Chapter 6

While a bit scrawny, the nine-metre-long Juvenile Green proved far too much for Pinecone and Pebble to eat in one sitting. They elected to share most of its meat with their host, but it wasn’t nearly enough to feed all of the feast’s attendees. As a result, the carcass was divided between several tables and picked clean within the first few minutes of the meal.

Bloody platters piled high with cuts of freshly slaughtered Nug were served shortly after. They weren’t sure what to do with Vltava, so they just dumped a bunch of twigs and leaves in front of him. Ilyshn’ish feared that he might take the treatment as an insult, but he merely sniffed at the haphazard offering before wandering off to harass the local mystics.

“The herds around Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr are being culled due to the flooding,” Chimali asked from the end of Vogroth’s table, “are the tribes around Ki’ra doing the same?”

“They are,” Vogroth answered, “though I imagine it’s not nearly as severe as the lower parts of the basin. Only a fifth of our land has been affected by the flooding, mostly around the lake and along the major rivers.”

Being short a fifth of food production still seemed like a pretty big deal. Were the Beastmen capable of tolerating such a shortage?

“Are the warrior clans aware of the mounting issues in the west?” Chimali continued pursuing his line of questioning.

“Of course,” Vogroth replied, “but knowing about a problem doesn’t mean we can do anything about it. The only real option that we have available to alleviate the issue is sending recruits from the cities to the front lines. I believe that the civilian clans are well aware of this.”

And they’ve gone to Xoc, in turn.

The recruitment pitch that she had heard in Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr wasn’t very compelling. It was a mostly emotional plea to the people’s pride as Beastmen, which was woefully out of touch in the city. Vogroth might have felt that choosing between starvation and war was an obvious decision, but most of the city folk didn’t identify as warriors. The security of Rol’en’gorek was supposed to be the warrior clans’ responsibility and most of the citizens were certain that they could never become as powerful as one of their members.

“What about the war itself?” Ilyshn’ish asked, “How has it affected the lives of your people?”

“The rainy season has always been the time when the Jorgulans advance along the frontier,” Vogroth answered. “We’ve mostly treated it as an extended offensive on the Jorgulans’ part.”

“But the border fortresses have been lost,” Chimali said. “Isn’t that bad?”

Vogroth looked down the table at Chimali, as if considering whether he should answer his question at all. The Ocelo Merchant had clearly reached the limit of what he was allowed to ask.

“The fortresses have been occupied by the Jorgulans in the past,” Vogroth finally said. “Our mystics advise us on the weather and we withdraw our troops during extended wet seasons. It isn’t as if those fortresses were lost with all of their defenders.”

“I see,” Chimali breathed a sigh of relief. “Forgive me for my ignorance.”

“Your current situation is more than irregular, however,” Ilyshn’ish said. “Speaking of which, my companions and I are investigating several things, including this mysterious flooding. The dry season in Rol’en’gorek is evidently well underway, so we can only assume that something further along is causing it.”

“It’s snowing in the Worldspine,” Vogroth told her. “So much so that the clans along the northern frontier report that they can see the glaciers advance day by day. The Con have been fighting a seemingly endless migration of mountain tribes driven out by the never-ending blizzards smothering the high peaks and valleys.”

So much for the Con being untouched by all of this.

“Have you investigated the cause?”

“The cause? I just said that it’s snowing, didn’t I?”

Ilyshn’ish exchanged a glance with the Krkonoše. It sounded like they would have to take a look for themselves.

“Just to be certain,” Ilyshn’ish said, “there wouldn’t happen to be fighting in the south, is there?”

“Thankfully not,” Vogroth let out a good-humoured chuff. “And while our situation may seem dire to those unfamiliar with life in the east, it’s essentially the same fight as always. No new adversary has reared its ugly head aside from the weather in the north, which is beyond our borders. It isn’t as if the Jorgulans have grown in number, nor have the northern tribes grown any stronger. Once the weather returns to normal, we’ll push them right back out.”

“How are your forces faring in the meantime?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

“They’re doing quite well, all things considered. We’re enjoying shorter supply lines and the exact opposite is happening with the Jorgulans. Every time they attack, it’s like they’re sending us a feast…at least if the attacking party is edible. For the time being, we fight defensively, exacting a cost against the Jorgulans that they cannot possibly pay for long.”

But it’s not for the Jorgulans to decide. Not the tribes you’re fighting, anyway.

Their masters would decide what could or couldn’t be paid. The lives of a hundred or even a thousand tribes was a negligible price to advance their draconic prestige.

“If that’s the case,” Chimali said, “what was the purpose of the recruitment that we witnessed? My Merchant peers have also noted that exports to the east have fallen off.”

“The purpose was to recruit warriors,” Vogroth said matter-of-factly. “While we are facing the same enemies, we are facing a different type of conflict. The Jorgulans fully intend to occupy our territories and this results in a higher intensity conflict than usual. That means more warriors than anticipated are required to defend Rol’en’gorek and the reserves that we would usually rely upon are already committed elsewhere.”

“Il-Enxoc mentioned that it may take generations for the fighting to reach Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr even if things went badly for us…”

“Your lord knows what she is talking about,” Vogroth agreed. “You would do well to put more trust in her judgement.”

“So you mean that her decision to send material support to Ki’ra is also correct?”

“It is, and it shows that she has a sound grasp of our strategic situation. She understands what is needed and what she can do to help. This will serve her well when the High Council reviews her actions; her having civilian associates who try to involve themselves in matters beyond their purview will not.”

Even when Chimali attempted to retreat behind the shield of authority that he thought he could rely on, Vogroth made sure to hunt him down and give him a verbal mangling. It seemed that the members of nar Ki’ra were well accustomed to dealing with civilian types – at least in the sense of maintaining their absolute hold on authority.

Except Vogroth has made a fatal mistake.

After regaling her nar Ki’ra hosts with a few well-received tales of the Empire’s campaign in the blister – they didn’t seem to care that it involved Humans – Ilyshn’ish retired to sniff around her accommodations. The wooden structure was comfortably large by local standards, offering a view of the nearby mountain ranges and the lake nestled between them. Unlike Human cities, the entire landscape was lightless since the land’s inhabitants possessed Darkvision.

Now there’s a weak point if there ever was one. I wonder if the Greens have realised it yet…

Ironically, an illuminated Human city had a far better chance of detecting night raids conducted by Dragons than the Beastman city arrayed before her. Dragons could see as well at night as they could during the day, while the innate Darkvision of Demihumans was usually limited to two dozen metres or so. A shrewd and observant Green could probably identify locations without Beastman hunters nearby and fly in undetected to wreak all sorts of havoc.

The sounds of the feast nearby ended and Chimali appeared a few minutes later. He came up to her while carefully examining their surroundings. After a moment, he turned away from the vista – he probably couldn’t see any of it, after all.

“Those songs that you shared at the feast,” he said. “They’re new to me.”

“They should be,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “I haven’t performed them in Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr.”

“Are they true?”

“Yes. The events that I recounted happened less than a year ago, several hundred kilometres north of the Draconic Kingdom.”

Much like when she had spoken of the Blister Campaign in other parts of Rol’en’gorek, she had kept her own contributions out of it. She didn’t want to suddenly be co-opted into the war with the Greens here. The younger Dragons weren’t any threat to her, but she didn’t feel like having their patriarch teleport behind her after he decided that she was an unwelcome element in his brood’s little game.

“Well, nar Ki’ra certainly enjoyed your performances,” Chimali said. “I guess Dragons are a menace wherever you go.”

“Mostly to people who can’t see any way other than their own,” Ilyshn’ish said. “There are plenty of Dragons who can’t help but meddle in the affairs of others, but most usually mind their own business. Many mortals even thrive under Draconic rule.”

“That’s difficult to imagine.”

“Is it? The Great Lut is ruled by Blue Dragons. Rol’en’gorek has been trading with the Lut for generations.”

Chimali paced across the floor with a disgruntled huff.

“And they endeavour to keep my people primitive.”

“What of it? Your people aren’t subjects of the Storm Dragon Lord.”

“Is there a Dragon Lord over these Green Dragons attacking us?”

“If there is, it won’t matter much in the context of this current invasion. The Jorgulan Commonwealth would presumably be the domain of this Dragon Lord, and he wouldn’t act outside of his domain without good reason.”

“Is the death of his progeny not a good enough reason?”

Ilyshn’ish snorted.

“Of course not. This game that they’re playing will only end after the strongest few stand atop a mountain of their siblings’ corpses. Those who perish aren’t worthy of existence. At any rate, did you enjoy the feast?”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“It was very exclusive,” Chimali replied. “I had hoped there would be a few people there to discuss my end of things with, but it was nothing but warriors and mystics. I’ll have to go down into the city in the morning to see what I can figure out.”

“What about Vogroth? He gave you quite the dressing down.”

Chimali looked over his shoulder in the direction of the clanhold’s central complex before turning his attention back to their conversation.

“Believe it or not,” he said, “I was more wary of him before that moment. When he tried to overpower me, his ignorance was made plain at the same time. He may have done Ocelo Pa’chan a favour in the past, but he doesn’t understand what we are. Vogroth only sees what he wants to see and he throws his weight around as one might expect. As far as lords go, he is nothing compared to il-Enxoc.”

“You still have to work with him,” Ilyshn’ish noted.

“And I will,” Chimali replied. “At least for a bit. Once Vogroth is satisfied that he has everything under control, I suspect that I’ll only be seeing nar Ki’ra’s associates down in the city. Hopefully, they won’t all be warriors.”

In other words, things had mostly gone according to plan for Chimali, though it was a rougher experience than anticipated. All he had to do now was stay out of trouble.

The following morning, Vogroth invited Ilyshn’ish – and only her – to join him for an early meal. There was no feast awaiting her this time: only a sour-looking Nar sitting beside Vogroth.

“Ah, Winter Moon,” Vogroth said. “I’m glad you could make it. This is my brother, Ghroklor. He’s the fourth son of my father’s second wife. He just returned from the Jorgulan Front with one of our armies.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ghroklor nar Ki’ra,” Ilyshn’ish inclined her head.

“My brother tells me that you’re investigating the cause behind our flooding problems,” Ghroklor said.

“Among other things,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “The flooding started well after we arrived in Rol’en’gorek and we couldn’t help but be curious about why it was happening. A disaster of this magnitude will affect a far greater region than just your jungle home.”

“He also said that you have extensive knowledge about fighting Green Dragons.”

“I possess a handful of tales involving battles with Green Dragons. Whether it qualifies as ‘extensive knowledge’ is another matter.”

“I would hear these tales, Winter Moon,” Ghroklor said. “In exchange, I can accompany you on your investigation. In this day and age, you will find that the authority or nar Ki’ra will save you a lot of time and trouble.”

Except we can just fly over all of that time and trouble…

Ilyshn’ish supposed it would come in handy if they wanted to quietly handle any uncooperative locals squatting in some ruins. She could probably glean plenty of information about the ongoing conflict and Rol’en’gorek in general from Ghroklor, as well.

“Your proposal seems fair,” Ilyshn’ish said. “But is it alright with you? You’ve just come back from the battlefront.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ghroklor replied. “One of my younger sisters will be leading the army in the coming season and I would rather be doing something out there than being at home yelling at recruits from the cities.”

“Before you run off on one of grandfather’s adventures,” Vogroth said, “you have an army to finish situating.”

“It’s just the Worldspine, not the Swarmlands.”

“I still can’t believe you liked the stories of that place over that of the Confederacy.”

“The Confederacy sounded boring. ‘Like us, but better’. The Swarmlands were truly alien and had plenty of action besides.”

The two brothers continued to exchange banter as they descended from the clanhold. Ilyshn’ish silently padded after them, content with trying to decipher their discussion. They were far more aware of the world beyond Rol’en’gorek than the average denizen of the jungle, and it was thanks to a common ancestor who had become what many tribes called a ‘Traveller’. Their conversation eventually dried up, however, and they moved on to address more immediate matters.

“So,” Vogroth asked as they made their way through the middle levels of the city, “did the Jorgulans come up with any interesting surprises?”

“They’re sticking to their usual tactics,” Ghroklor grumbled. “And I see no reason why they wouldn’t. We need more warriors on the front lines to guard the waterways or we’ll be forced out of our positions by the Jorgulans’ incessant flanking manoeuvres.”

“We’re moving people as fast as our logistics allow,” Vogroth said. “Speaking of which, how did the first batch of city recruits work out?”

Ghroklor made a derisive noise, flicking his ear in annoyance.

“Pretty much as expected. They cried, pissed, and shit themselves the moment we entered actual combat. Whenever a Dragon appeared…ugh, don’t even get me started. It’s outrageous how soft they are – are they even Beastmen?”

“There have been suggestions to start them on domestic patrol duties…”

“Forget that. It’s best to get this ridiculousness over with as quickly as possible. Our warbands need people that they can trust on the battlefield. We have neither the time nor the resources to coddle those mewling cubs.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Ilyshn’ish said, “are you suffering many losses due to this Jorgulan offensive?”

“Casualties, yes,” Ghroklor replied. “Fatalities, no. If I were to compare it to the last time I was out there, we’re actually doing better.”

“That was a highly irregular tour of duty, brother,” Vogroth noted.

“No doubt. There was so much rain that we were nearly swept into the Commonwealth.”

“Do you mean to say that you’ve been facing irregular weather since then?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

“It has nothing to do with the current flooding if that’s what you’re asking,” Ghroklor answered. “The weather returned to normal a week or so after we withdrew.”

They’re quick to discount anomalies. Is it carelessness? No, they’re like the imperials in more ways than one.

If it wasn’t real, then it wasn’t worth thinking about. Generally speaking, Ilyshn’ish found that people didn’t give any consideration to things that they didn’t know existed.

The two brothers eventually arrived in a section of the city that looked purpose-built to house a large number of warriors. Indeed, the entire area was abuzz with activity, with warriors and civilians alike rushing about moving one load or the other. Along one of the roads coming in from the waterfront, Ilyshn’ish spotted Chimali and the other members of ocelo Pa’chan’s party gathered around their delivered equipment.

“This must be the shipment that you mentioned,” Ghroklor said.

“Yes, brother,” Vogroth replied. “The new lord of ocelo Pa’chan is not only a solid strategist, but also a shrewd politician. Since more support is inbound, we should distribute this batch of equipment to your warriors here.”

Ghroklor called for his warbands to assemble, leaving Chimali, his staff, and a handful of locals scrambling to make what preparations they could for the presentation. Ilyshn’ish watched the proceedings curiously. She had heard of similar ceremonies being held in the Empire, but she had never witnessed one before.

Unsure where she should be standing, Ilyshn’ish went over to where Chimali and his staff were standing in the shadows of a tree to the side.

“I see you managed to find your way around,” Ilyshn’ish said.

“And it’s a good thing that I did,” Chimali replied. “I didn’t think that nar Ki’ra would be so aloof from the city’s everyday affairs.”

“By Enmatzli’s accounts,” Ilyshn’ish noted, “ocelo Atazli is the same way.”

“I guess. It’s still odd how much their rule differs from that of il-Enxoc.”

It was somewhat strange. She had observed various warrior lords on her travels and most of them were more like Xoc than they were like Vogroth and Ghroklor.

“Maybe they aren’t lords at all,” Ilyshn’ish mused.

“Can you tell?”

“Well, physically speaking, they are more the size of the Nar warriors that you see around here. They haven’t claimed to be lords, either. To me, it feels like they’re warriors trying to run things in their lord’s absence.”

From what she had seen, Beastman scions like Vogroth and Ghroklor were treated as warriors possessing a strong pedigree rather than lords in their own right. That should have still cultivated their leadership skills, however, so it didn’t explain what she was seeing now. Maybe her mistress would have a better idea of what was going on.

“Have the civilians you’ve been working with mentioned anything concerning their behaviour?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

“They’ve mostly spoken in their defence,” Chimali answered. “They were pretty energetic about it too, so I didn’t want to push things too far. The ruling elite are well-loved here, despite some of the ridiculous things I’ve seen.”

On the makeshift stage in the mustering field, Ghroklor called up the leaders of his army’s warbands, who in turn called up the warriors who received their new sets of leather armour. Most of the recipients were chosen for ‘exceptional feats of valour’, which seemed to translate into killing more enemies than usual. It wasn’t much different from how the general population of other races tended to gauge the value of a combatant.

For the warriors’ part, they were all clearly enthused. Those who had received a set of armour couldn’t hold out for long until they tried equipping their new items while everyone else crowded around them. Rather than their envy fuelling resentment, it only seemed to generate bouts of bragging and pledges about how they would do just as well – if not better – the next time they went to the front so they could receive fine armour of their own.

It’s not even enchanted, for crying out loud. Do they even know who gave it to them?

“Ocelo Pa’chan hasn’t been mentioned so far in this…ceremony,” Ilyshn’ish said. “Wouldn’t it be to your clan’s benefit if these people know where their prizes are coming from?”

“I’m not sure if that’s normal or not,” Chimali replied, then paused to think for a moment. “It probably is. But the people who helped us handle the cargo know about it and someone’s bound to ask. Also, I see some people from the old fighting pits among the warriors here that I can go and ‘catch up’ with. Everyone who desires a new set of fine armour will know where it comes from in no time…though I doubt it will result in a profitable trade route.”

“Why not?”

“Because these fellows aren’t paid very much. Actually, I can’t honestly say they’re being paid at all. You heard the recruitment proposal back in Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr, didn’t you? They offered war as an alternative to starvation: that means the warrior clans are seeing to their basic needs and nothing more.”

“I see.”

Ilyshn’ish examined the figures in the crowd, matching a few to the scene in her memories. Back then, some expressed confidence in their fighting ability and were eager to prove themselves. Others were only interested in the prospect of filling their hollow bellies. None doubted that Vogroth nar Ki’ra would give them what they wanted. She wondered if they still thought it was worth it now.

“How many did they lose?”

“Hm?”

“How many in this army died on the Jorgulan Frontier?” Ilyshn’ish asked, “Those recruits left Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr barely two months ago and they’re already back from the front. I’m sure you noticed how they replied to our questions yesterday. As receptive as they seem to be, nar Ki’ra is as evasive as any other warrior clan when it comes to their ‘military secrets’.”

“I’ve only really spoken with the crews at the docks so far,” Chimali answered, “but they say that the losses weren’t significant. These warriors wouldn’t be so upbeat if they had suffered some great defeat…at least if they were still sane. Even if nar Ki’ra has omitted much, it doesn’t seem like they’ve lied to us outright.”

They may as well have.

If the information that she delivered to Lady Shalltear didn’t match reality, Ilyshn’ish might get her horns sawed off or worse.

“Winter Moon,” Chimali said, “you’re a Bard, right? A powerful one. Why wonder about the truth if you have the skill to draw it out of anyone you wish?”

“What makes you think I can do that?”

“A hunch, maybe. Well, more than that. Even before outsiders started coming to Rol’en’gorek, I knew that Bards had a way of wheedling words out of others and turning strangers to their side. It was something that I was always jealous of and they wouldn’t be much more than lorekeepers otherwise. When you and Mitra appeared, the difference in ability was so stark that I couldn’t help but notice. You are from a far-off land, yet you easily slip into anyone’s good graces should you so please. Even people from the warrior clans open up to you without question.”

Chimali’s fur rose as Ilyshn’ish peered at him. She measured him against the other Merchants in his staff, and then a number of the locals. He stood a bit above the others in terms of strength, but it was a significant gap between individuals of civilian vocations. When she first arrived in Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr, he was little more than a common Rogue in a city teeming with them.

“It would be prudent for you to keep that insight to yourself,” Ilyshn’ish said. “Knowledge can make you a threat, and you’re the type of threat that can be crushed without a second thought. As for why I didn’t draw out the truth…well, everyone has a song of their own to sing. Truth; lies; ignorance; delusion – they are all a part of that song. To deny any one aspect would make the whole a lie in itself. Fiction.”

“But you do use your powers to further your personal agendas…”

“If the songs of others are meant to intertwine with mine, yes. But I never use my powers to make the world less than what it is.”

“Winter Moon!”

Her whiskers twitched at the sound of Ghroklor’s voice. She turned to regard him as he made his way from the stage towards them.

“We’re done here,” he said.

“And?”

“Call together your companions. We can begin our journey north anytime.”

“Don’t you need to prepare for the trip?”

“It’s just me that’s coming,” Ghroklor thumped his chest with a paw. “I’ll be able to manage our little trip just fine.”