...Slane Theocracy...Kami Miyako Council Chambers…
Maximillian stood up and had a very deep frown on his face. "I have the full report of what happened at Prart."
"Good, is Calca dead? Did we capture Neia Baraja? What were the casualties? How long will it take to finish the North so we can invade the Abelion Hills from the west?" Dominic asked eagerly, then his smile melted as he took note of Maximillian's facial expression. The storm of temper was already gathering on the face of the de facto head of the Slane Theocracy.
Maximillian swallowed hard, but he began to read, focusing entirely on the paper so as to not look at Dominic's face in return.
"Almost the entire army was wiped out. Astraka is missing and his army deserted him anyway so he's of no use to us even if we had him. Calca's edict granting amnesty has won over most of the nobility of the north. Remedios Custodio is dead and they suffered serious losses fighting against the combined armies of Calcan Loyalists, Neia Baraja's Black Justice, and the turncoats from Astraka. And to top all of that off, somehow the heretic used the power of the undead and literally… not figuratively, literally, forced an army to the ground, injuring or killing many. She's also calling herself a 'Black Paladin' and has started using a hitherto unknown form of death magic…"
"Not possible!" Dominic bellowed, slamming his fist on the table, sending a crack from the point of impact, all the way to the other side. "Paladins use holy magic, not death magic!"
Maximillian nodded grimly. "You're preaching to the choir, but I'm reading what this says, and it has been widely corroborated by surviving eye-witnesses. She's a paladin using a strange form of death magic that seems almost tailor made to fight against us. They're divided on whether to call it 'holy death magic' or 'sacred death magic' but her martial arts and skills were clearly out of the ordinary, and she very definitely ripped Remedios apart before severing her head, she and her vice commander were seen by Holocaust scripture members, they saw the entire duel. Unless you're suggesting they're lying to us, this 'is' what happened." He said with firm conviction as he sat back down.
Dominic shuddered. He thought back to the gathering in the Draconic Kingdom, where he'd first beheld those eyes, he swore he could still feel her spit on his cheek, an affront he would neither forgive, nor forget, much like the horror of the darkness he beheld within that gaze. 'How could nobody see it like I did? How did the Draconic Queen, how did Calca, how did any of them miss the crackling torment resting there? The mad fools, those damn, mad fools!' Dominic thought with frustration.
"How many survivors?" Dominic asked grimly.
Yvon took up a document from the table in front of him and stood up. "Around twenty thousand are withdrawing to the south to link up with the remaining supporters there, together with the army that was raised to fight against Gustav, who at least we have confirmed is dead, along with most of his forces. If the survivors of the north combined with the army in the south, there are perhaps as many as eighty thousand, plus we have most of the Black Scripture there. Unless the Sorcerer King personally intervenes or sends a champion of his own to face them, well…" Yvon grinned, "Even Neia Baraja cannot contend against a Godkin."
"Maybe not." Raymond pointed out, "But the whole thing about the Sorcerer King not interfering? Pipe dream. Do you really think he'll just let us hold the South? General Baraja and her Vice Commander, Skana, have a special grudge against us. Remember it was our inquisitors that went out hunting their followers. General Baraja is violent, aggressive, fanatical." Raymond stood up and leaned on the table, balling up his fists in anger. "You all know what she did in Wenmark by now. And I read the report about Prart, her flesh was literally being ripped off her body doing whatever she did on that wall, and she didn't give a damn. She will not stop unless she is put to grass. She will invade, and she will request the support of the Sorcerer King, and when she's finished in the South, she'll come for us here."
"Impossible!" Yvon declared.
"Really?" Ginedine asked wryly. "Why is that impossible? We know they've got agents in our city already, Zesshi slipped out with all our treasures, a year ago Wenmark was a powerful metropolis and now it is a collapsing burned out ruin. A year ago we were just making real advances on the Elf Kingdom in a war of revenge for a rape he committed, only to reverse our policy completely a few months ago and give him the go ahead to do more of it in exchange for his help. A year ago demihumans were the enemies of all mankind, now we're facing multiple armies where they're fighting beside humans, along with the undead, heteromorphs, and even dragons. Nothing is 'impossible' Yvon." Ginedine said sharply, "What you really mean by 'impossible' is that you don't want it to be possible, but it is, and we have to deal with the very real threat to everything we've ever known. Raymond is right, General Bareare took Ikari, Zesshi is invading the Elf Kingdom, Neia Baraja is going to move south, now what do we 'do' about any of this?"
"Ginedine and Raymond are both right," Berenice said as Raymond sat back down. "Hoping something won't happen is not a plan, so, Dominic, what do you want to do?"
Dominic ground his teeth, "For starters we'll round up all the prisoners out of the dungeons and form a new army, they're violent thugs anyway, so it doesn't matter if we lose them, promise them a pardon and let them keep their equipment after the war and we should get at least two divisions. For another, the Agante have filled in the gaps in our intelligence networks, true they usually do field work in a different capacity, but they're competent enough for this. I've already ordered squads of them to act as go betweens and to slip into positions where they'll be able to look for potential threats and remove them. They're decentralized, so the same problem that saw to the destruction of our intelligence apparatus last time, will not occur again." Dominic's fingers were tapping on the table, he was trying very hard to restrain his temper as he spoke.
"The Black Scripture will have to be withdrawn, most of them at least, to go deal with the traitorous half-elf bitch in the south. There's no way we can beat her through ordinary means, so we'll have to use extraordinary ones." Dominic said thoughtfully.
"Will they really do it though?" Raymond asked. "You're telling them to go kill someone who was not only their comrade, but also helped train them in the first place, they came up under Zesshi, she's all but emblematic of the entire unit."
Dominic all but jumped to his feet to start roaring, but then he froze, his own time as a scripture member coming to mind. He started to relax, his hand rubbing his temple. "You're right. We'll just have to make sure that when the time comes, they do exactly what they're told to do, by any means necessary."
Raymond felt a terrible chill when he heard those words, and it followed him all the way home.
...South of Yaksun…
Departing the city had been a relief to Queen Draudillon, of all the things that she had ever seen, the contents of that building were the worst. That people could do that even to a dog was unthinkable, but to another intelligent living person? She shuddered as she rode out. The city was silent. There were only a thousand or so soldiers still there, but she felt little concern that they would rise up.
She looked over her shoulder, back between the rows of spear and halberd points were the shrinking walls of the city. "Something the matter, majesty?" General Oma asked in passing.
"Just thinking is all." The Queen replied. She glanced over a few rows, the head of the messenger that Dominic had killed still sat firmly affixed to a pike, his dead eyes watching the march to his revenge go ever onward.
"May I ask about what? You seem unusually distracted." General Oma pressed gently.
"It's trivial, but if you wish to know, well… I read the stories about what they found in Wenmark, from what I hear the stories of the elf and even human slaves have been going around like wildfire through published tracts. It's become known as the city of evil." The Queen said conversationally.
"Yes?" General Oma asked, unsure of where that statement was going.
"Given what we just left, well, would that make Yaksun the city of shame? I don't imagine that what was in that little complex was better, but the population that saw it, most of them didn't know and when they found out, they were disgusted." The Queen explained, and General Oma caught on.
"I see." General Musan said from her opposite side, "So you're thinking that we won't have to really butcher our way to Kami Miyako to settle things and bring about the changes the Sorcerer King desires?"
"Something like that." Queen Draudillon replied, "I saw the tracts that were to be read on every street corner, detailing the horrors of the Theocracy's mistreatment of nonhumans. After seeing what was taking place in their own walls, I doubt many will find room to disbelieve the stories the Sorcerer King is having spread. It's hard to fight when you see your own side as the villain."
"Still, I wouldn't count on such widespread acceptance of these stories." General Oma said thoughtfully. "The Slane Theocracy has guided everything in their country towards a single set of beliefs for centuries, maybe real exposure to horror will jar some people who haven't seen it before, but many are so under the thumb of the priesthood that 'if' they believe it at all, well, the priests will just declare it to be the will of the gods and that will be that. The Sorcerer King may have a record of success, but I don't think this will work as well as he wants it to."
"Does it really have to, though?" General Musan replied curiously, "It just has to be disruptive enough that real resistance is scarce. After the war ends, he could keep the peace by putting a death knight in every city, town, and village. After all, he'll have won on the terms he declared he would, after that, he's not restricted himself from using even his most terrifying servants."
"When you put it that way…" the Queen said seriously, "that makes the leadership of the Theocracy even more desperate, if they don't win this fight on his terms, where he's actually given them a chance, then they will never get another."
"Then we'd better be prepared for a real fight when we get to Chasm City. Do you really think our withdrawal will be permitted?" General Musan asked as he thought the matter over further.
"I think so, if we keep our cavalry active and withdraw at night, they almost 'have' to take the bait, this war hasn't been going well for the Theocracy, and even if the population doesn't know it, the government does and they've got to be worried. They need a win, a significant one, and soon." General Oma answered confidently.
"Well I hope so, because we don't have the forces to take that city while the army is still there. What about the raiders we sent to liberate slaves to draw them to our ranks?" The Queen asked, looking quite the diligent queen as she did so.
"Progressing." The two generals said in unison, before General Musan elaborated with a mild chuckle of amusement. "We'll have most of the ones outside of Yaksun taken up and sent north to the Forlorn Fortress for training and equipment in a few days, they won't be great, most of them anyway, but an extra ten thousand or so will be a significant boost anyway."
"It'll have to do. And so will we." The Queen said, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the road south, barely noticing as her generals shared a resolute expression between one another.
...Crossroads…
The predatory look did not vanish from anyone's face, but Rascal brought up an important matter that gave them pause to think. "We have paid for one night's rooms, we don't have more." He looked around at their expectant faces, "Do you really think she'll be charitable about letting us stay for free?"
"Ah, no." Owl said, speaking all their thoughts for them.
"Robbery?" Moira suggested succinctly.
Rascal shook his head.
"Why not?" Mananak asked him bluntly. "We're behind enemy lines, anything goes."
"Because," Rascal said in a firm tone of voice, "any place guaranteed to have coins will be locked down during this siege, simply put, they're going to be on high alert, if you want to rob anyone, rob the guards we kill, but the rest of the time, we need honest jobs. We don't need much, we're not making lives here. We need food, we need shelter…" he was interrupted when thunder broke the stillness outside and rain began to fall, "and… well, I guess beer technically isn't something we 'need' but…" His face broke out into its usual playful grin.
A few laughs met his words, "Speak for yourself." Petyr got out through his laughter, "If I'm going to risk my life out there, damn it, I want one more drink in me before that."
"Alright, so we get jobs, what are our options?" Moira asked with concern.
"Day laborers I guess." Nagi shrugged his slender shoulders, "We just do what work we can and scrape up enough silver to pay for these rooms to sleep in, then handle other business the rest of the time."
"Then we need to get familiar with this city and how it works." Ham said matter of factly, he stroked his firm, squared chin as he thought it over. "Finding work that pays for two of these rooms shouldn't be hard, I say half of us do that, the rest start scouting locations we can hit and figure out what routines you can, we can start the day after that."
"That can work." Rascal said confidently, "Now if there's nothing else, I'd like to go take a look outside, divide it up as you see fit and just tell me which you'd like me to take care of in the morning. Either task is fine by me."
"It's raining though." Owl said.
"I know, I don't care." He said as he got up and walked out.
Things were quiet for a moment, then Moira stood up, "I'm going to talk to him, same as him also goes for me, I'll take either task, but if even one of you suggests a brothel I'll spank you!" She glared mock daggers at them as they laughed.
"That's the spirit! Specialize!" Owl said as a rejoinder.
She glared at him and tried to hold a stern expression, but he looked around in false urgency, "Who said that?"
Moira laughed again and walked out the door and down the dirty hallway, then down the stairs. She looked around the bar, Rascal was nowhere to be found, he'd spoken the truth when he said he was going out. The sound of thunder drowned out the room for a moment, she took a deep breath. "Damn it, I hate the rain." She said to herself and opened the door to the outside.
The rain was coming down in sheets, thick and fast. Its many drops fell and shattered against the cobblestone streets and wooden structures. She looked around from under the ragged awning at the door, and she found Rascal quickly enough, even through the sheets of water obscuring her vision she saw the big oaf sitting on a barrel a few feet away. He was heedless of the rain pouring down on him, he was just leaning back against the wall with his arms folded and his legs draped down as he watched the rain fall.
"What are you doing?" Moira asked. He looked at her blankly.
"What are you doing?!" Moira repeated, louder this time. He looked at her with a smirk and tilted his head as if to listen more closely.
"Damn it! What the hell are you doing out here?!" She shouted as loud as she could, he held his hand out to her, inviting her to approach. Moira looked around, everybody else was indoors. He started talking, or at least she thought as much, his lips were moving, but no sound could reach her over the pouring rain.
His hand was still outstretched, at last she sighed and slapped her hands against her sides and took a step out from shelter and into the downpour, her small hand fell into his, and he pulled her closer, not roughly, but in a compelling way that was matched by his boyish smile.
"What are you doing out here?" She asked now that she was close.
"Other than getting you wet?" He asked roguishly.
"Really?" She asked archly, "That's the best you can do? If I want flirting that bad there are a whole lot of smelly drunks in there that can manage that much." She laughed as he grasped at his heart as if she had struck him there.
"You wound me!" He laughed.
"Seriously, what the hell are you doing out here? What's going on with you?! You haven't been the same since we broke out?" She asked him with a concerned voice, his smile fled as if driven away.
"I don't want to talk about it." He said bluntly.
"But how do you know the things you do? You knew it would rain, you knew not to go out with the slaves, you…" She started to say, only for him to slap the wall, hard, and cut her off.
"I don't want to talk about it!" he shouted, her mouth shut tight.
He calmed down and his face relaxed, "Damn it Moira, it doesn't matter anyway! We're going to wreck as much as we can to help General Enri out there, and if we're lucky we'll survive to see it all through and rejoin her ranks and fight to the end of the war and go back to our homes and back to our lives and you go back to your son and everything will change for the better… but none of that other shit, not why I know the things I know, not any of it, will ever matter. Just listen when I give advice and we've got a chance at getting out of this." The rain hadn't slackened, but as he looked up at the cloudy sky, she could swear that the expression on his face was anything but tranquil.
"Just tell me this, you're really on our side, right?" Moira asked with a little frown as she folded her arms in front of her again.
He looked down slowly until his eyes were even with hers. "I am. I swear it."
"Everyone has a past, I guess. I didn't mean to pry." She replied.
"Yeah, yeah you did, but I don't blame you, I'd have questions too, maybe I'll explain, maybe I'll have to explain soon, but for now let me keep to myself and don't do anything stupid." He responded with a wry grin forming on his face again.
"Stupid like what?" She asked with a frown.
"Stepping out into the rain without an undergarment under your top for one." He replied with a randy smile, and Moira looked down, then gasped.
She covered her chest up and whirled back towards the entrance, "Damn it Rascal!" She said as she stormed off indignantly.
His laughter was at her back, but she sensed no malice in it, whatever was on his mind, her bosom wasn't the focus of it.
When he was alone again, Rascal closed his eyes and let the rain wash over him. "What a day, the weather was just like this back then too." He said to the empty air, "Never thought I'd be back here. Oh well, maybe I can get a little something done while I'm...visiting, take care of some old business."
He got up off the barrel and began to walk down the empty street, not even trying to keep the water from washing over his body, and barely looking where he was going, as memory guided him to where he wanted to go.