Announcement

**Watch Ryder** · 02-10-2014, 11:36 PM

It had taken Reyborse two days to get from the mountain opening to the tracked Underways deep underground. By then they were all hungry and their water supplies were low. Only he and a couple of others had torches which revealed a featureless and endless blackness they moved in towards. A partially cleared cave-in was the marker-zone Reyborse was looking for and he managed to get his force through without too much hassle.

On the other side was the beginning of a railway track. It was also the point where Reyborse knew they had a good chance of retrieval.

He set off his Sleuth-Beacon; a pre-programmed transmission device designed for underground retrieval. It sent a radiating signal towards the Saken Base Rock miles away to the east. It first struck an outrock-relay, then another and another before finally reaching Base Rock Gammertron.

For four hours they waited and the grumbling from Taylor was beginning to return. Two of the torches were almost out of batteries and the dim glow from the beacon was not much better.

�What are we waiting for?� He complained and whinged.

Reyborse was almost ready to cut him down when a distant whine became noticeable.

The noise of a large machine soon reached them then a light appeared as a sled-train full of Craiven and Sindle troopers arrived. A fellow Isier that Reyborse knew led the force; Weel Kandas. Upon the locomotive grinding to a halt the officer jumped down to face his equal.
�Weel! It's good to see you.� Reyborse spoke in Saken to him.

�Greetings likewise Samze! This is unexpected. Do you have the Artifacts?� He asked back.

Reyborse hesitated not wanting to speak of his failure.

�Where's Zeneth and Shieda?� Kandas said expectantly looking warily at the armed men and woman behind him.

�Both slain. The mission was a failure, the town was under Soliter support from the mountains. I must deliver a report about the whole mess.�

�Soliters!? Are you sure?� Kandas said stunned.

�Yes, with a sky-carriage and their own private army. I barely got away with these ones you see now.� Reyborse said gesturing accidentally with his wrecked arm and he seethed in pain.

�Climb aboard Samze, I must tell you though, there is a new Lord now posted to Gammertron. It won't be easy on you if there's a trial.�

�What do you mean? What happened to Iscaron?� Reyborse said with a start. Iscaron was a familiar Saken commander, one he would be more than comfortable delivering his report to.

�He's been summoned to Eurasia to fight with the Glorian. We have Lord Juberon from the Southern Fringe commanding things here now.� Kandas said with shades of the negative.

�Juberon?! He isn't a commander-class of Saken is he?�

�He is now, promoted thanks to the war-effort.�

�Dusted tails! He's normally in charge of punishments and playing god with the Negro-slaves and Kaslar!� Reyborse exclaimed. He was was rattled at the news, Juberon was infamous as a brute and bully down in the Base Rocks of Africa.

�Like I said Samze, it won't be easy on you if you climb aboard and return with us...� Kandas said.

Kandas was half tempted to have his Craiven re-supply Reyborse from the Sled Train's supply catche then return empty-handed to the Base-Rock.

This would raise suspicions though. The Sleuth-Beacon Reyborse had triggered was signature-marked to him and was already logged-in at the Base Rock and would surely be questioned. The Craiven that were with him were loyal-enough but the Sindle auxillaries were a new platoon from the east. No doubt a handful would be hoping to advance in rank by snitching on him.

Reyborse read his mind.

�We both know it will cause grief if we play at telling tales to a Lord.�

�Climb aboard then before I change my mind.� Kandas said.

�Before I do, watch over me, there's a couple of lone wolves among these men I've brought. Neither are marked.� The Isier cautioned.

�Which ones?� Asked Kandas and Reborse told him as well as those that were to be trusted. After some orders were passed to the Craiven and Sindle troopers they trained their weapons on them.

�Don't make a move or they'll cut you down.� Reyborse warned. �Now remove your weapons and pass them to me. We're going for a ride.�

�What's going on? I thought you said you were getting help?� Asked Taylor, one of the rebellious men, he was one who had not been marked and still objected to things.

�This is help, we're going to my base where we can fight on against those that stand in our way. There's no choice here.�

�Where is it?�

�Near to the eastern ocean.� He answered.

�**** that.� Taylor said turning around and began walking away.

Kandas looked with a sideways glance to Reyborse for a response, but he said nothing. Instead he turned to the others, one of the other doubtfuls made a hesitant move.

�Are you sure you want to follow him?� Reyborse said with a sadistic grin.

Biting his lip the man stepped back and handed over his weapon which was taken by a Sindle, then the others did likewise.

Taylor was almost at the barrier-point when Reyborse pointed to Taylor and nodded at Kandas.

�Hey Taylor!� Reyborse shouted immediately which was followed by a roar of blasting weapons that were deafening in the confines of the tunnel.

Taylor had half-turned when bullets from obscure and strange calibers tore into him, tossing him across the barrier in a grotesque fashion.

�All aboard!� Reyborse shouted as the Saken on board made a space on the sled. It would be a cramped ride but Reyborse faced his fate knowing that no matter what happened, he'd have have a chance to make things right. The failure at Tonswater had to be avenged.

**Watch Ryder** · 02-10-2014, 11:37 PM

Chapter 1

Mountain Meeting

A year and a half later

An afternoon-sun melted down on the snowy mountainside. It was the end of spring and like many summers previous the snow was reluctant to fully-melt at the high-elevations of the Rocky Mountains. A wending highway cut across the spine of the Medicine Bow range like a lazy-serpent.

Twenty armed-men from the Mountain Hold waited at a certain point. Above them, adjacent to the highway an observation tower that looked west down the highway. The look-out signalled down to them.

As promised the convoy from the ISTAR faction was on time, it could be seen from miles away up there. Nuge, the peered back to it, trying to estimate the convoy's speed of travel.

The east-western highway ran past part the Mountain Hold road. Formerly this had been impassable due to felled trees. Indeed nearly two years had passed since Leyson had felled the trees blocking it off. Now it was clear again for the dwellers of the Hold to come and go as they pleased. A great gate of logs and beams was now in it's place, set back from the highway, allowing easier access, providing it was not snowed-in at winter of course. Two hotchkiss machine guns manned by Range-Warriors projected out. The emplacements were part of the gateway and built up on the walls, there were embrasures of wood and steel projecting out from a pair of elevated towers. They were like wooden pillboxes. A deadly pair of defenses many hoped not to need.

To Mike Oakley the arrival of an outsider faction meant their time of near-absolute isolation from the world was at an end. First chaos had come to Terra, then the frantic actions of defense followed by a settling of the ways. Now they were at the settling phase, what this would go into next was anyones guess.

Seemingly reading his mind Alexander Barber went over from the tower towards the leader.

“I guess this means we're part of the Republic now Mike?” Barber said to him, referencing the ISTAR republic many now followed in the Mid and Pacific North West.

Like Oakley, Barber was tall but was a broader and more powerful build, like that of a panther. He was younger, the lead warrior of the Hold's defense forces and had great respect for his actions in combat. Some had said that Barber would make a fine leader one day but leadership was not something that appealed to him. Oakley had the mantle of rule, not he and unless it was thrust upon him he was just a Range-Warrior.

“We're our own Republic Alex. This place will always be the Mountain Hold, even if it has ISTAR territory around it.” Oakley said. “Now remember, if there's any shooting we move back to the gateway into cover and the let the hotchkiss-crews do the rest.”

“It won't come to that Mike, the Lore-Saints are good folks, men of
their word. Spencer did well setting it up on the secure-Nex without prying eyes learning of it.”

“We'll let soon see.” Said Oakley, checking his ancient revolver out of habit. “I'll wring his neck afterwards if it goes wrong.” He jested. Satisfied he re-holstered it.

Mike Oakley; leader of the Mountain Hold felt the ache of old wounds nag occasionally yet stood tall and ready. One and a half years on from the Battle of Tonswater he'd ushered in a frugal flowering of cautious expansion in his territory. Keeping on good terms with the town of Tonswater to the east had been no problem. The victory his people had helped to win had been a double-edged sword though. While it had stymied raider-activity and secured their lands from harm, great attention and renown had spread across ISTAR lands. Tonswater had at least stopped making overtures for colonizing the mountains but now came the Lore-Saints.

Duke Alexis Wynter of the ISTAR Lore-Saints now approached with his vanguard of humvee's. Some called him 'The Lorien' or 'Lore-Master' due to his supposed illuminated knowledge. Others of the raider persuasion howled and raved of him with the less savory title of 'The Blood Duke.'

Oakely had initially declined Oscilon's overtures to open a channel to the mystery faction, yet many others of his faction persuaded him to hear out the mystery faction.

Be that as it may, Oakley was wary, distant factions he preferred to be kept at a distance. He also typically disliked royal titles and fancy names. Such things did not cut much ice with him, for a man earned his place in the world with a firm will and a driving heart, not a landed-title.

The convoy of three bearing the one who was called 'Lorien' now stopped in front of them. The Duke's colors, in muted green ,blue and grey tones were on the sides of the first vehicle. Setting it apart from the other two that black and white, along with green also. Barber thought it was a bad tactical move highlighting a vehicle from the pack.

Duke Wynter stepped out alone and faced Oakley's Rangers without a shred of intimidation. He was of medium height, fair eyed with sandy-brown hair. A fiercely intense demenor matching Oakley's own marked him apart from most men. He showed no fear and stepped forward so he was level with the hood of the Humvee. More men now exited their humvees. Unlike Oakley and his followers the Duke did not wear camoflage or outdoors clothing but a dark-blue uniform. The ones who now assembled behind him could be seen in a similar uniform but some wore a beige-brown and the remainder a charcoal black. They wore no body-armor, and presented no intentions of an offensive nature. Aside from shouldered carbines the others looked friendly enough.

The Duke's advisor Eric Meander moved around to be near him. Meander was Greek-American with a darker complexion than most of the others. Owl-brown eyes and his unassuming demenour missed few details. As a former intelligence captain he could be trusted with the darkest and deepest of secrets.

The Duke was unclipped his belted and holstered pistol, and passed it to Meander who took it wordlessly. He scanning their faces, taking in their measure.

“So these are the famed Oakley's Rangers.” Wynter mused cooly to himself and those closest.

Most of the Rangers were bearded and grizzled, others less so. All had the semi-barbaric looks of those who were lean, sharp and hardened from years of wilderness living. The Lore-Saint fighters tended to be more the homesteaders and townsman than raw survivalists and viewed the rangers warily. A pantherish-looking one stood out among them along with a few others that clustered close to the oldest one of them.

Oakley boldly stepped forward from his own ranks and did the same ritual, passing his .22 revolver to Barber. Both leaders faced-off.

“Duke Alexis Nikolai Wynter of the Lore-Saints and the Northern League.” Wynter said declaring himself fully.

“Mike Oakley of the Mountain Hold. Welcome to the White Mountains .” Oakley responded gruffly.

A man was near to the Duke and he was no doubt his advisor, like Barber was to Oakley. He now spoke in the Dukes ear. Who nodded then shook his head. Somehow Oakley instinctively knew the advisor was wanting the Duke to do something against his nature.

Perhaps overly-cautioning him? The outsiders looked very clean and somewhat professional, almost too smart for his bones to be comfortable with.

Seizing the moment Oakley spoke first.

“As our guests would you wish to be hosted inside our Hold, it's better than standing exposed on the highway. Our venison is fresh and the mead is fine and waiting.”

“Well met! Against that I cannot argue.” The Duke responded heartily and they approached one another to close the distance. They began talking back and forth.

Konrad leaned in to Barber. “Mike's changed his tune.” He said quietly.

“Leaders and their whimsical ways.” He responded.

The two groups walked off the highway and into the private road that lead to the gateway. Wynter left three of his men with the vehicles to park the transport outside the gateway and the others unloaded their carbines at Oakley's request. Then they were shown into the depths of the Mountain Hold.

**Watch Ryder** · 02-10-2014, 11:38 PM

The two groups walked off the highway and into the private road that led to the gateway. Wynter left three of his men with the vehicles to park the transport outside the gateway and the others unloaded their carbines at Oakley's request. Then they were shown into the depths of the Mountain Hold.

*

A vast cabin reminiscent of a Viking long-hall, functioned as a venue for the Lore-Saints. Recently built it was lit by two roaring wood-burners making it a welcoming place, well served to relax the visitors. Food was prepared and mead served.

Such things were far from what the Duke was expecting, he'd heard tales of Oakley's faction being feral barbarians; crazed by their isolation and as predatory as the raiders they'd defeated. The Mountain Hold was far from such gossip and nonsense. The people were healthy, family-orientated and a true thriving mountain community.

After the dinner was over both leaders let the more routine conversations fade as the more serious faction-talk got underway.
“We now must move forward, the time for expansion is now Mike. It will be dangerous but word has reached me that your faction can make the impossible happen.” The Duke said.

“This is moving forward for us, slow but sure like our tree's.” Oakley said throwing back the suggestion and remaining aloof.

“Don't be so humble Mike. We all heard about the raider-siege. We all expected Tonswater to fall and Stellfeld to follow. I was on the verge of being ready to mobilize a frontier force to wage guerrilla warfare. Then we heard you and the town decimated Charrak and his army.”

“It was mostly the town defenders and tower that did the real fighting and dying. My folks provided some support at the end was all.” Mike said downplaying he and his rangers role in the fight. By Wynter's frown he could tell that the ploy wasn't working though.

“Alright I'll cut to the chase. The Battle for Tonswater has put you on the map whether you like it or not. We hear on the Nex-traffic that raiders are running scared, not even daring to move north of Colorado.”

“You cutting to the chase Alexis?” Oakley said with a joking grin.

“Hear me out now Mike. The ISTAR, partly thanks to you and Tonswater have held the line, but we need to do more than that. We have to establish an outer-frontier forward of this one. Now the way I see things the raiders are no longer on the prowl like before. They stay in their cities and the Raiderlands to the south, some will die off within a year or so more as their resources run thin. The remainder that are less harsh will be like chieftans and warlords, we can deal with them one at time in later years. In the meantime we can see to the the upper-mid-west and help bring them into the ISTAR fold...” Oakley listened and his fears of imperialist overtures from the Duke rang like bells.

“This is not wisdom, you risk over-extending the natural borders, this mountain range is our rock. Also I don't like the sound of 'bring them into the fold' either.”

“I hear you on that, just think now. We keep the core of ISTAR territories close to hand. The defensive border of the ISTAR can extend to your Mountain Hold lands, then outside of that to the east up to the Great Lakes of Minnesota we have an outer territory. Think of it as a satellite of the Northern League. A bread-basket of agriculture. A distant cousin for trade. I have no intentions to force anyone to join us under duress.”

Oakley nodded. He was open to alliances, but the devil was in the details.

“I wish you luck Alexis, but here at my Mountain Hold I don't know what we can do for you? My people only number perhaps one hundred. We are self-sufficient, this last winter we got through with only a few minor problems. I don't want to be a part of any big imperial scheme, the last time we had that it didn't go too well for the country, even before the Blue Sun hit.”

“It's nothing like that, I give you my word of honor. All I want for the ISTAR is a solid front for our people so we can get back on our feet and be safe.”

“Ok so what do you want?”

“The Independent States And Republic stands for what the country didn't have before the fall. You consider yourself ISTAR don't you Mike?”

“I consider this land the Mountain Hold and it holds true to the ways of the Republic. If this is the ISTAR to you that is not my concern.”

“Join us.” He said with hand extended “Not like a union or federation where we're stitched together like entangled fools, or a mob-democracy but as a league. A Northern League making up all of the ISTAR territories. From the Pacific North West across to the slopes of Montana then down to the Tonswater border. We'll still be ISTAR individually but in a cohesive, greater territory. Presenting a solid front to others.” Wynter said with an inspired wordage and voice.

Oakley hesitated, he'd have to talk such a thing through with his people first. As he brooded Wynter added needle-words.

“The Talon-Wolves have already agreed brother, as have the Kinslanders. They have joined together to form the Kinwolves, they're with us now.”

“The Kinwolfs are hardcore racialists Alexis and the Talon-Wolves are fanatically spartan bearing no tolerances.”

“Since their joining and marriage of a Kinslander daughter to a Talon-Wolf leader their ways are more humane. At least given the times we live.”

“Well I'm not sure of them, they dare to dream supremacy too much for many of my folk's liking. A wolf should be kept in the wilderness, not brought into the hearthroom. Indeed I have enough quarrels at the Hold between the Heathen here and those who are not...” Oakley said letting his words tail off.

“The Kinwolves are kept on a tight chain and they've held the line well in eastern Oregon and upper-Idaho earning my trust. You were not the only faction fighting raiders you know.” Oakely look mildly surprized, figuring them to be strictly partisan. “Yes they too have won victories. Besides which...” Wynter paused before smiling. “Since you decimated Charrak's war-tribe there are similar words spoken of your faction.”

“What words?!” Said Oakley intrigued to hear what his enemies spoke of him.

“Raider's we've captured talk of you as the 'Blood-Hawk'. A mountain king with blue-eyed devils capable of vanquishing them with an airborne war-machine. There's a heavy price on your head, your bodyguards and that of Lewis Connarsby that Sherrif down in Tonswater. I think even the Kinswolves don't have that hanging over them.” Wynter spoke with a banterish laugh that was joined with by Lore-Saint and Ranger alike.

Mike chuckled and smiled. Deep down he knew, no matter how hard he tried, it was hard to keep a lid on their mountain flying machine, especially in a largely grounded world.

“My eyes were green last time I checked! It's strange how rumors take hold.” He retorted. “Those raiders have really gone soft if they fear-up so easily.”

“Of course, the raiders are no match for the northern factions such as we.” Wynter said haughtily.

“There are those that call you the 'Blood-Duke' you know?” Oakley spoke lightly in response. The Duke did not seem too bothered but Meander raised his eyebrows, wondering what next in the game of brinkmanship between the two.

“Yes, yes, I've heard it all already. My people and I supposedly dance about drinking the blood of my slain enemies in dark caves underneath the Lore Temples in Utah.” The Duke said rolling his eyes. “All factions have their detractors, for better or worse.”

“Alright let me understand things first.” Oakley said shifting the subject away. “Then I'll give you my answer.” Oakley, raised his hands in neutrality. “Why join you when the ISTAR factions can independently thrive.”

“Two reasons. Firstly for trade with the other parts of the landmass. The Northern League can pull in resources of oil, timber, crafts with the other factions.” Mike nodded at this, he had to admit that part made sense.

“And the other reason. Other factions to the eastern parts of the country and doing the same as what I propose. The league will give us what AmEliasa never had - A genuine citizen-army that can fend for itself. If we don't have a Northern League someone else will do what Charrak did and with a lot more than armored-cars and foot-soldiers.”

Oakley took in a deep breath, his fear of a militarized force seemed ever-present. The Duke seemed genuine but roads of betterment and glory could easily lead to tyranny.

“We already have citizen armies, you have yours, I have mine plus the other ISTAR factions have their's also.” Oakley responded.

“I don't mean to sound blunt Mike but things have been going on in Eurasia. There's a big faction forming there, like an empire that will soon be as big as the Asian Empire of Jade.”

“That's interesting.” Said Oakley, remembering his distant vision so long ago.

“I've a few contacts on the Nexus that keep me informed and the word is this new faction has been expanding and expanding, building a war-machine. Until last month they were getting a few of our fellow Europan's, 'Rabians not fighting the Blue Star and even a few Africans to join. Immigration controls were thrown up. No-one knows how they are doing it. Anyone who joins them doesn't get to leave. They exercise absolute control. And they came out of nowhere north-east of the Caspian Sea, some are saying it's fulfillment of the destruction-prophecy.”

“Now do you remember the Valley-Forge prediction they taught at school?”

“I do.” Said Oakley.

“Well If they move east or west we need to be ready in case it becomes so. It could be five, maybe ten years down the line but for the long term we must form a league.”

“I hear that, but Europa's still on it's feet though Alexis, a lot can happen then and in the far-east the Ch'in family have overthrown the Mao government.”

“Yeah they've re-declared the long-lost Jade emperor found. I'm all for traditionalist ways but the Jade folks aren't going to cut it against this new faction.”

“What's this new danger-faction called anyway?”

“No-ones sure, it's like how our ISTAR has an acroynm standing for something, they have one similar. I think it's the 'yunnes', or 'oonus'?” The Duke turned to Elias Meander with a puzzled look, searching for a clarification.

Before Meander could refer to his notes a cut-glass male voice spoke.

“The UNAS.” Said the man in a distinct accent. He was stood off to one side from Oakley and with him was a woman of haunting beauty.“It stands for the Union of Nations and Sectors.”

“That's it! How do you know such a thing, being up here and so far removed?” The Duke said warily with a grin.

“I have my agents and means Alexis.”

“This is Oscilon, my adviser on all things far-off and technical.” Oakley said with a smile.

“I see that. Now if the UNAS move east it will be bloody war with the Jade folks and if they win there it's a backdoor into Alaska. If they move west it's our folks in Europa. We've got time to prepare and that means the Northern League has to be ready. Either way they move.”

“They could move south.” Barber said frankly.

“They could, if it was worth their while, but apparently they are trading with the 'Rabians, refined fuel-oil for parts, mercenary troops and so on. They won't want the south though, it's a deathtrap of desert Kaslar armies and strife best left alone. It shames me to say it my gut feeling is they'll got for the soft-targets of either the east of the west in the northern hemisphere.”

“Now.” He said decisively. “What say you Mike Oakley? Will you join the Northern League and battle against any Valley Forge? I want the greatness of our land back, our republic to be realized and for us to be a part of that city in the sky?”

“I'm open to it.” Said Oakley harshly. “But why are you so keen to make big plans with my tiny faction of one-hundred.”

“Artifacts.” He said with a knowing smile before looking to Oscilon.

“Isn't that right Oscilon of House Soliter.” He said with a smile.

Artifacts and House Soliter were faction-secrets and surely only their sworn enemies the Saken could know. Oakley tensed and had a hand to his Ruger revolver, ready for foulplay. Several Rangers looked wary now, themselves almost readying weapons in an echo of Oakley's mind.

Before anything terrible could transpire Oscilon shouted out.

“It's ok Mike! They are not Saken! He is a Watcher. I should of told you sooner but until...”

“Oscilon it's ok! Let me explain.” Wynter said.

“I was born into a Lore-Saint family, I have no accent unlike your Navigator, but I am part of The Soliters through an ancient lineage and calling. I am Watcher Lorien by this lineage of spirit but not the flesh. 'The Lorien' title disguises my calling in plain-sight. These nine men with me are my hand-picked trusted Seeker bodyguard. Outside of my family and Seekers my faction are unaware of the pretense. I am truly Alexis Wynter as-named by my birth parents, elected to Duke following the defense of the Lore-Saint capital in the Blue Sun chaos. But the Lorien is my true calling. Oscilon was not to know until I came into his sight.”

Oakely breathed deeply and let the hammer back down as he brought his hand back up onto the table. “Why the pretence, why not tell me sooner when we were on the highway.”

“You don't enter a hallway to dance, unless those within are found trustworthy...” He said, invoking a Soliter saying.

Both Oscilon and the Duke laughed at this and the mood lightened again.

“Definately House Soliter” Danley said laughing. Oakley and the Rangers laughed also, still half-amazed at the revelation.

The Lorien extended his hand, Oakely looked first to his Rangers who nodded in agreement then the Mountain leader shook it with vigor.

The Northern Alliance was complete.

**Watch Ryder** · 02-10-2014, 11:38 PM

Chapter 3

Ruben Cohen breathed in the air of the coming summer as a new day in Stellfeld began. The day-traders were setting out stalls to entice any visitors and the distant roar of a Northern League tanker was approaching. In his comfortable home it felt a world away from the events of earlier times.

Looking down from the second floor he passed his gaze south, taking in the outer perimiter, the long straight road and the hilly boundaries. Beyond them was Tonswater, the town that had left an indelible imprint on him. Not even death could swerve it he felt. For it had been a long recovery from his grevious wounds at the Battle of Tonswater. It was colder but a bright day, one full of clashing conflict as the siege reached it's deadly climax.

He remembered vividly seeing the northern redoubts of Tonswaters being overwhelmed by the strange super-animals. His vehicle was a lone pick-up with only himself and a Lore-Saint mercenary. Part of him, his calculating side of caution and analysis, whispered to wait for the slow-moving convoy to catch up. Another part of him, from where he could not tell, shouted 'Attack!' and attack he did. The lucid moments revisted him like a vision.

He'd sent the diesel-engined machine ramming two of the over-dog things clean apart and a third went sideways. This took the initiative away from the beasts as he slammed on the brakes to reverse his way through.

“We should stop and...” The Lore-Saint man had said.

“If we stop to shoot we're dead!” Cohen had hissed. He had been right, they were all over the vehicle seeking ways in. He'd engaged reverse and ploughed over another two and less than a dozen remained. He stopped again but as he did one of the creatures leapt on the hood obscuring his view. He shook left and right with the wheel but somehow it had either caught or locked it's claws on.

His mercenary let off shot after shot through the windshield, but the thing had a death grip and clung on another two sprang on board.

More firing, more swerving, then they were off the road and rolling down into a ditch. When the world stopped turning around it went dark, not from him passing out, but from the shear number of Night Crawlers blocking out the light. Grunts and snarls were in his ears along gunshots from the Lore-Saint who fired off a few more times, then somehow the beastlings dragged him out through the passenger window horribly. They were coming for him next but it was too tight and confined in the cab to bring his battle-rifle to bear so he had to make do with his trusty .45 Springfield Defender. His vision was swimming thanks to the concussion from the crash but he remembered stopping them getting in through the passenger side. Then the sunroof burst in and one got in amongst him.

His body-armor alone had spared his body from being gouged apart. Yet his arms and face were not spared the talons of the fearsome Night Crawlers. He lost an eye as he blasted away with his side-arm. Then in it's death throes his head was dashed hard against the 'A' pillar and he lost conciousness.

He was saved and recovered back to Stellfeld, the siege was lifted and Tonswater had it's victory.

Cohen had not returned to Tonswater since that day, he was semi-retired as a trader now and saw little desire to revist the past. Three ragged scars down his head and cheek and an eye-patch covered the empty-hole. He could barely lift his right arm fully and the cold aggravated it even further. Now his only son carried on in his footsteps and was rarely home. His wife had long since passed away and Cohen was given to great moods of melancoly.

He was about to move away from the window to resume the chores of the day when he noticed a humvee approaching the outer-gates. It was dark blue and green and he saw it had the proud yet vibrant sigil of the newly formed Northern League.

The former trader had mixed feelings and regarded the newcomers with a critical eye. They passed through the outer gates and Cohen could tell this was no casual visit, a VIP presence seemed to be about them for the mercenary Lore-Saints were saluting and radioing ahead.

Elias Hogarth, the garrison commander had gone to the inner-gateway area and leaned in to speak with the passenger in the vehicle. He nodded a few times and pointed towards Cohen's house. Inside the trader made pot of coffee ready and about three minutes later there was a knock at the door. It was Duke Wynter, Connarsby and a man he'd not seen before. All were unarmed.

“Trader Cohen, I am Duke Alexis Wynter of the Northern League.” The leader said extending his hand. “I ask for a few minutes of your time.”

“Coffee's already on the boil, come on in, make yourselves at home.” Cohen said indifferently. There were few things that phased him and Duke Wynter was not one of them. The unknown one he did not recognize and for some reason aroused his curiousity.

“This is Sheriff Connarsby who you've already met and this is...” The Duke began.

“Mike Oakley of the Hold?” Cohen said speculatively and the man's green eyes flashed in surprise.

“Yes! Have you two already met?” Wynter said inquisitively.

“No but these are not casual times and it is wisdom for the leader of a rising faction such as yourself to have him as an ally.”

Wynter nodded at the strange response. Cohen was indeed a sharp man with a sharper intellect so he didn't question the eccentic. Behind his passive and reserved ways was a brainbox of dynamic energy.

“I'll cut to the chase Ruben.” Wynter said plainly. “As I'm sure you've heard the ISTAR factions are uniting; The Lore-Saints I already command, Mike Oakley's Rangers from the Hold plus a few other minor factions north-west of here.”

“We've already heard.” Cohen responded reservedly. “You have a small empire stretching from the Pacific North-West down through Wyoming and up to Tonswater and here. Moving north-eastwards you have a safe or mostly safe road network going through eastern Montana the Dakota's and to Minnesota to the deepwater port of Duluuth.” Cohen said smoothly and without emotion. “And the answer is no.”

“I haven't even asked anything yet!” Wynter said with a surprised look to his eyes.

“You're reason for being here is to entice my small town to join the Northern League. Although this place is a small town our trade-links, in one form or another, go all the way to the eastern-seaboard. I hold a great influence on the town council for making such a thing happen.”

There was a small silence and Oakley broke it.

“I respect a man who wishes to keep his independence, but this isn't the main reason we came.” He said.

Cohen's eyebrows raised somewhat and he moved to pour the coffee.

**Watch Ryder** · 02-10-2014, 11:39 PM

*

“You're a hero for what you did at that redoubt Rube!” Connarsby beamed. They'd all sat down at his lounge area. “You saved many lives with what you did! Not just at the redoubt either, I just want to personally thank you for that.”

“I did what I had to, I could of held back but forces of the beyond pushed me onwards.” Cohen said his mind fluttering over the memory again.

“I hear that.” Said Oakley.

“The main reason Alexis is here is for advice. He's not after domination of everyone under a Northern League banner. Nobodies being forced to join either, my town of Tonswater isn't and nor would Stellfeld be.” Connarsby said.
Cohen looked at the Duke who looked back evenly, he seemed a fair-minded type, if a little too much Germanic for his taste.

“I'm listening Duke.” The trader said.

The Duke spoke. “Before fiat currency took over, the world had a balance of gold-backed currency. I want us to return to that system.”

“So you wish to move the league from barter-trade to a precious metals-backed currency?” Cohen quizzed.

“Yes, but to do that we need a large supply of gold that's decentralized across the free realms. One that can encompass the Northern League and any factions that wish to trade with us like the Lakesiders to the east and the Westsiders in Oregon and Norcal. Eventually I hope we can start trading with the outside lands like Europa and Asia.”

The host made a face and looked high up into the air. Within cerebral variables, nuances and logic went into overdrive yet without all seemed normal.

“It's worth a shot Rube.” Connarsby said. “If we keep on with the barter system it's only a matter of time before someone who is sitting on a gold-horde starts churning out raw bullion. Or worse still it get's seized and falls into the wrong hands.”

“It would be better if it's in our neck of the woods. That way if a raider get's a hold on some who knows what force they could muster.”

Cohen brooded on a while longer then answered.

“Stellfeld doesn't have a vast supply, modest is what I'd call it. A majority of the gold and silver bullion is housed east of the Mississippi.” The trader said slyly.

“Agreed. We just don't know where exactly.” Said Wynter. “Our research has come up with two possible areas that could be the spot. One is at Fort Knox, which is still garrisoned by a generals army. The other is in the form of city wealth from areas in New York State, New Jersey, Manhatten Island and so on. Since those cities are mostly no-go areas that gives us a problem.”

“Right.” Said Cohen being evasive. Wynter filled the silence.

“We don't want to take it by force, we want to trade for it. It's simple, they have a lot of gold and little else worth trading in the world we're in now. You can't eat the gold, but you can make use of it as a medium of exchange. Out here the farms are coping, but starvation is getting worse further east of the Mississippi. We've got oceans of gasoline that's flourishing here but in the eastern areas it can't get through. By trading our excess gasoline, food surplus, parts, materials and so on for precious metals we can get a good thing going. It'll help set up the Northern League as an economic oasis and bring about a better world, even better than the one we left behind after the Blue Sun.” Wynter said. Cohen nodded but said nothing.

“With your trade connections Ruben we were hoping you could give us some clues and references to how to go about this.” Connarsby said hopefully.

“I can, but I don't know why I should.” Cohen said bluntly. “I don't have a problem any of you or your faction, yet having said that there are those in it who don't particularly like my Kaslar people.”

Wynter knew that would be a sticking point. The fact that the Northern League controlled the gasoline and refineries gave him leverage but the devil was in the details. Having the best warriors came with a price.

“There's a faction out there that hates your folk more than any Kinslander, Naslimite or 'Rabian put together. It's one that hate's all what we stand for.”

Cohen looked startled, a rare sight indeed.

“If you want to know who that is just ask yourself why you can't see out of your right eye anymore.” Oakley said.

Cohen realized upon the mystery, like a puzzle finally fitting together properly. “Those creatures that I fought. They aren't just a random freak or genetic anomoly of the times?”

“If only, there's a deadly force behind them. During the siege we killed two of their number, a man and a woman during the final battle.” Connarsby said.

“They were lead by an officer who escaped.” Said Wynter “And that officer is part of a faction calling themselves The Saken.”

“If we're not prepared and have at least one solid front to take them on they'll first destroy Europe and Eurasia, then your Kaslar homeland in the Levant. Eventually, one way or another we could see them come. Maybe it'll be streaming over the Bering Straits or even from these Underways that run under the earth. Whatever the way, when that day comes I want the Northern League to be ready.” The Duke said letting it sink in.

There was another pause and silence, Oakley filled it.

“I'd prefer to stay on my Mountain Hold and keep out of the way but it's shaping up to impact us all trader. I've seen the Saken hordes in a vision. I thought maybe I was part-crazy but a few other strange things happened and then all hell broke loose with Tonswater. Then we learn about this new big faction on the borders of Europa.” Oakley said.

“We heard of a new socialist-worker faction called the UNAS in Eurasia? Are these are the Saken you speak of Mike?” Cohen said, his mind spinning.

“The UNAS are backed by the Saken but that's them to all intents and purposes. The UNAS are like the human face to the monsters within.” Mike responded.

“It could be that the UNAS and Saken will be stopped by the Europan Factions or the Jade Empire but we can't afford to risk it. We have to be doing something, anything and if they make a move over the Bering Straits we have to be strong, even stronger than we our now.”

“There can be no imperialist ways Hyborean, my folk will have no part of that. Gold does strange things to a man who can't handle it, it's a lot of power, maybe too much even for one like you.” Cohen said now pacing the floor and looking over with ice in his eyes.

“There shall be none, you have my Lorien Oath on that and my blood!” Duke Wynter said boldly. He drew his blade and opened a small cut to demonstrate his intent. Then with a fire in his eye that shook Cohen he spoke loudly.“Now what do you say man of Kaslar, will you join us in our battle and put aside ancient rivalry?”

Cohen took a deep breath and pulled up his Nexus terminal. He hardly used it since the siege apart from checking the news-boards.

“I'll see what I can do.”

**Watch Ryder** · 06-10-2015, 10:02 AM

Ok, this story is now called The Golden Odyssey!

It's just about released too!

Announcement

Warlords Rising

Warlords Rising

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