Valkyrie's Shadow

The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 4, Chapter 8

The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 4, Chapter 8

Chapter 8

11th Day, Upper Wind Month, 1 CE, 2300 Hours

“Oh, bless you, Thurgakhr, bless you! You’re a miracle worker!”

Snarls filled the air as three Urmah cubs tore into the carcass of a modestly-sized dog. The animal was a fortunate find: it had been standing out in the village where they had lured a group of Blood Meat Hulks. The lumbering Undead monstrosities had unexpectedly emerged from the shore, too close for the refugees they were escorting to escape. Thurgakr and her warriors did not expect to survive, but it seemed that fortune was with them for once.

Several of the tribespeople that they were escorting considered it a reward from the gods for Thurgakhr’s valour, but she and her warriors had only taken as much as they needed before offering the rest to the hungry refugees. Her tail lay limply on the ground as she watched the children eat. There were five, at one point. Two were still suckling and their mothers had been slain. Far from the stage where they could eat meat, they would have starved so they were killed and burned in hopes that they wouldn’t join the ranks of the Undead.

She imagined that the scene had repeated itself a hundred times across the fleeing wave of Urmah refugees. It would continue repeating itself unless the Undead advance was somehow stopped.

I can fight as many Undead as required, but if I have to watch children get butchered again…

Even when they weren’t doing it directly, the Undead brought suffering. She imagined that the lands that they fled through would be spawning more of them soon enough with all of the death and anguish that was wrought by the advancing horde. The lands of urmah Kisher were doomed, and the long journey that started deep in the lands of their home country had been for nought.

A twig snapped behind her. She jumped and flipped around to find one of her warriors who had gone out on patrol.

“Anything?” She asked.

“Nothing,” the warrior, Karagh, answered. “The Bone Vultures have thinned out and there’s no sign of those Blood Meat Hulks.”

Thurgakhr settled on her haunches, releasing a relieved breath. The civilians had been on the verge of collapse, but it now seemed that they had time to rest. They had found one of the strange forests that the Humans managed for wood, hiding themselves in the thickest patch of trees. She wasn’t sure how long they would be able to stay, but she was grateful for any reprieve.

“How long do you think it will take before the Undead catch up?”

“It’s hard to say,” Karagh replied. “It isn’t as if we left people behind to see how far away the Undead were. Most of them might’ve lost our trail with all the Human settlements we’ve put between us. Those Blood Meat Hulks came from the sea, though…”

“The Human fishing villages will attract them ashore eventually,” she scratched her ear in thought. “That town ahead…what do you think the chances are of the Undead reaching it before we do?”

There was a higher chance of finding food near towns. One or two Human travellers would sustain them until they crossed the river south of Blighthold. If it was necessary, they could grab a meal off of the walls as they went by.

“High,” Karagh said. “If the Undead in the water keep advancing until a Human settlement attracts them to the shore, they’ll be far ahead of us by the time we finish resting…assuming the ones behind us don’t catch up.”

If the Undead ended up chasing Humans around, it would likely buy them plenty of time to flee. They might even have time to hunt.

“I wonder if they have any traps in store…” Thurgakhr muttered.

“Traps?”

“Like the battle last night,” Thurgakhr said. “They had that powerful force come in from behind once everyone was in the valley. What if they try something like that again?”

“We’re in an open plain,” Karagh replied, “so that would be difficult. The Undead coming out of the water could surprise us like earlier today, so you could say that they did attempt to flank us there. They don’t seem to care whether they are attacking us or the Humans, though…that’s the way the Undead are, yes?”

It did make sense if one took a step back to examine the bigger picture. The Undead had come, but, as far as she knew, they were indiscriminate in their hatred of the living. Even those with intelligence, such as Elder Liches, made little meaningful distinctions between Humans, Goblins or even fish. The flame of life had to be snuffed out; the land despoiled.

While blame for drawing the Undead horde might be placed squarely at the feet of the clans attacking the Draconic Kingdom’s capital, now that the Undead were here, they didn’t have the luxury to point claws at one another. Banding together and destroying the unholy menace was the priority. Goro understood this, but urmah Kisher rejected his advice in its pride. Now, most of urmah Kisher likely fought against the living.

“We should rest,” Thurgakhr said. “No matter how we worry about it, these people are too tired to move. Let’s draw lots for the watch.”

She ended up with the last watch and retired between the gnarled roots of an old oak tree. A wide yawn filled her mouth and she stretched before resting her head and closing her eyes. Someone shook her shoulder. A sharp whisper pierced the air.

“Thurgakhr!”

“Wuh-huh?”

“The Undead are coming!”

Thurgakhr forced herself upright, trying to shake her lethargy away.

“Where…where are they?”

“They’re entering the edge of the woods.”

Dammit…

They had Darkvision, but it didn’t let them see vast distances in the darkness. Even with the moonlight, they could make out vague movements at best. Suffused as the air was with the reek of the Undead horde, it was impossible to discern individual groups by scent. It felt that the Undead turned themselves into a threat simply by shuffling forward.

“How many are there?”

“About two dozen,” Karagh replied. “Nothing strong.”

She knelt to shake one of the elders awake, pondering the information.

“Even if we win,” Karagh said, “we shouldn’t fight. Their controller will instantly note their loss.”

“I know! I was just wondering if it was possible to hide in the branches or something…”

“That’s crazy! We might evade this bunch but we’ll end up in the middle of the horde.”

Would that be the case? There might be tens of thousands of Undead, but, if they were stretched out across the countryside, they would be sparse. The two dozen approaching their position might be all that there were.

“Let’s move,” she said. “Once morning comes, we’ll have a better idea of what’s around us.”

Thurgakhr picked up one of the cubs and they set off into the night. Though it felt like she had just laid down to rest, the skies were already beginning to lighten. She looked to the mountains silhouetted in the east.

“Did you come up with some idea?” Karagh asked.

“Hm?”

“It sounded like you wanted to do something once you could see what was around us.”

“I was just thinking,” Thurgakr replied. “If we could get behind them, we could just head east to the mountains. At this rate, they’ll be chasing us for weeks.”

“We aren’t just escorting these Urmah,” Karagh told her, “we were sent to warn everyone else. Besides, these people are just as likely to be killed if they head east into the mountains.”

That wasn’t true for nar Ki’ra, but it was for urmah Kisher. Migrants that returned to their old territories were treated as invaders. They effectively were, as their intrusion also meant they would be consuming resources that the locals depended on.

“I would think we’ve passed beyond the point where that sort of response is warranted,” Thurgakr said. “The Undead threaten all.”

“They do,” Karagh admitted, “but I can imagine the fury of those clans when they see the Undead coming in on our tails. Never mind urmah Kisher, they’d kill us for that.”

She flicked her ears in vexation. As Karagh said, they were just as likely to be blamed for bringing the Undead into a tribe’s territory as thanked for their warning. The competitive nature of the clans made cooperation and sometimes even communication difficult. Tribe and clan came before everything else, and all were aggressively protective of their territory.

It was a feat in itself for them to come together as a country at all. That it was a country of many different races of Beastman made it all the more wondrous. A long history of blood drenched the mountain jungles and it required the work of countless visionaries to forge the laws and traditions that made stability as a nation possible.

Those laws and traditions only worked to an extent, however. They would certainly not hold back a clan enraged by a grievous incident. As a result, conflict between clans and even alliances of clans were not uncommon.

And here we thought we’d be able to get away from all of that for once.

Nar Ki’ra thought they would be fighting Humans. Even fighting the Undead was fine…at least until it turned out to be an Undead horde of legendary proportions.

The field of stars was slowly washed away by the dawn and Thurgakr started to get a better sense of what was going on. Groups of Undead – anywhere from a few dozen to over a hundred – were moving around in the distance. It was astonishing that they hadn’t blindly run into any during their renewed flight.

“So it turns out we’re already in the middle of the Undead horde,” she grumbled.

“We can’t hunt like this!” Karagh complained, “From which dark god did this sick scenario spring forth?”

“Maybe we’ll find a farm animal fleeing from the Undead as well?” Thurgakr offered, “We were about two days from the river; now it’s probably three since we have to get around all these new obstacles…”

“Doesn’t this mean that the Undead will cross the river before we do?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then go,” Karagh told her. “You’re the strongest amongst us. If it’s just you, you’ll be able to cross the river by the end of the day. You don’t even have to worry about us: strangely enough, it’s safer now that we have some sense of the behaviour of these Undead. All we have to do is avoid these settlements that they’re being attracted to.”

Thurgakr slowed to a stop, removing some of the pouches on her belt.

“Take these,” she said. “Emergency rations, plus a few water flasks.”

“What about you?” Karagh asked.

“I still have trade coins and another flask. Some potions, too. There should be plenty of opportunities to resupply once I get across the river.”

Karagh nodded, distributing her pouches between the other warriors.

“Hopefully the next Clanlord won’t be as foolish as il-Enhorshr,” he said. “I guess we’ll next see you back at home…may the Lord of Storms and Lady of the Waters favour your journey.”

“So, did you get anything interesting out of that Magician Guild?”

“Eh…I’m not sure if it’s interesting, exactly, but they do have some stuff I’ve never seen before here.”

After tucking in her apprentices for the night – she wasn’t sure if they were already too old for that, but she did it anyway – Ludmila disembarked from Ruin’s Wake to see how things were going in the city. She found Captain Iškur and Miss Marchand packing away their makeshift Merchant stand. Skeleton Warriors went back and forth, organising cargo on the pier. A sign had been placed facing the wharf. Upon the sign was a warning written in several different languages:

Access restricted, violators will be reanimated.

Skulls were drawn on either side of the warning. Ludmila wondered if anyone would dare to cross.

“What sort of ‘stuff’?” She asked.

“I guess it’s what you’d expect to find in a port city, my lady,” Captain Iškur answered. “Divination spells for maritime navigation, a whole lot of spells for inventory management and cargo handling, spells for operating underwater, some maintenance magic…honestly, I’m not sure if they’re worth learning. Since they’re mostly spells that aren’t really dependent on the power of the caster, they’re the sort of that you’d buy wands for. A staff would be even better.”

“But someone has to learn the spell to craft magic items with those effects, yes?”

“That’s what civilian artisans are for,” the Elder Lich said. “Casters on the field need to devote their time and resources to learning spells that are better cast by whatever they are and rely on items for the other stuff. For instance, if you’re a War Wizard aiming to be a Fire Elementalist, it’s better to learn Scorching Ray as a Second-tier spell than it is to learn Darkness. Your Scorching Ray spell will be far better than anything a wand can spit out and, since Darkness doesn’t rely on caster power or the resistance of those affected, you can just purchase a Darkness item.”

“What if you can’t find someone that sells an item that casts a spell that you decided was unnecessary to learn?”

“Well, that’s a problem in itself,” Captain Iškur replied. “Presumably, different places will have differing demands for magic based on whatever the locals need, so a little shopping adventure would be called for. Unfortunately, magic seems to be exclusive rather than inclusive around these parts, so that idea might fall flat. On top of that, magic for civilian applications is plentiful, but everything else is just plain inaccessible. Ruin’s Wake’s hoppin’ mad over how impossible it is to find Druid stuff nearly everywhere we go.”

She had no idea how a Ghost Ship could use a scroll, wand or any other magic item.

“Where did you manage to find ‘Druid stuff’?”

“The Lizardman village at the Great Lake in Tob and the Lizardman Village in Warden’s Vale. Makes you think that Lizardmen have a monopoly on druidic magic.”

Ludmila wondered if the Ghost Ship could find any use for Druid spells wielded by Lizardmen. Ruin’s Wake was something like a ‘negative energy Druid’, or at least a Druid that tended to negative energy ecologies, while the Lizardman Druids supported living communities.

“That’s probably something we’ll want to promote in the Sorcerous Kingdom,” Ludmila said. “The vast majority of ‘Priests’ and ‘Shamans’ in our Demihuman communities are actually Druids. If we want druidic magic to grow and flourish, some sort of institution should be established for it. Arcane casters have the Magician Guild and its affiliates. Priests and Clerics have the Temples, but we don’t have any official druidic circles.”

It was strange that they didn’t, considering Lord Mare’s influence in the Sorcerous Kingdom. Then again, the Dark Elf Druid was mostly aloof from anything beyond his duties. According to Lady Aura, he was always either working, experimenting on things that might help with his work, or lazing around in bed.

Miss Marchand rose from her table, closing her ledgers and gathering them into her arms. She came over to greet Ludmila with a bow.

“Good evening, Lady Zahradnik. Apologies for not coming to see you immediately.”

“There is no need to apologise, Miss Marchand.”

“Sorry–erm, just force of habit, I guess. As a Merchant, it is almost always better to play it safe. Especially when dealing with powerful people.”

“Has anyone been giving you any trouble?” Ludmila asked.

“Not in Blighthold, no,” Miss Marchand answered. “There is something to be said for having everything that they need while also having the power to wipe out their entire city. What I mentioned is more of a thing in the Sorcerous Kingdom where His Majesty’s might enforces order.”

Ludmila frowned at her reply.

“What do you mean by that?”

“It is just the way things are, my lady. Much has changed in the Sorcerous Kingdom, but people do not change so quickly, if at all. They have just adapted to the new reality. Merchants like keeping business smooth, so that means being flexible with all of the different parties we have to deal with.”

“I understand that Ruin’s Wake plied a route through tribal territories…are you referring to your interactions with the Demihumans there?”

Miss Marchand’s face broke out into a smile.

“Oh no,” she laughed, “I like that route. It is not exactly the most lucrative, but, hmm…I guess I like how cute they are.”

“Cute?”

“Yes, cute. Everyone out there is new to commerce and they barely have anything, so I have a whole lot of fun bartering and teaching them things. It is very gratifying watching all of those little trade outposts grow over time.”

It may have been because Merchants tended to adapt quickly, but Miss Marchand appeared to have embraced the idea that the Sorcerer King wished to extend his benevolence over all of his subjects and not just Humans. Hopefully, it was a sign of things to come for the rest of the population.

“In that case,” Ludmila said, “what have you been having trouble with?”

“It is not ‘trouble’, per se…it has more to do with cultural expectations. Certain people expect others to behave a certain way, and that behaviour is dependent on where each party in the interaction stands in the hierarchy. Law and order are maintained to an unprecedented degree in the Sorcerous Kingdom, and hierarchy is order. Everything from before just jumps over and fits itself into how things are now.”

“If something illegal is going on…”

“Nothing of the sort, my lady,” Miss Marchand replied. “If anything, it is the opposite of that. People observe customs and traditions that are proven to work within the boundaries of the law.”

Even if she said so, it sounded as if something was happening that shouldn’t be. Ruin’s Wake’s purser seemed to sense her confusion and gestured towards the refugees lining the wharf.

“Take those fellows, for instance,” she said. “Most of them will do ‘extra’ to get what they need. That can be as simple as being polite or ingratiating themselves to others. They might leverage charisma and sex appeal, or band together to give themselves more clout. Some of them might have special skills or come from vocations that make them more useful in this situation. They might have illiquid assets or a position that is useless for now, but will be seen as valuable in the future and used to influence others in the present. None of what I described is explicitly illegal and can be used to further one’s ends.”

“But they do not employ it in their dealings with you.”

“They certainly try, my lady. You were even there when that first guy tried to buy up all of our cargo by throwing money at us. Then he tried to appeal to my pride and sensibilities as a Merchant. And then he tried to ‘procure’ goods via proxy through his labourers.”

“That last one is definitely illegal,” Ludmila noted.

“Theft is illegal, yes. But we don’t know how justice is carried out in the Draconic Kingdom. He could have claimed it was a misunderstanding or the labourer could have pretended to be stupid. The Merchant might have just asserted that it was an independent act of theft on the part of the labourer and that is entirely plausible. In the end, someone thought that it was worth the risk and who gets the blame is out of our hands. Unlike back home, we cannot rely on mind control to collect statements.”

An attempt at theft wouldn’t have worked at all in the Sorcerous Kingdom, but the rest of it seemed ‘normal’ enough that Ludmila had never considered them in the way that Miss Marchand had framed things.

“What would you say is the most problematic aspect of this in the Sorcerous Kingdom?” Ludmila asked.

“Probably when the underlying hierarchies behind everything get abused and pecking orders are established,” Miss Marchand answered. “For every person that actively tries to ensure that what they are doing is just, there are three others who think that what they are doing is normal and another who unapologetically exploits their advantage. The last does not even have to be malevolent: both good and bad people try to further their own ends like that.”

“But we have regulatory bodies that watch for this sort of thing, yes? The Merchant Guild, for example.”

“They can only regulate things that happen. This probably applies to any institution. No one can enforce things that are implied. Trying to is an exercise in futility. A small Merchant will conduct business with a more powerful party not just for the sole purpose of a single transaction, but because they are trying to cultivate a relationship with that party. That relationship implies various things: future business, a source of information, a degree of protection and potentially tapping into that party’s circle of contacts…the list goes on. It is impossible to say whether any of that is fair until their efforts bear fruit.

“If it happens, the Merchant would usually be lauded for being shrewd, having foresight or a good sense for business. But it also tends to have the effect of making the party that they are dealing with ‘bigger’. That, in turn, draws more business to them and they continue to grow until they reach some limit or start meeting resistance. For a Noble, it usually stops at the amount of wealth and influence that their land can bring them. For Merchants, it is however far they can expand their commercial reach. For a country…well, look at what we are doing right now: we are trying to get ‘bigger’ – economically and politically.”

“So,” Ludmila said, “in the end, these hierarchies and how they are employed must be judged on a case-by-case basis.”

“Maybe,” Miss Marchand shrugged. “This is just my perspective as a Merchant. Figuring out whether things are good or bad for a country is usually the job of rulers…and that does not help us here. We just have to figure out how to play by the Draconic Kingdom’s rules.”

Never mind the Draconic Kingdom’s rules, Ludmila found many of the cultural nuances in the Sorcerous Kingdom indecipherable. Her father probably had the right idea – it was better to remain reserved and stick to what she was good at. At least her friends were around to translate her grunting.

Ludmila parted ways with Captain Iškur and Miss Marchand, walking north up the wharf to enter the nearest tower. The battlements had been cleared and sentries once again manned their positions, sporting a hodgepodge of unfortunate-looking equipment. With supplies restricted by the Beastmen, what they had amounted to sharpened sticks of varying lengths, rocks to toss down at Beastmen scaling the walls and tattered armour that would have been marked for salvage in any other situation.

As for the sentries themselves, Nedim Balik had organised the city into ‘gangs’ of sorts. Adult men who didn’t serve crucial roles in supporting the city’s operations were rotated onto the walls to ‘serve their time’. In short, they were conscripts. While the informal way in which they had been ordered led to several questions, conscription for the purposes of defence against the Beastman was indeed legal in the Draconic Kingdom. It was another case in which the people were trying to hold things together when nearly everything had fallen apart, so Ludmila didn’t feel that she had any right to criticise their methods.

After checking to see that her security measures for the city were being observed, she took off from the southern wall to see what effect the approaching ‘Undead horde’ was having on the countryside. Across the Seylan Estuary, the Beastmen had scattered from Ruin’s Wake’s assault. Ludmila’s general staff had sent roughly half of their Bone Vultures to observe their movements, but most of the Beastmen had collected themselves after the initial panic and appeared to be digesting what was going on.

Ludmila took the opportunity to order the recovery of the ferry connecting the coastal highway and had it brought into Blighthold’s harbour. She wasn’t sure if the Beastmen would return to raid the city for food again, but denying them an easy crossing was a given.

After a cursory inspection of the abandoned Beastman positions across the river, she flew northwest to see how her ‘Undead horde’ was doing. Her first destination was the town up the highway from Blighthold, where she found Saiko and several Elder Liches overseeing its ‘downfall’. Ludmila furrowed her brow at the sight of the town’s sentries, who had gathered on the northern wall to fearfully watch the approaching mass of assorted Undead.

“Saiko,” she asked, “did you contact the citizens below?”

“Attempts were made, Captain,” the Elder Lich replied, “but we achieved no success.”

“We?”

Saiko turned his skull to regard several of the other Elder Liches nearby.

“There was a debate over who could deliver the most reassuring Message,” Saiko said. “Several asserted that my wording was ineffective.”

“What did you say?” Ludmila asked.

“You are being ‘conquered’. Please do not resist.”

“I see…”

She understood what Saiko was trying to say, but she doubted that the citizens did.

“How did they reply?”

“The Message spell expired before the individual could render a response.”

“I suppose the ghost of Gartenbarg grips the people here, as well.”

“That legend makes little sense,” Saiko said. “The destruction of the country should have been thwarted by basic authentication protocols.”

That was what she also believed, but it didn’t matter to the rest of the world. A nonsensical legend about a country being destroyed by three Message spells had essentially turned the use of the spell to convey information into a taboo nearly everywhere. The Empire had special communication officers who employed the spell for military applications, but the Sorcerous Kingdom was the only place she knew of where it was in common use.

“This one believes that ‘rescued’ should have been used instead of ‘conquered’,” one of the Elder Liches floating nearby said.

“Liberated,” another offered.

“The efficiency of concise communication is to be lauded,” another Elder Lich said, “but Humans require elaboration.”

“Indeed,” said another, “informing them of the helpful and friendly nature of our forces would have set their minds at ease.”

“A Lip Bug should have been procured for these tasks. Studies show that Humans feel less threatened and are more receptive to ‘female’ voices. This effect appears to extend to other races, as some servitors have observed of Baroness Gagnier in her interactions around the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

“None of you obtained any tangible results when you made your attempts,” Saiko said. “As for the use of a Lip Bug, the Lip Bug would need to be the caster of the Message spell.”

Ludmila tried to imagine how the residents of the town might have felt upon being bombarded by dubious-sounding voices popping up in their heads, trying to ‘reassure’ them of the friendly nature of the Undead horde and advising them to not resist. Her imagination failed her upon trying to envision an Elder Lich attempting to imitate Florine’s dulcet tones.

“I’ll speak to them in person once the Beastmen have advanced further along,” she said. “How have our amended procedures worked out so far?”

“Enemy movements have been streamlined as a result,” Saiko told her. “While their progress has been notably slowed, it has also become far easier to manage them.”

“How about the Human populations we’ve been imposing on?”

“Most were already hiding in their homes. A few settlements appeared more oblivious than others, but that was a simple matter to remedy. Both our general staff and command staff at home conclude that it should be an effective practice for the remainder of the campaign.”

“That’s good to hear,” Ludmila said. “Now, all that’s left is to free up the Draconic Kingdom’s forces in Highfort. After that, we should be clear to deliver officials from the capital to the liberated lands.”

Her gaze went inland, where hundreds of villages cowered from the passage of both the Beastmen and the Undead. Though the threat of being wiped out by the Beastmen was now no more, a long, hard road to recovery still lay ahead. From commoner to Noble, every citizen of the Draconic Kingdom had their work cut out for them.