...Argland Council...
"Then all is settled, we will route trade South through Re-Estize and offer select deals to merchants in E-Rantel, and compensate our merchants for all discounts they offer to their counterparts there, especially the government of the Sorcerer King." There was a round of agreement as one by one the final measure was approved, documents drawn up, and notices sent out to all merchants going South.
All went well for several weeks time, until reports began to come in of...something unexpected. Merchants that had long passed through extensive road systems engaging in trade along the way, began to experience problems that had not been at issue before.
Specifically, they encountered fees that did not previously exist, laws that made little sense but grew expensive and difficult to compensate before were passed seemingly at random by the young heads of many noble houses, and sometimes merchants were imprisoned for days or weeks on trivial charges, sometimes their goods were confiscated as a result of some petty transgression that may not have existed in the first place, or which no one had ever heard of.
As these reports began to filter back to the council, the government began to send out inquiries to the Re-Estize Kingdom, asking for the cause of this sudden hostility to their merchants.
Had they not always had a good relationship when it came to the exchange of goods? Were not the Re-Estize merchants always welcomed politely and with respect for their efforts and contribution to the betterment of both nations? Why all this hostility now?
The response of the King was to promise an investigation, but preliminary reports indicated that the nobles themselves within those lands were responsible, and many speculated that it was a result of word of their passive friendliness towards the Sorcerer King, and word of special trade terms to aid in the Sorcerer King's war effort.
The Argland council appealed or an impartial mediator...but all they got in return was silence.
The matter was summed up by the Platinum Dragon Lord in three simple words during one such meeting:
"This...isn't...good."
...Outside of the city of Kasaga...Holy Roble Kingdom...
Skana was in high spirits, they'd burned down eight warehouses in the last twelve days, confiscated most of the grain and distributed the rest to the citizens in the towns themselves, and now they were about to make that nine. She formed up her ranks outside the small city of Kasaga. It was the first actual city she was going to seize, the walls were thirty feet high, it had a population of some forty thousand, and a defending military force of five thousand.
Despite being in high spirits, the place looked formidable and their army was almost as large as her own, plus...well they did have walls. Though on the other hand, she had rune crafted equipment and the best training in the world behind her and a string of unbroken victories. Morale was very high.
As before, she raised her white flag and approached the city and gave her usual speech. "If you surrender, no citizen will be harmed, no soldier will be mutilated, no home will be burned, no plunder will be seized. The only thing to be taken down to nothing will be those supplies used to wage war against us, and we will occupy the city as its governing authorities until the duration of the war...but per the Draconic Accords all good laws of the land WILL be honored! But if you do not surrender, we will batter your gates, break your lines, and all that follows is upon your heads!"
An arrow shot from the top of the gates and struck her in the chest...and bounced off her rune crafted equipment. She touched the spot where it hit...that'd leave a bruise.
"You've made your choice! But don't worry!" She said, spreading her arms out to show she was unhurt, and laughing maniacally, "You won't have to live with it for long!"
Her own forces, who saw the sudden attack under a white flag of truce, was outraged. Skana lowered her sword at the gate and shouted, "Unleash the undead! I want that gate turned to splinters!"
Undead horses were sent in and their tough undead horse bodies began to kick at the iron portcullis and gradually bend it inwards. The humans above the wall began to throw rocks and shoot arrows, but these were undead, and such minor projectiles were all but useless.
"Archers ready!" Skana shout, and the bows of the thousands were drawn and arrows were nocked. "Loose!" She called, and arrows flew out from along the line, and on the wall, soldiers died. Some arrows went to far, they missed their mark, and a civilian cry came out, but most had the sense to hide in their homes.
The metal portcullis began to break in places, but still the horses kicked, tearing more and more of it apart, and where able, darting in to kick at the wooden gate, which...being made of wood as it was...well just was not all that durable compared to the already broken iron.
'Chock...chock...chock...' the noise resounded like the ticking of a clock as the wood was kicked apart piece by piece, as holes began to appear, spears were thrust through them in order to strike at the undead, but they simply could not strike well without the ability to see what they were trying to hit.
"Horses withdraw!" Skana shouted, and as the mounts returned to the lines, she called out, "First rank! Light your arrows, aim for the gate! Burn it down! They like fire so much, let them have all they want!" She shouted over her shoulder. The sound of burning could be heard behind her. "All other ranks, sweep the walls!"
Archers on the walls set their priority as aiming for the undead, a deadly mistake for which they would pay dearly. Skana snorted dismissively and muttered under her breath. "Foolish fanatical amateur, isn't it obvious you should target the living who rule over the undead? What a waste...well, makes my job easy, so I'm not one to complain."
Arrows flew into the under passage from portcullis to gate, and the fire caught and burned, some by chance, went through the holes the horses made, and found a home in the body of an unfortunate soldier, weakening whatever defenses they had managed to muster against entry there. Skana rolled her eye, it was such a stupid waste to die or a king that just didn't give a damn about you.
The flow of arrows from her forces began to taper off just as she saw the gate begin its collapse. "Flame resistant forces, seize the gate!" She shouted, referring to those whose armor and equipment specialized in fire resistance. It wouldn't make them immune to burns from just ordinary heat, such as from boiled water...but fire itself would be well protected against.
"All others, ladders, seize the walls!" She shouted, and with a fervent cry she rushed herself forward ahead of the ladders that were hot on her heels. They went up, and she quickly jumped to the front of the line and began to climb. A part of her mused that...were Neia here, she wasn't sure of whether or not the woman would be right with her...or seizing the other side herself. Funny the little things that managed to make you smile when you might be about to die.
She reached the top of the wall and pulled herself over, some ladders were facing soldiers that tried to push it back. However they were equipped with a unique feature that threw off the defenders who were unfamiliar with it. At the head of each ladder was a rotating pair of arms tipped with horizontal adamantite claws, these arms were in turn connected to a pull system at the base when, when drawn, rapidly rotated the arms over the side, and the horizontal claws would then be secured against the stone, then at the base the pull would be secured by a peg into the ladder so that the arm could not simply be rotated back.
It was an ingeniously simple device, and...yes it could be countered, however as it was a novel design, unseen before, none of those on the walls were familiar with it, and as a result they neither knew nor had time to understand why simply pushing the ladders off wasn't working. Their frantic temperament worked against them and their fear made them unreasonable. A few had some luck, the ladder's claws had not found purchase or it had been pushed off before it could be secured into place. But where it worked, it worked well, and Skana soon found herself faced with a few bully boys in armor they did not know how to use. One tried to rush her with his spear, only for her to step aside and give him a swift kick, sending him reeling and falling off the wall and down into the city, never to move again. Behind her others were quickly coming up and outnumbering those who were supposed to defend those positions. She had a savage bloodthirsty look on her face, her one eye fearless and her tight smile revealing her teeth, as if she were about to bite into them. She licked her lips as if they were food being served up to her, and she rushed with a valkyrian warcry at the nearest unfortunate soul, who quite lost his head over the furious assault, and his companions withdrew in disorder as Skana's followers moved behind her, their one handed sword techinque that combined monk abilities and counter strikes proved very effective against those who had weaker training and equipment...and much reduced numbers. The wall fell within minutes of the ladder's being raised, and the city's military forces began to withdraw to what they believed were more defensible positions along the roads.
"Call the mounts! Cavalry charge!" She shouted, and dozens of soldiers went back through the fallen gate, where a handful of men had died, called or the undead horses, the tireless and fearless mounts were perfect for this task, and the soliders rushed back to the front, swords out and leaning in, the undead mounts were from hell's own stables, and the impromptu spear formation the Astrakian forces had intended to use to stave off a charge...and which would have worked against living beasts that would have feared to be impaled...turned into a speed bump of blood and misfortune. Hot behind those horses came the infantry under Skana, and they pursued the remaining military forces deep into the small city until they reached the military headquarters, some fifteen hundred or so of the enemy forces had survived to that point in the fighting, and they had chosen to make a stand. Skana's ranks began to form up, arrayed in disciplined ranks against the city's militia, a burly looking man with a thick beard and a heavy looking hammer was at the center of those, and beside him an older looking man in a priestly robe.
Skana stepped forward, the two sides stared one another down across the open stone way, no more than fifty feet apart, the city's forces mostly armed with wooden spears tipped with iron or steel, or short swords and shields, standard fare, the larger looking fellow appeared to have some enchanted equipment on him...but she was sure it was nothing compared to what she possessed.
"Surrender your forces and lay down your arms." Skana said as she stepped to the fore, "If you do I will spare you all." Blood dripped from her face, surrounding her one good eye and giving her already fearsome face an even more terrifying quality...but blood also dripped from her sword, blood staned her armor, and her steps forward left bloody bootprints behind her.
Simply put...were it not for the reputation she had established through limited destruction before...she would not have presented a very credible face just then.
"I will never follow the undead! I served under Remedios Custodio, I fought for this country! You and your kind are selling us all out! Abandoning the gods, our ways, our traditions! I will be dead before I submit to the likes of you!" He snapped and spat on the stone that separated the distance between them.
"Come back to the gods my child..." The old man said softly..."Please...they are merciful, you must not follow this evil path..." His eyes were warm, he held his hands out invitingly, as if calling a grandchild over to him.
Skana looked at him in disbelief. "Merciful? I saw what the gods did when their alters were turned into dinner tables on which to devour the children of this country. If that is mercy I will have none of it. I follow the true god, the god of deeds and of justice who brought an end to the horror. Do not tell me of the god's mercy priest!" She said fiercly. She turned her gaze to the large warrior. "I ALSO fought for this country, our ways nearly destroyed us, we were unprepared, we were weak, and we were nearly undone, not because we strayed from our ways, but because we kept to them when they no longer worked! You tear this country apart to return us to failure?!" She pointed her sword at him, "I do not want to kill you, any of you! But I will not see us overthrown and destroyed again by our failure to change! Please! Surrender and let me carry out the mercy of my god! The true mercy! Your continued lives!" She said passionately.
The hulking figure hefted the hammer into his free hand and shook his head. "No. I will have the world I know, restored to itself, or I will die, that was my vow when I saw Jaldabaoth's destruction of our country, and I will keep to it, I am sorry warrior woman, but I must kill you." He said softly, but firmly.
"And I am sorry that you must die." She said with equal softness and firmness, "But let it be only us at least, enough have died today, let it be only one more, and if you win, my soldiers will withdraw, if you lose, your soldiers will at least have the choice of keeping their lives."
He grunted and looked back at his soldiers, many of them were young, some only newly come to the age where they were permitted to fight at all, his gaze swept over one shoulder, then to the other, and he looked to the priest, they shared a silent moment of acceptance, and nodded to one another. "You heard her old man, bless me in the name of the gods."
As he knelt to take his blessing, Skana looked over her shoulder. "If I should fall, honor my will and withdraw, retrieve any dead we have, but take no vengeance! Swear by the Sorcerer King!" She commanded, and the uniform echo of "By the Sorcerer King!" came out in three loud shouts.
She waited patiently as the priest finished uttering his final words to the great big bear of a man, he towered over Skana, easily six and one half feet tall and broad as a barn door, compared to Skana, who was not much taller than Neia and about as broad as an outhouse door.
"What is your name?" She asked him as she took her first step forward, "You're a brave one, and have your honor even if you're on the wrong side, I'd hate for your name to be lost after all this is over."
"They call me Braunin, Braunin Takos." He said, "And since we're being polite about this...what is yours? He asked as they closed the distance between one another ever more inexorably.
"Most know me as Skana the Bold...but you know...if you kill me, put on my tombstone, "Skana Baraja." She said with a smile on her lips and his eyes went wide as he learned just who he was fighting.
It was to his credit that the knowledge of his famous opponent did nothing to his willingness to fight, and his hammer swung to the side in a blow that would have easily crushed a skull, but Skana ducked and tried to dart in for a strike at his lower body, only for him to follow the spin of his hammer backwards with the momentum, taking him out of reach, and then forwards as he raised it up, and try to bring it down on her head. She rolled out of the way then sprang to her feet and jumped on to the top of the hammer as it smashed into the stone and before it could be lifted, and from this position she made a perfect thrust with her sword, straight through his eye, her other arm thrust back behind her to provide both forward momentum and perfect balance. He stared for a moment out of his one remaining eye, as if he could not believe it had happened, his mouth fell open and he tried to speak, but no words came out, he lost his grip on the hammer, and slowly toppled to the ground at her feet as she withdrew the blade.
Though neither of them knew it at the time, among the ranks of the defeated, a young man stood who had a...talent for art, and he would in the days ahead, draw Braunin's final moments over and over as a man obsessed, surviving to the end of the war, he would eventually paint 'The Death of Braunin' sized to living proportions, and it would tour the new world as a testament to the war fought in his youth.
Skana looked down at the dead Braunin in the moment of his passing and stepped off of his hammer. He must have been a master of the weapon, a great warrior...and a great loss for the kingdom. She felt little relief that she was still alive, and no joy at her victory, she swung her sword to one side to clean the blood off and approached the forces of the defeated Braunin, when she was twenty paces away she shouted, "Is there anybody ELSE?!"
The sound of metal striking stone as weapons were dropped, echoed like rain on a tin roof for a full minute, before the defeated ranks fell to their knees in surrender. The old priest as on his knees as well, but not with them, when Braunin fell he went over to the corpse, as fast as his old body could carry him, and went down to it, as if he could not believe what he saw, he shook the body gently. "Come on Braunin...get up...get up...this isn't a game, you need to GET UP! GET UP! PLEASE GET UP!" He shook the fallen soldier over and over, tears fell from his cheeks as he tried to get Braunin to rise, but bodies tend not to do that without magical involvement, and so nothing happened.
Skana turned to her soldiers, "Secure the prisoners, we're holding this city!"
Her forces cheered, but Skana turned and approached the old priest. "He's very...very dead." She said to him. "He took a sword through the eye, how many people do you see surviving that?" She asked. The old man turned his gaze over his shoulder up at her and said, "Don't talk like you know my son! He's strong! He'll get back up and win! He always gets back up! He always gets back up! He always gets back up..."
Skana's eye snapped wide open, "Your son?" She asked.
"Braunin Takos, military commander of Kasaga...son of Amran Takos...priest of the god of life." The priest said softly, looking down at the corpse of his son.
"God of life...please...return him to me...please...have I not served you...have I not given my life to you and asked nothing in return...grant this old man one wish...return my boy to me..." The priest knelt in prayer over the body as behind him the soldiers of Braunin were bound with ropes and had their armor and weapons removed from them.
Skana had the good grace to let him pray in peace. For a few minutes silence reigned and she said, "I'm sorry about your son. He was very strong, very skilled, not many last that long against me, even a minute is an eternity in a fight, and he nearly killed me three times before I could strike twice. I will remember his name, Amran, father of Braunin." She said solemnly.
"You won't have to...he'll get back up, the god of life will answer my prayer." He said in a voice as small as a child's, it cracked as the words came out.
She shook her head. "No, he won't, whatever those gods were, they're not answering prayers for anyone, if they did, I'd be on your side instead of that of the Sorcerer King. I know of only one god who does anything for anybody, all others...are just names." She sighed, "I'll let a few of his men free to come help with his body, on the condition that they return after taking Braunin's body to where you can prepare him for a proper burial."
"You're not going to desecrate him?" The priest asked with surprise. "You're going to let me bury him under the customs of the gods you resist?!"
"Why would I do that?" Skana asked quizically.
"You follow the undead!" The priest said, "You reject the gods, the gods give us all knowledge of how to behave, if you reject them, you fall to villainy and evil!"
"You'd prefer I be that way?" She asked him in seeming surprise.
"Of course not!" He said, affronted.
"Me neither." Skana said, she cleaned off her sword and sheathed it, "My god commands us to reflection and contemplation on our actions, worship for us is reason and the pursuit of higher virtue, obedience to his will means emulation and reflection of the qualities in which he excels, and the furtherance of our pursuit of justice and improvement in who we are. If I were to degrade a noble warrior's body such as this man here," she gestured to his corpse, "I not only degrade myself, I set a standard of conduct for how I too wish to be treated in return. I needn't follow your gods to come to good reasons to be a better person, because those reasons to be a better person, don't require any gods at all to be valid. To me, my god is the example I follow. I don't know what true divinity is as a thing, I only know it as it is revealed by noble choice. So yes, bury your son, give him the honors he requires, I will release on conditional probation, every member of his command if they wish to bid him farewell, I will do that because that is what it means to be Skana the Bold, and a member of Black Justice."
She turned to walk back to the now bound formation to call for volunteers to help with his body, leaving the stunned old priest behind her, and then looked over at him one more time, "And again...I am...truly sorry about your son, no parent should have to bury their child, but that is war...parents bury their children, and those old ones with a past, make decisions that deprive the young of their future. If it means anything...I fucking hate this."
And then she walked away, shouting for volunteers among the defeated and dispensing orders for the seizure of military provisions and the dispatching of orders for replacement of her forces so she could move on to the next target.
That afternoon the banner of Astraka came down, and the banner of Queen Calca went up. And though many cheered, Skana was not among them, she might later, but for now she felt no real satisfaction in what she had accomplished. She simply went to the governor's office that she'd had 'vacated' for her use and waited for him to be brought from his home to brief her. She had a lot to do to be ready to hand this city over to her replacement, whoever that might be.
...Prart...
Neia went over the list for the third time, there were thirty thousand arrows made and enough swords to replace every one of them at least once if one should break, most of the weapons available were Rune Craft and they hand twenty five thousand soldiers under arms with more coming in all the time.
She looked over to Skana's letter. To the untrained eye it seemed clinical, but Neia knew her lover like she knew no other in life, and it was the little word choices that showed she was hurting over her actions, that the reality of war and the losses endured were painful, and that though those of power may speak of the necessity of sacrifice in dire times to win a greater future...they would do well to think long and hard on whether any such time, was then and there. She took the time to write in return, promising that she was being thought of daily and was dearly missed, and what is more, promising that they would raise a cup together in Hoburns one day very soon.
When that was dispatched she turned to another document, she rubbed her forehead and let out a sigh, and she said softly, "The bards never sing about this part of war..." and in an inspired moment she sang softly to herself, "And the tired little Neia wrote one more note...she tried and she tried but the paper piled high, till it seemed it might fall and she'd die...the ink ran black and it cut her no slack...as she tried to read one more thing...but when it was all done she couldn't have fun...because papercuts stung like fuck..."
She chuckled a little bit and shook her head, deciding to enjoy the bit of humor that was often lacking these days, and read the report on the captured spies, two were caught entering the city, and one was caught assisting them. Ironically they'd been caught because they had tried dressing like Black Justice priests...when all the priests were at the temple, and the one assisting them had been caught because he was dressed like a Black Justice soldier, but did not have rune crafted gear.
On reading this, she decided that the best way to prepare against such things was coordinated positioning. She drew out a map of the city and laid out grid squares over it in thin pencil, she then labeled each grid, and determined how many soldiers would be assigned to each area, and that group would only perform duties in that zone, further, each group would be identified by a tag identifying their grid coordinate plus a number and a shift identification. In this way the large numbers could be identified more easily and an 'out of place' party would be easily identifiable. Further she crafted new rules dictating that a soldier thought to be suspicious by any two or more could be ordered to be escorted to their purported position to be identified by his comrades prior to resuming their walk to wherever they were going. It was burdensome, but false soldiers were far to dangerous to overlook.
She imagined one opening the gate to an army of a hundred thousand fanatics following Remedios...it was terrible to contemplate. She shuddered and handed it to her aid, and then she went to the next note.
...Hoburns...
Astraka's mood was a mixed bag really, on the one hand, a dozen villages with Black Justice banners up had been siezed, on the other hand he'd taken almost no prisoners and most of them had not suffered much in the way of losses. Their use of undead inflicted casualties on his own men while the humans withdrew, the few captives had no information...and why would they, as peasants they weren't exactly well placed to know anything. He gritted his teeth in anger and hated that thought, one peasant had been, but she'd died before he could get anything from her. That frustrating defeat taunted him still.
Still, his soldiers DID occupy those places for now. Reports filtered in that adventurers from the Sorcerous Kingdom had been seen providing scouting support, but as yet none had been captured. It was as if they were all 'avoiding' a real fight and just 'giving' him territory and making him pay a small price along the way for expanding his zone of control. Still, it made the other nobles happy.
What really had him angry though were the reports of the raids on his own villages and towns, Black Justice fighters had captured numerous supplies and then simply abandoned the area, it didn't make any sense? How did they plan to win? It did hurt his supply lines, he found himself having to take a disturbing amount from the supplies in Hoburns to keep his armies marching, but they were pinpricks.
That was what he was thinking when the messenger burst in "Sire! the city of Kasaga has fallen and an army of Cascan Loyalists are now occupying the city!" The man had wild eyes and a shocked expression on his face. Astraka's head snapped up from what he was writing.
"What?!" He shouted, "How?!"
"Sire, the army that was raiding supplies, they...well we don't have the full details yet, but it seems they used the undead to break down the iron portcullis, and then mounted the walls with some kind of...I don't know, magic ladders that couldn't be pushed off, they swarmed over it, defeated the garrison and...sir, Braunin is dead, killed by the commander of Black Justice in a duel." The messenger's hand shook, he was sweating, breathing hard, he'd obviously come a long way to bear the news.
"Braunin was an exceptional warrior, a master of heavy weapons, especially that hammer of his, who killed him, who was their commander?" He asked. "Was it Neia Baraja?" Astraka asked, the terrifying woman's face filling his memory.
"No sire, it was her right hand, Skana." The messenger said.
"Well then there is only one question isn't there...how many men will it take to take Kasaga back, and cut off the right hand of Neia Baraja?" Astraka asked with a sadistic look on his face.
...Gustav's line of march...
He now had fifteen thousand soldiers and ten thousand skeletons, nowhere near enough to face off against the might of the South, but his regular communications with Neia Baraja and from Kedyn and now Kasaga informed him more and more of his strategy to be, he sent his soldiers to sieze military supplies from hostile towns, and after the twelfth one to be taken without killing any citizens and accepting all surrenders, it was no routine for a highly undermanned garrison to simply yield and allow the military stores to be taken without any fighting. Peasant levies didn't much care for who ruled, and they didn't much care if one glory hungry fool wanted to die for a king who didn't even know his name.
Without risk to themselves, they were now increasingly well supplied, and he was sure that as King Astraka got more and more information about what was happening, the picture would form in his mind and he'd supply his forces with greater care and heavier guard. For now Gustav avoided pitched battle, he cut down scouts readily enough, but he kept his soldiers well away from any battle they couldn't easily win, and kept his eyes on the line of march that Remedios Custodio and her allies would use through the border.
It was no surprise then...when he saw them. Well, it should not have been a surprise, and perhaps it wasn't, but it was awe inspiring, he saw a line of soldiers stretched out for miles, that had to be Remedios...the Southern Nobles...and the Slane Theocracy all marching together, the invasion of the North had begun.
...Border of the Slane Theocracy...
General Enri felt as nervous as the night she'd given up her innocence with her husband, that fumbling gentle learning experience she'd shared with him had been a beautiful one, she'd been terrified of doing something wrong, of screwing anything up, and in retrospect as she looked back on it, he must have felt the same, when the candle light alone had shown their nakedness to one another, it had been nerve racking but beautiful. Practice had indeed made perfect though, and his potion work had yielded some...wonderful results in that arena.
Now as then, she felt naked, but this was not beautiful, and she was fully clothed, she wore simple cloth armor, rich looking clothing, the sort of thing an empress might adorn herself with, but she was no empress and this was no ordinary clothing. She kept a hard look in her eyes to hide her nervousness at leading an army, this was a whole other kind of innocence that she was going to lose, and mistakes would not be awkward, they would be lethal.
Her clothing was heavily enchanted against an array of magical attacks and physical ones alike, her liege had given her the finest equipment anyone could possibly ask for to protect her, and when he'd spoken to her he said, "Stay safe."
It was a warm feeling, like a father sending his daughter off to school, and she treasured the words of her sovereign lord.
"Dear Sun," she said to the goblin strategest, "I haven't seen any of our scouts return for awhile, should I be concerned yet?" She asked.
He laughed the laugh of a creaky old man and stroked his long white beard and said, "No, not yet, for now we fortify our position, we must ready this place to hold our supplies, we will need them all for the invasion. But don't expect them to simply let us, we must defeat their first host here, for now it is enough that our scouts find them, and then we will know how to manipulate them, plus the Sorcerer King has instructed us to wait here until he calls, I understand he wants to speak with all the commanders before we take the offensive."
"I understand." She said, and held a determined look on her face and she tightened her grip on the reigns.
"Hard to believe I was ever a peasant." She said with a heavy sigh.
"Lord Ainz makes fools of kings and kings of peasants, nothing is what it seems, and everything is better once he has touched it, don't concern yourself with what you were, worry about what you can be, my dear general, and be the best you can be at it, and we'll be fine. You have one of the best armies the world has ever seen at your back, and I would not want to be in its way when the time comes." He said and finished with a hearty chuckle.
"I suppose you're right." She said, "I must trust that my lord knows what he is doing, after all, Lord Ainz is never wrong." She said firmly.
...Near E-Rantel...
General Nimble and Emperor Jircniv were only a few miles from the city, they'd passed through a dozen villages on the way, all of them bore considerable protection in the form of fine stone walls, most of the walls had soldiers on them, and not all of those soldiers were human, there were odd men who looked like goats, there were dwarves, there were minotaurs and even Zern, the standard undead were not lacking either, where...by standard, he meant legendary death knights, and skeleton labor was everywhere.
"We're almost to the city sire, we should be there tomorrow morning, but can I ask, now that we are almost there, what did you think of what you've seen?" Nimble asked.
"I think I've seen the future." Jircniv said simply. "We're looking at the world to come, and I am more than a little impressed. Children guarded by unbeatable undead guards, humans and demihumans working cooperatively, undead labor freeing up the peasants from backbreaking labor and short lives..." He sighed, "General Nimble, you've known me for a long time now...am I a good emperor?"
"The second best I've ever seen." He said truthfully.
Jircniv chuckled, "I like to think I measure up that highly. I value my people, I work hard for them, but I didn't realize how limited my view really was, slavery to me was just a means to an end, unpleasant but necessary, only to learn instead that I had facilitated horror without reason and it was holding my people back instead and depriving them all, slave and free alike, of the exploitation of their own talents, and how they could benefit each other. Yet seeing what was done by the Sorcerer King, its impossible not to feel like a second rate figure forgotten by history right after the funeral. All we can do is imitate him, and perhaps that is wisdom enough. What is your opinion General Nimble?"
Nimble looked away from the emperor, straight ahead down the long road, mail carriers rode past on undead horses pulling carts of boxes and letters, villages which had once been their own self contained little worlds, were now all tied together, and in turn tied to the capitol. A group of adventurers rode past, five of them, two women and three men, they wore iron plates but had equipment on that would have once upon a time required at least mythril rank to purchase. By the side of the road there was a dwarf supervising a group of undead who were building a rest area, unsurprisingly, there was a group of humans taking advantage of that by building inns and other supply stations to take advantage of travelers needs.
"I agree with sire. You remember, I was there on the Katze Plains, I saw what he did, he killed all those people...but...he actually said he wanted to exercise caution by not killing us, he thought about how that would impact you, he doesn't seem to feel guilt or remorse, but at the same time he also doesn't seem to desire to hurt anyone either, I can't help but think that if he hadn't been asked to use that spell, he would have used a less lethal one...not that I fault you sire...nobody knew...nobody could know just what he was capable of at the time. But when I look around at what he does when he does not have to strike down opposition...I wonder why anybody would ever get in his way? It would be like a starving man pleading for food, beating away the invitation for a banquet because of some pointless aversion to the host. At the end of the day...I think we're going to make the world better than we found it by following him, and if I live my life doing that, well its been a life worth living."
Jircniv slapped him on the back, a rare familiar gesture. "Well said General Nimble, I'm going to miss you when you retire."
...Mountains of the Dwarves...
General Zaryusu missed his lake, but he had to admit that the view was breathtaking. He stood watch as they gathered their forces and secured the entrances around more of the mountain passes, but more than that he had his quagoa forces and his dwarven forces both within his army and from within the city, digging steadily, with their abilities that was childs' play, and as they hauled out stone he increased his fortifications, the frost giants he had at his command were able to haul enormous amounts of rubble away from the work site, and the underground tunnels were steadily progressing. Soon not only would the best paths become impassable, but on the order of his master, he could invade Re-Estize at will anywhere along the East.
...Re-Estize Kingdom...
Philip felt great, the treasure seized from all those stupid Argland merchants had been more valuable than his entire estate, and it served them right for not giving deals to HIM that they were going to give to the Sorcerer King. What's more, he was able to initiatie skirmishes everywhere thanks to the overreach of King Zanac, it had angered all the nobles, and when Philip had begun to rebel with his outright refusal and then escalated to violent resistance, others flocked to him, skirmishes became battles, and everywhere he went, victory followed, the royal faction wasn't even trying to fight.
For fools, that was mighty smart, after all he was King Philip, no woman did not want him, no noble did not envy him, and no crown could be denied him, he was a military genius, and he was destined to carve his name into the rock of history forever. He grinned at the thought of all his greatness, and called for his favorite courtesan, the one Hilma provided was very good about providing him with the release he needed, he needed her only for a minute, plus, she hung on his every word all night long, and she always left when he told her to, what more could he ask for out of a woman?
...Draconic Kingdom...
Queen Draudillon did not waste any time in any of her tasks, and nor did Vermillion, a list of candidates was drawn up and their character was thoroughly investigated, most of them were scratched off, but there were a few worthwhile, with those few they were sure of, they began to write letters of summons and to write out letters of appointment to hand to them and award them titles of nobility for their replacements.
Similarly, the day after the Sorcerer King's departure...and that fury he'd allowed to tear apart Lancoptra, she'd responded by sending out entire companies of soldiers to seize the grounds and properties of nobles, those who resisted were immediately arrested, a few were killed during the process, but most fell without a fight, the great purging of the nobility was underway.
There had been a few guards hesitant to obey the command to target the nobility, and to make her point she walked them to the courtyard, the meaty chunks of the deceased had remained, as did the body of Lancoptra.
As they gawked at the gory sight, she turned to them and explained the new reality.
She pointed to Lancoptra's corpse. "That was Lancoptra, you know of him by reputation I assume?" A round of nods, all of them unpleasant, greeted her question.
"Yesterday the Sorcerer King visited, he brought with him a fury, a demon of revenge, she picked Lancoptra up, took him into the air, and ripped him apart, and dropped him where he is now. She had quite a beautiful laugh...but left here covered in blood. Those other 'stains' that you see in the depressions in the stone...are other nobles, those were killed by the Sorcerer King, he killed them with the pressure of his power alone, now they're just meaty mush. The reason all of these are dead is because they played a personal hand in stealing from one of his servants, robbing her of a reward for service she rendered to him while acting on our behalf against the beastmen. He's promised to revisit this kingdom again if the corruption remains."
"I do not want him to come back for that purpose. Unless you wish to go and oppose his will, you will obey my order, we purge the nobles, and we build an entirely new system on the ashes of the old. Understood?" She asked.
There were no questions, and they went out to do what...in the corner of their minds, most of them wanted to do anyway.
AN: Reviews feed my hunger, do not let me starve. :) Also... Per a fan request, I've created a Discord server: : / / . g g / y