I was surprised when I was led into a courtyard where a bunch of horse-drawn carriages stood, thirteen of them to be exact. Each carriage was manned by the driver and a rifle-wielding guard next to the driver. There were two additional guards standing at the back as well. The horses looked like horses should. No horns or wings or anything like that. I only felt slightly disappointed at that, which struck me as ridiculous.

‘Hey, if magic is real, it’s not so odd that you expect more proof of the fantastical,’ I thought to myself, as I was led into the carriage with the burnished orange drapes. On the side of the carriage, there was a coat of arms that looked like a goat with a crown or something, but I did not have time to look it over properly since the guard quickly ushered me into the carriage quickly. Not that I cared much either.

Inside I found three other guys waiting, all of them dressed like me. I recognized that they were some of those that had been selected for the same king I was. Giving them a friendly nod in greeting, I tried to get comfortable. The seats were comfy enough, but the carriage was just not built for a large man like me. My legs especially, took up most of the space between the two benches facing each other, which forced the guy opposite me to move to the side. The guy I was sitting next to also had to be satisfied with less space. Because of how we had to sit, and the shortness of my shirt, I was pretty sure I was flashing him. At least he tried studiously not to look below my neck.

As soon as the door closed behind me, we heard and felt the carriage starting to move. I looked at the others, and said, “What do you think is going to happen to us?”

“I hope whatever they want, we get to go home soon. My wife is going to be so worried about me,” the short fat guy next to me answered. Short was relative, he was still taller than most of the people in this world that I had seen. He was just short compared to me, then again, most people were. He looked to be a bit older than me, maybe late thirties or early forties.

The guy immediately across from me, mediocre looking in most aspects, but with a hard look in his eyes, shook his head with a glimpse of disgust on his face. The look in his eyes immediately made me cautious. It was the look of someone accustomed to violence. The buzz cut haircut made me suspect that he was a soldier, maybe former, since he looked to be mid-twenties, and a little out of shape. Not much, but he looked like he had let himself go a little.

The last guy in the carriage was young and very short, not just compared to me. He could not be much taller than one and a half meters. His hand kept going towards his face, as if to push glasses back in place.

So I was in the carriage with Fatty, Soldier Boy and Nerd. If it came down to it, I would have to take Soldier Boy down first. A kick to the sternum would probably keep him in place long enough for me to take down Fatty. Two punches to the face should do him in and then I would have to turn my attention back to Soldier Boy. After taking care of Fatty, I would have to get out of the seat and use my size to overpower Soldier Boy. Hopefully, he would not be able to use the cramped space against me.

How I would take him down I was a bit hazy about, because I could not gauge what kind of training he had. Nerd was not much of a danger, he would probably be scared shitless and keep out of the fight until I could take care of him.

All of that went through my head in a second or two, a habit I had from my time associating with unsavoury characters and my time in prison. I plastered a large smile on my face and said, “What about you Nerd? What do you think will happen?”

Nerd looked around confused for a moment before asking, “Me?”

“You’re the only one here with glasses,” I said.

“I’m not wearing glasses,” he pointed out.

“But you normally do.”

“How do you know that?”

I did not even try to suppress the sigh escaping me. “You keep trying to push your glasses back in place, and you’re squinting a lot.”

“Are you some kind of detective?” Fatty asked.

“Nope,” I said and gave him a hard stare. I turned my attention back to Nerd. “Okay, spill. What do you think is going to happen?”

The carriage tilted a bit, pressing me back into the seat, and Soldier Boy and Nerd seemed to slide forward a bit before bracing themselves. If I would have to take a guess, the carriage was going downwards at around a five degree slope.

“Uhm, it’s going to sound stupid,” Nerd hesitantly said.

“Just spit it out,” Soldier Boy said with a frown.

“Uhm, yes. I think we’re in another world.”

Fatty gave a weak laugh at that. “Yeah, we’re definitely not in Kansas anymore.”

I gave him a withering glare, and told him, “Shut up and let the kid talk.”

Fatty gulped, looked for a moment like he was about to say something, but then thought better of it when I stretched in such a way he got pushed into the side of the carriage by my elbow. Looking at Nerd, I motioned for him to go on.

“We obviously got some kind of magic that we can unlock, I managed to do this while waiting for him to come,” Nerd said and pointed to Soldier Boy. He then held up his right index finger and looked at it intently.

“Do what? Pick your nose?” Soldier Boy scoffed, just as a flame sprung to life at the end of Nerd’s fingertip. I had to reevaluate. Nerd was going down first, he might not know much magic, and hopefully, flaming finger was all he could do, but if he could do more he would be dangerous.

“That’s pretty neat, but put the finger away before you set fire to anything,” I said. With a blush, he stopped producing the flame. I turned to the others and asked, “What powers did you get?”

I could remember seeing them up there, but could not remember their ratings or what power they got. Fatty puffed out his chest, “I got a power rating of five, and I can manipulate water.”

Soldier Boy scoffed at that, “I’m a seven and I can control metal.”

“I’m a seven as well,” Nerd added happily, which earned him an irate stare from Soldier Boy.

Soldier Boy turned to me and asked, “What about you?”

“Six and I can control fire just like Nerd here,” I lied through my teeth. No way in hell I was going to volunteer info. Especially since I did not know what Linking really did. Connecting two objects. Sounded like it would work on non-living things only.

“Don’t call me that,” Nerd muttered under his breath.

“What should I call you then?” I asked with a hard tone. He clearly did not expect me to hear because he looked at me with a scared look in his eyes.

“Uhm, I’m Adam Müller,” he stammered.

“Fine Nerd, I shall see if I can remember that to another time,” I said with a cheeky smile. Which just earned me a frown. Turning serious, I asked, “How did you do it? Controlling the fire like that?”

“Uhm, I tried to do like all the cultivation stories I’ve read said I should. Find my dantian and pull chi from it.” He was spouting nonsense.

“In English,” Soldier Boy said.

“I’m speaking German,” Nerd countered.

“No you idiot, you’re speaking whatever these people are speaking,” I said and pointed towards where the driver was sitting.

“Are you sure?” Fatty asked.

“Yes, listen to the sounds I’m making, not what I’m saying,” I said a bit irate. “Aren’t you folks paying attention to what’s going on?”

“I just assumed they spoke English,” Soldier Boy said defensively.

“Anyway, you just reach inside this dantian, whatever the fuck is that?” I asked Nerd again. I practiced tai chi before going to prison, but never listen to any of the philosophy lessons, but I thought they used that word as well. He then launched into a long, and often conflicting, explanation. My eyes glazed over because he was basically just rambling off a list of various stories he had read, which had similar but still widely different systems of providing energy for performing feats of magic.

What I gathered from his inane rambling was that I needed to locate a power source within myself. I could still feel the energy the crystal sphere had flooded my body with, but it was not collected in one place, it felt like it was flowing throughout my whole body. Just underneath the surface out of reach. At one hand it felt like it was a part of my body, but at the same time, it felt detached, like I was missing some connection between my body and the energy.

The priest had said my power was to connect, or link, objects. So that meant I would need something to link. Looking around I found nothing loose I could use, but when I looked at the others, I saw the string used to tie the shirt together in the neck. Mine was broken from when I ripped it. Fumbling for a moment I managed to pull two pieces of string out of the ruined shirt.

I held the two pieces of string in my hand, trying to connect the two while reaching for that energy that almost felt like it was at my fingertips. After a couple of minutes, I felt the same feeling as when I touched the sphere, only this time it felt like the energy was travelling out of my body. At a very slow rate, but it still felt very good.

Without letting the others see what I was doing, I tried to pull the two pieces of strings from each other. At first, they were definitely stuck together, but as I applied more force, the energy started to flow through me much faster. Only lasted a second or so, before they broke apart with the force I was applying. The energy that was rushing away from me suddenly came crashing back, making me a bit dizzy.

When it settled back down, I felt as if there were a little less energy than had been there before, but not a lot. I was not in doubt that I had used some form of magic to link the two pieces of string. Curious what else I could do, I concentrated on the string and then the cushion I was sitting on. I was still holding the string in the air, so it did not touch the cushion. Nevertheless, I felt the string trying to get closer to cushion, trying to drag my hand down with it.

Releasing the energy naturally did not bring any form of backlash. Just to experiment I tried to connect the string to something further away and chose Nerd’s shirt. Immediately the end of the string rose, hanging horizontally in the air, pointing toward Nerd. I released the energy or magic at once.

Nerd turned to Soldier Boy, tapped his shoulder and asked, “Yes?”

“What?” Soldier Boy replied, looking up from the floor he had been staring intently at. I noticed one of the nails had started working itself out of the board. Meaning Soldier Boy had indeed control over metal, and had unlocked his power. It also meant he just went to the top of who got taken down first, if a fight broke out.

“You tugged my shirt,” Nerd said.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Listen kid, if I want your attention I’ll slug you in the shoulder,” Soldier Boy grouched.

“Whatever.” Was Nerd’s awesome reply.

Fatty almost jumped in his seat as he exuberantly shouted, “Look!”

Looking over at him, I saw a large drop of water floating in the air over his palm. My first question was, “Where did you get the water?”

“I used some spit,” Fatty said proudly and sent the water floating towards me.

“You hit me with that and I break your nose, got me?” I threatened. Fatty paled and the droplet hurried back towards him.

The next experiment I did was trying to connect the string with the rifle I knew was just behind me, but I could not do that. I then peeked out the drapes and saw we were driving down a cobbled road in what looked like how I would expect a city from the middle-ages to look like. At least the rich part of the city. The houses were well-built with stones and windows in all the houses. No excrements were lying in the streets, so it was almost like an idealized version of a medieval city.

I picked out a sign with a jolly-looking pig holding a tankard, and connected the end of the string with it. It rose as I expected, and even kept pointing in that direction after I released the drapes and I could no longer see the sign. It even kept pointing at the sign after we made a turn. It only forcefully severed the connection when we were a hundred meters or so away, from what I could estimate with the speed we were travelling.

“I’m like Magneto!” Soldier Boy suddenly exclaimed. “The young handsome version of course, not that old guy.”

Looking at him, I saw a nail was zooming around in the air in front of him. Zooming was an overstatement, it wobbled through the air at a slow pace, and Soldier Boy had sweat on his forehead.

He looked triumphantly at me. “What about you? Have you managed to do something useful yet?”

“Nope, zilch. Can’t seem to reach that energy you all are using,” I said with a shrug. Soldier Boy then showed he never really left high school and did the loser-cough. Making him the perfect target for my next test.

I concentrated on the part of his shirt that was touching the seat and backrest. I kept pouring energy into the link I had created. I kept doing that for the rest of the drive, which turned out to be ten minutes. At the time we stopped, I felt like the energy that was and was not part of my body had diminished by what I estimated to be fifty percent.

The doors opened and the guards told us to get out. On our side, I went out first and took a look around. There was not much to see. We were in another courtyard surrounded by tall grey walls, and surrounded by dozens of guards. I did not even try to calculate the odds or a plan of attack, there was no way for me to take on that many.

Then I heard from the carriage what I had been hoping for. “I’m stuck, I can’t get up!”

“Need a hand?” I asked with a smile and looked into the carriage. Soldier Boy was halfway out of his seat, but the back of his shirt was stuck on the seat, and he was struggling to get all the way up.

“There must be some glue or something on this shitty seat,” Soldier Boy complained and reached out to grab my proffered hand. With a mighty pull, I managed to get him out of the seat, but not by letting go of my power, simply by brute force. A ripping sound accompanied him getting out of his seat, making my smile all the bigger.

Basically most of the back of his shirt was still attached to the seat, turning his shirt into a hospital gown. The aghast look on his face was worth it. With a chuckle I let the energy go and reached in to grab the remains of his shirt.

“You forgot this,” I said and handed it to him.

“You did this!” he fumed, trying to keep the shirt from sliding down his arm because the back of the collar was also gone.

“How? I can’t do magic, I’m a loser, remember?” I said with a feigned look of innocence. Then added with a small wiggle of my little finger, “At least it still covers your little friend, and I put emphasis on small.”

“You’re going to pay for this,” he said through gritted teeth.

I took a step forward and got in his face. Looking down at him, I said, “I’d like to see you try.”

“I’m gonna—” he started to threaten me, however, he got interrupted when my forehead slammed into his nose. The suddenness of my attack sent him stumbling to the ground.

“Oops, my bad!” I said and stepped away as the guards reacted. “He was so boring I started nodding off.”

That made one of the nearby guards break out laughing, and a couple of others followed. Fatty laughed nervously, while Nerd did not say anything, just staring with huge eyes on the blood. Seems none of his group had been executed if a little nosebleed could upset him.

One of the laughing guards said to me, “Ye better follow me before ye find a way to sleepwalk on his groin.”

“Damn, should’ve thought of that. Lead the way,” I said, making a sweeping gesture. The guard looked unsure for a second, but then shrugged. He started walking towards a set of large doors, and two guards followed behind me when I started to move.

The violence had been unnecessary as such, but it felt good. The guy irked me the wrong way, and it was a good way for me to establish dominance. The guards led me down a corridor, then up some stairs, then down more corridors before coming to a stop in front of a door. The first guard said, “Yer chambers.”

“Oh, chambers and not a cell. I like the sound of that,” I said and opened the door. I had to bend down to get in since the door was a handspan shorter than me. Once inside I took a look around. It was a large room, had to be at least five meters deep and around ten long. The entire wall opposite the door was a row of arched windows, with stonework carved to look like columns between them.

The bed was enormous, even for me, and was on the left side of the room, together with some closets and a large freestanding full-length mirror. I would estimate three of me could easily lie in the bed without touching. It looked very comfortable. The middle of the room was left mostly bare, meaning I would have a lot of room to do my exercises.

Facing the windows, and pressed up against the wall was a large desk with a lot of writing implements on it. No books. The chair was a straight-backed wooden one, which looked a bit uncomfortable, to be frank.

The right side of the room had a table up against the windows with a bowl of assorted fruits on it. There was a fireplace which had a small fire going in it, and in front of it, there were a couple of comfortable looking high-backed recliners. I almost missed the door in the corner. I was about to find out where it led when there was a knock on my door.

Stepping into the middle of the room, I bounced a couple of times on my feet, before taking a relaxed stance. I called out an “Enter.”.

The door opened and three guys filed into the room. I also saw the first woman in this world. Two of them. One older matron and a young pretty little thing. It was nice to see a splash of blonde hair as well. It was not until I looked at the girl that I realized everyone else I had seen so far had black or brown hair. Another thing I had noticed was that all males were sporting a beard, except for the priests.

The next thing I noticed about her and the old matron was that they seemed to be wearing some kind of collar made of stiff metal. Not a big heavy one, it almost looked like a piece of jewellery at first, but it seemed more like a collar than a fashion statement.

I had gotten distracted by the pretty girl and realized my gaff. I turned my attention to the three men. All of them were of what seemed to be the average height for this world. A good forty centimeters shorter than me. Two I immediately dismissed as pencil pushers, but the third made me wary. He was an older man, maybe late forties or early fifties, with greying hair, shoulder-length and tied back with a string. Originally it had been black, but it was mostly grey now. His beard was short and well-groomed.

Not only was he dressed in leather armour, though not wearing the colours of the king, he was also armed with a short sword, two daggers and two pistols. His entire being screamed soldier and the scars on his chin and his temple told me he was no stranger to violence.

Seeing that they had my attention, the three men bowed slightly, while the women went to their knees and kowtowed. The military man spoke for the group, “Milord, it’s a pleasure to serve you. My name is Hrotukarneal.”

I blinked my eyes a few times. There was a lot to process there, but I thought to start with the least important part and hopefully buy some time. “Could you repeat your name a few hundred times, so I got a chance to learn how to pronounce it?”

“Hrotukarneal,” the man said, still holding his bow.

“Yeah, I’m going to call you Hrothgar,” I said. “There’s no way I’m ever going to pronounce that.”

“But Milord, you just did,” one of the pencil pushers said. Looking at him, I saw he was dressed in brown robes, much like I would expect a Christian monk to look like, and unlike the two others he did not have a beard.

“Uhm, no. I said Hrothgar.”

“You’ve already mastered our tongue, the gift of the Gods is really remarkable,” the monk said. I turned my focus to him. He was black-haired as was the norm of this world but cut very short, just a bit longer than buzzcut. He was missing the left little finger on his hand, and the hand had what I suspected to be ink on the tips. In all other ways, he was unremarkable.

He noticed my gaze and immediate said, “Forgive my bluntness, Milord. I have studied the Divine Scriptures and the Prophecy for so long, to finally see it come to fruition is beyond my wildest imagination. Even if it means the world stands at the brink of destruction.”

“Yeah, we’re going to circle back to that,” I said. “What’s your name? And please get up.”

The last part was mostly directed at the women. They all started to get up slowly. The monk smiled and said, “I’m Etunalke, and I’ll be your advisor on all things Divine and scholarly.”

“Okay. Ethan it is,” I said.

“Simply remarkable how fast you’re grasping the pronunciation of our names,” Ethan said. “Are our languages very similar?”

Either they were making fun of me, or there was something magical going on. Maybe the divine gift that translated for me, and made me able to speak their language, automatically just made me say their names.

I paid extra attention to what sounds my mouth made, when I said, “Not at all, Ethan.”

‘Son of a gun. I’m actually pronouncing his name, not saying “Ethan”,’ I thought when I heard myself say Etunalke. That decided it. When they said their names I would just assign something to them, and drop trying to remember their weird names.

“Okay, so you’re three are all my advisors?” I said pointing at them.

I got a chorus of “Yes, Milord.” as a reply. Pointing at Hrothgar I asked, “And you’re here to be my military advisor. And you, what is your name and what will you be advising me about?”

The third man was dressed in a fine shirt and pants, almost as finely made as the kings’ clothes had been. He seemed to be older than Hrothgar, but his hair and big bushy beard were still completely black. He gave a little bow. “My name is Linus, and I will be advising you about court etiquette and magic.”

His name was over fifteen syllables long. I was not even going to try and remember it. That he was going to advise me about magic was interesting though. “What kind of magic can you do?”

“I am able to control the air, Milord. I’m what’s called an aeromancer,” Linus said and started floating in the air in front of me.

“Interesting. Now before we circle back to the Milord business, and what’s going on. What are you two doing here?” I asked the two ladies.

“They’re here to—” Ethan started to answer.

“Let them answer,” I snapped. Mostly to retain the dominant position in the room. I was afterall outnumbered.

The ladies kowtowed again. It was the old matron speaking, “Milord, you humble me to allow us to speak in your presence. My apprentice and I have a small magical talent for altering clothes and are here to make sure the wardrobe suits you, Milord.”

‘Great,’ I thought with a groan, ‘I’m stuck in some religious backward misogynistic place. Not what I need.’

I liked my females with a little more spunk in them. This subservience was grating on my nerves already. Occasionally in the bedroom, it would be fun, but not all the time. One of my old girlfriends was a full time submissive. She had been a lot of work to manage and keep happy.

“Okay, get off the floor and let’s get started,” I said and tried to take the shirt off. It was so tight I gave up and just ripped off. My advisors turned their back, and the matron looked down at the floor. So did the girl, but I caught her casting a few glances at me, especially on my manliness, which was well above average. I wondered for a second if it was so on this world as well. From the blushing she did, I would say it was a safe bet.

I walked over to the full-length mirror and took a good look at myself. The small mirrors in the cells meant I had not had a good look at myself in years. I knew my muscles had grown quite a bit since my incarceration, enough to make most fitness fanatics envious, but really taking in the full effect was nice. My light brown eyes took in the splendidness that was me.

My six-pack was pronounced, having lost the little amount of fat I had earlier. My muscles were getting a bit too big, because of the lack of variety of exercise equipment. I would need to focus on my agility a bit since I had lost a bit of the flexibility I had before.

Focusing on my face I dragged my hand across the black stubbles and thought growing a beard might be a good idea, since it seemed to be the standard on this world, or at least this kingdom. My dark brown hair was getting a bit shaggy, I usually wore it short, but it seemed long hair was the norm here, and to be honest I preferred it that way but kept it short to blend in better. Long hair was also a vulnerability to be exploited in a fight

My nose was a little bent from being broken too many times, and I had a scar running from my lower lip to my chin. I usually tell people I had gotten it a fight with a cop, but it was really an ex-girlfriend who was a bit psychotic who tried to cut my tongue out because I had lied about having to work on her parents anniversary. She managed to cut my face up pretty good, but my tongue remained intact.

The women had been rustling in the closets next to me while I took in my looks. They started pulling out tunics, pants and boots. All looking way too small for me. The older woman held up a tunic in front of me. It was a nicely crafted tunic of a burnished orange colour.

“No orange,” I said with a frown. The old woman looked frightened at the command.

“Milord. That is the colour of our King,” Linus said from where he stood, still with his back turned.

“No orange,” I repeated in a tone that brooked no discussion. I was never going to wear orange ever again.

“Milord,” the woman quickly said and put the tunic away before grabbing a dark green one. Her hands started glowing, and I felt a tingling caressing my skin. All along my arms, back, and torso, in the places a tunic would touch my skin if it fit. The same warm feeling like the energy in my body, except this was only the surface of my skin. Before my eyes, I saw the tunic starting to grow bigger.

Cocking my head in wonder, I asked, “Can you make the neck opening bigger? I hate feeling constricted.”

“Of course, Milord,” she said.

“Amaziiiiing,” I said, drawing out the ending when the same tingling started on my legs and manhood. The warm sensation made me draw out the word when it reached my balls. Looking down I saw the girl was holding a pair of pants up. She seemed to be paying more attention to the part of me that grew a little than the pants. A soft kick from the older woman made her shift focus though.

“Okay, now that all this is going on,” I said and looked in the mirror to keep an eye on the three stooges. “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on? Where am I? Why am I here? And what is it with all the lord crap? My name is Karth, not Milord.”

There was silence for a moment, and I could see they were looking at each other. Probably trying to figure out who should start and where. It was Hrothgar who started, “The Thirteen Kingdoms have in recent years entered into a war with the elves.”

“Elves?” I asked incredulously.

“Elves,” he replied seriously. I had listened to what he actually said and it was something weird, but it seemed the Divine Translator chose elves as the translation. Shrugging, I continued to listen to what he said, “The last war against the elves a hundred years ago resulted in massive land losses for the Kingdoms. Now the elves have started a war of genocide, as foretold in the Prophecy.”

Ethan picked up where Hrothgar left off. “The Prophecy foretells of the dark days when the end of Camcesa is at hand. It also foretells of great warriors from another world, summoned by the relic you saw at the Grand Cathedral.”

“Right, so you want me to fight against the elves,” I said. “But how the fuck can we help? We know nothing of your world, and most of the people you pulled over have probably never been a scrap, much less killed anyone.”

“The Prophecy foretells—” Ethan started again.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Prophecy yadda yadda yadda, kill the bad guys, win the glory,” I rudely interrupted him. “Okay, that’s why I’m here and what’s going on. I guess you said I was on a world called Camcesa, that takes care of the where. That leaves me with, what’s up with the whole lord bullshit then?”

“The Proph—” Ethan tried to say.

“Stop. The next time you start a sentence with The Prophecy, I will throw you out of a window. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Milord,” he gulped, while I could hear Hrothgar stifle a chuckle.

“And call my Karth, no more this Milord. Go on then, enlighten me.”

He tried to explain again, “The—the Kings and the High Hierophant decided that those summoned to fulfil the—help us in this war should be ennobled.”

“So I’m a nobleman now?” I asked.

Linus answered, “Not yet, but soon, Milord. You’ll be beholden to King Alfred, as will twelve other Chosen, which is what we call the lot of you. The King will assign you to one of his thirteen High Lords. If they so choose, the High Lord can you make you their heir and resign their title, or assign you to one of the thirteen Lords that serve them. Some of the minor holds sit empty because of casualties in the war, which means you will most likely take over one of those. In any case, you will marry into their family, and become a Lord or a High Lord.”

“You guys seem to have a thing for thirteen.”

“It’s in honour of the Thirteen Gods, the mightiest of whom is—” Ethan said proudly.

“We’ll get to the Gods later,” I said. “How am I supposed to make a difference in a war?”

Before they could answer, the matron handed me the tunic and pants. They had also grown a pair of boots to fit me. Smiling at both of them, but mostly at the young girl. “I’m impressed with what you did here. It was quite pleasant. Should we do more right away?”

“Sorry Milord, we only have a power rating of two, we need to rest before we can alter more clothes,” the matron said, looking crestfallen and a little afraid.

“It’s okay, we’ll do more later,” I said and they hurried out of the room as I got dressed. The clothes fit perfectly and the boots were amazingly soft. I felt like a new man.

While I was dressing, Hrothgar explained, “Milord, you’re expected to take over whatever holding you receive, and start managing it. You’ll be expected to pay taxes and provide a levy to help with any and all military operations in your area. At least to start with. At the moment the fighting is still happening on their side of the borders.”

“Wait if they started it, and you’ve pushed them back to their side of the border that means you’re winning. Why would you summon us then, doesn’t sound like you’re in danger of being wiped out?”

Hrothgar actually looked down embarrassed. “Actually we started the war of reconquest, Milord, and then the four Immortals declared a war of genocide against mankind.”

“The four Immortals are the leaders of the elves I take it?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Are they truly Immortal?”

Linus answered that one, “No one knows. No Immortal has ever died in the eight thousand year history of mankind and elves.”

“Great, this just gets better and better,” I muttered. Turning to them I said, “Listen, I’m hungry, and need some time to think. Can you have some food and drink sent up, and can we pick this up again later?”

“Of course Milord,” Hrothgar said with a bow. The other two bowed as well and started leaving. Hrothgar stopped for a moment and pulled out a large pouch which he handed me.

It was quite heavy, and it sounded like metal banging against metal when the pouch was jostled. I asked curiously, “What is this? And call me Karth.”

“Sorry, I cannot, Milord. And this is a thousand mark, so you can buy equipment, serfs, and hire the services of some mancers. The King leaves for home in two days, meaning you have time to do some shopping. Later today, I will introduce you to the platoon of soldiers assigned to you,” he explained before leaving.

I threw the pouch on one recliner and dropped into the other. I had a lot to think about and process.