The Pendragon pack—which the group of car-obsessed mercenaries called themselves—were, by all accounts, pleasant people. They’d greeted the Knights as old friends and with open arms. They quickly set up their tents and grills. Then busted out alcohol with whip-lash-inducing speed. Not wanting to be ungrateful or take advantage, they brought rations to share and reciprocate.
Overall, these people belonged to a completely different world. There wasn’t any judgment from them, simple curiosity about him and the rest of the Knights, but not careful calculation. Night and day separate from the isolation common to the noble courts.
“Look a little lost, tin can. Why don’t you park over here and take a breather?” An old man said with a graying beard and a broad smile; he had crow's feet and slapped a hand on a wooden stool beside him, not too far from his car.
It wasn’t something that could support Erec’s Armor naturally, but that was the purpose of support servos. Erec gave an unsure look around him as the rest of the Knights dissolved into the Pendragon pack, which was their objective, after all. Boldwick essentially vanished with their leader to discuss whatever they wanted to discuss. Garin, Olivia—the Duke dragged Colin off to socialize with strangers.
There wasn’t any place better to be than on that stool with this man, as Erec saw it.
“Talking to you, tin can. I dig the spikes on your metal. Real rocking look, man. I dig it. C’mon already; sit down and chat for a while. Does a bottle bribe you enough?” he dug into a small bin, pulling out a glass bottle with a cap on it.
It wasn’t a bribe, or at least not a good one for Erec. But he was already feeling awkward with the attention on him, so he gave in. Erec walked forward and ‘sat’ on the stool, using his legs to lock into place on the seat and reduce the weight going to the shabby wood. “I’m Erec. It’s a pleasure. So, what… Exactly is your rank here?”
“Rank? Pah, nobody has a rank except the Dragon, I suppose. But he’s off chatting with your Dragon—so that’s that. Name’s Yniol.” He pulled out a knife, slipping it under the bottle cap, and with a quick jerk, it popped. Bubbles rose from the liquid as he pressed it into Erec’s gauntlet with enough force to rattle it against the steel.
Erec hesitated as the man reached into his bin for a second bottle, then gave in. His free hand tapped the side of his helmet, raising his visor and exposing his face. With these people's genuine and wild display of warmth, there was a low chance of foul play.
Even if there was, with the Knights literately close and among them, Erec doubted any of these people were strong enough to take them down. Call it overconfidence, but wearing a steel suit and having multiple Master Knights left Erec feeling safe. These people would need serious power hidden away to stand any chance in a fight.
Erec brought the bottle closer to his nose and caught a faint whiff of citrus, which was shocking. He'd expected nothing near his quality from the wasteland.
“Bottled in Vega, they got a little bit of everything,” Yniol laughed, picking up on Erec’s confusion.
“I’ve heard that name before.”
“Really? Thought you tin cans kept to yourselves and a had firm stance of smashing any wastelander that came near. Lot of surprising stuff today, but what’s life if not surprises? But, I guess if you’d heard of anything, it’d be Vega.”
“Don’t know much about it, to be honest, heard it from someone who was incredibly awful. Actually, that was the first outsider I’d met.” Erec looked at the amber glass in his hand. Seven-Snakes would pay eventually.
“Mhmm, that so? I’d say most interactions out here with unknowns—got a coin toss of them either not caring for you or wanting to destroy you and take your shit.”
“It must be hard living out here.”
“Aint cushy, but there are places, like Vega, where you can go and see the true depravity of man.” Yniol leaned forward and gave a gap-toothed grin. “Our Dragon spends a lotta effort keeping us on our leash there, but no helping it—place to be wild. Drinking, gambling, fighting—I might’ve landed myself in a ditch if I didn’t have my pack backing me. But nothing else like it. One of the best places there is; different people from everywhere, it’s like looking into a Rift.”
That many people gathered together and so lawlessly ran… “How do they survive if it’s just chaos? And why don’t the monsters destroy it? Do they also have walls?” Any bit of information he could get might help, especially since, at this point, he knew this Vega had to be one of their destinations.
“Oh—Walls, I’d heard you tin cans had some crazy-big ones, but nobody dares gets too close. No, no, no. Vega doesn’t have walls. More like… a bubble.” Yniol outlined a dome shape with his hands, “Mage Council keeps it going. If anything big tries breaking it, they take care of the problems. Humans get a pass-through, but it aint free. As long as you can pay, anyone’s allowed in.”
Erec let that sink in as he tried the alcohol—it bubbled against his tongue and had a slight tang with a distinct orange flavor. Good. Way better than anything he’d expected to come from outside the Kingdom, but that made him nervous.
He’d been taught to believe they were the last of humanity within the Kingdom, and anyone outside of the walls was doomed to a quick death.
But this information shattered that already cracked understanding and left him scratching his head to wonder how big other groups of humans could be out there—or how many.
“It seems the Goddess didn’t play favorites with our Blessing as the priests told us,” Erec said.
“Oh, the red priests? Aint called a blessing, tin can. It’s payment from that bitch in the sky for what she did.” Yniol leaned back in his chair and looked up. “What she left us after wrecking what we had. Damn her, biggest monster there is.”
With that bit of blasphemy, the conversation became a more mellow discussion. Yniol had no reservations about sharing candid details about the world—from his experience with troublemakers and whores in Vega to his pack's long trips across the wasteland. The stories he told were captivating, but the sheer variety of information and details Erec didn’t know left him in the odd position of not knowing what to ask or what might be the most useful.
“We’re on a mission,” Yniol said carefully; by now, more of his pack had gathered around to talk. Many people left Erec tired, but he struggled to maintain his personality and not withdraw back into himself. “Bounty from the mage council, real bastard, but the money is the important thing. Usually is, for us.” He shrugged.
The conversation returned to more mundane things. Stories about their adventures and tracking down bandits. Then, of course, pack gossip that they floated out, the sort of thing that Erec felt shocked they'd get into in front of an outsider. No matter what, these people appeared comfortable.
They lived so free. Always on the move, Erec couldn’t help but admire how dangerous it was to roam the wastes like that. Around any road might be a monster powerful enough to decimate them, and they spoke of groups of people who’d that’d happened to.
But they were happy.
After hours, Erec grew decidedly more exhausted by the constant conversation. Nursing two bottles of seltzer didn’t do much to alleviate that.
It wasn’t long after hitting his limit that Erec made an excuse to get up and away from the crowd. He tracked down Boldwick, who permitted him to do a small scouting operation. Either it was due to pity, or Boldwick was too busy with his discussions to mind, but in short order, Erec was walking off into the wasteland to clear his head.
Erec stared at the setting sun as he walked, finding relief in the purple horizon.
“How is it that being around them was more exhausting than the last week of travel?” Erec asked quietly.
[You tend to pay attention to every little tick when it comes to social situations; with all your processing power being used on that, it’s logical you’d run low on energy. But that was quite interesting, don’t you think? I’d wondered how other groups of humanity had been dealing with the changes in the world.]
“They’re so much different than the people in the Kingdom. But at the same time, they’re more authentic than the courts.”
[As expected. Your society maintains a strict hierarchy within the nobility and especially those below. There's also a trend towards being formal and distant from people you’re unfamiliar with. Obviously, their group is far more open and also has less of an emphasis on status. However, when you consider why your Kingdom is the way it is—namely, to funnel resources and power to your upper class and ensure their strength to keep outside threats away and prevent internal revolution—the resulting dynamics within your group make sense.]
Erec’s eyes trailed the distance as VAL rattled off its theory. Now that he was a good mile from the group and relying on himself, he had to be aware.
There was a movement to the distance that almost seemed natural. But something was off.
“If you were anything else, I wouldn’t put as much credit in that, but I suppose you’ve seen and learned things I’d never have the chance to.”
[Humankind is particular, ornery, and very clever. How you adapt to your environment is always interesting, even if it’s not my primary field of research. Wait until we see Vega; I suspect you’ll be in for a world of culture shock.]
“I can’t get over the idea of charging people to get in their city—at first, I thought it wrong, but then, they at least allow people in, while we label them as sinners…” Erec squinted. Yeah. Those movements by that cloud of sand, everything about it was screaming at him. “Is that a fight coming our way?”
[Uncertain. I’m unable to identify it, but it does appear to be headed right toward us. Likely a monster, yes.]
“Wonderful, let's shelve this talk for now.” Erec cracked his knuckles and grinned. Everything he’d hoped for. If there was anything that’d get his heart pumping again after that draining afternoon, it was this.
Erec radioed in Boldwick that he was about to investigate, and the Master Knight gave him the go-ahead to close distance.
They could stay back there gathering info. He wasn’t much use in that realm anyway, but this? Erec was made for this.
“Thank the Goddess.”
With glee, Erec pulled his axe from his back.