Fortress Al-Mir

They were on a time limit.

Arkk didn’t know exactly when, but this Prince Cedric would be here sooner or later. At that point, Arkk would lose Hawkwood’s help. Worse, he might possibly lose Hawkwood as an ally and, instead, gain an enemy.

Although Arkk had passed on the warning about Prince Cedric to Katja, he was very much hoping that the Prince would be too focused on the Duke’s usurper to concern himself with the goings on out in the middle of the Duchy. In case he wasn’t, they needed to move fast. Fighting off a war on two separate fronts wasn’t going to be pleasant.

That was the whole reason he had taken out the Duke in the first place.

“I still can’t believe that thing can move,” Ilya said, standing alongside him as the Walking Fortress took a step. One massive leg lifted from the ground, trailing small bits of dirt and stone in its wake.

It came back down. The brief instant of silence fell apart as a gust of wind blasted across the surface of the Cursed Forest. Ilya’s long, silver hair whipped up against Arkk’s face, forcing him to turn aside just as the leg hit the ground.

The ground rocked.

Arkk had felt several quakes in the past. Mostly after having contracted with Fortress Al-Mir in the form of enemy attacks—such as Evestani dropping boulders on him. But none could compare to this.

He was thrown clean off his feet. Ilya, by virtue of her elven grace, managed to remain standing. Even she faltered as the fortress slammed down its second leg. Before she could hit the dirt, Arkk teleported both of them down into Fortress Al-Mir.

The fortress still shook, though not as severely. Enough that he wouldn’t want to try running around but not so much that he couldn’t keep upright. A quick check through the fortress showed most people having stopped what they were doing to just weather out the repeated steps. Everyone, including refugees, had been warned, so there wasn’t any panic or alarm. There wasn’t much panic or alarm.

Peeking into the refugee section of the fortress did show a few huddling together with worry riddled across their faces. Mostly the elderly or the young.

“I’m going to adjust its pathing to swing wide around Stone Hearth Burg,” Arkk said.

“Good,” Ilya said with a short sigh. “I was going to say… Not sure you needed all those rituals and trebuchets you put in that thing. If it walks too close to a burg, it’ll shake the buildings to the ground.”

Before winter, Arkk would have agreed. As it was, he fully expected some gold magic to suffuse throughout any target he neared which would render those stomps completely inert. Assuming the avatar of the Golden Order couldn’t just blast it down with one of those rays. That was the biggest worry he had.

“Our goal shouldn’t be to destroy places without regard. I know what I did in Gleeful, but… Targeted strikes which leave most of a burg intact while routing Evestani are better ways of going about things.”

It was something to keep in mind, however. An extra weapon that he hadn’t counted on. If they encountered an army out in the open that, for whatever reason, hadn’t run away upon spotting the approaching tower, the tremors alone would keep the soldiers from being able to move. At that point, they would be at Arkk’s mercy.

“Come. We’ll head to Stone Hearth Burg and let Hawkwood and Richter know that they will have to move further north to meet with the tower.”

Ilya accepted, taking his hand into hers, but frowned. “Probably should wait until it stops moving.”

She… had a point.

Still, he wanted to visit the burg sooner rather than later.

He teleported both of them to the end of the far tunnel leading away from the Cursed Forest. The exit had once been a small hatch, covered in dirt and brush to keep it hidden. Now, he had built a proper structure. Getting a dozen people out by ladder alone was hard enough. Trying to force a few hundred people to enter and exit by ladder was a degree harder.

Steep stairs led up to a hastily constructed hut on the outskirts of Stone Hearth Burg. It was an unassuming building, constructed with worn scrap wood from one of the buildings destroyed in the orcs’ initial raid of Langleey village. That gave it a look like it had been around for a while. Some old farmer’s shed. Nothing notable. It probably didn’t have any valuables. Only the most desperate would look twice at it and even they wouldn’t discover that the floor slid aside.

Arkk and Ilya stepped out, both grimacing at the chill air. It wasn’t dead-of-winter cold. The general trend of the weather was upward. It was still a far cry from the heat of summer or even the warmth of Fortress Al-Mir.

At least the ground wasn’t covered in snow. The trek to Stone Hearth Burg wasn’t far but trudging through snow wasn’t fun.

Walking Fortress Al-Lavik stood tall in the distance, visible clearly across the rocky quarry that extended out from Stone Hearth Burg. It was a dark, shadowy blight against the otherwise bright blue sky. Arkk wasn’t quite sure what had caused that. When he first built the tower, it looked like Fortress Al-Mir, filled with violet glowstones and maze-like patterns everywhere. Over time, the stone had faded and blackened, turning similar to the shadowy blocks that made up the Walking Fortress Istanur in the Underworld.

According to Vezta, it was the [HEART]. There were many such artifacts strewn throughout the various planes. Al-Mir’s was granted to Vezta’s former master by Xel’atriss. If it wasn’t faulty as a result of the Calamity, they could have split it to form a Walking Fortress that would have matched Al-Mir’s aesthetics. The one inside the tower had been gifted to someone by the Cloak of Shadows. Thus, it rewrote its construction materials to match its patron deity.

It wasn’t dangerous. If the [HEART] had rejected him, he would have known it early on.

“You can feel it even out here,” Ilya said.

She was right. It was far fainter. If one wasn’t paying attention, they probably wouldn’t notice. Inside the burg, things could be different. The slight tremors would shake the buildings and items on shelves, and probably disturb any animals. The stables down in Fortress Al-Mir were going a little crazy. All the horses were in a wild panic.

Except for the skeletal horse. It just sat still, awaiting orders.

“We just have to make sure people know that it is here to help, not to attack.”

In truth, Arkk expected little panic inside Stone Hearth Burg. Or Smilesville Burg and Langleey Village, for that matter. When he realized that the tower, even inside the Cursed Forest, was visible from all the nearby settlements, he sent Ilya around to make sure that the people in charge knew nothing was amiss. Of course, being told of a distant construction project and seeing—and feeling—that construction project stomp toward your town was another matter entirely.

With White Company keeping most of their men around Stone Hearth Burg, recovering and recuperating from their part in the war, he hoped the burg felt relatively safe.

The vibrations only grew more intense. As Arkk neared Stone Hearth Burg’s main gate, he could feel each step of the great tower. So could everyone else.

He could hear the alarm of the local abbey’s bells sounding, ringing relentlessly. Guards stood on the burg walls and the main gates were closed.

White Company, as a whole, was arranged in a defensive formation around the outside of Stone Hearth’s walls. Some ushered people toward the burg but most just stood in formation. Even though most of them knew, he could still see nervousness on many of their faces.

“So much for not panicking,” Arkk grumbled.

Thankfully, he wasn’t denied entrance. White Company ushered him along with a few others to the burg walls where he had to wait for a long few minutes, standing in line to be admitted through a smaller side gate. As was typical of a burg like Stone Hearth, when the alarm bells rang, everyone who lived outside the walls was to make their way inside. If bands of raiders or even just a small horde of goblins showed up, the best place to stay safe was behind the guards and their walls.

“Oh Light,” an older woman in line murmured as one of the heavier thumps resounded across the land. She clasped her hands together, turning toward the sun—and, inadvertently, the tower—in prayer. Only for the words of her prayer to get caught in her throat as she saw the dark shadow stretching out from the Cursed Forest.

An older man placed an arm around her shoulders, turning her back toward the burg while lightly rubbing her back. “It’ll be fine, dear,” he mumbled. Despite his words and comforting actions, he clenched and unclenched his other hand repeatedly, a nervous action. “As long as those rowdy hens don’t tear down the coop in their panic.”

“It isn’t heading toward us,” Ilya said. She spoke softly and with a pained look on her face.

“That’s true,” Arkk added. Maybe quelling the fears of one couple wouldn’t mean much in the long run. It was still obviously a bother to Ilya and that did mean something. “We were further out when it started moving. You can see that it’s headed north of here.”

The old man offered a wan, humorless smile. “Mags hasn’t been well since that tower appeared in the Cursed Forest,” he said. He traced a light pattern on the woman’s back. “No. She hasn’t been well since the sky…”

Arkk grimaced, especially when Ilya shot him a glaring look. He had almost forgotten about that. It helped that he hadn’t actually seen it.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry over. Nothing bad has happened yet, has it?”

“War. A moving tower. The ground quaking. The chickens losing all their feathers in worry while it’s still winter…”

“Ah… Well…” Arkk wasn’t sure what more to say. He shot a look to Ilya but the elf just gave a light shake of her head. It did seem like they weren’t helping at all, so best to remain silent.

By the time Arkk made it into the burg, the rhythmic steps of the fortress felt like he was standing on a wooden board with someone jumping on the other end. Still nothing too intense but definitely notable.

With a mental directive, he ordered the tower just a little further north than it was, hoping that the intensity of the thumps didn’t increase much more. And maybe help quell the fears of that old couple and their chickens.

The garrison was caught in a whirlwind of activity. Guards hurried this way and that, gearing up and readying arms. Some directed the villagers who had been outside the walls to safe places. Others spent time calming—or trying to calm—a crowd of worried people. It was all the panic that Arkk had hoped to avoid by having Richter and Hawkwood inside the village. That was the whole reason they were here instead of inside the tower.

The course they had plotted through the Duchy to Elmshadow carefully navigated around most large villages and burgs. Plenty had been destroyed or abandoned thanks to Evestani’s push to Gleeful. Those that remained might get spooked when they saw the tower on the horizon, even if it wasn’t headed directly toward them. Stone Hearth Burg, on account of its proximity to the Cursed Forest, would likely be the burg who felt the thumping the most of anyone they passed. And that was after his adjustments to its pathing further north.

He had been planning on sending out scouts in advance to assure the villages that the tower wasn’t coming to stomp on them. But if all his efforts to avoid panic here still wound up like this…

Arkk had become something of a well-known figure in Stone Hearth Burg. As such, it didn’t take long to find someone who knew him and could admit him to the garrison.

It turned out, the panic was only on the outside.

There was tension in the waiting soldiers. Every thump of the tower’s slow yet steady march made everyone jump. But they weren’t running ragged, as if preparing for a war that wasn’t coming.

“Arkk!”

Hawkwood’s voice carried well over the hushed nervousness in the surrounding whispers. He stood from a table he shared with his adjutant, Neil, Richter, and the head of Stone Hearth’s garrison, a stout young man who went by the name of Harrison.

“What’s all the commotion about?” Arkk asked, looking from Hawkwood to Harrison. “I thought everyone understood the plan?”

“Oh, we understand it,” Hawkwood said, gesturing around the main room of the garrison.

“Keeping a few thousand people from panic is easier said than done,” Harrison said. “So make a show. Put up the guards. Rings the bells. Let people know that we’re taking the suddenly moving tower seriously and, when it passes, everyone will be all the happier for it.”

Arkk wasn’t so sure about that. The old couple who had been waiting for admittance into the burg along with Arkk and Ilya would have probably been happier out trying to keep their chickens calm. Despite that, he could see the logic in it. Make it seem like they knew what was going on and had a defense plan, even if they had nothing of the sort, and people would have a little more trust in the ones in charge of them.

“How soon are we ready to move?” Richter asked, eager. “Not to say that your hospitality hasn’t been adequate, Harrison, just that all my men are ready to evict these godless scum from our lands.”

That got a few cheers from around the garrison. Most from locals rather than Richter’s deserters or White Company. Arkk had a feeling that a few tales had been passed around while Stone Hearth Burg had been playing host to their guests. Maybe a few plots and plans of what the future might bring. Hopefully, nobody had been waxing lyrical about the capabilities or weaknesses of the Walking Fortress.

“There has been a slight change in plans,” Arkk said. He quickly continued to avoid any complaints. “The Al-Lavik will not be approaching the burg as close as we thought. It will instead be trudging through the forest to the north. We’ll have to march up there to meet it.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose the men will be good for a short march if it means not walking all the way to Elmshadow.”

Arkk nodded, grateful for the agreement. “Now that it is moving, I realized that its walking alone is a bit too destructive to bring close to a burg. It’ll shake down the buildings otherwise.”

There was a brief moment of silence as those present processed that fact. Arkk was uncomfortably aware of just how many people were listening in on this impromptu meeting. All the hum of conversation from the garrison guards died out as well.

“Thank you for your consideration,” Harrison said.

“Of course,” Ilya said, sounding mildly offended. “We’re not here to… hurt people. We’re just trying to help.”

“Well,” Richter said with a sly chuckle. “Help our people. Evestani now…” He trailed off to another round of chuckles throughout the room. “But, if we’ve got a longer march than we thought, perhaps it is best if we get the troops moving.” He looked over to Hawkwood as he spoke.

The commander of White Company nodded his head. “Very well. Arkk,” he said, turning fully to Arkk. “Until the Prince has us recalled, we’ll lend you White Company’s blade. I hope we can do some good in the short time we have.”

“As do I,” Arkk said, clasping his hand with Hawkwood’s. “As do I.”