Kyle drew in a deep breath as he stepped up to the large gate, the box holding the treaty documents held in his arms, with the stacked discs from the first shrike nest stacked on top. The carriage just dropped him off, and he went over the plan in his head for what felt like the hundredth time. Drokh’s words proved prophetic, and this would be no simple delivery.
When he returned from the hospital the previous afternoon, a new message was waiting, inviting Kyle to a formal War Room discussion. The expectation was clear; Kyle was to attend, offer neutral input as an unbiased party, and then present the documents for review before leaving the meeting hall. Kyle wasn’t sure what type of political maneuvering could be driving the decision, but after his disregard for protocol during his escort to Railen’s Hope, he felt it would be best to play along.
Rather than continuing their training, C.H.A.D.D. pulled up every relevant document from his Practicum, in addition to all the Courier’s Guild policies and procedures. He reviewed everything he could, and with C.H.A.D.D. as a sounding board felt pretty good about their path forward. Just like a medical brief, his goal was to simply stick to facts. When put up against the best political schemers the Resistance had to offer, Kyle truly felt he was best served by being boring.
While it wasn’t an often-used feature anymore, the drone’s repository of Earth medical records and protocol came in handy. C.H.A.D.D. had Kyle recount their various experiences since arriving on Er’Mithren, and compared the language to older briefs. The result was an incredibly dry, factual telling of every noteworthy event he’d experienced since his arrival.
Just as he let the breath out, a gruff voice sounded out from behind the gate. “Courier, we have been expecting you. Please, enter.”
The heavy doors slid open with the scraping groan of stone on stone, and Kyle stepped through. He was met by a small retinue of armed guards, though like his initial arrival they were all in E Grade, and not particularly powerful. Kyle assumed it was more for show than any actual security measure, which he was certain would be closer to D’Oillelat.
The interior of the Resistance Headquarters was well-lit, with crystals embedded in the walls on regular intervals, giving off a gentle, warm glow. They walked past rows of offices where goblins, trolls, and ogres alike milled about, poring over documents and speaking in animated tones. From the bits and pieces Kyle picked up, this group seemed to be involved with the shrike scouting parties that Hanastrel and Ver’ah had joined, though these people operated in a purely support capacity.
Kyle couldn’t help but remember his escort through the Verdant Republic teleporters as he was whisked through narrow hallways and down flights of stairs, moving closer to the heart of the compound. Whether it was cultural or a matter of practical application, the goblinoids sure knew how to build a confusing compound. Without the proper tools, an invading force would be hard-pressed to make it to the heart of the compound without taking major losses. Each of the narrow hallways created tactical advantages that crafty defenders could make use of.
After winding across the compound for nearly an hour, Kyle finally stood before a large metal gate. 2 D Grade ogres stood guard on either side, each just a little weaker than Ver’ah if Identify could be believed. His escorts stopped, bowing first to the guards, then to Kyle.
“We will wait outside to guide you back to the entrance. We wish you well, Courier.”
Kyle returned their bow with a gentle nod. “Thank you for your assistance, it is greatly appreciated.” Turning to the guards, he met each of their eyes before giving his practiced speech. “I’m here to meet with Her Majesty D’Oillelat, with documents from the Er’Mithren Council. May I enter?”
The ogres shared a look, then as one, rested their palms against inscribed sigils on either side of the gate. Steel scraped against steel as the heavy gate opened, revealing an audience chamber beyond. The ogre on the left gestured for him to enter. “Head in. You’ve got a grasp on the stakes; we aren’t going to hold you up with pleasantries. Her Majesty has been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Thank you,” Kyle said, his sensory skills on full alert as he stepped into the chamber. There were over a dozen people already inside, comprised of a variety of ogre, troll, and goblin men and women gathered around a round central meeting table. There was no throne, no clear head of the table, but Kyle had no problem picking D’Oillelat out of the crowd.
He wasn’t sure walking in what species the Resistance Queen belonged to, and the answer appeared to be none of them. Her facial features were largely goblinoid, with a slim build and sharp, angular chin and cheekbones. Unlike her goblin kin, however, she stood at nearly troll height; a little taller than Kyle himself. A wild mane of red hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and the nubs of 2 small tusks protruded above her lower lip, a common feature of the ogres Kyle met.
Of course, her appearance wasn’t the only thing that gave her away. While there were a few other awakened in the room, nobody else compared to D’Oillelat. Auric Perception let him feel the powerful mana flowing around her, which he confirmed with a single glance with Identify. She was stronger than Drokh by a wide margin, with attributes that defied reason. Kyle couldn’t help but think about Arhades when evaluating her. Her Strength seemed wildly out of place with her slim build, her Vitality would put most trolls to shame, and her mental attributes were up there with the strongest goblins Kyle had encountered. In a word, she was powerful.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The group was talking animatedly, but the discussion stopped as he walked in. Kyle gave a polite bow before introducing himself. “Greetings. My name is Kyle Mayhew, and I’m here –“
Before he could finish, D’Oillelat spoke up. “Yeah, we know who you are and why you’re here. Ancestors above, you look odd. Now come, sit down. We have a few things to discuss, then we’ll look at whatever the Council put together for us.”
Kyle was a little taken aback by her casual demeanor, but did as he was asked. There was a bit of a shuffle taking place at the large table to free up a troll-sized chair, and Kyle found himself sitting directly across from D’Oillelat. Her dark brown eyes met his for a moment, seeming to take his measure.
“Tell me, Courier, what do you know about shrikes?” D’Oillelat asked.
“They’re dangerous predators, typically travel in smaller packs, and that alphas can lead larger groups.”
“Not incorrect, but missing important information.” She gestured to one of the goblins sitting nearby, who pulled out what looked like a flute made of stone. D’Oillelat grabbed it, holding it up for Kyle to see as she continued. “Shrikes are certainly some of our world’s apex hunters, but our histories tell of a time when they used to be domesticated. Entire classes and paths of progression were dedicated to hunting with them, training them, and raising them. Our biologists theorized that their shared instinct may have its origins in some of the skills the Ancestors used with them.
“When our world fell into its dark age, the specifics of how we managed their domestication were lost. This flute is one of the precious few relics that remain that give any clues. The mana it produces when infused carries suggestions, and the rune work served as the foundation for the wards we established around Resistance territory, a suggestion that keeps them and other dangerous beasts outside.”
Kyle nodded, following along so far. The significance of the information she’d casually shared confirmed the cultural significance of Er’Mithren to the Verdant Republic as well. To have records that likely dated back to their empire’s fall or earlier was well beyond the expectations Kyle had coming in. He could easily picture the Verdant Republic scribes and historians teleporting to Er’Mithren the moment he finished his report, any consequences completely ignored as they learned as much as they could.
Of course, the main implication of what D’Oillelat was saying wasn’t lost on Kyle either. If the wards were as robust as she made them sound, there was something else driving the shrike activity near them. Something, or someone.
“So, if I’m hearing you correctly, you suspect that a member of the Council has discovered a similar means to at least partially influence the shrikes,” Kyle said.
“I sincerely doubt that they have a means for real influence,” D’Oillelat replied. “But I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume they’ve at least found methods to nullify the effect of my wards.”
Kyle agreed with her assessment. He had looked into Beast Tamer classes before as a possible means to help C.H.A.D.D. improve. However, during his studies with Jarberry, he learned that most of these types of classes had pretty severe drawbacks, particularly tied to the power disparity between the Beast Tamer and the creatures they used. Compared to paths like Ma’Sai, who could seal creatures of similar or greater power, Beast Tamers felt pretty lackluster.
To meaningfully control a pack of shrikes, much less an alpha, would probably require somebody near the apex of D Grade at least, most likely into the early stages of C Grade. And if the Er’Mithren Council had a C Grade at their disposal, there would have been no need to negotiate a peace in the first place. He remembered the stories his grandfather told him about the Originators; how a mere 7 people brought all of Earth under their control. Definitely not the kind of power the Council has, Kyle thought. Besides, it didn’t fit with the bait box he found.
Kyle took the discs he recovered from the first shrike nest, and set them on the table. “My first encounter with shrikes was just outside of Prindas, where they’d been left to prey upon the population for quite a while. I found these slates, as well as a box that looked to have been used to hold bait for the creatures.”
The ogre next to Kyle reached out for the discs, examining them before passing them toward D’Oillelat. Others did the same, and she looked at a goblin about halfway across the table with exasperation. “Ner’has, why did you pass these down? You know that I’m going to give them right back to you so you can find out what’s on them.”
The goblin looked at her sheepishly. “I apologize, Your Majesty. Everyone was passing them, and I thought you might like to see them, Your Majesty.”
D’Oillelat put her face in her hands. “You don’t have to apologize, just take the damn discs.”
There was a flurry of motion as the discs were passed back along to Ner’has, with many mumbled apologies and “Your Majesty-s” thrown around.
With that done, D’Oillelat’s expression grew serious once again. “There were good people in Prindas, Courier. I take it you killed the shrikes?”
Kyle nodded. “I did.”
D’Oillelat continued, having expected his answer. “We lost touch with a couple of agents there over a year ago, with our only remaining contacts in the city placed in the city guard. We thought the shrike activity was strange, and your report confirms it. You’re certain they used bait?”
“I can’t be completely certain, but the box used enchantments I was familiar with. One of them was designed to amplify and waft the scent from whatever was inside, and given it was at the bottom of their pile of trophies I’d say the odds are good.”
D’Oillelat nodded. “That tells us a lot, too. On behalf of the Resistance, I do want to thank you for your contribution to this discussion and the provided context. We still have a lot to figure out, but this was helpful. Now, you didn’t come here to talk about our shrike problems. I believe you have some documents for me?”
Kyle passed the inscribed box, which once again exchanged hands as it went to D’Oillelat. She infused some mana into it, and the box popped open, revealing a holographic set of documents that she began to review.
Kyle’s skin tingled as he felt… something through Auric Perception. It was subtle, but something had shifted slightly in the room. Frowning, he activated Identify, and his blood ran cold. With the box open, a new set of runic symbols had formed from the patterns on the back of the lid and the side. Runes Kyle recognized from the teleporter he’d arrived on.
Kyle just completed his delivery, a bomb handed right to the leader of the Resistance.