“There are only two things a citizen is required to do. Obey the emperor, and serve the state. That is all Traxia demands.”

- Former Minister Aumer Hespa, Traxian Noble, “Duty and Order: Guide for a Good Citizen”

Munifex Erasmus charged down the hill with the rest of his maniple while the regular legionaries in their cohorts thundered across the main road. Thousands of boots and equipment shook the ground with a ferocious quaking as the armies of Traxia descended upon the lonely fortress. Flaming rocks barrelled across the night sky as hundreds of arrows flew under dim moonlight, magefire raked the length of the fortress wards as countless battle mages bashed their spells against thestructure, lighting up the night in a brilliant flurry of colors.

Under the chaotic cacophony of combat, the war had begun. Through the use of sheer numbers, it was almost a certainty that the first few fortresses would fall, it was only a matter of how many lives would it take. Leading the way would be the assault legions, one in which Erasmus was part of. They were heavily armored, better trained, better equipped and more importantly better paid than the rank and file. In return, they would be the ones whom the empire relied upon to secure critical objectives. The regular legions would serve as the main sponge for defensive fire, giving the assault units room to manoeuvre and scale the fortress walls.

Another round of bolts and arrows were fired from the fortress, the stubborn defenders making a last ditch defence in spite of being surrounded. Hunkering under their shields, Erasmus watched in horror as his centurion beckoned for the men to advance, only for a stray firebolt to slam into his body. He watched as Centurion Hora, a veteran of two campaigns against the Adonari elves, died in agony, his face melting into bone within his plumed helmet as his armor did little to save him.

“Keep moving!” The newly promoted Centurion Lineas bellowed, spurring the men forward once more.

Just like that, the honoured war hero was forgotten as hundreds of boots stepped around his still writhing form, pushing forward under the hail of projectiles that poured into their ranks. The hundred and forty strong maniple had only been in combat for less than five minutes, and already, Erasmus could tell that more than three dozen had already perished. He shuddered to think of the horrific casualties suffered by the regular troopers, but it only steeled his resolve in realising that the slaughter would only stop if the maniple accomplished their objectives.

“Keep going!” Lineas yelled, “For Traxia!”

“For Traxia!” The collective cheer came.

A streak of lighting cut through another handful of men and Erasmus could only fight a gag as the smell of burnt flesh now permeated the air. The maniple surged forwards once more, buoyed by the rapid advance of their compatriot maniples on the flanks. With a roar, the warriors of Traxia moved forward as one, ending up at the bottom of the walls after a gauntlet of fire. From above, Absenstadtian mercenaries hurled firebombs and all manner of weapons down on the attacker, the ensuing inferno from their destructive tactics leaving an acrid almost nauseating smell to linger. Dozens more died in this wave of attacks, the new centurion calling out for engineers to bring up their siege ladders only to be engulfed by the firestorm.

Lineas had disappeared and did not resume command after the next barrage of attacks, his body likely already crushed under the tide of men and armor. Whatever was left of the maniple had to simply merge themselves with other maniples as legionaries had begun scaling the walls. Legionary after legionary fell but still they persisted, the front ranks trying their best to force through to the top of the walls only to be repelled. Erasmus stumbled and fell backward when the man in front of him was flattened by a falling legionary, the two colliding with a horrifying crack as bones broke under the sudden pressure. Another legionary fell when his eye was impaled by a crossbow bolt, the man staggering around and accidentally gripping onto another legionary in a panic just long enough for a stray streak of fire to roast both of them alive. Erasmus held his shield up and felt the flames lick the metal as the two other legionaries screamed their agonising cries.

“For Traxia! First over the wall gets the bounty!” Someone else yelled.

“Huraah!” A few troopers echoed.

Something heavy slammed into the ground beside him and Erasmus scrambled away, flinging his shield aside to gain some quick distance distance. Two legionaries had been partially impaled by a ballista bolt, their pained forms desperately trying to separate themselves to no avail, barely a hand's width away from where he had been cowering.

A brilliant explosion of light temporarily blinded everyone, before a large cheer erupted from the Traxian army. The wards were down. Fires and lighting now struck the walls in equal measure as Traxian battle mages threw what spells they had left into the attack, turning the tide in favor of the assault.

“Hurrah! First over gets an honor from the emperor!” Someone growled from above him.

“For Traxia!” Came another rallying cry that drowned out the first soldier.

As Erasmus picked himself up, he saw the wave of legionaries now having properly made contact atop the walls as more and more heavy assault infantry cut into the Abenstadtians. With a grunt, he forced his body to move forward, to head towards a ladder and grab at the first rung. He didn’t know what was happening anymore, only that those atop the wall continued pushing, meaning that this section was secured, at least. The man above almost scaled the wall when a flurry of bolts were shot their way, one of which managed to be deflected by his armor. The blow however, knocked him off balance and Erasmus saw the fear in his eye as he simply slipped and fell towards the ground below.

“Move! Hurry!” The legionary below him urged, "Move or we'll all die here!"

Nodding, Erasmus steeled his nerves and powered through the last few rungs, hoisting himself over the wall and landing on the battlements with a thud. Atop the walls, bodies lined the battlements as defenders had stood their ground only to be cut down by the legionnaires in close quarters. A few of the legionary assault troops had also fallen in the melee, but comparatively few compared to the defenders and the carnage beyond the walls. In a proper melee, the armor and the training of a legionary would surpass most of their enemies, even Abenstadt's feared mercenary brigades. Like a ravenous wave, the legionaries of the assault elements descended upon the rest of the fortress with a vicious fury, cutting down the defenders that still held their posts.

What the Abenstadt mercenaries lacked in manpower however, they made up for in cheap tricks and traps. Firebolts lit up explosive barrels, sections of stonework simply collapsing, or even concentrated bottles of wind magic to send legionaries flying off the battlements. He had always known that war was a messy affair, that even simple mages could play a big part in battle, but seeing it in action was a different thing. Not only had they devastated his troop, but he cursed command for having most of their own mages pulled away to support the ward breaking process. It was useful, sure. But, to him, it only damned the frontline troops to a magical torrent that had ripped their numbers asunder without their own magical support.

“Let’s go get the bastards!” The legionary who was below him yelled as he clambered over the parapet, rallying a few other legionaries with him.

His words startled Erasmus out of his stupor and he shuffled around only to be horrified by the slick pools of blood that coated battlements and his hands. Wiping off what he could on his sleeve, he moved to join the other legionnaires. The other man charged forward with a few more troopers and they pushed their way towards the keep of the fortress, disappearing into the thick of the melee. Erasmus followed close behind with another handful of troopers that managed to scale the walls and the group managed to thrust their own wedge in the defender’s lines. Steel and death were all he could hear as the clinking of sword and shield were interspersed by the unending screams that echoed throughout the battlefield.

One of his comrades got beheaded by a lucky strike from a halberd, just as more of the defenders fell under the weight of their attack, their bodies crunching underneath the boots of the legionaries. Erasmus tried to steady his panicked breathing as he held the hilt of his short sword tightly in his hand, scanning the melee around him to find an opportunity to be useful. His eyes locked onto one of the defenders who was eyeing up his comrade. Erasmus raised his weapon and roared, charging at the offending mercenary in an attempt to protect his brothers only for the man to suddenly stagger as a spear pierced him from behind. A few other legionaries had pushed through the courtyard of the fortress and had ascended the stairs behind the defenders, mercilessly striking down any that crossed their paths. It was a welcome sight as both groups of legionaries acknowledged each other. But before any greetings could be shared, Erasmus saw the briefest flicker of a bright light, the loudest boom that he had ever heard. Then everything became dark.

One Week Later

“What do you think, forgemaster?” Inquisitor Korvin grinned.

The dwarf beside him sighed and shrugged, trying to hide his interest with a nonchalant tap on the table. Forgemaster Vranis Stonearm was a graying dwarf with beady eyes and his beards tied into two braids that stretched down to his stomach. The portly but muscular dwarf grabbed a pen and scribbled over Korvin’s schematics, making little adjustments here and there.

“Consider me intrigued. But this… this is highly impractical.” Vranis growled.

“But is it possible? Within a… reasonable time frame?”

“Perhaps.” Vranis crossed his arms, “Depends on what’s in it for me.”

“Aside from fame, glory, and the potential restoration of your family to the annuals of the Stonefathers?”

“You know what I mean, black robe.”

“Tch. Fair enough. Inventor’s curiosity then.”

“Elaborate.”

“Consider it… a pet project of sorts. A… I guess you could say, an insurance project. For when things go south.” Korvin smirked.

“I do not like the implications in your choice of words, black robe. Would this considered outright illegal? Don't lie to me, black robe.”

“It would tread the lines. But no. Of that I am almost certain. So no other black robes would come after you for this, at least.”

“Heh.” Vranis grunted before turning back to his own thoughts.

The two then leaned back over the sketch, the modifications made by the forgemaster turning Korvin's design of a square sigil into one more akin to a winged triangle. It was crude, but the basic concepts of rune crafting were in play. Something that had earned Korvin a fair amount of respect from the forgemaster even if it was subpar. At least, enough for the idea to even be considered.

“So let me get this straight. Around fifty of these runes, bonded and inscribed into blades and armor? Do I have it right?”

“Roughly.”

“And all… under the table?”

“Relatively speaking.”

“Heh. Your tone doesn’t exactly reassure me.”

“I would be lying if I said I could guarantee anything.”

"But they will work?"

"Well..."

“So yer essentially offering me nothing besides potential gains… worse, you don't even know if it'll pan out.”

Vranis grumbled something else under his breath and scratched his beard. His furrowed brows evolved into one of intrigue as he traced the schematics with his meaty fingers. He hummed and hawed to himself as he licked his lips, unable to conceal his obvious delight at the schematics presented in front of him. Knew it’d catch his eye, regardless Korvin stifled a grin. He's too proud to let a challenge like this pass him by.

“I take it you’ve heard about the… overlander troubles?” Korvin queried.

“Don’t play coy, you know that we know. What about it? I’m guessing yer about to connect it to why I should do this project?” Vranis looked up, meeting the inquisitor’s gaze.

Korvin tapped the bridge of his nose before he gestured at the document once more. “Think of it this way, forgemaster. Did you hear about the gritty details? About the scale of which things took place between the empire and the duchy?”

“A clash of thousands of men? What's new?”

“And the magics they used.”

“Ones that lit up the night sky, aye?”

“Those exact ones.” Korvin smirked.

There was a moment of silence when the two regarded each other, Vranis looking at the inquisitor warily. Upon noticing that Korvin's expression wasn't changing, the dwarf let out a small whistle, “You’re kidding.” The dwarf looked up with wide eyes.

“I’m not.”

“Ye think, I can just… make fifty odd runes; without being noticed, mind you. Not only that, but to craft them on a scale capable of…”

“Shattering wards or defending against direct application spellcasting, yes.”

“With rune power alone… it’s possible. But seeing your design, I take it you already understand the limitations of our runes in terms of dealing with magics directly?”

“I do.”

Vranis grunted and tilted his head, his hand still on the page, “So I’m guessing you already have a way to counteract that… deficiency?”

Korvin grinned, an amused glint flashing across his face. The inquisitor leaned in conspiratorially and let out a hushed whisper, “In a way, yes.”

Vranis did not reply, but the dwarf did raise a curious eyebrow at the inquisitor.

Korvin pointed to the bottom of his diagram, the ‘base’ of the rune, and the part which served as the foundation to the rest of it to represent a certain magical affinity. A handy tool for the mostly magicless dwarves. Using runemasters, they would craft a physical embodiment of the rune, which then allowed forgemasters to meld the two together, applying the rune’s effects on pieces of arms and gear. The very same process he was trying to kickstart.

“I see you’re not quite satisfied with my explanations so far. Let’s just say this; the main blockage in fully utilising runic magic to combat normal magick is that runes aren’t prepositioned to absorb large concentrations of mana. At least, not unless they are directly crafted for military use. Correct?”

“Aye, and get to the point.” Vranis grunted.

“So in the creation process, the rune must first be imbued in the chosen magical affinity type. What if, theoretically speaking, we are able to… how do I say it… to utilize… to imbue the rune with absorption magic?”

“In theory, it’d work. Wouldn’t be the most effective thing in the world, but if ye equip a spellbreaker or mage hunter with it…” Vranis stroked his chin, “ An’ I’m guessing that ye have a way to make this theory into practice?”

Korvin smiled.

“An’ I’m guessing that since yer the one the one who designed the runes, you’d need me to liaise with a runesmith?” Vranis groaned.

Korvin dipped his head respectfully, “If that would be possible…”

“Hah! Now I get why you’d come to a forge master who’s on their way out. Cheeky git. Still, I have to admit I’m intrigued. So what's the full plan?”

“So you’re on board?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Well…” Korvin stood up straighter, “I suppose we contact who we need to for now to arrange all the supplies and materials we would need. Beyond that, I believe that the Academy goes for fall break next month. So at the end of the month”

“The Academy… the human academy? Yer gonna ask one of them to thelp?” The dwarf drawled out each syllable.

“The one in Arteria, correct. And yes, one of them.”

Vranis let out a small whistle, “Pfft, oh that’s rich. Like striking adamantium with an iron rod, an absolute futile struggle. Yer telling me, not only are we attempting a potentially illegal project that might ruin my clan’s reputation. But, and I can’t emphasize this enough, that we’re too also bringing a human to witness our forging rituals? You must be mad.” He let out a dry chuckle.

“Well… about that…” Korvin sucked in a deep breath.

“Yeah?”

“They’re an… elf… half elf, if that helps.”

"If it helps, he says. That makes it bleedin' worse!" The dwarf muttered angrily before clearing his throat, “Pardon, black robe. So yer telling me, not only are we doing this. I’d have to bear the burden of having an elf, sorry, a half elf, accessing our sacred forges and rune rituals? An elf, as in, one of those pointy eared fucks? And we’re not even near Everlight? Just, an elf? Not some noble or elven forgemaster or whatever they call themselves in their tree hugging fantasies. That of all the people we're trying to smuggle in, it's one of the ones who are least likely to blend in or ever be found near a dwarven settlement?”

Korvin hesitated but nodded, “Well... yeah.”

Vranis burst out into a bellyful laugh before sitting himself down and staring up at the ceiling. “Stonefather help me.”

“Forgemaster?” Korvin tepidly inquired.

The dwarf ignored him.

“Forgemaster Stonearm?”

“I heard you the first time. Dinnae need to shout.”

“My apologies. But…”

“I’m in. I mean it. I'll take on this project.”

“You’re… in?”

“Aye. Ye suddenly hard to hear or something? I recall you being the one who suggested this.”

“I…” For once Korvin was thrown off on how to respond, the inquisitor somewhat unsure of what the forgemaster was expecting of him.

“Wipe that look off your face. If what yer suggesting is truly possible, then by the stones themselves, we’ll find a way to this precious half elf of yours down here.” Vranis grew more serious.

“Well… and a human too, potentially.”

The dwarf paused for a moment, his expression a mask of bewilderment and dejected acceptance. He stayed like that for a few seconds before he just rolled his eyes, “Fine, aye, whatever. We’ll find a way. Ye just make sure everything on the topside is ready. Or by the stones themselves if this is some sick joke, I’ll gut you a new hole, black robe. But aside from that, since we have a month, you'd better be real detailed in telling me what this is about and how we'd get it done. Because if I'm the one on the hook for smuggling an elf and a human into the forges, there better be a damned good explanation why I'm risking exile for all this. If find any of the answers unsatisfactory, I will throw ye out on ye arse in an instant. Then you can kiss this 'insurance' of yours goodbye.”

Korvin hesitated for a second before he bowed in acknowledgment, choosing to keep his thoughts to himself. But under the glint of candlelight, he allowed himself a small smirk of triumph. Step one, done. Onwards to step two.