Chapter 5
“Your definition of ‘a while longer’ is a lot different from mine.”
“I’m sorry,” Florine said. “The meeting was a bit impromptu. I didn’t know how long it would take, but I didn’t think it would take that long.”
Their progress through Hardar slowed as the crowds grew, even with a column of Undead leading the way. Or perhaps it was because of them. The underway was only so wide, after all.
“How much will the Undead help with the situation in Hardar?” Florine asked, “I’m sure everyone up here would like to return to their homes.”
“According to that contract of yours,” Velgath said, “they can only be used to defend. The ones deployed here will be used to hold key positions while our forces go on the offensive. Not that these Death Knights are so great at getting around anyway.”
“I thought that problems with mobility would be solved by having Rangers guide them.”
“That doesn’t exactly work when you’re fighting,” Velgath told her. “Also, half of the problem is that they’re too big to fit in a lot of passages. Elder Liches using certain summons are more effective in most operations down here.”
She couldn’t say that she had heard of that problem before. It seemed that there could be problems using Death-series servitors wherever one was. At least the Dark Dwarves didn’t attempt to use those reasons to bargain down the lease rates.
A Goblin hawker somehow managed to get close to them with a wide platter balanced on her head. Florine examined the skewers of roasted mushrooms arrayed upon it before picking out a colourful-looking selection.
“Would you like one, Velgath?”
“Not hungry.”
The Goblin wrinkled its nose at the coins Florine dropped in her palm before shrugging and walking off. Florine made a mental note to get her hands on some of the local currency. It was something that Merchants usually made a point of doing as they went from place to place, but the new experiences had been so overwhelming that it had slipped her mind.
“Does Felhammer have a Merchant Guild branch?” Florine asked.
“Yeah.”
“Will they establish ties with the Merchant Guild on the surface now that you’re going to conduct trade with the Sorcerous Kingdom and its allies?”
“You’d have to ask the Prince about that. Well, probably not.”
“Why?”
“They’re fine for enforcing industrial standards and managing their members,” Velgath said, “but you can’t let them get too powerful. Otherwise, they’ll start doing things that they shouldn’t be doing.”
“Such as…?”
“Like trying to change laws to work in their favour or even getting into politics.”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“Of course there is,” Velgath gave her a funny look. “Having a Merchant in a position of power is a sure way to run a country off of a cliff. All they think about is trade, profits, and expanding economic influence.”
“I know more than a few people that would readily equate running a country to running a business,” Florine said.
Velgath let out a derisive snort.
“Probably because they’re Merchants. Governance and commerce are two entirely different things. Just because both happen to manage resources doesn’t make them similar. The goal of a business is to make a profit. The goal of a government is to run a country, city, or whatever. If you have Merchants sticking their heads where they don’t belong, it’s a clear sign that you need to cut them off.”
But I’m a Merchant…
Florine nibbled dejectedly on her skewer. She didn’t think she was that terrible at managing her demesne. Or maybe she was and that was why her friends were all getting promoted ahead of her. Clara and Liane were Merchants as well, but was there something fundamentally different about what they did that she hadn’t noticed?
“Aren’t you worried about being poisoned?” Velgath looked pointedly at her skewer.
“I’m immune to poison,” Florine answered. “Why would anyone want to poison me, anyway?”
“Are you seriously saying that?” Velgath frowned at her, “You’re a foreign dignitary. The most efficient way for the council to get back at Clan Felhammer is to–”
Something struck Florine in the chest. It tumbled in the air countless times before landing on the stone floor with a metallic clatter. She turned at a light thudding sound, finding a dark object sticking out of the Vampire Bride.
Shouts rose around them as the Captain of her escort barked out orders. Several Death Knights closed around her, locking their shields together.
“Be right back,” Velgath said before vanishing into the crowd.
The Vampire Bride yanked the object out of her abdomen. It was a steel quarrel roughly the length of her forearm. She held out the projectile to Isoroku, who took it in its bony fingers.
“「Appraise All Magic Item」.”
Isoroku examined the spent missile for a moment before stuffing it into its inventory.
“Is there anything special about it?” Florine asked.
“No.”
Florine looked out in the direction that the quarrel came from. The shields of the Death Knights blocked her view, but she would have probably only seen darkness anyway.
Aside from the time that Liane had thrown a rock at her out of curiosity, it was the first time she had been purposely attacked. But what was the point of doing so? It wasn't as if she was some powerful individual or presented a threat to anyone.
Velgath returned five minutes later. She peered up at Florine suspiciously before reaching out and squeezing her left breast. Florine let out a cry, jumping back and crossing her arms defensively in front of herself. Velgath, however, only looked down at her empty hand, working her fingers as if analysing the sensation.
“As I was saying,” the Dwarf woman turned and resumed walking. “The most efficient way for the council to get back at Clan Felhammer is to stir up trouble between us and the Sorcerous Kingdom. And the easiest way to do that is to kill you. It’s a good sign, I guess.”
“How could it possibly be a good sign?”
“Because it means the council’s realised that they can’t win. The forces still in Hardar and any leftovers that join them will be switching from trying to retake Hardar to conducting what covert operations they can. Since you’re immune to assassinations or something, mind walking around Hardar all alone? It’d speed things up immensely.”
“N-no, thank you.”
“But didn’t you want to take a look around?” Velgath tilted her head curiously.
“Please take me back to Felhammer Citadel.”
“Suit yourself.”
They wasted no time boarding the train once it arrived at the station. Florine hugged herself, trembling as she sat alone on her cold steel seat.
Someone tried to kill me…
She had been in plenty of potentially dangerous situations before, but this was the first time that anyone had targeted her specifically. The fact that she didn’t even know who it was or what they looked like only made it worse. She was confident that she could de-escalate any situation with her abilities, but those abilities relied on being able to communicate with her attacker. As it was, all she could do was hide and pray that they couldn’t get to her.
As they crossed Hardar Bridge, slices of orange light illuminated the interior of the armoured car through the arrow slits on one side. Florine was pressed back against her hard seat as the train accelerated and the guards levelled their crossbows. Across from her, Velgath leaned forward slightly to peer out of one of the arrow slits.
“What was that?” Florine asked nervously.
“Gazer scouts, probably,” Velgath answered. “Something just got blasted out of the air.”
Another flash of orange light flared angrily into their rail car. Florine shifted away from the wall.
“Gazers can fly?”
“They sure can,” Velgath said. “Just don’t ask me how.”
“Why?”
The Dark Dwarf gave her a long look.
“Because they don’t have wings or anything like that – they sort of just float. You heard the Captain, didn’t you? They’re basically eyes with teeth.”
No matter how she thought about the description, Florine could only imagine something silly.
Another explosion lit the darkness before they crossed over into Felhammer. The streets that were so busy when they departed from Hardar were already emptied of people. When they arrived at the base of the citadel, she found the stronghold's defences fully manned and its floodlights sent blue-white beams into the air around it.
When she arrived at Felhammer Citadel, Liolio flew down from the main gate to alight upon her head. Florine reached up to take him in her hands and hugged him to her breast.
I should have taken him with me.
Florine didn’t know why, but she felt safer with him around. She couldn't attend a meeting with Lady Albedo with a Demihuman sitting on her head, however, so she had the Miq stay behind with Boobeebee in Felhammer. It had taken her a while to convince Liolio that he wasn’t being abandoned, and his hurt and anxious protests twisted at her heart as she did so.
“Pip?”
In response, Florine hugged him more tightly to herself. Velgath shook her head.
“It’s not as if you were hurt.”
“I don’t come from a place where assassinations are an everyday thing.”
“But they happen at least sometimes, right? I bet you know a few Assassins yourself.”
“I do, but…argh! Why do you have to make it sound that way?”
“Sound what way?”
Velgath looked up innocently at Florine’s glower. Generally speaking, it wasn’t a good thing to be associated with assassins, but Tira and the other members of Ijaniya that she had become acquainted with weren’t terrible people.
They went straight to the great hall to confirm the delivery of the Undead security forces. Thankfully, all of the torture was over and Florine made her way to the throne without any nightmarish scenes to accompany her. The Prince looked up as she approached, tossing the pile of papers in his hand onto the table to his right.
“If I didn’t know any better,” he said, “I’d have thought you timed everything to your advantage.”
“We saw what happened over Hardar Bridge,” Florine said. “Is Felhammer under attack?”
“No,” Prince Felhammer said, “but we are being scouted. Since the bridges to Darksteel and Grimmantle have been destroyed, they have no direct way to send the bulk of their army after us. Our task now is to keep them blind until we can confirm a few things. With the Elder Liches incorporated into our air defences, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The Prince’s relaxed manner only served to disgust her. It was said – often with a healthy dose of cynicism – that one hand washed the other, but she never imagined that anyone would use the blood of so many to do so.
“Out of curiosity,” Florine asked, “what is the population of a single principality?”
“Hm? Upward to half a million Dark Dwarves. Around three million slaves, if that matters.”
Tens of millions were being sacrificed for Prince Felhammer’s ambitions – ambitions facilitated by the Sorcerous Kingdom. As the Sorcerous Kingdom’s official representative, all she could do was stand silently by while it happened.
As a cold, political calculation, she couldn’t dispute whether it was worth it or not. That the Sorcerous Kingdom would suffer any damage to its reputation at all was even in question. They were dealing with a power that barely anyone on the surface knew of and none had official relations with, as far as they could tell.
Even if the events that transpired were brought to light, it could be claimed that it was a civil conflict outside of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s jurisdiction. She doubted that anyone would openly question that statement, as doing so would suggest that the Sorcerous Kingdom should start intervening in everyone’s affairs, whether they liked it or not.
It was as neat a package as they could obtain: an opportunity to use their abundant martial strength for pure political and economic gain.
“If there are so many people in Khazanar,” Florine said, “then how strong are the forces attacking it?”
“Aside from notably strong individuals and monsters,” Prince Felhammer replied, “They shouldn’t be much more powerful than Khazanar’s forces. At least if the council hadn’t flung a good portion of it at us. Even if they’ve been slacking with keeping the nearby areas of the Middle Realms clear, it should have taken a good while for the Gazers to dream up sufficient forces to attack them.”
Florine blinked slowly as she attempted to digest the statement.
“…I’m not sure if it’s a translation problem, but did you just say ‘dream up’?”
“As in the thing you do when you sleep, yeah.”
“Then I’m afraid that I don’t follow.”
“That’s their primary mode of reproduction,” Prince Felhammer told her. “As a general rule, Gazers are xenophobic, paranoid, egotistical, megalomaniacal, and narcissistic. And all of that goes to extremes that are beyond the imagination of most. It’s to the point that, when a Gazer has a dream about themselves, they’ll wake up with a copy of themselves waking up beside them.”
“So they think so highly of themselves that the world bends to facilitate their ego?”
“Something like that. It only becomes a problem when a powerful Gazer dreams up a bunch of copies of itself without them all killing one another for being impostors.”
“How powerful do they get?” Florine asked.
“I haven’t fought many personally,” Prince Felhammer answered, “but the records state that they can be as strong or even stronger than Ancient Dragons. I assume that we don’t have anything too powerful on our hands or they’d have already flown over to destroy us. The fact that they’re sending scouts means that the forces they encountered defending Khazanar were enough to make the Gazers cautious in their advance.”
If it was anyone else, Florine might have thought them possessed of an attractive degree of stoic confidence. Dark Dwarves as a whole seemed to have a poor opinion of everything, however, so there was very little that was enjoyable about her interactions with them.
An officer entered the great hall, walking around Florine to deliver his report.
“My Prince,” he said. “We’re up to two hundred Gazer scouts in the past hour. Nothing major, so far. The Undead have started arriving at their posts and we’re familiarising them with our defences.”
“Any sign of their army?” Prince Felhammer asked.
“Our patrols continue uninterrupted,” the officer answered. “We’re still dealing with council remnants in Hardar, but they’ve started getting scarce. It’ll take a good while to root out the ones that have blended in with the local population.”
An unsettling feeling returned as Florine was reminded of the recent assassination attempt against her. She excused herself as more officers filtered in to make their reports and confer with the prince.
Back in her state room, she lay down on her bed, holding her wrist over her forehead. Boobeebee came out from the odd little tunnel she had made out of a combination of Dwarven furniture and their baggage. As with Liolio, Florine had convinced her to stay behind while she met with Lady Albedo.
“What happened?” Boobeebee asked.
“Someone tried to kill me,” Florine answered with a sigh.
The Zern hero came over, examining Florine with her eyeless gaze.
“Are you injured? I knew I should have insisted on accompanying you! This Dark Dwarf hive is nowhere near as safe as Zern ones.”
“I wasn’t hurt,” Florine said, “I’m just feeling a bit unsettled. No one’s ever tried to kill me before.”
Boobeebee regarded Florine, her antennae and barbed arms moving in an uncertain gesture.
“I’m afraid I can’t understand your position,” Boobeebee told her. “I was born as a soldier, so that sort of thing is expected. More than expected, there is a certain sense of fulfilment when I am fighting for the hive and someone is trying to kill me.”
Florine rested her hands lightly upon Liolio, who was sitting on her stomach. Though an attempted assassination wasn’t an experience that she wanted to share, it served to demonstrate how difficult it could be to develop a rapport with other races. One couldn’t assume a similar sense of empathy as one could with members of their own species. What was traumatic for one might be uplifting for another.
How multiracial societies came up with a common culture shared between all of its member species without tending toward abusive relationships was beyond her. The need for collective survival probably only worked up to a certain point and simply saying ‘oh, they’re just like that’ felt insipid, at best.
She shifted a bit on her hard stone mattress before sitting up with an annoyed sound. Liolio fluttered to a chair nearby. Why did Dark Dwarves insist on tormenting everyone, even themselves? She reached into her Infinite Haversack and pulled out a thick blanket, laying it over the stone. Then, she pulled out another one.
“What are you doing?” Boobeebee asked.
“Distracting myself,” Florine grumbled.
“If you’d like something soft on your bed,” the Vampire Bride came forward with a smile, “I would be more than happy to–”
“No!”
Florine turned her glare on Isoroku.
“Is something the matter?” The Elder Lich said.
“It’s nothing.”
For some reason, she was mad that it didn’t have anything to say.
“Liolio is hungry.”
I’ll take it.
Florine picked up Liolio and she walked out of her state room with an excuse to do something firmly in hand. Normally, a member of the host’s staff would see to every need of a foreign dignitary, but hospitality was not a strong point for Dark Dwarves. One of the guards at the door merely grunted as she went by.
Where do they even eat?
“Has anyone eaten recently?”
“No,” Liolio said.
“No,” said Boobeebee.
“No,” the Vampire Bride chimed in.
She supposed that she had been negligent when it came to her ‘staff’. The last time they had eaten anything together was before Prince Felhammer launched the campaign to reclaim his territory.
They wandered up and down the citadel’s corridors, searching for something like a dining area, but not even the aroma of food could be detected. After recalling the stone-splitting loaf of dwarven bread, Florine sighed.
“Summon my escort,” she told Isoroku. “We’re going out.”
The guards at the main gate stopped them to ask where they were going. Once Florine answered them, they had them wait until Velgath appeared with a grumpy look.
“You had to do this now?”
“If you were busy with something,” Florine replied, “you don’t have to come.”
“That’s not how it works. The prince told me to attend to you.”
“…I’m sorry. I’m still just upset over everything that happened.”
“I see. So you’re the sort that does things when they get mad. Maybe you’re more like us than I thought.”
Orange explosions blossomed in the distance as they descended to the city using the citadel’s main lift. There were so many now that there wasn’t a moment when some part of the darkness wasn’t bathed in fiery light.
“Can this really be called ‘scouting’ anymore?” Florine said.
“You just have to consider the scale of everything,” Velgath told her. “If they had enough to overrun the rest of Khazanar, even losing thousands by the hour barely scratches their numbers.”
“What do they hope to accomplish by doing this?”
“Probing our defences for weak spots. Expending our resources and trying to wear down our soldiers. But that won’t work anymore now that we have the Undead in place. We’re already baiting them into making their first big move by giving them what they’re looking for.”
She looked out to the field of fleeting stars, but she couldn’t see what Velgath was talking about. Maybe someone like Ludmila would have recognised it.
Unlike the area around Hardar Bridge, the ‘surface’ level below the citadel was still moderately active. Velgath led them past it all to an access ramp to the areas below. A wave of heat assailed them as they entered the crowded passageways in search of a meal.
“People look strangely unconcerned here,” Florine said. “It’s as if a war isn’t on the verge of breaking out.”
“How would that help with anything?” Velgath asked.
“Don’t they think of helping out somehow or even escaping to safety?”
“They help by working,” Velgath told her. “If for some reason you think that they’d be of any help personally joining the fight, I’ll have you know that even a novice Dwarf warrior can kill hundreds of production slaves. They’ll just get in the way if you throw them in the mix. Actually, shouldn’t it be the same way with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t do anything silly like using Farmers as soldiers or something, do you?”
It took all of three seconds of silence for Velgath to let out a disgusted sound.
“Every country handles their security differently,” Florine said. “Re-Estize does as you say, levying manpower for their armies when needed. Roble requires mandatory military service from all of their citizens, regardless of gender. In theory, at least. Baharuth and Slane have professional standing armies, as does the Draconic Kingdom. Hmm…oh, Karnassus uses a levy system like Re-Estize, but I suppose with the majority of their population being Demihumans, there’s a notable difference in strength.”
“And what about the Sorcerous Kingdom?”
“We have a professional army,” Florine replied. “Normal people obviously can’t match the Death-series servitors in what they excel at, but we do have auxiliary forces that support them.”
Did she dodge yet another barrage of Velgath’s disdain? Hopefully, she would leave it at that.
“Is this fine?”
“Hm?”
Florine followed the line of Velgath’s gaze.
I’ve heard of hole-in-the-wall establishments, but this one takes it quite literally…
A row of stone stools was placed in front of a stone counter that was carved out of an alcove in the passage. A bored-looking Ogre stood in a rectangular opening in the wall.
“I can’t say that I’m not at least a bit curious…”
They entered the alcove and took their seats. The Ogre looked down from the window with a dull expression.
“How do we order?” Florine whispered.
“Just say what you want,” Velgath replied. “She’s not going to recognise any cuisine from the surface, obviously.”
“What would everyone like?”
“Mammal meat,” Boobeebee said.
“Grubs!” Liolio pipped.
“Virgin blood, please,” the Vampire Bride said.
The Ogre looked at Florine.
“Oh,” Florine said. “I’ve already eaten.”
“I’m good,” Velgath said.
Florine half-rose out of her seat, trying to see what the Ogre was doing. She hadn’t questioned any part of the order, not even the virgin blood.
“I don’t see any Dwarf staff in there,” Florine noted.
“Hah?” Velgath frowned, “Why would there be a Dwarf here?”
“This is a dining establishment, isn’t it? I thought Dark Dwarves owned everything in Khazanar.”
“They do, but we don’t usually eat the same thing. This is actually the back window of a slave dormitory. They’re running this side thing to make a little extra.”
“The slaves, or their masters?”
“Uh, both? The masters profit off of the establishment and the slaves working here get a bit ahead of their fellow slaves by getting better at what they do.”
The first dish to arrive was a whole bat that landed in front of Boobeebee with a light thump. Florine stared at the thing – it was as large as Boobeebee was. Then she turned her gaze away as Boobeebee opened her frighteningly disturbing mouth and started working on her meal.
Did they even prepare that in any way? How does that help them get any better as cooks?
Florine jumped as a slab of maggot-infested meat landed on the counter in front of her with a splat. Liolio hopped off of her head and pecked away at it with a relish. Florine turned her head away again, trying not to get sick.
Finally, the Ogre gently set a polished stone bowl in front of the Vampire Bride. Florine wasn’t sure what to think of herself as she watched the Vampire Bride take a sip of blood without any sense of queasiness.
“How is it?” Florine asked.
“It’s not bad,” the Vampire Bride said. “I’m surprised they could provide virgin blood.”
“Baby,” the Ogre said proudly.
“That makes sense,” the Vampire Bride nodded sagely.
Florine leaned forward, covering her face in her hands.
“Are you alright, my lady?” The Vampire Bride asked.
“No,” Florine answered.
She settled on watching the passing crowds as her companions worked on their meals, considering the realities of running a multiracial restaurant. Though the preparation could appear questionable, the residents of E-Rantel’s Demihuman Quarter all appeared to eat at least somewhat normal-looking things. As more and more non-Humans populated the Sorcerous Kingdom, however, more…exotic establishments would surely show up.
A Beastman dining on raw steak was one thing, but could a Human enjoy a meal while the Demihuman sitting across the table from them was happily shoving fistfuls of writhing maggots into their mouths? Probably not. Thus far, she had worked hard to make things as inclusive as possible for the Sorcerous Kingdom’s citizens, but segregation of dining establishments by diet and feeding habits was probably inevitable.
“We need to hurry it up,” Velgath said after a few minutes.
Florine looked around for potential dangers in the crowd.
“Is something going on?” She asked.
“My father just contacted me,” Velgath answered. “War’s starting.”