Stone and Blood: Act 2, Chapter 8

Stone and Blood: Act 2, Chapter 8

Chapter 8

“Are you mocking us, girl?”

“I assure you that my request is entirely genuine, Master Falagrim.”

This damn Human...

She was undoubtedly mocking them.

Just before dawn, Falagrim’s Deepwardens reported that the Undead were sweeping the area around his camp – or at least where they thought the camp was – presumably in an effort to find them. Given the generally poor scouting skills that the Undead possessed, that would likely never happen so Falagrim came out to see what they wanted. What he got was a slap in the face.

“We’re not interested in participating in a market with no profit,” he told the Human from the Sorcerous Kingdom.

“But you can profit in this market,” the Human insisted. “The quality of your craftsmanship is renowned amongst the tribes and you will not lack for customers.”

“There’s no profit to be had so long as you don’t allow us to take slaves as payment. Similarly, your gold means nothing if it can’t be used to purchase slaves.”

“You seem to value things other than slaves. The provisions we just delivered, for instance...”

“While we’re up here, sure, but our people are entirely self-sufficient. We have absolutely no need for food imports.”

“My Mountain Dwarf acquaintances clearly appreciate the quality of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s food exports. They also prize our liquor.”

Falagrim spat to the side in disgust at her characteristically bigoted statement.

“Dark Dwarves aren’t Mountain Dwarves, if you hadn’t noticed. We don’t drink. We could care less about your ‘food quality’. A bit of bread is all we need.”

“...by bread, do you happen to mean dwarven bread?”

He pulled out a chunk of bread from a belt pouch, slapping it onto the boulder between them. The girl started as the boulder shattered. Falagrim sneered at her display of frailty.

“What else would I be talking about?” He stuffed the bread back into its pouch, “Now, unless you’re willing to allow us to exchange our goods for slaves, we have nothing more to discuss.”

“In that case, what about using the Undead as security forces? Surely your people have their fair share of dangers to address?”

“We address those dangers ourselves. Didn’t I already say something about how foolish it is to use other peoples’ Undead for labour? What makes you think using them for security is any better? No matter how cheap you make them, the fact that they’re ultimately under someone else’s control is a dealbreaker.”

The damn girl kept bringing her Undead up as if his answer would somehow change.

“It is unfortunate that we couldn’t come to a mutually beneficial understanding,” the Human said. “But you and your company are always welcome to participate in our markets, should you change your mind.”

The sun would rise underground, first. With nothing more to say, Falagrim and his escort turned and left the Undead checkpoint, taking a roundabout route back to his concealed camp. The air shimmered as he crossed the threshold and he made his way to the central campfire where two grey robes awaited.

“We ready to go?” Falagrim said.

“The preparations are ready, my prince.”

He followed the pair to a rocky outcropping jutting out from the valley slope. Agni and several Merchants were gathered at its base. Falagrim eyed the baggage at the Cleric’s feet.

“Staying for a while?” He asked.

“Since we’re stalled here, it’s a good opportunity to take care of a few additional things. The appearance of this ‘Sorcerous Kingdom’ is concerning. We all saw how powerful Jaldabaoth and his minions were. I should see if there’s any mention of them in the histories and consult with the temples.”

Falagrim grunted in agreement. Given what they had seen, it was evident that the Demon Emperor had been replaced by something far worse.

“What about that Human Noble Necromancer Merchant or whatever she is?”

“She seems young, naive, and idealistic in the most foolish ways possible. Such individuals are easily manipulated.”

“That’s not what I was talking about.”

Agni bent over and picked up the bags against her feet.

“An offshoot, maybe,” she said. “Or a forgotten remnant. A lot of things would make sense if she’s an Imperial Arcanist. They can be everything she’s shown herself to be.”

“So nothing like a resurgence or a distant colony returning to restore their homeland?”

“I doubt it,” Agni said. “If it was anything as substantial as that, they would’ve wasted no time pulling everything back together again. It’s clear that no one in the region has inherited the strength and order of the old empire.”

“Then what about that super Lich idea?”Neew updates at novel/bin(.)com

The Cleric shrugged.

“That was based on a rumour. We haven’t seen anything directly out of her to suggest that it’s true. My best guess is that she’s working for someone and the Undead have been instructed to follow her commands. It’s in line with how she refers to the Undead and keeps trying to convince us to ‘lease’ them.”

Falagrim wondered which one was worse: the return of those insufferable Archelians or the Undead setting up shop nearby. He took one last look around before the grey cloaks completed their ritual and he stepped into the escarpment.

Frigid winds greeted him as he stepped out into a high mountain valley. His attention instantly went to the towering cliff behind him. Nothing could be seen, but he knew that it was there. The cliff itself was the Gate of Hardar, the ‘main entrance’ to the Dwarven Principalities of Khazanar. Fashioned by the greatest artisans of its time, the portal was indistinguishable from the landscape around it and no clue of its existence lingered on the surface. Even the area where they stood was proofed against observation from sources both mystic and mundane.

“Well,” Agni shifted the weight of the baggage over her shoulders, “I’ll be off, then.”

With that, the Cleric disappeared into the stone. As the only one in Falagrim’s company that wasn't an exile, she was the sole individual who could do so. Falagrim crossed his arms and leaned. against the cliff, waiting for one of his contacts to come out. Though there was no sign or sense that they were being observed, there was also no doubt that they were.

Two hours later, a severely-dressed Dwarf came out with a small cadre of guards in adamantite plate so heavily enchanted that they seemed to pulse with dark light. The thick adamantite rings clinching the braids in their beards clinked against one another as they approached.

“Earlier than expected,” the newcomer said. “Come to drop off Aunt Agni?”

“Something like that,” Falagrim replied. “War’s winding down.”

“I can’t get a refund for that equipment, father.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, boy.”

“Then I’ll have our suppliers switch production, as usual.”

“Let your mother handle that.”

His son’s beard shifted as his everpresent frown deepened. Falagrim sent a pointed look at her Gate of Hardar.

“Right,” his son said.

They parted with a grunt and a shared nod. Unlike with most races, trust was no measure of security when it came to information. Dark Dwarves were a psionically gifted race, and a young Dwarf could easily have any fresh information or active thoughts ripped from their minds by passers-by.

Agni didn’t accompany Falagrim just because they needed a company Cleric or to represent his wife’s interests. She was also strong enough to resist any psychic incursion that their enemies could bring to bear, making her ideal for delivering information between them. It was the best way to stay competitive.

With any further actions hinging on his wife’s reply, he settled in for a long wait, leaning against the stone that refused to let him back into his home.

In truth, it was to be expected. A menace of Jaldabaoth’s scale would be expected to last for many years, if not decades. Considering the way that he seemed to operate, the Dragon Lords would not directly act against him, so everyone felt that they would have a long, lucrative relationship with the Demon Emperor.

If only–

“If only our dear prince hadn’t spurned your overtures?” Baerwynn’s lip turned up in a smirk.

“I still don’t think I’m wrong,” Agni muttered. “With our situation as it is, we need a backup plan.”

“You should know the dangers by now,” her sister told her. “The other clans are not as blind as you once believed them to be.”

“What could they even do? None would leave Khazanar to interfere with us and none would risk themselves attacking the citadel. They would weaken themselves to the extent that they would be set upon by the others.”

“You’re not wrong,” Baerwynn replied. “But the appearance of this Sorcerous Kingdom changes things. Nothing has broken our status quo before. Our people have suddenly found themselves on the precipice of chaos.”

The matron of Clan Felhammer folded the parchment and slid it across the desk. Agni’s eyes narrowed as she read over her instructions.

“Falagrim’s going to be spitting acid over this,” she said.

Baerwynn snorted.

“He’ll live. On the bright side, you finally get to try what you’ve always wanted.”

Agni slid off of her seat, stuffing her sister’s missive in a pocket under her armour. Baerwynn returned her attention to her work.

“And what will you do here, sister?” Agni asked.

“The other clans have the initiative here,” Baerwynn answered. “All we can do is keep an ear open to any whispers and prepare our defences for what may come.”

Back outside the citadel, Agni found a different set of guards waiting for her. Of course, her sister’s instructions meant that she couldn’t conduct any research on the Sorcerous Kingdom lest her activities give away more than they intended.

The armoured escort led her back down to the main level where yet another set of guards awaited alongside carts loaded with cages. Each contained a Dark Dwarf, garbed in shoddy rags; their faces tattooed with marks of exile. Passers-by turned their gazes away from the disgraced prisoners, though many took the time to hurl stones and insults in their direction before doing that.

“Let’s move,” Agni said. “I don’t want to waste any more mana on healing than necessary.”

The carts rumbled forward, forming a long line as they crossed the chasm on their way to the Gate of Hardar. They stopped just inside the gate, where the cages were emptied and the prisoners shoved through the stone. Agni squinted in annoyance as she stepped out into the early morning light, nearly tripping over an exile who had lost his footing in the brightness.

“I didn’t expect you until tonight,” Falagrim’s voice came out from the shadows along the cliff face. “What the hell is all of this?”

“Let’s get out of this blasted daylight first,” Agni growled.

She sighed in relief as the grey robes transported them through the stone and back into the shadows of their camp in the Abelion Hills. The prisoners gaped up with uncertain expressions at the unfamiliar surroundings. Several Deepwardens came forward to beat them into line.

“Hold,” Agni said as they raised their whips. “They’re ours.”

The ‘prisoners’ lined themselves up before Falagrim, lowering themselves to a knee before their prince. Each one was an agent of Clan Felhammer assigned to support the company in their new task. Falagrim looked down at the agents, his hands on his hips.

“Can someone tell me what’s going on now?”

In response, Agni produced Baerwynn’s missive, holding it out toward Falagrim. The Dwarf Lord’s expression grew dark as his eyes went back and forth over the page.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“Our patrols are still unable to locate the Dark Dwarven camp,” the army liaison said.

“But didn’t you say you know the general location where they disappeared?” Florine asked.

“That is correct,” the Elder Lich answered. “We suspect that magic or some special ability is being employed to prevent us from discovering the camp’s location.”

“Aren’t the Undead supposed to be immune to that sort of magic?”

“The Undead are immune to mind-affecting spells and abilities, but not all spells and abilities that foil detection and perception fall into that category. This includes many illusion spells, camouflage, and effects that influence navigation and terrain.”

Even when the infantry patrols walked into the locations where the Dark Dwarves seemed to vanish, they only found themselves in an empty span of forest. The idea that spells and abilities could be so effective that they could do that was vexing, to say the least. Magic and special abilities were common elements in popular tales, but they were rarely so mysterious and the protagonists always had some trick to beat them.

“Is there any way we can overcome this?” Florine asked.

“Not within the bounds of your stated parameters,” the Elder Lich answered.

Since things didn’t seem like they were going too well with the Dark Dwarves, Florine didn’t want to make things worse by appearing too intrusive. That limited her options to having patrol routes take them through areas where the Dark Dwarves were suspected to reside. Unfortunately, whatever they were doing was above any chance for casual discovery.

“How strong are these Dark Dwarves, exactly?”

Isoroku’s assessment of the Falagrim’s party as members of a Type A Human civilisation suggested that they shouldn’t have been much different than a group from Re-Estize or Baharuth. How easily they were eluding detection with an entire Merchant company, however, suggested otherwise.

“Not even the Zern know where the Dark Dwarves reside,” Boobeebee said. “They seem to show up at will wherever they wish and vanish just as easily.”

“Only two were strong,” Liolio piped up. “The Dwarf Lord and his female.”

“Hmm...wait,” Florine frowned. “How can you recognise Falagrim as a Dwarf Lord but not me as a Human Lord?”

“A Lord is a Lord,” the Miq replied matter-of-factly.

Florine held in a sigh, turning her attention back to the first of the new Merchant stands she was setting up. It wasn’t very complicated, consisting of a small striped tent with a single long table in front of it. She had ordered a few things delivered from E-Rantel since she decided to create a market in the Dale of Defiance, but working with what she had in the meanwhile helped her to think about what else needed to be done.

It didn’t need to be very complicated, really. All she wanted was for the different tribes to peaceably interact and develop an appreciation for what they had to offer to one another.

...except that was far more complicated than it seemed. She had to keep in mind all of the different races and their potential interactions, and she had no idea what made things work before. Additionally, there were any number of harmful things that might be promoted and the new citizens weren’t well-versed in the Sorcerous Kingdom’s laws.

For the time being, Florine asked the Undead security forces to be considerate of the growing pains that were sure to accompany their work, but she wasn’t sure whether they understood what she was asking. She had a feeling that her life for the next few months would be filled with running around putting out fires as she mediated all of the differences and misunderstandings that cropped up.

I need help...

She couldn’t train that help until she could codify how that help needed to operate, however. All she could do for now was work everything out as she went.

“Lady Gagnier,” the army liaison said. “The Dark Dwarves have reemerged. They are requesting an audience.”

“R-really?”

“It is highly doubtful that the sergeant has misinterpreted their intent.”

“I didn’t mean to cast doubt on the report,” Florine said. “I was just surprised, that’s all. Where are they?”

“At the checkpoint in the northern quadrant of the second security perimeter.”

Florine set her things aside, quickly checking over her appearance before mounting her Soul Eater and riding to the northern checkpoint. There, she found Falagrim with a much larger following than before. The Dwarf Lord stepped forward as she dismounted, his thumbs hooked into his belt.

“We’ll try things your way,” he said. “Where do you want us to set up?”