Tristan saw signs of plunder all around. Broken and cracked boats, stalls that were smashed and their remnants pushed to the sides of streets, and a lack of people. "Where is everyone?" Tristan asked.

The sergeant leading him replied, "Prince Roland's command – all able-bodied men are to be conscripted for the war effort. The women and children were taken inland, to his castle, for safety. The port is only occupied by our troops."

That's not good, Tristan thought. I would wager this conscription was done with violence, and the women and children are being used as hostages to force the men to fight on behalf of a monarch. He reached a hand to his maul that was slung across his back, and spun his essence crucible, pushing the potent magical aura into the weapon as he activated Lucky Instinct. Continuing to spin his crucible, he kept the essence from venting into his body and escaping him by keeping it bound within. Every essence channel was filled with the surging, potent force, and he felt alive and energized.

The walk through the port town was swift, and not two minutes after leaving the docks the group arrived at a large tavern that had been converted to a base of operations. "Wait here," the sergeant ordered. "And if one of you even thinks about going for a weapon – you will fall where you stand." He turned to the door, entered, and the door shut behind him. His fellow soldiers who had been walking around the group of Pathfinders, Obadai, and Tristan spread out and formed a simple circle.

Tristan leaned over to Obadai, "Stand in front of me," he whispered. The man nodded and did as instructed, and Tristan repeated the order to William, but told him to stand behind him instead. When Tristan was fully covered visually by Pathfinders, at the center of the group, he put both of his hands into the gesture for Near Miss. "Tämä ei voi mitenkään osua minuun." (There's no way this is going to hit me).

His whispered spell did not seem to be noticed. The sergeant returned a few seconds later with a surly looking man in tow. He was dressed in heavy plate armor that was dented and rusted, a cigar in the corner of his mouth, and a short sword strapped to his hip. "Right! I heard we got a lord visiting us. Someone who thinks they shouldn't have to help out the war effort."

Tristan whispered, "Katsokaa kasvojani ja ihastukaa viehätysvoimaani." (Look upon my countenance and find yourself enamored with my charm). He exited the circle he had formed around himself. "I am Lord Tristan," he stated as he put his fingers in the appropriate spell gesture next to his eye to finish casting Persuasive Charm.

"What's that?" the man asked pointing to Tristan's hand.

"Ah, a greeting from my country," Tristan replied, not wanting to lob terms such as "Fey Realm" about with someone who did not seem like the sharpest tool in the shed.

The man coughed and spat a chunk of mucus on the ground in front of Tristan. "Well? You have got a group of Pathfinders behind you, but my sergeant says that they are not part of the group that signed up to join us. Which means they are working for our enemies, isn't that right?"

Tristan tried to keep a calm expression, but he felt everyone's eyes on him. He began gesticulating with his hands, speaking as he moved them in order to camouflage a future spell if needed. "Well, I don't know about that. They just paid for passage on my ship, that is all. For all I know they are going to guard your liege's castle. I, meanwhile, have a ship that needs repairs, and would like to spend the night with my feet on solid ground."

The surly soldier sneered, "You think you can order us around because you're some foreign lord?"

"No, not at all," Tristan replied. "I have money to pay for repairs, and I'm sure a fee could be paid to ensure my ships are not searched, and I am allowed to be on my way. Every man has a price, does he not?"

"You fucker," the man crushed the cigar in his hand and his hand went to the pommel of his sword. His soldiers replicated the gesture, and Tristan saw movement on the roofs. Archers getting into position. The Pathfinders behind him were slowly putting hands towards weapons as well. "You think that you can waltz in here, pay some money, and that'll be it? I'm not like my boss who let that wreck of a ship off with a confiscation and a warning. That man lost his post and is digging trenches. You will surrender yourselves, now."

Well, so much for diplomacy, Tristan thought as he gripped the hem of his cloak with one hand. Pouring his essence into it, he felt the power within him drain rapidly to less than half. Activating Thrice Command stored in the object, he shouted out. "Drop weapons! Kneel!" His ire was focused on the soldiers, and every one of them dropped their weapons before falling to their knees, looking at each other with fear, curiosity, or confusion as they were forced to act against their will.

The Pathfinders sprang into action; tackling soldiers and holding them up in a circle around the whole group; a wall of living shields to prevent the archers from shooting with abandon. Tristan grabbed the lieutenant and dragged him to the center of the circle before the spell wore off. "Obadai," he stated, "What do you suggest we do given this predicament?"

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"Take the port," he advised as he began making a complicated series of movement with his hands. Then, he began speaking in Heaven's Voice, and Tristan focused elsewhere, as he observed the archers re-equipping their weapons and standing up.

The Pathfinders glanced at each other, and then to Tristan. One of them spoke up, "Lord Tristan? Orders?"

"We take the port!" Tristan replied as he pulled the maul from his back and channeled essence into his armor, forming the carapace-like shell of draconic-themed metal around himself. Using his strength alone, he twisted and snapped both of the lieutenant's arms, and the man passed out from the pain. "Felicity! Archers!"

She flew off with a high-pitched battle cry and began harassing the bowmen who took aim and started to fire. Tristan grabbed Obadai and pulled him close to the circle of Pathfinders, and the hail of arrows either missed everyone or thudded into the captive troops used as a human shield. Felicity is going to deal with the archers, he thought, or at least distract or blind them. As if responding to his thoughts, he heard a scream of pain and a man yelled out, "My eyes!" as he dropped a bow that went clattering to the ground.

We have the ground troops. He pointed to the building, "Everyone, inside. Clear the building, tie up our prisoners."

The Pathfinders went inside, and Obadai finished his spell – a thrumming, gold barrier popped into place over all of the Pathfinders, himself, and Tristan. The man visibly sagged as he wilted slightly in Tristan's grip. "That…was a seventh order…barrier. It will…stop incoming harm."

Tristan handed Obadai off to a Pathfinder who took him inside. Once all of the Pathfinders were in the building, Tristan turned to scan the area. The archers were all screaming and holding their faces as Felicity flew back to land atop his head. "Oh, neat barrier!" she said as she balanced atop the slightly squishy, encompassing bubble. "What's the plan?"

"We make a lot of noise and make them come to us. I use Blended Body and hide nearby. When they come to take the building, we strike from behind."

Felicity grinned and shook her head, the two bangles jingling slightly on her antlers. "I've got that." She cleared her throat, dropped her invisibility, and her voice became that of the lieutenant's – a perfect mimicry. "All soldiers to headquarters! We're under attack!" The voice boomed out much louder than it should have been, and Tristan had to cover his ears as she activated the Resonance Bangle and the stored spell within, Discordant Melody. The loud, clattering, banging noise grated on Tristan's ears and he staggered over to the building nearby. "Oh, sorry!" Felicity said with genuine concern as her voice dropped to her own.

"I'm fine," Tristan muttered. He touched his index finger and thumb together, holding up the middle finger straight up, pulling the ring finger into the thumb, and curling his pinky into his palm. "Verhoa minut hunnulla, joka maastouttaa minut." (Manifest a shroud around my form that will blend me into the surroundings). His body became transparent, and the barrier surrounding him did as well.

Felicity flew off, "I'll get archers as they come!" she shouted as she ascended into the skies and became invisible once more. "Oh! They're coming!" she yelled down to him. "Thirty-no, forty!"

Tristan hefted the maul and waited with bated breath. As the first of the soldiers came into sight, he still held his position. They closed towards the door, and began yelling and shouting. The prisoners inside held by Obadai and the Pathfinders were also screaming for help. Only when they began to beat on the door to try and get in did Tristan make his move. Stepping behind them, and very difficult to see thanks to his Blended Body spell, he swung large, overhand smashes onto the shoulders of one of the men on the side of the formation.

He screamed and collapsed, eliciting reactions from the group of soldiers. They turned in place – some of them – and began looking for a foe. One of them knelt next to their injured ally, and Tristan crushed that man's knee with the maul, sending him down screaming.

"Something is here!"

"I see a shimmer! There!"

"Essence Weaving?"

The mean took haphazard swings towards Tristan's hidden form, and he easily deflected with the haft of the maul before performing vicious counterstrikes that crippled men. Well, temporarily cripped them. He was intentionally being non-lethal with his blows, only breaking joints which would heal given enough time. But those broken limbs took men out of the fight, nonetheless.

"Archers!" one of them shouted, pointing to Tristan who had backed up a few paces from the building. "Fire at that weird shimmer!"

Tristan glanced at the rooftops and saw Felicity attacking one of the bowmen far off, but others took aim and shot. Trust Near Miss, he thought as he stepped forward. The arrows fell around him, and one found its mark. But it stopped an inch from his shoulder as Obadai's barrier caught it. And, Tristan was sure his armor would have prevented it from dealing any damage – but the fact that essence-fueled shielding was protecting him brought a measure of confidence.

Re-engaging with the first group of soldiers, he kept swinging and broke joints. Shoulders, knees, elbows, and in one unfortunate mis-hit, he broke one man's thigh. In ten seconds the small skirmish was over. Tristan was heaving with exertion and felt his essence crucible getting emptier. "Felicity? Kuinka monta muuta on tulossa?" (Felicity? How many more are coming?).

"Kaksi kahdenkymmenen hengen ryhmää!" (Two groups of twenty!)

Tristan went to the doors and shouted, "I have more to take prisoner! Get them quickly!" He had to let Blended Body fade, as he needed to reserve essence to keep his armor active. But he felt himself growing more tired, and he had to rest by leaning against the building. I need to remember…to exercise…and not just surge my essence crucible. The days on the boat, of travel, and in the city had depleted some of his stamina reserves as he had been somewhat sedentary. Two more groups. Let's see if we can get them to surrender.

The door opened, and some Pathfinders came out, grabbed the still screaming, unconscious, or whimpering soldiers into the building as hostages. "Obadai, running low on essence out here!"

"Same here," Obadai's voice came from within. "How many more are coming?"

"Forty."

"Could try negotiating," William said as he poked his head out of the building's door. "And we haven't seen the Pathfinders that were signed up with the Founts, yet." As if on cue, the group of Pathfinders that had split off earlier came into view from an alley and began rushing towards the building. "Well, shit."

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