Fortress Al-Mir

Elmshadow Burg was nestled between two tall mountains. The mountains were somewhat distant from the burg itself, as the burg sat on relatively flat terrain with a river running through it. The surrounding land, mostly farmland, extended in all directions until the ground turned to rocky hills with steep drops and sheer hikes that only goats would enjoy. Even those rocky hills were still not quite at the mountains, though there was a gradual upward slope to their layout. At some point, where the tall trees began growing in force, the land spiked upward. Massive, jutting mounds of land towered over the valley. Those tall mountains and rough terrain stretched in either direction, practically slicing the Duchy in two.

The Walking Fortress could handle unsteady terrain. Each of its six legs was the size of a large house. Even if one leg failed to find a good place to plant down, it still had five others as backups. Arkk wasn’t willing to try climbing the Elm mountains in their entirety—not with the tower occupied and in danger of tipping over—but the hills? Those were doable.

For that reason, they weren’t coming to Elmshadow from the center of the valley. It had been Rekk’ar’s suggestion to come in from the north, climbing over the rocky hills while using the tall mountain as a shield against Evestani’s golden magic.

No need to take all the bombardment they would face if they approached in clear view from the horizon.

“Shame the warlock wasn’t able to increase the range of our bombardment magics,” Rekk’ar grumbled. His fingers drummed against the command table as he glared down at the map spread across its surface. “This spot would have been the perfect cover to unload everything we had without facing retaliation,” he said, jamming a finger into a small crook of the mountain.

“Wouldn’t work,” Hawkwood said with a shake of his head. “Arkk tried to repeat his feat at Gleeful here at Elmshadow. The golden dome fended off his spells without trouble. We would waste our supply of glowstones without accomplishing much.”

“Then why bring the bombardment magic at all?”

“Aside from it being yet another tool that will undoubtedly come in handy?” Arkk asked, raising an eyebrow at Rekk’ar. “I’m… I’m hoping we get hit by one of those rays of gold.”

“You think that witch’s idea will work?”

Arkk shrugged. Zullie…

Her reliability had dropped drastically in Arkk’s eyes. It had been just a single mistake. One error in her plans to call upon the power of Xel’atriss. To find that she, even after losing her eyes, hadn’t given up—in fact, she seemed more eager than ever—only filled Arkk with more unease. Yet… She wasn’t wrong. The Heart of Gold’s avatar had such versatility that it made Agnete’s power of flames look mundane in comparison. From what little Arkk had seen of Tybalt, the Jailor of the Void’s avatar, before his death, he doubted that Tybalt would have been any more versatile.

It had to be the status of the [PANTHEON]. The Burning Forge and the Jailer of the Void—though the latter had a statue in the temple—were disconnected from the world in a way that the Heart of Gold and the other traitor gods were not.

Zullie had come up with a solution to those rays of gold. It was planar magic. Magic derived from a combination of the lighting spell she had seen in the Duke’s manor and information she had… Stolen? Gleaned? Been granted? Arkk wasn’t sure. He didn’t know that Zullie was sure. Whatever the case, she now had information following the incident where she lost her eyes that she had lacked before.

From that, she had derived a few new spells.

“Even if our new protections don’t work, the tower is large. Far larger than any instance of those rays. From what we’ve observed, the avatar of gold can and does wear out. Especially after casting those wide rays of gold. It had to resort to casting far narrower beams after the first large one. Thus, we take a hit. The tower is large and the servants are standing by to repair damage. Then, while it is weakened, we can bombard with impunity.”

Richter cleared his throat, looking over the group with a small frown. “Not that I find fault with your grand plan,” he started, looking a little nervous. “Is there an option that does not require us to get hit? I haven’t seen one of these ‘rays of gold’ in person but I have heard of their effects. They don’t sound… pleasant.”

“I’m with the human,” Rekk’ar grunted.

The entire tower lurched as its forward momentum came to a halt. All six legs planted into the ground with a mental command from Arkk. The jolt wasn’t much. It probably should have felt like a minor earthquake. The magic of the mobile [HEART] kept things steady most of the time.

Still, it knocked an empty mug that had been sitting on the edge of the table to the floor where it clattered as wood struck stone.

“Alright. Suggestions,” Arkk said. It felt like this was the thirtieth time he had said those words in the last week. It seemed like they changed their plans for this assault every ten minutes. Sometimes it was because of additions to equipment such as the shadow scythes, other times, it was because new tactics opened up with the addition of magical elements provided by Savren or Zullie. Most times, it felt like nobody was sure how to handle the situation.

Granted, not many treatises on battle tactics had been written with regards to massive walking fortresses stomping around nor regarding avatars of gods. Not even Priscilla’s… experience with walking fortresses could quite apply to the operations of today. Times then, magic then, were far different than that of today. As were the leagues of dragonoids and other now-extinct species that she had had at hand to send into combat. Her tactics had been of the overwhelming firepower variety which, bombardment magic and supply of charged glowstones aside, Arkk lacked.

The discussion at the table carried on long into the night. Elmshadow was a mere half a day’s march away—for the tower. If they had been approaching straight up the valley, they would have been able to see it with the naked eye. Were it not for the change in route to take them alongside the mountain, they likely would have been hit by one of those rays of gold by now.

As it was, Arkk was a little nervous just sitting about. It would be relatively simple for the avatar of gold to take a horse out, charging around the rocky hills and unpleasant terrain. The scrying teams were keeping an eye out but it would be easy to miss a single horse rider at night.

If the avatar did leave the burg, the burg wouldn’t have that golden dome defending them. The tower needed to be in range to strike back if that happened.

So all this sitting around, talking, arguing, and back-and-forth over details that had been discussed to death over the last weeks was grating, to say the least.

Rekk’ar favored a cautious strategy. An attempt to draw the defenders out of their magically defended stronghold.

Hawkwood, were he in charge of the enemy force, would never leave their stronghold. As long as the avatar of gold could keep bombardment magic off their backs, they could hold out indefinitely. Especially now that the strike teams against Evestani’s supply lines were on hold.

Richter wanted to rush in. Send the tower through whatever attacks it could weather up to the walls of the burg. Stomp down any magical defenses with the tower itself, bombard the city once the magic was down, and send in the combined might of White Company, Richter’s men, and the specialists that Company Al-Mir could provide to overwhelm whoever was left after that.

Olatt’an, sitting at the table with his eyes closed, didn’t speak much. The older orc had a thoughtful expression on his face but… Arkk privately thought that he had fallen asleep.

Priscilla sat in her chair, tipped back to the point where two legs were completely off the ground. Her wings, planted on the floor behind the chair, kept her from falling. She was present because of her aforementioned expertise in utilizing mobile towers in combat. Most of the time, she didn’t contribute much to any discussion. The few times she did open her mouth, she tended to favor Richter’s aggressive plans. Much to the chagrin of the more cautious members of the table.

During a lull in the argument, Olatt’an opened his eyes. He swept his eyes over the map once before looking up, sweeping his eyes over each of the others at the table. “Why are we not playing to our strengths?”

“Exactly,” Arkk said. “Magical bombardment from afar—”

“Not that. While you possess great personal magic and the glowstones allow far more castings than should be expected, it isn’t a match for the avatar.”

Arkk pressed his lips together. He didn’t exactly have a way to refute that, so he kept silent and gestured for Olatt’an to proceed.

“Now, I don’t know the way the Duke’s Guard or White Company typically handle things, but Company Al-Mir is at its strongest when we do something unexpected and catch our opponents off guard, that they couldn’t plan for. This tower is something I doubt many could plan for. I’m not quite willing to extend that suspicion to the avatar just yet.

“They know we’re coming, as evidenced by the expanded fog over the entirety of the burg. They’ll have a plan. Maybe it works. Maybe it won’t. But charging in and allowing them to enact their plan is the height of foolishness.”

Arkk let out a small breath, nodding his head. “Yes. I’m aware. I just thought— Never mind. You have an alternative, I presume?”

Olatt’an lightly tapped the map on the table. He pointed to the same spot Rekk’ar had indicated earlier. A little spot nestled in the northern Elm mountain that was close to Elmshadow while still keeping the mountain between them and the burg.

“It is too far away,” Arkk said, shaking his head. They had discussed that spot. Several times. “The range of our bombardment magic is limited. Savren’s new ritual might have worked if we were able to get a direct line of sight but all the spells that don’t require line of sight are too limited.”

“Forget the magic, Arkk,” Olatt’an said, voice turning gruff. “We’re in a massive magical fortress that moves. More importantly, it counts as your territory, does it not?”

“It does.”

Olatt’an curled his lips into a tusk-less smile. “Then it should be simple to begin a battle on our terms. Not theirs.”

Walking Fortress Al-Lavik came to a stop. Six massive legs clamped into the ground, locking into place, before lowering the bulk of the tower. The flat underside sent up a cloud of dirt and dust as it came to a partial rest on the rocky hill. With one final adjustment of the legs to compensate for the uneven terrain, the tower went still.

Lexa watched the tower’s actions from one of the lower levels, peering out from a thin slit in the tower’s walls that was meant for unleashing arrows or spells upon anyone who would dare to approach. Before the dust could settle, dozens of formless figures slithered from the tower’s legs. Horrible slug-like monstrosities with far too many eyes and mouths filled with razor-sharp teeth. They scurried around, dragging their pulsating, bulbous masses along with them. The lesser servants of Fortress Al-Mir got to work.

Their maws gaped, swallowing swaths of dirt and rock here. Over there, they… excreted material. It wasn’t the same rock and stone. It was more of a slurry of gravel and mud. Other lesser servants moved over the top and began a hypnotic gyration. It was an abomination, revolting and disgusting to the point of making her stomach churn. Yet, despite that, Lexa found herself unable to look away.

Tiles, like those within the tower or Fortress Al-Mir, formed underneath the dancing servants. However, here, the tiles were more like those within the tower. They possessed a shadowy, smoke-like quality lacking in the maze-like designs that permeated the entirety of Fortress Al-Mir. The only true unification was the violet gemstones that blossomed from the center of each tile.

Lexa wasn’t sure where Arkk had found those creatures. Or Vezta, for that matter. Possessing a sense of self-preservation, she felt it best to not make too many inquiries. They created livable spaces, cleaned up messes, and performed minor maintenance on damaged parts of the fortresses. That was enough for her.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what they were up to out there. This stop and construction work hadn’t been in the latest plans she had heard. Having memorized the local map and from observing a little with the scrying teams, she recognized the area they had stopped in. They were about ten minutes of walking out from the burg—for the tower, not for a normal person. The tower wasn’t exactly fast, but it wasn’t slow either. When a single step could carry it half the distance of a village, it ended up able to make quite the pace. Especially once it got going.

It had been something of a shame to leave Katja’s warm bed for the relatively cold halls of Fortress Al-Mir. Gold lured her. It was just a bit more appealing than flesh. Her pockets had been filled, but there was so much more here. True power. Wealth was a way to power for many. Lexa had certainly followed that idea for the majority of her life. But now…

Look at Katja. She might be able to call herself a Lady or a Duchess or whatever she wanted, but when Arkk came knocking, she had to stop and listen.

Lexa was fairly certain she was in a better position than Katja. True, she also had to listen to Arkk when he came around, but that Arkk came around at all was a sign of how good she had it. Not everyone got personal attention from the guy in charge.

If only his attentions were a little more… attentive to her needs.

With a small sigh, Lexa turned from the slit window to find someone who knew what was going on. Only, before she could take a step, she felt that familiar pull. Like someone grabbed hold of her by her shoulders with a massive hand, whisked her through space, and then let her drop down into an entirely new place.

Well, well, well. Speaking of personal attention. After a brief stumble, Lexa found herself looking up to find Arkk glowering at a large window. His eyes, bright red and glowing, flicked back and forth as he started. She had once thought his eyes glowed when he was angry. Which was true, but also wasn’t. It was more like keeping the glow down took concentration. If he was deep in thought—even about mundane ideas—distracted by pressing issues, or just generally not paying attention, his eyes would light up.

Even though the red glared back against the window’s glass, Lexa wasn’t sure that he even noticed.

This was much higher up in the tower. The command room. Olatt’an was back at a large table and the scrying teams were in their little cubby holes, staring into crystal balls. Lexa had been inside a few times but this was the first time she had been invited.

“Sir?”

“I… have a mission for you, Lexa. It will be dangerous.”

Lexa quirked her lips. “Danger is just a spice to enhance a relationship.”

“Good in moderation but bad if it is overwhelming?”

“Everyone has a different taste for spice.” Lexa leaned against him, injecting a little extra breath into her voice. “I like it on the spicy side.”

Arkk drew in a breath, nodding. “This might be of the overwhelming variety,” he said without the slightest acknowledgment of her actions.

He was always like that. She knew he liked taller women—he had said so himself—yet she felt something should get through to him. It was starting to make her feel inadequate.

“We can’t scry directly on Elmshadow,” he continued as if nothing happened. “But we need information from within, to put the final pins in our plan.”

“And I’ve got the skills you need to get some eyes in the city? I understand.”

“I don’t know that you can get in undetected. Normally, I would assume you could without a doubt. But they are expecting us. The avatar has powers we’re not fully aware of. And Evestani in general does things quite a bit differently than around the Duchy. I don’t want to put you in unnecessary danger, on your own, with no support… but knowing is half the battle.”

“Relax. If there is anything I value more than gold, it is my own life. If I think I can’t do it, it might be embarrassing, but I’ll come back and admit failure.”

Arkk looked at her, glowing eyes flicking back and forth. After a moment, he nodded. Some of the tension in his shoulders lessened. He must have been worried. Actually worried.

How sweet.

Lexa grinned. “I suppose I should gather my things. You’ll want me out of here immediately, right?”

“First, I have a gift for you.”

“Oh? You shouldn’t have… Which is not a rejection. I’m a woman who loves men who give me gifts.”

Arkk didn’t react once again, save to hold his hand out.

A flowing black cloak of pure shadow appeared in the air, draping over his extended arm.

“Oh,” Lexa said. “You’ve got my interest…”