“So that’s it?” Charlie muttered, looking at the gig wooden walls and stone battlements of the outpost. Just above the walls peeked out the roof of a building. Grey in colour and just as bland as the brown wood walls and stone towers.

“How many guards?” Nolkonoe asked on behalf of the party.

“A hundred if we are lucky. But anyway, I’d rather use words than violence to enter,” Charlie said, staring at the wooden gate.

“How many should we go forward with?” The lead warrior asked.

“We’ll have about three hundred,” Charlie said, looking behind their Desert Claimer and to the two newly arrived ones. On the backs of these beasts sat a small army of Desert Ghost who had come to join their ranks.

“Maybe it is best to have you take half the group and move to the back of the settlement. That way we can attack two sides if anything happens,” Charlie said, doing his best to think of any battle tactics that may work in such an open and exposed area.

“Our species can use magic to hide our ears and tales, we’ll use this magic on ourselves and move without the war beasts around the camp,” the Lead warrior said, yelling something to the crowd before jumping from the war beast. She was quickly followed by a group of about two hundred warriors.

“Alright, good,” Charlie said, deciding to take the advice of a seasoned tactician over his sparse knowledge. The Chiefess yelled something over to the warriors on her war beast. Quickly they dispersed and moved to the other beasts to make sure they didn’t wander off.

“So, our group will go to the front, and you shall join us if we get attacked,” Charlie was about to say more about the plan but stopped for a second as he noticed the women stripping themselves off their garments.

“Sorry,” he said, making eye contact with the Heir to the Warrior clan before snapping his gaze away. Angrily, she muttered a few words. The Chiefess grunted and barked some back to her, quickly calming her and putting her in her place.

“Don’t worry Charlie, we only strip because only skin and our hair can be affected by the magic,” The Lead warrior explained, laughing slightly at her heavily blushing daughter as she frantically tried positioning her hair in such a way that it would hide her breasts from him.

“May I ask then why you keep your paints on?” Charlie said, only after he saw the smirks from Nolkonoe and Phukomeia realise what he said.

“Ooh, I saw you eyeing up myself and my daughter there, but you want to see us nude? How perverted, especially in front of your master,” the lead warrior teased as the two Vultures struggled to not burst out into laughter as they saw the scowl coming across the face of the Chiefess.

‘Know little English but know enough that you don’t want me to know the rest. Perverts!” The Chiefess said before bucking the Desert Claimer and making it kick one of its many legs out to the side. All warriors jumped as they moved to avoid being kicked by the creature.

“Jokes aside, to answer what you said, our paints are magic and influenced by a small drop of blood from our kind. Wearing the paint, we can send magic from our skin onto the paint. Thus turning us invisible except for our weapons,” the Lead Warrior said, smiling as she saw her daughter awkwardly deciding whether or not to turn and allow Charlie to see her nude once again. Ah, the love of youth carrying on until an older age.

Their laughter died down as they watched the warriors disappear off into the desert.

“Can’t they hide their weapons?” Charlie asked as he watched the warriors vanish as their magic activated.

“No, it’s too hard,” Nolkonoe explained as the Chiefess demanded the creature forward. As instructed, the creature moved forward towards the settlement.

As they approached, the shadow of the gates fell over them. Sending a chill down the spines of the warm-blooded natives. The spiked tops of the wall hung over them like an executioner’s axe. Stopping their advance just before the shadows fully fell over them, their eyes landed on a small wooden sign and a line of red stones.

“What does it say?” The Chiefess whispered past Charlie and Ourupadia and to Nolkonoe.

Bang!

The crack of gunfire stopped them as they were only a few meters from the line of red stones. Their eyes fell onto a small crater of steaming sand.

“It’s a warning,” Nolkonoe squinted her eyes as she looked closer at the uselessly small sign

“Something about a fifteenth blackened Dragona?” Phukomeia said, seeing far better than Nolkonoe.

“Don’t move,” Charlie uttered. Despite him only just being moved out of the scorching sun, he still froze in the arms of Ourupadia.

“Why? It’s just a bullet, we can shrug that off. You have to remember, we aren’t human and can heal far faster,” Phukomeia said, gesturing to her side where she had been shot. Not even a scratch stained her skin.

“Think about this as well, we have haling magic, thus the reason you no longer have that scar along your cheek. We healed you in your sleep,”. Nolkonoe added.

“Yes, but that is a cracked shell, designed to crack open the sides of armoured caravans. They can go through about thirty inches of steal before they stop. You’re not recovering from that,” Charlie said, only ever seeing one of these guns once before when his caravan was attacked by rebels and had a hole the size of a dinner plate blasted into the side of it.

“So, we attack then?” The Chiefess said, Nolkonoe translating the conversation to her and then her words back to Charlie.

“No, let me talk,” Charlie said, his eyes fixed on the gruesomely familiar symbol of three blood-red crosses on a black banner. A large red skull and lever-action rifle behind it sat in the middle of the middle cross.

Jumping from the arms of Ourupadia, still clutching his contract to his chest, he began to walk towards the gates. The Chiefess stared at the towers, daring them to fire upon him so she had an excuse to fire back. Well, I say a fire, but she was imagining more of skinning and making them into a nice top and skirt.

Edging through the sand and towards the red rocks, he stared up at the battlements.

“Afternoon,” Charlie called up to the dark slits in the pillboxes.

“What you want boy?” A man in a thick northern region accent yelled down.

“We ain’t letting those things ner here!” the man yelled. Charlie looked back to the war beasts. He knew this group, the Northern Cross-backs Mercs or NCM for short, we're a very effective group of mercenaries.

“I’m only here for a little chat with the Region Lord, am I right to think this is his outpost!” Charlie yelled up to the battlements. There was a moment of muttering between the men before one answered.

“We'll tell im now!” the man yelled before silence hung over the area again. For an agonisingly long time, there was only silence. His eyes locked onto the black slit of the towers. From the slits, he could see the shine of gun barrels.

“Oi! The boss says you in, but only with one of those lot, and not one of those beasts!” the voice of the man rang over the battlements and down to him. The gates creaked open. Charlie turned and ran to the Chiefess.

“I assume you heard?” he said and Nolkonoe nodded.

“The Chiefess decided that she was going go with you,” Nolkonoe explained as the Chiefess jumped from the war beast and onto the sand.

The Chiefess kept her two knives concealed in her waistband as she moved with Charlie towards the gates. Seeing their ‘guests’ return, one of the men in the battlements shouted to another and the gates began to creek open. The shadow cast but the gates were parted as they dragged open.

“Weak,” the Chiefess muttered, seeing the ten-man group that yanked each door open. Inside, they were greeted by several men wielding rifles. The head of them stepped forward.

“Afternoon, my apologies for my Sargent firing at you. He isn’t exactly good at interacting with the native populace and their creatures,” A man standing before the soldiers said.

He wore a simple black and red shirt covered by a half red, half white, three-piece suit. He had gentle eyes and a seemingly even gentler demeanour as he gestured for the two to follow him. Through the outpost they walked, the group of ten riflemen following them. For a while, they wandered until they found a bright, cream white, house. The door at first looked to be a double door, but it was soon confirmed to be single. Simply it was custom designed to allow someone larger than usual inside, it took little imagination for Charlie to figure out who this was.

Opening the door, the man who he assumed to be the garrison leader gestured them forward. Once at the door, they were stopped by two men. Firstly, they placed their hands on Charlie’s arms and began to search. A man jumped back as a knife scraped against his cheek. Leaping back, he clasped his hand onto his face a bold began to pour from m the deeply cut wound.

“What the bloody fuck!” The man yelled, his accent being more western, like Charlie’s. Calm, and casually wiping the blood from her white stone knife, she looked blankly at the man.

“No touch,” she said, despite her accent, Charlie could still pick up on her matter-of-fact attitude. Hearing the distinct sound of fabric rubbing as the men whipped up their arms and aimed their rifles toward them. Heart racing, Charlie stepped in before they got shot. After all the Chiefess may be able to leap away, but he doubted he could outmanoeuvre a built.

“It’s fine, they only want to check for weapons,” Charlie said, stepping towards the men and raising his arms to his side.

First looking to the beast of a woman, then to the boy, the two men stepped forward. Hurriedly, and a little frantically, they searched him. None though dared to try ad search the woman though at the fear she was to try and stab them. Seeing her little fear tactics worked, she stepped forward. A hand separated her from Charlie and the doorway.

“Knife Mrs,” the man said, a warm smile beaming at her as he made a little ‘give’ motion with his hand. Snarling slightly, but also not wanting to place Charlie in danger, she handed over her knife.

Nodding to the two, he allowed them to enter. Upon a chair that had been awkwardly made to his measurements with its jagged edges and bumping corners, the Region Lord sat. His matted hair and round face greeted them with a nod.

“My, this must be some kind of joke? A salve and a savage coming to visit me?” Charlie ignored him as he moved to sit in a rickety wooden chair across from the table in front of the Region Lord.

“Good to see you, sir,” Charlie said, deciding to not retaliate to the comment.

“So, let me guess why you are here?” He said, his eyes looking past Charlie and to the breasts of the Chiefess. Pretending to adjust his chair and sitting position, he moved and blocked his gaze.

“I could just tell you the reason,” Charlie said, not wanting to know his opinions.

“You want to beg for your freedom, right?” he said, a large grin on his face, his eyes fixing with his before looking up to the eyes of the Chiefess.

“I will if you give me that Vulture girl in exchange, what was her name? Nol…No? Nolkonoe?” he said. Charlie’s eyes narrowed as stared blankly at the Region Lord.

“We have come to talk about your crimes sir,” Charlie said getting straight to the point.

“Sorry what?” He bellowed.

“Look mate, let’s do this quickly, skip the pleasantries and get to business,” Charlie leaned closer and gestured to the Chiefess behind him.

“I have a feeling she is a little upset at the moment and is in the mood for skinning someone,” Charlie said, sitting and smiling brightly at the Region Lord.

“You bastard! You dare threaten me,” reaching into his draw, the Region Lord retrieved a revolver. Smalling it onto the table he leaned across the table to Charlie.

“Do you know what I can do?” he spat in his face. The Chiefess moved to draw her second knife but stopped as she saw Charlie raise his hand.

“For a starter, I do know what you can do, and I know what you will do. For a starter, you will break that chair if you sit on it any longer you fat fuck. I know you will probably give me whatever mental illness you have somehow through how much you are spitting on my face. Lastly, I know you will shit yourself when I say this, but I have as much evidence on the crimes you have committed as you have rolled on your ass,” Charlie said crossing his arms as he leaned forward to look at the Region Lord in the eyes.

“Do you understand what I’m doing? I am helping this place! The wildlife reserve I have created has saved hundreds of species that these savages would have simply slaughtered! You want to know what I have been doing? I’ve been stoking the flames of war boy! Only with war can we preserve this land! Only through a war can we take the lands of the natives and start bringing the native wildlife back into this land!” the Region Lord screamed at Charlie. Sitting back in his chest, he looked at the Region Lord, stunned into silence.

“Do you know how many have died…” Charlie said, understanding his want for nature preserves, but not understanding how he could justify so many deaths.

“Do you know how many will die!” he screamed back, slamming the table with one of his meat paws.

Grabbing the gun from his table, he aimed it at Charlie.

“I’m sorry boy, but there are difficult things you couldn’t begin to understand,” he said, staring at Charlie. What was that? On the man’s face. No, impossible, a look of a sympathy?

Charlie saw the look for only a second as the Chiefess leapt across the table, her knife flicking through the air as she stabbed it into the man’s hand. Screaming, the Region Lord dropped his gun. Waddling back, he held onto his bloodied hand.

“You have one week to get your things and leave here, we have found documents to show you have lied and that this land belongs to the Desert Ghost tribe,” Charlie said, trying to stay calm as he saw the blank look on the face of the Chiefess.

Charlie moved from his chair. Seeing Charlie move to the door, she leapt over the desk and to his side. Using his free hand, the Region Lord scrambled to his desk and grabbed his gun. Noticing the movement from the corner of her eyes, she turned to face him. Staring at the aimed barrel, she threw her knife, lodging it in the barrel of the gun.

“Please, sir, can we talk?” Charlie said, seeing they now had him backed into a corner, and remembering the purpose of him being there. Calming his nerves, he placed the contract he had been carrying onto the table.

“What is this?” the Region Lord muttered, sheepishly putting down his gun and walking to his seat. Sitting down, he stared at the contract.

“Currently you owe the native people a vast sum of money. We shall take one million coppers off this price on the condition you give us that money now and sign this contract,” Charlie said, pushing the contract towards him. The Region Lord made no noise as the Chiefess moved to his side, grabbed his gun, and carefully removed her knife from the gun.

“I’ll give you the money, just don’t let that thing touch me,” he said, his eyes fixed on the Chiefess.

“Ok great, this contract will just say that you brought some salt from us from one million copper. Consider this a little way to embezzle money,” Charlie said, looking to the pen on his table. Nodding, the Region Lord looked to where his gaze laid. Picking up the pen, he signed the contract.

“Guards! Bring me a million of my coppers!” he barked.

“Thank you for your business, we’ll be waiting by the gate,” Charlie said, standing, taking the contract, and moving to the door. In silence, the Region Lord sat until the two left the room.

Ten, maybe twenty minutes later the Region Lord arrived. At the gates. His group of warriors in tow as they carried several large wooden boxes packed with coppers. Smiling, Charlie watched as he awkwardly smiled and rubbed his hands. Blood still dripped from the wound, but he didn’t dare complain.

“Will this be alright?” he said. Charlie didn’t respond.

“Open the gates so we can place these onto our Desert Claimers,” Charlie said, and without hesitation, the Region Lord complied. The eyes of the Chiefess were more than enough to strike the fear of several gods into him.

The gates ached open and with a wave from Charlie, Nolkonoe approached with one of the Desert Claimers.

“Sorry my friend, but would you mind getting some of your Vultures to come and collect some payment?” Charlie yelled up to her. Smiling at the shaking Region Lord, she complied and ordered her Vultures to collect the coppers.

Once the money was packed onto the creature, Charlie smiled and walked to the side of the war beast.

“It was good seeing you today!” Charlie yelled to the Region Lord.

“So then umm…. That’s some money off the bill, right?” the Region Lord said, rubbing his meaty paws together still. As he said this Charlie was already halfway onto one of the war beasts with the help of Ourupadia. Turning, he fined confused.

“No sorry? this was simply just a trade,” Charlie said, making his voice sound stereotypically confused.

“You bastard! You scammed me!” the Region Lord yelled, realising what Charlie had done.

“Scam you? Sir, I just made you pay the correct amount! I’ll see a few hundred million coppers later,” Charlie said, now about to get onto the creature back.

“FIRE! Don’t let those bastards escape!” the Region Lord screeched. Silence.

The guns didn’t fire. Thud. Turning to look at his gunners, he saw another fall, then the remaining eight. Looking to the gate, he realised the Chiefess had disappeared. Thud. Looking back, he saw the third dead on the floor and the Chiefess already placing her knife against the neck of the next victim.

“KILL HER!” the Region Lord bellowed, but no soldiers moved, each too terrified to move as she leapt from person to person who dared to even lift a finger in retaliation.

Charlie looked away, not wanting to show his fear or disgust at the pools of blood beginning to dye the sand.

“Please,” the Region Lord muttered as he stumbled back. Looking to the sergeant of the soldiers, he had a hand raised, signally for none of his men to move, even if they could it looked as if half were too terrified to even lift a muscle against the Chiefess.

Storming over to the Region Lord, Charlie wasn’t sure what she said, but whatever she whispered into his ear seemed to relax him. Grabbing his neck, lifting the man slightly into the air, she then slammed him to the ground. Still, no soldiers moved.

“My apologies your majesty! The Northern Cross backs wouldn’t dare to harm those of such high status such as yourself,” the sergeant said, knowing legends of why the imperials didn’t dare to try and simply invade the native lands. They knew of the mysterious fighting powers of these people.

Not understanding what he was saying, the Chiefess simply nodded before climbing onto the Desert Claimer. Grabbing its reins, she turned the creature and charged it off into the desert. Sniffing the air, she looked at Charlie. Their eyes met for a second, before turning away. He was terrified, and she knew it. Poor creature. He had been through a lot, but if all goes well it would calm things down for him.

Then though she knew they would be faced with a new problem. Finally, he would release and start to contemplate everything that had happened to him. Nolkonoe had told her this and considering she was good at reading people she assumed she was right. After all this, there was bound to be a period in which he hated them. So, while the fire was hot, and his mind was still busy she would do what she could to place thoughts of how good she was into his mind. So, when he eventually began to process everything, he would hopefully see better than bad.

With that thought in mind, she smiled at him. Placing a soft hand onto his head, she whispered in her native tongue.

“I’m sorry for everything, but it's all for you, all so that I can have you, all so that I can love you and you can love me… I love you,” she said before returning to steering the Desert Claimer.