If you spot any mistakes please leave a comment, so I can fix them, thanks.

I thought it might help some of my readers if you had pictures of some of the things that I’ve been mentioning in this story.

Sherman Grizzly

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grizzly_I_cruiser

M7 Priest

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M7_Priest#Variants

Defrocked Priest or Kangaroo

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kangaroo_(armoured_personnel_carrier)

M18 Hellcat

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M18_Hellcat

FV101 Scorpion

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FV101_Scorpion

Kenworth T800 without sixteen foot dump body

http://www.kenworth.com/trucks/t800/

Kenworth C500 without thirty foot dump end trailer attached, one bad ass looking truck.

http://www.kenworth.com/trucks/c500/

Caterham Seven 280

http://us.caterhamcars.com/cars/seven-280

Cue the music.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zE-EMinj69o

Weatherby Mark V Safari; isn’t it beautiful.

http://www.weatherby.com/products/rifles/mark-v/mark-vr-safari.html

Taurus Raging Judge

http://www.taurususa.com/product-details.cfm?id=702&category=Revolver&toggle=&breadcrumbseries=

Remington 7600

http://www.remington.com/products/firearms/centerfire/model-7600/model-7600.aspx

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Chapter 17: New Survivors

Fifteen minutes after Star and I heard the shouts, I was talking with Fred Stone, a former civil engineer with the Road Commission. Star was standing just behind my right shoulder and she had her shotgun at the ready. For some reason the craft-makers and her in particular were rather protective of me.

Fred seemed to be having some difficulty in focusing on me. It was like he wanted to look at everything else but me. I knew that I wasn’t that impressive looking a man but I still found his behavior rather impolite.

“Hello Mister Stone, my name is Vincent Standish. The World Warning and Commentator System which I call the Ding-Ding System or DDS, has for some reason pronounced me to be a king, the Hermit King to be exact. As such I have certain magical abilities which have helped me to protect myself and those who have chosen to follow me. We came here searching for materials to boost our capabilities and sustain us in the difficult days to come. We only really need a few things, V-plows being the most important item. As we are all or almost all of us, former residents of this county, I feel that we have the right to take those things that we want but since you were here first, I would not be averse to trading for those items. But I will not trade any of our vehicles or repeating firearms. Is there anything that you might need or want?”

Fred’s was so nervous that his stomach was twisted up. This strange group had people from at least three different species and they had tanks! Before things had been simple, kill anything that attacked. Now if he said the wrong thing he might be regretting it for the rest of his life. The people surrounding the shabbily dressed so called “Hermit King,” standing before him seemed to be a serious bunch of hard cases. They looked like a crazy collection of post-apocalyptic warriors from a bad science fiction movie, which he guessed was actually the case considering what had happened to the world. The humans and lizard-men all were wearing armored vests of some kind and WWII German coal scuttle style combats helmets. Some of the vests were of modern manufacture, while the others were made of leather, chainmail, steel plates or combinations of all three materials.

The bird men were wearing obviously backless long brown leather overcoats or dusters, leather pants, leather gloves, leather boots and what looked like WWI leather flying helmets. One of them was even sporting goggles, equipped with very large lenses for their equally large eyes. All of their clothes were slightly puffy looking as if they were filled with some kind of insulation. Fred seeing their feathers made an obvious guess about what kind of insulation was being used. Each flyer seemed to have a single attendant, either a human or a lizard man. That person carried a large leather duffel bag. He saw one attendant dig out a bulky blanket from their bag and then wrap the huge cloak over and around the wings of a shivering bird woman. The woman nodded her head in thanks to her human attendant.

All of those present except for their “King” were wearing brassards on their arms. The brassard on their left arms showed the American Flag, while the one on their right arms displayed the three banded, blue and white flag that Jean had first spotted.

Fred had of course been using his appraisal skill, so he knew some of the names and titles of many of those that were present, but there were far too many for him to remember all at once. However the most important people, he tried to fix in his mind.

Name: Knight Captain George Mesquida

Title: Commander of the Hermit’s Guard

Name: Lady Knight Night Storm

Title: Second Chief of the Terran Long Flight Clan

Title: Lieutenant in the Hermit’s Guard

Name: Sir Clyde Jenkins

Title: Minister of Ground Transport.

Fred refocused his eyes and his appraisal skill, on the man of slightly less than average height that stood before him. What he took to be snowflakes in the unkempt man’s hair he realized were in fact small white feathers. He guessed that they must be from the bird people. It’s not like there were any chickens around.

Name: His Royal Majesty Vincent Standish

Title: THE HERMIT KING

Title: Sovereign and Absolute Monarch of the Kingdom of Hermit’s Forge.

Title: The Grumpy Hermit, aka The Grumpy Hermit King

The last title reminded Fred that he had better respond to the slightly pissed off looking disheveled man with the bloodshot eyes.

“I don’t mean to be rude but how should I address you sir?”

“Well first off, I’m not a knight so don’t, fucking address me as sir.” Fred noticed several off the nearby strangers either wincing or shaking their heads in response to their King’s behavior. “If you were one of my people you could call me Vince, Vincent, or Boss. But not Vinnie, I fucking hate Vinnie and most especially don’t be calling the Hermit’s Guard, Vinnie’s Thugs, as I’ve heard a few of my people do. I might be almost half Italian, but I’m not the fucking Godfather.

Since you are not one of my people and this kind of protocol shit matters to the DDS you can call me Your Majesty, King, or the Hermit King; possibly followed by my first or last name. This is a hard fucking world we are all living in now, and I am one rude and grumpy asshole. Now that we’ve got the nice diplomatic bullshit out of the way, what do you want for four of your V-plows? Since you will never be able to fucking use them, you better give me a fair price or we’ll just fucking take them considering that we are former taxpayers for this county and we have as much right to them as anyone else.”

Fred’s unease grew; maybe his delay in responding to the grumpy bastard hadn’t been the smartest thing for him to do. “There are ninety-three of us hiding in the County’s old emergency shelter in the building behind me. We’ve got a lot of food left but all of our livestock is gone and the monsters have been killing us off, one by one, for months. There were over a hundred and sixty of us before everything turned to crap. If we join with you, what kind of rights will we have? Do we have the right to vote?”

The humans from the Stronghold started to laugh. The lizard men looked confused and the few bird people simultaneously did a face palm, like they didn’t want to see what was coming. The Hermit King just grinned, evilly.

“Sure you can vote, you can vote for anything you want to but IT WON’T MEAN SQUAT! What about me being a sovereign monarch, has you so fucking confused? I delegate shit to my Council, who are all ennobled. They tell people to do other shit and if those people don’t do as they are told to do, they are banished from my lands. Anybody who wants to join my community has to go through an interview process, except for those with an orange screen. That way we can catch trouble makers early. We are in a fucking lifeboat and I don’t need anyone punching more holes into it!

I’ve got six rules for those who live on my lands but my Minister of Justice probably has a few more, none of them apply to me by the way, because I’m an asshole.

Rule one: Treat others with respect until they screw up.

Rule two: Don’t use violence against another sentient unless in defense of your life, personal property, or another’s life or personal property. It is permissible to use violence to punish someone when any of those things that I mentioned previously have already taken place but you should see one of my Peace Keepers first and let them handle things, because if you mess up, it can be mean your ass.

Rule three: Act honorably, for example if you’re married and swore to be faithful then, don’t fucking cheat on your spouse. That rule also means that we watch each other’s backs. Children are to be treasured, that doesn’t mean that they have a license to misbehave and be disrespectful little shits.

Rule four: Don’t fucking steal!

Rule five: Don’t lie. I know people tell so called ‘white lies’ all of the time and I can tolerate those but lying nowadays is bullshit when even a small one can get someone killed. I especially hate lies that are deliberately harmful to others, like giving false testimony. Many of us have the true sight ability and we know when someone is lying to us.

Rule six: You will obey my rules and commands. You will also obey those people that I have put into positions of authority.

Like I said, my Minister of Justice probably has a few more rules or laws but those are the basics. This world is filled with monsters that want to eat us. I’ve got no time or inclinations to chair any debate societies. I really have not much more of an inclination to talk with you, for that matter. I’m making you a onetime offer for those plow blades. When we haul them away with us we can also take a delegation from your group back to the Stronghold. They can see our compound and talk with some of our people. Tomorrow we’ll bring your delegation back and then they can describe what they saw and heard to you and the rest of your survivors. Those who wish to join us can go through our interview process as for the rest, I don’t give a fuck. How does that sound to you?”

“But the monsters, they come every night. We’re getting low on powder and the other things that I use for my traps. Those are our only effective weapons against those horrors. Those damn creatures are invisible. If I or if any of our leaders go with you then we’ll lose our best fighters for the night.”

“Sounds like fucking Night Stalkers, to me. Do they look like lions, bats, humans or some other beasty?”

“Most of the monsters have lion like features but we’ve been seeing some more human looking ones recently too. Four of our people have been infected by the monsters.”

The Hermit’s expression suddenly became sharp like a naked blade. “Are they still human? Do they still have a normal human screen or does it say Night Stalker now?”

“When I checked this morning they were still human.”

“Believe it or not; this expeditionary force has three magical Healers. I’ve already healed several people infected with the Night Stalker virus. I might be able to help your people depending on how far gone they are, it’s something that is very time critical though.”

“If you can do that for us, we’ll willingly join you.”

“We’ll try and help but buddy you’ve got to prove to us that we should let you join us. Lead the way to your sick people, like I said time is of the essence. George, please gather a security detail for us. Clyde, you’re a Healer so please follow me. Lady Knight Night,” I love saying that, “please return to the armored trailer and keep warm there. If we need your help with these infected people we’ll bring them out to you.”

I followed Star Astrologer into the building. She had insisted on going in front of me, she in turn was following three others, George being one of them and Clyde was following me. I had slung my rifle and I now held my shotgun at the ready or as Ash (Evil Dead, Army of Darkness) would call it, my “boom stick.”

To get to their bunker we had to pass through cluttered hallways and makeshift barricades, the place was a wreck. Upon arriving at their basement refuge one thing that immediately struck me was that it stank! After passing a large number of wide-eyed fearful looking smelly people, we finally came to what appeared to be an old storage room that had been clumsily made into sort of a prison cell.

There were four people strapped down to some heavy metal and wooden tables. Appraisal, true sight and my healing ability; all told me that they only had a short time before they completely succumbed to the virus. I put a hand on each of the two that were closest to me. “Clyde, I know you did some healing after that bat attack last night. I’m pumping a quick healing into these two. When I’m done I’ll start with the others, but I’ll need you to start healing the woman on my right. George, once I remove my left hand from this man here, I need you to restrain him and carry him out to Night Storm have her do what she can. We’ll need to take all four of them back with us tonight or they’ll be Night Stalkers by morning.” I only pumped four minutes of healing into the first two, because I felt that I didn’t dare delay in starting on the others. I could sense that they were in far worse shape.

Glen and Ron with a lot of manpower, hydraulic jacks and a chain hoist, got a V-plow attached to the T800 in a little over an hour. They locked the blade up off the ground, and scavenged for parts to get its hydraulics working. While they were doing that three other V-plow blades were loaded onto the T-800’s flat bed trailer. After searching the maintenance shed and disconnecting some manual hydraulic controls from older vehicles, the men finally decided that they would have to return to the Stronghold in order to get the plow blade’s hydraulics operational, but they were confident that they had almost all of the parts needed to accomplish that task.

Clyde had been a tanker, a farmer, and a collector of tractors however the one thing that he had always wanted to be was a doctor but he had always thought that he just wasn’t smart enough for the job. Now he was a Healer and he was doing his best for the infected woman on the table before him. After twenty minutes Clyde felt himself growing weak and unsteady on his feet. A craft-maker Guardsman helped him over to a chair. Vince though was still working on his two patients. The Hermit continued to do so for another fifteen minutes beyond what Clyde had done, who was now sipping water and eating a survival cracker. When Vince started to waver, Star helped him to sit down on a chair of his own.

I put my hand onto Clyde’s patient and I was impressed. He had done far more than I had expected him to do. “Clyde you did a good job with this woman, you should be proud of yourself.” While drinking some water and eating the worst tasting cracker of my entire life, I looked up at Fred, who was wide-eyed. “Mister Stone, if the other Healers back at the Stronghold are not too busy tonight, we should have these people cured by morning. But there is a possibility that they won’t physically be fully human anymore, their bodies have been altered some but not their brains, we caught that just in time. I don’t know if we can undo those alterations, we can only do our best. If you want to organize a delegation you should do it quickly because I want to get out of here as quickly as possible. Star, how are things looking outside?”

“Your Majesty, the plow has been attached to the truck and the blades loaded onto the trailer. The last word that I had was that they were still scavenging for a few more parts and that they were almost ready to go.”

“Very good, let’s restrain these three just to play it safe and carry them out to the armored trailer. Their claw like fingernails make me a little uncomfortable, they might attack us just out of fear.”

Fred wanted to go and see the “Stronghold” but he was his group’s leader and the best trap maker, so he knew that he needed to stay behind, Jean White went instead. Before leaving Captain Mesquida gave Fred five Hawken rifles, a half pound of black powder and much more importantly, four magic lights that Sir George said would reveal any invisible monsters that their illumination fell upon.

Jean had insisted on bringing her two children with her to the Stronghold. She didn’t know if it was safe or not but she didn’t think that her group’s old bunker was that safe either, and after their father’s death it terrified her to have her children out of her sight. She was told that it was little less than seven miles to “The Stronghold of Hermit’s Forge,” she thought it a grandiose and ridiculous name. So far she had seen steam powered vehicles, repeating manual action firearms, and magic lights. While she had been impressed, she hadn’t been that impressed. She couldn’t envision the supposed “Stronghold” as being a truly imposing place. Probably at best, it was simply a cluster of old structures with makeshift walls made of piled dirt between the buildings; they might even have a little ditch too. But with these strangers possessing steam powered vehicles and repeating firearms she did her best to control her facial expressions. She had nearly snorted in derision upon meeting the “Great Hermit King,” what an unkempt and worthless looking man.

During their journey home, the convoy was attacked by a large group of what her appraisal skill identified as Daedon Giganteas, Giant Prehistoric Feral Hogs with teeth and jaws that looked like they belonged to an alligator. The monsters were horrid looking, she was riding in the T800 and the creatures were almost exactly the same height as the large truck.

She screamed and gathered her babies into her arms, the only monsters that she had been exposed to were the Night Stalkers, who were at least human size. The soldiers aiming the large rifles that were mounted within the truck started firing and the monsters started blowing apart. The noise was deafening even with the ear plugs that she and her children had been given earlier. A Sergeant roared out. “You stupid idiots, use the standard ammunition! Stop wasting the special stuff. You’re ruining the meat and I want barbecue for dinner tomorrow night!”

Jean saw the discomfited expressions on the marksmen as they changed the magazines on their weapons. The sharpshooters weren’t afraid of the huge monsters; they were instead embarrassed and frightened of their Sergeant.

Later, Richard Jacobs was working an air powered chainsaw and complaining to his Captain. “I can’t believe how much meat those morons wasted! Almost a month’s worth of good eating is just gone!”

“Calm down Rich, I would rather have them make that kind of mistake than going the other route and not shooting a powerful enough bullet to kill a monster. Besides that we barely got enough room on the flatbed for the meat we do have. All of that blood is making a mess of the trailer and the plows it’s hauling.”

Rich grumbled but went back to cutting meat.

The chainsaws and many willing hands made short work of dismembering the monsters. The Guards were all very experienced, by this time, with that sort of task.

Jean watching out the thick windows, of the T800’s armored body, was astonished with how efficiently and calmly the soldiers went about their duties, she began to hope for the first time since her husband’s death. A little over an hour later, the convoy resumed its journey for home. The returning Guards loudly complained about the messy butchering job and were wishing that the new armored tractor was already operational.

After another twenty minutes of travel time they turned down a gravel road and Jean started seeing what appeared to be a wall just beyond the trees. The wall grew rapidly, the wall grew larger; the WALL WAS IMMENSE! There were corners to the structure and at the top of the wall she could see crenels in the parapet. She gasped, as a little girl she had always wanted to live in a castle, which was part of the reason why she had become a civil engineer in the first place. She “oohed and aahed” when she saw the moat, with its smooth sides blending in seamlessly with the fortress’s walls. She helped her children to stand on their seats so that they too, could see the same things that she was seeing.

Jean, being a nut about castles and fortifications, liked the moat but she wished it was wider. She was also disappointed that there wasn’t a drawbridge, nor had she seen a single tower or turret which lowered her spirits still further. But the heavy metal double gates at both sides of the reasonably thick wall mollified her. They drove inside the fortress, she darted from window to window looking at the vastness inside and she was overjoyed. They drove a short distance more and the convoy came to an enclosure with a twelve foot tall fence topped with barbwire. She was feeling safer and safer. Her babies were going to live! She didn’t care what she had to do, they were staying here. Jean had been ignoring the other members of the delegation but they were amazed as she was, at what they were seeing.

I got home and got back to work, there were tunnels to dig and things to enchant. I spoke to Star Astrologer on the way home; she had reluctantly agreed to become my student, it was time to break out the whip and chains. She also said that she would talk to Blender Apothecary for me. She had looked a little frightened when I had started discussing the matter with her, I wonder if some of my earlier students had perhaps warned her? We would be meeting for two hours every other day, until we got some results. Since neither of them actually had the enchanting ability it would take some time for me to beat it into them, if it worked at all.

Our patients were brought to the infirmary; I would stop by during the evening and check on their recovery. Even with the attack last night we had enough Healers now where we should be able to kill the virus in their bodies and save their minds. The delegation was turned over to Jennifer that was her sort of job.

I was tempted to help out with the conversions on both the Case 590 and the crawler crane but there were things that only I could do, and it was better if I stuck to them.

I had to admit that I wanted to acquire that old County Building and the fenced in parking lot. I could easily fortify that structure in a single day. It already had a bunker equipped with a well and water hand pump; in addition there was a lot food stored there as well. That location was on our route to town. We could make that place a fortified waypoint for our expeditions into the city and other destinations further east of us. Any of our people could then retreat to it if necessary rather than making the longer trip back to home.

Because of the excellent maintenance that Clyde and his crew have been performing on our vehicles we hadn’t yet had a breakdown but our luck was sure to turn sour at some point in time. I still had some of those stones that Mack had gathered, left over from building our fortress’s walls. I hadn’t enchanted them but I would only need a few for the County Building.

The delegation was given a tour of the Stronghold by Lady Jennifer and Lady Faith. Jean was amazed by the giant stone edifice but being a castle aficionado and an engineer, she could readily see ways in which it could be improved. The rest of the delegation while also amazed was horrified by the tales of the monsters that had already attacked the place. The group actually had to be shown frozen pieces of the giant Sky Krakens before they truly believed what they were being told.

The survivors at the County Building with plenty of food and water, had basically been in hiding for the past several months, barely poking their heads out like timid groundhogs. While the Night Stalkers had found them, larger monsters had been passing them by.

Isabella peeked in Vincent’s bedroom fifteen minutes after he went to bed. Just like usual he was already fast asleep. He might need to only sleep three or four hours per night but it was the sleep of an exhausted man. The women had moved into his home because of the safety both it and he represented. But how could he help to protect them if he slept through whatever danger came for them during the night? Thus the women, without his knowledge, had taken to staying with Vincent while he slept, just so as to wake him up in case of an emergency. At first they had taken turns sitting in the comfortable armchair that was in his room. That had quickly gotten old and they had started making a pallet on the floor on which to sleep.

Waking Vincent up could take as long as five minutes. But when he woke up on his own, it was almost a cartoonish event and could take as long as a half an hour or more. First he would start to make a grumbling noise and stretch. Then he would sit up with his eyes still closed, turn his head like he was looking around the bedroom, he might also yawn some more or scratch his head, after which he would collapse back upon his bed for a few more minutes of sleep. This behavior would repeat several times before he truly awoke thus giving anyone in his bedroom plenty of time to make their escape. Isabella was the first one to actually start sharing Vince’s bed with him. His queen size bed was far more comfortable and warmer than the floor, besides that until Vincent started to wake up, he never moved an inch so it was perfectly safe for the women.

Even with Vincent’s deep sleep, Isabella thoroughly enjoyed the experience of “sleeping” with him. For years she hadn’t had anyone that she could truly count on; then had come her time in prison which was the worst experience of her life. Vincent might be a rude unkempt individual but he had gotten her out of that horrible place, supported her since then and made her feel safe. Sleeping in his bed brought her a level of emotional comfort that she hadn’t felt in decades.

The next day we returned to meet with Fred Stone and the rest of his survivors. Both trucks had been fitted with V-plows. The four formerly infected patients were still in our infirmary, recovering their strength. The delegation was enthusiastically supporting the idea of joining with us. George, Faith, Star Astrologer, Glen, Night Storm, Clyde and I would all be performing the interviews. On the way, we were attacked by some of those giant sized saber tooth pit-bulls, the same kind of beasts that had bothered me while I was building the Stronghold’s walls. The two meter tall monsters barely slowed us down and no one wasted any enchanted bullets on them. There were only seven of the beasts and they had to be pretty stupid to attack us. Actually they had focused all of their attacks on the Scorpion but it was still a pretty damn dumb thing to do. We threw their bodies onto the T800’s trailer and continued on to the County Building. We would butcher them when we got there.

I met with Fred after he heard from his delegation. “Fred, this is a brutal world now and I’m a mad tyrant. If you join with us you’ll almost certainly be working for Mack, who is my Minister of Construction. I don’t know what kind of leadership post he’ll give you, if he gives you any at all. Can you handle being demoted from your position of leadership here?”

“I would love not to be in charge anymore.”

Almost all of the interviews went smoothly, we had to put a few people on notice that they had to change their ways and behave in a more honorable and cooperative fashion but nobody was too much of an asshole until John Smith. He was one of the two blue screens that they had and he had been hiding at the back of the line.

It turns out that John had been a former city employee that was forced to resign because he had been caught stealing, one too many times from the City’s Public Works Department. His union and some other connections had gotten him a job with the County but he still hadn’t reformed. What was worse was that he was one of those that helped frame Isabella and had lied during both her criminal and civil trials.

That put me in a quandary, if we didn’t accept him then he would remain here and I couldn’t claim this land. I sure as hell didn’t want this untrustworthy bastard in my Stronghold. Beyond that, it would upset Isabella and personally I wanted to kick this guy so hard in the crotch that his balls literally came out of his mouth. I was finally sorry that I had killed all of those bullet ants; I could have staked this guy out for them.

“Mister Smith, we already know that you’re a piece of shit from your actions involving Lady Knight Isabella Gomez our Royal Botanist. But I’m told that you have an ex-wife and an eight year old son. Where do they live?”

He was looking nervously at me. “They have an apartment in the city.”

“Fred told me that you overheard his plans and forced your way into his survival group. I’m impressed with what Fred, Jean and the others did here. Did you attempt in any shape or fashion, to get your son to join you here in safety?”

“My ex is a bitch. I’ve been paying a fortune in child support, she can damn well look after him, herself.”

“Have you ever hit your wife or son? I remind you that I have true sight.”

“I might have put some bruises on them.”

“What kind of family did you grow up in? Were your parents, good people? Did they ever hit you?”

“My folks are great. They always did the best for me. When I flunked out of college my mom got me my job with the city. They never hit me or shit like that.”

“From the way you are talking, your parents are still alive. Where do they live? Did you try and bring them here?”

“They’re old, they’ve got a little house downtown; they would never want to leave their home. So I never even asked them.”

The maggot before me didn’t even realize that he wasn’t human. I looked at Fred; he had a disgusted expression on his face. “Fred, as I’ve told you earlier I have more magical power on lands that I claim. I would like you as the leader of your group to cede this building and property to me. I will then fortify this place to be a combination safe haven and embassy for my domain. I don’t feel that John here is a real member of your group or has any standing with you.”

Fred had been watching people and supplies leaving all day long from the bunker and going to the Stronghold. Personally he wanted to rejoin his wife as soon as possible and if he never saw this place again it would be fine with him, and if he never saw John Smith again that would be okay too. “Your Majesty, I willingly turn over these building and lands to you.”

I put my bare hand on John Smith’s left shoulder. “John Smith you are worthless piece of shit and I seal away any abilities or enhancements that you might have inside of you. You’ve abandoned your child, your parents and gave false testimony against Lady Isabella. You will be given a pack full of food and warm clothes but no weapons. I can’t trust you on my lands nor can I trust you not to harm some innocent. You will get the fuck off of my lands and keep off of them!” He looked at me in horror, so I took the opportunity to kick him in the crotch! My status screen flashed up for just a second. I didn’t even have time to read it. I thought that I was going to see my status go to green or something. But when I called my screen back up it was still orange. However during that brief initial flash, I swear it was red.

Rich Jacobs, who looked like he wanted to shoot John Smith, gathered some things for him and sent him on his way. The self-centered maggot was crying like a little baby as he stumbled away. Yeah he was probably going to his death, but it was no better than that asshole deserved. I could only hope that it was an ugly painful death and that he didn’t take some innocent down with him.

I was exhausted after sealing Smith’s abilities away. I felt as tired as if I had spent a full hour healing someone. Normally when I awaken a person, it only takes a fraction of my energy but I am always doing it with their consent however in Smith’s case I had imposed my will upon him. The reasons for my actions were twofold. One, I didn’t trust the little rat fuck not to use his abilities against some innocent party, that is if by some miracle he manages to survive and then gains access to his magical skills and enhancements. In my mind John Smith is a criminal by his own admitted actions and you typically don’t trust criminals, especially blue screen criminals, with weapons. I could see his magical potential and while it wasn’t much, it was too much for a person like him. The second reason I sealed his powers away is for payback. Smith helped to frame Isabella before I even knew her but the timing of his actions doesn’t matter to me. The only thing I care about is that he did it. In my book, she is a class act and that scumbag deserves far worse than what I did to him.

After resting, I claimed the land. George and Ron used their Fire Magic to warm the ground so my bare feet didn’t get cold but they did get muddy!

We continued to transport items to the Stronghold. Clothes, bedding, light bulbs and furniture were the things that were really needed. The building had a huge number of those stackable chairs and large folding tables; they could all be put to good use. I emplaced my enchanted stones around the building. We finally had everything that we thought we wanted, but we could always come back if we forgot something. Using the stones to aid me, I grew walls of compressed rock around the building, completely covering up all of the openings. The walls were only a foot thick, I planned on coming back later to reinforce them; my enchanted stones still had a lot of life in them.