Manifest Fantasy

Vicinity of the Gateway, Unknown Planet

November 3, 2024

As Henry stepped into the circle, electricity seemed to dance along his skin. The sensation faded as red hues dimmed, the circles disappearing into the air. He locked eyes with the robed figure, whose previously taut gaze softened. The man’s smile seemed to border more on excited curiosity rather than just plain friendliness.

“Ah, your timely arrival, and the strength you and your companions displayed against those malevolent beasts – these are blessings for which I must express gratitude,” the archmage began. His voice carried a slightly lilting tone, words far too articulate and surprisingly, in English.

Henry’s eyebrows twitched slightly in surprise. He was familiar with the concept of universal translators from various shows; evidently, the world beyond the gate was no stranger to it. “This… magic you’ve cast, it allows us to understand each other’s speech?”

The archmage’s eyes shimmered with mirth, “Indeed, you have activated the Circle of Understanding. Do you find this agreeable?”

Henry relaxed, “It’s surprising but very useful. Before we proceed, did any of your men sustain injuries during the attack? We have medics on standby who can assist.”

The archmage glanced back, “Thankfully, the majority are unharmed and the rest are already under the care of our healers, but your offer is appreciated. And so, may I know who has graced us with such timely intervention?”

Henry considered shaking the archmage’s hand, before settling on a quick salute. “I’m Captain Henry Donnager from the United States of America, planet Earth. We – come in peace.” He cringed as the clichéd words rolled off his tongue, but he had to admit, it did sound fitting.

“A captain – a rank of weight and responsibility, no doubt. I am Kelmithus ad Helis of the Sonaran Federation, of the realm of Gaerra. I am an archmage and scholar amidst these ancient ruins, and perhaps, today, a herald to a new epoch.”

He extended his hand, palm open and fingers slightly curled – a universal invitation across cultures, Henry figured. He mirrored the gesture with his gloved hand, finding Kelmithus’ grip firm, yet not imposing.

“A herald to a new epoch, you say?” Henry raised an eyebrow, “So then, you’re authorized to kickstart diplomatic ties between our worlds?”

Kelmithus gave a hearty laugh as he released Henry’s hand, his fingers briefly brushing a pendant at his chest. “The very act of our meeting, Captain, serves as an initiation of sorts. I can mediate, but let us proceed cautiously; the landscape is uncharted for both of us.”

Henry’s eyes tracked the brief touch to the pendant before he refocused on the archmage. The hint of levity in his eyes gave way to a more serious look. “Safety should be our top priority.”

Kelmithus flexed his hand on his staff. “Indeed, Captain. The path ahead is veiled, yet the mere thought is exhilarating. And on the note of safety, your armor – it is quite unlike anything I’ve seen…”

“It’s more than just armor, sir,” Henry paused, searching for the right words. “This suit I’m wearing, it’s not just protection against weapons or the environment. It’s also to prevent the spread of diseases that our worlds might not be prepared for.”

Kelmithus lifted his chin as he scanned the contours of the suit. “Ah, a warding garment then, shielding against spirits of pestilence, or something akin to an enchanted piece to protect against threats such as flames? Fascinating… and wise. It would seem our worlds, though different, share common threats.”

Henry tilted his head. He was sure Perry would’ve handled this better, but he more or less got the point across. “Yessir, something like that. And until we have a clearer understanding of our respective environments, it’s best to exercise caution.”

“I concur, Captain. As you’ve put eloquently, ‘safety should be our top priority.’ As interested as I am in embracing and exploring the unknown, your caution is warranted and wise. On that note, what comes next in your procedures? Are there rites or ceremonies to solidify our newfound understanding?”

Henry felt the weight of the archmage’s words, a strange blend of poeticism and practicality – lyrical, archaic, but easy to understand. Still, it was jarring to him, reminding him of his historic position. “We have a designated diplomat for things like that, someone who can navigate the intricacies of first contact. Would it be acceptable for me to introduce him?”

Kelmithus’ gaze deepened, assessing. “An ambassador, skilled in the art of words and negotiation? Indeed, I believe that would be prudent. However, I must ask: where is this diplomat of yours?”

“He’s on the other side of the portal, in our world. He and our leaders are observing and listening to our conversation, ensuring we move forward with the best intentions,” Henry explained, gesturing toward the devices within his helmet.

The archmage’s eyebrows rose in mild surprise. “An impressive feat of artifice; scrying through contraptions,” he murmured. “So even though we stand in a different realm, they listen and advise from the shadows?”

Henry gave a slight chuckle. “Not exactly from the shadows. Think of it like… scrying… to see what’s ahead of you in a dark dungeon.”

Kelmithus nodded. “Very well. Let us hear from this Ambassador.”

Henry breathed an internal sigh of relief. He knew little about the jargon of fantasy – that was Ron’s forte. Yet, it seemed the archmage standing in front of him understood his message. “Mister Ambassador, I believe it would be best if you made a personal appearance on this side.”

A pause ensued before Perry’s voice responded, “Understood, Captain. Give me a few moments to make preparations and I’ll cross over. Maintain your diplomatic etiquette.”

“Take the time you need,” Henry replied, looking back at Kelmithus. “The Ambassador will be joining us in person shortly. I hope this format will be more conducive to our discussions.”

Kelmithus glanced toward the portal with a sense of wonder and anticipation. “It is a remarkable age we live in, where worlds once separated can now meet with but a few steps. I shall eagerly await his arrival. Until then, Captain Donnager, perhaps we can share more of our own experiences and tales?”

Henry gave a nod, smiling out of relief now that the hard part was over. The opportunity for a more casual interaction was more than welcome. “Certainly. There’s much I’d like to learn about Gaerra, and I’m sure you have questions about Earth as well.”

Kelmithus gazed towards the battlefield, his eyes briefly tracing the remnants of the struggle. “Indeed, I must thank you again for your aid against the fenwyrms. It’s not often one sees such efficiency in dispatching them, especially the Tier 6 fenwyrm lords.”

Henry followed his gaze, grimacing. “So that’s what they’re called. The fenwyrms… They attacked without provocation. We have creatures back on Earth that can be hostile, but these… they’re on a different scale. Do they frequently pose a threat?”

Kelmithus sighed, a note of weariness in his voice. “Indeed. These creatures have been the bane of many travelers and settlements. Especially the warriors and alphas. The spawns, while numerous, are easier to manage.”

“Do they normally appear in packs like this?”

“Not normally. It is likely they were drawn by the intense arcane energies produced by the gateway as it formed the portal.” He leaned in, as if scrutinizing Henry. “Yet, despite the overflowing energies of the Aether, I sense none from you or your kin. Is this absence common among your people?”

Henry shrugged, “Is that what you call the stuff you use to make fireballs? As far as I know, we only have stories about magic. What you see is the result of technology and innovation, without the touch of the ‘Aether’.”

The archmage leaned back a bit – he looked genuinely surprised. “A realm without magic? How wondrous and strange that must be. And yet, you’ve achieved so much. In the absence of the Aether, what fuels these machines?”

Henry hesitated, searching for a simple explanation. “Energy. Derived from various resources on our planet. It’s a… transformation of potential to motion.”

Kelmithus nodded slowly. “Much like the conversion of raw magical energy into a tangible spell. Or perhaps, if my understanding aligns with yours, it parallels the new steam engines crafted by one of the industrious dwarven nations.”

Yet another basic trope that even he – despite his lack of interest in fantasy – could understand. “Yeah, those steam engines would probably be an apt comparison.”

Henry’s answer only fueled the archmage’s thirst for understanding. His gaze sharpened, becoming more analytical. “In the skirmish against the fenwyrms, your prowess was evident. With what means do you channel such destructive force?”

“We have a combination of weaponry: guns for infantry, supported by…” Henry paused, wondering how to put it, “Mechanical carriages with larger guns on them.”

Kelmithus leaned in, his demeanor becoming more like an ecstatic researcher than that of a distinguished archmage. “These ‘guns’ you speak of, do they launch metal bolts? Much like a more advanced arquebus?”

Henry pondered for a moment, drawing from his limited knowledge of the topic. “Yes, similar to an arquebus but more refined. In our history, we had early firearms, a bit unreliable and less precise. As technology progressed, these early firearms evolved into the guns we use today.”

“A path of evolution dictated by necessity and environment. A world of endless curiosities. Your tales would be cherished among our scholars.”

Henry smiled, “Hopefully, there’ll be ample opportunity for exchanges in the future. Speaking of which, the envoy I mentioned earlier, Ambassador Perry, should be joining us momentarily. He’s better versed in navigating diplomatic waters.”

As if on cue, a glimmer from the portal caught their attention. Emerging from the shimmering gateway and descending the hill was a figure, distinguished not just in gait and demeanor, but also in attire. While all suits shared the same pristine white base, this new arrival’s suit bore elegant gold trim and a streamlined appearance, contrasting the muted gray markings and bulky attachments on those of Henry and his team. Both suits displayed the star-spangled banner of their homeland, but the diplomat’s suit also showcased an additional emblem – a silver dove, wings outstretched, positioned above the flag.

Kelmithus observed the approaching figure with interest. “Ah, the promised envoy. He carries an aura of experience and knowledge.”

Henry nodded in agreement, “Ambassador Perry has been through many negotiations and peace talks on our world. We’re hopeful his expertise will aid in forging a strong bond between our societies.”

“Allow me to prepare another Circle.” Kelmithus tightened his grip around his staff, its ornate gem pulsing with a gentle light. Drawing the staff close to the ground, the archmage began to mutter in a cadence, the words unfamiliar despite the translation magic. With each word, the staff’s glow intensified, and the ground before him began to shimmer. The patterns danced and interwove, finally settling into a distinct red circle similar to the one Henry had stepped into. He exhaled slowly, the energy from the staff receding. “It is complete. Please have your envoy step into it, as you have done,” he declared, raising his gaze to meet Perry’s.

“Captain Donnager,” Perry began, his eyes sweeping over the scene, “Looks like the initial contact went well.”

“Better than expected, sir,” he replied. “The magic circle you see here is called the Circle of Understanding. Works like a universal translator.”

Perry moved forward, positioning himself inside the circle. An ethereal glow momentarily enveloped him before settling down. Perry blinked, processing the sensation, then nodded towards Kelmithus. “Impressive. It feels… intuitive.”

The archmage extended his hand. “Welcome to the realm of Gaerra. I am Archmage Kelmithus ad Helis of the Sonaran Federation.”

Offering a warm, respectful smile, Perry accepted the hand. “I’m Ambassador John Perry, representing the United States of America and the greater domain of Earth. It is truly an honor to meet the individual who made this remarkable first contact possible.”

Kelmithus quirked an eyebrow. “Were you the seer behind the earlier ‘visions’? The shapes and arithmetic?”

Perry gave a slight nod, gesturing towards the rover. “Indeed. Through that device, I relayed our symbols and numbers, a way to establish a foundation for our interaction.”

Kelmithus’ gaze lingered on the rover. “It reminded me of controlling a homunculus or viewing through the eyes of a summoned golem. Though, your method was devoid of magic, an intriguing thought.”

Perry acknowledged the remark with a nod, shifting the conversation toward the immediate concerns. “While our meeting today holds promise for both our worlds, our primary concern is the safety and well-being of everyone involved. Earlier, your men faced an attack by those creatures. Is there any immediate medical attention required for your people?”

“The Captain was quick to offer aid. Fortunately, our healers have already tended to the wounded. But I sense your approach to vitality is vastly different from ours.”

Perry agreed, “It is. Still, it’s heartening to know your people have been taken care of. I believe in the value of exchanging knowledge. Understanding each other’s methods of healing can only benefit both our worlds.”

“A collaborative approach could be most beneficial,” the archmage agreed. “While our healers employ both natural remedies and magic, it would be fascinating to learn of your techniques.”

Perry chose his words with care. “On Earth, our methods of healing and protection are rooted in understanding the tiny, unseen organisms that make up our body and the environment around us. Some, we call pathogens. They are so small they cannot be seen with the naked eye, but they can cause illness.”

Kelmithus pondered the explanation, his eyes alight with curiosity. “An intriguing notion. It resonates with some ancient writings. They speak of a world teeming with life, not all of which can be seen. So, these… pathogens, you’ve found ways to observe them?”

“Yes,” he responded. “Through devices that magnify, we can observe them.”

“Perhaps akin to our divining magic that reveal hidden curses. And these invisible agents, if from our realm, could pose a threat to yours, or vice versa?”

“Exactly,” Perry replied. “There’s potential for unpredictable reactions when the organisms of two different worlds converge. It’s why we tread carefully.”

A thoughtful expression passed over the archmage’s face. “I surmise then, it is this knowledge that prompted the protective armor your men don. It shields not just against the seen, but the unseen?”

Perry affirmed with a nod, “That’s a succinct way to put it, Archmage. Before progressing further, we’d need to ensure no harmful elements affect either side. This would involve collecting samples from the environment and Gaerran organisms, including samples of bodily fluids.”

Kelmithus appeared to frown before returning to a neutral expression. “Your vigilance is commendable. We can coordinate with your scholars to ensure this balance. While magic can detect and deter many impurities, melding our methods with your unique approach will make our joint efforts more robust.”

Perry showed no sign of his internal relief. “It’s heartening to find understanding and cooperation in such an alien landscape. In addition to our immediate concerns, I believe it might be beneficial to have linguistic and cultural teams from both our worlds convene. The Circle of Understanding provides a bridge, but deeper understanding will foster even stronger ties.”

“Your words hold great wisdom, Ambassador. There is a city nearby, Eldralore, which would be an apt place for your scholars to immerse and learn, and for diplomacy to be officially discussed.”

“That sounds promising,” Perry replied. “We’ll need time to prepare our delegation –,” he paused, looking at the time conversion plastered on his HUD. Apparently, Gaerra had a similar daily rotation to Earth. “We can convene here in seven days. Will that provide adequate time for your people to prepare?”

“That should be sufficient, Ambassador,” Kelmithus confirmed.

“During this time,” Perry continued, “We would like to set up a permanent base of operations near the portal. This will facilitate our communication and aid in the safety and wellbeing of both our people.”

Kelmithus tapped his fingers around his staff. “The Grenden Plains is considered neutral territory. There are no holdings or treaties preventing you from building here. We will have a few specialists and scholars remain here, both to aid in your protocols and to share knowledge. Once you’re ready, we will escort your delegation to Eldralore for the official talks.”

Perry offered a handshake. “Archmage Kelmithus, I feel very optimistic about the future of our two worlds. We have taken the first steps toward a meaningful relationship.”

The archmage grasped Perry’s hand firmly. “Indeed, the potential here is unfathomable. I pray this marks a new epoch of prosperity and knowledge for both our civilizations.”

——

Grenden Plains

Armstrong Base

November 10, 2024

Henry’s boots pressed into the soft grass, leaving a faint trail behind him. Patches of terrain had been cleared, and signs of early groundwork for infrastructure were evident: rudimentary paths, communication equipment, construction vehicles, and tents. Over the last week, remains from the battle against the fenwyrms were cleared out and prefabricated structures had sprung up around the portal’s perimeter, with a semblance of order now overtaking what was once unknown wilderness. The sound of machinery in the distance added a constant backdrop as he approached the prefab command center. By the gateway, a handful of mages prepared translation circles for new arrivals.

Stepping inside the metal structure, he was immediately met by the hushed buzz of conversation. The round table in the center was covered in Sonaran maps of the region and various reports. While there weren’t any satellite images, drones had done their part in capturing aerial views of the terrain leading to Eldralore. Nearby, a screen displayed an interactive map generated from the reconnaissance data, giving a bird’s eye view of the convoy route.

General Harding stood at the opposite end of the room, eyes glued to the screen. Perry and Lombard were already seated, chatting with other personnel and shuffling through piles of reports. As Henry took his place, one of Lombard’s assistants handed one such report to him. He skimmed it. Great news, relatively speaking: all signs looked good for biological compatibility, so at least they could breathe the air without much concern.

Clearing his throat, General Harding began, “Thank you all for gathering. We’ve had a week in Gaerra, a week of adapting, of coordinating, and of laying down our first footprints on this foreign soil. Reports are promising. No harmful pathogens to speak of, no errant weather patterns to worry over, and our personnel have been updating protocols based on local flora and fauna interactions.”

Henry nodded, recalling the meticulous checks he underwent after every external patrol. It was reassuring to know that Gaerra’s environment was, at the very least, not overtly hostile.

Ambassador Perry took the cue. “On the diplomatic front, our conversations with Archmage Kelmithus and his associates have been fruitful. We’ve established primary terms of engagement, and the Sonarans have been more than cooperative.”

General Harding leaned in slightly, placing both hands on the table. “We’ve been fortunate so far. The Sonarans have been invaluable in teaching us about the local wildlife and guiding our recon. But here’s the hard truth: while we’ve chased away most of the hostile fauna and secured a clear path to Eldralore, there are pockets out there that are unpredictable.”

Henry studied the route highlighted on a screen ahead. A network of blue lines signified rivers, and patches of green hinted at forests. But what caught his attention were the grey symbols – caves and ruins. “Any significance to these?”

A voice beside him chimed in. It was Kelmithus, wearing an attire less grand than their first meeting, but no less majestic. He also wore a plate carrier vest under his robes – a sight that continued to jar Henry. “These are local cave systems and forgotten ruins. They might appear dormant from the surface, but they’re historically known to be hideouts for bandits, brigands, and other miscreants, not to mention the presence of beasts that claim them as lairs.”

Henry’s grip tightened on a new report. He’d seen what these ‘bandits’ could do during their attacks on merchant convoys, if Ron's anime shows were to be believed. “We’ve been using the intel provided by our Sonaran counterparts throughout the week to shape our strategy. With everything we’ve gathered, are there any last-minute adjustments or recommendations you’d advise?”

General Harding, after a brief moment of contemplation, replied, “Our drills and simulations incorporated everything we’ve received. Today, we finalize and fine-tune these plans based on real-time conditions and any additional Sonaran input. We need to ensure all teams are synchronized and ready for contingencies.”

As the words left the General’s mouth, a junior officer rushed into the tent, holding up a tablet displaying a drone feed. “General, we picked up minor activity roughly 10 miles ahead on the route to Eldralore,” he remarked, tapping on the screen to expand the drone feed. It showed an overhead view of a meadow. Faint wisps of smoke rose, suggesting a small campfire. From the aerial perspective, there was no discernible movement in the vicinity of the smoke, no visible figures, nor any indication of it being anything more than a solitary fire.

Kelmithus examined the feed. “That’s close to the footpath used by adventurers from Eldralore seeking ancient relics in the nearby ruins. It’s not unusual for them to set up camp. They usually travel in small parties.”

“Hmm…” Harding crossed his arms as he considered the new information. “We’ll make some adjustments. Let’s include an extra UGV and have an armed drone provide escort above the convoy for increased visibility and rapid response.”

Kelmithus inclined his head, “Considering the complexities we might face ahead, I suggest being present in the ‘em-rap’ alongside Ambassador Perry and Captain Donnager. I can help facilitate dialogue with my countrymen and my knowledge might provide additional safeguards against magical threats we might encounter.”

Henry exchanged a glance with Perry, who subtly nodded in agreement. “Having an expert in magic sounds like a logical measure,” Henry remarked.

“Very well. Before we finalize the formation, let’s introduce you to some key members who will be accompanying this mission. They’re specialists, each chosen for their unique expertise, ensuring our convoy’s security and the success of this delegation and beyond.”

The General got up from the table and walked toward the exit. They made their way toward a garage, where a group of vehicles and a line of individuals in varying uniforms awaited them. He gestured towards the first figure in line, “Many of you already know Lieutenant Ron Owens. He was among the first to step into this world, guiding our initial exploration.

As Owens gave a curt nod, the General’s hand moved to the next two figures. “Isaac Yen and Ryan Hayes, specialists sent from Langley. If anyone can help us understand the complexities of Gaerran society, it’s them.”

Both Yen and Hayes gave casual nods, their reactions betraying the cryptic introduction provided by General Harding.

“Next,” Harding continued, his finger pointing to a man who seemed like a middle-aged college professor yet carried himself like a trained soldier, “is Dr. Victor Anderson. His name might ring a bell for those who have been with the Manifest Project for a while. He was instrumental in decoding some of the enigmatic artifacts, building the groundwork for the gate activation. He’ll be accompanying the delegation to study Sonaran culture up close.”

Dr. Anderson’s face, etched with lines of experience, broke into a small, appreciative smile.

Harding concluded the introductions, “Supporting them will be elements from Zulu-9. Their experience with the local fauna and reputation should speak for themselves. Now let’s get to work.” He gave a nod, signaling the beginning of the operational phase.

The garage buzzed as the convoy prepared to depart. Personnel approached the MRAPs, conducting final inspections of their gear before jumping in. The Bradley-sized UGVs stood ready, awaiting their directives. Technicians conducted checks on their weapons systems, ensuring that the missile pods were fitted with both SACLOS and Hellfire units for a balanced loadout.

Kelmithus, sharing a few last words with Perry, gestured towards a group of Sonarans climbing into carriages led by lizard-like pack animals. “Our dradaks are prepared, and my knights stand ready. Together we ensure a secure passage.” With measured steps, he headed into the lead MRAP.

Henry followed behind Kelmithus, claiming shotgun as he sat next to Ron, who was already seated at the wheel. “All set?”

With a thumbs-up, Ron responded, “Systems are green, Captain. Just waiting for the Sonarans.”

The dradaks ahead let out a strange cry – a mix between a roar and a neigh – before trotting forward and leaving the confines of the rudimentary base. The American vehicles followed closely behind, their speed limited by those of the Sonaran mounts. The outside landscape, a blend of Gaerra’s unique but familiar flora and fauna, served as a serene backdrop to their journey.

“This terrain really makes me feel like I’m in one of those isekais,” Ron mused, taking in the pristine European-like countryside ahead.

Dr. Anderson leaned back, shifting around to make space for Kelmithus’ staff. “I’ve seen a lot of great environments, but nothing quite like this. I’d say this is straight out of a Tolkien work, though the ecosystem here is mind-bogglingly diverse – nothing like anything I’ve read so far.”

“A bit too diverse for my liking. The wildlife is hella aggressive,” Henry commented. “I’d rather not have another fenwyrm surprise.”

Kelmithus chimed in, “The scrying accomplished by your ‘drones’ should still hold true. It is unlikely we will see a surprise assault on the scale of the one at the ruins. The incident there was unique: as long as we do not use mana to the extent of the artifact, we need not worry about luring beasts.”

Perry spoke, peeling away from the scenery at the window. “We should arrange a joint training session sometime. Exchange some best practices. We can show you our tactics, and you could teach us how to… develop magic capacity?”

Kelmithus laughed before clearing his throat. “Pardon me, Ambassador, but learning magic might be more of a challenge for you than you think. All inhabitants of this realm are born with some level of mana; I know not how well our teachings and methods of training would apply to those without mana. However… I’d be curious to see one of your ‘drones’ up close."

Henry glanced at a screen displaying the drone’s feed. “That can be arranged. But right now, our focus should be on that forested region up ahead. Kelmithus, you mentioned adventurers frequenting areas like these?”

“Yeah, how exactly do adventurers work around here?” Ron seconded Henry’s question, interested more in the conversation than the road.

All eyes turned, hungry for lore about this world. The archmage chuckled, his gaze momentarily shifting to the forests outside. “Ah, adventurers. Quite the diverse lot, bound by thrill and challenge. They generally operate from the cities, enrolling in guilds that assign them quests. These quests can be anything – seeking ancient relics in forgotten tombs, collecting materials or herbs, handling rogue beasts that trouble villages, even assisting townsfolk with larger tasks. In return, they earn both coin and recognition, advancing through established Tiers as they gain experience.”

Dr. Anderson adjusted a pair of glasses, his scholarly curiosity piqued. “These Tiers… they signify some sort of ranking system?”

Kelmithus nodded, “Precisely. An adventurer starts at the lower echelons, say Tier 2 or 3, and as they complete quests and prove their mettle, they ascend the ranks. Achieving Tier 10 status isn’t trivial – it’s a testament to an adventurer’s skills and renown. Most in Eldralore would accord significant respect to a high-tiered adventurer, especially one who could rival a company of knights and mages.”

Ron smirked, glancing at the passengers behind him and then back to the road. “Sounds like a fantasy MMO.” He turned toward Henry, “Maybe you’ll finally enjoy the genre once you experience it in real life, dude.”

Kelmithus raised an eyebrow. “Em Em Oh?”

Ron attempted to explain, “They’re games, but simulated.” He paused, searching for a way to relate the concept to the archmage. “Imagine a scrying spell that allows you to see a different realm. Within this realm, you can control a version of yourself, much like a golem. This golem-like avatar can interact with others, go on quests, and face challenges, all within this fabricated world. Millions from Earth participate in these simulations at the same time, interacting with each other, but all within the safety of this make-believe environment.”

Kelmithus looked intrigued. “A fascinating concept. So these… Em Em Ohs, they allow individuals to experience adventures without real consequences?”

“Yeah, it’s a way for a lot of people to escape reality,” Ron said.

Kelmithus nodded, “Oh, if only we had such abilities. The perils adventurers face here are undeniably real. Forests such as the one we’re approaching are rife with both treasures and threats. They tend to attract both fledgling adventurers eager for recognition and seasoned ones searching for rarer challenges.”

Perry interjected, “Given these forests are often frequented by adventurers, how should we perceive them? Potential allies, possible threats?”

Kelmithus pondered for a brief moment before responding, “Likely allies. All adventurers sign contracts during the registration process. By signing, the adventurer agrees to stipulated terms, which often include clauses about the respectful treatment of locals and abiding by local laws. Violations of these contracts incur damning consequences. While there may be some unscrupulous individuals within the guild, they would never dare devolve into banditry. Most adventurers are helpful souls who would come to the aid of those in need.”

“Huh, guess we won’t have to worry about getting betrayed by party members for being useless, eh?” Ron quipped.

Kelmithus opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden forceful impact against the MRAP’s window cut him off. An arrow, glowing with a slight luminescence, slammed into the reinforced pane and embedded itself within the layers, leaving behind a spider-web pattern on its surface.

Before anyone could react, another louder thud resonated, causing the entire vehicle to shudder. Looking ahead, they witnessed a massive boulder crashing down on one of the Sonaran carriages, splintering it under its immense weight. Almost simultaneously, the once-stable ground beneath them morphed, turning into a sludgy mess that gripped the MRAP’s tires and tugged at the Sonaran dradaks. The dense, oppressive green of the forest came alive with enemy movement, forming a claustrophobic corridor of potential threats on all sides.

From the treeline, a blazing streak of light – unmistakably a fireball – hurtled toward one of the UGVs. Upon impact, it exploded with a force reminiscent of a WW2-era bazooka. The flames and smoke danced around the UGV, the sheer force of the blast creating a concussive wave. However, the vehicle’s armor held, showing damage no more superficial than some scorch marks. Arrows and sharp stones flew at the convoy as earthen spikes erupted from the ground. But against the American vehicles, these attacks left mere dents and marks.

The sudden impacts jolted everyone inside. As Ron repositioned the vehicle in a staggered defensive formation alongside the other MRAPs and UGVs, Henry immediately reached for the doors and barked orders. “Ambush, three and nine! Dismount and take cover!”

“Bandits!” Kelmithus exclaimed, “Prepare yourselves!”

A whistling arrow barely had time to embed itself into the MRAP’s armored skin before Henry was in motion. “Perry, Anderson, stay close. Ron, stick with the knights!” Door latch released, rifle up, boots hitting dirt; the transition was seamless. He pressed his back to the MRAP’s thick tire, eyes darting through the scope.

Before Henry could even shout an order, Zulu-9 was already laying down fire at the treelines. No pause, no hesitation – just the guttural thump of .50 caliber turrets alongside 30mm autocannons and the strident echoes of rifles firing in unison. Accompanying it was a translucent barrier of magical energy, hastily conjured by the Sonaran knights as they filled in the gaps between and beside the MRAPs.

Tapping the trigger, Henry’s XM7 spat 6.8mm at silhouettes darting through the trees, each shot a calculated elimination. Perry and Anderson hunkered behind another MRAP, flanked by Ron and a duo of Sonaran knights. In seconds, the forest edge had been transformed into a graveyard of felled bandits and smoldering trees.

Without missing a beat, Henry snatched his radio. “Pioneer to Armstrong, Tango-Mike. Magic users confirmed, heavy contact. Uploading coordinates. 10 mikes from Eldralore. Request immediate QRF.”

A voice on the other end crackled to life, “Armstrong to Pioneer, copy all. QRF spinning up. ETA 20 minutes.”

Henry tucked the radio back, his gaze flitting between the forest line and his HUD where the coordinates blinked, uploaded. “Armstrong, Pioneer copies. Make it quick,” he responded. His eyes narrowed as he reviewed his team’s positions, a tactical overlay alive on his visor. Everyone was holding, but 20 minutes was a lifetime in a firefight.

A guttural scream echoed in the forest, cut short by the percussive drum of a .50 cal. Henry continued to sweep the burning greenery for more signs of enemy activity, catching a glimpse of a red circle hovering in the air. “Mage, 2 o’clock by the large boulder, 50 meters!”

A heartbeat later, the nearby thud of an anti-materiel rifle followed. One mage crumbled, a plume of red mist replacing where his head and neck had been. Another recoiled, clutching a bullet wound in his shoulder, his incantation faltering.

“Nice shot, Hayes,” Henry praised, eyes still trained for the next threat. “Knights, hold position. Their magic’s faltering.”

Suddenly, he heard a scream of agony beside him. “Man down! Medic, on me! Covering fire!” Henry barked. The downed soldier was quickly dragged back by Yen and Hayes, laying him behind the safety of an MRAP, his arm bleeding profusely.

Yen was on him like a shadow, hastily unzipping his medical bag. “Hang in there, Harris,” he muttered, prepping a morphine autoinjector and jabbing it into the man. “You’ll feel a little sting,” he said, but the soldier hardly seemed to notice; his face was a contorted mask of pain and adrenaline. After quickly cleaning the wound with antiseptic wipes, Yen looked up. “He’s ready for you.”

A Sonaran knight stepped forward. Incantations spilled from his lips as he chanted about vitality and life. His hands, hovering over the wounded arm, began to glow with a soft yellow aura. A wave of light washed over Harris, the glow intensifying around the wound. The skin seemed to knit itself back together, the torn muscle fibers rejoining.

A war cry tore Henry’s attention away from the miracle. Silhouettes of warriors, moving with inhuman speed, dashed from the trees as the rain of arrows and spells died down. Despite their enhancements, their swift advance was cut short. The lead storm from the convoy’s guns, combined with the larger rounds from the MRAP turrets and UGV autocannons, halted them in their tracks.

As the intensity peaked, a distinct whistle sliced through the noise, followed by discernable shifts in the forest. The bandits, who moments ago were launching a determined onslaught, began pulling back rapidly, their forms fleeting as they melted away into the dense woods.

“Cease fire, cease fire!” Henry’s voice thundered. His vision pierced the diminishing smoke, the scope of his rifle scanning the treeline. He could see the figures receding – what remained of the bandit force. He then turned to his men. “Status report!”

One of Zulu-9 spoke up. “Two injured, but they’re good now thanks to that magic.”

“Roger that.” Henry rallied his men. “Secure the perimeter! Zulu-9, cover all flanks! Get some drones in the air!” While Zulu-9 members and Sonaran knights promptly established a 360-degree security perimeter around the convoy, the drones overhead maintained vigilant scans of the retreating bandits, ensuring no immediate threats lurked nearby.

“Vehicle check!” Ron shouted, already inspecting the MRAP he had driven. Teams began evaluating the convoy vehicles. The UGVs, though splattered with mud and marked with scorch marks, appeared operational. The Sonaran carriages avoided destruction, enemy attention having been diverted toward the deadlier American vehicles instead.

Henry’s gaze shifted to Kelmithus. He stood tall, shimmering staff in hand, conferring briefly with one of his knights. He then turned to survey the battlefield, his eyes lingering on the gore past the convoy’s perimeter. He spoke softly to a wounded knight before placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. A soft glow emanated from his palm, and the knight visibly relaxed.

Kelmithus then caught Henry’s eye and walked over. There was a solemnity in his gaze, one that told of a man who’d seen the horrors of battle and found them wanting. But there was something else – respect, perhaps, or the recognition of an uncomfortable truth. Henry could only speculate, but whatever it was, it suggested the day’s events had left an indelible mark not just on the knights but the archmage as well.

The forest had gone quiet now, save for the distant chatter of birds resuming their interrupted songs. “Archmage?”

“Your weapons,” he mused, his voice tinged with both respect and revulsion, “make even the wildest magic seem tame. It’s as if they’ve channeled the unforgiving, indiscriminate wrath of nature itself.”

Henry took in the fallen trees and the smoky air. “We’ve engineered them to be effective. It’s not about fair fights; it’s about ending them before they escalate.”

“Yes,” Kelmithus said, removing the arrow from the cracked window, “On that, our realms find common ground. This was no mere opportunistic attack. Their sorcery was too refined; the level of coordination speaks not of banditry,” he observed.

Henry nodded, going over the surroundings. “Let’s ensure we’re secure first. Then we’ll dive deeper into who and why. Think you can clear the mud out and move the boulders ahead?”

Kelmithus nodded and took a deep breath, walking along the mud-engulfed path. He extended his hands, fingers splayed, and raised his staff. The air around him shimmered, vibrating with energy. Slowly, the thick mud began to recede, condensing back into solid ground. Simultaneously, he directed his attention to the boulders obstructing the way. With a focused, sweeping motion, the ground beneath them shifted, causing the massive rocks to roll to the side of the path, creating a clear passageway.

He made his way back to Henry. “It is done.”

Henry gave him a nod of appreciation before reaching for his radio. “Pioneer to Armstrong, situation green. Ambush repelled, path clear.”

A brief silence ensued before a response came through. “Armstrong copies, Pioneer. CASREPs?”

“Four minor injuries, equipment operational. Proceeding to Eldralore.”

“Copy that, Pioneer. Continue to update. QRF en route; ETA two minutes. Will rendezvous and provide escort. Armstrong out.”

Ron approached Henry, “Yo, we gonna move forward or we gonna retrograde?”

“We’re moving forward. QRF’s gonna join us.” Henry stowed the radio, addressing the team with urgency. “Mount up and move out. Stay alert; we’re not out of the woods yet.”

The team quickly regrouped, the familiar hum of engines filling the atmosphere, meshing with the low murmurs of discussions and the rhythmic clinking of armor. Everyone got into formation, preparing to continue the journey. As the convoy began to move again, Perry turned to Kelmithus, who sat by the cracked window. “You mentioned earlier that this wasn’t just a mere bandit attack, Archmage?”

Kelmithus replied, “Indeed, Ambassador. Their tactics were too coordinated, the spells they wielded too refined. They were… organized.”

Perry nodded slowly. “Could they be affiliated with a larger power or entity?”

Kelmithus sighed looking at the cracked window to his side, “I have my suspicions, though it’s too early to say. Their knowledge of magic, especially the more strategic spells,” he said, touching the window, “might suggest connections to one of the major players in South Eanif. Most likely the Nobian Empire, given their proficiently planned ambush, but that’s merely conjecture at this point.”

“Archmage, regarding the individuals your knights have detained… It might be mutually beneficial for us to jointly understand their motives. Would it be possible for our teams to collaborate in gathering information from them?”

Henry looked back and added on, “It’s imperative we understand the full scope of this attack. We have methods and techniques that might be unfamiliar to yours, which could yield results.”

Kelmithus raised a brow, intrigued. “A valid point, Captain. I’ll speak with our knights about arranging an interrogation that includes both Sonarans and Americans.”

The convoy transitioned from the dense canopy of the forest to a path that gradually unfurled into sprawling vistas on either side. Fields of golden grain swayed gently, and distant herders guided flocks along the rolling hills. But it was the sight ahead that captured Henry’s full attention: the majestic city of Eldralore. Towering spires rose skyward, their intricate stonework hinting at skills and craftsmanship long perfected. The formidable walls, battle-scarred and time-worn, watched over a line of visitors, citizens, and merchants at the gates.

The MRAP’s engine purred as it slowed its pace, joining the line behind merchant caravans pulled by sturdy dradaks, their laden carts filled with vibrant textiles and exotic goods. Nearby, farmers in sunworn hats looked up from tending to their fields, their expressions oscillating between curiosity and astonishment. Guards, with crests emblazoned on their armor, patrolled the city gates, casting wary glances at the unfamiliar convoy. Passing adventurers paused to gawk, only to be turned away by Kelmithus’ knights.

Ron leaned into the wheel, his face getting closer to the windshield as he looked out in awe. “So we’re finally here.”

Henry followed Ron’s gaze, taking in the sight and pulling out a camera to snap a picture. Perry and the other passengers looked out their windows, similarly entranced by the otherworldly view.

“Indeed,” Kelmithus said, unfastening his seatbelt. “Welcome to the city of Eldralore.”