Chapter 10
Ludmila’s journey to Sun Rock took over two days, as the Ogres opted to follow the tributary that ran below the newly named ‘Mount Verilyn’ before heading southeast up another stream. The Ogres appeared to be navigating their way over the rough, wet and overgrown terrain far better than one might expect of the clumsy Giantkin, reinforcing her suspicions that they all possessed Ranger levels. Despite this, their winding, indirect route had them stop twice to rest for the night.
Not one to simply idle because nothing was going on, Ludmila took the time to learn as much as she could about the Upper Reach’s denizens and their perspective on things. Though they spoke simply, the Ogres had a surprisingly broad grasp of events in their recollection if one had the patience to listen. The way they conveyed themselves spoke of the collective wisdom that even the most ‘primitive’ Demihuman tribes possessed – something usually overlooked or ignored by those who lived a safe distance apart from them.
Events over the summer had taken their toll on the populations that dwelled in the highland basin. Due to the manipulation of weather in the Sorcerous Kingdom to ensure that the harvests arrived on time, they had experienced an unprecedented drought. Tribes clashed for survival over dwindling sources of food and water. The arrival of the Krkonoše provided a reprieve for those downwind of the easternmost ranges as the fluffy Druids ‘corrected’ the weather that had been changed over their territory.
By the time the Goblin Army spilt into the Upper Reaches, most of the local population had migrated away from the western half of the basin. Some went into the ranges to the west, while others tried their luck in the forests bordering the Slane Theocracy. Ludmila highly doubted that the ones who strayed too far south had survived. The Sun Rock Tribe, which was originally much smaller than it currently was, absorbed those that migrated east.
While Ludmila fought in the north, the remaining free tribes of the Upper Reaches resisted the Goblin Army’s advance in the east. By the time her forces broke the core of the Goblin Army in the central valley and swept the remainder away, two-thirds of the Sun Rock Tribe had been decimated. The Ogres had no exact numbers, only describing their fighting forces as ‘hundreds of tribes’.
Behind Ludmila and her Ogre guides, the familiar tread of Death Knight boots sounded into the evening sky. Since the Demihuman tribes did not recognize Ludmila, she decided to call in a squad from the Royal Army. In her trail followed six Death Knights, two Death Warriors, two Death Priests and their Elder Lich sergeant. If things went well, the Sun Rock Tribe would be suitably impressed and she could worry less about diplomacy and more about integration.
She still had no idea how to formalise things, nor did she expect everything to simply switch over to her administrative systems even if she did. The two Demihuman populations already under her rule functioned in completely different ways. Lizardmen were a highly sedentary wetland species, which lent to the development of a culture with many rough parallels to the Human culture of Re-Estize. They had vaguely similar social dynamics, rudimentary trade, and an array of vocations that supported their society. Since this was the case, integration was mostly a matter of adapting existing systems and framing new ones in ways familiar to them.
The Krkonoše, in contrast, were semi-nomadic and had very little in the way of common threads with Human or Lizardman culture. All she could do was evaluate the benefits that they provided and the duties that they were willing to carry out. That being said, the Rangers were excellent at keeping the mountainous parts of her borders secure. The Druids helped to regulate weather and soil conditions around her territory. It was a rather lax arrangement, but they pulled far more than their weight.
Ludmila’s current plan for the Upper Reaches was not much of a plan, involving a lot of wait-and-see. From observing the Demihumans in E-Rantel, she understood that Goblins, Ogres and Trolls could all find places in city life, as well as participate in the economy, but she did not possess Florine Gagnier’s seemingly magical methods. For the time being, she thought it best to leave their lives unchanged while accustoming them to the laws and practises of the Sorcerous Kingdom. Once the fort in the central valley was completed, it could serve as a rudimentary hub for trade for the Upper Reaches. From there, she would work on slowly improving things as a whole.
She eyed a group of Goblins and Ogres, who were observing their passage from deeper within the forest. Ever since the Undead squad had joined them, everyone else stayed well away. Roughly ten kilometres to the southeast loomed the so-called ‘Sun Rock’ that was the tribe’s namesake: a bare ridge of granite that stretched eight kilometres from north to south, catching the light of the setting sun long after it had disappeared to the forests below. According to her guides, the ridge was pockmarked with a multitude of caves that served as shelter for thousands of Demihumans.
Her steps slowed as she fell back to speak with the Elder Lich sergeant.
“How far along are we with scouting Sun Rock?” She asked.
“Our investigation of the landform is estimated to be slightly over thirty per cent complete,” the Elder Lich answered. “The number of caves is slowing down progress substantially.”
“Anything out of the ordinary so far?”
“The racial demographics thus far match the historical distribution found elsewhere in the Upper Reaches. No rare specimens have been identified, and the ratio of mystics, hunters and suspected Lord-type Demihumans is in line with our expectations.”
“How about–”
『I think I’m going to compose a spellsong about how ridiculously slow these merchant caravans travel. The entire world will slow down to three kilometres an hour.』
Ludmila raised a hand to her ear. A conversation through her bond with Ilyshn’ish wasn’t a Message spell, but the gesture felt clear enough to indicate that someone was communicating with her.
『Shouldn’t your caravan have stopped for the night?』
『We have. We covered thirty kilometres today – thirty! I can easily fly that distance in fifteen minutes. How do people live like this?』
『They have gotten along like that for as long as history can tell. Aside from the rate of travel, has everything else been alright?』
『That hardly needs to be asked. You can feel how I feel.』
She could, and what she could feel was that Ilyshn’ish was stressed. Tremendously so. It was a wonder that she wasn’t hysterical with all the insecurity and paranoia bottled up within her. According to Ilyshn’ish, it was always like that whenever Frost Dragons faced too many unknowns. Considering that Ilyshn’ish’s primary ambition was to travel the world and see new places, she must have been possessed of unimaginable amounts of mental fortitude.
『I can feel it, but it doesn’t really describe what’s going on.』
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『Everything is new. I don’t know where all of the ambush spots are and the road is full of people I’ve never seen before. At least the caravan members stay the same.』
『Are you getting along well with everyone?』
『I think so? I’m sitting at a fire with a group of men right now. They keep offering me mug after mug of liquor, so I don’t think they hate me.』
Ludmila tried feeling for any signs of drunkenness through her bond with Ilyshn’ish. As one of the Undead, she was immune to poison and thus immune to the effects of alcohol so she wasn’t sure how that would work.
『Can Dragons get drunk?』
『Probably. It would take quite a lot, and I have a spellsong that gradually cleanses poison, disease and several other debilitating effects.』
『I see. Well, you should still drink in moderation. Most people cannot drink an entire caravan dry, and they might end up resenting you for it. Anyway, I’m headed into an important meeting now, so I’ll contact you when I’m finished.』
『An important meeting?』
『We have located a big tribe, so I am attempting to negotiate their entry into the Sorcerous Kingdom.』
Ilyshn’ish seemed to scoff from her place in the corner of Ludmila’s mind.
『Negotiate? Just give a few of them a suitably impressive thrashing and they’ll be crawling over one another to submit themselves.』
『That is always an option, but I would like to find a better answer than that. I cannot exactly go around thrashing Demihumans all over the Upper Reaches.』
『Why not?』
Ludmila rolled her eyes, and the feelings she conveyed through their bond precluded the need for any further discussion. She lowered her hand and glanced over at the Elder Lich sergeant.
“Have you discovered where the tribal leadership is located?”
“There are multiple large caverns that may contain the individuals described. With partial reconnaissance, our findings remain inconclusive.”
Due to the circumstances by which the Sun Rock Tribe had grown into power, it was led by a tribal council of sorts. The members were supposedly all powerful mystics, but Ludmila wasn’t sure what a ‘powerful mystic’ would be in the eyes of a common Ogre. They couldn’t describe any of the spells that these mystics employed, so she hoped that the Shadow Demons being used for reconnaissance would pick up on some useful details.
“We are being targeted by a divination effect,” the sergeant said. “Shall we retaliate?”
“Does the spell threaten any harm?”
“It appears to be passive observation.”
Ludmila flexed the gauntlet under which her Ring of Nondetection was equipped. While she was shielded from divination magic and certain other skills and abilities that attempted to gather information about her, the Royal Army’s soldiers were not. The spell lists of Elder Liches and Death-series servitors consisted almost entirely of spells related to direct combat, so ‘retaliation’ would probably be quite explosive.
“As long as their spells are causing no direct harm,” Ludmila said, “it will work to our gain in this situation. We are not here to fight, and surprising the denizens here with a group of powerful Undead would be sure to create panic. They are aware of what the Sorcerous Kingdom’s forces are capable of due to the battle during the summer, so having them willingly submit through that recognition is the most optimal outcome. Unless they declare themselves as our enemies, they should be treated as future subjects.”
“And if they use this information to prepare an ambush?”
“Then that would count as a declaration of intent. By the account of these Ogres, the Goblin Army severely outmatched them. There should not be any threats ahead capable of challenging us, else they would have been employed in their desperate fight against the invaders during the summer. We are negotiating from a position of strength, and the sheer difference between us means that we can afford to be patient with them.”
As they came closer to Sun Rock, the aroma in the air grew more pronounced. Goblins, Ogres, and Trolls were all notorious for their stench. Gathering thousands of them in one place made her wonder if the citizens of the Theocracy two hundred kilometres downwind could smell them.
The number of distant gazes steadily increased, and groups of Demihumans started to trail after them. It was a scenario that Ludmila would never knowingly have allowed herself to enter in the past, but she now viewed it with a sense of detached calmness. She wasn’t sure whether this was a product of her experiences or something that stemmed from the more ‘Undead’ parts of her nature.
It was close to midnight by the time they reached the base of Sun Rock. High above, the peaks of the barrier range dividing the Upper Reaches and the Riverlands disappeared into the clouds. The Ogres led them past dozens of cool springs that welled out from the cracks in the stone, stopping at a clear pool that occupied the bottom of a rocky bowl.
Their guides left, presumably to call for the tribal leadership. Ludmila scanned the ledges and cracks in the cliffs above: the defenders enjoyed a significant terrain advantage. Hopefully, it would provide a sense of security that made the Demihumans more likely to talk.
Goblin heads started poking out from the holes above. Dozens, then hundreds of gazes both curious and fearful pressed down on them. Ogres and Trolls appeared on the ledges, and soon the bowl was surrounded by a teeming mass of Demihumans. Occasionally, a Goblin would be knocked off of its perch to tumble down to the pool, but they would quickly get up and scurry away. A multitude of unintelligible voices bore down on them as the Demihumans’ collective aggression rose.
She continued observing the heights above, looking for any particularly strong or distinctly adorned Demihumans. Despite all of the crude weapons of wood and stone being brandished, she couldn’t sense any immediate threat. If anything, this type of ‘welcome’ was expected.
Though not in such vast numbers, she was familiar with the behaviour before her. Intimidation through displays of superiority – be it in numbers or strength – was the main method of ‘diplomacy’ amongst Demihuman tribes. To most Humans, it would be considered evidence of their savagery, but there was a certain sense to it all.
Winning without fighting was the best outcome, and intimidation tactics translated in a straightforward manner regardless of race. Demihumans did not simply fling themselves into fights like mindless Undead – tribes had their own considerations to make before committing to battle. Those considerations revolved around survival: what they needed to hold territory, securing food and shelter, and what getting into a fight that potentially resulted in injuries or fatalities meant.
In their generations of defending the border, House Zahradnik had learned how to ‘speak’ the same language. Deterrence was the best defence, and fear was their greatest weapon.
“HUMAN!”
A deep, masculine voice boomed into the air and echoed around the bowl. The clamour stilled, and a towering figure stepped out from the crowd directly ahead to peer down at them.
“Goblin slayer!” Came a voice from the right.
“Death-worshipper!” Another hissed from the left.
The first speaker was a Troll holding a well-worn stalactite in one hand. Though adorned in the same unwashed animal skins as the other Trolls looking down at them, he was noticeably larger and more powerful than the others.
An old Goblin crone was the source of the second voice. Her bent frame was adorned in bone jewellery, feathers and various fetishes that clattered lightly as she leaned on a gnarled branch. Encountering an elderly Goblin was quite the rarity – they did not survive to old age, as a general rule.
The third speaker was an Ogre, his skin painted in bands of brown, red and blue – an Ogre mage. As Ogres were generally possessed of limited intellect, the arcane casters amongst them tended to be Sorcerers. Ludmila had not seen them in the wilderness, but she had fought them in the Adventurer Training Area.
“What of it?” Ludmila’s voice drifted back up towards them.
At her unperturbed tone, silence fell over the bowl. Normally, one would seek to officer some conciliatory response in the face of such numbers. That she didn’t was a statement in itself. Thousands of eyes scrutinised her, seeking even the slightest hint of fear. After several moments, the Goblin crone snorted.
“Why you come, Human?” She asked, “Why you bring death?”