In Defence of the Realm - Two Initials

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Dastardly Medieval had been many things: a wandering bodyguard, a private investigator and a bear to name a few; but he'd also been in danger, peril and prison. At present he was none of these – he had absolutely nothing to do. Inside a coffee shop down town of the Land-Regent’s castle he began reading the Plains Times, the only periodical published in this boring little country. Between a robbery at an archaeological dig and the gnomes flouting their inappropriate aircraft over the border, he found what he wanted. The church had half a page asking for low cost protection on a pilgrimage to the south. Before reading any more however, Dastardly felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He turned around to see Waory.

'Hullo, Mr Medieval.'

'Waory? Why are you –'

'No time to waste, Mr Medieval, I am here to tell you about the Land-Regent's mission.' The faux-domo took a seat across the table from Dastardly.

'First, tell me if I want to accept.'

'You have no choice. He said to give you this if you weren't sure,' Waory passed over a crumpled note. The handwriting was all too familiar.

Remember our little arrangement? I believe you still owe me.

- S.R., Land-Regent Elect

'This can't be serious.'

Waory gave him a knowing look.

Dastardly's voice wavered. 'And now he's the ruler?' He had never thought of the man as the ruling type.

'Shall I continue, or allow you to take it up with the Regent himself?'

'No, no – I think this will do.' The freelancer handed the note back, focusing all attention on not quivering.

Waory took it and described the plans.

'The ruling body of the city, that is he and I, are concerned with recent events over the mountains.'

'I need to sneak into the Clockwork City?' the freelancer said. He had dreamt of the ways it could be possible.

'No,' Waory grunted dismissively. 'We understand you have a friend with access to gnome technology, a friend whom we are happy to ignore at present. We would like you to contact this friend of yours and ascertain a way to reach Hox in less than a day.'

'What for? The Turretial hasn't been used in decades.'

'Which gives us good reason to wonder why all of a sudden people are travelling there.'

Dastardly spent precious seconds ruminating whilst staring straight at Waory.

'I have no choice,' he finally said.

'Indeed.'  Waory's smug face stood up to leave, taking his body with it. On the table now sat a modest pouch of money.

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