level_act37side_04_beg

<p=1>Ten Pints Pub</><p=2>December 21st, 1098, 5:05 P.M.</>

Good job, Madam Speaker, I say!

Rip up every tile in Londinium and root out the devil scum hiding under them! *cough* *cough*...

I hear there's gonna be a big shipment of Oripathy meds coming in.

I got a friend at the procurement office. Maybe he can get me some meds first, and I'll see if I can get some for you, hah... cheers— *hic* —

You were strutting all day when you got into the duke's army... and then you went to the Exemplars, and now here you are after the end of the war, just like me.

Two Infected with nothing left—

Who are you calling Infected?!

I can fight! I'm not like you! I'm not afraid to die... *vomit*—

The other patrons look up at the staggering soldier.

A coin flies across his face and lands on the bar counter. A haggard figure grabs him by the shoulder.

He's drunk. Take him home. I've got the bill.

Don't mind what they said, madam.

He's just telling the truth, Lieutenant.

I'm retired too. But suit yourself.

Sure. As for your question... it doesn't matter if I was talking to the one whose name's on the warrant, or Reunion, or anybody else.

The workers want to do something for our home. I can't just stand by and watch everything get worse.

Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures. That's how things have always been for us.

Just friendly advice. I've seen what medicine from dubious sources can do. I watched a soldier collapse into his drink a couple of days ago.

I'd performed emergency surgery on him during the war.

That time, he survived. But this time... it was the last checkup he ever got.

You're a kind soul.

The apothecary in my neighborhood says he can't remember how many came to him for poison during the war.

I don't remember everyone I've ever treated, of course.

I've seen much worse in my time as field medic, but at least I get to see those who walk out the field hospital again.

Spend enough time drinking here, and you begin to recognize the faces in the crowd that you've seen before, even if it was only once.

I know some doctors, the Rhodes Islanders. Maybe you need their help.

You forget that I'm a physician myself... what do you think of the Exemplars?

It's asking a lot, getting an old burdenbeast to remember something that long ago.

It's ancient history, even to me. All I remember is that decades ago, when kids would brag about this and that, they wouldn't be tossing around the names of dukes, it was the Exemplars.

There were lots of heroes. Lots of them lost.

No, what I mean is—

I know what you wanted to hear, but I don't have anything else for you. Sorry.

Most people in the new 'Exemplars' aren't soldiers. You can't compare them to the old ones.

We didn't start celebrating here in the city when the dukes defeated the Sarkaz, that's the end of it.

The walls were on fire, and unarmed Londiniers trapped inside with the Sarkaz.

Nobody knew if the dukes would spend the next two months talking before they entered the city. Nobody knew what would become of us.

It was the Exemplars who came. No one can take away what you did, not in Londinium, at least.

Catherine pauses. She notices the officer's hand trembling in the dim light of the tavern.

He reaches into his pouch, trying to find something, but finally sighs and takes a big swig from his mug.

These days, the only contribution most of us make is to the business of the city's drinking establishments.

Thankfully, the kindly owner here doesn't throw out loitering drunkards.

After all, most of those who fought tooth and nail to get back home no longer have homes at all.

To hard-won victory.

Shearer raises his mug, but Catherine does not do the same.

I'm afraid you found the wrong drinking partner. I have an appointment to keep, and I intend to be sober for it.

You're drunk, medic. Leave the alcohol to your later days.

I've heard the rumors about the Exemplars. Why don't you talk to the Speaker directly?

Catherine gets up, goes around the other patrons, nods at the owner behind the counter, and disappears behind a door in the corner obscured by boxes.

...What makes you think I haven't?

He looks in the direction where Catherine went. It leads to a forgotten corner of the city.

The Defense Force patrols went in many times, but never found anything.

None of my business.

He waves the proprietor over for another drink.

Lieutenant Shearer sent two messages. I asked the Messenger and both came from this underground pub.

But Delphine said she made arrangements for all the surviving soldiers of Duke Windermere's ship.

Are you sure we don't want to check out the street that Delphine talked about first?

No. Let's go in.

<i>I followed behind Vina and let her open the door, because I was still used to kicking them in.</i>

<i>The Glasgow Gang never, ever, caused trouble in Auchterigg Borough.</i>

<i>Vina said we were just getting a drink with some old Exemplar friends, but I knew there was a lot on her mind.</i>

<i>She had made arrangements to stop some factories and ration the refined Originium reserves for the winter.</i>

<i>But the word 'Exemplars' was always there at the bottom of her memo—our old friends.</i>

Deal. You're gonna answer my questions frankly and truthfully, right?

As long as you beat me at arm wrestling.

Brr—

Piece of cake.

Hmph, I figured my injury wouldn't be a problem...

I know what you want to ask.

'Will she disband the Exemplars?'

Honestly, I don't know. The stuff she's thinking about has been getting more and more complicated, and I've given up trying to figure it out.

My guess is no. She even came to see us in the clothes that she wore when we fought together. If that's not sending a message, I don't know what it is.

Didn't she say she just didn't want to draw too much attention?

That's what's in all the books! You wouldn't get it.

What you see here is no exception.

Many Exemplars are suffering from their lingering war wounds.

With medicine in short supply, alcohol represents one of the few sources of comfort available to them.

While some are here for information, most are here all day and night because they simply have nowhere else to go.

Is this why you wrote to me? To stand up for them?

No... I see you have not read my letter.

I'm sorry, there's been so much going on—

You used to be more straight and forthcoming, Madam Speaker.

If you think the Exemplars are calling for you to pay more attention to veterans' welfare, I can tell you that you're wrong.

They're waiting for your next order.

Everyone I've talked to for the past two months believes that Siege has grown since becoming Speaker, that she's getting even better as a leader.

And the question they ask the most is—where do we go next?

Are you telling me to continue to send them to bleed and die, instead of trying to make life better for them?

You never truly saw yourself as their leader. You saw them as equals, as comrades in arms. I respect you for that, but it's also where you have failed in your responsibilities.

Forgive my frankness, but for many of them, what's left of their lives will never know a greater happiness than the taste of victory they enjoyed as the Exemplars.

He grabs his mug and tries to take a swig.

But it slips from his hands and falls to the ground.

The others look towards Shearer, whose eyes are red as he takes deep breaths, trying to keep himself under control.

He takes out a coin, puts it on the table, and raises his hand at the proprietor without looking at him. On his part, the proprietor simply goes about cleaning up the mess without batting an eyelid.

One more of the same, please.

Where were we, Madam Speaker?

<i>I never got along well with Lieutenant Shearer. For a long time, Vina's fist knocking him dizzy had cemented my impression of him.</i>

<i>A field medic. Stubborn, but largely calm and dependable.</i>

<i>His surgeon's hands brought many back from the brink of death.</i>

You... why—

Lingering effect of an injury.

It was one hell of a battle, wasn't it?

<i>It wasn't his hand that was injured. I remember it well.</i>

<i>He sat straight and tall. I thought he had recovered with Delphine's help.</i>

<i>As he said, though, it was one hell of a battle we fought to return to Londinium.</i>

<p=1>At the City Walls</><p=2>September 25th, 1098, 3:03 A.M.</>

Any news about the situation in the city?

Unclear.

As of yesterday, the Military Commission still had a heavy presence in important areas.

With the Royal Court elites deployed around the walls in a standoff with the dukes, however, the resistance within the city stands a better chance.

The siege's gone on ten days already! When are the dukes gonna charge?

If the priority is to minimize casualties amongst the allied forces, then besieging the city is the best way, particularly with the Duke of Wellington's position still uncertain...

But they're playing with the lives of innocent citizens! If this drags on much longer...

Are they really okay with taking over an empty city?

If the truth about the situation here gets out—

Nothing gets out. They will not allow anything to happen out of their control.

People often underestimate the dukes, but the truth is, they have never changed.

Just like how they treated the Steam Knights.

It's only one example... I can't say I know all of them well, but I knew my own mother.

Ethics is the first thing to go out the window when dealing with matters of shared interest.

The focus had already shifted to how to retrieve The Shard tech at the joint staff meeting last night.

So they've already accepted this outcome.

Dagda...

I need a squad, Siege. I'm going to try that Confessarius passage that Shining shared with us again—

I'll be back, Vina. I promise.

Go.

You're just gonna let her go like that?

I'm keeping an eye on you, Dagda. Now's not the time to play the hero!

Well, you'd better not fall behind then, Hannah.

Delphine, any updates from Feist and Rockrock?

They've reached the backup access port from when the wall was first built, but they can't find an opportunity to get close with all the Sarkaz patrols.

The Doctor's team is trying to give us an opening. One feint attack is all that it takes to create an opening, but...

The alliance doesn't plan to attack at all.

Correct.

Delphine, can you guarantee that you'll find a way inside, if there's a gap in the Sarkaz lines?

Yes, but I need help. We can try to persuade the dukes again—

Vina shakes her head.

Give me two hours.

I'll pull a squad with decent Arts skills and some battle drones. We'll feign an attack on the access port at N12 to draw their attention—

You take the rest of them.

No! You'll be going to your death!

Chetleigh, Brentwood, the Gloriana, Silverrock Bluffs... we were going to our deaths, each and every time.

But somebody has to do it. I'm with you, Vina.

There is no answer from Vina. Morgan notices a strange look on her face.

...Vina?

Urgent message from the Doctor—

Loughshinny just went into the Wellington encampment.

...Who's Loughshinny?

<i>There were many things on the battlefield that I didn't understand. Calm and storm, victory and defeat, everything happened so fast.</i>

<i>After the alliance had besieged the city for ten days, the Gastrell, which had long departed the ducal alliance camp, suddenly moved into the heart of the allied position.</i>

<i>For the first time in a very long while, those who were listening to the alliance comms channel heard the voice of the old duke—</i>

<i>'The Gastrell shall restore the Empire's glory.'</i>

<i>Guns went blazing...</i>

<i>Broadsides fired straight at our city walls.</i>

<p=1>At the City Walls</><p=2>September 25th, 1098, 7:33 A.M.</>

Tell the people behind us, no delay through the trenches!

The bulk of the Sarkaz forces are being tied up at the front, but that doesn't mean we have all day.

Sir, there's a lot of equipment in the camp that we need time to—

There is no time!

We can deal with the equipment issue once we get into the city.

Some of the wounded can't walk on their own. We'll need to carry them by stretcher.

You follow the path that Siege has cleared for us. I'll organize the transfer of the wounded. Now go!

I'll help, sir. I'm more familiar with the situation of individual patients.

Plus, I promised them I wouldn't leave them behind.

Grab your own share of suppressant and protective gear from the patients' supplies. Better than nothing, at least.

The closer we get to the walls, the higher the atmospheric Originium particle density. The wounded will be in more danger than us.

Yes, sir.

They say you're not a Londinier, sir. Why would you risk your neck like this?

Look! Another battleship is giving covering fire for the Gastrell!

The Duke of Caster...

Weren't they saying that the Duke of Wellington betrayed us and fell out with the Duke of Caster?

Shit!

Contact his liege, we have sighted a small force of Victorians. Request permission to engage.

Get them. Leave survivors. Find out what their unit's objective is.

What happened to the clouds?

...Fire.

The sky lights up with the fire on the city walls.

The first wave of purple flame came from the bow of the Gastrell, gushing towards the walls of Londinium. And again. And again.

Like the cold waves of death that splashed against the sheer cliffs of Iberia.

It fell upon the Nachzehrers before Shearer, burning away the rot.

Londinium's walls are alight, ignited by Draco fire.

The Sarkaz defenders became kindling for the purple inferno.

Th—They're dead?

Careful. The fire has cleared a path, but it's a threat to us too.

Hah.

In the distance, he sees the figure on the withered throne fade in and out of the purple flames, gunfire from the ships roaring beside it.

On the walls, death ignites death.

Beneath the walls, the living walk amongst the ashes of the dead.

This is a war that will shock all the Core nations.

It is not the number of casualties that will interest them the most... but how many people on both sides are actually fighting for the city of Londinium itself.

It's a long way home for you.