Chapter 1

“Il-Enxoc.”

“Il-Enxoc.”

A claw poked Xoc in the ribs.

“Gyah!” She started, “Wh-What is it?”

“They’re calling for you, il-Enxoc,” her father said.

They’re always doing that.

“I’d appreciate it if everyone didn’t arbitrarily promote me,” Xoc said.

“But it is only right, il-Enxoc,” the first speaker, a Lup named Hgroli said.

“Enhgroli is right,” the second speaker, a Gao named Rrhal growled. “The ruler of Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr cannot possibly be a minor chief. Our city and the territories adjacent to it are expansive enough to match those of the warrior clans. You are a queen in your own right!”

Xoc’s tail lashed over the basalt pavement of her court. The evening had barely begun and they were already fawning over her.

“I’m not the Queen of Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr yet,” she told them. “Not even remotely.”

Hushed discussion rose in the wake of her statement. Her throne, which was raised over the clanhold’s high court, not only afforded her a view of everyone gathered, but also somehow allowed her to hear everything that was being said. There was far too much focus on the ‘queen’ and ‘yet’ part.

Over the past few weeks, things hadn’t played out as Xoc had expected. Xigaoli, whom Xoc had considered her biggest obstacle to achieving stability on her side of the city, had been defeated and no one had seen or heard from him since his unfortunate collision with a certain ball of fluff. Rather than the slumlord’s downfall quelling her gang problem, however, Xigaloi’s goons instead shattered into many smaller gangs as if they were a hive of Canopy Shriekers.

The ensuing chaos and confusion sucked up all of Xoc’s time and energy. She was able to keep things orderly on her side of the river, but, in the end, the small gangs on the far side of Xigaoli’s former territory had been gobbled up by the neighbouring major gang and she had been left with a handful of smaller gangs on her border that at least made the motions of submitting to her authority. As far behind as events had put her, she didn’t mind allowing them to maintain order along her southern border.

“See?” Rrhal said, “Everyone knows that this will be so. It is inevitable!”

The only inevitable thing will be my whiskers falling out from stress.

“Enrrhal speaks truly,” Hgroli snapped his jaws in affirmation. “The outcome is obvious. Those still hesitant to join us either submit to ocelo Pa’chan, or they starve.”

“Or they will be consumed by the Demon’s fire!”

Xoc concealed her displeasure at their energetic statements. The two clearly hadn’t submitted to her out of any sense of loyalty, nor had they joined her out of concern for their fellow Beastmen. They simply wanted power – they had even gone ahead and started styling one another as lords. She wondered if members of other races could stand doing something so embarrassingly presumptuous.

“So,” she said, “why have you come?”

“People are crossing into our territories from the south, il-Enxoc,” Rrhal said.

“I said it was fine to let them in, didn’t I?” Xoc asked.

“You did. The problem is that the other gangs are accusing us of stealing their people.”

The two gang leaders flinched as Xoc flicked her ear. Of course they would say something like that. Who would they have to extort if everyone left?

“What have they done so far?” Xoc asked.

“Nothing to us,” Rrhal answered. “At most, their thugs prowl the borders and bare their fangs whenever our people come close.”

“They’re trying to keep people from coming over, though,” Hgroli said.

“How?” Xoc asked, “As big as the other gangs are now, they still don’t have enough people to constantly keep an eye on all of their borders.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Hgroli said lightly. “You just take their cubs into safekeeping.”

Would it be alright for me to kick this guy?

She felt that she should on principle. He replied so casually that she didn’t doubt he had resorted to similar measures in the past. They couldn’t be allowed to do anything of the sort if they claimed to be under her.

On the seating below and to Xoc’s left, Master Leeds cleared his throat.

“You mentioned an influx of migrants,” he said, “We haven’t received any orders to reflect this.”

Hgroli and Rrhal exchanged confused looks.

“They were made welcome and directed to the places that we were instructed to send them,” Rrhal said. “Your markets are safe and plentiful; what is there to take issue with?”

“Those safe and plentiful markets still need inventories delivered to them,” Master Leeds replied. “If a thousand people show up unanticipated or unreported, that’s a thousand people’s worth of supplies we’ll be short. We’re going to end up with empty stalls and that’s bound to make everyone panic with how things have been recently. Wait, you’re city folk: shouldn’t you know how…”

Master Leeds sent a look over his shoulder at Xoc. She shook her head in return. Maybe the gangs in the Draconic Kingdom were more sophisticated, but gangs in Rol’en’gorek treated their territories like replacement hunting grounds. What was there was what there was.

“There’s no point in lingering on this,” Chimali’s placating voice rose from beside Master Leeds. “I believe that our new friends are genuinely interested in leading their people well: they are merely unaccustomed to how we do things. Enhgroli; Enrrhal, send me two subordinates that you trust. I can teach them how to handle this for you. It would be best if you choose ones with a good head for numbers.”

Xoc draped her tail over her lap and fidgeted with it as Chimali calmed the two would-be lords down and coaxed them to cooperate with him. A squeamish feeling always filled her whenever he wormed his way into people’s good graces.

“Il-Enxoc.”

She looked down to find Elder Patli addressing her from his seat with the other prominent clan elders.

Not you, too…

“What is it, Patli?”

“Disputes over, hm…agricultural development are on the rise.”

“…I don’t know what that means.”

“For practical reasons,” the mystic told her, “we must build our fungus farms along a certain course through our territory. It wasn’t a problem before, but now that people are beginning to grasp the boon this new industry brings, they all wish to take part.”

Why does it have to go from one extreme to the other?

She had to risk herself in the fighting pits just to help Elder Patli pay for his research; now everyone wanted a piece of it. The clan would have been much better off if everyone had helped out in the first place.

“It’s nice that they’re embracing what we’re doing now,” Xoc said, “but it’s like you mentioned, right? Our fungus farms are being built along practical lines.”

“The problem is that some people have decided to come up with their own definition of ‘practical’,” Elder Patli said.

“Which is…?”

“They perceive an opportunity and wish to seize it. For the sake of maintaining the health of the jungle, however, we only consider specific areas of our territory qualified for this type of development.”

“So ‘unqualified’ territory doesn’t mean that you can’t make a fungus farm there?”

Elder Patli made a helpless gesture.

“Plants and fungi grow so long as the conditions are good enough. To many, that means our fungus farms can be built in any available space. We’ve hired thousands of people to help build the farms, so the concept is hardly unknown to the clansfolk.”

“Have you told them that we’re doing things the way that we are for the good of the land?” Xoc asked.

“Of course,” Elder Patli answered. “But, once again, they don’t agree with our decisions. There are accusations of corruption and oppression, amongst other things.”

“What? How do they figure?”

“Because we are getting in the way of what they want, I suppose,” the mystic sighed. “They claim that some are being favoured over others and I’m afraid that speculation over why that is only grows. Whenever we identify and dismantle an illegal farm, we’re the ones being blamed for destroying their hard work.”

How can they be so unreasonable? We’re all supposed to be in this together.

Deep inside, she already knew the answer. While the citizens of Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr kept their heads down around the clans whenever they showed up, the city hadn’t belonged to any clan for generations. The people were simply used to being able to do whatever they wanted and being responsible for their own success or failure.

Ironically, they were more than happy to rally behind her when the future was uncertain, but winning stability and progress for ocelo Pa’chan encouraged them to act independently against the clan’s wishes. Since they were unaccustomed to authority, her only real option was either to use force to keep them in line or figure out how to keep them busy.

“Everyone will have something to do eventually,” Xoc said. “We just can’t do it all at once. Is there anything more we can do to speed things up, Master Leeds?”

“We’re already out on a limb here, il-Enxoc,” the Guildmaster replied. “And it isn’t as if we’re focusing on agricultural development to the exclusion of all else. It’s just that agriculture forms the foundation of our economy and we can only leverage everything else to a certain extent. The insanely fast crop cycle here makes for already unprecedented growth, so the people won’t have to wait for long.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“And therein lies the flaw in our planning,” another elder said. “Our people are predators by nature, Master Leeds. We do not wait, we take. It is no shock that opportunities are pounced upon.”

“And there’s nothing inherently wrong with that,” Elder Patli said. “The problem is that it hurts us more than it helps in this case. We cannot turn the entire jungle into a fungus farm. The sites we have chosen are those that are already close to the ideal natural conditions for the cultivation of Blood Antlers. To do any more is too great a threat for the balance of the jungle.”

“Didn’t you say that this project also addresses growing sanitation issues?” Master Leeds asked.

“It does,” Elder Patli answered, “but that was a generations-long imbalance that we had to address. It is not an excuse to create new imbalances.”

“But population growth comes hand in hand with economic growth,” the Guildmaster noted.

“Why must growth be assumed? Rol’en’gorek is on the cusp of famine and this is the argument that you make?”

Eh? Are they fighting?

As far as she knew, they had been cooperating nicely since her bid to rebuild ocelo Pa’chan. There was little sign of the friction that she sensed between them now.

It took a moment for her to realise that everyone was looking up at her. What did they expect her to say?

“I don’t think we should be ruining our home,” she said, “and our mystics are responsible for keeping an eye on that sort of thing. Economic growth is nice and all, but it shouldn’t come at the cost of our long-term well-being.”

“Our short-term problems demand that we do everything possible to address them,” Master Leeds said. “We may have stabilised things somewhat around the clanhold, but this is only the beginning of our problems. Not long ago, you set forth to build a war machine that could stem the tide of the Jorgulan invasion. I’m afraid that adopting half measures at this juncture will only see everything that we’ve built served up to the Jorgulans on a silver platter.”

“We don’t know how things are going on the front,” Xoc said. “If we had a better idea about that…how is that shipment of equipment coming along?”

“We’ll have enough to merit a delivery in a day or so, il-Enxoc,” Master Leeds replied. “Chimali has volunteered to represent the interests of the Merchant Guild. Have you settled on someone to handle the political end?”

He makes it sound like a simple thing…

With the ordeal that they found themselves in, the ‘political end of things’ involved convincing all of Rol’en’gorek to prepare for the Undead threat festering in the Draconic Kingdom. On top of that, they also had to somehow get everyone else in the region to join the fight. That included stopping the invading Jorgulans and then working together with them.

Was that part even possible? The Jorgulans had every reason to believe that they were just making a desperate bid to keep their fangs away from their throats. For Rol’en’gorek’s part, it meant granting their enemies free access to their jungles so they could help fight the Undead. The fact that the Jorgulans’ true masters were Green Dragons made the entire plan seem insanely suicidal.

She had felt so strongly about what they needed to do after finding out what had happened in the Draconic Kingdom from Saraca, but strong feelings weren’t enough to make things go the way that they needed to.

“I was thinking our, um…industrial support would be enough to at least have Clan Ki’ra listen to what we have to say,” Xoc said. “Especially if we continue to send them equipment. Nothing I can think of would convince our ancestral enemies to band together with us against the Undead, though.”

“You’d think that an army of the Undead getting ready to eat us is reason enough,” Master Leeds muttered.

“As far as they’ll be concerned,” Xoc said, “it’s some faraway problem that they weren’t even aware of until we told them about it. We can’t expect everyone to stop what they’re doing and join us just because some stranger claims that it’s happening.”

“Then what happens if we can’t convince anyone to help?” One of the elders asked, “Do we fight one another until we are spent and the Undead take us all? What other options do we have?”

“We don’t have any other options,” Xoc answered. “We can’t run from this. If we go north, the tribes of the Worldspine will eat our frozen corpses. The Jorgulans wouldn’t let us pass any more than we would let them. If we go south, we’ll just shrivel up trying to cross the desert. If we can’t make our case to our neighbours, then there’s nowhere for us to go.”

“Even if we did,” Elder Patli added, “we wouldn’t be welcomed. Millions of Beastmen descending on an area would deplete its food reserves in no time. Rol’en’gorek is not merely a place where we live: it’s the only place where we can live. There is no choice but for us to fight.”

“And since fighting is our only choice,” Xoc said, “I want to increase our chances of holding off the Undead as much as possible. Speaking of which, did you speak to Ilaan about the thing we discussed, Master Leeds?”

The Guildmaster shook his head.

“It’s as I mentioned,” he told her. “Training a Priest takes years even with the right infrastructure in place. Ilaan said he doesn’t mind raising new disciples – he needs to do it anyway – but we won’t have enough to fight a war on the scale of that Undead invasion.”

“Then tell him he can start with that,” Xoc said. “Is his new shrine receiving enough donations?”

“That’s not a question I can answer,” Master Leeds replied. “The Temples aren’t normally affiliated with the Guilds and we’re talking about the security of the realm, besides.”

Xoc didn’t dislike the Soryo, but religion wasn’t a very big part of anyone’s life in Rol’en’gorek. Their gods were elemental forces of nature or aspects of life in the jungle, and they weren’t known for playing favourites or even demanding worship. For the most part, one did their best to not anger them, which mostly involved listening to the local mystics.

Human religion, on the other hand, was very different. Very different and very complicated. Her life was already complicated enough, so she was perfectly fine treating it as something that took care of itself.

“I’ll get around to him after this session sometime,” Xoc said. “I was just hoping he could put together a proposal before we spoke.”

“I’ll let him know, il-Enxoc,” Master Leeds lowered his head. “Oh, on that note, will the local mystics take issue with his activities if they extend beyond Humans?”

“…you mean he’s trying to turn my people into Buddhists?”

“I’m not sure if ‘trying’ is the right way to describe it,” the Guildmaster said. “He’s not an Evangelist from the Theocracy, after all. He simply shares his teachings with anyone who shows an interest. Practically speaking, the guild members that you brought here already have occupations, and it is traditional in Human society for children to take up their parents’ trade. His main source of disciples will have to be Beastmen.”

The elders seated around the court exchanged questioning looks between themselves. She could imagine what they were thinking going by the number of lowered tails and ears in the assembly.

“Patli,” one of them raised his voice to be heard, “what do the mystics think of this? Is this ‘Buddhism’ a threat to our way of life?”

Elder Patli seemed amused by her worried tone.

“On the contrary,” he said, “it appears to be highly complementary to our way of life. From what I’ve gathered from my discussions with the Ilaan, Buddhism doesn’t demand that we worship any Human gods – merely that we observe a set of easily understood principles.”

“And how are these principles observed?”

“By being at peace with what we are,” Elder Patli replied. “And not being what we aren’t. By being the best versions of ourselves, one may earn a better place in the great cycle of existence and eventually transcend it.”

“That almost sounds like what our mystics teach…”

“Aside from the last bit, yes. This ‘dharma’ of theirs may simply be an interpretation of what our mystics consider the natural order of the world. Furthermore, it seems to provide a way to navigate the new and unfamiliar – something that our mystics have long been struggling with in this city.”

“Are you endorsing this Human practice?”

“I’m not sure that it is a Human practice,” Elder Patli said. “According to Ilaan, Buddhism and the various practices related to it appeared many centuries ago across many different societies of different races. Most notably, these practices dominate the Beastman Confederacy, which is one of the great powers of the world. It would be difficult to say that we know better than they.”

The elders fell into quiet discussion between themselves. Xoc scratched the scruff of her neck. She had broached the topic because Buddhist Soyros were supposed to be strong against the Undead. Suddenly, they were debating the widespread adoption of Buddhism.

I guess I can’t complain if it leads to more anti-undead forces…

Rol’en’gorek was so vast that, even if they hadn’t stopped to ‘digest’ the Draconic Kingdom, it would take the Undead decades to reach the capital. That was assuming that the clans would fight them the entire way, which she didn’t doubt they would. The jungle itself was a deadly enemy filled with countless hazards for those who weren’t meant to live in it.

“This is part of a much longer discussion,” Xoc said. “One that should be revisited over months and years. Right now, we need to stabilise the city and use that stability to stabilise the rest of the region. Master Leeds, how do our logistics look?”

“We’re keeping to our share of shipments to the city,” the Guildmaster rose from his cushion with a set of papers in his hand. “Currently, that’s two-fifths of all incoming traffic. Our redirection activities are done out of sight of the city, so things have gone pretty smoothly.”

“Have there been any changes to import volumes?”

“They’ve gone up. From what our people have gathered from their contacts, the lowland cull is just getting started. Everyone has Nug to get rid of and we’ve been taking full advantage of it…and we’re not the only ones.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s been a major shift in demand to the south. With the insane supply of Nug products in the offering, the southern clans are taking advantage of their arid climate and proximity to the Great Lut to expand their food preservation industry. Smoking and tanning operations are popping up everywhere and they say that you can see the haze from it all changing the sky. Whoever put their resources into this is going to be pulling in huge profits once food starts getting scarce in the rest of Rol’en’gorek.”

“Good for them,” Xoc said. “And good for us. Rol’en’gorek will have enough food to prevent a famine in the southern regions if the clanlords are prudent.”

For a season or so, at any rate. The cull meant that Nug available for slaughter would be scarce in the long term. If they didn’t come up with a solution for that, they would be seeing desperate infighting between the tribes in addition to their current woes.

“Does this affect our smokehouses in any way?” Xoc asked.

“Unfortunately yes, il-Enxoc” Master Leeds answered. “We still have all of the shipments from everywhere else to deal with. This flooding is sending us plenty of fuel to burn, but we’re down to using rendered blood to cure the meat. Not that your people seem to have any problems with the taste, but it won’t keep as long as properly preserved food.”

“Does that mean we’ll have issues with spoilage?” One of the elders asked.

“So long as we keep expanding our influence, we won’t be. That brings me to the best part of this report…”

Xoc pressed her paws against the cool stone of her throne, waiting to hear what the Guildmaster had to share. Master Leeds waited until he had the full attention of the court, taking a sip out of his cup and clearing his throat before speaking in a clear voice.

“Word of our activities here has reached the ears of clans around the cities nearby,” he said. “Not the warrior clans, but the civilian ones.”

She released a breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding.

“That’s is a good thing, right?” Xoc asked.

“Oh, yes,” Master Leeds answered with a smile. “The warrior clans may have kept them ignorant of military affairs, but they’re well aware of the mounting crisis in their own territories. This is a problem that falls under their jurisdiction and they’re desperately looking for solutions. Our agents have been shrewd enough to secure dedicated berths for our ships, as well as a permanent market presence.”

“But we’re not trading them food,” Xoc noted. “Just some manufactured goods from the clanhold and the copper coins we’ve been minting. How did those get us all of that in return?”

Merchants seemed to have a magic all their own. She wouldn’t be surprised if one of them told her that they had traded a blade of grass for a whole Nug at some point.

“Well, that was just to get our foot in the door,” Master Leeds said. “After that, we promised to arrange for an audience between you and them.”

“Me?!”

How did she become so valuable? All she did was worry about everything.

“We’ll be hosting their delegations here, of course,” Master Leeds said. “A picture is worth a thousand words and all that. After taking a tour of our territory, they’ll undoubtedly buy in.”

“Buy in to what?”

“…everything? As much as I dislike bending people over a barrel, this is a situation where they don’t have much of a choice. It’s listening to us or seeing their people starve. And it’s not as if we’re up to no good, right? We need the influence to gain control of this ship before it goes straight over a waterfall. Everything we’re doing is for everyone’s benefit.”

Beside Master Leeds, Chimali raised a paw.

“What will we be showing them, exactly?” He asked, “Only our agricultural operations are relevant to their problems. It wouldn’t be good to give away all of our competitive advantages.”

“We’ll have time to prepare a suitable reception,” the Guildmaster said. “The focus will be on our agriculture and logistics, but it won’t hurt to show them the fruit of our other industries along the way. If you’re worried about exposing us Humans, you can keep to the lower markets. It’s probably best to have il-Enxoc and the elders do most of the talking anyway.”

Xoc looked back and forth helplessly as her court went ahead and planned her upcoming audiences without her. She could only hope that they didn’t dress her in feathers again.