There was an unprecedented commotion in the streets of Tabre. A group of armed men were running through the streets shouting at the already terrified citizens as if they were trying to attract the attention of every single guard in the city.
They had amassed a group of around fifty or so guards behind them. A couple people in the group had fallen behind and started combat with the group of guards, but most of the guards were too busy chasing the others to focus on the few stragglers.
Needless to say, one of the leaders, running out in the front was Liam Broderick, who was somehow keeping up with his comrades’ pace despite being in full-plate armor.
His endurance and general physical prowess were certainly something to behold, but everybody present was either too busy or too bewildered to appreciate it. As efficient as he was given he was top-of-the-line in the Gevilian military, he was still going to become exhausted if he had to maintain this pace for much longer.
“Glen, is that it, over there?”
Liam addressed his snarky but surprisingly competent temporary leader.
He still wasn’t a big fan of Glen, but he was already used to far more assertive authorities, so he could deal with it just fine. Over the past hour or so, Glen had proven to be relatively laid-back, if a bit over-determined. He didn’t seem to take himself too seriously or overreact, and he was pretty lenient.
But a few hours ago, Liam witnessed Glen's extremely bizarre and frankly uncharacteristic reaction when he had asked about the slightly younger man’s gauntlets.
They were obviously intricately enchanted. Any proper warrior would’ve been able to tell that even from a distance, but he had no idea what exactly their function was, and apparently neither did his far more magically adept other new friend.
He wanted to trust Glen was a decent human being, and the mysterious swordsman had certainly grown on him some as they bantered during the quieter points of the operation, but there was still something that Liam found deeply off-putting.
Not just the man’s extremely unique swordsmanship despite not having the body of the master he appeared to be, but also his personality.
As much as Liam wanted to trust Glen as a comrade, he was absolutely certain the man was hiding something, and he couldn’t rest easy until he figured out what it was. If he could just understand the defensive response to the idea of parting with his gauntlets…
“Yeah, that should be it! It matches what that guy said. That spire is pretty unmistakable.”
Glen interrupted Liam’s train of thought by answering the question he forgot he had asked a few seconds prior. It probably took so long for him to respond because he was trying to catch his breath a little.
Glen certainly was not as physically fit as his swordsmanship seemed to imply. The small peculiarities would be excusable if they didn’t keep stacking up.
“Guys, into that alley! Guards ahead!” Xerxes spoke in a volume not loud enough for the incoming guards to hear.
The magician and fencer had been using some sort of divination as they moved to locate incoming guards and prevent the group from being caught in a pincer attack. It caused the route to become a little roundabout, but it was extremely helpful and Xerxes had already cemented themself as an indispensable member of the group, nearly single-handedly allowing the operation to progress.
“Alright, this is it! Everyone in position!”
After a couple more minutes of frantic dashing, the group finally arrived in front of the city hall. Glen shouted for the group of thirty or so inmates to get into the practiced formation.
Originally, they were going to take the mayor out of his office and hold him hostage; that is, until they found out that Xerxes was apparently capable of creating a magical combustion enormous enough to demolish the entire building. The plan was then shifted to the group surrounding the building’s entrance in a defensive formation while a quarter of the men guarded any other possible exits to prevent anyone from escaping.
Glen would negotiate with the guards while Xerxes would hold the entire city hall hostage with the threat of their magic. It certainly wasn’t flawless, but it was the best they had.
A few dozen seconds later, the enormous group of guards that had been chasing them finally caught up and were about to close in and begin combat, only to stop briefly as Glen shouted above the clamor.
“Stop! If you value anyone in this building, STOP!”
The guards certainly had a moment of pause before someone who appeared to be the captain stepped forward.
“What are you threatening?”
There was a smug tone in the man’s voice.
“We have you surrounded. Drop your weapons. Most of them belong to us anyway.”
Glen grinned ominously at the demand.
“If you take one more step forward, this uh… ‘guy’ will blow up the entire city hall. Are you gonna listen to us or sacrifice it?”
He gestured to Xerxes, who was adopting a strange posture and had an extremely calm demeanor.
“As if you’re capable of such a thing! We didn’t keep any gunpowder in that post. Drop your weapons or-”
The captain was interrupted mid-sentence by the sound of Glen snapping his fingers.
On that command, Xerxes mumbled something under their breath and the air began to shift. It was a strange phenomenon. It looked something similar to how the air glistens and shivers in intense heat.
The air between the two groups visibility compressed, bending the light that passed through it ever so slightly.
“Wh-... What did he just-”
Suddenly, the compressed air reached its limit and detonated in a deafening explosion in the space between the guards and escapees. Even Glen stared in awe at the spectacle, obviously not having seen it with his own eyes before.
“Shit! Fine, we concede, but how can we trust you won’t do it anyway?!” The guard captain spat at Glen, he and the guards behind him suddenly racked with fear.
“You’ll have to take our word for it, just like we’re about to have to take yours. No more small talk.”
Glen straightened his posture and prepared to project his voice so all could hear.
“As you can see, whether we’re shapeshifters or not, we’re going to pose a threat to your safety if you won’t cooperate. All we want and all we wanted in the first place was to live here and escape from the unknowably dangerous outside. Let us stay within the safety of your city or we’ll make the city unsafe for all of you.” Glen finished speaking, but Liam spoke up and added an addendum.
“You have our word that we’ll cooperate as well and you’re free to imprison anyone here if we commit any actual crimes, but follow due process. Be civil human beings.” Liam spoke with incredible authority.
The guard captain was clearly still rather reluctant. He had a pained grimace on his face.
“F-Fine. Alright, Fine! You have my word as the highest military authority in Tabre that we’ll let you go free, as long as you return the armor and weapons you stole from the post!”
The guard captain was clearly still very tense.
“Excellent. Everyone, drop your weapons!”
Glen shouted and every one of the former inmates complied. A loud clang echoed through the streets as dozens of swords were simultaneously dropped onto the pavement surrounding the hall.
Everyone present let out a sigh of relief as some of the tension in the air finally let up. The guards side followed suit by sheathing their blades.
“Fuck, that was stressful.” Glen mumbled.
Xerxes snickered at the sudden change in tone before Glen spoke back up.
“Alright, let’s shake on it. I’m happy to discuss placement and what we can do for you in a few minutes. I’m sure you probably have space in the hall. Thanks for not making us do something awful.”
Glen approached the guard captain, who was still clearly rather tense and reluctant to accept the handshake. Glen noticed the hesitancy
“Come on man, I’m not a villain. We just want some basic human decency. In the end, everyone only wants to survive however they can.”
The Guard captain sighed and relented, gripping Glen’s hand and firmly shaking it.
“Alright, alright. So what were you going to propose we do with all these refugees?”
“Ahh, right down to business! Well, I figured-”
Glen had a pleased expression on his face as he prepared to explain his idea for how to distribute the refugees in the barracks and have them aid in city defense, only to be immediately interrupted by a panicked scream from a few meters away.
“CAPTAIN!!! OUTSIDERS! Long-eared ones!”
They were panting between each breath. It sounded like they had absolutely no time to spare.
Everyone froze in place at the shout, all with an expression of fear painted over their face. All except two.
Liam Broderick took a step toward the messenger.
“What… Did you just say?”
The sheer fury behind Liam’s eyes was indescribable.
The only other person who didn’t look afraid was Xerxes, who was characteristically more relaxed than everyone else for a few moments before twisting their face as if the words reached their ears several seconds later.
“Did you just say there are sharp-ears at the gates?”
Liam’s voice sounded raspy, like he was trying to restrain himself so he didn’t blow out his vocal cords.
“Those filthy fucking… Take us there. Now.”
Everyone was now looking at Liam, but he didn’t seem to notice. The gravity in his voice was overwhelming, and nobody could muster the will to speak anything else.
The messenger turned around and started jogging back the way he came. Everyone else followed after him.
The crowd was full of uncertainty and dread. Nobody knew what was about to happen, but all they could do was prepare to fight for their lives.