Before the Storm: Act 3, Chapter 6
Chapter 6
What’s going on here, exactly…?
Following the Adventurer demonstration, they reconvened after a one-day break – mostly for the sake of Lady Waldenstein. When their tour resumed, Rangobart once again found himself at the army base in Warden’s Vale. This time, they didn’t come to register as guests, but to inspect the grounds and visit with its first class of recruits. Much like the various types of apprentices they had seen around Lady Zahradnik’s territory, the recruits’ time was split into vocational training in the morning, academic training in the afternoon, and personal time after dinner.
As they were presumably Rangers, combat was also involved…except what Rangobart was currently witnessing looked more like an impending slaughter. In the barren stone field before them, a girl faced off against a Death Knight that looked like it wanted nothing more than to turn her into a stain on its flamberge.
“Hey,” Dimoiya said in a low voice, “is she going to be alright?”
“How could that possibly be?” Lady Waldenstein replied.
“Maybe she’s stronger than she looks,” Rangobart reasoned. “Isn’t she the girl that we saw running on the road in front of the Orc?”
“Jelena only recently joined the military academy,” Lady Zahradnik told them. “This isn’t meant to be an exhibition match – it’s merely training that we’ve walked in on.”
How is this ‘merely training’?
Training in the Imperial Army – especially for recruits – could be strict and difficult, but he had never heard of training that was impossible. What could the girl possibly learn in a futile battle against a country-ending threat?
“Fight-o.”
On the opposite side of Lady Zahradnik, a pink-haired girl in a vaguely maid-ish outfit – a Maid from the Sorcerer King’s household by the name of Shizu Delta, according to Lady Zahradnik – offered a dispassionate cheer of encouragement. He couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not. Jelena looked askance at the Baroness, but she only nodded in response.
Jelena turned to face her towering adversary, squeezing her bow in her left hand. Several green objects fell out of her skirt. A squeamish sound rose from Lady Waldenstein as they realised what they were.
“Slimes?” Rangobart frowned.
“Slimes!” Dimoiya said with a horrified look, “Just where was she keeping them?!”
“Jelena is something like a Beast Tamer,” Lady Zahradnik said. “I’m not sure if there’s a specific term for a Ranger specialised in handling Slimes.”
The Slimes arranged themselves in a double-layered formation in front of the girl, who nocked a bodkin arrow to her bowstring. Did she actually have a chance? With the addition of the Slimes, the duel had become a nine-on-one. The Death Knight could only attack one of them at a time and their small size would make them hard to hit.
At Jelena’s command, the little green blobs spread out to encircle their prey. Metal scraped against stone as the Death Knight shifted in reaction to the Slimes’ movements. The air grew tense as the Death Knight was steadily hemmed in.
Jelena raised her bow and unleashed her attack in a single smooth motion. The arrow hissed through the air, then clunked off of the Death Knight’s shield. At the same time, three Slimes pounced onto the Death Knight’s back.
An ear-splitting howl filled the air, and the Death Knight twisted and turned in an attempt to dislodge its attackers. Three more attached themselves to the Death Knight during its frenzied dance. It threw down its flamberge to pick off its assailants, but the Slimes moved out of its reach. Two of them slipped into the joints of its armour.
When the next Slime pounced, the Death Knight was ready. It took its tower shield and caught it mid-air, swatting it into the ground with a sharp metallic clank.
“Em!” Jelena cried.
“Uwah…”
The Death Knight froze, glancing at Lady Delta. A moment later, a Slime squeezed its way into the visor of its helmet. The Death Knight reared back up with another hateful roar, but the wickedly-clawed fingers of its gauntlets couldn’t fit into the opening in its helm. Jelena’s arrows continued bouncing off of its armour as it performed a strange dance across the field.
“I didn’t know Death Knights did that,” Rangobart said.
“One of the Slimes inside of its armour probably taunted it,” Lady Zahradnik said. “Death Knights can’t remove their armour and they don’t have touch attacks like Elder Liches, so all it can do is angrily hop around.”
“Did you just say that a Slime taunted it?”
“Yes. I know most people don’t think of them in those terms, but Slimes are Heteromorphs.”
“I suppose that isn’t wrong…so the Slimes are all warriors?”
“Half of them are Rangers,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “The others…Jelena, have they learned any magic yet?”
Jelena snapped off another shot before glancing in their direction.
“Not yet!”
“Magic?” Lady Waldenstein leaned in, “Do you mean to say that even the Slimes in your territory will be mages?”
“Druids, in this case. They’re learning how to read and write, as well.”
“…does that mean they’re treated as citizens? I thought that they were her pets.”
“Why not both?” Baroness Zahradnik said, “If you didn’t realise it, Dame Verilyn is my pet.”
Does this fall under the thing where some aristocrats give their pets titles?
It used to happen uncommonly in the Empire, though he was half certain that said pets didn’t have any legal authority. Either way, it seemed that the Baroness was strong enough to impose her will even upon powerful Dragons.
A squeal sounded from Jelena, which was echoed by Lady Waldenstein and Dimoiya. Rangobart looked over to find the Death Knight dangling the young recruit upside-down from one leg. Jelena had dropped her bow and was desperately trying to keep her skirt from falling. Her Slimes continued furiously attacking the Death Knight, but they didn’t appear to be doing any damage.
“I suppose we should add pants to the uniform,” Lady Zahradnik said.
“You expected her to fight in a skirt?” Lady Waldenstein frowned.
“I fight in a skirt,” the Baroness replied.
Rangobart stirred at the recollection of Lady Zahradnik’s equipment. Some of the Imperial Knights asserted that it had been designed by some extremely evil individual to torment men who had been deployed for far too long, or perhaps subconsciously entice them into higher levels of performance. He could only agree that it was far too effective in various ways.
“Can I see?” Dimoiya asked.
“No.”
The Death Knight put Jelena down and the Slimes hopped off of it to gather around their mistress. Jelena poked one of the Slimes experimentally – Rangobart assumed it was the one that had been smashed by the Death Knight’s shield – before nodding to herself and retrieving her bow.
“How did I do?” Jelena asked.
“Conceptually speaking,” Lady Zahradnik touched her fingers to her ornate emerald ear clip, “I think you are doing well. If that Death Knight was a Silver-rank Adventurer, they would have ended up as a puddle of goo. Lady Aura was right about tamers being able to easily overwhelm their opponents. I look forward to seeing how you and your Ems perform once they start branching out into their respective roles.”
“Do you think that the Empire’s Beast Tamers can do the same thing?” Rangobart asked.
“If you mean coordinating several pets to tackle a single opponent,” Lady Zahradnik answered, “I’m certain that they could if they deemed it necessary. The problem is that it would be painfully expensive for the Empire.”
“Undoubtedly.”
In the Empire, Beast Tamers existed in one of two occupations. The first was working in the exotic menageries of wealthy citizens. The second, and far more common, was tending to Magical Beasts in the Imperial Army’s aviaries. With the appropriate training, these Beast Tamers could theoretically function as combatants with their pets, but their Magical Beasts – the Griffons and Hippogriffs of the Imperial Air Service – were far too valuable to serve as combatants on the main battle line.
While Slimes were far more abundant, he doubted that anyone would consider their use. How did one tame a Slime in the first place?
“Alright,” Lady Zahradnik smiled, “who’s next?”
The row of a dozen trainees took one look at the awaiting Death Knight before violently shaking their heads. It seemed that Jelena was the only one who had a special trick up her sleeve.
“Very well,” the Baroness said. “Carry on with your regular drills.”
They left the trainees behind, following an unmarked path between the training grounds and the base’s barracks. The building was identical in appearance to the dormitory at the Faculty of Alchemy, with a modest window for each of the rooms within.
“This place shouldn’t be all too different from the Imperial Army Base in Arwintar,” Lady Zahradnik said.
“It’s laid out differently,” Rangobart said, “but all of the parts are recognisable. The only thing that’s missing is the aviary.”
“That will be added later. I don’t think the Royal Army has settled on the composition of its aerial forces yet.”
“Doesn’t the Sorcerous Kingdom have dozens of Frost Dragons?”
“Almost all of them are full-time postal workers. Our most common military assets capable of flight are the Elder Liches. I don’t think they would appreciate being stabled in an aviary.”
He supposed that having hundreds of Elder Liches was overwhelming enough. It was said that five of them could destroy a small city, after all.
Lady Zahradnik led them into the barracks and they rested their feet in a large lounge attached to a mess hall and kitchen. It was nearing lunch, but there was no sign of food being prepared. He could only assume that meals were being delivered from the restaurant in the harbour village since there were still few trainees in residence.
“I’m starting to wonder which of your projects is the most ambitious,” Rangobart said. “The scale of any single one of them would bankrupt most Nobles of your rank.”
“The military base was one of my first proposals,” Lady Zahradnik said. “It seemed like the obvious choice for someone like me and the operating costs are handled by the Royal Army. Fortunately, most of the projects here aren’t a matter of money, but time, labour, and resources. Miss Gran quickly learned that things can go quite smoothly when you have the right mix. I don’t doubt your plans will see success if things will be as you say.”
Rangobart nodded silently in response. He had spoken with confidence when he first outlined the opening moves for his demesne, but time had a way of seasoning even the best-laid plans with doubt. At least he hadn’t set anything in motion yet.
“I try not to be overly optimistic,” he said, “but I suspect that I’ll at least see steady growth. In the interim, I have a much more pressing task at hand. Do you think what you’re doing here with your Rangers applies to my War Wizards?”
“It undoubtedly does,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “As different as they may seem, the fact of the matter is that you’re creating a new type of unit for the Imperial Army. You’ve noted in the past that War Wizards merely exist as a ‘function’. Artillery. Communications. Magical convenience. You already know how to deliver this. The identity attached to your company is just as important as your function, however, and it will be far harder to develop.”
“And how have you done that with your recruits?” Rangobart asked.
“Irrespective of race,” the Baroness answered, “the identity of the Ranger is woven out of its long-established role in society. Hunters. Sentries and scouts who stand an endless vigil against the dangers that lie beyond the awareness of our charges. We are both the first line of defence and those who bring up the rear should flight be necessary. This identity is already etched into our cultural consciousness. Without knowing who they are, everyone already knows what they are. That includes the recruits themselves.”
Going by her example, what is the ‘cultural identity’ of the Imperial War Wizard?
The first thing that probably came to everyone’s mind was ‘boom’. That didn’t exactly bode well.
“So the identity of Rangobart’s company is ‘boom!’” Dimoiya said.
“It’s a solid place to start,” Lady Zahradnik smiled. “It is what got the company approved in the first place, after all. But where will you go from there?”
“That’s a difficult question,” Rangobart crossed his arms. “We simply have no distinct history beyond that. It’s very annoying when you think about it.”
Admittedly, ‘boom’ left a very strong impression, but it was so strong that it drowned out everything else. No one associated War Wizards with customs duties or everything else that made up the vast majority of their work.
Then again, all of the old duties may not be a part of our work anymore…
“Lady Waldenstein,” Rangobart said.
“Yes?”
“What are the restrictions on this War Wizard Company?”
“Restrictions? In what sense?”
“Is this supposed to be a company of evocation specialists? Our current War Wizards are almost generalists in their scope.”
“I don’t believe there was anything set in stone in my proposal,” Lady Waldenstein said. “How the company fulfils its intended role is entirely subject to your discretion.”
Now, that’s interesting…
Rangobart cradled his chin between his thumb and forefinger, reorganising his thoughts away from his mistaken assumptions. The Countess’ clarification complicated things immensely, but, at the same time, it made him realise that he could build a far more robust foundation than he had initially thought.
“I think this is going to grow into something far larger than a company, Lady Waldenstein,” he said.
“Is that so?” The Countess smiled slightly, “So long as you can convince the Court Council that it’s worth the cost, I doubt they’ll have any objections.”
“You’ll have my proposal shortly after we return to Arwintar,” Rangobart said.
The door to the barracks opened and one of the waitresses from the harbour’s restaurant appeared with two Death Knights carrying stacked containers. She nodded slightly to their party before disappearing into the kitchen.
“We should go and get some lunch ourselves,” Lady Zahradnik said. “It’s going to be a busy afternoon.”
On the way back out to their carriage, they crossed the line of recruits heading to the barracks for their meal. Aside from the Orc, they weren’t too dissimilar from a group of famished Imperial Knights in training. Most were either too tired or too hungry to give them anything more than a passable salute on their way by.
Once they were done with lunch, they rode a carriage north out of the village. Rangobart half rose out of his seat when he realised that the horizon ahead of them was moving around.
“What in the gods’ name is going on there?” He murmured.
“The battlefield is being prepared for the league match,” Lady Zahradnik told him.
The Grand Arena in Arwintar sometimes went to extravagant lengths to set the stage for its biggest events, but it looked like several kilometres’ worth of stone was being stirred around before them. Their carriage rolled to a stop behind a long row of tiered wooden benches reminiscent of the Grand Arena’s seating. Atop the highest tier was a dusky-skinned girl waving a staff around in time to the moving earth. The Baroness led them up the steps of the seating and lowered her head in a curtsey.
“Good afternoon, Lord Mare.”
“H-Hello.”
Lord Mare continued waving her staff around as she offered an absent reply, her short, pleated skirt fluttering in the wind.
Wait, skirt?
Rangobart wanted to see what sort of magic was being worked in the field of stone beyond, but his eyes were ripped back to Lord Mare to confirm the incongruous sight. What he at first thought was a girl was in reality a boy, though even when he now knew, he couldn’t quite believe it. His gaze rose to take in Lord Mare’s elfin features. Was it customary for Elves to dress in such a manner? He had only ever seen them as slaves in the Empire.
“…this is Lord Mare?” Lady Waldenstein asked in a tentative voice.
“Yes, that’s right,” Lady Zahradnik nodded. “I hope you’ll forgive him for being unable to greet us properly. The spell he’s using requires concentration to maintain.”
“O-Of course…”
Countess Waldenstein lapsed into an uneasy-looking silence. Rangobart frowned slightly at her uncharacteristic lack of composure, wondering what was the matter. Dimoiya, too, looked like she had been punched in the gut.
“Lady Zahradnik,” Rangobart said, “since Lord Mare is busy, could you explain what’s going on here?”
“This is the same terraforming spell that shaped the foundations of Corelyn Harbour and the settlements in Warden’s Vale,” the Baroness replied. “We’re using it to reshape the battlefield for today’s league match.”
In front of them, a stony swell grew to form a series of curved ridges across the landscape. Outcroppings and forest-like landforms sculpted out of the dark grey granite of Warden’s Vale already occupied the rest of the field, creating a facsimile of rugged highland terrain dotted by stands of spindly conifers. On either end of the field, spaced roughly a kilometre apart, were two wooden platforms roughly three storeys tall.
“Are those where the Commanders stand?” He pointed to one of the platforms, which was adorned with bright blue flags.
“Yes, that’s right,” the Baroness nodded. “One on each side. At some point, I’d like to try something more complex, but I only have two Commanders in training at the moment.”
He had met both of the Commanders already while having dinner with Lady Zahradnik the previous night. One was too shy to speak to him and the other acted like he didn’t want to talk to anyone. Both could barely be counted as adults, yet they were both already veterans who had helped turn back the Beastman invasion of the Draconic Kingdom. He wasn’t sure which was more absurd: the fact that they had done so, or the fact that they had been allowed to command the armies of the Sorcerous Kingdom.
The ground trembled slightly as a shallow ravine formed in front of the seating. Rangobart glanced at the Elf boy beside them.
How much earth is he going to move?
The Empire’s castrum in the Katze Plains was considered one of its greatest feats of magical field engineering, yet it only covered a tiny fraction of the ground being worked by Lord Mare and required the effort of the Imperial Army Corps of Engineers – which included dozens of Wizards – over several weeks. He had assumed the work that went into forming the foundations of Corelyn Harbour and Warden’s Vale to follow a similar process, but that apparently couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Ei!”
With a thrust of his staff, Lord Mare created a spire that rose out of the centre of the battlefield. It didn’t even seem like he was trying to conserve mana.
“How often does this happen?” Rangobart asked.
“Once a week,” Lady Zahradnik answered.
“The league matches, or this terraforming?”
“Both. I try to encourage adaptability for everyone involved.”
Right. Nothing like what we do.
In the Empire, armies changed to various locations to conduct exercises. In the Sorcerous Kingdom, they literally changed the location.
After about an hour of listening to Lord Mare ‘mmh’ and ‘umm’ as he worked out every little detail of the battlefield, people started trickling in from the village. First, came wagons loaded with parts of colourful stalls which were set up in front of the stands. Most of them offered food and some even had entire stoves, ovens, and grills moved in thanks to the strength of the Undead assisting them set up. It wasn’t long before the enticing aromas of grilled meat, fresh bread, and hearty stews wafted on the wind.
Another set of wagons arrived not long after, loaded to the brim with barrels, crates, and a gaggle of children. Many were recognisable from their tour of the village’s facilities over the past few days. They split up into two groups while the Undead accompanying them unloaded their cargo.
“What are they doing there?” Dimoiya asked.
“Those are the suppliers for each team,” the Baroness answered.
“The suppliers?”
“League matches aren’t just battles between Commanders and their armies,” Lady Zahradnik told them, “they’re also an industrial competition. The groups of Apprentices that you see down there supply their respective armies with weapons, armour, consumables, and many of the other things that a real army might require.”
“And they do this every week?” Dimoiya said, “Isn’t that expensive?”
“It’s a part of my fief’s overall development program. League matches involve all of the harbour’s industries, as well as the administration. One could say it’s both a culmination of all of our efforts and a driver for continued progress.”
In other words, it was expensive. Much like how the people of Warden’s Vale regularly tore down perfectly functional buildings, all of the material and labour that went into the league matches was a sacrifice in the name of research and development. The margins created by the use of Undead labour, magically assisted agriculture, and the extreme land-to-tenant ratio were in turn focused on her tiny population. Lady Zahradnik had taken the fundamental principles of demesne development and applied them in an extraordinarily lopsided manner.
Though those fundamental principles were easily understood by anyone who wasn’t an utter imbecile or impeded by problematic personality traits, they were rarely so simple to apply. More often than not, a vast array of obstacles presented themselves to any Noble who wanted to see similar improvement. By the time one dealt with matters of internal and external security, public affairs, community management, infrastructure maintenance, trade, and the various relationships with other houses one invariably found themselves tangled up in, the vast majority of Nobles had neither the resources nor the time to do anything else.
A realm rarely stagnated because its people for some reason didn’t want to succeed. It did so because all known plausible avenues to progress had been explored and exhausted…or closed off to them by competing interests.
With the advent of the Sorcerous Kingdom, many of the old barriers had been lowered significantly. All Lady Zahradnik had to do was stroll through them while everyone else was still mired in a web of past ties. Could he accomplish the same thing? As the Baroness had asserted, his situation was in many ways similar to hers. He also had some advantages, such as only needing to deal with Humans. He also had no intention of being so universally ambitious.
“Can we go down and see what they’re doing?” Dimoiya asked.
“Of course,” Lady Zahradnik answered. “Will you be coming down with us, Waldenstein?”
“Hm? Oh, yes.”
Rangobart offered a hand to help Lady Waldenstein back down the stands, eyeing the continued rare display of disconcertment on her face.
“Are you alright?” He asked.
The Countess allowed Lady Zahradnik and Dimoiya to walk further ahead of them before speaking in a low voice.
“It’s Lord Mare,” she said.
“Lord Mare?” Rangobart glanced over his shoulder, “With all of the Undead and Demihumans that we’ve seen here, I’m surprised that an Elf child could unsettle you so.”
“No, it’s not that,” Lady Waldenstein’s voice lowered even further. “It’s…”
Rangobart frowned as the Countess put on a conspiratorial look and leaned over to whisper into his ear.
“Lord Mare is Lady Zahradnik’s consort.”
“That’s preposterous.”
“It’s true!” Lady Waldenstein hissed, “They’ve already produced a daughter! She was born just before the Baroness visited the Empire with Corelyn and the others.”
“You must have misheard. I can’t recall the Baroness ever mentioning having a child. Shouldn’t we have seen her at some point during our visit?”
A Noble’s household staff usually took care of a newborn so their mistress could continue seeing to her duties, but noblewomen still spent time with their babies whenever they could afford to. Since she was at home, they should have seen Lady Zahradnik with her daughter at least a few times.
“I know what I heard,” Lady Waldenstein snapped. “The child’s name is Glasir. Ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”
He didn’t want to. It would be wrong on so many different levels.
“I knew I wasn’t seeing things!” Dimoiya’s voice came from ahead of them, “Prez, come quick!”
It took a moment to find Dimoiya in the swarm of children. In the open field nearby, an even larger swarm of Elder Liches was busy summoning various beings into existence. Once the summons moved to take their place in the growing ranks of the army, the kids came to gird and arm them with equipment that wouldn’t look out of place in the front window of a successful shop in Arwintar.
“What is it, Dimoiya?” Lady Waldenstein asked.
“The tree!” Dimoiya pointed, “The one in the mists that took my garbage! It’s right over there!”
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