Fortress Al-Mir

“Status report,” Arkk said as soon as he teleported into the meeting room.

The previous day’s outing had been a welcome distraction, enlightening, and worrisome all at the same time. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—he had other, more pressing matters to attend to now. Namely, the possible invasion of Fortress Al-Mir.

Vezta had called him, tugging on their link, shortly after daybreak. He would have figured that this was too early for anyone to arrive, not having expected them until noon, and yet Arkk recognized some of the landscape displayed on the crystal ball in front of Vezta. Particularly, one of the dead husks of a petrified tree wasn’t far from the fake ruins he had scattered around on the surface.

Without looking up from the crystal ball, Vezta managed to make eye contact. “It appears as if some of our guests got an early start this morning. They just stumbled over some of the bricks you left lying about.”

“I planted the bricks,” Arkk said idly. “Leaving them about makes it sound like I made a mess and didn’t clean it up.”

Vezta didn’t comment.

“There is an entrance hidden not far from where they are,” Arkk said, leaning into the crystal ball. “Think they’ll find it?”

“They definitely noticed the bricks. Before now, they were mostly meandering. Now they’re actually searching.”

Arkk looked over the group. Four people on foot. One on a horse. Judging by their attire, which was made up of well-made gambesons and well-fitting trousers, and their weapons which looked professionally made, this was one of the mercenary teams. The horse had an especially fancy caparison draped over it, colored white and red with little tent-like symbols patterned over it. That was the biggest tell. The caparison was for pure prestige. It wasn’t practical to fight in and it wasn’t even really practical to search a wasteland in.

Honestly, Arkk wasn’t sure what it was for. Parading about and showing off, he supposed. They probably had it on now to show off to any other mercenary groups who showed up. Or perhaps as an advertisement, passing through various villages on the way here who might have needed help.

“From what I learned in town yesterday, the inquisitors warned everyone that the ruins would likely be infested with dangerous monsters. They didn’t mention you or even a creature from ‘beyond the stars’ or whatever, just that the teams were to report anything they found immediately rather than try to investigate on their own.”

“The horse hasn’t run off yet,” Vezta said.

Arkk nodded. Maybe they didn’t consider a few crumbled bricks to be anything worth mentioning. “I’ll make sure Dakka and her team are ready, just in case. If they find the entrance or leave the area, let me know immediately.”

“Of course, Master.”

Arkk disappeared before she even finished bowing in his direction.

Unlike his normal efforts to avoid disturbing his employees, where Arkk would appear out of sight and then walk to them, Arkk now teleported directly into the meal hall. Dakka sat at one of the long tables along with a few other orcs, all still eating their breakfasts.

Despite ostensibly being a mercenary company, Fortress Al-Mir was lax in discipline. People ate when they wanted, woke when they wanted, trained how and when they wanted, and otherwise went about their own business. As long as the teams he sent out to handle wolf culling or whatever other jobs he decided to accept actually did their jobs, he didn’t care much how they went about it. Aside from Rekk’ar’s frequent issues about avoiding suicide missions, Arkk hadn’t heard any complaints. He knew that orcs, or at least these orcs, took pride enough in their martial abilities to not fall into lazy habits.

From their perspectives, they probably felt they had a decent job. He paid them a gold coin a month. There weren’t many places to spend that money save for when they went out on their jobs. Still, a year of working for him would let them retire in relative wealth.

In times like this, however, Arkk wondered if he was being a bit too lax. They looked slovenly, hunched over, barely awake. They had probably been drinking all evening despite knowing they might be needed today.

Even Dakka looked sluggish in getting to her feet.

“Arkk,” she said, clearly putting effort into looking more alert than she actually was.

Arkk looked over her and the four she was sitting with. “How soon can you be ready?”

Dakka glanced between her fellow orcs. Katt’am, Orjja, and Farr’an. Two others were part of her team for this but neither were present in the meal hall. Arkk hoped they were getting ready and weren’t passed out somewhere.

Nevertheless, Dakka looked him directly in the eye and said, “Ten minutes.”

Arkk was tempted to say that she only had five minutes but refrained. “Ten minutes,” he said instead, letting her have the time she said she needed.

“Do we have intruders?”

“Not yet but a small group is close by. I want you on standby just in case.”

“We’ll be ready!” Dakka said, slamming a fist into her chest.

Arkk hoped so. He still made a mental note to warn the orcs against excessive drinking the night before an operation… especially because they were supposed to have been on standby the day before as well.

Feeling a tug, Arkk teleported back to the meeting room. He looked at Vezta in mild confusion only to realize that it hadn’t been her calling for his attention. Teleporting away without a word, Arkk reappeared in front of Zharja, the gorgon with the iridescent black scales. She wasn’t in the gorgon section of the fortress but was actually in the library. Yet Zharja hadn’t been the one to call him here either.

Turning, Arkk frowned at the stone statue of Savren and then at Zullie, who was seated at a desk casually reading one of Savren’s books on mind magics.

Arkk let out a long sigh as he felt another tug, this time actually from Vezta. “Now really isn’t the time,” he said before teleporting back to Vezta.

They could figure that out on their own. For now…

“Problems?”

“They found the entrance.”

“Already?” Arkk grimaced as he peeked in on Dakka and her team. They were still armoring up.

“You did leave footprints leading toward it. Once they started searching the area, it didn’t take long for them to realize that some of the footprints weren’t their own. Maybe some peasants would have missed it but this team knows what they are doing.” She paused and then added, “They still haven’t sent away their horseman to fetch the inquisitors. The rider dismounted and leashed the horse to one of the dead trees.”

“They’re going to investigate without informing the inquisitors.”

“Shall I interdict, Master?”

Arkk frowned and slowly shook his head. “Dakka will be ready in a few minutes. Unless they rush through, they won’t get very far before she can intercept. I would rather have the team report orcs over you when they run away.”

“The inquisitors are already aware of my presence.”

“Yes but only in a general sense. You were last seen not far from Hope’s Rest, which is pretty much on the other side of the Duchy. I was seen there too. If the inquisitors destroy the fake fortress without realizing we’re present… well, I don’t know what then but it seems like a surprise we should keep secret as long as possible.”

“If you’re sure, Master… It appears as if they are stumped by your door.”

“Oh?” Arkk smiled, sitting next to Vezta to look into the crystal ball.

A short staircase led down to the fairly shallow fortress. It was much closer to the surface than Fortress Al-Mir proper was. A few parts of it even poked out above the layer of crusty dirt, though they were fairly well disguised as Arkk didn’t want to be too conspicuous. Following the staircase down, however, led the intruders to a large wooden door. At least, it looked like a door. It was fully fastened into place and not designed to move.

One of the mercenaries had pulled out several metal rods that he then stuck into the locking mechanism. Which didn’t function. He could try fiddling with the lock as much as he wanted and the door would never open. Arkk had intended for it to be broken down, hopefully by the inquisitors using their magic so that he might be able to see what kind of magic they used.

Sure enough, the one picking the lock gave up after a few minutes. His friends admonished him, one even going so far as to swat him on the back of the head. After, they all started arguing with several making gestures toward the door.

In a pique of curiosity, Arkk teleported out of the meeting room and reappeared on the other side of the door. The seal wasn’t perfect on it which was good for him at the moment. It meant he could hear.

“—good thing! I wanted to tell the inquisitors.”

“We will. After we get first pick of the loot. Think we can knock it down?”

Arkk jerked back as something heavy slammed into the opposite side of the door. After two extra thumps, the pounding stopped.

“Seems sturdy. Maybe if we had some tools.”

“Quit that! What if something heard you?”

“Like what? I asked around town. Lots of scary rumors about this so-called Cursed Forest but listen to the facts, not the superstition, and you realize nothing lives out here. No plants, no animals, certainly no monsters or the surrounding villages would be ravaged. There would be rumors of things attacking and yet there is nothing of the sort.”

“Inquisitors don’t investigate places like this for no reason.”

“Yeah, well, they—”

“This door is wood,” a new voice cut in.

The statement got a few hearty scoffs. “We have eyes, Frank.”

“Yes, but wood rots. This door isn’t rotten at all. If this place had been sitting around for hundreds of years, there shouldn’t be anything left of this door.”

A long moment of silence stretched thin as the mercenaries quickly realized that there was someone out here.

“The inquisitors said there was a monster out here. What kind of monster puts up a door?”

“The worst monster of all. Human. Or demihuman.”

“Bah. That just means it is an easily defeated monster. You know what else wood does? It burns.”

Letting out a sigh, Arkk teleported back to the meeting room just in time to watch Dakka march inside. The shortest orc looked much more alert now than she had a few minutes ago. His appearance made her stiffen, straightening her shoulders and neck. She wore her new armor. Orcs, having fairly tough bodies, generally only covered their chests with armor and left their arms bare. Not today. Dakka looked like a proper knight of the realm.

Except, while the silhouette was right, her armor wasn’t a shining silver color. Arkk wasn’t sure where she had dug up whatever she had used as paint but the silver was tarnished and blackened with angry red lines jagged across the breastplate. Combined with the ominous spikes on her shoulders and arms that the orcs had insisted on despite Arkk’s complaints, she presented an imposing look. Once she donned the spiked helmet that she held under her arm, it was doubtful that anyone would realize she was an orc.

“Sir.”

Arkk gave her a nod before looking back down to the crystal ball. One of the mercenaries pulled out a thin book and started flipping through the pages. Upon finding what he was looking for, he began a fairly lengthy spell. A ball of fire splashed against the door a moment later and a ding of a warning bell sounded in the back of Arkk’s mind at someone attacking his home. It didn’t set the door ablaze but, after three more balls of fire, some parts did start smoldering. They would get through sooner or later if they kept that up.

Judging by how winded the caster was, it might be much later. He probably wasn’t a very high-caliber spellcaster. That book probably wasn’t that valuable either.

“These are our current targets,” Arkk said, holding up the crystal ball for Dakka to see. “Five men. One seems capable of magic but not that capable. The rest look like average warriors.”

“We can handle that,” Dakka said, cracking her knuckles. “Easy.”

“I’m not going to hamstring you by telling you to go light on them but we do want them to run away and tell the inquisitors.”

“Frighten them off rather than kill them. Understood.”

“Good.” Arkk lowered the crystal ball. “Are the rest of your team ready?”

“Should be. If they’re not, it is their own fault.”

“Good. I’ll move you all to the false training room. Feel free to get warmed up there until the mercenaries show then dispatch them however you see fit. Remind your team that I can evacuate you at a moment’s notice.”

“None of us would run from battle.”

“You aren’t going to have a choice,” Arkk said, motioning to the crystal ball. “I’ll be watching.”

Dakka curled her lips in distaste. “Whatever. You won’t have to evacuate me,” she said with bared tusks. “Enjoy the show.”

Arkk teleported Dakka without another word, sending her and the other orcs into the false fortress. The training room was a large chamber with several wooden facsimiles of people holding wooden swords and shields, not too far from the burning door. The orcs, after getting over their initial disorientation from being relocated, happily began beating down the mannequins with their very real weapons. Arkk was quite pleased to note that all of them had, indeed, been ready. Or, at least, they had their weapons and armor equipped.

“Think they’ll do well?” Arkk asked.

Vezta simply gestured to the crystal ball. “The mercenaries are not equipped to fight a protracted battle. They are geared lightly for travel. Even fully drunk and naked, I imagine the orcs would still have the edge.”

Arkk sat down next to Vezta, clasping his hands together as the weakened door fell inwards after a few hearty blows from the mace-wielding mercenary. With them now stepping into his domain, Arkk didn’t need the crystal ball to keep track of them. He could see every part of Fortress Al-Mir, including the false fortress, with little more than a thought. The warning bells of intruders violating his sanctuary started going off in his mind.

“Honestly,” Vezta said, angling her upper body to face Arkk, “their armor makes them look remarkably similar to the Dark Knights of old. A band of mercenaries ten strong would balk at even a single Dark Knight. If these people have any sense about them, they’ll run the moment they catch sight of the orcs.”

“Dark Knights?”

“An Underworldian order of martial combatants. Considered the elite among the elite. They appeared human but… weren’t. Not quite. They valued strength and power above all and were a bit annoying with how upset they got if they couldn’t fight for more than a few days.” Vezta hummed, changing the view of the crystal ball to the training room. She watched a few minutes, observing the way Dakka slammed her axe down on one of the mannequins, dismembering an arm and a leg in one swift blow. “I wonder if these orcs are somehow descended from remnants of them.”

“You said orcs didn’t exist in your time?”

“Not as far as I’m aware. Their physical appearance drastically differs but who knows what chaos the Calamity wrought.”

“Undoing the Calamity won’t… I don’t know, change them back or anything, will it?”

“It is just speculation. And, as I have said in the past, I wouldn’t expect such drastic changes. At least not immediately. Perhaps there is some magical link that was severed that turned the Dark Knights into the orcs of today but expecting them to suddenly change forms is a bit much for such unmalleable creatures. If this speculation has more to it than idle thoughts, perhaps future generations might see change.

“The primary evidences you should look for upon completion of our ritual would be a massive increase in magical capacity for any capable spellcaster as the source of all magic stems from the [PANTHEON]. At the moment, only three of the [PANTHEON] are capable of providing magic to this world, leading to the decline in magic-sensitive species, lesser power for those casters, and weakened artifacts such as the [HEART] of Fortress Al-Mir.”

“I see. Well…” Arkk trailed off, noticing the mercenaries slowing as they walked down the long entrance corridor of the false fortress. He still couldn’t hear them but he could watch them bicker among themselves once again. “Looks like our intruders have noticed the sounds of the training room. Wonder if they’ll be brave enough to… Oh, there they go.”

The five mercenaries slammed their fists into open palms three times, making shapes with their hand with each thrust, before one of them visibly groaned. Shuddering, he readied his sword and slowly approached the training room door.

This one was an actual door and was designed to open for anyone. It took a force of effort rather than the automatic doors that existed around the main fortress area. As such, the mercenary was able to pull it open just a crack.

From experience, Arkk knew that door creaked when it opened. A loud and high-pitched noise that grated on the ears. Watching the mercenary’s face made him laugh. Doubly so once the orcs in the training room paused their mock fights and all slowly turned to face the door.

As slowly as he opened it, the mercenary closed the door once again. Once it clicked shut, the man stepped back, turned, and started running. He ran straight past the other mercenaries despite their obvious protests. They shouted after him right up until the fully armored orcs stepped out into the hall, weapons at the ready.

“Well,” Arkk said with a sigh. “I kind of expected some kind of a fight. Dakka is going to be disappointed.”

“It is for the best,” Vezta said, smiling as she watched the mercenaries flee in the crystal ball. “Conserve their strength for when the inquisitors arrive. I imagine they will be arriving sooner rather than later.”

“True.”

“I still think we should slaughter them. Collapse the entire ruined wing of Fortress Al-Mir on top of their heads.”

Arkk shook his head. “That’s the backup plan.”

“Understood, Master. Are you fully prepared?”

“As much as I’m able, I think. We just have to trick them and ‘escape’. What could go wrong?”

Vezta looked over with a sorry frown on her face. “My former master was not fond of such statements.”

“We’ve planned a lot,” Arkk said, trying to fight down his own nervousness at the situation. “We’ll be fine.”

“Oh dear.”