Fortress Al-Mir

Arkk knew he was walking into a trap.

It was pure complacency that allowed Kia and Claire’s successful attacks to turn sour. They had allowed it to turn into a routine. Routines were predictable.

If he had supply lines constantly under threat from an enemy he couldn’t defend conventionally, he would have been scrambling to find solutions as well. He wouldn’t have been content with merely repelling the attacks either. He would have been figuring out ways to strike back.

Thus, the trap. Perhaps Evestani wouldn’t consider that Arkk would try to rescue his employees. They certainly didn’t seem to have much compunction regarding casualties. Arkk had personally witnessed that golden avatar hit some of his own men in attacks meant for others. But if they were at all intelligent and even half as aware of Arkk’s character as Inquisitor Vrox was, they would be setting up and preparing for his inevitable arrival.

Arkk had distressingly little information about what actually happened. He could tell that his strike team was still alive through their links but anything beyond that was shrouded in mist. It could be that Evestani thought their mist would protect them from the strike team and, on the field, nothing had gone wrong. Arkk wasn’t sure that he was such an optimist anymore.

Thus, the rescue team.

Agnete. Priscilla. Dakka and a dozen orcs. Alma and a quartet of beastmen geared for stealth and rapid movement. Zharja and three other gorgon. Joanne and a team of swordsmen.

With so many of his trusted and, in Agnete and Priscilla’s case, powerful employees at hand, Arkk was leaving Vezta behind. She, Ilya, and Rekk’ar would maintain the fortress in Arkk’s absence. Rekk’ar would manage the soldiers and Vezta would act as a little surprise for anyone foolish enough to actually invade the fortress and lucky enough to get past the newly installed traps.

Although there was no evidence of any enemy forces moving toward the Cursed Forest, he had everyone remaining behind on high alert just in case.

The teleportation ritual carried Arkk and his team a fair distance from the obscuring fog in the scrying balls. It took time, unfortunately. A fairly significant amount of time. There were a lot of people to move and all needed to move in a hurry. If there was one upside, it was that the portal chain—a series of teleportation rituals leading away from the fortress—was already intact. They had simply taken the same one that Kia and Claire used up until the final hop where Arkk inscribed a new ritual circle to divert them closer but not quite to that fog.

Alma and her team teleported in first, immediately venturing into the fog to gather information while the rest of the force moved through the teleportation circle.

There wasn’t any literal fog around. The stretch of land east of Moonshine Burg where the supply caravans traversed—and thus where the latest strikes had taken place—was fairly sparse. Plains and gentle-sloped hills that stretched on and on, covered in low vegetation but without many trees about. Today, perhaps as a signal of the nearing end of winter, the sky was bright blue and cloudless. Still cold but utterly clear.

Despite that, the crystal ball still showed nothing but fog.

“They’re on their way back,” Arkk said, staring off in the direction that he could sense his employees.

“Sir?”

Arkk half-turned. Dakka, fully armored, stood at the ready with her team of warriors a few paces back. Zharja and her gorgon flanked them on one side while Joanne and her swordsmen stood on the other. They weren’t in any real formation, just standing and ready for the scouting to finish.

“I can sense that Alma’s crew have started heading toward us. I can’t tell exactly how far they are but they’ll be back soon. As soon as we hear their report, we’ll likely head out. Be ready.”

“I could have been there and back in half the time,” Priscilla grumbled from where she stooped, crouched with her icy claws on the ground between her feet. “Dealt with the problem on my own too. We’re wasting time.”

Dakka shot the dragonoid a dark look. She opened her mouth, probably about to needle Priscilla about something or other. Arkk stalled her with a wave of his hand.

“If I’m being honest, I would rather you not show yourself at all, in scouting or a fight,” Arkk said, earning a surprised look from Priscilla. Though she didn’t quite manage to look in his exact direction. Her iced-over eyes drifted past his shoulder. “Evestani may not be aware of your presence and, if they aren’t, you represent a surprise that I would like to keep for the most optimal moment. But I’m also not willing to risk the lives of the strike team, hence your involvement.”

Priscilla peeled her lips back in an ugly snarl. “You want me benched on the sidelines unless the pyro can’t handle it?” she asked with a lazy thumb flicked toward Agnete.

For her part, Agnete stood with a stoic expression on her face, ignoring Priscilla.

“I want everyone safe. After that, I want everyone used to their fullest potential. If the avatar of the Golden Order is here, you ripping him apart may well be a great use of your talents. But if it is anything but an entire army out here, I doubt even Agnete will be needed.”

Dakka, along with many of her squad, puffed up in pride at the implied praise and expectation toward their capabilities.

“Which reminds me,” Arkk said, turning to address the entire crew. “The lives of our comrades are our first priority but uncovering any magical secrets in the area is a close secondary.”

If he could figure out how they worked the obscuring mist and make use of it himself, he would feel a whole lot more secure in knowing that nobody was scrying on him. And Zullie—or… Savren, rather—might be able to find countermeasures, allowing their scrying to see through the enemy, thus giving them a false sense of security.

“That means any books or tomes in the possession of our enemies are a priority, as are taking notes of any ritual circles in the area. Depending…”

Arkk trailed off, turning at the sound of rustling brush. Since they left the area of effect of the fog, he had been able to track Alma, Lyssa, and Kelsey as they approached. The half-werecat stepped forward with the ox-like Kelsey at her flank. The full-werecat moved around the group and approached Joanne, who had been holding onto the long spiked chain which she quickly attached to the lone manacle she wore around her normal arm.

“Sir,” Alma said. “We found them. Some are fairly roughed up and some could use healing faster than others, but they all look alive. Unfortunately, they’re all caged up, being transported back toward Moonshine Burg.”

“Like the slaves,” Lyssa cut in, her voice a low growl. “Big beasts hauling big carts filled with tiny cages.”

Arkk closed his eyes.

Though his optimism had been lacking, there had been a glimmer of hope that Kia hadn’t run afoul of any problems and the fog was incidental to their mission.

“Enemy force?”

“About four dozen, most on foot but a quarter were armored knights with horses. Two dozen were pikemen and the rest archers of some variety. We did not see any children or other people with those Golden Order tattoos on their heads, however, most wore helmets making it difficult to tell for sure.”

“Any obvious spellcasters or ritual circles?”

Alma shook her head. “No, Sir.”

Arkk took a breath, frowning. “Well the scrying fog isn’t coming from nowhere,” he said. “How far exactly are we from Moonshine Burg? How long will it take the prisoners to reach it?”

Alma and Kelsey glanced at one another, uncertainty obvious on their faces. They weren’t locals of Moonshine Burg or its surrounding area. They had been teleported in with no real frame of reference.

Lyssa cut in, stepping back toward Arkk as she wrapped her chain around her arm, leaving the spiked end dangling. “A quarter of a day. Maybe less.”

“Not much time,” he said. If they let the prisoners reach the burg, getting them out would be much, much more difficult. And the enemy would probably identify which ones knew more than others in short order, interrogating them and executing the rest. In addition, Evestani might send out additional reinforcements to help escort the prisoners. Their hypothetical arrival would make freeing everyone all the more complicated.

There wouldn’t be time to spread out and find the source of the magic in the area. It might even come from the burg itself, directed to a distant location like the boulder drop ritual could be targeted.

“Dakka, Joanne. Come up with a plan to engage the transport. Involve Zharja in your plan—the gorgon can stone key targets before engaging themselves. Alma, you and your team use the chaos to free the prisoners. Focus on those least injured first—try to get them weapons so they can join in on the fight,” Arkk said.

He paused to think a moment, looking over the assembled groups. “Agnete, Priscilla, and I will remain at a short distance,” he continued, “ready to charge in as heavy magical support should the engagement need assistance or should additional complications arise. Dakka, you have field command. We need to move fast before they reach the burg or reinforcements from the burg show up to escort them. We move in no more than thirty minutes.”

Arkk watched in nervous anticipation as Dakka and Joanne’s teams ambushed the prisoner caravan.

From the reactions of the Evestani guardsmen, they had no idea what was coming. They panicked, broke rank, and fell into a disorganized mob. Half tried to flee, only to find themselves facing Joanne’s team. The other half tried to fight but, disorganized and lacking half their fighting force, they were quickly picked apart by Dakka and the gorgon.

Once Alma cracked the locks on several of the cages, tossing weapons to those captive within, the rest of Company Al-Mir tore through Evestani like a scythe through wheat.

The ease made him even more nervous. This was a trap. It had to be. The fact that it was going so well just set him all the more on edge.

“Waste of time,” Priscilla grumbled, twisting at the waist hard enough to send a series of snaps up her spine. “Thought I might finally get a chance to stretch my wings.”

“You were flying over the Duchy for at least a few weeks,” Agnete said, looking confused.

“It was a polite euphemism for crushing the skulls of some humans.”

“Surely you engaged in that as well during your trek, given what I know of dragonoids.”

Priscilla bared her sharp teeth. “You know nothing about me. I spent the last hundred years atop a lonely mountain at the behest…” A pained look crossed her features before she shook her head. “Forget it. Another waste of time to explain to a human.”

“Enough. Both of you,” Arkk said, not taking his eyes off the fight down below.

The fight taking place on the long path that stretched between two hills was nearing its conclusion. Not many of Evestani’s troops were still standing. Some looked to have surrendered. Arkk… wasn’t too sure how he felt about that. Callous though it was to think it, them all dying would have been easier on him. He doubted some grunts would have much valuable information and now he had to transport them back to Fortress Al-Mir, which would show off his teleportation ritual. Not a problem as long as they were captive but they effectively could never be released.

“What do we think? Was this too easy?” he asked.

“Your minions got lazy and got themselves captured. Nothing more to it,” Priscilla said with a yawn. “Got us all worked up for nothing.”

“Then why the fog in the scrying balls?” They were in the thick of it now. It was an eerie sensation. His normally clear and innate knowledge of Fortress Al-Mir, its contents, and all of his employees was obscured at the moment. Still there but just hazy and difficult to see. “There has to be something more.”

“It could be standard protocol to obscure scrying,” Agnete offered slowly, considering. “They never enacted the protocol in the past because the strike team acted too swiftly.”

That… was possible. But still too easy. “I expect we’ll know more once we have a chat with Kia. Until then, however, keep on your toes.” He glanced at Priscilla. Despite what he had said earlier about keeping her a secret… Something about this situation just rubbed him the wrong way. Better to use his assets than to lose them. “In fact, Priscilla, take to the skies and see…” Arkk trailed off, looking at the dragonoid’s iced-over eyes. “Well, see whatever it is you see.”

Priscilla gave him a frosty look for a long moment before she spread her wings out and, with a downward thrust that nearly knocked Arkk off his feet, took to the skies.

“Should have brought Leda or one of the other fairies to accompany her,” Arkk grumbled, not sure that Priscilla would be able to bring back any valuable information. She had an uncanny sense for some things, such as the Walking Fortress, but not other things. Arkk had spied her bumping into walls and knocking over chairs on more than one occasion.

“Will she be able to find her way back?” Agnete asked, looking upward with a hand held over her brow to shield the sun.

Arkk didn’t answer right away. He hadn’t thought about that and now, he wasn’t sure. Another reason for a fairy to hang off her back. Perhaps he should assign dedicated minders for Priscilla. She wouldn’t like that. He would have to call them something different. “She says she sees what the Stars want her to see, or something like that. So if the Stars want her with us, I assume she’ll figure things out.”

“Perhaps it is strange for an avatar of a god to say this,” Agnete started with a frown on her face. “I’m not at all sure that relying on higher beings to guide us will see us seize victory. They’re too… distant.”

Arkk had a feeling that the Heart of Gold’s avatar felt differently. But then, the Heart of Gold was one of the traitor gods. Agnete’s patron, the Burning Forge, was cut off from this world. As for the Stars…

Well, he had seen them for himself. Though they were distant and alien, they seemed to be aligned with the Lock and Key. Near as Arkk could tell, the Lock and Key was on his side. At least ostensibly.

He still wasn’t sure what happened with Zullie, unfortunately. Whether that was retribution, a misguided attempt at assistance, or just a freak accident. Zullie was getting better, slowly, in terms of eating and moving about. She still wasn’t saying much of anything. There was a lot of muttering. A lot of fascinated, awed murmurs. Things that sounded like they could be magical theories, but which sounded like nonsense to Arkk’s ears.

“Let’s get down to the prison wagon. I can already see some wounds that need patching sooner than we could get them to Hale.”

Still wary but taking some comfort in the shadow of the dragonoid’s wings that crossed over him, Arkk descended the hill with Agnete at his side. There was no sign of any ambush to counter their ambush.

Dakka, heavy axe resting over her shoulder, turned her head. He couldn’t see her face under the dark helmet but he could hear her smile. “Thought this was going to be a tough one,” she barked out, earning a few cheers from the orcs under her command.

“Be thankful it wasn’t,” Joanne grumbled, one arm held up to her shoulder where a crossbow bolt stuck out. Bright red blood leaked from between her fingers but it didn’t flow at a rate that warranted panic.

“The human is just angry she got caught out,” Dakka said with an even wider grin in her tone.

Not bothering to engage with Dakka’s post-battle revelry, Arkk merely uttered the incantation for Flesh Weaving and set to sealing Joanne’s wound. He worked quickly and without much regard for perfection. Hale would be able to do much better work once they got back to the fortress anyway.

He hopped from wounded to wounded, prioritizing those who looked worst off. Everyone who could walk quickly formed a line, organizing themselves by who needed care the most so that Arkk didn’t even have to think about who to move to next. Most of the injuries were among Kia’s team. Claire and Kia were no exceptions. Though, while Claire looked like she had been thrown under a stampede of horses, Kia had only a number of bruises and a large gash just above her left ear.

“What happened?” Arkk asked as he sealed the gash. The long blonde hair on that side of her head was a mess.

“The attack against a lightly guarded caravan was going as well as expected in such a scenario. It was small, just this wagon with its cages covered in tarps. Thought it was food until… well, it wasn’t. Then…” Kia looked pained, grimacing for emotional reasons rather than physical. “Not rightly sure. Something rang my bell, took my helmet off at the same time. A second knocked my lights out. Only came to in the cage.” She looked over, eyes locking on Claire.

The brown-haired dark elf pursed her lips together. A rare show of emotion. Claire didn’t speak much, nor did she enjoy attentions thrust upon her. Nevertheless, she stood and clasped her hands together behind her back. Now that she had been patched up with Flesh Weaving, she could actually stand.

“A soldier in gold. He—”

“Gold soldier?” Arkk said, tenser now than he had been since hearing about this ambush. He immediately started looking around.

“It can’t be one of those,” Agnete said. “Or they would all be gold as well.”

Claire nodded. “Golden armor,” she corrected. “Taller than an orc. Beat us all and threw us into the cages one by one. I tried to escape. He was too fast.”

Despite Claire’s correction, Arkk didn’t feel any more at ease. “Just one soldier beat your entire team?”

Claire nodded again. “Bare-handed. He intended to capture us from the start.”

“Where is this soldier now?”

She just shrugged, sending even more chills up his spine. “We move immediately!” Arkk said. “Leave the Evestani who surrendered. Fall back to the ritual circle. No one is to go anywhere alone. Guards at the fore and rear of the group. Keep eyes open and shout if you see anything at—”

A dragonoid crashed into the ground, gouging a deep trough through the winter-hardened earth. Arkk spun, looking in the direction Priscilla had come flying from.

There, standing atop the nearby hill, gleamed a hulking man in golden armor. Massive pauldrons hid most of his head and his helm sported a long red plume that draped down his back. Although he carried no weapon, the thick gauntlets around his hands could easily crush someone’s skull if he hit hard enough.

For a long moment, he just stared down from the hill.

“Uh, Arkk,” Dakka said. “I think I see something.”

“Impressive,” Joanne snipped as she drew her large claymore. “The orc’s command of the obvious is truly unmatched.”

“Quiet,” Arkk snapped. “Those whose wounds weren’t healed enough to fight, fall back. Everyone else… get ready.”