Thorn smiles. "I was a hunter of irregular type much like you in the world I came from before the OTC recruited me. It's good to be among my kind of people again."

"Ooh, what'd you hunt?" The other one asks, perking up. A woman with the same shade of brunette hair that every Eide seems to share. "What's your kill count? I've got seventeen and eight assists, and it's only my second year."

"We can give you a tour. This is our base and our home. I heard rumors you can be young again now?" The man asks.

"I hunted outlaws and magical beasts. Sometimes both in one. Killed a true dragon once, though it took three of my party of eight. I stopped tracking my kill count a long time ago but it would be three digits long. It's less fun when some of them are actual people, no matter how big of bastards they may have been."

She nods to Klaus. "We're selling lifespan at five thousand, two hundred and fifty kroner per year. It's a commodity for us. - by which I mean the Oifilei Trade Consortium, which I work for."

He fishes a fistful of slightly bloody bills from his coat pocket and starts counting.

"Oh, get Mama Ingrid to buy a bunch. She'll see that it helps those of us who need it. It's not like we don't have money, everyone's taxes pay us to go keep the known world troll-free."

The guy shrugs and puts the money back in his coat. "I agree," he says, "That it would be less fun if beasts and trolls were more sympathetic. As it is, there's no saving them and I personally doubt what's in there resembles who they used to be at all."

"I'm glad you have that at least. Your situation is otherwise... rather tenuous. You've worked it out but I'd much rather you had more troll-free continent. A goal I'm sure we can all agree on."

"A lot of people say we should just stick to the established fortified towns and not invite trouble, and can the Cleanser programs entirely. I disagree. We won't be safe as half a million stubbornly clinging onto tiny bits of soil forever. But it's not an easy question."

"My people have new weapons and better armor for your people too. Plus the possibility of a true vaccine. We're interested in helping to reclaim your world, because for real estate value alone..." She runs a hand through her hair. "It's a largely-unclaimed Earth. Good for about ten billion people or so if we can just get rid of the trolls. I would put the price of this world at upwards of a hundred Cernnous even in its current state. It's worth investing years of effort into, at the full extent of the OTC's capabilities. We want to get it cheaper and we also respect your existing claims, but... We badly want this world to go back to how it used to be."

"...I don't think everyone's going to like having more neighbors again. Trolls are one thing, but I heard about this thing called 'world war' in a history book."

"Wanna buy a live beast to experiment on? If you guys come up with a gas that kills them or something it'd be really neat. Someone could try to capture one - with an acceptably low risk of casualties if it's our best."

"Nonetheless, we're invested in reclaiming the Silent World."

"Live beasts might be worth the investment. Experiments like that seem likely to get us somewhere. Might be useful towards a cure."

"We can try to catch some! Be a thing to negotiate though."

The guy frowns. "People coming to trade with us is one thing. People moving in next door en masse is another entirely."

Thorn nods. "Not going to happen anytime soon, though. It's been scarcely a week since we came here; what I'm talking about could take years or decades."

"I don't like it. But the world contains many things I do not like. So it goes. Tour?"

"Tour!"

Marit follows along, adding color commentary to most things and sometimes gossiping with those they pass.

Well, they have the dining hall. It's very big and used for assemblies too. Big kitchens too. There's the clinic, and they can visit the outer room which is full of people telling war stories and healing from injuries. There's the houses, rows of near-identical ones in a sort of townhouse style. There's the docks. There's the outer wall. There's the armory- They have a variety of creative low-tech guns and melee weapons, though the same semi-automatic rifle the Oresund guards were carrying is the standard. There's a big stable, some less structured houses that contain non-Eide people, lots of farm fields, a clever irrigation system. There's a football field with two loud teams of eleven Eides playing against each other. There's a bunch of cats who almost seem to be following them around. Siege stores, with enough food to last six months. Radio building, inhabited by a bored and grouchy civilian who the Eides regard as some kind of technical wizard. A schoolhouse for the kids. And there are training grounds a bit of a hike outside the walls, if she's curious they can see them tomorrow. Everyone's very friendly and pretty blunt. They don't seem to be particularly well educated.

"Want to meet with Mama Ingrid? She basically keeps the whole village functional."

She takes some time to examine the contents of the armory and pronounces it "Excellent. I'm going to have to see about getting you some even shinier toys though." 

She'll talk to the radio operator later perhaps. 

"Yeah, I'd definitely like to see Mama Ingrid if she runs the show around here."

"Day to day, yeah it's Mama Ingrid. For big decisions there's about a dozen of us that weigh in. Okay, let's take you to Mama's house... Hey, think we'd be any good as mercenaries?"

"Probably! You're used to the weird and difficult. You could take up contracts to fight on the OTC's behalf in worlds that need that. Depends on how much risk you're up for, but..."

"We lose at least one a year to trolls on average. Risk is risk, if the pay is good enough..." Shrug. "Don't want to fight people though."

"Worst is Tyranids. Don't take a Tyranid contract unless you have an immortality lined up, is my advice. They're being a problem for the OTC, so..." 

She half-smiles. "Might be in your specialties once you learn more."

"I don't know what other people fighting is like, I just know the way we do it. How would we learn more?"

"Take contracts, get more experience fighting magical beasts. Hunt manticores for a year or so, I bet that'd be good training. Learn from mercenaries who've fought on more worlds than you. You're trained and disciplined, you'll do well, you just need to get familiar with the various other nasty ways the universe can kill you."

"Want to see about those storm carapace and laser weapons first. Might be they're too heavy and complicated to take on long runs. A lot of what we do is ranging way out into uninhabited lands, treading lightly."

They turn. A bigger house than the rest is visible.

She nods. "Your current kit seems very suitable. We'd want to sell you different gear from the regular army; maybe laser weapons because they're silent, but storm carapace is likely to cause problems with camouflage for you, so we'd sell you survival gear, cloaks that conceal you, lightweight camping gear, stuff like that. I'd have to check with my people to see what exactly we'd have to offer." 

"Silent weapons would be a pretty good deal if they're still killy enough."

They reach the house. Her guide knocks on the door, and Mama Ingrid lets them in and introduces herself. The front room of the house is like a cross between an operations room and a homey cabin. There's a fireplace and couch, but also a big map of Norway with pins in it on the wall, and a filing cabinet and desk. She looks to be in her fifties and has a prominent scar on her right arm.

"Miss Thorn, of the OTC. I hope you're enjoying your visit? I'm very very curious about you and yours, of course."

"I assure you they're plenty killy."

She comes in but doesn't sit. "Mama Ingrid. I am, it's been very edifying. I'm curious about you and yours as well. Trade a question for a question?"