Valkyrie's Shadow

Legacy of the Plains: Act 1, Chapter 17

Legacy of the Plains: Act 1, Chapter 17

Chapter 17

“I-I didn’t know who he was, miss!” One of the men from the wagon nervously clutched a cap to his chest, “He looked and sounded the same – he even acted the same. That’s…that’s not one of those Demons that steals your face, is it?”

To her side, Nabe snorted. The man looked on in worried confusion as Ludmila struggled to keep her face straight.

“No,” Ludmila told him. “That was a Human using Illusion magic to disguise himself as one of your villagers.”

“He’s alright then?” The man asked, “The…the original one from the village, I mean.”

“There haven’t been any murders accompanying these arsons,” Ludmila said. “So he should be alright. We have his name from one of your fellows, so we’ll check on him once we’re done here. Before you go, can you tell me how he joined your group here? Is he one of the men usually helping with deliveries?”

“Uh, no,” the man replied. “Georg is uh…a Farmer? He grows herbs in plots around the village, at any rate. Good stuff. Anyway, he came up while we were still loading the wagon and asked if he could join us. Said he had something to do in town.”

“I see,” Ludmila nodded her head. “Thank you for your cooperation. I wish you a safe journey to Crosston.”

The man bobbed his head several times.

“Thank ye, miss. Thank ye. Er…it will be safe, won’t it?

“The Royal Army patrols the borders day and night,” Ludmila told him. “Though if Death Knights were patrolling the roads, it’d be even safer. The ones that you’d meet might even help push your wagon.”

Andrei shot her a look from the other side of the road. After several minutes of being inflicted with terrifying hallucinations, he had shaken off the effects of his attacker’s spell. The man Ludmila had replied to goggled at her words.

“I-I don’t know about that miss,” he said. “We’re happy doing it the way we’ve always done…”

The end of his sentence trailed off into a mumble, and he bobbed his head a few more times before going back to the wagon.

After questioning each of the men, Ludmila sent them on their way. On the side of the road, bound and gagged, lay the man who had attempted to flee. His belongings were arranged on the grass a short distance away. Andrei turned to address Ludmila and Nabe as they approached.

“If what this fellow says is true,” he motioned to the Elder Lich officer nearby, “this is our man.”

“Were you able to question him?”

“No, the Elder Lich says he’s protected from Charm Person somehow. We’ve taken off all of his stuff, but it’s still not sticking.”

“Most likely a protection spell of some sort,” the Elder Lich said. “Once he has been incarcerated, the judicial officers assigned to him can investigate at their leisure.”

“Then how do we know this is our culprit for certain?” Ludmila asked.

The Elder Lich turned and gestured towards the items on the grass.

“It is merely a conjecture, but it does seem likely. One of the items he possessed was a Ring of Coercion, which allows the user to cast Charm Person once per day. Most of his inventory appears to be made up of utility items and scrolls. Sleep, Mage Hand, Message, various personal protection and counterdivination wands…”

“An Illusionist…” Nabe muttered.

Ludmila and the Elder Lich turned their attention to the Adventurer.

“I concur,” the Elder Lich said. “The spells reportedly cast by the criminal in conjunction with the schools of magic represented by his magic items do indeed point to him being an Illusionist.”

“I see…” Ludmila crossed her arms, “Even if he is specialized in illusion magic, as an arcane caster he can still use wands and scrolls of other schools. What about the ring? Can anyone use it?”

“This particular ring requires a spellcaster to use,” the Elder Lich replied. “Items do exist that allow non-casters to use spells, but they appear to be more scarce according to our data.”

Scarce, but not nonexistent. Did that mean anyone could use magic to assist with committing crimes as long as they could afford them? With the new wealth generated by the Sorcerous Kingdom, anyone with a profession that secured a tenancy could afford magic items.

“Shall we move on, then?” Ludmila said, “What did E-Rantel say?”

“They will take custody of the man once you are done with him.”

“I think I have everything I need,” Ludmila told the Elder Lich. “I’m very interested in what the judiciary discovers.”

Less than a minute later, the portal of a Gate opened up by the road. Four Death Knights and an Elder Lich came out to pick up the man, who remained as limp as Ludmila had left him.

“Maybe I hit him one too many times,” she said as the Gate vanished. “Will he recover?”

“What did you hit him with?” Andrei asked, “He looked like he just sprinted all the way from the city.”

“I…used that Martial Art, first.”

“Which one?” Andrei furrowed his brow, then brightened, “Oh, the one that I was teaching you? Did you call out the name?”

“…yes.”

Andrei smiled triumphantly.

“I told you it would help!”

“It was mortifying. Miss Nabe laughed at me!”

The corner of Nabe’s mouth twitched.

“I did not.”

“You did! A Ranger’s hearing is very sharp, and you were right there.”

“Make sure you add that to your report,” Andrei told her. “It helped, right?”

“I’ll think about it,” Ludmila frowned. “Anyway, it slowed him down, but the venom on the arrowhead didn’t take effect. I had to run up and hit him a few times with an ability drain.”

“A-ability drain?”

“Something similar to what Elder Liches can deliver with touch attacks.”

“If it is ability damage from a negative energy drain,” the Elder Lich said, “it is permanent until the loss is recovered with restorative magic.”

After seeing the effect at work, Ludmila considered the applications of weapons with ability drain enchantments for her town militia. It seemed like a good tool for harmlessly subduing suspects, but the Elder Lich’s answer made it a drain on mana to reverse. She still didn’t have any priests in Warden’s Vale, and mana would be scarce when they finally started to arrive.

“We should move on to the village,” Ludmila said. “I’m sure the people will be looking for reassurances. We should also check to make sure the man that the Illusionist posed as is alright.”

They found the man whose appearance had been used sound asleep in his home. Too soundly, in fact. He wouldn’t rouse from being dumped out of bed, violently shaken or having cold water dumped onto him. It wasn’t until Nabe walked up and planted the toe of her boot into his ribs that he woke with a pained grunt.

“Even low-tier Sleep effects require damage to break,” she told them.

Ludmila took a minor healing potion from one of her bags and gingerly spilt it over the man, careful not to get any on herself. Fortunately, he was already wet so being doused with another liquid wasn’t very noticeable. Andrei helped the man seat himself on a wooden stool.

Despite his deep slumber a few moments before, he now appeared perfectly alert and more than a little bit concerned about waking to see three strangers in his home. He sniffed and wiped the droplets of water off of his face.

“You’re Georg Pine?” Andrei asked.

“That’s me,” he glanced at each of their faces. “Now who’re you?”

“Name’s Andrei – one of the Count’s men. We came by to check on you.”

“Check on me? Why?”

“We caught a man that’s probably related to the fire yesterday evening,” Andrei replied. “He was using some sort of magic to copy your appearance. The ladies here were worried that he might have done something to you.”

“T-they were?”

The man looked back towards Ludmila and Nabe. He straightened in his seat, slicked his wet hair back and made a futile attempt at fixing his soaked shirt.

“I’m glad you’re unharmed,” Ludmila said. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

“Uhm…aside from getting the best night’s rest I’ve ever had, nothing strange comes to mind. Wait – I think something got me in my side here, but it might’ve just been a dream. Can’t feel nothing there now."

His hand felt around the spot where Nabe had kicked him. The Adventurer did not show even a hint of remorse over her actions.

“Do you feel unwell in any other way?” Ludmila asked, “I believe some sort of sleep spell was cast on you, but…”

“Hm…nope,” Georg answered. “I feel right as rain."

“That’s great,” Andrei said. “Thank you for answering our questions, Mister Pine. Have a pleasant day.”

They left the house, stepping out onto an unpaved village lane. Ludmila’s steps slowed as she looked down at something she noticed before they went in. She pointed to the space under the windowsill.

“Andrei, do you see anything in front of the window here?”

Andrei stopped and turned, giving the ground a long, hard look.

“People going back and forth – nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Do you have the house of the charm victim?”

“Yeah. Next stop?”

“Please.”

They followed Andrei to a building closer to the village centre. He stopped to knock on the door, and Ludmila noted that there was another set of the same steps that stopped right in front of the window.

“What about below the window here?” Ludmila asked.

“A lot of foot traffic,” Andrei answered. “Nothing that really stands out to me.”

The door opened before she could share her findings, and they stood by as Andrei introduced himself and explained the situation. After taking a statement with Nabe’s assistance, they set off to examine the damage to the mill.

“Did you see anything back there?” Andrei asked.

“I did,” Ludmila replied. “There are tracks that are identical to those of the man we caught in front of each window.”

“I’m sure I would have noticed that.”

“I’m sure you would have as well,” Ludmila said. “But they were being concealed by magic.”

“That vermin was an Illusionist,” Nabe said. “He must have had a spell that hid anything that could be tracked.”

“It appears to be the case. He didn’t need to worry about being tracked at all since he had a spell that foiled conventional tracking. By the time the enchantment faded, the trail would have gone cold. Have you heard of anything like that?”

Nabe shook her head, and an annoyed air came over her.

Ludmila mulled over the significance of their findings. Their culprit did not have the telltale characteristics of an arcane caster. He was the seedy, dangerous sort that looked right at home in shadier locales. Ludmila hadn’t come across anything of the sort in her reading on magical institutions, but nothing stopped criminal elements from conducting magical research. All it would take was the same investment as any other individual who wished to develop new spells.

It was a source of problems that she had not considered before. Illusionists were rare amongst professional magic casters. This was because they occupied a tiny niche in the everyday lives of the people that held little in the way of practical value. Illusion school spells for combat were already known and wielded by more generalized magic casters, so new research into the field by regular mages was next to nonexistent.

If one considered the string of cases in Völkchenheim County, however, its strengths were made abundantly clear. It was a school of magic perfectly suited for subterfuge and organized crime. There was probably an entire realm of illusion magic that only the shadowy underground of civilized societies knew of, and that most magic casters shunned illusion magic made for extreme vulnerabilities.

She wondered if the criminal had come from Re-Estize. The magic-illiterate nation would be the perfect playground for the man and his ilk. If he did come from Re-Estize, the question would be why he had bothered to leave such an ideal environment.

“I guess anything goes with magic,” Andrei shook his head. “How do we even fight that?”

“The Sorcerous Kingdom has individuals who are capable of foiling this particular method,” Ludmila said. “I’m uncertain of their general availability, but if we ever encounter incidents that leave conventional trackers stumped, they would call one of those people in to investigate.”

“People like you, I suppose,” Andrei stroked his chin. “Any idea if they’ll provide whatever magic item or piece of equipment that’s letting you do that for local investigators? I don’t like the idea that we’d have to wait for a specialist every time something like this happens.”

“I have no idea,” Ludmila replied, “but it wouldn't hurt for you to ask. I plan on doing just that for my demesne.”

The odour of charred wood greeted them long before they arrived at the mill. It was unlike the ones they had visited previously. Its remains marked it as one from generations past, and the damage from the fire looked like it was just the last in a long history of wear and tear. A suspicion tugged at the corner of her mind as they surveyed the site of the tiny mill.

“Were all of the mills that were destroyed something like this one?”

“What do you mean?”

“This one looks like it’s been here for a very long time,” Ludmila said. “It’s also much smaller than the new mills that we visited.”

Andrei furrowed his brow as he considered her words.

“All but the third one was like this,” he said. “That one was newly built.”

“I see.”

Even in light of this fact, her suspicions persisted. This was because of one undeniable observation that she had made. When examined with her ability, the criminal was cleaner than any of the subjects she had brought in before Count Völkchenheim. The real thing should have been far worse.

A combat exercise...

It was the only answer that she could come up with, anyway. The Sorcerous Kingdom had employed the man to test their systems. Not only had they done this, but several old mills were demolished and replaced by ones designed to harness Undead labour. Ones nearly identical to the mills in each of her farming villages, powered by Undead servitors.

As Andrei had noted, the people had an aversion to the Undead for cultural and religious reasons. But as Farmers could become incensed if their neighbours were granted more land to manage and thus enjoy greater economic gains, so too would lumber villages see the gains in efficiency enjoyed by those who chose to employ Undead in their mills. By covertly replacing several key facilities through their ploy, the administration had created several locations where this could take place. Once the difference in economic gains was realized, they would become a force in favour of the new systems.

Ludmila wasn’t sure if it should be considered underhanded. The central administration had the authority to simply issue directives that forced the nobles to replace the old buildings. Doing so would in turn generate negative sentiment towards the new government and many would almost certainly dig their heels in to resist change. If a ‘criminal’ burnt their facilities down, then the blame would go to some faceless other. The losses incurred would be quickly recovered in the new facilities that employed Undead labour.

There were several additional objectives accomplished that she could discern, but it was likely that the central administration had done even more than that. As the principal investigator, Ludmila wondered how she should put together her report. Should she disclose the fact that she had figured out what was going on?

In the end, she decided that, as a participant in the exercise, she should report her work as any other investigator might. Others might be making a study of it in the future, after all.

With nothing more to do, they returned to Crosston. After explaining her findings and saying her farewells to Lord and Lady Völkchenheim, Andrei and Sanju, Ludmila teleported back to Warden’s Vale with Nabe. Where they appeared, however, was at the northern end of the valley, where the redirected brook once tumbled into the river.

A sense of comfort came with the sight of her highland home. She turned to speak to Nabe.

“We’re a bit far from the harbour,” Ludmila remarked.

“It’s the closest location familiar enough for teleportation,” Nabe replied. “The changes to this territory are drastic enough that I need to refamiliarize myself with it.”

“Would you like to come and take a look around?” Ludmila asked, “I think I’ve become accustomed to showing people the place.”

“I’ll be returning to the city right away,” Nabe replied.

“Is that so?” Ludmila’s hands idly straightened the creases in her dress, “Then I suppose our time together has come to an end. Thank you very much for your assistance, Miss Nabe. It has been a pleasure working with you.”

Rather than immediately teleporting away, the Adventurer remained to examine her for several seconds. Her eyes finally settled on Ludmila’s wrist.

“Woodlouse.”

“Yes?”

“You asked me how I felt about the Undead.”

Ludmila’s hands froze. Nabe’s dark eyes gleamed, her lips turning up in a cool smile at her reaction. Ludmila looked down, unable to hold the Adventurer’s gaze.

“In the Sorcerous Kingdom,” Nabe said, “service to His Majesty is honoured above all. There are heights that you will never be able to reach, but what you accomplish for the Sorcerer King will always supersede notions of race.”

Ludmila looked up again. Was this the reason why Darkness had slowly warmed up to the Sorcerer King? Lady Shalltear’s declaration in the city alley took on a meaning that she had never considered as one Human amongst many.

Though Nabe’s words were probably meant to be reassuring, her cold expression did not change. Ludmila scanned their surroundings before her focus returned to the bald, featureless head behind the visage of the ‘Beautiful Princess’.

“Miss Nabe,” she licked her lips, “I have a…personal question, if you don’t mind my asking.”

“What is it?”

“How…how do you do it? To exist alone amongst so many who are ignorant of your true identity? Who might turn their backs to you – or even turn against you – the moment they realize what you are? How do you manage? I can barely cope, and it’s been less than three weeks.”

Nabe’s cool smile faded. Her dark eyes held Ludmila’s own for several moments before she closed them and let out a small sigh.

“It is simple.”

Rather than warmth, her tone was one of pride.

“I am not alone,” Nabe told her. “I have many friends with whom I can place my trust.”