Stone and Blood: Act 1, Chapter 11

Stone and Blood: Act 1, Chapter 11

Chapter 11

“I’ve been wondering for a while now,” Florine said. “That stockpile we pass by every time we go back and forth from the Upper Reaches...what is it?”

Ludmila glanced over her shoulder at the stockpile in question, which was rapidly receding from view as their wagon made its way South.

“It’s the cargo lot that services Dame Verilyn’s territory,” Ludmila replied. “My village’s old ship is being used to ferry people and goods back and forth from Miss Gran’s village across the river.”

Miss Gran had a highly intriguing story – one that would either terrify people or mystify them. Being acquainted with Dame Verilyn, Florine was of the mind that the imperial scion was in a fascinating situation despite Frost Dragons having an evil reputation. At the bare minimum, Nemel Gran had secured a comfortably safe arrangement where she could pursue her happiness in peace.

“How has she been doing?”

“Going by Nonna’s reports,” Ludmila said, “steadily. If the volume of timber exported by her people is any indication, they should have cleared enough space for a small village by now. At their current rate, however, they won’t be planting any crops until the spring. As for her people, they haven’t caused any major problems yet.”

“...does that mean there have been minor problems?”

Florine looked out her window, where the gaps in the trees occasionally offered a view of the Katze River. The far side showed no signs of activity – only a wall of dense forest.

“It depends on how one rates problems, I suppose,” Ludmila said. “In true imperial fashion, Miss Gran struck out and waged war on all of the nearby Goblin tribes while they were still stirring from their winter routines. Her spring campaign successfully concluded within a month of her arrival.”

Florine leaned closer to the window, looking for any signs of Miss Gran’s conquest. The way that Ludmila described her before was grossly out of line with what she had done. She was supposed to be a quiet and well-bred scion of a minor house.

“This ‘Miss Gran’ sounds like an ambitious Lord,” Dyel said from the seat behind them. “Should my people be preparing for raids from across the river?”

“The Upper Reaches have special bylaws in place to allow for most of the customs of its resident tribes to continue,” Ludmila said. “The land that your people are on is subject to the regular crown laws of the Sorcerous Kingdom, so you won't have to worry about raids.”

“I see...”

Dyel exchanged a look with his mother, who had decided to come along as well. On the seats behind them, Leeda and Deeda pressed their snouts against their respective windows as they stared at the passing scenery. Given the disposition of the Orcs, she wasn’t sure whether the two girls were excited about the new scenery or the prospect that they might witness a battle.

“Out of curiosity, Dyel,” Florine asked, “is that something that your people would prefer to continue doing? Your old lifestyle, I mean.”

“Hmm...I can’t deny that some may miss it,” Dyel said. “But, as strangers in this land, it would probably be a severe intrusion. Though it may not seem that way right now, we Orcs had to be fairly strong to contend with our neighbours. Goblin tribes wouldn’t stand a chance, though a Goblin army would be another thing entirely...this Miss Gran is a Hobgoblin, right?”

“Once you’re settled,” Ludmila smiled, “you should drop by and see her when you have the time.”

She’s doing it again...

Ludmila really did have a sadistic streak in her. It wasn’t enacted with the stereotypical belligerence of cruel individuals – it was tactical, for lack of a better word. Everything was calculated to lure, unbalance and entrap her ‘’opponents’, and she seemed to take great pleasure in successfully doing so despite rarely showing it.

That being said, she generally employed her methods to lead people in the right direction or reveal weaknesses and falsehoods so they might correct them.

“You brought up an interesting point, though,” Ludmila continued. “‘Severe intrusion’ implies that you believe your entry into the local competition would be a bad thing.”

“Bad for them, to be sure,” Dyel replied. “As for us, we wouldn’t know what effects our presence might eventually cause. As a Warden, you should understand what I speak of, so why bring up what is already understood?”

“It’s for Baroness Gagnier’s sake,” Ludmila told him. “She’s been assigned to assist in the administration of the Abelion Hills, so cultivating an understanding of its inhabitants would be to her benefit.”

A long moment passed before Dyel spoke again.

“Forgive me for saying so, but she doesn’t seem like she would do well ruling the Abelion Hills.”

“I’m just helping out,” Florine said. “I have no intention of ‘ruling’ anyone.”

“That only serves to further weaken your position,” Dyel said. “Not only do you already appear weak, but you also lack the will to rule. Everyone will sense that. I’m afraid that the tribes will only see you as an appetising meal that they’re prohibited from partaking of.”

“Strength can’t be the only thing that your people respect.”

“Of course not,” Dyel said. “The world would be a truly savage place if it was. But all of those other things take time and appreciation varies from tribe to tribe. Personal strength, however, is immediately recognised and respected. It is the glade which allows life to flourish under its canopy. Without strength, anything that a people have can be violently taken away.”

“In other words,” Ludmila said, “the weak cannot be trusted as a negotiating party because everything that they say and do depend on things outside of their control. That is simply a reality of the world, and it’s ingrained into the cultures that you’ll find out there.”

“But I’m not working for myself or even my house,” Florine said. “I’m working for the Royal Court. No one can say that the Sorcerous Kingdom is weak.”

“No one is,” Ludmila told her. “The problem is that the tribal Lords will look at you and see a weak Human, not the Sorcerer King. The flow of authority is not something that is instantly recognised, especially since the tribes that you’re dealing with don’t have the same societal constructs as we do. Even that foreign agent that we discovered in Arwintar saw things the same way. What you lack is weight.”

As far as Florine understood things, It was a problem with perception. According to Clara, the root of everything was the existence of Class levels and how they shaped the societies of each race. Humans, who had no Racial Class Levels, naturally formed a society of specialists. That society of specialists quickly ‘advanced’ from their tribal state much faster than tribes of Demihumans and Heteromorphs. A Human society could recover from some calamity and reacquire the framework of job classes that existed before in less than two centuries, giving rise to new kingdoms and empires with all of the progress that came with them.

Demihumans and Heteromorphs, on the other hand, were strong enough to survive as they were and thus it was unnecessary to follow the same route. Their wealth of racial traits and innate abilities allowed them to live comfortably in situations where Humans would simply perish.

As such, culture developed differently. The problems that Dyel foresaw were a result of that culture. A culture rooted in early specialisation created ‘Lords’ who were similarly specialised. Without existential threats in the form of violent neighbours, ‘Human Lords’ transitioned to a civilian role.

Within Human society, this wasn’t a problem as lines of authority were generally understood. Outside of Human society, no such understanding existed. A Noble acting as an ambassador of Re-Estize to the Empire would be recognised as a representative of Re-Estize’s Royal Court. Sending an ambassador under the same premise to a Demihuman tribe, however, was basically sending the tribe a free meal.

“So my first task is to get them to recognise the flow of authority somehow,” Florine said.

“Something like that,” Ludmila said.

“I don’t suppose that I can just tell them that I’m a Human Lord...”

Dyel scoffed.

“That’s not something one can just say. A Lord is a Lord.”

“But I am a Human Lord,” Florine resisted the urge to frown over her shoulder.

“No, you’re not,” Dyel said.

“She is,” Ludmila said.

“...she is?”

“She is. But this only underscores what you’ve been saying. Most Human Lords aren’t recognised as Human Lords because most Human Lords don't measure up by tribal standards. Even claiming that you are would probably offend the other party’s sensibilities. What you are has to speak for itself.”

Florine released a long sigh.

“Maybe I should just resort to ‘diplomancy’.”

“It’s not that silly,” Ludmila said. “Military engineers lay down infrastructure all the time.”

“That may be true,” Alessia replied, “but the tribes here do not have military engineers. They barely have homes.”

And whose fault is that?

Florine eyed the Paladin from the Theocracy. She seemed to be entirely sincere about her statement.

『Does she know?』

『Know? No. I doubt that any citizen of the Theocracy would see it as a bad thing, regardless.』

『That may be true, but she’s here with us, now. I don’t want to think that she would say such an offhandedly hateful thing.』

The reason why the Demihumans of the ‘borderlands’ didn’t have any military engineers or barely even homes was precisely because the Theocracy kept things that way. Every non-Human ‘threat’ within the Theocracy’s sphere of influence was purposely kept in a primitive state. Their sole purpose was to unknowingly promote the Theocracy’s pro-Human narrative by raiding Human lands and violently resisting Human expansion.

Nothing too dangerous was allowed to exist since they were only supposed to remind humanity that the rest of the world was its enemy, so the majority of what people saw around Re-Estize were Goblins, Ogres, the occasional Troll and the odd monster.

They reached the highway construction area an hour later. The sense of ‘adventure’ diminished even further as Florine was confronted by a neatly organised cargo lot with Undead and Human workers going back and forth.

“Keep going west,” Ludmila called out to the Adventurers. “The expedition officially starts the moment we step off the pavement.”

The distant peaks that could be seen from the town now loomed high above them and their path eventually took them past the foresters clearing the way for construction. Eventually, the vegetation grew sparse and the lush valley became a dry gulch littered with shrubs and boulders. Their slope levelled out and Ludmila stopped to scan the surroundings.

“Here we are,” she said. “Your camp for the first few days will be here on top of this pass. It can still go below freezing at night, so I hope you’re all prepared.”

“Shit,” an Adventurer said. “Hey, Howe – I know you bought a few of those heating hoops...”

“What about it?” A stern-looking man nearby replied.

“Let me borrow one.”

“Borrow? That’ll be one silver a night.”

“Son of a, hey, Mag...”

“One silver a night,” a young woman replied.

The Adventurer went around, but everyone commanded the same rate. Ludmila regarded the Adventurers with an unreadable look.

“I believe you all have procedures to follow,” she said. “We’re already late as it is, so I suggest you get started before you freeze.”

“How far should we go?”

“You’re not going anywhere until our camp is set up.”

After the Adventurers dispersed, Ludmila went over to a flat spot on the northern side of the road’s remains.

“This spot should be fine,” Ludmila said. “You’ll have to raise some barriers for the command tent if you want to get out of the wind.”

“We’ll do that,” Themis said as she unslung her pack. “You’re going back to Warden’s Vale after we’re set up, right?”

“Yes, I still have plenty of work to catch up on.”

“I guess it’s just the two of us in charge, then,” Themis said. “I’m so used to Rainbow running things. Hopefully, we don’t screw up.”

“I’m sure the two of you will do fine,” Ludmila smiled. “I’ll be checking in on your progress every day, as well, and you can always Message me if something comes up.”

Ludmila left Themis and Alessia to organise the Adventurers, taking Dyel and his family past the top of the pass. She looked up at the cliffs towering to their north.

“I suppose it still wouldn’t be there after a year,” Ludmila said.

“What are you looking for?” Florine asked.

“Lady Shalltear used a tribe of Gnolls to paint the cliffs above us,” Ludmila answered. “There’s no sign of what happened, now.”

Dyel looked up as well.

“Lady Shalltear...you mean the Vampire that was waiting for us on the other side of the hole in the air?”

“If she was garbed in a black dress, then yes. Lady Shalltear is my liege and a direct vassal of His Majesty the Sorcerer King. In the Sorcerous Kingdom, she serves as the Minister of Transportation.”

“I’m afraid a few of those terms were unfamiliar to me...”

“We have plenty of time to cover everything you need to know,” Ludmila said. “I’ll try not to make you faint too many times.”

They continued westward, where the gradually steepening incline of the road eventually presented them with the view of a vast grassland. The terrain was distinctly different from the rolling fields in the Duchy of E-Rantel, seeming far more arid beyond the banks of the river below.

“This is the place,” Ludmila said. “Where I encountered an Orc that claimed to be Qrs Gan Zu.”

Dyel, Rholh, Leeda, and Deeda walked around as if they could trace the steps of their Lord. Florine and Ludmila stood silently by.

“What was he like when you met him?” Rholh asked.

“Aggressive,” Ludmila answered. “Resolute. He was a Lord fighting for the survival of his people. In my inexperience, I didn’t recognise that right up until the moment that he attacked, and in my experiences since then, I haven’t yet met another Lord like him.”

“I see,” Rholh said quietly. “So he was unbroken even after everything that happened. That gives me hope we will be able to track him down someday.”

“Maybe I can help when the time comes,” Ludmila said. “Until then, I will do what I can to care for his people.”

“So you have shown,” the Orc matron nodded. “We have only recently met, but we can also only trust that you will continue to do so.”

What you are has to speak for itself.

Amongst most Human Nobles, at least, such a notion was foolish. Words came before anything else; impressions built on pretence and custom. Yet, Ludmila did it as naturally as breathing and those around her seemed to just as naturally reciprocate her actions.

Florine wasn’t Ludmila, nor was she even a martial Noble...but she would have to figure out how to achieve the same results in her own way.