Chapter CCXX.

Mayor's Office.

Mayor Roberts stared darkly into his glass of expensive imported spirits. One of the few luxuries he had left that he didn't burn through not long after the National Guard arrived. What point was there in keeping expensive things around now? Not like he could take them when 'they' finally arrive to do to him what they did to his predecessor.

He downed the liquor. He didn't enjoy it in the slightest. It tasted bland and hollow to him. Everything did lately. Then again, one's impending death didn't seem to make anything taste better like some movies or stories say it does. Damn liars, he thought as a knock came from his office door.

He gave some sort of noise that could've been either a "fuck off" or "come in". Neither he nor his guest were sure though. Regardless, Sherriff Steinburg entered the office and stared at the shadow of a man.

"Gerald."

The mayor grunted but kept his eyes on his drink. He wasn't even entirely sure if the sheriff was even here or if this was yet another fear induced hallucination that have become more and more common for him of late. God, he didn't even recall with certainty when he last slept.

"Gerald? Are you alright?" The sheriff asked worriedly.

"No. I'm not. In case you haven't noticed, we're all going to die soon." The mayor stated darkly and more than a little slurry.

The sheriff rolled his eyes and took a seat across from the portly man that didn't seem quite so portly anymore now that he had come closer to him. His eyes were dark and baggy and his face, once ruddy with excess weight and a short temper, was now sickly and gaunt. His hair was disheveled and ragged from poor maintenance and his clothes were stained with obvious signs of wear and tear.

"What happened to you Gerald?"

The mayor snorted and poured another drink.

"Like you don't know. It's your fault."

"What's my fault?" The sheriff asked.

The mayor waved his hands, skinnier than the sheriff had ever seen them be in his entire life, around vaguely.

"This. All this. Things were fine here. Not perfect mind you. But fine none the less."

"Are you talking about the newcomers? I know it's alot and we're doin' all we can-"

"Bah! If it were just them I wouldn't give a pig shit about it! But no! You had to call in the National Guard as well you damned fool!" The mayor stated with hate in his voice and paranoid accusation in his weary eyes.

"Well of course I called them! We don't have the resources to take care of this many people! They needed help and I did the right thing!"

The mayor spat at that.

"The right thing. Tell me sheriff? How many people have died?"

"What?"

"How many people have died? How many would still be alive if they had simply been sent on their merry ways instead? How much trouble would we have saved if you had just decided to be a realist for once?"

The sheriff fell silent at those words. It was true that more people had died then he wished. Every day they found a couple more bodies that didn't survive the elements. The hospital and medic tent were full to bursting at all hours. As if that wasn't bad enough he and his two deputies were overworked just trying to keep criminals from taking advantage of the ruin and decay for all it was worth. Maybe he was just being hyperbolic. Despite how many people have died, more and more were getting life-saving medicine and housing, albeit simple and cheap housing but shelter none-the-less.

"Things haven't been sunshine and rainbows I know. But it's better than leavin' them to the elements all on their own."

The mayor snorted again as he downed another glass.

"Then you're a optimist and a fool."

"Are you still goin' on about the hillfolk? There was a single scuffle and things were taken care of. Some of those government folk even made a deal with them to stop any hostilities."

"And you believe them do you? Then you're a even bigger fool. This wont end with some pretty words on a piece of paper. It will end when we're all dead. You for being the one to bring the National Guard back here. Them for returning where they're not wanted. And me, for being the poor fool in charge while it all happened."

"Gerald. I know folk around here are a might superstitious about the hillfolk and Black Mountain. But you can't-"

"I can and damn well will! Anyone who was here during that Godless time would be too!" The mayor declared fervently.

"You can't seriously blame what happened on the hillfolk can you?!"

"You're damn right I will! No bumbling burglar or jilted lover would do that to someone! No. That was the work of those… 'people'! And whatever evil that lives on that mountain!"

"You heard the report as well as everyone else! His wife found him and an investigation proved it was either a break in gone wrong or suicide!"

"Lies. His wife was spending extra time with her palates instructor. I was the one that found him like that that day. We made up she being the one to find him to avoid anymore scandal and to draw sympathy for the elections."

"You found him?" The sheriff asked.

"Yes. I was an intern in his administration during that time. Looking to my future in politics and what not. I was there for the whole thing. I watched as a lucrative deal turned into poison. I heard the shouts of frustration between him and the Duvals. I saw the news when word got out of what had occurred. I saw the governor resign in disgrace and the former Major General be discharged for their part in it all. I saw and heard his final days as he dared not even leave his office eventually from fear of something coming after him. All papers went under his door and unsigned for days. And it was I that found my predecessor with his eyes gouged and his tongue cut from his throat within a room locked from the inside. It was I that saw the look of sheer fucking terror on his cold and lifeless face." The mayor told and took a long gulp of another drink.

"God, Gerald. Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"As I said. Having an intern find their boss dead before his wife would've raised questions the party didn't want to answer. So she was informed of what happened and the rest of the story is what was told. She came home and found him dead. Then we had a mourning period. *scoff\* More like a period of fear where everyone with half a braincell wanted to be as far away from that position as possible. It wasn't until I came of age that I took my chance and ran for mayor. Uncontested because who else in their right mind would want it? Even then I kept an eye over my shoulder that entire time, dreading the same fate as the former mayor. After I won I made damn sure another Culling of Black Mountain would never occur. And I was doing a damn fine job of it too. Until you had to be a damned fool."

"Fear isn't a reason to not be a good person Gerald." Miles declared.

"Maybe not. But it is if you want to keep breathing." Gerald retorted in a tired voice.

"Superstition or not, we're surrounded by the National Guard and the government has it handled."

"No they don't. As I said Miles. This wont end until we're dead. The government has no power here. They'll start picking off the National Guard one by one. Stragglers that turn down a dark alley or wander off into the hills to take a piss or get drunk. Then they'll start growing bold. They'll start attacking in broad daylight like they did just before. A probing attack is all that was, Miles. When they come down there wont be anything that can stop them from enacting their blood feud." The mayor said in mounting fear and terror.

"Gerald. I think you need some time away." Miles stated with genuine concern. The two of them haven't gotten along… well, ever. But it didn't do anyone any good to be in this sort of state.

"It won't matter. I could fly to the other end of the world and they'd still find me. I know because they've told me as much." Gerald stated cryptically.

"Who?"

"The voices. In the shadows. In the halls. In the walls. Most days all I hear are whispers when I'm alone. But at night? It's like they're screaming in my mind! I see the face of my predecessor staring at me from the dark with hollow eyes and terror on his face! The same look that will appear on my face when my time comes! I can't even go near shadows without feeling like the hand of death itself is reaching for me! When I go home I have every single light on! Not a single drop of shadow or darkness remains! Yet I still hear them! Outside my windows! In the walls of my home!" The mayor cried as fearful tears started to stream down his face as his voice cracked from madness.

"Gerald?" The sheriff asked in increasing concern as he moved a comforting hand towards him.

"I don't want to die! I want to grow old and pass peacefully in my bed! But that isn't how my end will come! I'll end up just like he did! Locked in my office like I am now! So scared that I'm not sure which will get me eventually! My own madness or them!"

"Gerald! You're not going to die! Things look dire now true, but they'll get better! Things are already getting better! Houses are being built. People have money to spend. Medicine is being handed out! Things are getting better!" The sheriff declared hopefully.

But it didn't seem to affect the mayor from his crazed stupor as he seemed to zone in and out of delirium. Eyes staring at something only he could see and then back to being emotionless and numb. Miles sighed as it was obvious that there wasn't anything he could do right now. Hell, as much of an optimist as he was, even he was having trouble believing himself. Things were looking good. But the end wont be near as happy as he would've like it to be.

The sheriff got up from the chair and turned around when he reached for the door.

"Get some sleep Gerald. Things will turn out alright."

With that he left. In a moment of lucidity the mayor huffed.

"Damn optimists. They'll get us all killed with a smile on their face."

Refugee Camp.

Things were getting worse for them. As if having your home destroyed and becoming homeless wasn't enough. As if being 'guarded' by goblins and left to their cruel and barbaric treatment that many argued wasn't any better than the orcs they fled from! As if being robbed of what little coin they had wasn't worse! As if being labeled the villains while the locals and even the dwarves assist thieving kobolds wasn't the top of the pile!

Then there were the humans of this world. They weren't like the ones from Daele. Gruff and cantankerous as many a sailor the Daelish were. But the locals were little more than barbarians to some of them. Quick to anger and ready to throw fists. Which they knew how to use. Then there were the strange things they carried around that some of the dwarves called "thundersticks". An apt name as even from far away they could hear them as they cut a swath of death and destruction at the dwarven hub.

Then there was those humans dressed in strange black cloth that walked around with an air that any predator of the deep would hesitate to challenge. Those that were cold as the depths as well. They knew of their troubles, but seemed more inclined in keeping them trapped in this town of monsters!

All attempts at fleeing were met with quick capture. Most were returned, drugged by something given to them with only the vague memory of feeling some sort of bug biting them before they awoke in the care of their friends. But some never returned. When confronted about this the humans in black merely stayed silent and glared at them with their grips tightening on their thundersticks as if daring them to press further!

Were there some of those missing that ended up at the healing tent or other strange building of healing eventually? Yes. But that wasn't the point, the point was that they couldn't be trusted! None of the local humans could! At least that's what an increasing minority of the refugees thought. After all, how could they trust humans that freely worked and assisted goblins and kobolds?! Humans that seemed to also consort with dark powers in the hills as well!

No, the fidgety fearful man thought as he and the others of their inner circle gathered around a ramshackle table. They could only trust themselves!

"We must do something! Everyday more of us are subjected to their rule! Worse than the orcs I would even dare say!"

"Don't matter who's in charge! We're fucked like a whore regardless! Goblins, criminals, even other humans! The worst part is we can't even leave!" Another cried out in fear.

"What's worse is that some are even startin' to get used to 'em! Doin' work for 'em! Even tradin' with 'em!" Another said in a fearfully shrill voice that just added to the anxious and fearful air of the refugee camp.

"How long before they start makin' families with 'em?!" An unknown voice called out from nearby.

"Who said that?!" The fidgety ringleader asked fearfully.

"I said that!" A man with a scarred face emerged from the shadows, he was dressed the same as they were but none of the leaders could really recall seeing him here before.

Before any sort of question as to him being here could arise, he continued in a heated tone.

"Worse then orcs I say! At least the orcs made no secret what would happen to us! But now it's anyone's guess what'll happen next! Will those strange goblins start mutilatin' us again for just gettin' by?! They're already workin' with the humans in green armor and strange carriages that spit fire and thunder! Do we really want, no, NEED 'em with weapons like those?!"

A resounding no arose from the gathering crowd of refugees. The strange man continued, raising his voice and his hands in the air.

"And then what?! When they get done armin' our oppressors and enemies then what?! Will they bed our women?! Enslave our children?! We're already trapped and treated like slaves! NO! Worse than slaves! They inject us with strange remedies and call it medicine! What is it really?! It could be poison! Meant to dull our minds and keep us weak and controllable! They take our coins away and give us strange paper and call it currency! We can't go anywhere either! We're slaves in all but name at this point!"

Furious calls of action and frightful chatter filled the air.

"What do we do?! Who'll protect us?!"

"Not the duchess that's for sure! She has no power now!" A voice called out and got some calls in support.

"The nobles are gone and sided with the goblins as well!" Another voiced.

"You see?! We are alone! The people of Daele! Our nobility have turned their backs on us and those that offered hands of friendship instead wield invisible chains around our necks that grow tighter and tighter with each day! SOMETHIN' MUST BE DONE!!!" The man cried out.

The voices rose to a fever pitch and the air turned hot and hostile as half-thought out plans were passed around. Some gaining traction, and genuine chances of success. Others still being accepted but with no obvious thought as to implementation. Already many refugees were beginning to arm themselves with whatever they could carry or fashion from what they could find to protect themselves as they saw it. It didn't matter who would come for them, goblins, kobolds, their fellow humans, they would protect themselves!

Among the plans though were some even more drastic and violent. Some were calling for assassinations against those that assisted their enemies. Specifically targeting the blasphemous temple of the local deity as those particularly religious believed that they were the source of all their problems and a forceful conversion to the path of the Blessed Goddess would restore their fortunes. Others talked about going after businesses and people that worked with the goblins or even going after local stores like they did before. But not the half-measured retaliations that the fidgety leader did but full-blown assaults carried out! If they would do business with their enemies and beasts but demand payment for what they needed then they'll just take what they wanted and damn those that tried to stop them.

As the fidgety ringleader's voice got drowned out, he and the other 'leaders' looked around for the one that started this all and got the refugees all riled up, but they could no longer see him among the ever moving crowd as preparations were made to enact their plans for safety, security, and freedom!

That was easy, the man thought as he slunk down the sidewalk. Peeling off the fake scars that hid his features during the ordeal and putting his hands in his pockets and a self-satisfied grin on his face. The boss will be pleased to hear about this. Then again it wasn't really hard to do. His countrymen were already tense as an anchor's line. All he really needed to do was throw some kindling on the fire and the rest would sort itself out just nicely.

He sighed though when he realized his next target wouldn't be so easy. He might need a refresher from the boss over his behaviors and manner of speech. They'll be harder to rile up, especially if they didn't think he was who he wanted them to think he was.

He sighed and made his way back home. He needed to get this right or it'll be his ass in the fire.

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