This whole town is in serious need of repair, I can't expect the inn to be any better... Thomas thought as he looked at the entrance to The Drooping Dragon Inn. The paint was peeling off the walls, the wooden planks were rotting, and the doorway leading in looked like it was going to fall off its hinges at any moment. Thomas lightly grabbed the door and opened it before walking in, ignoring every instinct in his body that screamed otherwise. When he adjusted to the light, the detail stunned him. Lavish, hand-embroidered purple curtains hung over the windows. The walls were all painted a deep red, and masterfully made pictures were hanging around the room. Looking down, he noticed that even the wood was fancy. It had been stained, and the dark mahogany wood seemed to scream royalty. Wow, talk about change in scene. He thought as he noticed smoke rising from a small fire pit in the center of the room. Small wisps of steam rising from the hole heading for a small chimney chute in the ceiling. 

Being careful not to bump into any of the dainty looking chairs around cooking pot, Thomas approached the pot and lifted his visor. The smell of simmering meat danced around his nose, making his mouth water. Wandering closer to the fire, he noticed a large crank on the side of a small device that looked like a gondola. As he looked down into the brickwork below, he saw a large chunk of pig was laying in a massive bowl. There was a pile of red-hot coals beneath the pot keeping the liquid bubbling, and that's when Thomas noticed there were vegetables floating in the pot. Large chunks of potatoes and carrots were floating around near the top of the brown liquid. The door opened, and Thomas looked over to see Barry. "It smells great right?" Barry spoke up quickly making his way towards Thomas. "We had a pig slip, and break her neck this morning rolling down the local hill. I figured we should honor her memory with something delicious, so I bought this portion of the big girl." 

"You also planned on killing your wife with this roast weren't you?" Thomas remarked, looking back over to the bubbling cauldron with slightly less appeal.

Barry started forward towards the large mahogany bar table with a dark chuckle. "Hey, the death of your wife is something memorable." As he got to the back of the bar table, he pulled out a large leather-bound book and a quill. "Okay friend, if you give me your name I can log you into the best room in the house!"

"It's uh, Thomas, but you don't have to do that. Just a simple room is fine with me." Thomas stated as he looked over to the man. Barry's head was the only visible part of him behind the massive wall of wood. "I am rather hungry though, when will dinner be ready, and how much for a bowl?"

A quill scratching on paper echoed throughout the room as Barry wrote in silence. "Give me just a moment, and I'll get a bowl ready for you. Would you like some bread to go with that? I baked it myself! We even have real butter to spread over it!"

"Uh, sure, but how much does it cost...?" Thomas replied looking back down to the fire as his stomach began to growl. Honestly, I don't even care how expensive it is. This smells amazing!

Soon the rattling of dishes clinked behind him. "It's no problem at all friend, dinner's on me! After all, you saved my life remember?" He made his way over to Thomas. In one hand was a large plate with half a loaf of bread on it and a large pat of butter beside it. In his other hand was a bowl with a large knife and a metal spork inside it. "So uh, do you always hide in that big coat of armor, or do you molt once in a while?" He asked handing the bread to Thomas before he reached for the lever near the cooking pot. "It must get toasty in there when the summer seasons come around." He continued while forcing the crank around to raise the pot above the fire to a point where he could reach it. 

"I mean, I can take it off, but I don't usually," Thomas replied as he ripped the bread in half and dumping the creamy butter over it. "It has a nice cooling generator in the back that is fed by the electricity I generate when I walk. It's also got a standard-issue power core, so when it's on I can be stationary and the battery will maintain it. Most of the time, my suit is self-sufficient!" Barry put a thick stick into the gear to stop it from going back down and began cutting into the roast. Thomas smiled when he saw the large portion of pork that Barry skewered with the knife before putting it in the bowl. Using the spork, he made sure to get a bunch of vegetables and a healthy dose of the broth.

"That sounds mighty fascinating, how does a power core keep itself charged while using its battery though?" He asked, making sure to be careful as he handed the bowl to Thomas. "I can't say I understand how that works!" He continued before pulling the stick and reversing the cranking so that the pot could go back down.

"There are gears in my suit that spin with the muscle movements in my legs. And it uses the electricity from that to keep it powered on. I have to be careful though. If I overcharge it, the device can start powering other options, and that's when it starts to drain quicker. So I try and walk when I can." Thomas explained as he sat down on one of the chairs and put the plate down on another chair then nodded his head in thanks before he quickly lifted his visor to eat. Tearing a piece of the bread, he quickly dipped it into the broth. He opened his mouth and brought the steamy bread to his lips, but paused before looking hesitantly over to Barry. "You didn't actually poison the food, did you?"

"Of course not silly!" Barry replied with a laugh. "Like I'd waste a whole pot roast on that bitch. No, I was going to load her portion up with a few herbs and spices that when ingested together are highly toxic." He looked over to Thomas and noticed that he was hesitantly looking at the steamy bread. "Oh don't be a baby!" He chided as he wandered over and took the spork from Thomas's hand and dipped it into the bowl, spiking a chunk of the tender meat. "I'll even eat it first if it makes you feel better." He blew on it softly, then sensually put the meat into his mouth, sucking the fork as he pulled it away. Chewing it slowly, his lips curled into a disgusted growl. "It needs much more salt." He exclaimed before turning around quickly making his way to the pot. Leaning over the big roast pot, he tipped the small bowl of salt dumping a majority of it into the pot, then used the stick from before to stir it into the mixture. "That will make it much better. Do you want some salt?" He asked, turning to Thomas.

"I'm good, thank you though," Thomas replied before starting on the bread. He took his first bite, and his taste buds seemed to explode. Sweet and salty at the same time. The buttery texture in the bread mixed with the broth from the soup made his stomach rumble again but louder this time. Within seconds he began dipping the bread in the broth and repeated the method, shoving the food in his mouth.

Barry watched as Thomas quickly dug into his meal. "Glad to see you like it!" He chuckled before sitting down beside him on the floor. "So uh, I know you're on super-secret mission stuff, but can I ask where you're from?"

"I'm from the lowlands, over on Brindain" Thomas explained, spearing a chunk of the meat and stuffing it into his mouth, speaking while he chewed. "Over on the cliff sides.

"Oh really?" Barry replied with a surprised smile. "I have friends over that way, do you happen to know Brighton Maroko?" Barry asked, picking off a small clump of blood off his cheek then flicking it behind him.

"The son of the mayor?" Thomas asked as he stopped eating and looked down at him. He had picked another small chunk of blood off his cheek he smirked. "That's the one, he was one of my first boyfriends back when they used to vacation around these parts!" Barry stated, continuing to pick small chunks of blood off of himself.

"You're kidding me!" Thomas stated as he put his spork down. "I went on a few dates with him! He tried to force his way into my pants on the second date ending our relationship after I gave him a black eye." Barry's eyes widened in shock.

"He tried on the second date? He basically forced himself on me our first date!" Barry winced as he picked a piece of blood from his hair, yanking a few hairs in the process. "Does that mean you dumped him then?"

"Yeah," Thomas replied before lifting the bowl to his lips and drinking the rest of the contents with loud slurping noises. "Oh man, that was delicious. I wish all my meals were as good as that!" He exclaimed after releasing a satisfied sigh. 

"If you keep talking like that, I might try to make that possible!" Barry replied as he looked up to Thomas with a sensual smile.

Thomas began to blush and quickly shut his visor. "So, uh. Where is it I'll be sleeping at? I should really try and get in contact with H.Q." He explained, standing up quickly and heading for the large counter. Stacking the bowl on top of his plate he spoke up as his spork clanked inside the bowl. "Also, where do I wash this?"

"Your room is down the hall, across the door from mine. It has a big golden star painted on it. I guess back in the days when people did nothing but watch T.V. all day, the big shots had their own room with stars painted on them, just for dressing in!" He stood up and headed for the counter as well. "I'll take care of those dishes. I assume you'll want some privacy while you try and call out to your H.Q." He paused for a moment as the two looked at each other. "We're in bonersvill-I mean bonesterville if you need to give your location. We're kinda the only town around here though. We're not famous or anything, but we get by since nobody else is able to set up a town." He began blushing furiously and reached for the dishes. Once he got a hold of them, he started for the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes, I'm sure the other guest can manage to get his own dinner."

"Th-Thanks again!" Thomas called out as his heart began to softly pound in his chest. What a strange man, He thought with a smile as he started for the back rooms. Numbers were painted on each door except for the last two at the end of the hallway. The one on the left had a large painted star on it. Pushing the door open, he saw the room was lavishly built. The bed was covered in fancy sheets, and the bed was long enough for at least four people to sleep comfortably on it. Looking around, Thomas noticed there were all kinds of paintings hanging on the wall. Strange looking people in even stranger poses were hung around the room for his display. A small fireplace was in the corner with a large pile of wood beside it. Now we're talking! He smirked, heading for the fireplace. Tossing a few logs into the hearth, he twisted the tip of his glove. The pinky finger burst into blue flame making Thomas smile. Pushing his finger into the heart of the woodpile, he held it close to one of the logs letting the flame do its job. A few moments later the orange light of fire illuminated the center of the logs. Pulling his finger out of the wood, he twisted the finger plating again making the flame die out.

"H-Hello?" A voice in his neural implant spoke out. "Thomas, are you there?" The voice asked before coughing violently.

"Who are you, and how did you get this frequency!" Thomas replied, standing up and unslinging his bag and gently bringing off his shoulders. 

"Have you forgotten my honeyed voice already Thomas? It's Albert, your squad leader, or at least what's left of him..." Thomas froze as he listened to the raspy voice. "I may not sound like a hot-shot anymore, but I'm still alive, mostly. Did you acquire the information that the spies were hiding?"

"Sir?" Thomas replied, questioning the voice. "Is it really you? How did you survive the raid from the Cantorian? I heard him kill Brass..." He closed his eyes, trying to keep his emotions from taking root. Forcing his eyes open, he slowly started to dust the backpack off before setting it down on the bed. 

"I didn't, not really anyway. I am currently hanging from a pole about ten feet off the ground." Albert coughed again, this time he spat, and a large amount of liquid went with it. "I'm not going to make it much longer. Have you made contact with H.Q. yet?"

"No sir," Thomas replied, trying to ignore the vivid picture of his captain hanging from a poll. "I was just about to ca-"

"Don't!" Albert cried out painfully, "H.Q. has joined the mutiny!"

"What do you mean?" Thomas asked, lifting the first strap of his bag, revealing a large pack of ammo, and a few rations. "Have you gone insane?"

"No damn it, listen to me!" Albert screamed through the implant, making Thomas cringe as the voice grated in his head. "Listen very carefully Thomas, I don't have long, but you need to know this! The Flara have infiltrated our military. I did some off the books research before we took off for this mission." He coughed again spitting out another mouthful of the liquid that was building up. "You know as well as I do that the Flara have ties to every major company on Brindain. What you don't know is they have been diverting billions of gold to the nation of Barthol through shell companies!"

"Sir slow down, are you telling me that Flara has been funding this war?" Thomas asked, looking around the room, quickly unholstering his pistol as he went for the curtains to his room.

"Yes..." Albert replied weakly, "The Flara created the Cantorians in one of their black sites, and funded the entire project through large shell companies that are contracted in the military! Whatever you do-" He began coughing again, but more violently this time. When the coughing fit subsided, his voice was considerably weaker. 

"Whatever you do... Don't trust anybody...!" He gurgled, and let out a sickening cough as the sound of his body sliding through something cut him off and his sobs softly came through the feed. When he managed to speak again, his voice was weak and filled with pain. "I order you not bring the information you may, or may not have acquired, and to hide until a mutual friend of ours gives you your next orders..." He paused and let out a weak laugh as the sounds of heavy steps crunched nearby. "I wondered if you would come back for me. Don't worry, I didn't go anywhere." A deep craggly voice echoed through the interface sending shivers down Thomas's spine as his com began to ring in and out of random static sounds. "But at least I know you will be going straight to hell with me!"

A large explosion rang through Thomas's implant, making his head hurt as his ears began to ring. "Sir?" He asked, speaking into the com in an anxious tone. "Captain?" Thomas tried again, receiving no reply, he closed his eyes, and let out a broken sigh before sitting down on the bed next to his pack. Damn it all. He thought to himself. Now what am I going to do? He thought as he lay down roughly into the soft bed. A soft thunk drew his attention from his chest plate. The book! He quickly pressed the button on his chest revealing the compartment. Pulling out the journal, he looked over the ancient work. Maybe I can find out why my whole team was murdered, and I was ordered into hiding. He thought to himself as he carefully opened the book to where he had been before the shield went down and quickly began to read. 

---------------------------------------

Hello friends! I know this book needs some real work, and I plan on doing all the work it needs! :) I hope you have a fantastic day. If you want to make my day fantastic, don't forget to vote and leave a few comments for me! Also, don't forget to drink more water!

-Asted!