A week had passed since the rendouvouz just outside the Forest of Lost Spirits.

Trail and error. That’s what the last week held for the Kingdom of Yondel. All over the capital city, soldiers and knights hurriedly moved to organize an expeditionary force to counter the Demon Lord’s army. Reports were unusual, abnormal, and uncomforted, but the growing picture was that the Demon Lord was preparing an immediate strike within the kingdom.

Though life had suddenly picked up within the castle, life was still relatively mundane for the former members of Taskforce Spare. They had just finished a two-hour session of physical training, led by the sharp-tongued Captain Orwell, and his small collection of knights.

Unironically both PFC Green and Simon were not happy of sudden development of doing PT, and their frustration was redirected to Princess Lecca who observed the men as they performed their daily tasks.

Now, however, the seven men waited in a waiting room. Each man waited anxiously as a small group of butlers and maids prepared a warm bath. Sure, they were thankful for the chance to be clean after a week and two days, but Captain Thompson did not entertain the idea of letting their gear fall into ‘enemy’ hands, so he requested that each man brought their gear into the washroom.

Mike tapped his foot against the marble flooring. Small, almost miniscule pieces of dirt escaped his boots making him cringe at the thought of cleaning them afterword’s. Yet this was not the main problem. The thought that remained in his mind was the worrisome thought that himself and the other Rangers were being held back. King Aldrecht had ordered him and the other six to form a taskforce made for special reconnaissance and sabotage, yet even with the taskforce being formed already, he and the others had yet been sent on a mission against the so called, “Demon Lord”.

A cold sweat ran down the side of his head as the doors leading to the washroom opened. “Holy Knights!” Stepping into the waiting room, Princess Lecca’s personal butler stepped out and folded his right hand over his heart as he gave a curt bow, “Your bath is ready.”

“Uh, thanks…” Patterson said while walking inside of the room. The other men followed the Lieutenant’s lead, and it wasn’t long before the men all sat inside the large pool of water.

Finally finding the proper time to clean himself, Mike used the water to remove the blood that had dried on his hand. Wearing a pained expression, he took a nearby bar of soap provided by the butlers and lathered his arms and torso.

“Hey Sergeant, mind if I ask a question?” Simon suddenly spoke up. He sat across from mike, and his brunette hair was fully lathered in soap. After receiving a swift nod from Mike, he continued, “Just was wondering, but how did you get that scar on your neck?”

Lifting his clean left hand and covering the small scar that was on his neck, Mike let out a pained laugh, “It’s about time someone asked me about it, though I would’ve thought the Princess would’ve asked about it first.”

“C’mon just tell me!” Simon said mildly annoyed as he scooped up a bit of water and threw it at Mike who shielded his face with his arms.

“Alright! Alright!” The other men watched with cheeky smiles as Mike got Simon to settle down. Once the sudden ‘firefight’ had ended, Mike couched into his arm as he reminded the men how he had gained the scar, “When I was just a boot, I caught a bit of shrapnel.” He said slightly embarrassed as Patterson suddenly shouted from the other side of the room.

“C’mon you bastard, don’t lie to us, we all know it happened during Ranger School!”

“Hey shut it!” Mike said with a red hue over his facial cheeks. “I told you that grenade incident wasn’t supposed to be mentioned!”

Sudden silence grew. Realizing his mistake, Mike lowered himself back in his submerged seat and covered his face with both of his hands. Patterson and Thompson snickered at the embarrassed Ranger, while the rest looked at him amused.

At the entrance of the room, the large wooden doors swung open. Alarmed at the sudden visitation, the men became alert as they steeled themselves for a possible confrontation, yet after several seconds of observing who the visitor was, the men with the exception of Thompson, Patterson, and Mike quickly turned around in embarrassment and fear.

Of all people, Princess Lecca and her butler entered the warm room fully clothed. Patterson’s face contorted in confusion as he rose from his seat, his wet hair letting droplets onto the floor.

“Princess? Why are you here?” The first one to address the silver-haired woman was Mike. He received an unsure-puzzled look from the woman. “Isn’t this a male bath? Should you really be in here?” He asked while covering his exposed chest.

“A male bath?” Lecca parroted. “What might you mean by that? It is normal for everyone to wash in the same room…” She said questioning why Mike had asked such a question. “Perhaps you mean strangers? Yet aren’t we acquaintances?”

Dumbfounded, Mike could not find the words to answer. His mind was completely shocked, and he froze up. “Sergeant.” From behind him, Thompson called out to him in a reassuring voice, “Remember Sergeant, different cultures.”

Lowering his arms, Mike’s chest became visible, and Lecca observed the man with unassuming eyes. She remained modest in her posture as Thompson once more directed the conversation to her, “So, Princess, what can we do for you? We are not necessarily in the best condition to anything right this moment.” He said calmly while obviously stating that they were not prepared as they were dressed in nothing but towels around their waists.

“All of you need to report to the throne room within the hour. Your combat garbs have been taken for cleaning, so you all have been provided with the military’s standard issue uniform.” She said firmly turning on her heels.

In a flash the wooden door slammed shut and the men who turned away when the princess entered slowly faced Mike who was in a confused-frozen state. It seemed that the events that just occurred were still being processed in his mind.

“Alright!” Snapping him out of whatever thoughts kept his body locked up, Mike instantly faced the owner of the voice, Patterson. “Everyone wash yourselves off, then get your gear set!”

Filling an empty wooden bucket with water, Mike and the other soldiers quickly rinsed the remaining soap lather on their bodies off. Climbing out of the large pool and onto the marble flooring, he moved swiftly towards the waiting room where his plate carrier, battle belt, and other miscellaneous items waited to be collected.

Entering the room, a plethora of white shirts, and brown tunics were placed neatly on the benches, while the gear was half-hazard moved to the opposite side along with the weapons. The sudden thought that someone could’ve snooped through the gear flashed across Mike’s mind, and he was soon joined by the other Rangers in making sure nothing was taken.

After checking in, the group moved to put the clothes provided by the kingdom on. Albeit odd, Mike was thankful that the clothing seemed to fit perfectly. He had no trouble buttoning up the white shirt and putting on the brown trousers.

As he was strapping his multi-cam plate carrier around his torso, Green snickered, “You look like one of those CIA guys we met in Sierra Leone!”

“You’re not entirely wrong Private.” Malkovich said as he lifted his arms and looked at the white tunic adorning him. “The clothes provided look similar to that one photo from the Persian Gulf War.”

“Wasn’t that guy apart of Delta?” Simon questioned checking to see if anyone tampered with his rifle.

“Something like that. Either way let’s get going!” Thompson ordered ending the conversation.

Opening the doors and blowing past two maids who were supposed to help the men get to the throne room, Thompson led the six men unguided down the red-velvet carpets and stone hallways, as Sergeant Malkovich kept watch in the rear.

A feeling of dread came over Mike as he spotted several Royal Guards scrambling to some unknown destination with a plethora of papers in tow. One of the guards almost tripped in his frantic movement, but luckily was caught by one of the butlers who he thanked before running off again.

His pace quickened as he grasped his M-5 tighter. He momentarily saw a flash of gold from the inside of his weapon, reminding him that he had yet to chamber a round. He pushed the bolt release on the side of the rile sending the bolt forward with a bullet encased in a brass cartridge.

The loud click attracted the attention of several knights roaming the halls, but they made no move to stop the Rangers as they approached the throne room. With two maids curtsying the men and opening the doors, the hall grew silent as the seven entered. Princess Lecca stood next to King Aldrecht and Queen Juna. She looked upon ‘her’ Rangers with interest.

“You all finally look the part!” She said cheerfully clasping her hands together with a bright smile on her face. “I must say your armor fits the tunics perfectly!”

King Aldrecht nodded in affirmation as he moved away from the table in the middle of the room. It was obvious that the throne room had become more of a command center as several occupied tables held servants and military personnel handling papers and important documents.

“Ah your Majesty.” Thompson said in a semi-formal manner gaining the ire of the more studious people around. “You called for me and my men? Are we finally being sent on a mission?”

No missing a beat, the king swiftly answered the question, “Yes. You seven will be moving to the city of Bishmark along with the Princess. We have word that a large hostile force is gathering nearby, so I want you and your men to deal with it.”

“Wait, how large?” Patterson suddenly cut in making a nearby guard scowl at him.

“Perhaps a legion, we do not have exact numbers.” The king said in an unsure manner.

The king folded his two hands over one another as he stepped on his heels to face the map once more. Following the old man, the seven too looked at the map which displayed the city of Bishmark. It was a large circular city that had two rivers flowing through the center. A quick observation from the nickname at the top, the “Crown Jewel”, pointed to it holding a vast amount of wealth, thus the assumption that the city was the nexus of trade was easily accepted by those living in such a prosperous environment.

Thompson made several attempts to question where the enemy and friendly forces would be located and why they were being sent with no support, but the king danced around the topic leaving only vague answers such as “we have enough”, or “you’ll have everything you need”, these answers angered the captain, yet he kept his mouth shut.

With no other option, the men removed themselves from the throne room with Princess Lecca following behind. She walked beside Mike and the two broke into small conversation as there was nothing else to do.

“Hey.” Mike said gaining the silver-haired woman’s attention, “What is Bishmark like anyway?” His questioned was followed by Lecca placing her left index finger across her chin.

“I suppose you can say it is the main city that trade occurs within my kingdom.” She said. “Many merchants gather in the city to trade goods and create new business opportunities. There are even new businesses that deal with investors, which is an idea that has recently come from a nearby country.”

“So, it’s like New York?” Mike said to himself.

“New York?”

Recalling a memory, Mike chuckled to himself as he explained, “It’s similar to what Bishmark is. New York, more specifically Manhattan, is the nexus of global trade, and the United States stock market is there where a shit ton of investors gather.” Lecca listened intently, “The world we come from relies on a global market, so it’s important for us to have places where we can manage not only money, but different resources and goods.”

“My, my.” Lecca said. “Your world is truly different than ours. I would like to visit your homeland in the future, I think it would be a worthwhile experience.” She let out a small chuckle and she wore a bright smile, bringing an uncomfortable feeling into Mike’s chest.

“Sure. I wouldn’t be against it, but we’d have to defeat the Demon Lord…” Mike blinked several times and a smile threatened to ruin his plain expression. All he could hear were their two footsteps pressing against the red-velvet carpets. Not knowing what to do, Mike put his hands in his pockets.

“Hey! Hurry up! We need to make our window down by the castle entrance!” Up ahead Sergeant Malkovich called out to the two.

“I believe this can be discussion for another time?” Lecca said while tilting her head towards Mike, her silver hair drooped to the side and shimmered in the limited sunlight. Her smile beamed and her cheerful attitude seemingly removed all tension around.

Holding onto his carbine tight, Mike nodded his head as he momentarily walked backwards increasing his pace, “Yeah! C’mon let’s go!”

Publicly Available Information: Investors and Merchants:

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Investors give the ability for merchants to expand their reach and hold greater wealth amongst the common people.