Not one to waste time, General Branson started his briefing the moment his projection appeared in the Hall of Leadership. His face hovered above the center of the room, the projection displaying him on each side of a large square holographic box. Every person of influence in Dorchester was present, nobles and near-nobles alike. They all were silent as the man in charge of protecting their city began to speak.
The general’s voice was loud, and it echoed around the massive room, “Before I get into the requisition authorizations we’ll need, I’ll begin with a brief update on our situation. I’m sure you’ve all been reading the reports, casualty projections, and strategy suggestions, but the past 30 hours have been hectic, and I’d prefer if we confine this meeting to the facts and the army’s immediate needs.”
The leadership council all nodded, eager to hear the comprehensive status update they’ve been waiting for. It was understandable that the general was unable to do so before now, but if they were to help, they needed to know what was going on. There was only so much they could learn from the general intelligence they’d been receiving through the army’s updates on the Thought-hub.
Below the general’s hovering projection, a 3d model of the massive mountain appeared. The detail was immaculate, and they all watched as the exterior became translucent. The outline of the interior fortifications and tunnels was clearly displayed. From the central pathway through the mountain gate, they saw the various levels going both down into the depths, and up through the mountain. Several tunnels with exits protruding to the surface were highlighted, most of those were green, while others were varying shades of red.
The general’s voice narrated what they were seeing, “During our initial efforts to reopen the underground city, mountain teams 4, 5, and 9 came into conflict with what we initially thought were kobald scouting parties. After quickly eliminating them, our priority was intelligence gathering. After all, the entire complex was supposed to be locked down. We attempted scrying and essence scanning, but what the mages were seeing wasn’t what was actually down there. So, we were forced to send teams down to visually inspect the tunnels. Unfortunately, what we found was a coordinated response that nearly wiped out our investigative forces.”
While several sections started flashing, highlighting the areas where the early conflicts occured, several more projections appeared. Each one was showing a memory engram from some of the members of the mountain teams that were part of the initial battles.
The general’s grim voice continued on, “After pulling back, we reinforced the mountain gate as a precaution against invasion. At this time, the kobalds have been repelled, and our line is holding. Enemy numbers are still unknown, but several scouts were able to get deep enough to give us some idea of what we’re dealing with.”
The projections changed to show that several of the large caverns which had once housed their ancestors now had been repurposed into kobald dens on a scale which boggled the mind. Massive stone pillars had been erected, each with numerous hollows filled with flickering torches. The structures stretched to the ceiling, indicating thousands upon thousands of kobalds. At their base, forests of misshapen trees which been adapted to live in underground environments covered what was once farmland. The overhead essence lights remained unpowered, leaving the images shrouded in shadow.
“We weren’t able to get too deep, these images are only from sub level 5. Even more concerning, we were unable to retrieve any intelligence concerning what was happening on the higher floors. But all of this leads us to believe that the kobalds have taken over the mountain city. Until we know more, their civilization will be treated as a class 6 threat,” his tone was ominous, leaving no question as to the seriousness of the situation.
Lord Cosgrave’s voice interrupted him, “How do we know they’ve progressed to a class 6? Do you have reason to believe that they have access to planar gates or totemic magic?”
Seemingly unbothered by the question, the general replied, “We have no direct evidence, but if the population numbers are anywhere near what we think they are, then it’s incredibly unlikely that they haven’t made contact with their brethren in the elemental planes. Also, they’re advanced enough to be interfering with our ranged intelligence gathering. Whether it’s a mirror ward, illusionary great-magic, or something we’ve never heard of, there is no way for us to see what’s happening down there. So, for now, we’re treating their existence as a city-killer.”
Everyone in the chamber knew what that meant. If they were unable to stop them, Populators would come and wipe their city, the mountain, and most of the surrounding area, clear off the map. Hopefully, they’d at least evacuate them all first. Oglivarch wouldn’t stand for a threat of this magnitude to exist within its borders.
After giving the room a minute to process the peril they were in, the general’s tone snapped them all back to reality. “We’ve already dealt with almost all of the known egress points out of the mountain, and teams are currently eliminating anything they find on the surface. For now, they’ve been contained. Our next step is to go in and dig them out. The area around the mountain gate has been repurposed for the army’s use, and divisions are being assembled as we speak.”
Looks of appreciation and relief were seen on everyone’s faces. That was great news, and boded well for the chances of Dorchester making it through this crisis in one piece.
Calm and collected, the general continued, “What we need going forward is your support and resources. If you open the briefing packet you’ve been sent, we’ll begin with what we need from the Guard…”
While the general outlined what the army needed, he made sure to highlight what was required for the city to function while their forces were embattled with the threat. For the time being, Dorchester would have to deal with the refugees and the density shift on its own.
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Unsurprisingly, they made great time back to Dorchester. In fact, once they emerged from the wilds, their brisk jog transitioned into an uncomfortable run. He’d been up forever, and despite not being in any of the fights, his little legs were still struggling to keep up with the soldiers. The occasional 15 minute breaks, and ration bars, had done very little to offset the pain of running for an entire night, and a good portion of the next day.
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Nero panted, forcing himself to keep pace with the group. Although he couldn’t see anything other than the elite warriors double-timing it all around him, his psychic field gave him a nice overview of what was happening.
Captain Angelton was at the front of the formation, and he quickly led them to the nearest road. Once there, one of the sergeants cast some kind of spell that started blaring a sound which was eerily similar to a siren. The captain broke everyone into columns, and the elites made their way past shocked civilians currently heading toward Dorchester. Nero was surprised to see so many wagons and families filling the wide road.
‘This must be the fantasy equivalent of a motorcade for emergency vehicles. Funny, I don’t feel like a fire engine,’ he thought to himself, trying to diffuse his mounting tension.
As they sped along, he ran his senses over the civilians which were hurriedly getting out of their way. Aside from a few notable standouts, they all looked rather dingy, and kinda weak. It was like their essence fields were almost non-existent. He couldn’t understand what he was seeing. People who were level 20 weren’t uncommon, were they?
Unfortunately, he was moving too fast to get a really good look at anyone, so his questions remained unanswered. Besides, he was more focused on making sure that he stayed upright, as the last thing he needed was to be trampled by the soldiers bringing up the rear.
Suddenly, the image of one of the larger elites throwing him over their shoulder and carrying him like a sack of potatoes flashed across his mind, and he shivered at the potential shame. It wasn’t impossible, they were pretty much all super-humans. ‘Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,’ he thought, then refocused on running.
Eventually they got close enough to Dorchester to connect to the local Thought-hub. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and activated his link. As usual, there were a ton of pings waiting for him to deal with. Most of them were from Vera, but there were some surprises in there too. He had received a few bank statements, a notice from the arena that they were temporarily suspending events, and even a few pings from Victoria Blackwood. ‘What the hell does she want?’ he wondered.
Opening the message, he almost stumbled when he read the contents. According to the first ping, she wanted to create closer ties with House Walker, and she requested a dinner when he had the time. The next ping was from a few hours later, and she politely retracted the invitation while applauding him for his service with the elites. She went on to say that the invitation remained open, and whenever he had time, he should contact her directly, as she looked forward to working together for the betterment of Dorchester.
‘What a load of shit,’ he thought.
Ignoring the blatant political double-speak, he just forwarded the pings to Vera. She would deal with them at some point.
Realizing what he’d just done, he winced. It was never a good idea to send a woman a message without first checking what they’d already sent him. Immediately, he started going through the multiple pings in his backlog. Some of them were still there from before he had his dinner at the keep. It was like seeing a record of his time in Dorchester narrated by an angry soccer-mom.
His thoughts bounced around as he read through the pings, ‘There’s the one where she warned me to behave in front of the nobles. Oh, she was really pissed about the whole assassination thing, huh. Wait, that’s from the first time someone tried to kill me. Yup, there’s the record of the bet she made on my behalf with the arena. Then, this one is about the training schedule… blah, blah, blah. Huh, she took over the estate I own? Cool. I need to get over there at some point. Holy crap, I have a lot of employees. When the hell did I tell her to start a mercenary company?’
Nero’s mind was reeling as he went through them. There was so much information that he had been ignoring that he felt like an absentee father hearing about his kid’s accomplishments from the nanny. House Walker was growing and thriving, all while he’d been off in the wilds getting his ass kicked.
Nero kept reading, finally going through all the paperwork and records Vera had been sending him. He noted a few pings from people he hadn’t met yet, recognizing their names from Vera’s pings. There was his household manager, Vance Lester, who was currently maintaining his estate. Some lady named Joanne Upton, who was the new director of Walker Security Contractors, or WSC. There really were too many pings from people he didn’t know, all of whom were sending him updates concerning their work on his behalf.
He was so enthralled by what he was reading, he didn’t notice that the column was coming to a stop. His thoughts were brought out of his link when he face planted into the backpack of the soldier in front of him.
Stuttering to a stop, Nero grabbed his bleeding nose. ‘Son of a bitch!’ he thought in annoyance.
Panting hard, he looked up at the tired faces of the surrounding soldiers, wondering what was going on. They were all staring forward, calmly waiting for something to happen. Focusing on his essence field, he tried to see what was happening at the front of the formation.
He realized what was going on almost immediately. The incredibly tall walls were almost blinding his mental senses. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t notice they were enchanted. I need to start paying closer attention. How do main characters handle all this crap happening at the same time. Where the hell is my helper fairy, or my A.I. companion? My old life was defined by me constantly playing catch-up, and this one isn’t turning out much better,’ he lamented.
Now that he was paying closer attention, he was able to see when they were given leave to enter the city. Barely having been given enough time to catch his breath, they were back to running again.
‘Hopefully we’ll be given some time to rest before we get sent into the mountain to fight the lizards… dogs? What the hell do kobalds look like here. All I’m getting from the word is a vague concept of an animal-like enemy that could either be short, tall, hairy, or smooth. Maybe my translation system is broken,’ he bitched in his mind.
Seeing the sun being replaced by the ceiling of the gate’s tunnel, Nero felt like things were only going to get worse before he got any answers.
Emerging from the tunnel, Nero saw how the upcoming war had affected the average citizen. Gone were the smiles and easy going attitudes. The courtyard was nearly empty, but there were still a few people going about their business. Yet, now there was an undercurrent of defiance hanging in the air. It was surprising, because he’d figured there would be more fear and panic. But, it kind of made sense considering that they’ve been living their entire lives behind enemy lines. Just past the walls there was death, eagerly waiting to claim them.
On that cheery note, Nero focused on where they were heading. Their columns ran through the city, past the gate compound and straight toward a large warehouse. It was around two stories tall, and made of solid gray stone. To Nero, it looked like a storage facility for all the crap no one wanted in their houses, but they were too lazy to get rid of. It even had a gate surrounding the property, as if the owners wanted to advertise that there was something inside worth stealing. The wide wooden doors were thrown open, and soldiers stood by at the entrance with what looked like clipboards.
Happy to finally be walking again, Nero put his hands on his hips and tilted his head back in relief while trying to catch his breathe. Not really caring where they were going, he followed the soldier in front of him without paying much attention. That was, until he noticed that they were all being herded toward a teleportation platform. In groups of ten, the surrounding soldiers dissipated into flashes of golden light.
‘Please tell me we aren’t going to the front lines right away? Shouldn’t we get a meal, a bed, and maybe an introduction to a local girl enamored with the idea of sleeping with a soldier heading off to war? Where is the send-off for the heroes or whatever? Can’t I at least take a nap?’ he wondered, the confusion on his face clear for all to see.
Unfortunately, no one was paying any attention to him at the moment. Therefore, the astra-platform technician didn’t have any issues with sending the little lord and his surrounding elites hurtling through the ether despite Nero’s grievances.