AN: Sargon is not the ugly pale shrivelled-up furless thing we actually see in the game. He's actually rather handsome in this chapter. At least as "handsome" as a rat can be.
"What is this place?" he wondered. Asking someone was out of question, simply due to lack of anyone to ask. Sargon knew that he was dreaming - lucid dreams were a part of meditation training, and so was the practice of recognizing when he was dreaming or not. But this place… The dreams usually took form that the dreamer was familiar with. But never in his wildest imaginations and worst catastrophes had he ever seen anything like… this.
The field ahead was huge. And then there was a river. And there was a ruin across the river. And many other details. Not that he could concentrate on any. Because if what he surmised was true, he was looking upon the greatest battlefield ever. Stretching beyond the horizons, miles and miles of mud churned into semi-liquid gunk, crossed with makeshift enfilades and ramparts, hastily dug into dirt, littered with debris and… bodies.
"Incredible. What could have caused this devastation?" he mused as he knelt by a hole in the ground. A fireball spell? Maybe. But even he, one of the greatest mages Armello had seen in ages, would be hard-pressed to hurl one to create such a hole. And there were many of them. An army of mages? A nation of mages? Some kind of magic beyond his understanding, terrifying and tremendous both in scale and power?
"...Welcome to Verdant Knoll." He spun around nimbly, preparing to defend himself… Or maybe just stare incredulously at the speaker. He never saw her before. A she-wolf. A white she-wolf. A blazing white she-wolf, not that she haven't tried to cover THAT up with some kind of… clothes? Uniform? Drab, green and brown and liberally splattered with mud. Some kind of… spear? Or maybe a strange magic staff?
"Enjoying the view? This is future, Sargon. In case you're wondering, there's over two million dead below your feet. All in the last month. The river over there? It runs blood."
Rat mage snarled, his forearm swinging wildly as he tried to push the horror away. "THIS is our future? The war that ended everyone?" he asked, dreading the answer, "What kind of magic could have caused this!? What mage is so insane as to desire that desolation? And don't tell me it was me. It was not. It WAS NOT!"
"You? Don't flatter yourself. By this day, magic is forgotten. All that you see is caused by nothing more and nothing less than steel, gunpowder and gasoline. And this is not the end. Just… A little break."
As he was about to rebuke the apparition, an ominous whistle pierced his ears. Something… is falling. And then the earth flew, blown in a great clumps skyward, the cloud of dust cored red. And not just one. Hundreds. Thousands. Falling out of the sky and ripping earth relentlessly.
"Artillery barrage. Come, time to run through barbed wire. It will be fun." He didn't even had the time to respond when one of the… projectiles fell into the ground next to him and tossed him into the air like a rag doll.
Sargon sat up on the bed abruptly, hand clutching his ribs as he panted heavily. "...Just a dream. Just… a dream," he muttered, trying in vain to reassure himself. The dream. Could it be… He slipped off the linens and shuffled towards the bookshelf, claw running along the spines until he found the tome he wanted - "Upon dreams".
"It was not just a dream. It was a god damned prophecy," he whispered, too shocked to keep his words silent, as the book obligingly clarified, "She-wolf… She is the key to this… this end of the world. I must find her. I must… I must do whatever it takes to make sure this cataclysm does not become reality."
As he reached the end of this thought, a tapping was heard at his chamber door. Instinctively, he grabbed his magic staff. In the Rat Clan, there were very few anyone could trust. Sargon had known entire families that had turned on each other for wealth or power. He opened the peephole on the door and peered out.
"Who's there?" he asked suspiciously.
"It's me, Sargon. I must speak with you, will you let me in?" the stranger on the other side replied in a familiar voice.
"If it is you, then tell me by what code I know you," the mage replied.
"The dinner bell is sounded by a silver spoon," the other replied in a hushed tone.
Sargon quickly opened the door and allowed his guest in, then promptly slammed the door and relocked it. As he did, the guest pulled back his hood.
"Mercurio, you should know how dangerous it is for you to come see me," the mage lectured.
"Perhaps, but I need your council, my friend. It is exactly as you predicted, Telvis betrayed me," the baron sighed.
"I warned you, even our closest friends may not be so loyal. You have many enemies, but I suppose even your childhood friend's death will not stop you," the mage sighed.
"No, I must keep on. But Telvis was a great asset to me and I've felt his loss in my operations. Directing my agents myself has been a trying ordeal and I haven't had the time to plan my next move," the baron answered.
"I'm surprised you came to me," Sargon sighed.
"You have contacts besides myself. A mage as powerful and insightful as you is someone that a good many in the Rat Clan come to. You must know someone I can trust to be friends with," Mercurio concluded.
"Actually, I do. But, being friends with them may come at a price. What are you willing to pay?" the mage asked.
"To achieve my dream of a united Rat Clan, I will pay any price, save for life of a loyal friend," the baron answered.
Sargon sighed. He really didn't want to rush with this, but if what he just saw was true, then he was already out of time and needed to buy some by any means possible. "Mercurio. My friend. What I am going to tell you now will change much. Initially, I did not plan on this until much later, if at all, but.. Needs must. Between the situation with Telvis and the disturbing news I've received, I'm afraid our options are drastically narrowed. I have cultivated contacts with the Night Sisters, and I believe that the time is right to introduce you to them. Their services are not cheap, but at this time, you stand to gain tenfold more if you employ their services."
"The Night Sisters?!" Mercurio exclaimed, taken aback. After a brief moment to calm himself he sighed and continued, "If it is within your confidence that we meet, I will abide by your judgement on the matter. But what disturbing news have you received that is so urgent?"
"I am not confident yet. My sources are nebulous to put it mildly. But if what I've learned is right?... Mercurio. We might be heading into the war unlike any war we fought before. The war that will engulf the whole world and plunge it into madness," Sargon admitted heavily, "The worst about all of this is that I have nothing I could show as positive evidence. Sure, I have my hunches and snippets of information, but… Let's just say that if I were to call for drastic measures based on such meager evidence, even you would doubt my sanity. The rest, well… They would call me feebleminded, and they would be right to do so. I certainly would've done that myself, if it were someone else who came to me bearing such ill omens."
"For now, we move carefully then. If this catastrophic war is to happen we must prevent it but we must know more and have evidence before making rash actions. The thought of being introduced to the Night Mother is still a shock but I trust you, in the matter of this news and in the matter of the allies you believe are best for my goals," the baron replied with a smile, placing a comforting paw on his friend's shoulder.
Sargon laughed bitterly, as he glanced towards the window. "Allies, heh. We know darn well that there are no allies in this, Mercurio. Not amongst our kin, at least. No, we rats have grown complacent and treacherous, too willing to play our little games of dominance and subterfuge among ourselves. The Night Sisters are not allies, make no mistake about that. They're mercenaries. They will stand by you, so long as your gold is good, and you may wring more loyalty out of them if you promise them more legitimacy as you gain the influence in our clan… but that's it," he proffered, "I fear that our only option of survival is to unite the clan of Rats under one leader. You. And, what's equally important - we must turn our gaze to other clans and interfere. They must become as disjointed and anarchist as we currently are, so that their power wanes while yours grows. If we are to stand strong, then you must become unassailable. Ideally, you should be also the only noble whom king trusts and values above all others. You must become a duke, by any means available, or all is lost for us."
"Perhaps there is a way to trade my own loyalty for the Night Mother's? I would be willing to offer such a deal. What I am not willing to do is involve the other clans in this. I would like to avoid causing collateral damage to the other clans as much as possible. The Wolves and Rabbits are already not fond of us and our relationship with the Bears is tenuously indifferent," the baron replied.
"Indeed. I had not wanted to resort to such underhanded methods before, but… It seems to me that the best option we have is to sow dissent between Wolf Clan tribes. They are the strongest clan, both politically and martially, and it is not out of question that the up and coming leader of the clan has designs on the throne of Armello itself. Bradley holds fast, for now, but Lions are not quite the force they used to be. And those reports from the county of dogs… Their army is quickly shaping into something new. New and effective. Most tribes don't innovate in warfare much - indeed, some are like razorbacks in their views… But dogs eschew such ideals and instead seek efficiency for their forces. We need them marginalized and shunted to the side, lest they prove themselves to be the nucleus of armored fist that will propel a wolf on the throne." - replied Sargon thoughtfully - "My nebulous sources I've mentioned before implicate specifically Wolves as the ones who will plunge us into the war. Besides, decreasing their stature in court will aid you - being the favorite of king will decrease the number of attempts on your life from our own kin, if nothing else. Not to mention that if you become the patron of Night Sisters, they might be reluctant to take contracts on you."
"Hmm perhaps… But tell me, if we must damage the Wolf Clan, is there a way to damage them only to the extent that they may recover? Whether we like it or not, Armello needs the Wolf Clan. They ARE Armello's military after all. It is Wolf Clan warriors that defend our borders when aggressors such as the Aquarians come knocking. And I believe we should minimize our focus on the Rabbits and Bears as much as possible. The Rabbits will be needed if the Wolves are to recover from our efforts," Mercurio replied thoughtfully. At this point he paused for a moment and gathered a few thoughts before continuing with a light chuckle, "I have heard rumors of Lord Thane, but none that proposed he was after the throne for himself. Most rumors I have heard is that he is currently courting the Rabbit Clan's countess, Lady Amber."
Sargon sighed. Rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes. And no. What I'm hoping for is greater disunity among the tribes comprising the clan without jeopardising their loyalty to the king and kingdom. Understand me right, Mercurio - undercutting the Wolf Clan as a force is both necessary and unacceptable. We can not afford them to make an attempt on the throne, and we can not allow them to fall apart. The only solution that comes to mind is to create inner tensions so that they would answer the call of Bradley, if the war comes, but in the same time look on each other with suspicion, unwilling to back their fellow tribes if they attempt anything… destabilizing. I wish there was some way to dissolve the idea of clans and instead have each tribe be directly subordinated to king, but that is a pipe dream. The conclave of every tribe representatives would be massive, and laws would be appropriately sluggish. And the only alternative is to return back to the days of absolute despotism, where king's word was the law and sacrosanct… Neither is a pleasant alternative. No, as much as I loathe this, inciting headbutting within wolves and maybe rabbits is the only safe way to contain this until you become the primary force in the court."
"Then their cardinal law, the Uniting Howl, will pose a problem. They are more loyal to themselves, to a harmony between their tribes, than the king. How do we get a clan that is forged in hardship by its unity to fight itself but still remain tied together if hard times come?" Mercurio sighed, "And Lord Thane… I have met him only once but I cannot bring myself to detest him. I believe that he may become a valuable friend to me, he seems to support the idea of a united Armello, in the same way I believe in a united Rat Clan. Sargon, there must be another way. We have found alternate routes before, are you absolutely certain that this is the correct route? I have done terrible things before, but none has made me feel this… uncertain..."
"No, there… no. wait. Perhaps, there is," Sargon changed the tone slightly, "How do you feel about the old switcheroo? First, we plant the evidence that Thane had betrayed king. Then, we give things some time to come to heat, but before there is any execution, we, ahem, discover the subterfuge and reveal that Thane was framed? This will create a modicum of goodwill between you and him if he believes that you went that extra mile to ensure his innocence, and in the same time we can plant the doubt in his tribes in his head, if we can leave the tracks that vaguely lead to razorbacks or dogs."
"The Dogs, I see as a greater problem. They are currently all but divided against themselves. With two leaders struggling to attain leadership within their tribe. Countess del Mar and Duke Durnail. The Duke and his followers are fiercely loyal but the Countess may be exactly what we need. The question then becomes how to fan her disloyalty to her Clan into a full-blown Clan-wide conflict?" the baron hummed thoughtfully.
"Simple. We poison the king against the dogs. Bradley is given to moods, it would not be too hard to persuade him that dogs are making an attempt at secession. Also, I have not told you that officially, but… Durnail does not have long to live. It's not obvious to untrained eye, but… He has a sickness within him, and it will claim him before the first snows, mark my words," suggested Sargon, "Vandeia Zarina del Mar is prideful, she would take any perceived slight against the dogs as an intentional one and react accordingly. Between her fiery temper and Bradley's suspiciousness, it is quite likely that Bradley will pass all manner of stifling little laws upon the dogs just to remind her who is king… and she will chafe under such a heavy yoke."
"The Duke and his people must have someone who will still speak against her. I have a hard time believing that a man as formidable as he does not have a plan for his eventual fall. He is after all, a self-made man. And men who climb the ranks through their blood, sweat, and tears are nothing to scoff at," Mercurio suggested.
"He can not exclude del Mar from the line of succession. After all, it was her father who is the rightful Duke. Durnail had been given the title only because at the moment, del Mar was not of age. But her becoming a countess is set in stone, and nothing can change that," explained Sargon, "Besides, it's not like the duke has any issue of his own, so..."
Sargon grabbed a few belongings, including a ring which he slipped onto a finger, then without a word motioned for Mercurio to follow. Scarspire, the Rat Capital, was raining again. It was nearly always raining in Stormbasin, the Rat territory. Still Sargon led Mercurio to an old tavern nearby. They approached the bar and sat in stools.
"I'll have some brazenberry ale mixed with a bit of hot lemon juice," Sargon stated, "My friend will have the same." Taverner heaved a little sigh as he turned around, kicking the keg lightly. It wobbled, but sloshed, showing that there was some ale inside. Barkeep sighed again, as he bent over, grunting, to fill the mugs.
"You really should place that keg on the counter. Brazenberr's getting popular again, I hear," Mercurio quipped idly, as he wrapped his hands around the mug and sipped it gingerly. Lemon gave the whole mixture an unexpected sharp note, sourness mixing well with the tart taste of brazenberry, "Hah, I have to remember this drink."
Neither of them took specific notice or bartender pushing a discrete switch next to the keg while he was down there. Sargon already knew that there was some kind of mechanism to alert the inner sanctum. Soon, a welcoming party would arrive. The question was merely whom.
He glanced towards the doors that slid open quietly. And nudged Mercurio with an elbow, quirking his brow in the direction of the door.
The baron's brows rose in response. "...Damn," he proffered with a feeling, "Is THAT on sale?" Mercurio likely meant that to be a discreet remark, but..
"Well, that depends, big boy. Do you think you can afford me?" she murred, passing by him, her tailtip sliding along Mercurio's ear enticingly.
The baron growled as he stood up abruptly, "...Oh gods damn it, yes."
Sargon chuckled lightly, as he got comfortable on the stool, "Well, go on in, then. Our business can wait until you get the lust out of your system."
The wench, however, tugged on Sargon's ear saucily, "Now, now, good sir. Who would take care of my sister in the meanwhile? Come, come."
Exchanging bemused glances, they stood up and followed the enticingly wiggling figure through the door, followed in turn by envious eyes and good natured catcalling.
"Right, follow me," she stated, her tone shifting from flirtatious to businesslike.
Mercurio's face fell at such an abrupt shift. "Well, damn. Now I wish I was a little slower," he muttered with a shameless grin.
"Time and place for everything, Grinning Blade. I wouldn't expect too much, though, if I were you," Sargon proffered from other side, "As enticing as Zosha is, better men have tried and failed to conquer that fortress."
Mercurio growled playfully. "Let the better men be better, and let me be the rat, Sargon."
"Laugh if you will Grinning Blade, but we take our business seriously. If you are not going to be serious then you waste our time and we have no patience for those who waste our time," she replied coldly.
"It seems I have offended you. Please accept my apologies," the baron stated in a more serious tone.
She huffed as she marched to the front and began to lead them on, through a hidden passage. Mercurio couldn't help but stare at her rump and the way her tail swished as she walked. If nothing else, he had to admire how well-built and easy to look at the heiress to the Night Sisters guild was. Still, being who she was and who he was, he needed to remain vigilant. Many other barons of the clan had fallen victim to the Night Sisters based on much less. She escorted them to a large chamber with a long ovular table. This chamber was cleaner than the pub they were in before and brightly lit with torches on the walls, decorated with fine tapestries. A luxurious chamber told of the guild's wealth but it's calm atmosphere belied the danger that loomed within. In a cozy armchair between two lit lampposts sat an elderly rat woman, who beckoned Zosha to her side. For her role here, Zosha walked and stood to the side of the woman.
"Gentlemen, as one of you already knows, this is the Night Mother. She is no longer capable of speaking above a mutter so I act as her voice in council," Zosha stated matter-of-factly.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, madam. I am Mercurio the Grinning Blade," he introduced.
"She says she knows of you already but is pleased to have the opportunity to meet you so formally," Zosha interpreted.
"I will skip the pleasantries, as your protege has informed me you do not like wasting time. My objective is to unify the whole of the Rat Clan. To that end, I must become the Duke of the Rat Clan. With your loyal support, I would reward your guild quite handsomely and remember your service my entire time as Duke. Or, we may remain as business associates if you would rather. In the long run, would it not benefit your guild more to have a high-ranking official as a benefactor? My gold or my loyalty, both are offered to you. Or you may have both if that pleases you," Mercurio explained.
"She says she will accept your loyalty as long as Sargon will vouch for your character. She also reminds you that from here on, we will be watching and if your claims of loyalty are false you will be made an example of. However, we are still what we are and when you ask for our services, you must ask with your wallet," the young heiress replied.
"Mercurio is my most trusted friend. I have known him for many years. There is none within all of Armello that I trust or believe in more. His claims are true, he values loyalty as I do. If you have made the decision to believe in him based on what I say, then I beg of you to believe in him," Sargon replied.
"You are most gracious, m'lady. You have my solemn word, every contract I ask you of shall be paid in full the amount you ask," the baron agreed.
A few more of the Night Sisters came out of where they were hiding carrying a scroll and a quill and laid them on the table before Mercurio.
"She says that a contract like this must be in writing and must be signed. However, this is of utmost importance. To sign with ink would be an insult. You must sign in your blood," Zosha stated, extending to him one of her daggers.
This was a test of trust, if he trusted the Night Sisters as he claimed he was willing to, he would accept the dagger and draw his blood to use as ink. The Night Mother and her guild watched intently as he took the dagger and drew the blood from his left hand to sign the contract. He signed the contract, ignoring the possibility of the dagger being poisoned.
"The Den Mother assigns Zosha the Whirlwind as your personal liaison to us. All that you need from us will go through her, but be mindful that she is how our eyes and ears will be on you," Zosha explained. Once she finished she did a double-take out of sheer shock, "Wha- wait! Night Mother, please reconsider!" she pleaded.
Once more in a tone no one could hear, except the Whirlwind herself.
"As-as you command, Mother. Forgive my insolence, you know best," she sighed in defeat.
They left the Night Mother's chamber and Zosha sighed.
"I think it is best that Sargon and I leave you to collect some belongings and your thoughts, you may join me at my home when you are ready," Mercurio told her warmly.
"Thank you," she muttered in response.
The following day Mercurio and Zosha set out to accompany Sargon to the capital. As the carriage reached the border of Stormbasin, they could see the walls and mountains of Snowpeak to the Northeast. Mercurio and Sargon stared at it intently.
"Snowpeak, Wolf territory. They're so used to their own harsh territory I often wonder if they could survive outside if they were forced to leave Snowpeak," Mercurio pondered.
"Of course they could, do not forget that the Wolf Clan is the hardiest of Armello's Great Clans. The tribes that comprise the Wolf Clan are no strangers to hardship," Sargon replied.
"If we're going to start operations in Armello Central, we need to go over the details about the other clans. I really don't want to go into this campaign without an idea of what I'm up against or what the plan is," Zosha stated.
"Aside from the Wolf Tribe, who lead the clan. The Wolf Clan is also made up of the Coyote Tribe, who lead a very spiritual lifestyle and practice combat as a form of meditation and self-discipline. The Snow Leopard Tribe, who hold strongly to their values of honor and morality, so strongly that most would rather die than betray their clan. And finally the Razorback Tribe, they're loud and boisterous and have often been called 'war-born' due to how much value they place on honor through battle," Sargon explained.
"How do they keep from falling apart of their own volition?" she asked.
"Their cardinal law, the Uniting Howl. 'The strength of the wolf is the pack and the strength of the pack is the wolf.' They each define it differently but at the end of the day it means that they respect each other's cultural differences and band together when times are tough," Mercurio replied, "I wish our own clan held such values…"
"What of the Rabbit and Bear Clans then?" Zosha asked.
"The Rabbits have the Ocelot, Tortoise, and Bullfrog tribes. The Rabbit Clan is renowned for their diplomatic savvy, the entire Rabbit Tribe is supposedly full of silver-tongued devils. Ocelots are known for their attention to detail in everything they do, the Rabbit Clan employs them as scouts and emissaries. Tortoises are known to live very long lives, hundreds of years at a time in fact, the Rabbits rightfully prize their wisdom. Then the Bullfrogs, they're used as little more than messengers and scribes, although I have heard stories about their cooking," Sargon explained, "The Rabbit Clan is also the most business savvy, they know how money and business work and they put it to work for them. They have had close ties with the Wolf Clan for hundreds of years. Mostly due to the fact that the Wolves used to put themselves out as mercenaries and the Rabbits were their core clientele. Over time, the Wolves began to accept jobs almost exclusively from the Rabbits."
"As for the Bears, we can only confirm two other tribes. The Ox and the Panther Tribes. Their fourth tribe, the Owls are so secretive their mere existence has been reduced to rumor. The Bears themselves are healers and apothecaries. No one outside their clan knows exactly what role the Oxen play but we do know they're important to Bear Clan society. The Panthers are paladins, they tend to the needs of the people but they've also been responsible for hunting down Rot Mages and the occasional bandit. As for the Owls, they're a mystery, a carefully guarded secret in the Bear Clan. Most rumors about them say that the Owls are the real masters of the Bear Clan," Mercurio replied.
"So that's the gist of it then? Now what about our plans, I know you two have worked something out. At least clue me in to what you need me to do," she sighed.
"The Wolf Clan could become a problem very soon. We need to put some effort into weakening them, but we cannot afford for their clan to collapse. At present, the plan is to set the King against their unofficial tribe, the Dogs. Doing so will feed the fires of separatist notions within the mind of one Countess del Mar," Sargon began.
"So, I take it you want me to see to Duke Durnail. Make sure he isn't in a position to oppose her decisions?" Zosha asked.
"No, nature will tend to that. It's kept out of public's eye, but Durnail is at the death's door, and there is no cure for his sickness. He will be gone by the first snows. We can not afford any overt moves against Dogs until the spring, anyways, so... In the meantime, Prince Thane shall be our focus. We need the King to declare Thane a traitor for the time being but we cannot afford to lose him. He will be an asset later on and we must preserve his life," Sargon continued.
"Then what need have you of me? Or do you just need a nanny for your count here?" she grinned.
"Oh we have need of you my dear, how else do you propose Lord Thane to be declared a traitor? We need you to plant the seeds of doubt in the lad within the King's mind," Mercurio explained.
"So, I plant the evidence for his guards to find and Lord Thane is declared a traitor. No doubt Lord Thane's guards will be with him, I have no desire to be reduced to a pincushion," she huffed.
"Worry not, you will be ahead of Lord Thane by at least two days. I doubt that the Huntress will leave her master's side for that long a period of time," the baron consoled.
"And if I am discovered by the guards?" she asked.
"There is no pleasing you is there? You do what you have to in order to evade said guards. Oh and be careful, rumors abound that Lord Thane has connections to the Bandit Queen. Her informants may tip off Thane prematurely - if he discovers the set-up by himself, then we've only spent effort and money for no gain. He must remain isolated and clueless until we sweep in with the evidence to clear him. So stay away from those oddlaws at all costs. If they catch the wind of our operation, they will doubtlessly inform Thane just to gain his continued favor," Mercurio informed.
"I do not understand how the Prince of Wolves comes to have friends within a such a ragtag group, let alone the leader of such a group," she huffed.
"In the same way as the duke of Rats becomes involved with Night Sisters. Thane is not stupid, Zosha. He is well-aware that any successful ruler must have some extralegal means at his disposal, And for all her faults, the self-styled Bandit Queen has so far acquitted herself as a businesswoman rather than brigand she purports to be. You do the math. While at it, Rabbits… You may also wish to avoid the Far-Seeker if she's about. The nickname itself is a good suggestion as to why. She sees far and well, and seeks a lot of things that even we don't know about. I wouldn't hazard a guess as to what means she has at her disposal, if she were to go against you. Pray, do not test her. I'd rather you come back with the shield then on the shield, if you know what I mean. There are also rumors going around that she has a relationship with our Winter Wolf, and we all defend our mates with all that we have," Sargon explained.
"So let me understand this job correctly, I am to plant evidence against Lord Thane that irks the King against him. I am to do this without alerting the guards and avoiding any allies he may have about. Is that the lot of it?" she summarized.
"Yes, Zosha. How much gold do you require to see this task done?" Mercurio asked.
"At present, 50. It's a low cost because there does not seem to be a killing involved. Now if I were to be asked to kill someone, that would be a different matter. And if you do need me to kill on this job the cost will climb proportionally to the importance of the individual," she replied.
"I'm afraid we might have to ask that of you, but the payment for it will come from my wallet. Lord Thane will be meeting with an aged razorback general in the capital in four days according to my informants. I must ask that you ensure he never meets the general," Sargon added. He paused, then quickly added, "Within reason, of course. While it would be beneficial that he does not meet the general, it will not be as beneficial as to justify general coming to a soon end. Delay, misdirect, bribe if you have to, but try to swing it without any blood shed. The less death comes with all of this, the better we all will be in the long run. Ah, any reasonable bribe you have to make will be, of course, recompensed."
"Perhaps hiring thieves to do this job instead would be wise?" she suggested.
"No, the Bandit Queen has fairly cordial relationships with thieves. We can not rely on them not to pass information, and trying to hire loners… yeah, I can see your expression. Never a good idea. Besides, there WILL be some assassinations in the future, as unfortunate as it is, and I'd like for us to build up a good rapport and respect by then. Call it acclimatizing, after all, we're going to be colleagues for quite a long while… This part is important, so listen well, Lord Thane and this general will be meeting to hand off an idol to be taken back to Snowpeak. The Den Mother plans to trade this idol with the Bears for some unknown reason, we need that idol, or rather we need it to disappear, for this plan to work," Sargon explained.
"You know, you don't seem like a person who likes what we do," quipped Zosha thoughtfully, "Why did you even bother to contact the Night Mother? For all I know, you could be better served by cultivating contacts with Bandit Queen and supplanting Thane as her primary patron. So why make such an effort to get in good with a bunch of killers like us?"
Sargon sighed. "You are right. I detest killing. Each time I have to consign myself to knowledge that one more needs to die for the greater good, I mourn the potential wasted. But, as I have already said, it's for the greater good. My paws are already stained with blood, and if it means that my children will never have to endure the same, I'll gladly stain them over and over and over until I am confident that I am leaving a better world for my descendants then one I was born in," he proffered solemnly, "Many disagree with my vision of the future. They are content with majority of people being illiterate, ignorant and literally enslaved. Some of them can be bought. Persuaded. Supplanted. Swindled. But some? Some have to die, no matter what. If left alive, they will never let the future shine as I want it to. And that is why I make my bid to the Night Mother. For the future. And, if you do good, your children may inherit this future as well."
"Do you agree with this, Grinning Blade?" she asked.
"Very much so. That was one of the first things that brought Sargon and I together as friends. A shared vision of a better world. And why I beg you to do all you can to ensure Lord Thane's survival in this. Whether he knows it or not, Lord Thane shares this vision as well," Mercurio replied somberly.
A knock on the carriage door signified that they were approaching the capital's gates. Zosha picked up her belongings and prepared to begin her operations.
"Where are we staying while here at the capital?" she asked.
"I have purchased a manor close by to the castle. It's equipped with enough rooms, an office, a study, and a basement. We'll be able to make use of it for all of our operations," Mercurio answered, "Oh, it also has a secret passage. The builder of the mansion was quite a lecher and ordered a tunnel constructed under the street to the brothel in next quarter. The brothel is no more, I'm afraid, but I have discreetly purchased the lot as well, and ordered a construction of warehouse there. You might find this convenient."
"I will relay the message back to the Night Mother, this will indeed serve our purposes well," she replied. Finishing that statement she found herself thinking of the baron as a shameless lech for the second time since meeting him.
Mercurio winked at her, "One last thing to mention. While I am not opposed to you lot using this warehouse as a base of operations for your other customs, I insist on your organisation taking full responsibility for the security. If you're discovered there, I will disavow all knowledge. Fair enough, I believe."
"Fair enough. If it so happens that we're discovered, there will be a mysterious fire at the warehouse before the inquisitors find any trace leading to you. It goes without saying that none of our operatives would consider letting themselves be taken alive. And… thank you for that gracious opportunity. I am fully cognizant of how much of a boon you're handing us there, and I am certain that Night Mother will acknowledge your good will as well," she replied in her business tone.
"There is no need for thanks. What aids you, aids me, after all. Consider this my first contribution to your guild," he replied with a smile she couldn't help but find charming.
Zosha turned and left without another word, disappearing into a crowd of people heading into the city.
Sargon clicked his tongue. "I hope you know what you're doing here, Mercurio. Giving a guild a base so close to castle? King might make an example out of you in principle," he quipped.
"Let me worry about that, Sargon. I meant what I said earlier - the guild needs to be brought into fold, and this show of trust on my side will give them an insensitive to heed my counsel henceforth. I'm confident they will be able to keep my aid out of sight. It's their heads if they don't," replied Mercurio, "Besides, well… If I give Zosha the lodgings that are easily accessible to mine… you get the drift, don't you? The heart tends to go yonder, and she's… interesting, to put it mildly."
"Hopefully, your amorous endeavours won't doom us all, Mercurio," Sargon replied tiredly, "As for her… Lofty goals. Very lofty goals. But then again, aiming high and achieving higher was never an issue for you, now was it? For all that it's worth, I wish you good luck."
Heading to this aged manor they heard a town crier stating something about Alvaskrr Brandy being banned in Armello Central now.
"Well, there goes the only Wolf Clan drink I was fond of…" Mercurio sighed.
"All the better, hard to form cohesive thoughts when merely a sip of that is enough to make even a man of your caliber drunk," Sargon remarked with a snarky grin, "Besides, what will your new lady-friend think of you becoming drunk in a tavern the eve before your meeting with His Majesty King Bradley?"
"Hmm, you make a fair point," Mercurio chuckled, "All for the best I suppose. I need to get ready anyway. Plan my statements and the like."
The next day, the King's men had come to fetch Sargon and Mercurio. During the night, Mercurio had been up too late, preparing himself and passed out in the study and Sargon was forced to put his friend to bed. Now they were being brought before the king. King Bradley was finishing a meeting with the representatives of the other clans.
"Den Mother Reyya Silvermane, leader of the Wolf Clan. Grandmaster Darryl, leader of the Rabbit Clan. And Archbishop Thaddius Roland Burrows, supposed leader of the Bear Clan," Sargon whispered to Mercurio.
"Den Mother Reyya Silvermane. So that is Lord Thane's mother, I see the resemblance…" the baron mused to himself.
They hung back to listen to the what was being discussed.
"I am sorry, Reyya. But my decision is final. Stormtusk will just have to accept that his people simply cannot export that stuff anymore. With as strong as that stuff is, I'm surprised that your people can handle it," King Bradley apologized.
"Alright, my people have dealt with harsher blows than that, I suppose. The really hard part will be telling that old pig," she sighed, before chuckling about it, "Honestly, all this over a bit of liquor."
"I hardly think this is something to laugh about, Den Mother. My people have dealt with several health incidents already caused by that drink," Thaddius exclaimed.
"Of course, Archbishop. I meant no offense. My complaint was how Stormtusk is going to react to this. Your people have my deepest sympathies for the inconvenience. Now if we're done discussing trivialities, is the meeting adjourned?" she replied.
"Of course, I will not delay you all returning to your people any further. Safe travels home," Bradley dismissed.
With that the council left the meeting hall.
"M'lord, Sargon is here and he's brought a friend with him. He says it's important that the two of you meet," a tall doberman in full plate armor announced.
"Thank you, Captain Tacitus," the king replied, "Sargon, good to see you, old friend. I need your council on something. You and your friend come with me, please."
"Of course, m'lord but you seem a bit off. Are you ok?" Sargon asked.
"Fine, my friend. I've a bit of a cough but it should pass soon enough," the lion replied.
Sargon could feel something about the king that gave him an intense feeling of urgency. The king was most certainly not fine and he could feel the power at work behind this "bit of a cough" and it chilled the mage to the bone. Still, he covered up his concern for the time being and along with Mercurio, followed the king and the captain to a storage room where a number of glowing blue, rune-inscribed, stones of varying shapes and sizes floated and lit up the normally dark room.
"What are these things?" Mercurio asked.
"That is exactly why I asked your friend here to come. I was hoping he might have some explanation," the king replied, "Guard patrols around the ancient stone circles started finding them on an irregular basis about a month ago. I've shown no one else, I could've asked Archbishop Burrows but his people have a habit of hoarding such things."
"These are what's known as spirit stones, they are physical manifestations of pure and natural Wyld energy," Sargon replied.
"So they are powerful?" the king asked.
"Indeed sire. Very much so. Their physical size is irrelevant, as with the Wyld itself contained within the world we dwell, the object's size has no bearing on how much energy it can hold. They typically form when Wyld energy becomes too concentrated in one location and typically form in open space. There is some debate about whether or not it is possible for a living thing to become a spirit stone of sorts but thus far it's baseless speculation," Sargon explained.
"If such a thing is possible then maybe I should've asked Burrows for his help," King Bradley mused to himself.
While the king was lost in thought, Sargon discreetly signaled Mercurio to take one of the smaller stones and slip it into his pocket. Mercurio quickly and quietly grabbed one roughly the size of a golf ball and slipped it into a pocket on the inside of his coat. The king stared at the stones with vested interest, almost to the point where Sargon could see the beginnings of obsession and madness within the monarch's eyes.
"Take great care, m'lord. Benign as the Wyld is, trifling carelessly with said magic could prove a dangerous endeavor," the mage warned.
The king shook himself and turned to the rats.
"My apologies, now shall we return to the meeting hall? I feel it would be better to discuss your endeavors there," Bradley suggested, after clearing his throat.
"Of course, your majesty," Sargon replied.
Upon returning to the meeting hall, Mercurio drew in a deep breath as he began to explain.
"As you may know, I have been attempting to gain authority over the Rat Clan to clean it up, so to speak. Recently though, my scouts have informed me of a disturbing trend within the Wolf Clan. Know that I hold no personal grudge towards anyone within our neighboring clan and I believe that Den Mother Silvermane may be unaware of this but one Countess del Mar seems to be plotting against you. For what reason I cannot say for certain," he explained.
"Reyya did mention a Countess del Mar during the summit. Countess del Mar is apparently not a popular individual within the Wolf Clan. Still, I cannot act on this without some proof," the king sighed.
"Recently, an ally of ours was turned against us. Countess del Mar had paid him off to try to do away with my friend. In the interest of seeing how far her plot extended we discovered agents of hers within the capital planning to coerce you into setting your ire against us. Whispering to your lordship harsh laws and penalties in the interest of spreading the Rat Clan's instability throughout Armello," Sargon explained, handing King Bradley a scroll with a broken seal.
The broken seal was indeed Wolf Clan in origin but it was much different from any symbol previously seen from the Wolf Clan.
"It appears to be from the Wolf Clan but I don't recognize the symbol," he remarked.
"Countess del Mar does not see herself as a member of the Wolf Clan or as a citizen of Armello, rather she sees herself as Queen-to-be of her own separatist nation which she labels 'Dogland'," Mercurio answered, "That symbol is the 'official symbol of Dogland'. Treacherous nonsense if you ask me, sire."
"I will look into these accusations. Captain, see to this letter and launch an official inquisition into the Wolf Clan's unofficial tribe," Bradley commanded,
"As you command sire," the captain stated with a brief salute.
"Is there anything else, gentlemen?" Bradley asked.
"No m'lord," Mercurio replied.
"Nay sire," Sargon answered.
"Good, Captain will you see them out? I wish to be alone in my study for a while," he asked.
"Of course, m'lord," the captain answered.
Upon arriving back at the manner, Sargon noticed that Zosha had returned even before entering. Coming into the manor, they noticed her expression and felt her unease.
"Zosha! What happened? Are you alright?" Mercurio asked, frantic with concern.
"I'm fine!" she snapped.
"Well forgive me for concerning myself with the well-being of someone I consider a friend," he huffed.
"But my mission was met with some success and some failure," she sighed.
"What happened?" Sargon asked.
"The old general is dead. I know my orders and I know I botched them but it was an unavoidable accident. I stole the idol exactly as planned and tried to render the old boar unconscious but something happened when I did. Something that's never happened before. It was as though he suffered a heart failure and passed before I could even try to save him," she sighed.
"...Oh? Were it someone else, I'd entertain the doubt they were overzealous with their actions, but you do have an excellent track record. I'd accept him having a heart failure… but he exhibited no disposition to it. If he were, I'd advise you about that beforehand. It could've been hidden condition, of course, but I'm afraid something more foul was at play. Did he die when you knocked him out, or when you took the idol?" Sargon inquired urgently.
"As I took the idol. I remember grasping it and hearing this weird gurgling. Turned around, and there he was, clutching his chest I've done my best to make it look like a botched burglary… So it's most likely he'd be declared dead of natural causes. The ones who gave him the task will probably suspect, though… But they'd suspect either way, upon finding the missing idol, no?." she replied nervously.
"Well, what is done is done. We can hardly expect you to prevent something none of us ferreted out so far. Good job on making it out safe and sound, though..." Mercurio sighed, his eyes narrowing as he spied something odd, "What is happening to your arm, though?"
She held up her arm and strange purple markings had appeared along her arm close to where she held the idol. When Sargon saw the markings he gasped and went pale-faced from the sight.
"Rot infection," he surmised.
"Is there a cure?" she asked, calmly, but with an edge underlying the tone.
"Mercurio, do you still have that stone?" Sargon asked.
"Of course, it's right here," he replied, producing the stone.
Sargon produced a box and held it towards Zosha, hesitantly she placed the idol into the box which Sargon then snapped shut. Without another word he motioned for Zosha to touch the stone Mercurio was holding. When Zosha touched the stone an intense pain shot through her body. Her body felt a lot lighter, as if a weight she'd been carrying around had been alleviated. Mercurio grabbed her wrist and held up her arm to look it over.
"What are you doing?" she yelped, jerking her wrist back and rubbing at it, "It's still bloody sore!"
"Hush. When it's about magic, always double check. I wanted to make sure none of this rot stuck around after Sargon's treatment. It would be a crying shame to let this pretty face become marred with skin rot, now wouldn't it be?" he replied calmly, "I'm not exactly an expert on magical mumbo-jumbo, but it looks like this idol is made of pure bad news to me, Sargon. Why do we need the thrice bedamned thing, again? It's pretty clear it ain't meant for anything good."
Sargon peered at the idol in the box, distractedly, "That's why we need it. This is the totem of putrescense. If you place that into city's water well… do the words black plague mean anything to you?... Ah, yes, you're both old enough to remember the last outbreak. The Lion Clan had never quite recovered from that, you know. Disease wasted away too many bloodlines. Barring royal line, there's barely any lion nobility left alive. In fact, most survivors are peasants from remote villages and nomads. Three fourths…. Chilling proportion, isn't it?"
He pulled out a length of fine chain from his pocket and started wrapping it around the box. Once, twice, thrice, fourth…. Considering there was at least ten yards of the chain, the box soon disappeared under the metal links. A reasonable precaution, given his explanation just now. "Come to think of it, this idol does have a secondary option. It can also guard a singular person from any disease. At the expense of everyone else, of course, unless it's contained properly. Maybe that's why general discarded his mortal shackles so promptly. If that idol held back some kind of lethal disease for him, taking possession of idol would've negated those protections and magically suppressed lethal diseases tend to onset very, ah… promptly, if suppression is lifted. One of the reasons why people rarely bother. No matter how powerful a mage, suppression cannot be maintained for more than a few days without mage falling asleep, and switching on the fly is all but impossible due to this rapid onset… And before you ask, yes, artifacts like this idol allow the option, but there's only so many of them exist in the world, and making a new one requires either divine miracle, a couple hundred years of devoted monastic adherence or a number of sacrifices. People sacrifices, just so we're clear. So not particularly popular. Last one was made by Countess Bathory… And well. You DO remember that her castle was stormed by the king's forces after she took to bathing in the blood of her subjects."
Mercurio stuck a finger into his ear and wiggled it, making an exaggerated motion of dislodging something. "Sargon. You're my dear friend, and I would say without hesitation that I love you like a brother, but in the name of all that is sane, I can REALLY do without impromptu lectures!"
Sargon had the good graces to look abashed and hastily made his excuses, leaving with the menacing box in his grasp. Mercurio sighed and rubbed his face tiredly.
"Go to bed, Zosha. You're tired and you need your rest. On top of that, I expect Lord Thane will be showing up soon," he suggested, "I will be turning in as well. We all need to be at our top game in the nearest future, and you've been recently wounded. It's been taken care of, but no healing comes without price…"
"Wait, there is one other thing. Lord Thane is here in the capital ahead of schedule but he appears to be without his escorts. I saw no sign of the Huntress or the Unbroken, and it seems rumors of the Stone-Fist's self-imposed exile may be true," she reported.
"You're certain it's really him and that his bodyguards aren't with him?" Mercurio asked.
"Absolutely," she confirmed.
"Alright. Change of plans. Stay here and meet up with Sargon tomorrow. He will give you instructions for your next assignment. I will be taking care of the next part personally," he replied in a business tone.
"Are you suggesting-..." she started indignantly.
"I know you're capable but I need to tend to this myself. I must ensure that absolutely no harm befalls the Wolf Prince, no matter what," he interrupted, "Besides, we have other matters that require your expertise."
"What about my payment?" she asked.
"I placed your payment in your quarters last night," he informed, "As he said, Sargon will cover the cost for anything else. Now if you don't mind I have to pack up and be on my way."