/It wasn't so much as physical presence-- though ya gotta admit, she was _built_ to intimidate -- so much as her personality. She didn't take crap. Bloody hell, this ain't working. Okay, to get graphic, let's just say that she got the balls that a certain Two River City lord missed when they were handing 'em out at the door./

/I think it was she that told me a real interestin' fact, one that I haven't forgotten since. The secret to success, you might say. And it has always worked, for me./

/It's so very simple, when ya really think about it./

/The equation? X + Y + Z = A. A being the secret of success, 'course./

/X is work./

/Y is play./

/And Z? That's the real important part. Kid, ya listening to me? Hope so, would hate to see ya miss the most important part of the lesson./

/Z is to keep your goddamn mouth shut./

He woke up to the sound of bells ringing. It occurred to him, very dimly, that South Window City did not ring bells unless there was an urgent situation. Climbing out of the fog of sleep, he counted the gongs, and then snapped wide awake at the echo of the last bell. _Ten. Oh, bloody hell._

_Oh, bloody, bloody hell._

He reached awkwardly for his hat and coat, and stuffing his arms into the sleeves, he shoved the hat on his head and was out the door, grabbing Wuffles on the way. The sleeping pooch didn't take it very kindly, but the damnable dog knew when to shut up and settled to being relegated into the
nearest pocket. The door burst open with two violent kicks and a rattle of the knob by him, and he was already running down the stairs the moment a maid started coming up to investigate the noise. He lifted his hat hurriedly to her in greeting and nearly tumbled head down a flight of stairs into the ground when his dog made a high, startled _yip_ at being trounced so violently.

The bells tolled again. /Two… three… five… nine… ten. Goddammit, I counted right the first time./

/How did the bell gongs work?/ he thought, and tried to remember. Two for announcement. Four for a private (if there could be such a word in gossip-laden South Window City) Chamber Hall meeting. Six for a public Chamber Hall meeting, one open to the public. Eight for head officers to convene. Ten for all government officers.

Hell, he /was/ a government officer, wasn't he? Not quite strictly in the official sense, but one nonetheless. And Granmeyer never rung the bells unless it was /important/. Not like Makai, who rung it at every little trouble or mishap. Not like Gorudo, either, who would never ring it unless
the trouble was right in his face.

A carriage was waiting the moment he burst out the door to the inn, one that he recognized was his because he recognized the driver and the handwriting on the envelope that was given to him by the very same driver. Stopping in front of the carriage, Richmond took the letter out of the driver's hand (who, incidentally, was a clerk of Granmeyer's), and looked at the back of the envelope. His name written in Granmeyer's distinctive slanted, sharp letters, the envelope contained a short note penned by the mayor  to ignore the meeting bells. Richmond scanned through the note, frowning, a little disappointed that he wasn't required for the meeting. But more than that, really curious to what the hell was going on.

The other side of the note had some more writing by the mayor. Richmond turned it over and read the short words that brooked no argument: /take the carriage./ Nothing more, nothing less, it offered no explanation and even less reason. Staring at it for a moment, he shrugged, crumpled the note up,
stuffed it in his pockets and climbed in, feeling a bit ridiculous clambering up the steep 'steps.' Wuffles clambered likewise out of Richmond's coat and settled on sleeping exactly in the middle of the seat, leaving no room for the investigator to sit on either side. Bringing a hand close to Wuffles to shove the damn mutt aside produced a row of teeth bared at him; swearing, Richmond yanked his hand back, muttered something, and sat on the seat opposite, glaring. The damnable mutt yawned and tucked itself up to sleep, contentedly, while the driver snapped the reins to start the carriage.

Scenery flashed by; stores he vaguely recognized, unfamiliar backgrounds-- South Window City looked at him, and he looked back, through the fog. The rain from last night had stopped, but the clouds still hung thickly over the city, and a thick mist hung perpetually in the air. Still wondering
what the hell the bells were all about, the detective found a partial solution as they passed by Chamber Hall; drawing the curtains aside, he could see through the fog a knot of people in front of the entrance, dressed in unfamiliar colors. The one thing that was clear was the standard being flown; Tinto's distinctive crimson standard could be clearly seen even through the mist. The bells rung again, ten times, echoing throughout the city.

The carriage slowed to a stop as the last echo of the bell died, and Richmond leapt off the carriage, looking up and swearing at what he was seeing.

/Bloody hell./

He was standing in front of Mayor Granmeyer's home.

"What the hell happened," Richmond said flatly.

The clerk looked haughtily at him, and shoved his glasses up his nose in an effort to look stern; the effect was faintly ridiculous. "I'm sorry, the Mayor is not in," he started, but the detective cut him off.

"I bloody well know that," Richmond snarled. "What the /hell/ is happening? I wake up, the bells are ringing, and ya tellin' me to get lost? Bloody /hell!"/

The clerk looked a little fazed. "I'm sorry--" he started, but Richmond cut him off again.

"No, I ain't taking this crap," he said calmly. "What I personally want to know is what the bloody goddamn hell is happenin' out there. I ain't going to the meeting and I ain't leaving his house because I have an appointment with him. Like it or not. I know ya got the info so goddamn hand it over
before I resort to something called violence. Do ya understand me?"

The clerk started, and then hunched his shoulders over. "All right," he said sullenly. "Granmeyer said that there's been an emergency. Mayor Gustav of Tinto's come here and they had some sort of talk, but it's been so confused that nobody really knows what's going on. I think they were having the negotiations for a temporary alliance but I don't really know what happened." He hesitated, and then said, "Except…"

"Except?" Richmond prodded.

"They're going to ring the bells later this afternoon," the clerk said. "But pretty much everybody knows that Granmeyer is going to--"

"I'm going to do what?" the mayor asked mildly, entering the room. Glancing at the mayor, the clerk shut up and went back to his work. The mayor nodded to Richmond. "I see," he said. "You made it. Come, let's go to my study. There are-- a lot of things to talk about, I think."

"Yeah," Richmond said, following the older man. "I think so, too."

"I don't bloody believe this," the detective said.

The mayor sighed. "I… know," he said. "I hadn't expected it, either." He pinched the bridge of his nose in a weary movement, and dropped his hand into his lap. "The Mayor of Tinto is a very… forceful man," he said. "I wish I could say that he was not looking forward to this war, but that
would be outright lying."

"Ha," Richmond said sourly. "He /wanted/ the war. Ya really didn't think ya could convince him outta it?"

The man was silent for a moment, before shaking his head. "No," he said, ruefully. "Tinto is in rather desperate need for resources. Words-- at this stage-- would have meant nothing." He paused, and said, "Have you… heard anything recently?"

He shook his head. "Nah," he said. "Not at all-- oh, I nearly bloody forgot." Richmond rubbed his head with his hand. "Real stupid, Richmond. Real, goddamn /stupid."/ He leaned against the side of the chair and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, I heard something. Yesterday I found out that most of the
City States already threw in their support. Most of the merchants are really pissed to all hell about this."

Granmeyer sat up straight in his chair, very suddenly. "The mayor of Tinto didn't tell me this," he said sharply.

Richmond shrugged. "Didn't think Gustav would tell ya. There ain't a whole lotta support. It ain't like the other City-States are /helping,/ but it ain't as if they're /interfering,/ either. Matilda don't really give a damn, Muse could care less, Greenhill-- ah, they don't really care so long as they don't get involved because they ain't getting anything outta this. What else? Oh yeah, Two River. Wuss mayor wants some, as usual can't get any-- in more ways than one, ya think-- and just ended up allying with
Tinto. Mostly supplies, though-- a whole lotta merchants are damn unhappy with that because it's cutting down the worthwhile trade routes into Tinto." He paused as he thought for a moment. "Well, that's about it, really. Gustav's getting it all into gear, I think."

Granmeyer seemed to be thinking very deeply; he didn't say anything to Richmond's short speech, but his fingers tapped restlessly against the arm of the chair. The detective sat watching the steady tick of the clock against the wall and waited for the mayor's answer; he had learned early on not to interrupt the thoughts of others. Wuffles had wandered off somewhere, hopefully not causing trouble; the elderly dog wasn't very likely to do anything, really. /Stupid dog,/ he thought. /Would have liked
a real terrier terror, the kind that detectives would really need. But the thought held very little rancor./

When the mayor spoke, it was very quiet. "Richmond," he said.

Something about the mayor made Richmond sit up very straight. "Yeah?" he said, warily.

"Did you find out what the government officer meeting was all about?" he asked.

The detective shook his head. "No," he said. "Didn't have time to do much of anything, really," he said. "All I know is that Mayor Gustav came here. But that ain't much of an emergency; not by /you,/ I'd think. You wouldn't ring the bells just because some damn City-State mayor came into town, but
then again, nobody knows what the hell is happening except you. So, are ya gonna tell me?"

The mayor nodded. "Yes," he said. "I believe the clerk you met earlier was going to tell you had I not come in time. Well, it seems to be a good time to tell, nonetheless. I've agreed to Gustav's decision about the war."

It took a few seconds before it sunk in, and when it did, it fell like a lead weight straight into Richmond's stomach. "Hey, hey, ain't that a little hasty?" he asked. "There's still time-- ain't there?"

The mayor shook his head, and said, very dryly, "Richmond, the very first thing I learned when I entered office is that there is never any time for important decisions. They must be made, and made quickly." He was quiet for a few moments, before he sighed and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "Most of South Window City are happy with the decision, and Gustav is happy. If I'm not mistaken, most of the City-States are satisfied with the decision, if not happy. I've already sent summons to a few of my agents in other City-States."

"Are ya expecting a response?" Richmond asked.

"Yes," the mayor said. "From Annabelle. I've advised her of the situation.  He has an … understanding of what's happening, but not the details, so I've sent her a dispatch concerning the entire situation in much more concrete terms."

Richmond snorted. "Ha," he said. "She probably already knows because of the big fuss that was made /not/ to tell her. Gustav is almost as big of a coward as Makai when it comes to Annabelle. Then again, she ain't a lady you can bend with words."

Granmeyer gave him a faint smile. "She is a strong-willed lady," he said simply.

"No," Richmond disagreed. "Not a lady. Not a woman, neither. Not even a person, if ya really want to get down to it. Hell, she knows what she's doing, and she knows that she scares people. That's who she is. She ain't a lady when it comes to Muse and her job. She's a ball-busting /mayor,/ and
nobody forgets that except ya." He paused, and said, "I think, if ya really get down to it, you're the only person who really knows her."

The mayor smiled sadly. "We all wear masks," he said. "People do. Cities do. Some are harder to see than others. Like the City-States, all wearing masks of superficial harmony with each other."

Richmond smiled. "United in discord," he said. "Heh. Ain't that true. But ya know the truth as well as I do. Nobody ever behaves until we run out of alternatives. That's why we all have masks. Only to look like we're behaving all the time, when we're really all just a bunch of greedy bastards who don't give a damn about others." He got up. "You wrote me earlier about something. What is it?"

Granmeyer sighed, and handed him a letter. "I didn't want to get to this, but somebody needs to know. When Gustav came in this morning, he received a very similar letter; I do not doubt that this is the reason for the other City-States' sudden display of support. Despite what is happening now, we
are still very much afraid of the Empire."

Richmond took it from the mayor's hands, and looked at it, frowning; after several minutes of silence he gave a low whistle. "You sure this ain't a trick?" he said.

"Read it, again," Granmeyer only said.

Richmond took a deep breath, and began speaking.

/"To the City-States of Jowston,/

/"Forgive my rudeness for making his letter short, but I shall be prompt and to the point. The Scarlet Moon Empire plans to invade the City-States of Jowston in the foreseeable future; recent events has rendered this into a very real possibility due to the work of the Toran Liberation Army. My sources say it will be under the supervision of General Kasim Hazil./

/"Mathiu Silverberg."/

Richmond looked up. "Mathiu… Silverberg?" he said, frowning. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"He's a famous military strategist," Granmeyer told him. "Currently working as the strategist for the Liberation Army. He has no love for the Empire, that much I know. His family line has all been involved with war at one point or another-- his father is another famed strategist, current whereabouts are unknown."

"Ah," Richmond said, folding the letter. "Now I remember. He used to work in the Empire, a long time ago-- he caused a lot of grief to the City-States, didn't he?"

"Yes," Granmeyer said. "He did."

"So why's he helping us now?" Richmond asked. "Even if he's working for the Liberation Army, it ain't everyday that you're willing to work with your old enemies."

"That," Granmeyer said, "is something I'm not even sure of."

Richmond looked at him shrewdly. "No, you're lying, ain't that true? There's another reason, and I think I know it, too."

"Then tell me," the mayor said, with a faint smile.

"It's a ruse," Richmond said. "No matter how well the Liberation Army is doing, it ain't strong enough to take on the Empire. The Empire's got nearly a million troops at its command, with or without its generals. I ain't a strategist, but it looks easy enough to me-- he wants the Empire off guard. He wants Kasim outta the way for this Liberation Army of his, and he's desperate enough to use us to help him."

"This morning news also came of the defeat of another general," Granmeyer said. "General Teo McDohl, who, incidentally, is the father of the leader of the rebellion."

Richmond looked at him. "Heh, you gotta be kidding, right?"

The mayor shook his head. "No, it's the truth. My sources tell me that he's an extraordinarily dedicated young man. The so-called liberation army is, surprisingly enough, very idealistic."

Richmond shrugged. "Aren't we all when we're young?" he said rhetorically. He shook his head. "If another Empire general is defeated, shouldn't they be resting now, instead of moving?"

Granmeyer shook his head. "The Liberation Army is probably exhausted now-- but in a rebellion like this, you can't just stop and rest or it loses its momentum. It's only natural that after General Teo McDohl they would target Kasim Hazil, who, incidentally, guards most of the Empire's northern
borders." He sighed. "I was hoping that with Gustav's visit to this city we could work things out. Had it not been for the letter, things might have worked out well enough, and we wouldn't have needed the bells or the announcement for the war."

"Why didn't ya just refuse?" Richmond asked. "You could've. Gustav /needed/ your support, not the other way around."

"I wish it was as easy as that," the mayor said soberly. "But, it doesn't matter what we believe in. The City-States are all riled up by this letter, and to refuse Gustav into retaliating against the Empire would mean losing face and quite possibly South Window's independence as a City-State. We
can't afford to hope that the letter is merely a ruse; even as weak enough as it is, the Empire has enough force to carry out the threat that's implied by Silverberg. The independence of the City-States has been the main priority of all six regions since our founding; it's always been so.
Gustav is using the letter as leverage to force a preemptive strike, if you can call it that."

"'Preemptive'? Ha," Richmond said. "I don't think this Kasim would be trying to take land /now."/

"The City-States believe it," Granmeyer said. "And despite everything, we are all very much afraid of the Empire. It is one of the few points the City-States have in common."

"Of all things to have in common," Richmond said with disgust. "Being afraid of a lousy empire." He got up, and leaned over the desk to hand the letter back; Granmeyer accepted it graciously. "So, it's not as if we got much of a choice, huh?" he said rhetorically, pacing in Granmeyer's study. "Well. We can't back outta it, I guess. So whaddya want me to do? It's not like I can stop Gustav."

The mayor tapped his fingers against the arms of his chair restlessly; he was visibly disturbed by something that he had not a voice to. "Well," he finally said, "you have something of a … choice."

"What do ya mean?" Richmond asked.

"There are two things I want done," Granmeyer said. "It's really up to you; I'll give you the choice. The first one is to go down to Banner and head for Gregminster; I want you to keep me informed of every event, little or big; every single decision made by the Emperor and his remaining generals--
everything and anything that comes out of the capital. That is, I believe, more like your job. The other-- is harder, and more dangerous, but…"

Richmond caught the note of hesitance and spoke. "And what job might that be?"

The mayor paused for a moment to think, and then went on. "The other is to go down with the soldiers on the march to the border of the Empire," he said. "And to keep me informed of the situation with the soldiers. As you can see, it has far more risk than the first choice, but…" He trailed off and looked uncertain.

Richmond grinned. "That's stupid," he said. "Real stupid. But who am I to say, being one myself." He took off his hat and spun it in one of his hands, pacing restlessly, thinking. "Well," he said. "Not much choice, is there?"

Granmeyer shook his head. "Well, there is always the third choice-- to take neither and leave."

"Nah," Richmond said. "I ain't a coward, if it comes down to it. And this ain't much of a choice, really, because you /know/ what I'm gonna take, aren't you?" He stopped pacing and stood directly in front of Granmeyer's desk. "You stupid idiot," he said, placing his hands on the table. "You
paid me, and I /knew/ what I was gonna get into when I decided to deal with the mayor of South Window. And you don't give a damn about the Empire. You give a damn about those /soldiers./ Ain't that true?"

Granmeyer didn't answer, but Richmond continued. "Yeah, it's the truth, ain't it? Nobody knows the real truth because they think you're a real coward for it, but you don't give a damn about that. You don't work for somebody without finding out a little bit about him. Or her. And ya wanna know what I know? I think you're a good man, which is somethin' to say in a world like this. But you don't go about it the right way. You go the damn /hard/ way. And it'll get ya killed one day. But hey, everyone will die at their own time, and ya plan on dying at least knowing what ya did, always,
was /right./ Ain't that true?" Dusting off his hat, he put it on and sat down abruptly, resting his hands against the arm of the chair, grinning like a madman. Abruptly changing the subject, he asked suddenly, "So, am I leaving today?"

Granmeyer spoke. "You didn't even tell me your choice," he said dryly.

"Ain't it obvious?" Richmond answered. "I don't give a damn much about the Empire, neither. I work for people, not kingdoms, not countries, not republics. Take it as it is."

The mayor smiled-- the first real smile Richmond had seen on him today, one of relief, and surprise. "Ah," he said. "I see. No, you're not leaving today. Tomorrow the soldiers are moving out."

"I have a request, though," Richmond said.

"And what might that be?" the mayor asked.

The detective pointed to the sleeping dog. "Take care of my mutt while I'm gone, will ya? I can't take him down south, ya know."

The mayor gave him an amused smile. "All right. It's not such a difficult request, after all. Is there anything else you'd like to ask?"

Richmond thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "Nah," he said. "Maybe some cash to get me through, but that's about it, I suppose. Oh, wait, some info about the Empire would be real nice. I'd like to know where the hell I'm going, at least."

"Done, then," Granmeyer said. "I'll talk to Freed to getting you some reports prepared. I'm afraid, though, that you'll have to read them in the Chamber Hall; most of the info is very recent and not open to the public."

Richmond shrugged. "Not a big deal," he said. "It's only-- what? A five, ten minute walk from here?"

"Then, that's done," Granmeyer said. "I'll have a carriage sent-- no? All right, I'll leave you to your whims. I do have a question, though. Will you accompany the front lines? If you do, then I'm afraid you'll have to leave tomorrow; if not, your leave can be delayed to up to a week if you have
things to prepare and finish up on. It's up to you."

"Hell, why not the front lines. I got nothing else here to do, and besides, that's where all the action is, ain't it?" Richmond said.

"Yes," Granmeyer said. "It is."

"Heh," Richmond said. "What world we live in. We're all toy soldiers, ain't we?"

"No," Granmeyer said seriously. "We're not. Because, you see, toy soldiers who fall get up again. It is only us who do not get up after we fall."

The twilight had deepened into night; the rain from the morning had slackened off, and the clouds had drifted away, leaving a hazy sort of light. The lamplight wavered and Richmond looked up from the stack of reports he was reading to look out the window, before he sighed, shook his head, and went back again to the words crawling across the paper.

/…capital: Gregminster… allies: Dragon Knights (leader: Joshua)…  major exports: fine silverware (Gregminster), metalwork (Lenaankamp), weapons, wood (Kobold, Elf, Pannu Yakuta)… major imports: silverware (Muse), ores (Tinto region), rice (Harmonia)… ruler: Emperor Barbarosa (Conqueror Rune), adviser: Windy (Gate Rune), Leknaat (Gate Rune)…/

The words seemed ridiculous, to him; on the surface, it looked like the Empire was nigh bloody invincible. All those generals, all those powerful runes, all that support by the people… it looked like it truly was united into one empire. And, from the reality of it, he could read in between the
lines-- the crumbling within, the liberation army, the corruption and the politics…

/Stupid, Richmond. Real, bloody stupid./ He had never liked being in the thick of things when it came to this sort of mess. He had sworn to never get into politics, and here he was, in the very thick of things. He liked standing exactly where he thought he was standing-- somewhere, if not on
the side of right, at least not on the side who was wrong. Somewhere that gave him a clear view of the world, tangled up in nothing but the every day problems of others-- little things that made a big difference for somebody's life. But politics… that never made that as clear cut as he would have liked it. Easy to say that he was on the side of right, to help the people out of South Window and Tinto. Easy to also say that it was taking advantage of the Empire's carelessness. Easy to say that the rebel army had the right to be called a liberation of the people; also easy to say that they were nothing more than usurpers…

He stood up, suddenly, while Wuffles whined in his sleep. The mayor had promised for Freed to pick up the mutt tomorrow morning when he was to leave for the Empire; Richmond had been reluctant to part with it so soon, but it seemed like the dog didn't give a damn to where it went so long as there was a warm bed and a doggy treat somewhere. Tossing the papers aside, he went over to the window and looked outside, at the crescent moon half hidden by the clouds. It was very calm, and very peaceful; South Window City had a sense of decorum about it, and even the most boisterous tavern quieted down after night fell. Freed had already left the Chamber Hall; the
young man took his duties seriously and was usually the last one to leave when everything was done. For Richmond to stay even later than the mayor's aide said a lot, most of it damn ridiculous.

"Heh," he said, softly. "This is stupid. Real stupid." Everything was quiet, except for the occasional noise of a pet cat or dog and the flapping of the flags by the city walls. The soldiers of the city had raised the South Window standard in preparation for the march the next day: a rectangular flag with tasseled bottoms, deep red with a horizontal white stripe near the tassels and an elaborate geometric pattern near the top of the standard. It was a very simple design; nothing as elaborate as the Muse
oak tree and laurel standard or as symbolic as the Matilda crossed feather and sword standard. But it was, he reflected, very eerily similar to the Tinto standard, which was even simpler than South Window: a crimson flag with jagged bottoms, bisected diagonally by a white stripe shaded to look
very much like a sword edge; Tinto was famous for its ores and metalwork, after all. All in all, he realized, the South Window standard wasn't much to be loyal to. No real beauty or symbolism about it. But it was something, if anything.

/But,/ he thought, /if ya really get down to it, none of the City-States standards look anything at all alike. And, if ya really think about it, the City-States don't even have a single united standard. Only six standards, all as different from each other as night is to day. All agreeing to stay out of each other's business./

/United in discord. Heh. Wish I didn't hit it on the goddamn nail./

"Hey, Wuffles," he said softly, to the sleeping dog. "Ain't ya proud of me? I'm gonna be like all those good little boys and go to war for my city-state and for my honor and for my dear old mom. Ain't it so very grand."

The dog slept on, and he listened for an answer that wasn't coming.

"Yeah," he said, turning back to look outside the window. "It's gonna be one grand journey, you and me, kiddo."

/And, the next day, I went to war, like all those good little boys of South Window. Just without the illusion it was gonna be all glory and memorable charges./

/You wanna hear a story of mine? Well, then listen, if ya want. Maybe it ain't important to you, but it's important to somebody, out there, and maybe that somebody is only just me./

/I sat with the soldiers, young lads that looked like little boys, and listened to what they talked about. They talked generally about girls, about their dreams, their parents, their jobs, but mostly about what was gonna happen to them. Mostly about grand charges and being a real hero, saving beautiful women and being a real leader. They don't realize what a real hero is-- a person with an infinite capacity for stupidity. That's why heroes are born. Because they do real stupid things. And these kids wanted to do some damn moronic things-- they wanted to be heroes. And they wanted
to be _known._/

/Lemme tell you something. I ain't gonna give a story about how I felt sorry for them, or how I wanted to protect them, bless their little souls. No, I wanted to strangle the little buggers. Stupid little fools, all of them. Not because they thought war was grand-- I didn't know a damn thing about war, what was I to say? --but because they were all willing to throw their damn lives away, something I know about. Not a single one spoke about why they wanted to go to some foreign washpot and kick some foreign butt, but they sure as hell wanted to do it. Ain't like the Empire did anything
to them-- with their parents, I could understand. A whole lotta people grow up scarred, living every single of their damn days on the border, wondering if they're part of this kingdom or that city-state. But they didn't have a reason. Not really. Just wanted to throw their pretty little lives away and
say that it was grand while it lasted, how wonderful about how many lives they laid to waste while they were still alive. They were gonna be _heroes,_ bless their little souls./

/Don't mistake me for saying that it's wrong. I wouldn't know. I ain't a jury and judge. I'm just saying what I feel. You only get one thing for free in this life, and that's your life. Ya gotta admit, it's the truth. And here I was, sittin' there, listening to them, realizing the difference between Me and Them, and wondering how they were feeling about it all. Maybe they noticed that I didn't say anything about it. Hell, why should I-- just another dreary adult in their own world, interfering. Nah, they
didn't think about it./

/That line between life and death-- that's where I draw the line at. I'll charge crazy fees for my work, I'll use under-handed methods to get whatever ya want, I'll lie like a champion if I feel like it, but there's one thing I'll draw the line, and that's right at the edge, right where ya gotta judge if your life is worth more than yours, or somebody else's. I don't care who the person is. Good, bad, ya gotta see it my way: it's all the same in the goddamn end. Face it, we'll all be pretty flower beds one day. Just don't mean I gotta make you one earlier than expected. Just don't mean _I_ gotta be one earlier than expected. I like my life as it is. It's messy, and inconvenient, but it's the best thing I've ever gotten./

/And those boys didn't learn the real lesson in all of this. That people are people no matter what, and that for every single heroic deed they do, somebody else is gonna pay for that. No heroism comes without blood./

/And the real funny thing? Here I was, going to war with these boys, ready to stand right on that edge, to judge somebody else's life. Ain't it so very grand-- here I was,  having spent all of my life doing little things for others, refusing to do a snuff job for money, and now I was gonna do one grand snuff job for free on a whole lotta people who didn't even know the reason why I was gonna do it. I don't even know why I chose to go with these brats to the Empire when I could have been cozy in Gregminster, enjoying the drinks and the beautiful women of the capital. I wasn't doing anything for my city-state and for my honor. That's just a justification./

/Anyways, I think I've been rambling too long. I should get to the point. Well, the point is, we met up with the Tinto forces by the South Window/Empire border and went west through the mountains to avoid most of the godforsaken swamp and marsh. By the time we got to the border of the Empire, we met with no resistance at all. Granmeyer had been right-- they were too busy fighting off the Liberation Army./

/I tell ya, the Silverberg guy knew what he was doing, because as soon as we took the border, the Liberation Army had enlisted the help of Joshua, the leader of the Dragon Knights and was heading toward Kasim's region. It was mostly here that I finally realized what the hell war is all about--/

/It's hell of a lot easier to fight and die for what ya believe in than it is to live for what ya believe in, that's what./

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"Richmond" is (C) Konami This chapter was posted on January 7, 1999 This author no longer writes for Richmond