CASTLE EARTHSTONE. 5:30 PM EST. WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2025.Larry, Chris, and Jason waited for sunset in a cluster of trees, near a ditch to give them a covered retreat. Slaves and soldiers emerged from the main gate, followed by the technicians and the favored slaves, and then the lord and his “palace staff.”“If we’d known they were going to do this,” Chris said, “we could’ve spared all that effort counting them.”“At least they’re confirming our count,” Larry pointed out. They had spent much of the afternoon observing and counting, figuring out that there were quarters for about four hundred soldiers, though less than fifty seemed to be present; fifteen or so in the lord’s entourage; about twenty pump-and-windmill mechanics, overseers, and attractive women, in the hut Larry had dubbed the tech-and-trollop shack; and between eight and nine hundred emaciated, sickly slaves.The whole population seemed to be gathering in a semicircle between the main wall and the outer gateway.
