Charles Blueflame
A pandemonium. That was the one word I would use for this situation.
There were only a few people in the tent, so the ease with which they filled the place with the stench of despair was a bit surprising. They each reacted differently - talking over each other, changing expressions or simply staring blankly, yet no matter what they did it was clearly in order to cope with a harsh reality. All their arm-flailing, spit-flinging notions were a reaction to the oncoming specter of death. A total panic.
It was perfectly understandable though.
The enemy we were forced to face was no ordinary army - an opponent that could be reasoned with, maybe even bribed. Something within our limited comprehension. No. It was more like a force of nature - cruel and unforgiving. A horde made up from an unruly mass of tribals, monsters and wild mages.
What’s worse, unlike any other troop, their focus wasn’t claiming territory, gathering riches or defeating the enemy in combat. Instead, their army was like a cloud of locust, focused on devouring all that was alive. Nobody could escape their grasp, be it a simple animal, a guard of the merchant caravan or wandering high noble. This meant that a bigger and more delicious target - like our outpost for example - would never be overlooked. The dungeon expanding its influence was a clear giveaway, but even without it, a few hundred souls stood out like a sore thumb in the desolate northern wilderness. After all, the rest of this place was devoid of life and littered with ruins, baring an occasional tainted lake. With the horde coming, various raiding parties would form and spread around like wildfire, greedily searching for easier targets, leaving no stone unturned in their zeal. Many called such hordes a disease and their raiders were really like tendrils of illness desiring a piece of clean flesh to devour.
Any escaping civilians would be their prime targets, but the reasons for the hunt varied. Some of the invaders simply craved carnage, others cared about harvesting our mana cores or enslaving the civilized races.
Yet the worst among them were the ones who had completely turned into animals. Both their bodies and minds turned grotesque, deformed and demented. Yet they were not always that way. Not many knew or cared to remember nowadays, but the orcs, goblins, trolls, lizardmen, beastkin and all the other fallen races were once as civilized and organized as the Northern Alliance. It was the corruption that turned them into monsters, raising the strength of their senses, muscle power and reaction times.
This created a type of predator craving both challenge and meat, relying on their wild instinct to lead them from one feeding ground to another.
Only the most powerful mages and warriors could contend with them. Rare individuals or parties comprised of veterans could also defend against their assault. For the rest of us mortals, the only way to even have a chance to survive was to make sure we had the sheer numbers needed to overwhelm them. Something we didn’t have right now.
That was why, despite having services of the experienced Hawks at his disposal, the king decided to unhesitatingly abandon the outpost and save his daughter instead. The land could be always reclaimed, the royal blood - not so much. Even then the chances of survival of both princess and her companions weren’t that much greater than ours. Worse even, each hour of delay diminished them even more.
It was because of this fact that Agnes' bodyguard was visibly fuming, his eyes drilling holes in my back. At least he kept his expression neutral so only I and master mage Vincent noticed his burning impatience.
I focused my attention on the people present. Their state of mind was important. I needed to collect enough pawns to carry out my defense plan. In order to do that I needed to gather both their attention and support.
They knew that their lives were in danger. I observed their reactions, gauging them against earlier knowledge. Having a capable butler like Adam was really a blessing.
“No! How’s that possible?” Moaned Dross merchant Outeles while cradling his head. An extravagant cap he was wearing earlier already ended up on the floor - forgotten. It was clear that the man had understood how grave the situation was. Like every trader worth his salt he had loyal men guarding his goods and people, but… it was clear for anybody that his control would slip the moment that news about the horde went public.
Such were the hearts of men.
“-------!” Tom, the civilian representative was silent, clearly too shocked for the words to escape his mouth. He hyperventilated, his bald head full of sweat, eyes darting, hoping that it was all just a cruel noble’s joke.
It wasn’t.
I never saw a man who could sweat so much, his handkerchief already damp and dirty. It was quite disgusting to watch, noble sensibilities or not. And yet I rejoiced. His fear was useful. It made him predictable. The people he represented were a burden. Weight to be left behind in order to survive.
And since I was planning to be their savior, they should latch on tightly.
Good.
While the rest of the representatives were also agitated, their reactions seemed muted compared to the civilians. A clear divide between powerful and powerless.
Captain Molan Duree was mumbling something to himself. It might have been a tic, but he kept rubbing the handle of his sword. A simple, iron thing used by ordinary soldiers. It looked weird on the officer’s waist. His face seemed full of worry, but also radiated the feeling of strange confidence. I could barely hear words like “last defensive line”, “a heart of the warrior” and “show them our worth”.
I miscalculated.
The captain seemed like a weak man at first, left for dead by his superiors and easily pushed around by his peers. Unexpectedly there seemed to be something else here instead, a wild, unbound spirit. It would be hard to convince him to stop worrying and just follow behind my back. And yet I would have to try.
On the other hand Guild Master Lois was smiling creepily. It was a strange reaction to the news that a bloody battle and probable annihilation was near. Was he a battle maniac then? That would fit the bill, but he sure didn’t seem like one. I guess appearances could be deceiving…
I was sure that as the survivor of the Adventuring Guild higher-ups he would be more concerned about his life. If I remembered correctly his caravan was ambushed by the rats native to the dungeon, culling the unwary adventurers. The defenders let their guard down, thinking them a common and weak monster. They were however damn clever and organized, managing to turn the tables on their unsuspecting foe. It was probably the first time that the aggressiveness of the dungeon’s creatures worked in my favor. The negotiations with the old fogeys would be impossible, but with Lois? There was a chance. He was young, brash, and much too impulsive.
Should I manage to appeal to his wild side he and his vagabonds would become my sla-allies.
And last, but not least there was Master Vincent. The old man was so scary that I even called him with a big “M” in my thoughts. Was this the difference in levels or something else? Who knew… Anyway, he led his own troupe of combat mages, a rarity in the Geinard Kingdom. Most if not all people born with magic cores were after all promptly recruited after discovering their ability, becoming a part of either army, special forces, noble retinues or various public organizations.
Because of that fact, the people following the old mage were a rare breed. And pretty much the only wizard troop in the outpost, not counting a dozen or two of Royal Army mages. Sadly their levels and experience were completely incomparable. My Order also had a few, but we faced the same problem.
The man in question was just staring blankly ahead, thinking about something very hard. His wizened face scrunched in thought as he scratched the weird-looking cap on his head every so often. His mumbles were much quieter than those produced by Captain Duree and completely unrecognizable.
However, as he noticed my gaze the old mage smiled toothily and nodded. A clear indication that at least one person in this room understood why I had gathered them all today. Master Vincent was calm. So calm that I started to suspect that he was in possession of some kind of life-saving artifact. Maybe a legendary teleportation stone?
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
What I would give for such power...
Not good. My thoughts were swimming.
No distractions!
I needed to focus on the present and so did the people in the room.
I clapped my hands loudly, gathering their attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen! I didn’t gather you here without a solution. I have a plan for all of us to survive this calamity and even bite back at our enemies!” My words, especially the latter ones lit the fire in the military men’s eyes.
“I would very like to hear about this plan of yours, good sire!” Shouted Captain Duree and Guild Master Lois nodded fiercely to his words.
“Yes. Any plan that gives us a chance at survival is a good plan!” He smiled widely. Huh. So he was not just a bloodthirsty idiot.
“Then…”
“There is only one thing I’m concerned with, sir.” Molan decided to interrupt me.
“What is it?” I asked back.
“Why are they here?” He asked while pointing towards Tom and Outeles. “I believe that or talks will be of the military nature and as such the presence of a civilian and a foreign merchant are uncalled for.” His last words were full of poison as he directed his derogatory gaze at the two men in question.
Bald Tom only lowered his head, a somewhat comical sight for a man as large and muscular as him. It reminded me of a child being scolded by his mother. The merchant on the other hand only sighed and started to talk back.
“Listen, you----”
“They’re here because I need their help, captain.” I interrupted coldly, becoming once again a target of their shocked gazes.
“W-what do you mean?” The soldier answered, clearly forgetting his manners because of the surprise. “Our armed forces are the unbreakable shield behind which the common people of Geinard Kingdom can take shelter!”
“And what would you propose should be their fate in this situation?” I asked, knowing what he alluded to.
“They should escape while they can and leave the outpost defense to us!” He proclaimed boldly, squeezing a frightened gasp from Tom’s mouth.
It was a nice way to say that they should fend for themselves. Considering the advancing horde they would become a distraction and probably also nourishment for the incoming enemies.
I considered this possibility, but the cons simply outweigh the pros.
“The civilians are a precious workforce and militia material.” I answered, with a small smirk on my face.
“Workforce? For what?” Captain Duree asked, clearly confused. “Sir.” He added after a second.
“Where do you want to defend then, captain?” I asked incredulously. He can’t be that stupid.
“Ummm… in the field?”
“While the battle would be a glorious one we would get certainly annihilated.” Snorted Lois, while inspecting the nasty piece of rusted iron he called a sword. Or was it a cleaver?
“That is true. And since we have a lot of materials…” I tapped one of the chairs made from the local silvery flora.
“I see.” My gaze turned toward Tom.
“We would gladly take part in your plan, sir!” He shouted loudly eliciting a lot of wry expressions from other people. And one not so loud curse. “My people will volunteer for the defensive duty too!” He added while bowing deeply, his bald, shiny head dripping with sweat.
“The merchant then, sir?” Captain Duree asked, half-convinced.
“I ask you, Outeles Kamap, lend us a hand in this time of crisis, according to the Northern Alliance tenets.” I asked formally while staring at the young man from the Dross Republic. He calmed down considerably, seeing the other’s focusing on the future.
My words straightened his back even more.
“I will aid you, sir, to the best of my ability. What would you have me do?” The fancy hat was still lying on the ground, but the man himself seemed more focused than before. Well, a vision of certain death would do that to anybody.
“Tw-Three things I need of you.” I lifted my fingers in the air. “Your guards and your cargo will be merged into the defensive effort.”
“A chance at life can’t be bought for no amount of gold.” He smiled, before muttering half-audibly. “At least against these unholy beasts.”
“Good.” I nodded. “I also need you!”
“What?!” It was the calm Agnes that suddenly stood up like her ass was on fire. “What are you talking about?” She seemed angry.
“I need a person to manage our stockpiles, princess? An accountant of sorts…?” I asked falteringly, seeing her furious glow dissipate in the air like it was never there.
“Is that so? Then continue.” She nodded, suddenly calm. I was left disoriented… surely she hasn’t thought that I changed my orientation… I thought incredulously. Mentally shaking my head and bowing slightly towards her I continued.
“Then there is also Adventurer’s Guild and Master Vincent’s mages---”
“We’ll follow.” Lois was one to interrupt me and before a frown started to form on my face another person spoke.
“My disciples and I will also help. It was a long time since I was in a scuffle, but we should do fine. There is however something else that intrigues me. That plan of yours. So don’t delay and tell us all about it.” Master Vincent was staring at me with his clear eyes, playing with the gorgeous embroidery decorating hem of his robe.
“Yes. I will so. But before that, I need to ask you a simple, but important question.”
“Yes?”
“How durable are dungeon walls?”
“Strong enough to withstand the force of fireball, but not the pickaxe’ endless toil.” Old mage answered in a poetic fashion.
“I see.” I mumbled, before continuing. “Then… how strong are they from outside?”
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” A stern voice interrupted my questioning. “Any destruction of the Kingdom property - the dungeon included - is forbidden by the royal law!” Agnes' bodyguard suddenly barged into our conversation, his face full of fury. “Cease this foolishness at once, noble, or your family and everybody present will face the consequences!” He bellowed.
I was surprisingly calm, eyeing his armed form.
“And who you are to lay this claim?”
“My name is Korn and I am one of the Hawks!” He declared proudly.
“And what is your military rank in the Hawks, Korn?”
“I am a corporal!” He answered, his voice wavering a bit.
“Then I guess you also know that when addressing a noble one has to adhere to the proper protocol?” I asked back, my words full of venom. “Unless you’re a noble yourself?”
“I-I am not.”
“I see. Then once again, on whose authority are you ordering us to cease planning?”
“O-on authority of the K-kingdom…” He answered warily, sensing a trap.
“And who gave you this authority?”
“I-I am a Hawk!”
“And I am a NOBLE. So tell me, little peasant, what gives you permission to interrupt, when your betters are speaking?!” I shouted. “A mere corporal, eh?!”
“B-----!”
“Silence!” It was my show now. “Who do you think you are, coward?”
“I am no coward!”
“Oh, you’re not? Then I suppose we will see you on the battlefield, helping to keep this place free from Fallen Tribes scum?” I provoked. It was too easy. The man might be a high-level rogue, but he engaged in political debate, where a goal was not the truth, but beating your opponent.
“I-I have orders! There isn’t much I can do about that!” Good, he keeps discrediting himself. What a find.
“Then did your orders also include helping with the outpost defense?”
“N-no.”
“Were you invited to this meeting at all?”
“I came as the princess’ bodyguard!”
“I need no bodyguard.” Calmly replied Agnes. Nice save! “You came here on your own, corporal, insisting that I was in danger. On your own volition.” She emphasized and in response, the rogue shrank under her cold gaze.
“So to summarize. Corporal Korn intruded on his own on the secret defense meeting and managed to insult not only a Kingdom’s noble but also Kingdom’s own princess! What do you have to say in your defense?!” I shouted, the crux of the matter already shifting from using the dungeon in my scheme towards his lack of authority to order us anything.
“B-but, the law----!” He still tried, stuttering words failing him time and time again.
“A message from the capital said that we should do whatever is necessary to keep this place defended. Are you saying that your word precedes in importance Royal Army directives?!”
“I---!”
“That’s enough.” Said Agnes and nodded in confirmation.
“Leave. Just… leave.” I said tiredly. “Before I send the message asking for your dishonorable discharge from the Hawks. You made enough mistakes today.” Seeing my iron gaze Korn swallowed dryly and retreated, before bowing deeply towards the royalty.
“Haaaaa… That was tiresome.” I eyed the remaining people. “Now, let’s start talking again. Without interruptions this time.” Under my scrutiny, the men straightened their backs, while Agnes smiled warmly.
The first battle was won.
Now only to implement my plan… and survive.