Before the Storm: Act 1, Chapter 8

Before the Storm: Act 1, Chapter 8

Chapter 8

13th Day, Upper Fire Month, 1 CE

“I don’t see anything different...”

“The entire border is like this, esteemed brother,” Rangobart said. “Didn’t your vaunted information network mention as much?”

Rangobart’s brother didn’t dignify his sarcasm with a reply, but Rangobart was certain it was the case. About a year and a half had passed since the Battle of Katze Plains and the Empire’s spies – dispatched by its Merchants, aristocratic factions, and the imperial government – had long infiltrated the Sorcerous Kingdom. There were even spies from the Temples if he hadn’t misheard. Depending on who they went to, however, the intelligence reports differed somewhat.

Imperial Patrols went on as usual, keeping an eye out for tribal raids and monstrous threats from the frontier. Imperial Intelligence did what it could with its meagre numbers and the gist of its reports – at least as far as the army was aware – was that ‘major threats’ abounded in the Sorcerous Kingdom, but there wasn’t anything that they hadn’t seen already.

The Temples, being the Temples, looked into the same thing. The Undead that concerned them were the same military threats that Imperial Intelligence was sent to take a look at, so, when the Temples sent an endless stream of petitions to the Court Council upon learning what was across the border, the Imperial Administration found the information that the Temples shared with them matched what their own spies reported. However, as the Temples implored the Empire to end its immoral association with the kingdom of darkness next door, they framed things in such dire terms that one might think that they were talking about something else.

Indeed, the Temples told everyone they could. The Second Army Group was informed just in case the Empire ‘hid the truth’ from them. Decrying the Sorcerous Kingdom as the blackest evil the world has ever known was a daily message delivered at every cathedral, parish, and temple school.

At a certain point, Rangobart grew so concerned about the Temples’ activism that he asked a Death Cavalier what they thought about their public awareness campaign. It gave the matter some thought, replied that it was ‘flattering’, and said that it would be nice if everyone feared them just as much. Rangobart could only be thankful that the Temples never considered interacting with the Death-series Servitors.

In hindsight, the forced integration of the Undead with the Second Army Group served as a preemptive counter to the Temples’ activities on top of everything else. The Priests could warn the people of the evils of the Undead as much as they wanted, but those very same Undead were seen by the citizens every day participating in security patrols. The tactic only went so far, however, as faith and reason weren’t always in alignment.

A crack in the pavement nearly bounced Rangobart out of his seat. Armando let out a worried sound and his bodyguards tensed. Beyond the carriage window, the ubiquitous imperial landscape of crops, pastures, and copses continued uninterrupted.

“Just what were you expecting, esteemed brother?”

“Oh, you know. Black clouds. Carrion birds. Fields of bodies impaled on spikes. It is a kingdom of darkness, after all.”

“We haven’t crossed into that ‘kingdom of darkness’ yet,” Rangobart told Arlandor. “Just what have your spies been telling you?”

“There are several significant areas of concern,” Arlandor replied.

“Such as...?”

“Hmm...the most recent thing that’s come to our attention is a program of forced relocations. The poor people are being ousted from land that they’ve lived on for generations’.”

“Is it something like what happened shortly after the annexation of E-Rantel? With the pauper’s quarter being razed to the ground and its inhabitants relocated onto abandoned farmland along the imperial frontier?”

It was the first reported injustice that came from the Sorcerous Kingdom, and those in power saw it as a ploy to populate the border and make it seem like nothing was amiss. When he had asked Baroness Zahradnik about it, she confirmed that the quarter had indeed been levelled and repurposed into a ‘Demihuman Quarter’. That information didn’t sit well with the Empire at all and the Temples only used it as further evidence of the atrocities carried out by the Sorcerer King and his legions of darkness.

“No, this is something entirely new,” Arlandor said. “They’re uprooting tenants from their land in the name of ‘reorganisation’. The poor people have little choice but to comply, else they’d have their souls enslaved for eternity by the Undead.”

“It sounds like the Temples have filled your head with nonsense.”

“Nonsense? The Temples are the foremost experts on the Undead!”

“You people have been squeezing Miss Gran for information for the last two weeks,” Rangobart noted. “Does anything about your interactions with her suggest that the Sorcerous Kingdom is a land rife with injustice and suffering?”

“She’s obviously a minion of some sort,” Arlandor replied. “Picking out the truth behind her words was admittedly a challenge, but I believe I have the right of things.”

Rangobart turned his attention back to the window. There was little point in arguing when they were so close to the border. They would soon see what was going on for themselves.

A few minutes later, the carriage bounced again and went silent. He frowned at the strange sensation that filled the cabin.

“We’ve crossed over into the Sorcerous Kingdom,” he said.

“How do you know that?” His brother looked out of the window, “Nothing’s changed.”

“Look down, esteemed brother.”

Arlandor glanced at the cabin floor, then half-rose to look out of the window. The reason for the silence was not because they had stopped, but because the road they were travelling on had changed.

“What sorcery is this?”

“It’s dwarven stonework,” Rangobart said. “The Mountain Dwarves fixed up their old road coming down to Oestestadt and it looks just like this.”

“Preposterous,” Arlandor sniffed. “The Empire is supposed to have the best infrastructure in the world! This was a part of Re-Estize just last year, wasn’t it? That damned Bloody Emperor has squandered so much of our tax revenues on the Imperial Army and all of that magical nonsense that we’ve fallen behind! What a travesty.”

He could imagine the same discussion happening in every one of the delegation’s carriages. For better or worse, Nobles were proud of their land and competitive when it came to matters of prestige. Rangobart would have felt the same way had he still considered himself an agent of House Roberbad, but, now that he was the lord of an undeveloped wilderness of questionable naming, pretending to compete would be an embarassingly laughable effort.

An hour later, a large walled town near one of the old towers bracketing the highway appeared on the horizon. He couldn’t recall there being a town on the maps that he had last seen of the area. Rangobart examined its blocky architecture as they turned off the highway and slowed to a stop. In a word, the fortifications looked very solid. Everything was cut from dark grey granite in the same seamless fashion as the pavement of the highway. It was as if someone had somehow fashioned everything out of a single piece of perfect stone at a scale that wouldn’t be out of place for a major city.

The parapets crested at over ten metres and every tower was half again that height. Here and there, he could see the heads and shoulders of a Death Knight as it made its rounds atop the wall.

“You’d think they’re preparing to attack the Empire,” Armando said.

“I’m reasonably certain that the Sorcerous Kingdom doesn’t require a forward base to launch assaults against the Empire with, esteemed brother.”

“Then why would anyone go through so much effort and expenditure to build this?”

“Why don’t you ask once we arrive at our destination? I’m sure our hosts will be more than happy to provide an answer.”

“Our hosts, huh...” Arlanro murmured. “That part just makes it even more confusing. They’re noblewomen, right? Bereaved widows and daughters who were supposed to be marrying into other houses. Why would someone like that build something like this? Wouldn’t it be more appropriate for her to create a garden? Or perhaps the Sorcerous Kingdom mandates the construction of these joyless-looking façades.”

The carriage darkened as they entered the town gate, which fed into a cavernous tunnel over thirty metres in length. It was a bit concerning that a town in the unfathomably powerful Sorcerous Kingdom would need walls so thick. When daylight returned, they were greeted by another strange sight.

“It looks like she created a garden, after all,” Rangobart said. “A walled garden.”

“Is the entire town a solarium?” Arlandor breathed.

Rangobart twisted his neck to look up at the sky. As his brother implied, the town had a ceiling fashioned from panes of glass. The streets were paved in the same manner as the highway, but, unlike most towns that only had the occasional tree in a courtyard and weeds struggling to grow on their beaten roads, care had been taken to ensure that there was greenery wherever one looked.

“Where did she get all of the iron?” Rangobart eyed the delicate framework supporting the glass, “You could probably arm the entire Imperial Army twice over with this.”

“It stinks of a trap,” Arlando said.

“A trap?” Rangobart frowned.

“Of cou–”

“Rangobart,” Arlandor’s voice came from behind him, “who is this absolutely captivating young lady?”

Oh, sure, now you come out...

After Rangobart introduced Arlandor to the Countess, his brother took over the conversation. That, in turn, didn’t last long as their father appeared with several other Nobles. Arlandor obligingly introduced the Countess to them, which took a good fifteen minutes.

“This town is quite the marvel, Countess Wagner,” Count Roberbad said. “I don’t recall its existence on any of our most recent maps.”

“Zwillingstürme was chartered not long after the official establishment of the Sorcerous Kingdom, Lord Roberbad.”

“Zwillingstürme...? Ah, you named it after the old towers straddling the highway. Now that you mention it, you do bear the features of the classical eastern beauty...”

“You are most generous to say so, my lord,” Lady Wagner nodded. “My family is indeed from the imperial east, north of the Wyvernmark. They settled here before...”

“Of course,” Rangobart’s father nodded in understanding. “Still, it is good to see strong imperial stock here. Might I ask what our itinerary is now that we’ve arrived, my lady? It’s nearly nightfall and the arrangements that we received didn’t list our accommodations for this evening.”

Countess Wagner tilted her head curiously.

“Is that so? It should have listed Corelyn Castle as my lord’s destination once your party arrived at the border...”

“...yes, that is correct,” a hint of confusion put a slight tremor in Count Roberbad’s voice. “If I’m not mistaken, however, Corelyn Castle is just past Corelyn Harbour, which is two or three days distant.”

“Ah...” Countess Wagner nodded, then lowered her head apologetically, “Forgive us for our presumption. The journey from Arwintar must have been long and tiring, so we thought to expedite your trip. The carriages you see before you will convey everyone the rest of the way.”

Count Roberbad exchanged a look with his allies.

“Are they so large because they have beds in them?” One of the other Counts asked, “I admit the quality of the road is quite extraordinary – I didn’t feel a single bump between here and the border.”

“There are no beds, my lord,” Lady Wagner replied. “One of the most notable benefits of our new infrastructure is that they allow vehicles designed for them to travel at great speeds with much heavier loads. We will arrive at Castle Corelyn in less than two hours.”

“Less than two hours? Are these carriages some sort of magical device?”

“They come with a number of enchantments. You will be able to travel with a sense of luxury rarely experienced outside of the Sorcerous Kingdom. Unless you end up like the Imperial House’s party, of course.”

Everyone’s expression sharpened at the last.

“The Imperial House?” Count Roberbad said, “We’re aware that the Dukes came ahead of us, but...what happened?”

Lady Wagner shifted in place with a slightly scandalised look.

“They...they fled.”

“Fled?”

“Yes, my lord. They couldn’t bear the terror you see around you and returned to Arwintar.”

Count Roberbad scanned the surroundings with a furrow on his brow. His cheek twitched once before he and the other Nobles burst out into laughter.

“Fled? Shouldn’t Gushmond have numbered amongst them? Didn’t one of their daughters write that absurdly huge treatise about magocrats?”

“Indeed, my lord,” Lady Wagner said, “In fact, she and one of her companions – who is also a mage – were the only ones able to tolerate the journey to its conclusion.”

The Countess pressed the tips of her fingers lightly together, gazing down at them with an uncertain look. Rangobart’s father tugged on the lapels of his coat.

“Rest assured, Countess Wagner,” he said. “My party and I are made of sterner stuff than that.”

“Oh, wonderful!” The Countess beamed, “In that case, how would my lords like to be organised? Each carriage can convey a dozen passengers, though I would personally recommend six. We have enough vehicles that even your attendants may enjoy a ride inside.”

“Hmm, in that case...”

Each house took two carriages – one for its attendants – presumably to make last-minute preparations for their arrival. Rangobart’s father, of course, insisted that Countess Wagner ride with them. A pleasant coolness washed over them when they entered the spacious cabin.

“This carriage has a temperature control item,” Rangobart examined the lacquered wooden interior.

“That’s right,” Lady Wagner said. “The temperature in here will remain consistent through every season.”

In addition to the temperature control, the interior was magically illuminated and no expense was spared for the furnishings. His family voiced their appreciation of what they saw and felt as they seated themselves around an oval table that had plenty of legroom beneath.

“This is very nearly a room in itself,” Arlando said. “Work around the fief would be extraordinarily comfortable with one of these carriages.”

“There are plenty of features to enjoy,” Countess Wagner flashed a brilliant smile as she gestured with a slender hand. “For instance, the cupboards under the seats are all set to various temperatures and enchanted with preservation magic. You can store several days’ worth of cold drinks and hot meals in them. The stowage overhead is perfect for storing office supplies and you can access the rear baggage by folding down the seats here.”

The door shut behind them. Count Roberbad ran his hands appreciatively over the polished surface of the cedar table.

“I’d rather work and sleep in here than stay overnight in a village chief’s room,” he said. “What about these windows? I see that they’re glass on the inside, but how do you open the shutters?”

Rangobart was pressed slightly into his seat as the carriage started to roll forward. There weren’t horses or any other beasts hitched to them, so he wondered how they were moving.

“There’s a panel flush with the door that you can open to access a hand crank,” Lady Wagner said.

“...here?” Rangobart’s father leaned forward, feeling arond with his hand.

“Closer to the centre.”

“I can’t...ah, how clever! This design is quite elegant.”

Rangobart watched, bemused, as his father transformed into any other man as he focused on figuring out the device. A few minutes later, he rolled down the metal shutters with a self-satisfied expression, revealing the pastoral landscape of E-Rantel going by as the carriage hurtled down the highway.

“By the gods,” Count Roberbad breathed, “we’re going as fast as you claimed! I can’t feel the road under us at all – this vehicle may as well be floating on air.”

“It’s just one of the many innovations that the Sorcerous Kingdom has to offer, my lord,” Lady Wagner smiled. “You’ll surely be amazed at everything we’ve prepared for you.”

There was something else behind the young Countess’ smile, but Rangobart couldn’t figure out what it was. At least his family’s apprehension over their visit to the Sorcerous Kingdom had vanished as if it had never existed in the first place.