their threats and listening for any interesting gossip. So it was a matter of seconds before he noticed Green moving to follow him, taking up a position a step to the side of his right shoulder.

Not having to concern himself with the scout's well-being was a minor worry that lifted off his mind, but it was still just that. Minor. He had tasks to take care of, and he was not going to be overly concerned with someone actively trying to get himself killed because he couldn't control his own emotions. You would think he would have figured that out long ago.

As they quickly walked through the Triad and out onto the Western plains, most of an hour had passed, putting the time close to midday. While the day should have long started, you wouldn't have guessed from the nearby people's appearances.

While within the fortress, it was mostly business as usual, you could still spot the occasional legionary or camp worker hungover and reluctantly plodding long in the performance of their duty. Things were quieter and overall less lively, but you could miss it if you weren't looking for the signs.

Outside the walls where most of the celebration had taken place, it was like a battle had been fought the night before. Hundreds, probably thousands, of bodies were scattered over the ground in every direction. Red stains of wine were covering their clothes, with more than a few sporting bloody faces and knuckles having engaged in some drunken altercation. Given how late in the day it was, there were distant signs of life, the most notable metal clanging, undercutting the clamor of thousands of murmuring voices, but not nearly what one would expect of a camp filled with tens of thousands.

Walking past the first two districts closest to the walls, Redgenald turned into the third ring of clustered together shanties and tents. While people of every social standing lost their homes and property within Southtown, that did not mean those who had to relocate were the same.

The farther one went from the walls, the more dilapidated and frayed things became. In direct contrast to the homes of the inhabitants' housing, the earthen walls and ditches they were using as primary defenses became more intricate, thicker, and taller the farther out one went. Most of those defenses were simple blocks of compact dirt, ditches, and berms, but given enough layers and effort in their construction, even those could become considerable obstacles.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

If there was one thing that the survivors of Southtown had in spades, it was the resilience and determination to protect their new homes from future attacks. The real quirk of the area was the source of pride these people had. Rather than be embarrassed by living in a tent with holes and tattered edges, those individuals looked proud.

Why? Well, it all came down to community. The ones with the worst housing were the ones putting the most effort into strengthening the defenses of the district. Or they were out on patrol or training to regain — or perhaps establish — their skill with a gladius and shield. The ones unwilling or unable to fight, well, they were concentrated out into the new fields popping up miles out into the grasslands near the Northern Forest.

As for the dregs of society — like the beggars unwilling to put in an honest day's work — they were nowhere to be seen as Redgeanld walked through the hard-packed streets. Most assumed they had all died in the fighting, or maybe the more positive and optimistic believed that the fall of the city had woken them up from their self-inflicted stupor, putting new purpose back into their lives.

That was true to some extent. There was nothing like a disaster that made people rethink their lives as they were confronted with the greatest heights and lowest depths humanity was capable of. And then there was the component of how could you expect someone who couldn't care for themselves to escape an invasion? So they must have gotten better, right?

No. That last part was utter kawrashit.

The truth was that people who spent years at the bottom of society were born survivors, and if anyone was going to make it out, it would be them. Which was a problem for Redgenald.

Over the years he had spent in Southtown, he had developed a certain… fondness for the place. The inhabitants were resilient, hardy folk who kept plodding along no matter how hard things got. Their focus on defending themselves after starting over was a perfect example. It was just that their homes and situation were dragging them down as everything around them deteriorated.

Being kicked out of Southtown… was, in many ways, a fresh start. Letting the wastes of space that will only draw down those around them into despair wasn't something that Redgenald would allow. He wasn't going to kill them… as a first step.

Now that his status as a Reaper and an inquisitor to boot had come out, his gang took on a far higher standing than it had before. Many of the two-bit smaller gangs that were reluctant to bend the knee to him before came flocking in and threw themselves to the ground at his feet… Though far more scurried into hiding.

Whatever this situation was, it wasn't a great strategy for the long term, as inquisitors worked best when no one knew they were around, so things would have to change, but right now, he was using what he had available to make the Triad a better place. Those who were a drain on society were given supplies and a few coins before being told to leave. If they came back, it wouldn't be long before they were struggling to swim while being weighted down with a few hundred-pound blocks attached to their foot.

Harsh, but if people who lacked moral character were given free rain in a desperate situation, far more would suffer. Some might condemn such actions, but they were naive fools who deluded themselves that you didn't need to constantly shed blood at the altar of peace and order to maintain the all too fleeting condition.

As Redgeanld walked along the road sporadically dotted with people, broken wine jugs, and the remnants of food, people began to notice him. A large man with elven ears was… hard to miss and even more difficult to not identify.

With a whisper leading the way, the people filling the road stepped to the sides, clearing the path for him, their eyes filled with either trepidation or respect. "Wasn't expecting that," Green commented, breaking the silence between them, his voice back to its usual indifference.

"Yes," Redgenald sighed. "Word of me has spread, and it has become difficult for me to conduct my business with the confidentiality it requires."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Not much that can be done. With a description floating around, everyone here will be looking for me. My only real choice is to move on and be reassigned. Eventually, if they aren't already here, another will show up and create a cover for themselves to keep an eye on the attitude of the population."

"A nice way of putting watching for treason."

"The nicer a person or a phrase is, the more dangerous they are. I find that's a rule of thumb that works in both professional and personal matters."

"Ha!" Green barked out a laugh, causing Redgenald to turn and look at him, quirking an eyebrow in question. Waving a hand at the reaper, the elf said, "No, I don't mean offense or anything. It's just that… I'm fully behind the logic, but I find it unlikely that you have much more luck or experience with the ladies than I have. People tend to not look past the ears… And then there's your job. Not to mention that you and Kathren don't appear to be making any progress in that area."

As soon as the last few words left his mouth, the elf flushed and shut up, looking embarrassed that he had brought up the topic. A wry smile curling his lips, Redgenald relaxed slightly as he said, "Sadly, you're right on all accounts. Can't say that many quality women are willing to give me the time of day."

"They just don't know what they're missing out on." the elf said, suddenly forming a unified self-commiserating front with the reaper. "Too stuck up for their own good."

"On that, I can a—

"Green!" Called out a man to the right as they stepped into an intersection, cutting Redgeanld off. "I didn't expect to see you here. Given last night, I would think you would be recovering after going to some important meeting with the Kin."

Looking over, Redgenald saw a centurion leading a squad of his legionaries through the camp, apparently on some peacekeeping assignment. That wasn't a bad idea because, as it was now, most of that kind of work was done under the direction of gangs.

"Ahh, Op— excuse me, Centurion Lun. I see that condolences are in order." Green responded, a small smile on his face.

"You're damn right," Shouted one of the legionaries, "You should have seen the look of horror when his tribune told him the news!"

Face flushing red, the new centurion shouted back amidst the light-hearted chuckles, "I see you just volunteered for latrine duty, Jankens."

"Ehh, it was worth it." the man shrugged, a broad smile appearing on his face. "So what are you doing out here, anyway? You don't need to be escorted again, do ya?" At the comment, a look of contemplation appeared on the centurion's face, his eyes darting around.

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