The prison door swung open. Light poured into the large holding cell, and so did a swarm of guards forcing the prisoners into a corner.

“Not good” said a prisoner still in beggars clothes falling apart at the seams backing into the man behind him and almost falling over.

“My bad there sir sorry” said the taller prisoner in a trench coat with odd looking hands and feet.

“Shut yer traps at once!” screamed the head guard glaring into the crowd.

The dungeon master entered the room doing the yellow salute.

“Greetings. You lucky lot have been chosen by the crown for a transfer to a new much more accommodating location. You will be separated into groups of 12 by name at once, and transferred via prison carriage. That is all.” said the dungeon master.

He did a little bowing before going as quickly as he had arrived to the next prison on his list.

“Pssst” whispered a small voice from the bottom of the trench coat.

Mickey looked down at the other leprechaun he stood on with an angrily questioning face. He stuck his head under the coat to talk privately with his brother.

“Are we still going to find some way out of this?” cried Ratom once the covers above had been sealed.

“When the opportunity presents itself, and if you don’t blow our cover brother” scolded the oldest.

The head stuck back out of the trench just as the line in front had begun to filter out of the holding cell.

“One foot over the other foot, times to get moving, another foot to our stop” sang Mickey as Ratom struggled with the weight of both of them forward.

The group that had been held together a month inside the walls of the crown's detention den number 5 found themselves broken into two after shuffling into the loading zone. This was a barb fenced zone with many towers having many archers on top guarding, many more exploding bombs hidden on the other side of the fence, and with many more bombs that could be dropped above by the watching gaurd blimps.

“Into this car at once gentlemen” said a guard escorting them into their locked room.

The first man into the car let off a cough as more funneled into the dark stink inside. The smell of sulfur, rotting eggs, defecation, and dead flesh all combined. It could have been anything that had previously died, but good chance it was once a prisoner of the crown. The opened doors behind them let in just enough light to see half way inside. As one of the first to board Mickey, and Ratom found themselves pressed to the back wall covered in shadows.

“Watch where you step, I'm sitting here, '' a voice slowly managed to wheeze out from the dark.

“Well get up then, and make room,” said Ratom.

“Can’t do anything Leprechaun. If only you could see how broken I am. I’m afraid all that’s holding my organs in is a bit of tape, plaster, and glue” sighed the voice.

"That's not good" blurted Mickey.

"Oh I see there's more leprechauns in here well nice to meet you. I'm Humpy Dumpy or used to be before they broke me" he said.

Overhearing this the prisoners remained silent after until they were all aboard. A guard quickly slid the door shut, and then loudly bolted it from outside. One of many prison cars on the slow moving jail train that would be taking them to the teleportation center. Nicknamed the crazy train because the first 6 cars were dedicated to transportation of those from the royal nut house.

The logistics nightmare that required transporting the prisoners instead of just teleporting them straight from the prisons themselves had been hotly debated amongst the royals. The Queen had been in favor of building a teleport pad next to every execution chamber, but sometimes even royalty couldn’t always get what they wanted. Simply there was no possible way to build more than a few teleportation centers with the materials the empire had. In fact the crown was growing low on many, many materials. The metals forged by the blacksmiths into weapons in every city, and collected to be equipped on every soldier who came from every village was running critically low on supply. The technology needed to transport the required crystals back from the core to make the expenses yet worth it at the moment were not even close to be realized. Yet despite the warning signs the Queen, and most of the Princes and Princesses had increasingly called for an increase the budget for core colonization.

“This is an opportunity that easily meets any risk. Every Empire must colonize for resources, while any logistics issues will spur on better technology for us all” said Snaggy.

He had come back from the Queen's core castle in order to keep an eye on the Capitol City council. There were many a secret eye already observing them, but the difference with Snaggy doing it out in the open was that it improved behavior, and corruption when combined with all her other levers of control.

“Yes it’s understandable we all get it, but do understand we will have to make some rather difficult decisions should the food and water fall enough to jeopardize the stability here” said the Slyman council leader from the end of the massive feasting table.

Snaggy had not been invited to eat. He, being a man of high efficiency, has come in any way to share his orders before moving on to the next task assigned. The leaders thought they had successfully avoided the fool all day, but he had decided to show up when everyone had gathered together. The council collectively ripped and teared into their giant bird meat, drowning out any further words with Shlock , and the sound of mouthfuls of food. A servant carried in a tray of smoked larva, and cocoons sitting it down at the head of the table. He immediately picked the empty silver tray, and went for another order in the kitchen. Snaggy waited patiently beside the leader for another word. Eventually the eyes on the back of the Slyman's head began to draw him mad seeing the jester watching him eat.

“What else does she want?” he cried spitting all over the fool out of deliberate malice.

“That I clean this place up and act as the royals sole representative directly straight from the new Capital City in the core. At once the crown has ordered all scrolls,maps, and signs be changed to reflect this transition of power. This city will now be known as City Number 9.” said Snaggy.

Fear briefly flashed in many eyes as all stopped eating.

“So what does it mean for us then?” quivered the head.

The door opened as the Knights entered standing behind the Jester.

“To prevent any power struggles you will each be separately moved to different councils all around the lands in order to help the kingdom prosper the best it can. Now please come with the Knights. They each have a different letter for each of you with instructions. So find your match” said Snaggy.

All silent as the chairs were dragged out from the table gently by the now standing council. Landowners of considerable property holdings who to versus degrees of reluctance followed their orders with little other choice in the matter.

When the Queen had captured the zombie girl reincarnated from the dead in the core after being killed off by Prince Edward she had done an interview for information. It also turns out they dead didn’t feel any pain, have much of any useful information, and a brain full of mush. So the Queen grew bored and dropped the zombie of the ice castle into the lava that had been brought in by the slaves for this exact purpose. Now the ice dungeons were empty, all the other plots were in motion, and all there was to do was wait. The Queen sat alone on her throne of crystal watching out the frosted window. Soon another of her heirs would be kicking the bucket. She would have to reproduce spawn again to make up for all her fallen angels, but this meant a new king was needed. Men were useless, and she had grown to hate them. The solution was to look for something better like an Elf, or similar. As long as it wasn’t a dwarf, leprechaun or other being too short in stature.

Elizebethy the 6th turned to the banquet table loaded with cut crystal power. All the furniture had been moved to stack boxes of more crystal along all the walls while snow covered most of the floor. At the head of the table enough powder had been sucked away in order to fit a small plate of peppers, and a jar of Yarrb milk. Taking a seat the Queen bit the head off a pepper, took a sniff, and washed it all down with a gulp of the thick cold milk beginning to freeze. She laughed. It was obviously a bad idea to make more competition for the throne when she would find a way to live forever, and ever.