Chapter 1

5th day, Middle Wind Month, 1 CE

“Hold it right there!”

Ilyshn’ish froze just as she was about to leap from one cliffside outcropping to the next. Below them, on a narrow ledge, a set of eyes reflected the faint moonlight leaking through the clouds.

“I’ve not seen your kind before!” The voice echoed off of the cliff face, “Who are you?”

“My name is Pebble.”

“‘Pebble’?” Another voice snickered, “What kind of name is that?”

It was a low voice, but it was crystal clear to Ilyshn’ish and her companions. Pebble dropped thirty metres to the ledge below, landing in front of the Con patrol. She rose to her full, four-metre height, staring down at the one who had made the comment.

“Do you have a problem with that?” Pebble asked.

Across the patrol, ears went flat and whiskers drooped.

“No,” the Con replied in a very small voice. “Pebble is fine. Your mother must have loved you very much.”

The Krkonoše didn’t name their offspring, so that probably didn’t make much sense to them. Ilyshn’ish dropped down and landed behind the Con patrol. Pinecone hopped down from his crag as well, landing beside Pebble. The Con cautiously backed away from the two towering felid Beastmen before them. One of them bumped into Ilyshn’ish, and he leapt up with a frightened shout.

“Is fearful panic the natural state of your species?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

It took several seconds for one of them to collect themselves enough to reply.

“N-not at all!”

“I see. Then why have you interrupted our journey?”

“You…you’ve crossed into the Confederation of Rol’en’gorek. Not that you’re unwelcome, mind you – we’re just doing our job. As a patrol.”

“In that case,” Ilyshn’ish gestured to the two Krkonoše Rangers standing across from her, “the gentleman standing beside Pebble is Pinecone. My name is Winter Moon. We’re travellers from a people that hail from the northwest.”

“…but the Wyvern Riders are in the northwest.”

“Far to the northwest. May we go now?”

“If you plan on entering, you should at least learn the rules…”

Why do you keep speaking like that? It’s not as if I’m going to eat you…

Even Quagoa were less timid. Just how had these Beastmen managed to invade a country that lit people on fire?

“Very well,” Ilyshn’ish said. “Lead the way.”

“The village isn’t far…wait, what’s that thing? Is it your food?”

The Con pointed a claw at Vltava, who had fallen in line with Pebble and Pinecone. Since the Krkonoše Druid had shed his antlers over the winter, he currently resembled an odd-looking sheep.

“Eventually,” Pebble said.

“I see. Well, this way, please.”

They followed the ledge down into one of the many highland valleys carved into the plateau. Lady Zahradnik had identified the area as an ideal entry point for Ilyshn’ish and her companions for several reasons that Ilyshn’ish could discern.

The main reason was that it was in a position where conflict was minimised. In ‘political’ terms, the borders in the area were strong and stable. In the northwest, the Wyvern Rider Tribes were well-entrenched and decisively answered any challenge. The north was the domain of a Black Dragon and most species were understandably averse to them. As a result, the people who lived on the plateau did not assume any stranger was inherently antagonistic and were more likely to talk than to attack.

“So how large is this Confederation of yours?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

“It is vast beyond imagining,” the Con leading the patrol answered. “My tribe’s territory is but a speck among the tens of thousands of tribes that dwell in Rol’en’gorek.”

“Is there any meaning to ‘Rol’en’gorek’?”

“The Oriculon is the great river that flows through the length of the Confederation.”

Ah, I see…

Since she knew the river as the ‘Oriculon’, ‘Rol’en’gorek’ was only translated when used to refer directly to the river. The other uses referred to other things associated with the river, but were not the river itself.

“Are there any places you’d recommend for us to go?” Ilyshn’ish asked, “Anywhere special or some locations that your people are particularly proud of?”

“Hmm…to be honest, none of us have ever gone beyond our tribe’s territories. We only hear of the world beyond when the village Merchant returns from his journeys.”

“They could go to Cau,” one of the other Con suggested. “It is the biggest place that our Merchant goes to. The jewelled ear clip that the chief gave his daughter is from there.”

Jewels? She liked the sound of that.

“Would it be possible to travel with this village Merchant?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

“His circuit takes a month and he was last at the village three weeks ago,” the patrol leader replied. “He doesn’t go back and forth directly. If you want to go straight to Cau, all you have to do is follow the river that goes by our village. That river will eventually join with another river called the Caura, and that’s where you’ll find Cau.”

A small crowd was stalking after them by the time they entered the village. The village itself was a collection of stone dens that used a stand of scraggly pines as a windbreak. She didn’t see any signs or even the slightest evidence of writing to identify what each structure in the village was, though if the people here never left their territories, it wasn’t exactly necessary.

The patrol led them to a flat slab of rock in the centre of the village, which Ilyshn’ish decided to dub ‘the hall’. Dozens of Con watched them curiously from their dens and the nearby trees, creating a field of eyes that reflected the scant moonlight.

“Now,” the patrol leader said, “the chief’s out hunting so you’ll have to make do with me. Most of the rules are pretty common sense. First off, no poaching. If you do end up hunting something down, make sure you compensate the local tribe.”

“Is there some common measure of value here?” Ilyshn’ish asked, “Trade coins, perhaps?”

“Usually, only the Merchants and chiefs have coins, but, yeah, that’ll work. Every tribe has some supplies to trade if you need them. You can pay the mystics for any magical treatment you might need, as well.”

Ilyshn’ish’s long, fluffy tail curled and uncurled as the Con spoke. So far, it wasn’t very different from how Humans did things. Except for the poaching part. The Beastmen were much more reasonable when it came to that. Poaching carried the death penalty in Human lands.

“Is every part of Rol’en’gorek the territory of one tribe or another?”

“Yes. We have a race for every space. We Con, for instance, prefer mountains like these. Urmah – they’re the Lionfolk – prefer more arid and grassy places. Ocelo are Jaguarfolk who can live anywhere with decent rainforest. The Nar are the Tigerfolk that prowl the jungle floors. Gao and Lup – the Dog and Wolf Beastmen – can scratch up a living just about anywhere that isn’t flooded or sheer.”

“Is it only Beastmen who dwell here?”

“Yep,” the patrol leader nodded. “There aren’t any of your race, but no one should bother you about it. That weird little sheep, on the other hand…hey, where’s that thing?”

“What thing?” One of the Con with him replied.

“That yellow band that Clan Torokgha said we needed for potential visitors.”

“Ah, that thing…one minute.”

The Con returned with a rawhide strip that Ilyshn’ish would be hard-pressed to describe as ‘yellow’. He approached Vltava, gingerly holding the tiny strip in his claws.

“What’s that for?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

“It’s something to identify things as ‘not for eating’, basically.”

“Ow!”

They looked over at Vltava. The bewildered Con in front of him picked the rawhide strip up off of the ground and leaned forward with it. Vltava’s split-hoofed hand smacked it away again.

“Agh!” The Con dropped the strip and shook his paw, “What the…”

“Not for eating?” Vltava bleated, “Never have I been so insulted in my life.”

“It…it talks?” The patrol leader blinked.

“Of course he talks,” Ilyshn’ish said. “Vltava is one of our travelling companions.”

“But you said he was food…”

“Eventually,” Pebble told him.

Ilyshn’ish went over and picked up the rawhide strip and stuffed it into a pouch.

“I’ll do something about this later,” she said.

If Vltava didn’t want it, then she would keep the thing. The item didn’t seem to be magical, but it was undoubtedly useful.

“Is there anything else we need to know?” Ilyshn’ish asked, “Dangerous fellows that we should be wary of or important people that we shouldn’t cross?”

“Dangerous fellows…I’m not sure if you’ll end up there, but the tribes of the Worldspine raid our lands further to the east.”

“What’s the Worldspine?”

“It’s the big mountain range north of Rol’en’gorek. There are a lot of nasty things up there. My advice would be not to get anywhere near. As for important people, every village has a chief. Every town has a Clanlord. It might be hard for outsiders, but you should memorise what members of the big clans look like. Everyone listens to them.”

“That sounds straightforward enough,” Ilyshn’ish said. “Anything more?”

The patrol leader crossed his arms and looked up at the night sky.

“Hmm…nothing really comes to mind. Just being decent should keep you out of trouble. Hey, what about you guys? What’s it like where you come from?”

“Our homes are in the mountains, too,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “But at a higher elevation. I suppose you could already tell by our thick coats.”

“Do you get raided often? Or do any raiding?”

“Not recently. Our territories are plentiful enough.”

“Sounds nice,” the patrol leader sighed. “It’s starting to get crowded here and the only way we got to go is north. Damn Trolls aren’t even edible.”

Trolls? Was that what was at that lake?

It made sense to her. Trolls would be useful and easy-to-control minions for a Black Dragon. They shared the same, swampy environment and Black Dragons breathed acid, which was fatal to Trolls.

“Expanding north probably isn’t a good idea,” Ilyshn’ish said.

“Why’s that?”

“I meandered around a bit before arriving here. The area isn’t only home to Trolls, but also to at least one Black Dragon.”

Low murmurs rose from around the crowd.

“A Dragon, you say?” The patrol leader said, “I should let the chief know about that. If it’s there, we have to get rid of it right away.”

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“A-are you sure about that?”

“Of course! You have to get rid of Dragons before they’re too big to get rid of.”

Ilyshn’ish suppressed a shudder. Other races had such a vicious outlook when it came to Dragons. One could just quietly be minding their own business when a mob of goons randomly came by to turn them into a purse.

After answering a few more questions, she thanked the Con for their help and they continued on their way. The environment wasn’t too different from that of the Upper Reaches of the Katze River. Conifer forests filled the highland valleys and rugged, rocky ranges dominated the skyline. The ground was moist from rains and the river they followed had swelled to overflow its banks in a few places, creating intermittent patches of flooded brush.

“This is a good place,” Vltava said. “The balance is strong and not easily disturbed.”

The Krkonoše Druid nipped a patch of moss as they strolled by a fallen log. Did that count as poaching?

“If that’s the case,” Ilyshn’ish asked, “how do you feel about Lady Zahradnik’s territory? The balance has gone all wonky there. She gave birth to a Dryad within a year.”

“The Warden is a servant of the balance. There will always be some important reason why she does what she does.”

“I don’t think she’s as unerring as you believe her to be.”

“What is, is.”

And, so, their conversation ended. The peaks lining their passage grew further apart until they could no longer be seen from the valley floor. Their rugged trail grew wider as well, turning into a muddy yellow road pockmarked with pools of rainwater. Traffic also grew, and the Con that they passed threw them curious glances. Ilyshn’ish did her best to ignore them and pretend that nothing at all was amiss.

The river eventually joined another as the patrol leader had described. They stopped at its banks, gazing across the silty current.

“Cau should be around here somewhere, I think?” Ilyshn’ish looked around, “How do they cross the river, anyway? It must be at least two hundred metres wide.”

A barge occasionally went by, but none stopped to ferry them across. After a few more vessels passed, Vltava sighed.

“「Mass Fly」.”

They skimmed across the water to the opposite shore. A set of Con mending fishing nets froze and stared at them as they landed on the town’s wharf. Vltava gave them a look.

“What?”

Ilyshn’ish picked up the murdersheep and scurried off.

“Stop trying to confront everything!” Ilyshn’ish said.

“Order must be established. They must learn to respect meh.”

“Did you just insert a bleat into the end of that sentence?”

“No.”

“You literally did!”

Ilyshn’ish let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. Despite their unassuming, isolated nature, the Krkonoše could casually toy with the way that the world translated language.

A sudden downpour drove them under the boughs of an unknown species of tree. She set Vltava down upon a protruding root and shook the water out of her coat.

“Look,” Ilyshn’ish said. “We can’t go around picking fights everywhere we go.”

“By firmly establishing a hierarchy,” Vltava replied, “future challenges will be avoided.”

“Where in the world is food on top of the hierarchy? No – don’t answer that. You heard that patrol leader: decent behaviour will get us by just fine. They’re just curious; they’re not challenging you.”

“And if they do?”

“In that case, they’re the ones who started it. It’s fine to defend oneself.”

Vltava flicked his ear and looked away. Ilyshn’ish sighed in relief and settled onto her haunches, watching the locals make their way through the rain.

“Where should we go first?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

“Did you not scout the area a few days ago with the Warden?” Pebble asked back.

“I did, but we didn’t go over every little bit of it. All of the interesting things that I noticed were further in.”

She eyed Pebble and Pinecone. Her strategy was to use them as a front and learn how things worked in Rol’en’gorek through their interactions. Instead, Vltava seemed to always take the initiative. Letting him do all of the talking was bound to start some sort of war – one that Vltava would probably win.

How do I set this up…

A dull rumble of thunder filled the air as the rain intensified. Some of the Beastmen passing by ran over to join them under their tree.

“Guess the rains have come a bit early this year,” a Con with a large pack sighed as he dragged himself in. “Oh, you’re not Ocelo. I haven’t seen your kind around here…”

“We’re from a people called the Krkonoše,” Ilyshn’ish shifted over on her root. “Please, have a seat. You look like you’ve travelled far.”

“Much obliged,” the Con said. “Name’s Qiro – a humble peddler on the Caura Run.”

“Winter Moon,” Ilyshn’ish introduced herself. “That’s Pebble, and that’s Pinecone. This is Vltava, who will become food eventually.”

Qiro looked across Ilyshn’ish at Vltava, stroking his jaw with a paw.

“Food eventually, eh…how big will he get?”

“He’s already an adult, but his antlers make him look half again as large when they’re fully grown.”

“Interesting. And you’re not eating him yet? Is he a stud for your herd?”

“Vltava has four mates,” Vltava said.

“I see,” Qiro nodded sagely. “Forgive an old Merchant for his habits, but do you offer any other products?”

The Krkonoše Druid directed his gaze at Pebble and Pinecone. Pinecone gestured to his belt.

“We have many items fashioned out of his wool,” he said. “These pouches, for instance. Or this sling. His antlers are used for medicine and accessories.”

“A sling? You’re warriors, then?”

“Hunters.”

“Hunters? Using ranged weaponry? You must have some pretty nasty beasties where you live. Or are they flying ones?”

“Once, there were Dragons,” Pebble said. “More recently, it has only been Magical Beasts. Manticores, Wyverns, Gryphons, Giant Eagles and the like.”

Ilyshn’ish eyed the sling in Pebble’s claws. It looked highly valuable, and, as a weapon, that meant it was also probably very powerful. Had she inadvertently become travelling companions with a group of dangerous predators? They mentioned Dragons, yet they had survived and the Dragons had not.

“Very nice,” Qiro gave the items an appraising look. “We mostly deal in Nug wool and leather, ourselves. How far are your territories? Clan Torokgha said that the expansion in the west might create opportunities for trade, but I didn’t expect those opportunities to come to us.”

“It’s not very far,” Ilyshn’ish said, “but there are certain obstacles in the way. We live on the other side of a large negative energy zone called the Katze Plains. There are a number of Human-inhabited lands around it.”

“Hmm…then I suppose old Qiro will be long gone before we see much from there. A pity – I always wanted to see a bit more of the world.”

“You have other borders, do you not?”

“Well,” Qiro said, “there’s the Lut but I’m no salt runner. The Clans down south control that trade anyway. Everywhere else, the neighbours are more likely to attack you than talk.”

“So you settle on peddling your wares on this ‘Caura Run’.”

“It’s not so bad,” Qiro leaned back and stretched his legs. “The people are good and friendly and they’re always happy to see old Qiro.”

“What sort of wares are you carrying right now?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

“Would you like to take a look? Just a moment here…”

The old Con pushed himself to his feet, going over to unpack his things. He laid out several large rolls of leather, bundles of wool, herbs, and strips of preserved meat. A few people came over to examine his goods.

“Since you’re heading to Cau,” Ilyshn’ish said, “does this mean that these products are from a village somewhere?”

“The villages up in the mountains nearby,” Qiro said. “They’re simple, honest folk, herding Nug and living off of the land.”

Though they were called something different, Nug seemed mostly identical to Nuk. She raised a strip of preserved meat to her face and sniffed it experimentally. They smelled the same, too.

“This appears to be edible. How far is it to the nearest city?”

“Oro’s about a hundred kilometres downriver.”

“How much meat are you carrying?”

Going by Zu Chiru’s journey through the Empire, prices for things were higher in cities than in the countryside. If she needed to pay for anything, she would rather pay less.

“I can part with sixty kilograms.”

“Do you accept trade coins?”

“Trade coins? That might be a bit much…”

In the end, she bought the meat, four rolls of leather, a bale of Nug wool and a bundle of each of the herbs that Qiro was carrying. The old Con Merchant looked down at the gold trade coin in his paw.

“Well, that sure is a weight off of my shoulders,” he said. “You folks plan on visiting for long?”

“We’re not even sure how large this place is,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “Do you have any recommendations as to where we should go?”

“They say Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr’s the centre of everything,” Qiro replied. “It’s halfway across Rol’en’gorek, though. Guess it’s not too long of a trip if you can afford a spot on a ship.”

“What about work? Is there something like an Adventurer Guild?”

The Con Merchant furrowed his brow.

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with what you just mentioned.”

“Ah, it’s something like a place where hunters can find work. Dealing with Magical Beasts, Monsters and the like.”

“We don’t have anything like that. The warrior clans take care of those problems.”

Argh, am I going to be losing coins all trip?

The trip to the Empire was highly lucrative, so she had hoped for the same in Rol’en’gorek.

“You can probably find work in the cities as menial labour,” Qiro offered. “The foremen always pick out the biggest and strongest. Aside from that, do you have any special skills?”

“I’m a Bard.”

“A Bard? That’s classy stuff. In that case, you might be able to find work in the high-class districts in the cities. Any clan with the means will take in a good Bard.”

That sounded far more promising than menial labour.

Eventually, the rains gave out and they parted ways with Qiro. They followed the Caura river on its southward course, passing through one town before reaching a Beastman city at the end of a modest lake. It, too, was populated by Con, but the architecture – if one could call it that – of the city was different from the settlements from before that took advantage of natural terrain for dens and other structures.

They joined a short line at the city entrance, which was marked by an opening in its overgrown earthen wall. Ilyshn’ish had a sense that it was there more to keep the jungle and elements at bay rather than serve any defensive function. When it came their turn, one of the sentries shouted up at her.

“Declare yourselves!”

Ilyshn’ish started at the sudden noise and looked down at the sentry.

“Just because I’m taller than you doesn’t mean that you need to shout up at me.”

“…sorry. State your name and your business in Oro.”

“My name is Winter Moon. My companions here are Pebble and Pinecone. The…what are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Vltava replied.

The Krkonoše Druid was standing between Pebble and Pinecone with a Con cub dangling off of him. The young felid Beastman wasn’t able to damage Vltava, but it appeared to be having the time of its life with his woollen coat.

“Whose child is this?” Ilyshn’ish called out.

“I’m so sorry!” one of the Con behind them gasped, “Kaya, you can’t do that! Let go, Kaya! Please forgive us, she’s still too young – she’s been pouncing on everything recently.”

“It’s not a problem,” Ilyshn’ish said, then turned back to the sentry. “This is Vltava.”

Vltava stared up at the sentries with his middle eye. The sentries eyed him warily.

“What is he?” One of them asked.

“Food,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “Eventually.”

“If he’s not to be eaten immediately,” the sentry said, “we have something you can use to–”

“Ah, if you’re talking about those bands, we have one. He doesn’t like them, though. Being marked as a non-consumable is an insult to one whose ultimate purpose is to be consumed.”

The sentries didn’t seem to have any answer to that. She took advantage of their confused silence to ask another question.

“By the way, I am a Bard by trade. Might you know of someplace where I might find suitable employ for the duration of my stay?”

“A Bard? Head to the Clanhold.”

“Thank you,” Ilyshn’ish said. “By the way, what is the name of the clan that presides here?”

“Con Oro.”

“Oro…as in the same name used for the city?”

“Yeah. The name of the place is the name of the clan in charge. That’s how it works around here.”

She thanked the sentry again before walking into the city. The morning’s rain had turned its streets into running streams that emptied into the river that cut through its centre. Thousands of Con made their way through the trees, those coming close to Ilyshn’ish’s group casting curious glances at them. Ilyshn’ish looked around for something that might be considered a ‘Clanhold’, but eventually gave up and approached a set of Beastmen loitering under a set of huge roots stretching out across the forest floor.

“Excuse me,” she asked. “Could you direct us to the Clanhold?”

One of the Con pointed past her shoulder, towards the top of a hill overlooking the lake. She thanked them before going on her way, looking back and forth at the wealth of new things as they made their way up.

“Is any of this at all familiar to you?”

“No,” Pebble said. “It’s strange…the appearance and behaviour of these ‘Con’ suggest they’re more suited for the highlands we first encountered them in. There’s a sense of awkwardness in their presence here.”

“You’re probably right about that,” Ilyshn’ish said, “but it’s a city. Instead of hunting, they work. Hunting ranges become meaningless, but one’s nature is not so easy to change. If I were to describe it, they haven’t made sense of urban realities yet.”

Upon closer inspection, it was simply a place where many gathered because work – and thus food – was available. There were labourers and a few merchants scattered about. People exchanged labour or goods for what they needed. Nothing resembled a workshop and industries appeared to revolve around fishing, ranching, leather, hand-woven textiles and timber.

Qiro’s ‘simple and honest folk’ could also be interpreted as ‘primitive’. At least if one judged things the way that Humans did. Since she was posing as one of the Krkonoše, however, she couldn’t express herself in that manner.

Strangely enough, thinking like a Dragon was more in line with the Krkonoše. Like Dragons, they had existed as an established culture for a very long time, and were far more advanced than most realised. It was to the degree that one couldn’t consider it in terms of ‘ahead’ or ‘behind’ – they were ancient, while most societies in the region were laughably young.

“The world will reject them, soon enough,” Vltava said as they strolled along a street-stream. “This recklessness can only end in a violent response.”

“Their course may still change,” Pinecone said.

“Too optimistic,” Vltava replied.

“Could you stop dooming them in the middle of the street?” Ilyshn’ish said, “What will happen to them will happen, but I’d rather not anything happen to us along the way.”

Dozens of sentries were already carefully monitoring their approach by the time they reached the rocky crest of the hill. The Beastmen present were all significantly stronger than those who dwelled below, though they still couldn’t match Pebble and Pinecone, never mind Vltava and herself.

“My name is Winter Moon,” Ilyshn’ish greeted the stern-faced guards with an elegant gesture. “I am a travelling Bard from the distant northwest, come to learn of Rol’en’gorek and its people.”

The sentries in the front looked over their shoulders, to a slightly larger Beastman standing higher up the land. He made his way down with a measured gait, coming to stand before her while making a gesture of his own.

“I am il-Enawe con Oro,” he said. “It would be our honour to receive you and your companions in our hold, Winter Moon.”