Blue Mage Aleksandar Stojanovski
Aleksandar took a moment to take in the office that had been given to him. It wasn't what he'd expect as an Eldritch Council liaison. It was rather small and dirty, apparently having been used by anyone that needed some privacy to do their work. Scraps of paper with scrawled notes, crossed out orders, and random lists, littered the desk. Someone had gone through the room quickly sweeping the floor and getting rid of any obvious garbage, but the floor was stained and everything needed a good polishing.
Still he wasn't fussy about his work space. As long as he had paper, ink, and preferably a flat surface he could do his work.
He did wish he'd had an hour or two to change and prepare himself. His odour was probably closer to a sweaty dog than human, and he had the beginnings of a patchy beard. He allowed himself a small smile, wishes were few and far between in the current day, especially wishes for more time.
A knock on the door made him jump up from his seat. Taking a deep, calming breath, he sat back down. He was a Blue mage now, most people who weren't high level government officials or the few aristocrats that still had land and power, had to listen to him. When he was sure his emotions were under control, he said, “Come in.”
A young woman, a Lleial warrior, judging by her clothes, scars, and the pistol and sabre at her waist, entered the room. Her eyes pierced him, and he was certain that she would gut him as quickly as he'd swat a fly, if he annoyed her. She moved to stand beside the door, clearly standing guard. Another Lleial followed her, a man this time, who was missing an eye. He took a position on the other side of the doorway.
Then the Necromancer strode in. The young woman, barely an adult, held herself with an authority that few people ever achieved in life. She demanded people's attention with every movement. Her clothes were made of shadow cloth which was practically a taboo on the continent and hideously expensive everywhere. They didn't look like any fashion he could place, with tight fitting pants that would have been scandalous in better times. A long shirt with billowy sleeves, was belted at the waist, and hung halfway down her thighs to form something like a short skirt. The geas tattoos formed intricate designs on the back of her hands, around her neck, and forehead. Short, light brown hair mostly covered the markings on her scalp. If he didn't know better, he'd have guessed the woman was a foreign princess from another continent.
“Good afternoon, Mage Keir,” he said, rising from his chair. “I'm Blue Mage Aleksandar Stojanovski. Please have a seat, I'm sorry I don't have any refreshments, I just arrived and got the office.”
The woman smiled thinly, taking a seat. She would never be called beautiful, but she was comely, especially when she smiled. He resisted the urge to shake his head in confusion. The mental image he had of the Necromancer Keir, created from the numerous portraits from his life, did not match the person who sat across from him.
“You may call me Mage Keira. It's a more appropriate name for my new appearance,” the Necromancer said.
The soft voice was as unexpected as her appearance. There was a touch of power behind it, a steel fist wrapped in a silk glove, but she sounded more like a school teacher or a healer, than a former emperor and warlord.
“Ah... certainly, Mage Keira. I'm the liaison from the Eldritch Council. Since that this region is largely under Council control, it was deemed critical that I come here to see what's required for the spring campaign. While our resources are stretched, with a few months notice, we can provide men, war materials, and basic supplies.” Now that he was going over his planned notes, he began to feel far calmer about the situation.
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Keir
The liaison had bureaucrat written all over him.
That wasn't an insult. Keir knew bureaucrats were necessary, good ones could keep a country running when almost everything was falling apart, but there were good ones and bad ones. He didn't know where this one stood, and a good bureaucrat for the Council could be terrible for him.
He had one advantage at least, Aleksandar was thrown off by his appearance. It could be from fear or from being face to face with a pretty young woman instead of a monster. If he had more experience as a woman, Kier could have used it to his advantage. He had known many women who could make most sane, sensible men, act like fools with nothing but a few words and a smile. He was willing to admit that he'd fallen for those tricks once or twice.
Unfortunately he didn't know how to do it, and likely wouldn't be able to bring himself to do it even if he did know how. It was probably for the best anyways. The man would likely have a heart attack from terror if the Evil Necromancer started flirting with him.
“Well, Mage Aleksandar," he said, keeping his voice low to appear less threatening, "I am not in charge of logistics or the army. I'm simply doing what I can to help the war effort to the best of my... rather extensive abilities.”
“Right, of course,” the bureaucrat said. “Still you are the reason that any organized resistance still exists. You must have some ideas for the coming year.”
He'd played the humble servant, now it was time to make himself useful. “Very well. The demons have left the region out of fear of the dead. I've been told that this is a common tactic when facing a new threat. By spring they'll have an idea on how to face my ghosts and undead. Even if it merely through weight of numbers. Staying here is not feasible.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“So you want to go to the coast?”
Shaking his head, he said, “No, that would be giving the demons the initiative. Currently I have over five-hundred-thousand undead purging this region of demons.”
Aleksandar turned ghostly white. “Five-hundred-thousand!”
“That's correct.”
“How did you do that in such a short time?”
“I performed a ritual I'd designed before I died. It worked exactly as I'd planned.” That was a little bit of a lie, but he wasn't about to admit it if he didn't have too.
The bureaucrat wiped his brow. “Those undead are the strange types I saw coming here? The giant ones and the laughing ghosts.”
“Some of them. The sheer amount of death that's occurred has opened up new areas of necromancy that will take time to study. By spring I'm certain I'll have some new tricks to use against the demons.”
“So if you don't want to defend this area, and you don't want to go to the coast, what do you propose?”
Keir raised the status of the bureaucrat up a little. The man was at least willing to listen, which was a very good sign. “All the civilians will head through the pass. They will be safer on the coast and they'll only slow us down here. The Undying Army, with new weapons, especially the machine guns and light artillery will be a mobile force. We'll be moving constantly, using the undead to carry supplies and men in place of living draft beasts. That will allow us to move quickly, while staying relatively rested. Ghosts and the dead will keep any demon scouts on their toes and away from us.
“We'll pick our battlefields carefully, luring them into killing zones, where we have the advantage. Then, leaving behind some of the undead, we'll break off before they can bring enough forces to overwhelm us, and disappear again. We're going to bleed the demons as much as we can. I know they can be frightened. I want them to see this entire region as a charnel house, where they will only find death.”
“And then what?”
“Then we advance, doing the same thing all the way to the Crystal Mountains. While the Undying Army is doing that, the pass to the coast can be improved, farmland, mills and mines can be made far behind the new lines. What we need from the coast is threefold. First a steady stream of weapons, ammo and supplies will be sent to fortified redoubts where we can resupply between fights. Second, we need mages, preferably new ones, the Brown Mages who have just passed their exams. My students will teach them the basics of necromancy, and they'll be sent to the front to create new soldiers. And third, trained soldiers who know how to ride and march. We're going to be a fast moving force, if they can't march all day and ride a horse when we have to run, they're useless to us. I've talked about this extensively with General Ajani and Colonel Moreno, they have the exact plan written out and are working out how it will work. I'm a fair hand at overall strategy, but they're the experts when it comes to battlefield tactics.”
Aleksandar nodded, seemingly in understanding. He still looked a little shocked, but he was clearly thinking about the plan. Then he started chewing on his lip. “What if the Eldritch Council asks you to head for the coast? We could use your dead at the front lines.”
“Send me mages. I'll train them to be necromancers before the first thaw, and they can do the job. A mediocre mage can create a hundred basic dead a day. The front lines are static, any breakthrough will just be swarmed by demons, so at best you'll advance the line a few miles before you have to dig in again,” Keir said. He'd read the reports on the trench style of fighting. While it was an effective defence, it wouldn't defeat the demons. In a war of attrition, the demons always won eventually.
He didn't give the bureaucrat a chance to object. “Here we have an opportunity to keep the war fluid. There are enough of my dead to keep them from swarming us. If they try, we'll know days in advance and flee the area, leaving behind expendable undead to ambush them and wear them down. They need to eat, we'll strip the land bare, surviving on our supplies and the enemy. We can travel at night with undead horses and oxen, while the men sleep in the saddle or wagons. They can't. As more necromancers are trained we can expand our reach, creating similar forces. In two to three years we won't just control the coast, but the entire northeastern part of the continent.”
“And if you fail?”
“The dead are expendable. I can throw all of them at the demons, while the living part of the Undying Army escapes to the coast. I'm stubborn, but my army was called the Undying because we knew when to retreat. The undead can be be replaced, the living core must survive.”
Aleksandar nodded again. “I'll look over the details of the plan and pass it on to the Eldritch Council. I trust you'll follow orders if they disagree with your plan and request you come to the coast to help with the defences there?”
Keeping a straight face, Keir nodded. “I'm no longer an emperor. I will strongly object, but I understand the necessity of following orders.”
He had absolutely no intention of following any orders that sent him to the coast. If he went to the 'safety' of the Eldritch Council, at best he would be in a gilded cage, with no chance of freedom. At worst, there would be an assassination by demons, or a perfectly ordinary accident. Maybe they'd have him write a suicide note and hang himself to be with his family again.
“Very well. You've given me quite a bit to think about for my report, I'm sure my superiors will be very interested in it. Now I'm sure you have other duties to attend to, so unless you have questions for me, I think we're done here.”
“I need to get back to my students, so this is a good place to leave off. But don't hesitate to call for me if you need anything, we need to work together if we want to survive,” Keir said, smiling like he actually meant every word of it.
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City of Cristal Fleche
Erebu Continent
Elder Sister Otillie
The airship was a masterpiece of engineering.
Sister Otillie had seen balloons before, they were mostly toys for the rich, and brought out during festivals before the war, when anyone with a few coins could go into the sky and look down at the world as if they were a bird. But the airship was unlike any balloon she had ever seen.
The oval shaped balloon was sheathed in metal, protecting it from the claws of any demon that might attack. A large gondola was welded to the frame, the flying demons wouldn't be able to rip it off even if they could get close enough. Pneumatic guns bristled from the gondola ready to shoot anything that came within a mile of the flying machine.
Protective runes were etched into every sheet of metal, making it more durable. A few holy symbols were painted on it as well. Calling on the Mother and Father for support couldn't hurt. And on both sides of the gondola, painted in large dark red letters, was the name of the ship, 'The Thorn'.
Men untied the thick mooring lines, allowing The Thorn to rise into the air. The onlookers, who numbered in the thousands cheered. Raising her hands, Sister Otillie called out a blessing. Her voice was drowned out by the shouting.
She didn't take it personally. The hollow cheeked, ragged mob of people were desperate for hope, and this was their one chance at survival. No one knew what the airship crew would find in the city of Kodor, but they all hoped and prayed it would be good news.
As the mages directed the winds to raise the airship more quickly into the sky, the priestess whispered a prayer to the gods she couldn't quite believe in. Silently, she begged Mother Sun and Father Moon to finally send them help.