We're Doing What Now?

I had been loaded onto an airship with a squad of tough looking guys (all unclean shaven, muscely, grunty) given a backpack, a pistol with some magazines (kept in a shoulder clutch now, I guess draw holsters had gone out of style?) and a change of clothes (my prison greys just didn't fit with this set) I also shaved because I'm not a mongrel unlike these soldiers so I looked more presentable. The leader of the group was talking in front, but I wasn't really paying attention because I never generally do. The man next to me who had a bunch of tattoos and arms bigger than my legs looked me over.

"What are you here for?"

"I was told I'm here to provide expertise." Shadelia had told me that I had expert knowledge of the enemy, which was a complete lie I hadn't dealt with them in sixty plus years, but you know she got me out of prison so this was the least I could do.

"You dealt with these guys before?" His name because it becomes important later instead of me just calling him Muscles was Slats, I don't know if that was a nick name, or first name or whatever, he just went by slats.

"Like sixty years ago." He pulled back to look me over again.

"Damn grandpa you look good for eighty."

"More like great by a lot grandpa, but thank you I do appreciate the compliment." Slats was holding a rather large looking rifle of some sort, it was belt fed and I could see the bullets draped around his body, he also had on the same backpack as I did.

"So where did they drag you out of?"

"Prison."

"Wow no shit? What did you do?"

"Countless things, but this one was for being in the wrong place at the wrong time." Slats nodded.

"Yeah I did a stint in the brig for breaking and officers nose, so is it true what they say about prison?"

"Is what true?"

"You know with all the man on man time in there, men get lonely." I knew what he was getting at.

"Completely a myth in all my time in prison I've never been sexually assaulted or propositioned."

"Maybe they just don't think you are good looking enough."

"Preposterous." He nodded and went back to listening to his superior who was going over some plan of attack I couldn't make heads or tails on. I also didn't know why we were taking an airship to our target area as we weren't making a trek to the lands of the west, instead we were assaulting the coast where the westerners had made land fall and attacked, we could have just taken a truck but apparently that was a bad idea. I guess if I listened to the commander I would have known why, but why would I ever do something silly like that? I actually got some comfortable huddled between two massive dudes I fell asleep, I was only awakened when I was rudely ejected from my airship. I know I thought it was very impolite as well!

And Now I'm Good, So Lets Go To War

"Do you want me to remove those shackles?" Shadelia had gone through all of things that had changed (weapons used magazines which held ammunition and were easier to reload than the old cylinder one at a time, also they were dual action, which meant firing was all in a trigger pull not in the hammer, moving vehicles were called cars and trucks based on the rear end it appeared and they ran on natural fuels mostly, oh and Morley ran a damn company now too though he much like Hanlon has been nowhere to be seen), when she was done I felt very very old.

"Oh these right sorry." I took off the shackles with a bit of a flex of my wrists.

"You could have done that the whole time?"

"Well I have been wearing them for a long time Shadelia, and before you ask why I didn't escape I had no where to go and no knowledge of how to get there, part of being a necromancer is knowing I can play the long game, and I did mostly." I didn't tell her of course prior to my rescue I had been wrestling with deciding to kill my jailer and escape for days, but that was also because I hadn't seen the old bastard for a few days and as much as I don't normally need to eat I do get hungry after three days. She simply smiled and then reached behind her desk to retrieve my sword. I'd left it behind at my shop years previous and frankly it was surprising it didn't get melted down or stolen along the way.

"I believe you'll probably need this even though most people don't use words for anything but letter opening."

"Well I'm a bit old fashioned I always used fire for letter opening."

"Doesn't that destroy the letter?"

"Yes, yes it does." Now everyone who wrote me now knows why I never write back!

"I also have a bunch of your journals in which you admit to crimes beyond mention, Mr. Lorentino in the future I'd not write down those."

"If I don't I might forget."

"Well at the very least you might want to use a type writer, for legibility, your handwriting is a mixture between illegible and badly spelled."

"It only looks badly spelt!" No its actually badly spelt, look at how I spell definitely most of the time, I add an a, I also do that vocally in case you wanted to know where the glitch occurs.

"Well now that you are sorted."

"Right right I have to go to war my favorite part of coming back."

"And welcome back Mr. Lorentino." And with that I set out on war, because of course I did, I swear its like I worship the fire god without even knowing it.

Shadelia Lorentino, The Nicest Mass Murderer Ever

"Sit down Trezlan." Her office was sparse though I could see she had paintings up, one of Hanlon that had an "Our founder" nameplate, which wasn't entirely accurate from what I knew of the company, but honestly the Hanlon arms that exists now hardly bears any resemblance to the company the old man I ran into hundreds of years ago ran. The chair was nice though, comfy cushions hard backed, from my time in prison and the airship this was a creature comfort I missed.

"Are we actually related?" It was the question that kept hitting in my head, I didn't recall being with a woman who could have borne a child, but its not impossible I mean I do have a lot of lost time incidents.

"No, my people were of a tribe that had never had interaction with anyone of your blood line until recently." My people at least explained the extremely black skin, she wasn't from around here, which opened up more questions.

"And so you took my last name?"

"Because Hanlon bought your store and needed someone to run it, instead of claiming to be a new owner I took over it as your niece, it worked fairly well and I liked the name so I kept it. My first name is Shadelia."

"But your friends call you Shad?" Behind her eyes I saw a flash of something I couldn't place.

"No one calls me Shad Trezlan, just like no one calls you Trez." This was true, I'm not exactly a nick name kind of guy.

"Where is Hanlon anyway? He never had factories before and now he has a massive complex." It was confusing even more so than the scarred woman who bore my last name.

"Things have changed, Hanlon is away," She paused before saying away, it was odd as if he had been banished or left for some reason, "Though he's still around, finding you was one of his last orders to me before he left, everyone else thought you were dead, but not Mr. Hanlon he knew you were not, how he came to that knowledge I do not know, but he was not incorrect."

"Well I'm glad he still believed in me."

"Indeed, and you came at a great time for me, we're supplying a war and with a foe you well know."

"Who?"

"The lands of the west."

"The guard attacked the lands of the west?" Shadelia chuckled.

"No they attacked us." And with that I realized the world I knew had really changed in a way I could not understand for some time.

Meeting Ms. Lorentino

It had been a long time since I'd seen a Hanlon factory. To put it bluntly I have no idea how Hanlon supplied anyone with weapons when I lived in the Guard, only that he did, the shipments just magically arrived without having ever been constructed or carried there it seemed. Apparently in the sixty years since I'd been in rotation that had changed.  The building the airship approached was massive, with multiple other airships on location and I could see workers scurrying about putting things on more of those carriages I'd seen in Ronerawth (those these clearly burned fuel as I could see the smoke rising off of them). The airship was directed in by lights to one of the landing pads and with a thump we were on the ground. Ordinarily this would be the point I would stop and ask a lot of questions, but my rescuers were very abrupt men and hauled me off the landing zone to the facility proper brushing past workers as we went.

The factory was awash in noises and industry, weapons were being constructed in huge assembly lines, checked at other locations, and packed for shipping elsewhere. I had never seen so many people in identical jump suits before. I was taken a back at the whole thing. I mean I assumed industry was a thing now from all the things I could see from the tower, but it was something else entirely to see it happening. Especially at a Hanlon facility which I didn't even think existed anymore. We moved away from the factory wing and came to administration. I could see names on doors that were all shut eventually arriving at the end of the hallway which had a young woman sitting at a desk wearing glasses moving her hands around on some machine that made clicking noises. Behind her was a door labeled Lorentino, and I could hear shouting coming from within.

"You tell that small dicked General if he wants his gods damned weapons on time he'll be prompt in paying the bill, otherwise I'll sell them to his enemy and he can deal with the finest weapons ever KILLING THE SHIT OUT OF HIS MEN!" The shouty voice finished and a man in a military uniform came scurrying out clearly frightened of the person who just ripped him a new one. Lorentino was short, and not just to me, she was at best around five feet tall, and pitch black, as in her skin tone matched the color description. I could also see her face appeared scarred from either an explosion or someone trying to carve it off. Her clothing was very business like three piece suit with a tie, if not for her breasts at a distance I could almost confuse her for a man because of the short hair.

"You may see Ms Lorentino now."  The secretary had finished whatever she was doing and briefly looked up at my squad of mercenaries. Lorentino looked as well first with anger and then a softening expression.

"Is that him?" I realized at this point I couldn't recall ever having something in my image, like no paintings or anything. I resolved I wouldn't do that again and have since sat for four paintings and several "photographs" a new technology that blinds the shit out of you and then captures your image.

"It is indeed, payment?" Chauncey was holding my shackles like he was going to keep me should Lorentino not pay. I could tell from her face this was an unwise decision. Lorentino waved to the secretary and she pulled out a case and handed it over to Chauncey. He released my shackles and went to leave.

"Not going to count it?" I didn't know what they were using for payment now, back in my day money was handled in bags not cases.

"Shouldn't have to." And with that Chauncey and his men left. And I was alone with Lorentino.

"Come inside Trezlan we have much to discuss." I almost felt like I was a fly jumping into a spiders web, but that was just paranoia, turns out Lorentino wasn't at all a bad person, quite pleasant actually, which was weird for someone who works for Hanlon, though to be fair I've only met a few of those ever and most of them I think we're not even real. 

But I'm Lorentino!

"Air Travel is safe? Bullshit!" The bearded man who went by Chauncey was cursing at the pilot of the ship (I could tell he was the pilot because he was by the steering apparatus, which looked kind of like a sailing ship wheel except a little different).

"Well it was safe up until you blew a hole in a tower, than they kind of figured out we weren't just a passing air ship Chauncey you can't expect them to leave us alone."

"Lorentino said we would be." I perked up when I heard my name, because I figured I had not contacted these guys at all. I mean I don't know maybe I had new powers of suggestion I previously never come up with. The men on the airship were all dressed in black and had different looking firearms than I'd ever seen. At least I assumed at the time they were firearms they were carried in a way that suggest they were.

"I did?" I was still being looked over by the person who seemed to be a healer of sorts though he wasn't using any healing magic or herbs that I'd ever seen. All told there were six of them including the pilot, though more might have been sleeping below in the cabin of the ship I wasn't sure.

"Not you our employer." I was very interested in meeting the boss who went by my name, since to the best of my knowledge I was the only made up Lorentino around. Chauncey consulted with the guy looking me over in hush tones. I couldn't make out everything, but I could definitely hear he was a bit worried about the condition I was in.

"How you feeling Trezlan?" Chauncey did not really put the question in a nice way. Something about his eyes betrayed a different intent here.

"Old Mr. Chauncey, very old, but I'm still kicking around if that's what you're asking, not going to suddenly die from being high up." I hate when people act like I'm frail just because I'm hundreds of years old! I mean sometimes when I've recently stolen the life from someone I'm younger body wise than those that are asking.

"Good Lorentino, because if you die I don't get paid, and I want to get paid, I just put myself in a lot of trouble to bust you out of that tower."

"And I appreciate you and your men's sacrifice Mr. Chauncey, if I had access to my funds I'd pay you myself." He laughed and some of the other men nearby laughed.

"I don't think you could afford what we are being paid old man, but rest up, we'll be at Hanlon head quarters in a day, I want you looking bright eyed and bushy tailed for Lorentino, so she'll pay me the rest of my gods damned money." I did notice at this point I still had my shackles on, apparently I was being rescued but not rescue rescued, potentially about to be enslaved by Hanlon for the expensive favor. Which would of course be the most Lorentino thing ever to happen to me.

Awkward Flyer Miles

I've mentioned before how boring long term imprisonment is. It saps your will to live and makes everyday run into the previous day. If I didn't cling to life like a crazy person clings to crazy I would have found a way to kill myself years before my eventual release. But I'm a survivor, I was determined to get out of my jail cell at the top of a tower though I had no way of knowing how exactly I would accomplish that, only that I would someday! Such is the strength of my hope even sixty years into my sentence that had no end.

But back to the boring! See the issue I run into is that I'm so bored I start to imagine things. Its a bit like illusions you see when you are dying of thirst, your mind is dying so it starts to imagine things that could save it. Same thing here, you're so bored you're mind starts imagining more interesting things. Like I had several conversations with dead people that were very intellectually stimulating (well as much as those kind of conversations can be). I also learned all the nooks and crannies of my cell and I counted the lights of the city several times over (like I could tell how things were changing within the city based on light density alone, sadly I couldn't make out more than that). I say all that about the boredom illusions because when my rescue came I was to put it simply thinking I'd finally snapped entirely.

"Step back from the window." The voice was that of a bearded man hanging from a rope. It was night time and I couldn't make him out aside from the beard, but he was definately different looking, and not just because he was again hanging from a rope.

"As far as illusions go, you're definately different." I was amused my crazyness had reached this length, though it was surprising to me it had taken this long.

"I'm not an illusion, now step back from the window or you're going to get blown up and I won't get paid." The bearded man withdrew up his rope and I amused my illusion by stepping back from the window (well that and I secretly hoped I wasn't crazy and this was a rescue). I was rewarded by the window exploding outwards and the bearded man swinging down through the wreckage.

"Are you real?"

"As real as you are Mr. Lorentino, now put on this harness so we can get out of here." He handed me a contraption that looked like a belt with leg holes and buckles I was lost, "Come on you had to have seen this kind of thing before." He thought better on his assumption and then pitched in to help hook me up. I could see that the harness as he called it was similar to what he was using and was equally hooked up to a rope to whatever he was connected to. After he hooked me up to the harness, he tugged on the rope and I was flying. Well not so much flying as being dragged through the air. I could see above me was some kind of balloon with a carriage underneath it. On board there were more men, all dressed in the same black clothing the bearded man was. Once he got on board he helped un hook me from the contraption. I noticed everyone was kind of staring at me.

"Something I said?"

"Nah most people are just in awe when they see a living legend Mr. Lorentino, but if you excuse us we have to keep you a living legend and get out of here before they hit us with a flak cannon."

"A what cannon?" As if on que something louded exploded to our right and the point was made the strange airship started moving and I was free of Ronerawth once more. I tell you it was definately the most exciting escape from prison I've ever had!

Like Most Things Hope is the Worst

My cell where I would spend sixty years (not hyperbole though at the time I thought it had only been fifty) was laid stone and mortar. A throwback construction project in a tower so I got a nice view of the city as it evolved over time. I was all alone in it, I had a nice metal bed with a too small blanket that during the winter only gave me the illusion of being warm but not its comfort. No pillow because creature comforts are not allowed political prisoners apparently! I also had no contact with the outside world except for one guard who would provide my sludgey too cold hardly edible food. The guard wasn't much of a conversationalist, just dropping the food and leaving. I never got his name, or what he did for a living, but he was the only way I could successfully notice time advancing (my over use of necromancy has caused me not to age properly. Like my finger nails don't grow really and my hair either beard or facial the sameway, it was at least twenty years by my count before I even noticed aging at all in myself, which was nice as far as knowing I could survive, but obnoxious as far as trying to figure out how long I'd been up there).

I would come to find out later that I only had one guard was intentional, as no one knew I was actually imprisoned in the greater Ronerawth government. Not even the emperor if you could believe that! In a hilarious sequence of events the council that had doomed me to my imprisonment were executed to the last man, and since they didn't exactly write down everything they'd done, my order of imprisonment went from being a term to forever. Like at no point was I to actually be released, which seems entirely unfair for my crimes none of which in my opinion were punishable. That I even had a guard to feed me seemed more just the way government works, he'd been hired to do a job and the job was what he would do. I have to say if he had died suddenly for whatever reason I probably would have joined him after starving to death for years (because again necromancy).

The worst part of course about the imprisonment was hope. I kept hoping someone would save me, one of my friends, an ally, anyone. But no one came. Not Nidget or Andre, no Captin Therod with a gruff annoyance, or Valrym grudingly laying assistance, Mordere wasn't there to slice a throat with as much casual indifference as buttering toast, or even Hanlon with his weird appearence (to be fair Hanlon did eventually save me... oh crap spoilers!) Anyway all of this to say for the first couple decades I kept hoping my "friends" would come get me, and they never did. I would find out later of course they all thought I was dead (except for Hanlon who knew I wasn't because again he's creepy). Of course by the time I got out they were all dead, well aside from Valrym and creepily enough Hanlon.

So yeah, sixty years in a cell I'll skip what I did to amuse myself for decades in a small circular room, its amazing what you can do when you let your mind wander. And by amazing I mean its not at all.  Next entry my escape!