Fortress Al-Mir

The Greater Kingdom of Chernlock was made up of four separate states. The Kingdom of Chernlock to the southeast, the Duchy to the northeast, and two principalities on the eastern side of the peninsula. Shortly after the war began, the Duchy had sent for reinforcements which were just now arriving from the Kingdom to the south.

Arkk wasn’t sure where the communication breakdown occurred. From what he knew, based on what Vrox told him, the Abbey of the Light had pushed the Duke into this alliance. The main headquarters of the Abbey was down in Chernlock and had close ties with the King. So either the army in transit had not received alternate orders yet, the King disagreed with the Abbey’s recommendations, or the Abbey had splintered into two factions with only the local leaders pushing for this alliance. Whichever of the three options, scrying on the southern border of the Duchy was certainly an interesting affair. It almost looked like a war was about to break out between the Duchy and the Kingdom.

The King’s forces were being denied entry.

Then there was the poor state of the Duke’s Grand Guard. The effective army of the Duchy hadn’t escaped their few encounters with Evestani without suffering casualties. In the week since the decision to ally with the invaders, the Grand Guard had shrunk.

Deserters. People who didn’t agree with the Duke’s decision. Maybe they had lost people or their homes to Evestani’s assault, maybe they heard what Arkk had done to Gleeful Burg and just didn’t want to fight that kind of force. The army had split up and the deserters scattered. From scrying, it seemed like the deserters were acting more like brigands or raiders, needing food and supplies in the middle of winter while having nowhere to go.

That they had decided to turn around and start attacking the people they had been charged with protecting irritated Arkk. Nevertheless, the chaos in the Duchy was good for him. It was hard for Evestani, cowering in Elmshadow Burg, to launch a joint assault against him with an army that couldn’t even form a straight line without punching each other.

Besides that…

“There is opportunity in the chaos,” Arkk said, looking around his table of advisors. “The deserters need food and shelter. We can provide.”

The usual crew was present. Olatt’an, Rekk’ar, Ilya, Vezta, Zullie, Savren, Khan, Lexa, and Alma. Arkk had also invited a few others. Edvin sometimes joined meetings when Arkk felt he had input worth sharing. The conman sat between Lexa and Alma, looking pleased as could be for being included. Katja, the bandit lord sat at the table as well, trying to look unimpressed while clearly confused as to why someone not part of his employees was with them. Sylvara Astra looked around the assembled group with narrowed eyes, included because of her possible input and because her current stated goal was to ‘destroy the child-possessing monster of the Golden Order’ even before any other duties that the Abbey might saddle her with.

Alya had not been included. Ilya would tell her everything later, probably, but Arkk had no desire to listen to the woman who would probably run back to the Duke if given an opportunity. The newest member of Arkk’s minions was not present either. Priscilla, though she initially claimed to want to guide him, had been rather despondent as she languished in her private quarters deep within the fortress. He had ideas for her but he didn’t want to push too soon. Employee though she was at the moment, he doubted that would last if he offended her too much. Best to take things slow and make sure that she could be trusted and wouldn’t stab him in the back the moment she saw an opportunity.

“You plan to recruit the deserters?” Olatt’an asked.

“Recruit is the keyword, yes,” Arkk said with a nod of his head. “This is not an offer of housing as we’ve done for the various refugees we’ve taken in. They sign up or they get the boot.”

Rekk’ar curled a lip. “They deserted one army,” he said, most hypocritically given how he and Arkk first met. “You can’t trust them to stick around.”

“I’m hoping that they are generally good people who just can’t abide by the Duke’s actions any longer. We can provide needs, food, and shelter, but also a way to carry on a more noble fight than their current brigand-like activities. Evestani is our enemy. The opportunity to continue fighting them should entice at least some of the guard.”

Lexa’s sharp teeth gleamed as she grinned. “Failing the noble route,” she said with a scoff, “I’m sure more than a few would be happy to stick around for a little coin.”

Arkk dipped his head, nodding in agreement. He didn’t have exact numbers on the deserters. There were a few larger groups that were obvious and a few other less obvious groups in smaller numbers. Potentially, they could bolster Fortress Al-Mir’s numbers by several hundred up to a thousand if every single person who deserted joined up—which wasn’t likely. Maybe more if the deserters knew of other malcontents who were still with the Duke’s men. Already, he had the lesser servants expanding the fortress down below for food production and living quarters, among other necessities.

There was a small problem. While he was still mining from the vein of gold that lay deep beneath the fortress, the current output couldn’t sustain a gold coin a month for more than about three to five hundred additional people. He could—and almost certainly would—pay less than a full coin a month to the deserters. But that was only a delay to the problem. Having no idea how long that vein of gold would last was another issue. If it suddenly dried up and he had nothing else to fall back on, he would be the one experiencing desertion.

To that end, he was considering ways to recycle some of that coin. The orcs already had their small fight pit tournaments. He could expand that into company-sponsored fighting bouts where he could charge a fee to attend. Or large gambling dens where the house took a cut of the proceeds.

It was one of the reasons he wanted to speak with Katja. The bandit lord should have ideas for keeping men happy and in line.

“We’ll discuss the exact specifics of what we can offer later. For now, I want our most charismatic personnel ready to go out recruiting these deserters in short order.”

Edvin straightened his back, brushing some imaginary dust from his shirt. “I would be happy—”

“Not you,” Arkk said.

The smile on Edvin’s face turned to a devastated gawk. “But—”

“Edvin, Edvin, Edvin,” Arkk said, rounding the table. “I have a far more important job for you.”

“Oh.” He looked dejected for a moment longer before Arkk’s words finally registered. “Oh?”

“Desertions might be the most pressing of the Duchy’s problems, but they’re far from the only problems. Just yesterday, the Duke had to suppress a small group of troublemakers in Cliff. People, not soldiers, were as displeased with the Duke and the Abbey’s decision as everyone else.

“It was only a few people. Just a handful. Nonetheless, it got me thinking…”

“Oh…” Edvin said, this time with understanding in his tone. “You want someone with quick wit and a sly tongue to, shall we say, stir up a little more discontent?”

Arkk shook his head slowly. “Many who fled from Evestani’s march found their way to Cliff. Displaced and with their homes likely destroyed, they’ve got nowhere else to go. A whole city of tents has formed outside the walls. I can’t imagine many are happy that the Duke is now inviting their oppressors straight to the heart of the city, cozying up and sharing wine like old friends.

“I don’t want discontent,” Arkk said. “I want riots. I want the Duke to cower in the walls of his manor while the people flood the streets. So many that the few guards still in the capitol can’t just show up and arrest them. If possible, having the garrison guard join in would be ideal.”

“That… Although my talents are beyond inconsiderable, that is a tall order.”

Arkk clapped the man on his shoulders. “I can’t think of anyone else with the ability to incite ire like you can, Edvin.”

Katja snorted at the statement, making Arkk turn to her.

“And you’re going to help,” he said.

“Excuse me? I’m not one of your toy soldiers.”

Arkk stepped away from Edvin, approaching Katja. Not too close. Horrik, her bodyguard and ever-present shadow, shifted behind her in a way that wasn’t quite threatening while still being warning. “You shared with me your vision of the future. Queen Katja, was it? Why not get a jump on that dream right now?

“The Duke has never been popular. He held the Duchy together well enough. Now, however? Get your people spread throughout the city and the refugee camps, posing as the displaced, to help Edvin drum up his riots. Put yourself at the center of it all, maneuver and lie and cheat and whatever else it is that you’re best at. Make contact with merchants and other elites, garner their support, and, at the peak of everything, make sure you’re standing in the right place at the right time.”

“That’s so easy to say,” Katja said with a shake of her head. “Pulling off a coup will be harder than a few honeyed words.”

Arkk just shrugged. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. Or simple. Now was the best time for riots and what were riots but a precursor to a full coup. Even still… “Do it right and you’ll have the support of the people, the power of the wealthy, and whatever aid I decide to lend from the shadows.”

“And I suppose you expect me to wear a collar around my neck? I usually like to be the one holding the leash.”

“Frankly, you would be hard-pressed to be half the pile of refuse that the Duke is. Keep the Duchy running smoothly and don’t ally with my enemies and you’re free to do whatever you want.”

Mostly. There were a few things he might lean on her for. However, given her former past as a slave and stated distaste for slavers, employment of non-humans, and track record of successfully running a criminal empire, he figured that she could hardly be worse than the Duke.

Katja hummed, thoughtful and considering. She glanced back to Horrik. Not for one of those silent communications that people sometimes had, more like she was using his face to help organize her thoughts, maybe considering the whos, hows, and logistics of such an endeavor.

“I’ll consider my options.”

“Consider fast. Edvin is moving out tomorrow along with a few others from my employ to help. Drumming up support for yourself will be harder if you suddenly pop out of nowhere at the end.”

Katja nodded, leaving Arkk to turn back to the rest of the table.

Presuming this plan worked perfectly—which Arkk would never plan for—the Duchy would be tied up for the foreseeable future. Potentially permanently if Katja did manage her takeover. Even without that, angry people and a confused army from the Kingdom would keep them off his back for a little longer.

“That still leaves Evestani and the Golden Order,” Ilya said, following his thoughts. From the frown on her face, he doubted she was all that pleased with his plan. Less the assault on the Duke—she would probably not blink an eye if Arkk suggested outright assassination—and more the person he planned to put in his place.

There might be better choices out there but Katja wanted the job and Arkk did not. Managing Fortress Al-Mir and dealing with all the baggage it came with was more than enough for his plate, thank you very much.

“Evestani’s regrouping army is under the protection of the golden avatar,” he said, looking to Zullie and Savren. The former shook her head while the latter just shrugged. Outside of Savren examining Agnete and her flame magic over the last few days, neither had any real starting point for dealing with the magic of avatars.

So he looked to Sylvara Astra.

“The Abbey of the Light—or rather, the Inquisition of the Light—collects anathema and uses those magics against their enemies. I don’t suppose you know of anything that the Inquisition may have in their stores that can fight off an avatar of the Heart of Gold?”

Agnete, being one of those anathema, wasn’t extremely knowledgeable about much of what the inquisitors worked with beyond things that involved herself. Arkk was hoping that Master Inquisitrix Astra would have a little more light to shed on the subject.

“The Abbey of the Light carries out numerous experiments and investigations into any magic we do not understand. Through these experiments, Binding Agents are developed that nullify such powers. Purifier Tybalt’s Binding Agent took the form of the bracers you saw. Agnete’s is the… ice marble,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the terminology.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“The Abbey may or may not have research on abilities demonstrated by the Golden Order’s anathema user. If so, I am unaware of that research,” Sylvara admitted. “If, as you suppose, the Abbey has splintered between the branches in the Kingdom and the Duchy, the Ecclesiarch Manfred Engel at the Grand Temple may be willing to lend us aid. If the Abbey as a whole is unified against the one who caused the fissure in the sky, on the other hand…”

“Contacting them would be dangerous? The worst they can do is say no. Or ignore the request entirely.”

Sylvara shook her head, locking her red eyes on him. “Every bit of additional information about a subject helps the oracles hone in on truth and dispense with distractions. It might not seem like much but a delivered letter, the contents within, the direction the letter came from, and even the paper type or ink type used will let them pinpoint facts about you.”

She clenched her teeth, rubbing the palms of her hands against her knees. One hand was still that of a clawed monstrosity, currently wrapped with black linen to hide it away. Sylvara glared at it like she had just remembered it. She hadn’t objected to it. In fact, she had requested Hale be allowed to continue healing her in order to get her out of the wheelchair she was in. “I shouldn’t… tell you that,” she bit out. “You are anathema. But that golden-eyed abomination… If the Abbey has allied with such a creature, it has failed in its mission.”

Arkk pressed his lips together. “If we sent you away from here, to a safe burg or even a smaller village where I have never been, would you be able to write to the Ecclesiarch or your superiors or whoever you need to ask questions? Ask about their stance toward me, Evestani, and perhaps relay the story of your encounter with the golden-eyed being that you told me and ask if they have a way to counter the possession at the very least.”

“The oracles may discern that we are working together. They may set a trap or feed false information.”

“A risk,” Arkk said with a frown, “but as it stands, we have no information. Nothing ventured…”

“I’ll consider the best method to gain information,” Sylvara said with a nod of her head.

“Consider fast,” Arkk said again. He turned to the rest of the room. “Other topics. Zullie, how goes old magic research?”

“I have an experiment I would like for you to test. A new spell.”

“Good. We’ll see how it goes after this. Our new friend may be able to assist with that topic. She claimed to know old ways and such,” Arkk said with a nod before turning to Savren. “Effects of undoing the Calamity on both the Underworld and our world?”

“A dearth in definite data denies denouement. Source of sorcery starts several stratums separate from our subject of scrutiny. I require resources in the form of redundant realms for review.”

Arkk stared at him a moment, parsing his words. “You want to travel to a different plane for experimentation?”

“Right.”

Arkk pressed his lips together, glancing at Vezta. “We did suspect there would be clues over there. The Protectors have us stalled but with Priscilla’s aid… She is blind but she could carry someone and, together, search the land over there for anything else of interest. I’ll ask her if she is willing.” Arkk turned, looking at the orcs in the room. “Any news on the Protectors?”

“A new one showed up yesterday,” Rekk’ar said with a shrug. “That makes five sitting around and watching us. Still no sign of hostility.”

“Sending out scouts might provoke them. I’d still prefer to ally with them rather than fight. Maybe we can try talking beforehand. If that fails… We’ll be sure to be ready.” Everyone stationed on the other side of the portal could cast a minimum of two lightning bolts before collapsing. That, combined with some assistance, would have to be enough.

“Ilya,” Arkk said, looking at the tall elf. “Any trouble among the refugees?”

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m not sure how but word got out that the Duke is allying with Evestani. That’s going over about as well as you expect.”

Arkk crossed his arms, looking back to Edvin and Katja. “Look out for volunteers to leave for Cliff. Slipping in a hundred more people will only bolster the riots.”

Ilya did not look impressed. Her silver eyes glared. “You’re going to use them? Poor people who have nowhere else to go?”

“I’m asking for volunteers. Just like I asked for blacksmiths and cooks. They’re free to return here after if they wish. They really only need to show up once things in Cliff heat to the point of boiling over—it might not be for weeks yet. I’m not kicking them out or getting rid of them.” He shook his head. “It’s just something to feel out among them. Anything else of immediate importance?” Arkk asked when Ilya didn’t speak for a second. He looked to Khan and Alma. The former looked half asleep, utterly blissful, while the latter still sat on the edge of her chair like she had no idea what to do with herself.

“Alright,” Arkk said. “We have our plans. Let’s get to them.”