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The Lost Ones. Ch.13
🕑 Added 2023-10-10 09:42:21 +0000 UTCChapter 13
The Best Intentions, Part Four
“Get up, you lazy bastard!” When Joe got downstairs, Annalise was yelling and banging on the spare bedroom door.
“What’s up?” He asked.
“He’s drunk again!” Annalise sighed. “I’m sorry, Joe. He’s been drinking every night for weeks.”
“I know,” Joe frowned. Cristoff was a puzzle. He seemed to go downhill more and more every day. The larger the village got, and the more people leveled, the more of a drunk he became.
And Joe was all out of patience.
He strode forward, his power more than enough to snap the lock on the door. Even the sturdy ones in the Protector’s Mansion. Over the last month, the last few upgrades and expansions had converted it from the Mayor’s house to his.
There was a smaller Mayor’s House a couple of streets over now, but Annalise preferred to stay close.
Joe didn’t mind; he had even given them the master bedroom while he took the top-floor rooms for himself. He loved the tower, often spending time sitting there and looking over the transformed village before bed each night.
“Cristoff?” He called as he entered the gloomy room that stunk of booze. “Are you awake?”
“How could I not be,” He mumbled. “With that nag of a wife of mine banging on the door.”
Joe frowned at the slurred words. They had already discovered that Paladin’s Grace could not cure being drunk. It did help with the hangover, strangely.
“She’s worried about you, man.” Joe said, “And so am I.”
“Hah!” Cristoff spat, “That’s a laugh. No one needs me anymore.”
“You’re needed for the town meeting in an hour!” Joe yelled, sick of the pity party already. “Look at the state of you!”
“It’s your fault!” Cristoff snapped at him, “Most of the new people don’t even know who I am.”
“Because all you do is drink!” Annalise snapped from the doorway.
“What else is there to do?” Cristoff said morosely.
“Why not level,” Joe offered. “We could have you level ten by the end of the day!”
“Everyone else has,” Annalise said tartly. “Most of the Paragon’s Party lead training runs every day.”
“Paragon’s Party!” Cristoff spat. “Paragon’s Party, Paragon’s Village,” He looked at Annalise, “Paragon’s Whore.”
Joe was too stunned to move.
Annalise was not. She sent a bolt of ice at Cristoff that caved in his chest on one side.
Joe managed to heal him before it was fatal, but only once he had managed to get Annalise out of the room. By the time he was done, Annalise was gone.
“Vile creature,” Cristoff hissed at the empty doorway, “She tried to kill me!”
“You called her a whore,” Joe said impassively. “What did you expect?”
“She’ll leave me,” Cristoff dissolved into tears. “All because you came.”
“No,” Joe said, anger flaring in his chest, “She’ll leave because your a pitiful drunk who spits on your good fortune and calls her a whore.”
Cristoff took a drunken swing at Joe, and he simply let the man hit him. He barely felt it. So Cristoff did it again.
Minutes later, Cristoff lay weeping on the floor. Both his hands were broken in dozens of places. Hitting a higher level in a drunken rage was a bad idea.
He had only injured himself, Joe having merely stood there.
“If you drink again,” Joe said calmly, “We are done. I’ll throw you out of this house and appoint a new Mayor.”
Annalise was gone for most of the day. Joe decided to give her time to process things, but he did leave her a note asking her not to murder her husband. The man was a broken wreck; she should not stain her hands with needless blood.
The house was empty when he returned from training a party of villagers for the day. Cristoff’s things were gone, but so were Annalise’s. As Joe searched the house, he noticed more and more things missing. There was no doubt in his mind that the pair were gone… but where to?
A quick search of the village yielded the answer.
The pair were moving into the Mayor’s House. Both of them. Together.
Joe wasn’t sure why that bugged him, but it nearly sent him into a rage. He had to take a few moments to do his breathing exercises before he could fix his face into one of concern and walk through the gate and up the path.
A few weeks of training with Joe had done wonders for Annalise. Already a reasonably good-looking woman, she was now beautiful, powerful, and confident in a way Joe always had to fake. Seeing her fawning over the wreck of Cristoff was obscene.
“Annalise, we should talk,” Joe said stridently.
“Not now, Joe,” Annalise said easily, “We need to finish getting this stuff in the house.” She barely glanced at him. “I’ll come by your place after we’re done if it’s urgent.”
Joe stumbled slightly. This was not how he had gotten used to her acting. Or anyone, to be honest. In his old life, people may have been respectful because of his Parents, which he despised, but in this world, their deference was something he had earned.
“Now, Anna,” He said sternly.
“Very well,” Annalise sighed. “I’ll just put this down and be right with you.” She proceeded to carry a heavy desk into the house while Joe tapped his steel-capped toes on the cobbles.
“What’s up?” Anna asked when she came back out of the house.
“What do you think you are doing?” Joe gestured at the house behind them.
“Cristoff and I are going to move in here,” Annalise said happily, “We need some time to work things out, and that’s easier when we are alone.”
“He called you a whore, Anna,” Joe said. “What is there to work on?”
“He was drunk, jealous, and miserable.” Anna said coldly, “I knew he was feeling down, but I ignored him because I was having fun. The drunkenness was his fault. At least part of the jealousy… was mine.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Joe insisted.
“Haven’t I?” Anna laughed bitterly. “I was so wrapped up in my own things that I forgot he needed me. We are partners; you can’t abandon your partner, ignore their thoughts and feelings, and then claim innocence.”
“That doesn’t excuse his-” Joe started.
“Excuse!” Anna gaped at him, “How does he owe anyone an excuse?” She waggled her finger in front of Joe. “It explains what happened, at least to a level I am happy with. Am I pissed? Of course, I am.” Anna sighed. “But that is something that he can make up to me.”
“This is a mistake, Anna,” Joe said simply. “You are too close to it. I have to save you from yourself.”
“It’s none of your business,” Annalise said sharply. “And not your decision.”
“Isn’t it?” Joe said. “I am the Protector and the Paragon. I say what is best here, not you.”
“Neither of those things gives you the right to control who people love,” Annalise said with a look of disgust on her face. “You may own the village, but you don’t own me.”
“Then get out of the Mayor’s house,” Joe said plainly. “If you do this, Cristoff will not be Mayor, and neither will you.” He turned to walk away, pausing at the end of the path. “When you come to your senses, I’ll be happy to take you in.”
============
The next few weeks were awkward in the extreme. It turned out that Joe had no idea how to cook, shop, do laundry, or any of a dozen other things in this world. He just hadn’t noticed due to the everpresent Annalise.
What is more, it took him over a week to realize that he had never appointed a new Mayor, and the people of the village were starting to fall apart without anyone leading them. More and more, his party members, minus the stubborn Anna, were having to skip training runs to deal with matters in the village.
That was when Joe learned a crucial factor in the survival of independent villages was the hunting and gathering parties that his people ran.
With fewer of them heading out, less food came in. And less resources, and less everything.
When the Elementalist, Andrea, came to see him at the end of the second week without a Mayor, it was because things were getting dire.
“They want a new Mayor,” Andrea sighed, slouching on a couch in his sitting room. “And honestly, so do I.” She stretched. “I want to be out fighting, not pissing about in here.”
“So have them elect one,” Joe said, growling around his burnt dinner. “What are they waiting for?”
“You fired the old Mayor,” Andrea laughed. “They want you to pick the new one.”
“Can’t they do anything themselves?” Joe huffed. Bad food, rumpled clothes, and irritation had left him feeling drained and grumpy lately.
“Bad day?” Andrea asked, eyebrows raised.
“Bad week!” Joe grumped. “This place has gone to pot without Anna, and I’m getting fed up waiting for her to come to her senses.”
“So don’t,” Andrea said. “Get some people in to do all this shit. You’re the Paragon. They should consider it an honor.” She smiled wickedly, “I know a few that would be more than happy to see to your needs, all of them,” She waggled her eyebrows comically.
Joe laughed, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease a little.
“Can you sort it out?” He asked. “Not the other stuff, just some people to help out?”
“Consider it done,” She leaped to her feet. “They’ll be here in an hour.” She paused at the doorway, “About the Mayor?”
“Who’s good?” Joe asked.
“Ann-” Andrea started.
“Other than those two,” Joe said sternly.
“I’ll look into it.” She promised.
The following day, Joe chaired a meeting. The leaders of the various groups in the village were there. The head of their new crafters, the head of their new guards, his party members, and Anna and Cristoff.
Joe wasn’t happy to see them there but tried to hide it.
“We need a new Mayor,” Joe said curtly. “And we are sorting this out now.”
“Annalise or Cristoff,” The crafter’s representative said instantly, “They are the best.”
“They need time and peace to work on their marriage,” Joe said, his eyes burning into Anna’s. “Such as it is.”
“Even so,” The Guard’s rep said quietly. Joe disliked the guards. They were simply trainees who were too scared to keep going out into the madness as far as he was concerned.
“If the village needs us,” Anna said, her eyes never leaving Joe’s.
“No,” Joe said simply.
“No one else is qualified!” The crafter said in exasperation.
“The Paragon said no,” Cole’s voice was calm, but his gaze was full of anger. “Did you not hear him?”
No one else suggested Anna or her husband. Joe cut through the argument as none of them could agree on a candidate.
There would be no Mayor. Instead, the job would be done by a committee, one that did not include Anna or Cristoff.
As he left the meeting that day, Joe felt better. He had taken care of the problem without causing upset. It was the best of both worlds. Anna would continue to learn her lesson, and the village would be taken care of.
That day, he drove the trainees harder. His own level even passed thirty in the process.
Three days later, as he was returning from the latest foray into the outside world, which was currently rolling fields of short grasses with little lakes that attracted the nearby wildlife, he saw Anna and Cristoff moving houses again.
“What happened this time,” Joe smirked as he went by.
“You did,” Anna snapped. “After how you acted at the meeting, no one will let us live in peace!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Joe laughed before his mind caught up with her words, “Wait, what?” He turned, but Anna and Cristoff were gone.
He meant to go after them, to find out what was going on; he really did.
But the life of a Protector was a busy one, and it got a lot busier in the next minute when over a hundred people poured into the village.
“Great Protector!” A man in armor saluted and dropped to one knee in front of Joe, “We are the remnants of a nearby village. It was on the verge of ruin, so we set out in hope of salvation.” He looked up, a determined look on his leatherlike face. “A scout of yours found us, and learning of your deeds, we came.”
The entire group fell to their knees in front of him, holding their hands up in supplication.
“We swear to serve the village; accept us,” A hundred voices in perfect sync.
“You are welcome, of course,” Joe said; it was an automatic response. Not for a second did he think of doing anything else. In the shocked silence that followed, a hundred problems presented themselves. Did they have enough food? Could they house this many? And so on.
Joe shook himself.
He was a Paragon, and he would help everyone. In the ensuing rush to settle and feed everyone, not to mention spending carefully banked influence that was for an emergency on a large expansion, he completely forgot his encounter with Anna.
The integration was not a smooth one. There were fights over food, places to live, and even places on the training teams. It was stressful in the extreme. The situation reached a crescendo on the fifth day. The land had changed again overnight, this time to an area deemed the Warlands. The only land type dreaded more was the Land of the Dead. A peculiarity of the Warlands was that mobs could and would attack the village directly. It would only happen three times; the whole thing reminded Joe of a wave defense game.
The first waves came and went easily, but the third was HUGE. Everybody needed to fight, and it seemed some of the lower levels shied away. From both villages. They lost three people, and the mood was grim.
“Toss 'em out to be changed!” A voice in the mob shouted as everyone surrounded the two dozen low-levels who had refused to fight.
“Scum!” Another person shouted.
There were calls for exile, execution, seizure of property, you name it.
In truth, Joe struggled to care about the cowards. They had let others die for them and deserved whatever they got.
But!
Joe was determined to be a Paragon in all ways. That meant being forgiving.
“Hold!” Joe called, and the mob quieted. Not only was he the Protector, and Paragon, he was a good ten levels higher than anyone else in the village.
“Do you expect a Paladin to condone mob justice?” He said coldly. “These poor wretched, cowardly creatures would only have died. They would have simply gotten in the way if they had no will to fight.”
The crowd listened, and the mood changed. The more Joe talked, the more the low levels were seen as pathetic rather than traitorous. Still, there was a lot of anger.
“We can go beyond the walls,” A tremulous voice called. “But still be in the village.”
“Let them live there!” The crowd took up the call. “They’ll be protected without darkening our door!”
In the moment, it seemed like a small thing. They would have to build their own homes and things, but they had almost a mile around the village under control now. It was enough. Also, they could always level and prove themselves.
“Done!” Joe said to loud applause.
===========
Joe was on his way out with his party, the horrific Warlands replaced with a familiar Shroom Forrest two days later when he saw the shanty town. It clung to the walls, made of oiled leather, wooden scraps, and trash. Despite all that, it was familiar to him. He had seen these kinds of things in other places, back on Earth.
In those days, he had wondered how they were allowed to exist. Why didn’t the leaders do something? It stayed in his mind as he led his group away from the village gates. He had to do something about it, lest he became the very leaders he used to criticize.
If moving them back into the city was not an option at the moment, he would simply have to raise their living standards. It was charity work, after all.
It was a busy day among the stalks as he shepherded a full hunt beneath the shadows of the now fully inflated mushroom caps.
He listened to his party, now filled with the addition of the man who led the new villagers. Sully was a Captain and a good one. His entire village had been transported from another world and had not fared well.
Things had seemed even worse than the state he had found Ditch-Water in.
“Did you have classes and levels where you came from?” Joe asked when they took a brief rest.
“Only a certain few,” Sully said. “And the Church forbade magic until the last few years before I left.”
“What changed,” Joe asked, watching the caps above them wave gently in the breeze.
“The time of silver and shadow,” Sully said with a haunted look. “This world is a special kind of hell, but it is better than what I left behind.”
The conversation ended there as a large group of Shroom Stalkers ambushed them, but the man’s words shook Joe.
There was a look in his eyes…. One he had never seen before.
By the time they passed back into the village, Joe was still feeling chilled. It was a strange sensation but one that he did his best to ignore. He was glad to see the Shanty Town was looking a little better, and a few of them were training against low-level beasts.
Someone had taken pity on the outcasts, it seemed.
Joe decided to let the shanty town be for now. It seemed to be making them work harder, even if it was only out of desperation.
They would be grateful for it, in the end.
