Saiyan

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

I am back, I finally have a PC. But I'm so far behind I dunno how I'll make up for lost time. What has happened so far?

Edit: I'll step back if need be, considering you got new peeps. Sorry for being gone so long it took awhile to get a computer.

@Dark Cloud

lesgooo! wb bruv

<Snipped quote by AvaP>

Zell will be mad you're muscling in on his territory :P

@Zapdos

all good lol i got plenty of material for Zell so I concede all territory on that front to our new rogue

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

After his question, Zell and the woman who'd poured his drink locked eyes. Green versus blue - cold, bombadier blue eyes. Now that she'd pulled her mask down, Zell could see her properly. She was an older lady, maybe around Fenna's age, with a look about her that suggested cool confidence and control. Zell felt like his soul was pierced in the eternal silence that she left between them as he waited for her answer, but his own gaze was unwavering. Then she grinned and Zell decided instantly that he liked her.

"Because, Zell Brooks, like you I was given a... second chance." That threw him through a loop. Not the fact that she knew his name or his party - that much was a given for the leader of a crew like this, plus; it's not like Second Chance's name wasn't everywhere right now, not least because of his own rumour-spreading, storytelling and bar-room bragging. It was the implication of her words that hit him hardest.

She went on to tell her own story and more explicitly state that she was also from another world. Zell wanted to interject and call 'bullshit' but if she was lying then she deserved a damn Oscar for this performance. "...And then, Pete here gives me good info. Tells me about you, about your little group. Second Chance. Cute name. I like it."

..............Which one of us thought up that name, again? Zell thought. Deep in his mind, the image of a figure silouetted by shadow, struggled in their chains. And the shackles cracked audibly, threatening to buckle and break................

"Tells me that your infamous little band of heroes are actually like me, not from this world. That you are people who died and woke up in this, bizarre fairy tale of a world. Where undead roam the lands, wizards cast spells, and the very souls of people can be trapped in infinite time loops of despair and horror. What fun!"

"Fucking fun indeed," Zell agreed, ignoring her tone of sarcasm. "I'm having a right old time."

"But I wasn't having any," she finished, not quite feeling the same sentiment.

One of her crew objected, making Zell aware that this woman, whoever she was, had been through a lot to get to this point. There wasn't a question if he believed her or not. It was just crazy that there were more of them. Just how many folks had these Mytherians kidnapped from the universe next door!?

"...earlier today I finally got my first real piece of that puzzle." Alison sighed, thinking about the encounter. "I met that lovely French girl, Mackenzie..."

And there she was - that silouetted figured cloaked in shadow, in the back of Zell's mind... Baphomet growled in frustration as the darkness he'd worked so hard to put over her was banished and the shackles around her wrists shattered and splintered with the sound of broken glass. MacKensie Trydant. Outside of his mind and in the actual tavern with the crew of rogues, Zell's features softened at the sound of her name. MacKensie - the lion's share of the reason he could keep so grounded and sane in this insane world. He pictured her smile and laugh, the bittersweet mix of the euphoria of being around her and the guilt that he'd ever think of betraying his team.

He'd missed a little of what the rogue leader was saying but not too much and caught back onto the conversation quickly. "It seems Mackenzie's praise wasn't misplaced. She genuinely cares about all of you."

The Englishman nodded. "She has enough heart for the whole world, that girl."

"So unfortunately fur us lot, that damn blondie bewitched our boss ere with those cute laughs and honey words about yous and now we stuck in this town. Bastard you are, ya know that? Well meanin bastard, but yous a bastard right through." one of the crew said, throwing a friendly punch into Zell's shoulder.

Zell's trademark one-sided grin appeared. "You ain't wrong, mate. This hero-business doesn't come natural, I'll tell you that much."

Another of them gave a soft laugh and praised Zell's loyalty, reaffirming that the entire crew were very-much in the know of everything that was going on, including the stakes of it all, and actually testing him this whole time. Bloody spies, Zell thought not-unkindly. They're good, I'll give them that.

The leader nodded to them both before crossing her arms and staring back at Zell. "Well, there you have it buddy. Your answer. So the next question now has a much harder answer..."

"How do we save this ship from sinking?"

Zell let out a breath. "Christ, we're better off giving out swimming lessons," was his first comment. "Nah, fuck it, we stand tall and proud and fight to the last man. I've not had a chance to speak in-depth with Commander Thorn just yet, but I imagine his plan is to defend the walls, then fall back to choke-points in the streets , finally taking a small stand at Little Bridge, then retreating up the hill." He scratched the back of his head as he thought. He was getting a lot more used to all of the foriegn knowledge of melee combat and battle tactics that were growing in his head with every Ascension. "The walls of the city are trash for a defence, they've got nothing but a couple o' towers here n there, but the Citadel Mountain is pretty defensible. The enemy outnumber us 3 to 1, at least. And that's just the infantry. It gets worse when comparing cavalry and mages. And they have necromancers too, so we have to be even more careful about throwing away our forces on bad positions. If Commander Thorn is smart, we don't spend much time at each checkpoint. Hit n Run, and make our best stand on the mountain. Let the city burn."

On another subject. "I don't like this idea that the city officials think they can wait until the last minute to evacuate the city and bring the people up the mountain though. I know they're going for efficiency and conservation of rations for being trapped up top, but they're playing with fire. The civilians should'a been squeezed up there, like, yesterday."

Zell and the crew of rogues talked until the sun came up, eventually getting Alison's name and shaking her hand for a proper introduction. He found himself quite at home amongst Thieves Guild associates and was surprised that The Source didn't give him the Rogue Class instead of Fighter, but he guessed that it was to put his gym-bro background to good use. And it was like Olaf had said earlier; Zell was heavy and clumsy when it came to sneaking about, which was likely a huge set-back in the job role of a Rogue. Nevertheless, he liked the Alison's eclectic crew and got along with them swimmingly.

"Well, I better go get a few hours of sleep," Zell said, standing up. "I'll see you at lunchtime for 'our first meeting,'" he smiled at Alison. Of course, they would act like they'd never met, later today when MacKensie introduced Alison to the gang. "A pleasure working with you all. Always nice to be amongst professionals. See you around."

And with that, he left the Brass Monkey and made his way back to The Mended Drum, hoping that he could slip inside and get to bed without bumping into anyone and having to explain where he'd been all night.

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

The midnight streets were empty. Quiet too, save for the explosions of the artillery fire hitting the barrier high above. Zell moved in step with the Ambassador, silent - his mind occupied with a straight-up tug of war between his selfish half and his selfless half. Not surprisingly, Mr Selfless had not exercised nearly as much as Mr Selfish, who was jacked as hell, but the skinny little twerp was making it a fight.

As they hit the crossroads of Beam Street North and Beam Street East, the Ambassador whispered for halt under the streetlight. Zell looked moodily at him, confused and rather peturbed that they would stop on the most illuminated spot in the bloody street. A moment later, a man could be seen approaching them. Zell inquired about what the hell was going on and got his answer. The Ambassador had flip-flopped last minute and re-hired his original bodyguard.

"What? Why?" Zell pressed. "I told you he was a waste of money."

"Watch your mouth, boy," the bodyguard threatened gruffly.

Zell looked at him like he was an idiot. "And how do you suppose I do that, then, eh? Take my fucking eyeballs out and turn em around? Do us a favour keep your trap shut while the grown-ups talk."

"Stop it, you two," was the harsh reprimand from the Ambassador. Then he explained to Zell. "I know you said that the West Road to Cherrad was safe, but... but I'd still rather not walk it in the dark."

Zell shook his head, annoyed and exasperated. "Whatever. S'your money."

...

The Thieves Guild was an outfit of bonafide pros, to be sure. Zell observed this as he watched them operate, slick and clean like some kind of Black Ops Unit. Second Chance's frontliner kept his mouth shut and his eyes and ears open from the moment they'd stepped into The Brass Monkey - a rare time when the idiot knew better than to be yapping like he owned the place. A very rare moment. But, after being taken to and ushered through the tunnel, the trio of the Ambassador, Zell and the bodyguard stopped at the exit and Zell needed to speak up.

"We need to get onto the West Road," Zell told Seal Team 6. "Our client is aiming for Cherrad." He was informed that they would be in the woods, at the foothills, southeast of the city walls. When Zell commented that finding his way back was going to be rough, a guildmember - one of the two women - gave him a pouch of rainbow glint stones to make a breadcrumb trail, instructing him to make sure that he picks them all up on the way back. "Clever. Ppreciate ye, boss."

Out into the open air and south they went, crossing the river and entering the southern hills that bordered The Mazy Hillocks. Zell made sure to put a stone down at regular intervals, in wellplaced spots where junctures or multiple paths might confuse him. All the while they slowly progressed around to the westside of the city. The hours went by, all the while Zell tortured himself as his two sides argued.

You're too sentimental. You're too stupid. What about your friends? You barely know them. We fought shoulder to shoulder for our lives. Because you had to, not because you wanted to. Would a hero leave now? A hero would live to fight a battle that could be won and possibly save Mytheria, not throw his life away.

And it went on.

Zell eventually made a decision. He stopped putting down rainbow glint stones. He had no more need of them.

No sense in dying for nothing.

It hurt. It hurt so bad. But he knew that ripping off the band-aid always did. This was more like excising a tumor - a ball of emotions and feelings towards a bunch of strangers. A ball that would kill him. Every time one of Second Chance's faces entered his mind, he banished it quickly, filling his brain with other thoughts.

I wonder what Capitol City looks like, he pondered, moving a bushle of branches aside and holding them to let the Ambassador and the bodyguard past. The dirt path through the hills had become thin, but he remembered it being like this when he and his frien- he and the people he was with had needed to sneak back into the city. Fuck this whole 'tryna find out the truth' thing. I'm better off just making a life for myself. I died in that world. What the fuck do I care why I got a Secon- why I'm here now.

They made it onto the West Road and Zell let out a breath. "This is it," Zell told them. "I've changed my mind. I'm coming with." The Ambassador looked quizzically at him. "Don't ask."

Fortunately the other two didn't press him and everyone just started walking. Zell wouldn't have been able to take being questioned at this moment. He just wanted to get as far away as possible, so he didn't have to think about it anymore.

We'll be fine, he told himself. We'll be better than fine. We'll be great.

"Wait," Zell stopped not fifty yards down the road. The Ambassador and the bodyguard were once again eyeing Zell expectantly. "We?"

"Excuse me?" the Ambassador inquired.

You'll be fine, Zell thought. I said, 'We.' No, I didn't. Yes, I did.

"It's you, isn't it," Zell said, an accusatory tone as he looked at the Ambassador. The old man recoiled in confusion, but Zell wasn't talking to him. He was talking to Baphomet. "I should'a fucking known. You never shut up normally. Suddenly you go quiet?"

I'm trying to help you, Zell thought. Although, now he knew that it wasn't his own thought. Baphomet had evolved his game and was now using Zell's inner voice instead of his own. How long for, who could say? But Zell suspected it was the moment on the Ambassador's bed when he got that strange headache.

"I've gotta admit... you almost had me," Zell tried to say it in a cocky tone, but it came out weak and bitter. He was so tired of this game. Then he realised that the other two men with him were wide-eyed and wondering what the hell was going on. "You two go. I'm going back."

"Err," the Ambassador was a little wobbled but recovered to say, "I will not forget what you've gone out of your way to do for me, Zell Brooks. May the Quinity smile down on Valhiem in this desperate time."

Zell gave a lazy salute. "Best of luck, lads." And with that, he turned back the way they'd come.

There was no need for the wave of uncertainty that hit him when trying to find his way back to the last rainbow glint stone he'd dropped. It wasn't hard to get to as the path had become so one-way towards the end. Relief filled him when the moonlight bounced off the stone and into his vision and that uncertain part of him turned into anger that he was actually dumb enough to be going back. The city had done nothing to deserve his sacrifice and...

"Will you fuck off," Zell muttered to Baphomet. "It's not gonna work."

To be honest, a part of him (an actually true part of him this time) was repimanding himself for being a daft, sentimental twat. But it was an endearing reprimand. He smiled as he now thought of the faces of his friends. If they were going to die, so be it. At least they would die together. Looking out for eachother. Ultimate trust.

Fenna. James. Adam. MacKensie. Clive. Barracker............................. My comrades to the end.

Second Chance.

Picking up the last stone, he stepped over the tree roots and move through a bush, coming out the other side and looking around uncertainly for the tunnel entrance. A short whistle got his attention and he moved toward it, finding the tunnel and going in. What had to be four or five hours and of hoofing it on uneven ground was finally over. His ankles were hurting but not nearly as much as his head was.

"Fuck, I need a pint. Badly," he said to no one in particular, but looked towards the masked woman afterward. "Are the taps still on? If they're not, I'll pay you triple to pour me one beer. I'm begging."

When they got back to the Brass Monkey, Zell sat at the bar, realising the time. It was almost dawn. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes as he tried to soothe his headache. When he got his beer, "You're a star, boss," he offered up a gold piece.

After downing a good portion of the pint, he smacked his lips. "Ahhh, that hit the spot." He put the tankard down and grabbed the pouch of rainbow glint stones off his belt, putting them on the counter. He needed to return them, but his thoughts were everywhere, at this moment. "You know," he started to the rogue who poured his pint. "I gotta be the dumbest bastard alive. I just..." He shook his head as he stared at his pint, then looked up at the rogue. "I couldn't leave it like this - ye know? Even if all is lost - I'd rather live a few days as a Lion, than ten thousand more as a Snake."

"What about you?" Zell ended up asking. "Why are you still here? You've got the keys to the tunnel. Why stay?"

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

@Jay009@AvaP dem last posts dough

jeremiahjohnson.gif

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

Zell was sat on the grass against a tree, on the slopes at the foot of Citadel Mountain. He was far enough from the road and onto the green that no one would spot him, but his own view was within range of Little Bridge. For him, the time couldn't go fast enough. Ironically, it was the total opposite; time was moving like molasses. Midnight was still some time away and he had nothing to do. There was no sense in going up the mountain early. It would be extremely difficult to be inconspicious just loitering around the upper district. Someone would be bound to notice his presence and more likely to either ask questions or remember him tomorrow, when news of the Ambassador's disappearance was out and police started an investigation. He didn't want to hang around at The Mended Drum either. He'd rather not be seen at all, by his friends, than seen leaving the inn when midnight neared. It was best that none of them knew about this little tangeant into illicit escapades.

In this gap in his schedule - this moment of solitude - Zell expected to hear from Baphomet. It was clear that the Devil was no longer confined to the dream world, as he was before. Zell could sense him, like a weight on his mind, or when you can feel someone watching you, or the congestion of the air in a room full of gangsters. Actually - all of the above. But the Prince of the Oblivion Plane didn't say a word, not once. Strange.

He pondered the battle ahead. So far, he'd shown nothing but his usual brand of unassailable confidence. Unbreakable Zell Brooks.

'Mentality Monsters' as he and his football team used to call themselves. Macho dumbasses was what they were, in truth.

'Screw the odds, Second Chance had dealt with everything else Mytheria had to throw at them.' In truth: Mytheria had killed two of them, disappeared another two and nearly broke the spirit of their youngest, Adam.

'We are the Lions, hear us roar?' A third of their one hundred were mere cubs. A few were fucking kittens.

Zell rubbed his cheek as he absent-mindedly watched a troop of guards cross the little bridge in the distance. "Valhiem's circling the drain," he muttered to himself. "They'd have to be perfect. Every external factor in their favour. Every star to align. And even then, victory would be a miracle."

The truth hurt. What's worse was that he couldn't even tell his friends. Not for fear of looking like a coward, although that certainly played a small part in the equation. He couldn't tell them because Second Chance had been the source of a spark of morale in the city, these past few days. What if the truth was the straw that broke the camel's back - what if his words stole their shine and stopped them from shining on Valhiem? "Certain death for everyone. From a 1% chance to win, to zero."

A General who knows when and when not to fight, never loses. Valhiem was a terrible choice to make a stand. The walls didn't even have ballista towers or built-in mage towers reinforced with ritual metamagic; Bolster, Extend, Quicken, Heighten... they weren't even prepared in spite of being virtually on the front lines of the war. The people in charge of this place were fucking idiots. They should have evacuated Valhiem well before now. Retreated west. Especially when the fortress in the north started drawing all the strength from the region. "Frogs in slowly boiling water, content with the warmth," Zell spat bitterly. "Christ, what lunacy."

Zell shook his head. The lights were red when he got hit by that bus, at the end of his last life. (A fact that he consistently reminded himself of, everyday he'd been in Mytheria.) It wasn't a mistake to cross that street. Just an accident caused by a shitty driver. This time; the lights are green. Bright fucking green. Inescapable emerald. Super celadon. Loud lime.

And there was enough time to make a decision. In fact, there was an Ambassador literally showing him how to not be a lemming. No excuses.

This time, it would be all on him, if he chose to step onto the road.

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

"So, in my father's day it was just, 'The Drum.' Back then, the place was more akin to The Brass Monkey a real rowdy lot." Zell sat thoroughly entertained as he ate his dinner at the bar in Second Chance's home away from home. "Then, one day - back when the Cherryball fan rivalry was at it's height - a brawl broke out, I mean crazy-like. As the Quinity as my witness, I swear I ain't never saw nothing like it. Musta been half a hundred men beating the ever-loving snot out of eachother. Fists, feet, furniture, even weapons and magic got used. Mass arrests, casualties - a bloke even died. The death was an accident of course. Nobody's ever trying to commit murder over the sport of Cherryball, but passion got the better of everyone that day."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me, bruv," Zell said with a full mouth. He swallowed his mouth-full of food with one noticeably painful gulp, then continued. "Back where I'm from, it's the same with Football. It's practically a religion and I ain't ashamed to admit it. I bleed Chelsea FC."

Frederick tilted his head in understanding. "Then we understand eachother. I bleed Eastenders Cherryball Warriors." They both grinned. "But that day, 'The Drum' was rightly named 'The Broken Dum,' for all the damage the building came out with. Had that name for about a year or two. Took a while to get eveything all fixed up while, at the same time, keeping the business afloat. Cost my father his hair in stress. I took over and started banning all the Cherryball goons. Banned the wearing of colours... everything. Eventually, the mobs took their business elsewhere and the clientele began to change into what you see today. Now it's 'The Mended Drum.'"

"Ha! That's a fucking great story, boss." Zell looked around. "You've done a right good job with the place. I'm into this kinda vibe, meself. I mean; fuck, I'll roll around in the mud when situation calls for it, sure. But in my old line of work, happy drunks buy a lot more drugs than angry drunks. And I'm more of a lover than a fighter, personally."

Frederick raised his eyebrows and bounced back, "That Source Crystal says otherwise!"

"Ha! Got me there, I suppose." Zell conceded. He went back to his food as Frederick shifted over to serve another customer. Zell smiled to himself as he ate, putting forth the case in his mind that he really wasn't the fighting type, back home. He was a fairly disciplined athlete. He didn't eat crap, he didn't do drugs. He was no coward, but he did have 'Muscle' he could call upon when shit hit the fan. His only weakness was girls and beer, but he never let those things misalign his focus when it came to football or his miniture drug empire. And when he recently got his act together and started studying properly, he didn't even let football or his operation get in the way of that. Zell Brooks was a goofball, no doubt about it, but when he set his mind to something, there was no stopping him.

A much simpler time, Zell remembered with melancholy. Fuck, I miss London.

It seemed like forever ago, he'd been through so much since. And right now, things were anything but simple. He wanted to apologise to James, for wasting his time with that ritual - to tell his best friend that if they could just wait until after the big battle, he would be ready-like-Eddy to give up The Black Sword. He wanted so badly to confront MacKensie about what happened on their non-date - how it all ended, the morning after - but he knew she would hear no part of it.

And you want to leave with The Ambassador. Leave your friends. Seek greener pastures. Because you know that is the best course of action.

Zell shook those thoughts away, not even sure if those thoughts were his own or Baphomet's. It made sense. He had a way out of this desperate situation. And he had made a friend in Ambassador Malcom Crane who might give him a leg-up onto the political ladder. The temptation was grating in the back of his mind.

One thing about Baphomet - love him or hate him - was that: He was right more often than not.

Fuck.

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

@Zoolyooooo Mrs Zool lesgooo!

damn, so the double agent isn't the ambassador. Just Adam with another



lol

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

impressivebateman.gif

confident, ethics bender, protective of team. not sure she will like Zell but he will definitely like her lol

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

Zell picked up the solo glass sitting on the tray, on the table, eyeing it briefly before setting it down and picking up the bottle.

"Empty. He likes a drink," Zell muttered. He unscrewed the lid and sniffed. "Brandy. Good taste."

Moving on, he found some papers on a cabinet and scanned each one. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

It was when he went into the bedroom that he actually came across some pertinent information. It didn't take much snooping to find the packed bags under the bed. "Well, well, well." Zell dragged them out and had a feeling he knew what he was about to find. He was right. Clothes, a few rations and some toiletries. "Looks like our Ambassador is planning a holiday. And there's only one way out of this city, as it stands."

He searched the bags for letters or documents but found nothing. No money either, which made no sense. Even if he'd already paid the Thieves Guild for the extraction, didn't mean he wouldn't need a few quid to get back to Capitol City, or wherever he was going. After searching the rest of the bedroom and coming up with nothing, he stood up straight and put a finger and thumb on his chin as he thought hard for moment. His eyes wandered until he his eyes landed on the thing he didn't even realise he was looking for.

A painting on the wall was tilted slightly, showing a slither of the wallpaper behind, which was a shade lighter, having been normally protected from dust when the frame was straight and in it's proper placement. "Aha." He went over and unhooked the painting off the wall, revealing... "Bingo." ...a safe.

Zell was no safecracker, but he did have a pretty good lockpick on his person. He drew his sword and held it with two hands in a stance that prepared for a stabbing attack. "Take Vor..." This would take some precision - a stab just above locking mechanisms, bringing the sword downwards as he withdrew. "...Baphomet."

<Sssing>

The quick, fluid motion. Razor sharp technique. Speed and precision. And of course, the steel alloy of dark iron and oricalchum went through the heavy safe like it was nothing.

Zell smiled darkly as he sheathed his sword and pulled the safe door open, the sliced metal lock-bolts falling and clattering on the wooden floorboards as he did so. And there were the prizes; a pouch full of platinum and gold, and a bunch of documents and envelopes. He sat down on the bed, using a pillow for his back, at the headboard, and putting his feet up, crossing an ankle over the other. Suddenly he got a... well, not a pain... but something... a feeling deep in his skull. It was strange, he couldn't do anything but put a hand to his temple as he was taken by it. Then the presence of Baphomet could be felt. As if the Devil was sat behind Zell eyes and watching the world through the Englishman's vision. This was a worrying development. Baphomet wasn't usually around until Zell was sleeping.

There was no time to contemplate the matter any further, as sounds could be heard coming from downstairs. Zell perked up. Someone had come in. And they were heading up the stairs.

"Crap." Zell looked around for a hiding spot and saw the wardrobe. He jumped off the bed and quickly went over, opening the doors and seeing the cramped little space. "Double crap." He was not fitting in there. Not quickly and quietly, at any rate. He had to get out of this room, but now the footsteps were closing in on this floor. It was the Ambassador!

After realising that hiding was not an option, Zell quickly decided on the kind of play he would make here. Fortunately, it was one from the playbook that fit his strengths. So, he quickly shut the bedroom door, went back to the bed and reassumed his relaxed demeanour with his feet up and a document in his hand. On the other side of the door, Zell could hear the Ambassador moving around his living room area, here and there, until finally the footsteps came closer to the bedroom. Zell pretended to be reading as the door opened and looked up with mild surprise, like one of those corny commercials. He even said the line. "Oh, hi. Didn't see you there. You must be wonderin-"

He didn't even get to finish his meme as the Ambassador, horrified, took a step backward and then turned to run. And turn he did, but he ran and bumped right into the chest of Zell who had teleported behind him, bouncing off the taller, heavier swordsman. Zell had only used his teleport twice in battle, (once by accident,) but since figuring it out, it was quickly becoming useful in non-combat situations too.

"Calm down, will ye," Zell said, as if offended that the man would react in such a way to finding some stranger sat on his bed. The Ambassador backed up, terrified and fell back on the bed into a sitting position. "Malcom? Or Mr Crane? No need to be alarmed. Remember me?"

Malcom Crane narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember. It took him but a brief moment and then his eyebrows slowly rose. Zell nodded slowly as the understanding dawned. The Ambassador was still confused. "Wha... What do you want?"

Zell folded his arms and leaned on the doorframe. "Well; when I found out, through my contacts, that the Thieves Guild had a secret, underground escape tunnel from the their headquarters to the outside of the city, my first thought was, 'Who is important enough to need safe passage out of this siege?'" he started. "Of course; not everyone is going to be able to use the tunnel. Not everyone has the money to pay, for one. And for two; if too many people start piling through the tunnel, the enemy is sure to catch on. So; who needs to go?" he half unfolded his arms to gesture about casually with a hand as he talked. Malcom just sat there, still alarmed but listening at least. "And that's when I thought of you. Of course. You have to survive. A man of your esteem? In your position? You have to make it back to Capitol City, if possible, to report on the situation. To lend your expertise and advice on how to proceed."

Zell walked over to the bed and sat next to Malcom Crane and sighed. "We need to get you out of here. And I see you've already figured things out with the Thieves Guild, you've got your bags packed and everything. Problem is, you've paid to use the tunnel... but whoever you've hired to be your bodyguard is a complete and utter waste of money." The Ambassador arched an eyebrow. Zell looked back at him, unperturbed. "If the enemy catch you, outside the city - trust me - your bodyguard is not going to stop them killing you all. You need a real fighter. Someone powerful. Someone saaaayyy.... from a party who slew Aurok the Maneater. Catch my meaning?"

After a moment to process everything, the Ambassador was slowly but surely falling for the pitch. And why not? It was probably true. But of course, with this all being highly illegal, the city official was on edge. "Why would you do this? What do you want out of it?"

"I want you safe. And once you're far enough away from Valhiem, I'll come back here and help defend the city. And, if I survive, maybe in the future, if there's a way you can help me, then you might be willing to return the favour." Zell shrugged, then nodded pointedly at the busted safe. "A small fee out of that sack of platinum wouldn't go amiss, too, if you're feeling generous. But mostly, just the friendship of a man in politics." Zell let him think for a few seconds before making the man's decision for him. He slapped his knee and stood up. "So... when are we leaving?"

"Ah.. err... tonight." And there was Malcom's answer and decision. Zell was pleased. It wasn't like the Ambassador could refuse, anyway. Zell was experienced in dealing with illegal activity. One advantage when extorting another criminal... they can't go to the police without ratting themselves out. Ell-oh-ell.

"Tonight? Alright, good," Zell said. "So long as whoever's in charge of the tunnel is going to let me back in, I'll be your escort. We'll get you a few hours away from Valhiem. If we can get on the West Road to the village of Cherrad, I think you'll be able to purchase a horse there. I'll be back in the city before dawn and nobody will have a clue what's happened. Job's a good'un."

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

Zell had left his Sergeants under strict instruction to maintain a punishing endurance training regiment for the remainder of the day, telling the trainers that; the more Lions they could make vomit from exhaustion, the better. Then, in the last hour, they would all fight spar hard whilst drained, dizzy and weak from fatigue.

"Brothers. This afternoon will test your mettle. It's easy to be brave when you have energy. It's easy to be clever and quick. The true test of a soldier comes when he's dead on his feet. That is when lesser men lose heart. That is when lesser men break and beg for the end. Exhaustion is worse than pain. Pain can spur you onward. Exhaustion will do nothing but hold you back.

Remember this, at the end of today - familiarise yourself with what it feels like so you are ready for it, if it hits you in battle. Prepare your hearts and minds to carry your body through the heaviest weight a soldier can feel."

Zell would try to be back before the afternoon was over, but he didn't know how long his business at the summit of Citadel Mountain would take.

He made his way through the city and eventually started the climb up the mountain road. As he ascended, he looked out first at the beseiging enemy in the distance, then down to the city below. The top brass sure were cutting it close with how long they were taking to move the population up the mountain, he'd said as much to James and Adam one morning at breakfast. Zell thought it to be a bold risk - not necessarily incorrect, (it was more efficient this way,) but certainly an easier risk to take when one was already comfortable in the relative safety of the Citadel. He was pretty certain that the wealthier families of the Mayor and other City and Academy officials would already be up here.

"Captain Brooks. I'm looking for Ambassador Crane. We have a meeting at his accomadations, but I've forgotten where he's staying.............. Thanks."

Ambassador Crane. Zell had marked him as a target from the moment the man had opened his mouth at the midnight strategy meeting, the night when Second Chance first arrived back in Valhiem. He'd managed to get a little info about the man's job in the days since and confirmed to himself that Malcom Crane being a man of interest was justified. What the Englishman hadn't counted on was the bombshell that Devon had dropped on him, last night at the Brass Monkey. Zell wondered if Devon's intel and the Ambassador might be connected, and if so, to what end could Zell use this.

He found himself outside the Mayor's second home, in the small residential area on the edge of the Citadel. Apparently the Ambassador had a guest-floor of the place as his own living quarters, for the duration of his stay in Valhiem. With the Mayor often not there, this accomadation would be a pretty spacious and cozy arrangement. Probably not so much, right now, with the Mayor and his wife forced to live there too.

A guard was on the front entrance, which made sense, seeing as the Citadel would soon become extremely overcrowded the scared and desperate citizens. Zell was told that both the Mayor and the Ambassador were at the Central Bureau, so Zell nodded a goodbye to the guard and went on his way.

Or at least, he appeared to.

As soon as the guard was looking the other way, Zell was making a right turn into the narrow passage between two buildings and making his way back towards the Mayor's home. He found himself officially breaking the law at the point where he was climbing up the gutter of the house next door. This was not the brightest idea, Zell was not the stealthiest individual, nor was he high enough up to avoid being sighted by literally anyone who cared to look. Fortunately, there was nobody in the street.

Once level with the second floor windows of the Mayor's home, Zell looked through those windows, saw inside, then braced himself to jump.

Twelve yards.

Diving across the gap, Zell managed to get close enough to the window before teleporting to his sighted location inside, stumbling as he materialised in the house, and almost barreling into some furniture that would've made enough noise to alert the guard downstairs outside the door.

Zell didn't waste any time, quietly making his way to the top floor of the home. He searched through the Ambassador's accomadation, looking particularly for a connection to the Thieves' Guild, but also any documents or letters that might reveal secrets that were being kept from Second Chance or even Valhiem altogether.

@xenon