Crime evolves. Weakness is exploited. Order must evolve with it.
The 1820s saw the formation of the Peelers in England to deal with the disruptions of the peace in industrial urbanisation. The 1920s and 30s witnessed the birth of the G-men in the wake of the Great Depression.
The 2020s saw the end of traditional venue based retail. Strip malls and then the big mega-malls closed their doors. Commerce moved online, and the likes of Amazon and FedEx became the outlet to goods of an increasingly isolated and sedentary population. The underclass and those seeking quick gain soon cashed in preying on the delivery mechanism. This gave rise in 2028 to a new breed of lawman – The Deliverymen.
The D-men were highly-trained ex-military and paramilitary operatives. They were equipped with state of the art surveillance systems and weaponry. They had one simple mission: that the goods flowed without impediment. By 2034, slow railway junctions were no longer littered with low value goods and the discarded packaging of looted goods, but with the rotting corpses and bleached bones of would be train robbers. The age of the D-men had come.
Jan and Oskar entered the chamber and found the room empty except for a large chest in the centre of the space. It had an eerie glow to it, but there was no indication that it was enchanted as Jan’s talisman did not glow in response to the chest’s sheen.
“Is this the one we are looking for?” Oskar asked.
“There is only one way to find out,” Jan replied.
“I hate this part,” Oskar said making a disapproving face.
The well maintained stone road had given way to a gravel way a league before the border post. Once the guard house was passed it became a rutted dirt road, and now it was little more than a trace of a path. They were definitely beyond the frontier now, and the last vestiges of law and order, at least the Kingdom’s law and order would disappear over the next hill. The journey was necessary however, the fate of the Laun people rested on the courier getting the message of alliance to the clans before they took matters into their own hands. Survival was wrapped in their link to the Kingdom, and it was imperative that they understood that.
The problem was that Czar Vlad understood all to well, and agents of the Empire were already on their way to intercept the courier. A game of cat and mouse was about to begin. Was whether Captain Wellon was up to the task of getting the message through. Only time would tell.
“The paint chip words and phrases you have to work with are sprig of mint, moon walk, waterfall, scarecrow, sea foam,saffron, and forget-me-not. . . use at least five of these words and phrases in your idyll.”
The damp fog refused to burn away, eating up their street until the suburb became still and their house an island. This was no tropical paradise, however, but a bleak craggy isle buffeted by waves. Fog or no, the island home had its own issues, and marital discord and strife made for an unpleasant existence. I say existence, as it was no life. Living always on a knife-edge, perpetually walking on proverbial eggshells, had taken its toll. Now with the creeping fog making escape from the island home difficult, it would only be a matter of time until the damp of the surrounding fog would be the least of their problems.