Chapter 30
That damn Raymond is a slavedriver. No wonder Windstride ran off.
It was a thought that bordered on sacrilegious, but it wasn’t made in earnest. Far ahead of the advancing Theocracy forces, “Divine Chain” Edgar Kukuhu Beaumarchais couldn’t help but silently grouse over his circumstances. He knew that it was just the lot of a scout – to be alone and vulnerable as they perford their various tasks, mostly unappreciated by pretty much all but those who shared the sa tribulations. To everyone else, it was simply a role no more difficult than that of a footsoldier or even a packhorse. There was no consideration as to how much work went into physical reconnaissance.
As the 9th Seat of the Black Scripture, tasks like this were mostly trivial, but sothing in the valley below was setting off his danger sense – alarmingly so. It was a rare feeling: one that he usually only sensed when in the company of his fellow Black Scripture mbers. He sent the army Rangers that were working with him back to stand by at the top of the pass into the basin before going down alone as he crossed off the various possibilities on his ntal checklist.
Heroic Adventurer convention? No. Elder Dragon mixer? No. A Godkin party that we were not invited to? No.
Everything on the list was sothing equally ridiculous, and he couldn’t think of any rational explanation for what was going on. The reports that accompanied their dispatch detailed the arrival of a Demihuman army, primarily composed of Goblins…but Goblins were, by and large, a weak race – even weaker than Humans were.
The High Council had been aware of a disturbance occurring in the Abelion Wilderness for so ti now. Through divination and more mundane surveillance, they watched as populations of various Demihumans were displaced. Like ripples in a pond, they moved outwards from a point of origin sowhere in the Abelion Hills. Unfortunately, Thousand League Astrologer was still on sabbatical, so it was the most information they could safely co up with.
Three major Demihuman movents were of particular concern to the Slane Theocracy. The first had ended itself while traversing the mountains north of the Great Forest of Evansha. The second was a large, modestly powerful group that ca through the southern half of The Neck, which was intercepted by their forces before they could cross into the borders of the Theocracy. Finally, there was this Goblin army that had spilt into the upper reaches of the Katze River.
Though it was a substantial threat, Raymond Zarg Lauransan, Cardinal of Earth and the Commander of the Six Scriptures, seized upon the event as an opportunity to train and recover from what had befallen them since the previous spring.
When it rains, it pours.
The old idiom appeared to be in full effect: Windstride, the forr 9th Seat, had betrayed the Theocracy for so unfathomable reason, stealing the Crown of Wisdom and killing the Miko Princess in the process. The Sunlight Scripture had been wiped out and was effectively defunct until suitable replacents had been trained, and the Black Scripture had taken grievous losses in an encounter with a powerful Vampire while on an unrelated task. Beaumarchais was one of those who had been killed – it was his first big mission, too.
Sighing at the mory, he continued creeping his way down into the valley. He ca across a series of locations that appeared to forrly host large encampnts, then found standing encampnts that were similarly empty. Though the occupants were not present, the sll was unmistakable: Goblins, just as reported.
He did not linger for long, and eventually encountered sothing that was decidedly not a Goblin. Standing across from a river ford, near the ruins of an old wooden bridge that was once a part of the trail, were four figures. Three, he instantly recognized, causing him to finger a throwing knife in his bandolier. The two most dangerous ones were Death Knights, the other was an Elder Lich holding a clipboard for so reason. The fourth appeared to be a tall Human woman, also holding a clipboard, speaking to the Elder Lich.
From her posture and gestures, she was speaking in an authoritative manner. He watched the movent of her lips in an attempt to make out her words, then realized that she was speaking in the principal language of the Theocracy. Beaumarchais frowned, mind working to make sense of the puzzle before him.
At first, he thought that the fourth figure was also one of the Undead, like a Vampire or so other type that held a close resemblance to Humans. The pieces fell together quickly once a gust of wind picked up the banner propped up by one of the Death Knights.
The Sorcerous Kingdom…
He supposed that it made sense. Though the situation in the spring was murky at first, intelligence gathered by the Windflower and Clearwater Scriptures about the nation that had abruptly popped up to their north explained everything before him.
They had Death Knights, Elder Liches and Soul Eaters aplenty, which explained the sense of danger that he perceived emanating broadly from the basin. The forr citizens of Re-Estize were also alive and well, confird every day by rchants passing through from nations abroad. The Theocracy’s forces stationed along the border in the Riverlands also said much the sa thing.
Beaumarchais retreated further back into the trees to gather his thoughts. As far as the Slane Theocracy was concerned, they held a strictly neutral stance with their new neighbours to the north. The main force was still a few days away, but it was filled with proud new Scripture candidates that were coming from their victory in the west and going into the basin expecting the next fight.
Would so advance warning be enough? He scratched his head, looking up towards the pass. The force had more than a few narrow-minded and muscle-brained zealots out to prove themselves, so he decided that even a stern warning was no guarantee that soone might act without orders.
If the Sorcerous Kingdom was occupying the basin, he couldn’t imagine that any of the invaders had survived. Once he confird the threat had passed, he could report back and turn the entire operation around. The best way to avoid conflict was for them to never et at all…but what if they already knew they were coming? He had to minimize chances for an incident, and it wasn’t as if they had any diplomats in the fielded subjugation force.
He let out a resigned sigh as he stepped out onto the trail. His luck was terrible with won ever since he was inducted into the Black Scripture. Hopefully, it wouldn’t rear its ugly head here. He walked back down to the ford. The woman glanced in his direction and waved the Elder Lich away.
“Good morning,” he said in the cheeriest voice he could muster.
“Good morning,” the woman smiled back.
The sounds of the river filled the air between them. It occurred to Beaumarchais that, while he was determined to prevent a misunderstanding, he hadn’t thought about what to say. His smile froze on his face.
This…is la, is it not? I am an idiot.
“Is there sothing I might help you with?” The woman prompted.
“Ah, erm, yes,” he stamred out limply. “I am, um, Bo. From the Theocracy.”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Bo.” The woman’s smile did not fade, “I am Baroness Ludmila Zahradnik.”
Her cool, refined manner did not help his ntal recovery in any way. He was a rough-spoken man, raised to fight on the front lines of the battle for humanity’s survival in a world full of powerful threats. Her speech reminded him of a wealthy rchant’s daughter, or maybe a well-to-do aristocrat…actually, she did say Baroness, did she not?
Beaumarchais made a more careful examination of her. The woman was clearly descended from a southern bloodline, with brown eyes and full, chestnut hair that flowed down over her shoulders. She had the attractiveness that aristocrats tended to have, but her tall stature and clear features lent to her a handso beauty rather than the softness one would have expected from a scion of northern lineage. Beneath this attractive appearance, however, she was strong – far stronger than expected for the people of the northern nations. Considering her youth, she would have been a candidate for one of the Six Scriptures if she had been born in the Theocracy.
The northern nations of humanity had fallen away and corrupted the teachings of the gods, so it was rare for such a thing to occur. Her temple-schooled speech gave him the answer: she was not a heretic – she was one of their own faithful. He understood that the remaining temples in the north had reined in the more aggressive aspects of their faith that were now promoted in the Theocracy, but she was one of their own nonetheless. A bud that had blossod in a land that was commonly considered lost to decadence and heresy. As he marvelled at the notion, she cleared her throat.
The Death Knights standing behind her changed their posture, and Beaumarchais stepped back. She wouldn’t send them after him for being rude, would she? He disliked fighting Undead. Various other reasons aside, he was inherently at a disadvantage in direct combat against them. Her gaze shifted slightly, and Beaumarchais staggered forward as a large hand heavily slapped him across the back.
“Yo,” a deep voice sounded from behind him. “I ca running down when we got your signal. I know your luck with won has been terrible recently, but you are not supposed to call for reinforcents when you find one out in the middle of nowhere.”
Rubbing his sore back, Beaumarchais turned to level a scowl at the burly newcor. He was another mber of the Black Scripture, similarly dispatched for the opportunity to recover his strength after being slain by the Vampire.
“This guy…” Cedran let out an exaggerated sigh, “Has he even offered you his na, or has he been ogling the young domina this entire ti?”
Beaumarchais’ scowl deepened. Though his two shields marked him as a defensive Fighter, Cedran was a rogue in many other ways.
“Bo, I believe,” Baroness Zahradnik made a slight gesture, and the Death Knights returned to their forr stances. “I am Baroness Ludmila Zahradnik. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, mister…”
“Ah,” Cedran waved his hand as he made a noise, “there is no need for such formality in the middle of nowhere! Bo, eh…I would be pleased if you called Cid, domina.”
“Hey ‘Cid’,” Beaumarchais frowned, “are you not being too familiar?”
“What are you talking about?” Cedran grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around, “She has seen us before.”
“S-she has?”
“Ai…did your return take sothing out of your head along the way? Do you not recall the last ti we ca through here? The na? Do not be staring so passionately at her this ti, or one of her footn might co over and put out your eyes.”
His face screwed up in confusion. The last ti they passed through here was on their mission to deal with the Catastrophe Dragon Lord. He traced their route in his mind…
“Ah.”
“‘Ah,’ he says,” Cedran snorted. “I hope you will forgive my addle-brained friend for his rudeness, domina. Also, you have our condolences for your loss: Surshana must have surely welcod such faithful servants to his peaceful embrace.”
“Of course,” Baroness Zahradnik smiled, “the burdens you must shoulder are many, so I do not mind…and thank you.”
The barest note of lancholy entered her voice, but her expression did not change. Such were the masks that nobles wore. Cedran cleared his throat after a mont of silence.
“Speaking of the things that we must do,” he said, “we should settle matters here before the idiots in the back run us all over.”
“I suppose they have co expecting Demihumans.”
“Just so,” Cedran grinned. “We have no quarrel with the Sorcerous Kingdom, but, all too often, soldiers are like a hamr for want of a nail.”
“I understand,” Baroness Zahradnik said. “In that case, what can I do to help?”
Cedran turned his gaze down the valley. To the north, the land had been cleared, but the distance was too great to make out any real details.
“Hmm…” Cedran rubbed his square jaw, “I am guessing we should begin with an update on the situation here, yes?”
“Of course. Simply put,” she told them, “the Demihuman incursion is no more. The Fiends that appeared to be responsible for driving them east were destroyed or turned away as well. What is left is cleaning up the ss.”
Beaumarchais exchanged glances with Cedran. The only notable Fiend threat that they were aware of was Jaldabaoth. There was an ongoing debate concerning the relationship between the many powerful beings that had appeared in a relatively short ti. Momon had driven away Jaldabaoth in Re-Estize, then moved on to protect the people of E-Rantel after the rise of the Sorcerer King. Then there was the Vampire that Momon had reportedly destroyed, and its companion who was still at large.
Momon had set himself in opposition to Jaldabaoth and had also stood against the Sorcerer King in E-Rantel. If Baroness Zahradnik’s words were to be trusted, the Sorcerous Kingdom had now also set itself in opposition to Jaldabaoth. Was it an alliance of convenience between Momon and the Sorcerer King? At the least, they could rest assured that the Sorcerer King and Jaldabaoth were not on the sa side. These were only his thoughts on the matter, of course – the High Council would co to their own conclusions using the information that was passed on to them.
“Ai, I think the boss might cry when he hears this,” Cedran said. “He had arranged for a training opportunity here.”
“What a coincidence,” Baroness Zahradnik smiled slightly. “My thoughts were just the sa.”
Over the next half hour, Cedran continued with his questions. Beaumarchais shifted uncomfortably at their cordial back and forth, despite understanding that Cedran was mostly just trying to collect as much information as possible. Baroness Zahradnik asked very few questions of her own, and the first she asked was sothing about her people who had gone to the Theocracy. All they could say was that small civilian movents were sothing they were not inford of and that Beaumarchais had noticed nothing amiss on his way into the upper reaches.
Aside from that, her queries seed nothing more than points of polite conversation. There was no sense that she was trying to get anything in return. Did this woman even understand that she was basically being pumped for useful information? Beaumarchais recalled that her father seed the diligent and honourable sort, and her house cooperated with the Scriptures, understanding that the Scriptures fought for humanity. Baron Zahradnik’s daughter, by all appearances, followed in his footsteps.
“On a more personal note, domina,” Cedran said as their conversation wound down, “what is it like living in the Sorcerous Kingdom?”
Beaumarchais glanced over at Cedran worriedly. Attempting to gain information on the state of the Sorcerous Kingdom was all well and good, but dark rumours still lingered with its recent advent. He wondered what the High Council would do if they found their reports to be false and that Humanity was indeed suffering in E-Rantel. Baroness Zahradnik’s reply, however, did not contain even the slightest note of hesitation.
“Things have much improved from when we were a part of Re-Estize,” she said. “Rule of law reigns, and the lands are secure. The people are left in peace, as long as they do not commit any cris. Humanity thrives – the faith of The Four is in slow decline and the lost return to the fold. Speaking of which, we are in dire need of temple staff…”
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