Valkyrie's Shadow

Empire in Chains: Act 6, Chapter 35

Empire in Chains: Act 6, Chapter 35

Chapter 35

“For all of their weakness, these lowlanders appear to live eventful lives.”

“My reports revolve around military operations, Commander Gunnar,” Ludmila replied. “Please don’t take them as examples of everyday life in the Empire.”

Granted, if the Frost Giants went storming around the ‘lowlands’, life would likely become even more eventful for the citizens of the Empire…or anywhere they went, for that matter.

High in the hall of Citadel Stenberg, Ludmila stood upon the dead Jarl’s dais as she participated in the debriefing for her two assignments in the Empire. With so much material piled up over the weeks, her presentation took several days as the attendees digested the information, asked questions and discussed the results. Even so, none missed a minute of it – probably because they had been doing nothing but training for nearly half a year and wanted a glimpse of what potentially lay ahead.

In attendance were Lord Cocytus and his vassals, who stood behind a table across from her on the platform. The Goblin Strategist from Carne Village was sitting behind his own table with a few of his Captains. Below them, on the rows of stone benches arranged to face the dais were Commander Gunnar, Sigurd, and an assortment of Frost Giants, Goblins, Death-series Servitors and Elder Liches…actually, Ludmila suspected that most of the Northern Army Group were present. It was a good thing that the citadel’s hall was built to accommodate a huge gathering of Frost Giants.

“While their discipline is to be lauded,” the Goblin Strategist waved his feather fan lightly, “that same ‘discipline’ displayed brings some troubling truths to light.”

“Is it truly so troublesome?” A green-shelled member of Lord Cocytus’ retinue asked, “That battles are kept free of those complications should be counted a benefit, should it not?”

“That would depend on the objective,” the Goblin Strategist replied. “If wars were conducted as a series of mass exterminations, then it would be as you say. But there are many ways to utilise a defeated enemy and what we see confirmed in Baroness Zahradnik’s reports makes that difficult.”

“If I may ask, is this some aspect of warfare that has been recently opened to exploration?”

Heads turned at Ludmila’s question. She did her best not to cringe at the idea that she was once again behind on some bit of essential knowledge.

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” the Goblin Strategist replied. “While it hasn’t been formally recognised yet, the evidence accrued so far appears to be conclusive. It is somewhat embarrassing to realise in hindsight, however. Based on how you conduct your battles, I assumed that it was something that you understood at some level…”

“If I understand what you’re referring to,” Ludmila said, “then it is in a way which I am unaware of. What is it?”

“The morale of an army – and I use the term ‘army’ loosely – under the bolstering effects of a Commander or an individual with Commander-like Abilities and Skills is extremely difficult to break without directly applying spells, Skills or Abilities to force the issue. I first noticed this at the Battle of Carne Village: though my forces were overwhelmingly superior, the regiment from Re-Estize did not falter. They tried to carry out their orders; tried to hold; tried to fight. The result was that they simply died, but they did not break. It was not until their officers called for a general retreat did they attempt to withdraw.”

Ludmila considered the Goblin Strategist’s words, thinking back to the recent wilderness battle. That the Goblin Army held fast even after taking an incredible beating meant that the enemy Commander was bolstering their morale and cohesion in some way. Furthermore, once the Demihumans were issued orders to attack her, they were relentless until the enemy Commander was eliminated. Similarly, General Ray’s battalion held despite their crippling losses.

“I agree that this is hardly a troublesome thing,” Sigurd said from his bench. “Should one of our Commanders desire the head of an enemy General, all they need do is send out their champions. We shall gladly retrieve it for you!”

As if to punctuate his words, the base of Sigurd’s Frostreaver struck the floor with a thump that echoed around the hall. The sharp hiss of Lord Cocytus’ breath joined the sound. Knowing the Grand Marshal’s character, he was in firm agreement with Sigurd’s sentiment.

“It is a concern on our end as well,” Ludmila noted. “Even unsophisticated opponents understand the importance of what they may equate with a ‘Lord’. We plan on raising an officer corps that will bring the benefits of Commanders to the ranks of the Royal Army. Fighting more advanced opponents aware of this same thing will see our officers being purposely targeted with attacks that they assume will break the cohesion of our forces. A Death Knight can challenge a champion on the ground, but it won’t stop something that flies or teleports. Similarly, there are spells, Skills and potentially Martial Arts that cannot be blocked.”

“That type of thinking is very much like you, shieldmaiden,” Commander Gunnar said, “but additional measures are not required, yes? It’s true that the portion of our forces a slain Commander is responsible for will lose everything that comes with having them, but our army will not fall apart just from that.”

“I agree,” Lord Cocytus’ brown brain-like insectoid vassal tilted its short body forward. “Between the projected strength of potential adversaries that we may encounter in the region, the equipment we’ve settled on for each grade of officer and the fact that resurrection magic is available, I believe that we have arrived at a cost-effective balance. If opportunity cost becomes a factor, we will rely on stronger Commanders for those instances.”

They were probably correct. The vast majority of her experience revolved around weak Commanders with mundane or at best weakly-enchanted equipment. This included herself at one point in the past – and she died – so she couldn’t deny that she might be overly cautious.

The debriefing continued, with Ludmila going over General Ray’s attack on the highland plateau. Many in the assembly nodded in approval as she outlined his response to the Demihumans’ attempted organisation and the battle that culminated from it.

“This General Ray is very different from the other imperial Commanders,” Commander Gunnar said. “Most of them seem to be just like you.”

“And General Ray is just like you, Commander Gunnar,” Ludmila smirked. “At least when it comes to his approach to warfare. I told him as much, too.”

“Then I suspect that your time with him has shown you the effectiveness of aggressive tactics from a ‘Human’ perspective,” the Frost Giant Commander said.

“Yes,” the Goblin Strategist said, “your approach to warfare has always been rather imbalanced. I understand that you are a ‘defender’, but the best defence still readily employs aggression when it can efficiently achieve one’s objectives.”

Between the ‘senior’ Commanders of the Royal Army – those with experience who also possessed Commander Job Class Levels – Ludmila had by far the worst track record in field exercises. A part of her suspected that this was because the others just loved picking apart whatever she could come up with, but the results were the results.

As Commander Gunnar had noted, Ludmila’s experiences with the Sixth Legion did have her see the widespread effects that an aggressive approach to warfare could produce. It was something that she sorely needed on both a professional and personal level. Her time with His Majesty in Katze Plains stirred aspects of her being that had lain dormant for all of her life, but tactical and strategic exercises with the Royal Army never seemed to help her develop them.

Skills, Abilities and Martial Arts appeared very much contingent on a culture that could draw out various aspects of a person to levels where they could be developed and harnessed. Because she had been raised in a martial culture that had long focused on the protection of one’s territory and subjects, related ‘powers’ were easy to grasp.

She could be a Noble Captain who inspired and assured her subjects and subordinates, but she couldn’t match her friends when it came to statecraft, economics and diplomacy. The martial training passed down by her parents allowed Ludmila to quickly grow a respectable repertoire of Martial Arts and Skills that revolved around their highly mobile and defensive schools of combat, but she still only had one high-power attack in the form of Blossoming Iris. Her Skills and Abilities as a Captain were similarly tied to how she was raised and what she believed.

For all of her militant demeanour, martial feats and the wariness that fellow members of the House of Lords displayed for her, she was simply not lent to aggression. Therefore, it seemed that her personal ‘art’ or ‘style’ of being aggressive was something that would take her a long time to master as she would need to develop it out of the raw elements of her being with no guidance.

After relating what had happened during her assignments, Ludmila went on to her analysis of the Imperial Army. This included its structure, doctrines, logistics, administration and culture as well as how each element fit into its role as the institution that provided security for the Baharuth Empire and served as a pillar of the Imperial power. As she went through her materials, she found that the reactions of her audience to each topic were varied.

“Lady Zahradnik,” an Elder Lich in the front row raised a hand. “For those not created to serve, protocols for behaviour are understandably required. We, however, do not require such things as ‘culture’. Our purpose is clear from the moment of our creation.”

“On the contrary,” Ludmila replied, “I believe that it is not only of utmost importance for His Majesty’s created servitors to have a culture of their own but they must also contribute to the greater culture of the Sorcerous Kingdom. As time goes on, our influence expands and more created beings enter service, it will become ever more crucial. It isn’t as if you don’t already have a rudimentary culture already: the values and purpose that you share as created beings create a bond between you beyond the fact that you were all summoned to serve.”

“Then is that not enough?”

“It’s not,” she shook her head. “The culture that you possess is rudimentary, meaning that your protocols for behaviour are similarly rudimentary. As our world grows, so too will it become increasingly complex. Created beings are born with knowledge, intelligence and purpose, but it does not mean that you will be able to serve in an optimal capacity in every situation you are exposed to. If it was simply a matter of destroying our enemies, our current course of development will serve its purpose, but the majority of our work does not involve conflict.

“This work is a battle where the odds are severely stacked against you. The Undead are seen as the enemy of all life and the world’s cultures have evolved to incorporate what is a reality when it comes to most naturally-manifested Undead. A distinction is rarely made for created beings and we face the challenges that come with this perception. The culture that you develop should contain the protocols that are required to analyse and adapt to your assignments. You are already doing this, in part, but there are many areas that can be improved to help His Majesty achieve the realm that he desires.”

“And what of the culture of the Royal Army as a whole? So far our focus has been on establishing training standards and basic operational doctrines.”

Ludmila turned her attention to Commander Gunnar.

“I believe that the multiracial and multicultural nature of the Sorcerous Kingdom will become one of its greatest advantages,” she said. “This belief extends to the Royal Army. The myriad of perspectives and values in our nation will equip us well for future challenges, be they conquest or collaboration. Not only should this strength be present on the field, but extend to all aspects of a soldier’s life: from training to logistics and even to affairs at home.”

“Like what you’ve been doing in the south, then.”

“I’ve only just begun, but yes. Admittedly, I started in part out of the desire to preserve my people’s culture, but I quickly realised that it was conducive to raising something that the Royal Army was in short supply of. Nestled within the traditions of my people are the methods of raising frontier folk capable of functioning in the conditions that we were continually exposed to. Now, those traditions will become the foundation of a Ranger corps that will serve the Sorcerous Kingdom in what capacity that they can.”

Seeing how the Empire’s nobility went from Re-Estize’s systems of martial obligation to that of a professional military further reinforced Ludmila’s notions of how her own culture could develop into something that could serve the Sorcerous Kingdom. While it wouldn’t play a glamorous role in the Royal Army, it was still an integral one that would see widespread use.

Furthermore, others might follow her lead: developing their own traditions into something that would fill important niches in not only the Royal Army but in all of the institutions of the state.

As the end of the last day of their debriefing drew near, Ludmila looked down at the table piled with her reports and notes. She turned her gaze to Lord Cocytus. Aside from requesting clarification or requesting that she expand on portions of her presentation, he had mostly refrained from the discussion between the Royal Army’s members.

“Grand Marshal,” she said. “In light of all that has been presented here, how do you feel about the ‘answers’ that the Baharuth Empire has provided to the Royal Court?”

“Answers, hm…”

Another hiss filled the hall as Lord Cocytus expelled a blast of supercooled air. He seemed to ponder Ludmila’s question, a claw coming up under his mandibles in a curiously Human-like gesture of deep thought.

“The answers,” he said, “need analysis. By the Royal Court. Of many matters, I cannot say. But…in the Imperial Army, there is honour. Those that defend; those that strive; spirit is present. Desire. Yet untempered. And something…disturbing.”

“Disturbing, my lord?”

“Mm. To put in words, difficult. Their warrior spirit…detached.”

“I agree with Lord Cocytus,” Sigurd rumbled, fingers combing through his frosty beard. “Your account of the Empire contains many things unsettling to my ears. It is too much like what we Frost Giants have experienced in the past two centuries. Decadence and decay appear to rise hand in hand with prosperity and development. In times of peace, the eye shifts from the truths of the world because one can afford to live a lie. Is being lulled into falling for these delusions an inevitability? Is every nation bound to grow into a pitiful, bloated thing? How can this be prevented in our own people?”

“I believe you’ve answered it yourself,” Ludmila replied. “People are led astray when they ignore the truths of the world. They can only do so when they can afford it or when those with the authority, influence and resources manipulate perceptions and cause others to align with their warped views. Accomplishing the same thing in the Sorcerous Kingdom should be far more difficult. Those confident in their strength, intellect or talent need not look far to find points of comparison that challenge the position in which they’ve placed themselves. We have an immortal administration in possession of demonstrable truths that will never allow the delusions embraced in the Empire to take root.”

Ludmila leaned forward, eyes crossing over the members of the Northern Army Group and the officers of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Royal Army.

“In my report, you have seen the chains that bind a nation; how they are forged, how they are maintained and how they can rust and break through neglect or misuse. Our task is to help create and maintain a society that thrives under His Majesty’s light, so I am of the mind that it is an excellent case study for us.

“Unmatched strength, sterile procedure and raw knowledge may stabilise a nation, facilitate prosperity and help it develop to a certain extent, but the Sorcerous Kingdom must forge chains of its own. Chains of law and culture that will bind its people together and foster a spirit that both embraces and transcends the concepts of race and tribe. Some of these chains are already in the process of being forged but others exist that impede us from our task. We must learn how to break those chains for we will continue to encounter them as the Sorcerous Kingdom develops and its sphere of influence expands. It is only when we can do all this will we truly begin to create the vibrant and harmonious nation that His Majesty desires.”