Fortress Al-Mir

The baron of Moonshine Burg was a scrawny man with deep bags underneath his eyes. Insisting on the mononym of Doble, he invited Arkk to his manor office behind the high walls of the burg’s keep. Pouring a hospitable helping of amber liquid into a crystal glass, he took a seat in front of his paper-covered desk.

“Company Al-Mir, you say?”

“Heard of us?” Arkk said, taking up the glass and drinking a polite sip. Fine alcohol wasn’t much to his liking.

“No.”

“Ah. Well, we are a fully registered free company.” Reaching into the interior of his suit, Arkk produced a set of papers all bearing official seals. “I have papers from the Cliff Central Garrison, if you need.”

Baron Doble accepted the papers and looked through them for, frankly, longer than Arkk felt was necessary. He flipped back and forth between the papers as if checking that the information on each matched with all the others. Arkk had never really formally introduced himself to any of the burgs he had operated within in the past. Silver City came the closest and that had been the local lord rushing out to meet him and being far too grateful that anyone was looking into the situation in the mines to even ask about official documentation.

Here, however, Arkk intended to operate for long enough for word to spread. He felt it prudent to speak with someone in charge, just to make sure there wouldn’t be problems with a group of heavily armed individuals squatting in the local stayover for an extended period.

“You’ve only been a free company for about sixty days. Two months.”

“The company itself is new but our members are seasoned warriors and fighters.”

“Force composition?”

“Approximately twenty orcs make up the bulk of our company. We have a handful of spellcasters acting in a supportive capacity. In addition, we have four gorgon traveling with us.”

“Gorgon?” Doble asked, jolting. “You brought gorgon into my city?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“A problem?” His fingers furiously massaged his forehead, sending slicked-back locks of black hair dangling forward, making him look exhausted and somewhat deranged. “Where are they now? What are they doing?”

“Resting at the Canyon’s End stayover. The journey from the central Duchy was long and exhausting.” Or it would have been if they had actually traveled all the way here by foot. It took several teleportation rituals but they had been able to move everyone and Arkk’s new horse out here with little trouble. The nearest teleportation circle was a fair distance out of town where they had scried a suitable hiding place in one of the northern canyons. “I assure you, they will bring no trouble to the burg.”

Doble sputtered for a moment, completely at a loss for words. Arkk doubted any other beastmen would receive such a response. Then again, gorgon weren’t normal beastmen, according to Vezta. They had come from a different plane of existence.

“And just what did you travel this far for, Mister Arkk?” the Baron asked, finally finding something to say.

“Slavers.”

The man’s panic died off somewhat as he stared at Arkk. His eyes searched back and forth, slowly coming down from his alarm. “Slavers. I heard someone placed a rather generous bounty on a group of slavers in the western Duchy.”

“That was me, actually. These slavers have personally offended me. You know anything about them?”

The Baron shook his head slowly. “I’ve received reports of villages being hit, travelers going missing, and other such indicators. I haven’t had the manpower to investigate further.”

“Really? The keep and garrison are quite sizable here. Empty buildings?”

“We have our duty,” Doble said with a frown on his face. “With the canyons to the north and mountains to the south, the plains where we sit are the most likely avenue for a hostile force to approach from Evestani. The guards must man their posts to give forewarning. Sending them searching through the wide, empty land in the hopes of coming across a few slavers that are, ultimately, a minor nuisance, is a major dereliction of duty.”

“The war ended thirty years ago,” Arkk said, matching the Baron’s frown. He did not agree with the man’s assessment of the slavers being a minor nuisance. They had destroyed an entire community of elves, for one. Likely more than that. “Are they that big of a threat?”

“Three months ago and I would have said no with a laugh. Today?” He shot a morose glance at the stacks upon stacks of papers covering his entire desk. “I don’t know. I would feel much better if the Duke would approve transfers of the Grand Guard out here.”

Arkk leaned back in his seat, wondering exactly what that meant. The war had been before his time but, from what he knew of it, the Duchy had pushed out into Evestani territory in a fairly successful campaign… until that success turned utterly sour and Evestani, in a protracted and bloody assault, shoved the Duchy and the Greater Kingdom of Chernlock back. The Duchy wasn’t as large as it once had been as a result.

But the leaders of the time had made peace.

Hadn’t they?

That, he supposed, wasn’t his problem nor something he could affect. They were twenty orcs and a few others. Not exactly the kind of force that could take on a nation. “Well, you’re in luck,” Arkk said. “We can’t reinforce your outposts but we can hopefully take off pressure from the likes of slavers and bandits. While the slavers are our priority, we’re perfectly willing to take on any commissions that might come to mind.”

Baron Doble leaned back in his chair, rubbing the thin wisps of hair on his chin. “There are a few things… We found a werecat with manacles clamped around its wrist. Looks like the chains were pulled from a wall. It might have something to do with your slavers…”

Arkk’s heart hurt as he looked at the overly scrawny werecat. She was mostly humanoid with grimy orange fur. One arm, as the Baron had mentioned, was still in a manacle. The other arm was missing entirely. It was clear that nobody had put much effort into trying to help the werecat. She didn’t even have a proper bandage around the stump of her arm.

Unfortunately, that let Arkk have a good look at the wound. The teeth marks were sharp and pointed much like the werecat’s own teeth. Arkk could immediately picture her chained to a wall. She managed to pull one of her manacles off the wall but, unable to free the other, had gnawed her own arm off.

Of course, that wasn’t even the worst part of the situation. Here, inside Moonshine Burg’s garrison, she was still in a cage.

As Arkk stepped closer, she snarled at him, lunging for the bars of her cell. She might have tried grasping him but her one intact arm just clanked as the manacle struck the bars.

“Completely feral,” the guard said, shaking his head. “Won’t let anyone close. Don’t really know what to do about it so we just toss in a slab of meat once a day and… well, ignore the beast.”

“How long has she been here?”

“Found her wandering the road outside the burg about… two weeks ago? Thereabouts.”

She escaped one cage only to be tossed into another. Could she talk? Could she lead him to the slavers? Arkk stepped closer again, crouching down to be more on her eye level. “Can you understand me?”

The werecat growled, deep and low. A threat that promised a liberal application of pointed teeth or sharp claws from her padded paw. Long, pointed ears, one of which looked like someone had taken a bite from it, flattened against her mangy orange hair.

“I’m looking for the ones who did this to you. I promise to make them pay. You can help.”

Her eyes, hazel green and slit vertically, shifted to the side for just a brief instant. Just long enough for Arkk to note the way she looked at the guard.

“The other ones who did this to you,” Arkk said with a frown. He received no response save for another growl, sadly. With a sigh, he stood and turned to his side. “Zullie, do you think you can do anything about her arm?”

The witch, keeping well clear of the cage, looked down. “The arm with no hand?”

Much as he hated to admit it, her brief study with the Flesh Weaving spell had turned out better than Arkk expected. Better than he could manage. She hadn’t been able to restore Katt’am’s legs but she had managed to reduce the pain by destroying nerves inside his legs, followed by a simple smoothing to make the stumps less prone to infection.

“I guess I can try,” she said. “If I don’t get my face clawed off. You have a spare arm you want grafted?”

Arkk shot her a look. She well knew that he didn’t wander around with severed arms in his pockets. Ignoring her, he turned to his other side. “Savren, can you help calm her down?”

“A simple solicitation with a simple solution. A swift spell shall supply sufficient serenity.”

“Don’t hurt her,” Arkk said, voice firm. “Or… just… be nice.”

Savren rolled his eyes, fingers curling his black beard. “Sure.”

“Beyond the werecat,” the Baron said, swirling around his glass of amber liquid, “there is a small community further west from here. A plateau just at the edge of the canyons. Technically within Evestani territory. A small flopkin community lives out there.”

“Flopkin?”

“Diminutive bunny-like beastmen,” the Baron said. “They stick to themselves most of the time. Once in a while, they venture out into the nearby villages and even as far out as Moonshine Burg to peddle their wares. Fresh fruit and vegetables, mostly. They’ve got the sweetest apples you’ve ever tasted.”

Arkk hummed. “I presume you aren’t commissioning me to run out and purchase a basket of apples…”

“No, no. Just, they’re well-liked among the people. I know from the reports that the slavers have been primarily targeting beastmen and demihumans. With them on their own and too far from the city to get help, I worry they may be a potential target.”

“You want us to protect them? Station guards around this… plateau?”

“I doubt that would be feasible with your numbers. Not while searching for these slavers. That said, if there is something you can do to keep them safe, I would appreciate it.”

Arkk pressed his lips together. He would have to find out more. Where was this plateau, how far away was it, what kind of defenses could they erect and how much danger were they in. That said, one idea did pop into his mind. “I might be able to come up with something…”

“Stupid Arkk…” Ilya grunted, digging a foot into a small crevasse on the rocky plateau’s side. “Why me?”

Tall and lithe, Ilya felt that climbing had always come naturally to her. She could reach up to places that humans couldn’t reach. Her body, lacking the pounds of muscles that orcs had, was easier to pull up. That didn’t make climbing up the sheer side of an entire mountain any easier. Ilya stretched a hand up, reaching for a small ledge. Her fingers found a firm grip on the hard stone. A small bit of security against the sheer drop down the side of the plateau.

“Vezta could have scaled this in five minutes…” she grumbled, pulling herself up to the ledge. Halfway there. The slope of the plateau dipped inward, which should have made it easier to scale. But she was tired, worn, exhausted. “Oh. That’s right. Because she’s a horrific inhuman entity that sends small children running and screaming.”

There had been a few incidents around Moonshine Burg. To be fair to Vezta, they weren’t all her fault. Word of armed orcs and gorgon had gotten out. Next to no one visited the stayover they had taken over as their main base of operations now. Arkk had needed to hand over a fair amount of extra gold just to keep the proprietor from kicking them out. Even then, they still weren’t happy with what was going on.

Ilya grit her teeth together, continuing her ascent. She had looked all around the base of the plateau and had been unable to find any way up. The beastmen probably lived inside the plateau, burrowing it out, which meant there had to be entrances somewhere. Oh, but Arkk couldn’t spare five minutes to scry inside and find out where. They were too busy looking for the slavers. They didn’t want to startle the skittish flopkin by invading their secret entrances or teleporting in.

Ilya hadn’t been upset about that twenty minutes ago, also of the opinion the slavers needed to be found, but that was before she had scaled half the plateau.

Now, huffing and sweating despite the chill air of winter, Ilya was cursing Arkk’s name with every step she climbed. All just to hand over a coin to hire some flopkin, thus letting them call out for Arkk if they came under attack. Who was even going to be able to attack a place like this?

Arms feeling like wet noodles, Ilya pulled herself up and over the final edge, crawling forward into a grove of apple trees. She sat right on the edge, back to one of the trees, and looked out over the deep canyon that stretched north. “Arkk!” she shouted despite her exhaustion, her voice carrying over the edge of the plateau. “I’m going to kill you!”

As her voice echoed off the distant canyon walls, she heard a loud crack of a snapping branch to her side.

Ilya snapped her head over, eyes meeting the wide eyes of a little white flopkin, wearing a red waistcoat and tall black hat. He was short, about half the size of a regular human, and had tall perky ears sticking up on either side of the hat. Flopkin were more beastlike than some beastmen races. Were it not for the more humanoid hands and face, he might have looked like an overgrown rabbit that someone had dressed up.

That humanoid face was expressive enough that Ilya could see the terror in his eyes. The moment she took in a breath to say something, the flopkin bolted, hopping off through the grove of trees.

“No, wait!” she called after the flopkin, reaching a hand out. But the beastman was gone. Long gone. Slamming her fist into the side of the tree, Ilya shouted out once again. “Arkk! This is your fault!”

And to think, she was going to have to climb back down once she finally hired one of the flopkin.

“Thank you,” Baron Doble said. “I don’t appreciate gorgon in my city but… an extra helping hand isn’t something I’m going to reject. If they cause problems…”

“They won’t,” Arkk said. “I wouldn’t travel with them if I thought they were a danger… to the general public. My enemies, on the other hand, make quite the wonderful statues.”

The Baron pursed his lips tight. Maybe it was just Arkk’s imagination but it looked like the man went a few shades paler than he already was, which was saying something. With all the paperwork on the man’s desk, Arkk had to wonder if he ever actually saw the sun. Even the windows in the room had been covered with thick cloth drapes that tinged the office in a dim red light that the white glowstones couldn’t quite fight off.

“Any other matters that might help?” Arkk asked, taking another drink of his amber alcohol. It had a smoky flavor to it that just felt out of place. Meat smoked over a fire had a similar taste. A drink that reminded him of meat just didn’t quite sit well on the back of his tongue.

The Baron fell into silence for a long moment, thinking. He eventually sat forward, nodding his head. “To my great dismay, Moonshine Burg has always had a plague of bandits and highwaymen in its vicinity. Which is likely why these slavers thought it would be good to set up here.”

“Personnel issues stopped you from dealing with all that as well?”

“Indeed. It has forced us to take some unpleasant actions… Ah, but the history of Moonshine Burg is hardly your concern,” he said with a shake of his head. “One group of highwaymen, in particular, has been distressingly aggressive in the last month. They went from merely robbing the occasional passing merchants to outright halting trade, killing practically every traveler that passes through their territory, and otherwise making trouble. I had been trying to figure out the best way to deal with them but if you can spare some time…”

“Depends, I suppose. Are they related to the slavers?”

“I do not believe so, though I cannot say for certain. Perhaps you could ask them?”

“I’ll need more details before I commit to anything.”

“I am prepared to pay quite the generous bounty.”

For a moment, Arkk was prepared to dismiss that as a factor entirely. With Fortress Al-Mir sitting atop a gold mine, he didn’t exactly need funds. However, he intended to recruit. And the ritual room would have to be reconstructed, incurring a cost. There was also the fact that, right now, back home, he was having his lesser servants expand aggressively throughout the entirety of the Cursed Forest.

Digging out new space didn’t cost gold and he didn’t have anything to fill those empty spaces with just yet, but he might one day. Right now, he just wanted as much of the land under his control as possible. Preferably with easily blocked or collapsed passages, decoy tunnels, and a full maze-like labyrinth that would be nearly impossible for anyone to traverse without using magical means.

It was quite the project. With all three of those factors and the fact that he truly had no idea how long that gold mine would last, he wasn’t sure that it was wise to keep turning down the rewards for mercenary work.

Besides that, it was just what a proper mercenary company would do.

“Tell me more,” Arkk said, leaning forward.