Doom of the Dragons, Part Eighteen: Erindale

Greetings, Guardians, and here's part eighteen of Doom of the Dragons! Here's [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/240544308?page=0&sort=0&showBanned=0&path=1]part seventeen[/url] if you missed it. As usual, if you like it, give it a bump, and I'll get more out soon! Stay classy, Guardians! Magnus acquainted the Guardians with some of his fighters before leading them away to his village. As he did, Marcella took stock of what she saw in the fighters. Their clothes were dirty, but they were well made. Their guns were worn with age, but they appeared in relatively good condition. They men and women themselves appeared strong, and in good health. By the standards of the City, these people had it rough, but they were clearly a sight better off than most of the other refugees Marcella had encountered. However, nothing could have surprised her more than the village itself. Long before the village itself came into view, Marcella saw the tell-tale signs of inhabitation. Giant fields of grain, carefully planted in rows. Long, empty fields full of livestock, farmers watching from a distance. She even saw fields of what looked like beets and potatoes, irrigation trenches running through them. “You guys seem to have quite the setup here,” Kim marveled. Magnus chuckled. “That we do,” he said. “But we need it. We need to feed our people somehow.” “Just how many people are you looking after, Magnus?” Marcella asked. “Oh, I don’t know,” the man replied. “It’s been a while, but at last head count we had four hundred or so.” Marcella gaped. Four hundred. She hadn’t thought that that big a population existed anywhere outside the City! “How do you keep the Fallen at bay?” she asked. “I can’t imagine you can keep this place hidden.” Magnus shrugged. “A bit of a combination of luck and skill, I suppose,” he said. “Patrols used to come in here every now and again. But we were always able to find them first. Eventually, they stopped coming.” Magnus shrugged. “Guess they decided that what little we have wasn’t worth losing any more foot soldiers for. Real problem nowadays is people. Terrence wasn’t just hunting deer, you know.” “Suppose it’s a good thing that he’s a bad shot, then,” Cupun growled. Magnus shrugged. “He was only doing his job,” he said. “This place wouldn’t stay like this for long if a large enough group of bandits found out about it.” Marcella nodded. “I see.” “Last bandit attack was about four months ago,” Magnus said. “We lost twenty good people defending this place.” He looked warily at Marcella. “That woman back there - Yvette - she lost her husband and son in the attack.” Marcella nodded in sympathy. “I’m sorry.” “What happened to the bandits?” Kim asked. Magnus pointed ahead. “That’s one of ‘em, right there.” Tied to a tree ahead was a rotting corpse, wearing tattered clothes. The flesh was blackened and crusted, and red hair still sprouted from the scalp. Hung around his chest was a sign, reading, in all capital letters, “Attack and this is your fate!” “Subtle,” Cupun commented. Magnus shrugged. “It’s worked thus far,” he said. “And I won’t apologize for protecting my people.” “We didn’t ask you to,” Marcella replied. Magnus grunted. The group walked past the rotting corpse, and rounded a corner on the path through the stalks of corn that grew on either side of them. “And here it is,” Magnus said. “Home.” Directly in front of them was a massive town. A wooden palisade stretched in either direction for at least half a kilometer, and the tops of buildings towered over the wall. Set into its front was a four meter tall set of doors. “Welcome to Erindale, Guardians,” Magnus said. Marcella stared at the town. Smoke drifted from the rooftops. “I don’t believe it,” she said. “Believe it,” Magnus said. “I’ll show you around.” With that, the group continued walking to the village. Magnus pushed open the wooden doors, and the Guardians entered the town. Marcella observed the village. The buildings were all wooden, and sturdily built. Most were around twenty by twenty meters, and generally had at least two stories. However, she spied several three story buildings towards the center of town. People walking through the dirt streets stopped to stare at the Guardians as they made their way towards the town center. Two men who were hammering shingles onto a nearby roof suddenly stopped their work as the three armored visited walked by. “I’ll admit,” Marcella said. “I’m impressed.” “We didn’t build it overnight,” Magnus said. “This place took years to create. In my grandfather’s time, it was just a couple of wooden shacks. But we’ve grown it, as best as we’ve been able.” Marcella felt a twinge of regret. These people clearly had a lot of pride in their home, and it was well-deserved. This was the kind of place that only grew because the people in it had given it their very all. “I take it you know what we usually do with settlements,” Marcella asked. Magnus paused for a moment. “I’ve guessed.” Marcella nodded. “We usually relocate people to the City - if they so desire.” Magnus was silent. “It’ll be safer there. You’d have access to medicine, food, water. Free living space. And most importantly, safety from the Fallen.” Magnus remained silent. “You’re asking us to put our faith in you.” “You have enough to let us into your village,” Marcella pointed out. “Letting a stranger into your home is a lot different than following them into the unknown,” Magnus replied gruffly. Marcella nodded in sympathy. Getting refugees to move out could be a difficult task, even when they were at their most desperate. People didn’t know them, didn’t trust them. And above all, they were proud of the living that they eked out in the wilds. And pride could make people do unreasonable things. “I know it’s asking a lot,” Marcella said. “But I wouldn’t ask it if I didn’t think it was the best thing for your people.” Magnus was silent for a long moment. “People will want to know why I’ve let you into the town,” he said at last. “I’ll call a town meeting tonight.” Marcella sighed with relief. “Thank you,” she said. Suddenly, Kim looked off to the side. “Hm,” he said. “That’s interesting.” Marcella looked in the direction that he’d indicated, and saw something strange - a four meter tall metal cylinder, about a meter wide, stood in the ground. Several lights on its sides glowed blue, and at its base was a rusted control console. “That’s something we recovered from the ruins a while back,” Magnus said. “It helps irrigate the crops.” “It’s a hydration unit,” Kim said. “They use them in City hydroponics all the time.” “You’ve seen one of these things before?” Cupun frowned. “Plenty of times,” Kim said. He inspected the cylinder. “It’s in pretty good condition. This is one of the later models, too - it’s got a cylinder for fertilizer - right here.” He tapped a chute on the side of the cylinder. “Fertilizer?” Magnus asked. “You insert the fertilizer in here, and it distributes it through the ground,” Kim said. “It’s actually quite efficient. Also, it’s nuclear powered, if I’m not mistaken. How do you keep it running?” Magnus blinked. “We just set it up, and it started going,” he said. “You’re telling me that it’s nuclear powered?” “It’s got a fairly large uranium battery,” Kim replied. “You must’ve gotten lucky and gotten one that still had a full charge.” “Yeah,” Magnus said, backing away from the machine. He looked at the three Guardians. “The meetings at seven tonight,” he said. “Be there.” [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Groups/Post?groupId=1371758&postId=241179149&sort=0&page=0]Part Nineteen: Council[/url]