Luckily the explosion was not directly on base. Instead it was a mushroom cloud a ways off. And by that, it was an explosion with a shockwave that slammed into the base rocking the shield. Micky was up on the wall shortly after. He may not be a centurion anymore but he wasn’t formally discharged yet, if ever. He may even be discharged in disgrace, it was a decision that was out of his hands.

But the gathered armies, and they were indeed true armies, of uncountable soldiers, that were battling headless of the fort nearby. The two armies were identifiable by the cloths they wore as opposed to the togas of the Aene, who was influenced by the more southern countries; what these wore was something called a chengpo, much more fitting for colder climates.

So when a commanding officer mentioned “Clanners” with a cursed breath Micky only nodded in understanding. “Hold fire!” Screamed the prince, not that anybody was firing to begin with. Nobody really wanted to piss off the clanners, as it was clear that they had much more firepower. This was clearly a battle that was beyond them, maybe not Aene itself, but those stationed here. In the midst of it all was a tiny little dot, it was running around and escaping from the other figures 'magically’ or more accurately mystifyingly. Clearly, it was a hero, clearly, they found something interesting, clearly Aene wasn’t going to get involved with removing something powerful, probably dangerous, and probably shouldn’t be left in the hands of some novis or two groups of people that were likely to use it. Heck it could be a nother necronomicon for all they knew! Not something they wanted to deal with.

Granted the fortifications had been built up for a while now, clearly establishing a foothold in the gap for further expansion. Aene could deal some large damage to one or possibly both sides. This was why they weren’t getting involved. Because dealing with clanners or heroes was always bad news. You fight them? They burn down you kingdom and everyone you ever knew or loved in vengeance for any random slight. You fight with them? They get everything you’ve ever known or loved killed, only making it worse by promising to get revenge as you’re crying over their corpse… also probably bringing the downfall of your nation and possibly continent. The only people that win with heroes are the bystanders since they simply stay out of the way.

Another fireball flew through the field. This time, thankfully, it landed in the midst of the other side. It appeared that while both sides were fighting over the hero they were almost more interested in fighting each other. Though why they weren’t leveling that firepower against the hero itself is another thing altogether. But Aene never truly understood the clanners or the heroes even if it calls several their citizens.

This time giant blocks of ice flew back and forth. Then an errant fireball flew towards the fort shielding. Only it wasn’t really errant since the direction of the battle was fairly clearly far away. “Ok, launch an attack on anyone that tries to drag us into that mess, but make sure that they know we are not getting involved.” Stated the Prince.

Launching a ballista bolt into the group that were being ‘smart’ Aene kept the rest of their ballista trained on the battlefield but unlaunched. The small explosion and screams that echoed at satisfaction for a job well done. Unfortunately that reminded the hero that there was civilisation and ‘safety’ over there. And the good natured guards wouldn’t steal his things and would stranten out this small misunderstanding with these clanners they stole whatever prize of theirs from out under the noses of.

“No, no no no no no!” Yelled the 11th. “Fire a bolt in front of that little shit, make sure he knows not to come here with a tale, or preferably at all!”

After a few bolts the hero got the message ‘we aren’t going to kill you, but don’t bring your mess here’. It seemed this angered the hero slightly but they didn’t want to add more trouble to their mess so they changed direction. This brought sighs of relief to the fort as they didn’t want to deal with this mess. They might survive, but… There were some elder grandpas over there throwing around tactical level spells like arrows, definitely not something the fort could deal with for long. Probably not long enough to get reinforcements. Simply put, not something they wanted to, or could, deal with. And that’s assuming that the fort could withstand either one of those armies.

This didn’t matter to Micky though, nor the other ‘errant’ strikes from other ‘smart’ clanners. These were met in kind by more ballista fire. Again this didn’t matter as right now he was cradling his broken arm from the fall. The first strike had rumbled and shook the protective formation enough that the shockwave sent him flying. Now falling from five stories up Micky is sure to die. Until a gentle feminine arm wrapped around him and wrapped him up in a tight green hug. Micky was lucky that she wasn’t wearing here armor and instead this soft enveloping hug would have been a brutal rock meating hard place situation.

Prin looked down at Micky with determination as she landed hard. Even with her physical stats it was a hard landing, though survivable. Micky however, broke his arm in the fall and now he needed to get into medical.

Prin limped with him into the medical tent, not being a high priority for construction but in the top priority for actually having a building. “Health potion is in the pitcher pour yourself a glass and sit down!” Called out from behind a desk. Then the orderly [Nurse] or whatever ran inside with some documents. Micky abstained as getting healing for his arm without properly setting it would be detrimental to the actual healing, Prin took a mug full though, and grimaced at the taste, she hated strawberry, why was it always strawberry? What the heck was a strawberry? Why couldn’t it be a normal fruit like blue berry?

Micky was contemplating the fact that the potion, low grade at best as it was, would soon have its efficacy dropped to nothing in less than a day, probably half. His logical conscious was telling him that they probably didn’t need much more, and probably were already brewing up the next batch before this one was done. His alchemist was screaming that it was inefficient and that it was a waste of good potions!

Neither side won the argument before he was seen by a [Light Mage] that could heal wounds in spite of light having nothing to do with it, eh, science shouldn’t dictate magic. He was soon brought in by the blood covered light mage, correction [Apprentice Light Mage]. He sat down on a stool and the apprentice had the gall to ask what the problem was. Micky politely gestured to his arm… with his other arm.

The tired light mage looked at his arm not comprehending, then he mumbled something about why he was the one to take unimportant cases like this and why there wasn’t a nurse or something available and why they needed a light mage for this shit. He quickly performed a once over, determined that there was nothing truly wrong or needed his expert opinion and called over a nurse and a physician's assistant.

The nurse an [PRN] got to work while the physician’s assistant a tier 2 class of its own a [PA] took a deeper look at things to make sure that nothing was truly wrong, doing a follow up to make sure there were no complications or internal injuries, and confirmed the [Apprentice Light Mage]’s prognosis. He then helped the nurse with straightening out the arm, painful as it was, and getting it set and ready to be healed. “It’ll probably take 2-3 days to finish healing, accelerated by healing potions so long as you don’t get sick and overtax your body. Don’t overdo it as that will cause organ failure and your body to shut down.” Stated the [PA]. Giving Micky some slow acting but strong [Slow Health Potion] that would be more gentle than the battle health potions they sent him on his way as they really did have much worse thing to deal with… like magical accidents, those never ended well, even when they sometimes ended ‘well’ and a new spell was born, like [Polymorph Sheep]!