Chapter 1
“Hmm…keep harassing them, but make sure that those warriors manage to beat what you send. Have the Elder Liches with the lowest number of surviving dominated forces act first so they can head back to Katze and replenish their troops.”
Flying high above the dissolving Beastman camps, Ludmila issued orders while intently observing the unfolding chaos. With the Beastman forces reaching a breaking point in the valley battle, she ordered her forces to eliminate all of the identified Lord-class individuals once it appeared that a general withdrawal was being called. The point at which the Beastmen broke was, of course, purposely measured out in the back and forth of the hours-long battle.
A hundred Elder Liches carefully analysed and reported the disposition of the Beastman tribes across the front, allowing the Katze force to manage a fake stalemate that encouraged the enemy to keep fighting. Instinct and élan appeared to be the driving forces of their enemy, making fear and hope supremely effective tools to manipulate them with. With the arrival of the infantry company that was sent out before the battle to flank them, what hope Ludmila allowed them was unceremoniously crushed.
With their leaders dealt with, the stubborn fury of the tribes shattered in the face of an overwhelming offensive. The Beastman lines turned into pockets of desperate resistance, which were methodically collapsed and used to fill out the Death Knights’ Zombie contingents.
“Lady Zahradnik,” Saiko said to her right. “We have identified a significant Beastman asset.”
“Is it the Clan Lord?”
“No,” the Elder Lich replied. “The subject is of the ‘Nar’ variety.”
“Hmm…”
Interspersed amongst the Urmah were a few Nar, which appeared to be composed entirely of warriors. They were all significantly stronger than the other Beastmen, leading Ludmila to believe that they were mercenaries or perhaps something analogous to the Adventurers or Workers operating in Human lands.
“Let’s see if we can’t capture it,” Ludmila said. “If their warriors order themselves by strength, this one may have a wealth of useful information.”
“Understood."
“Have our Wraith contingents finished positioning themselves?”
“Deployment along the northern border up to the Seylan River is sixty per cent complete,” the Elder Lich replied. “They will be ready long before any retreating Beastmen approach.”
“Good,” Ludmila nodded. “Be extra careful that our forces aren’t seen close to Highfort. Let’s proceed with our plans and get the offensive for Blighthold going. Have we received any updates or amendments to our operations from the general staff?”
“Commander Lluluvien has not issued any new orders. Is there something you wish to convey to headquarters?”
“No, just checking. Let’s carry on.”
She turned her attention back to the throng of Beastmen fleeing their camps. Similar to how wilderness tribes functioned in open warfare, only the very young and very old had been left out of the fighting.
“Are we letting them go?” Raul asked.
“They’re more useful to us alive than dead,” Ludmila answered. “From what we’ve seen so far, these Beastmen care for their young. The Nar defending the Urmah children indicates that this protective behaviour applies between the different races in their society, as well.”
Confused looks crossed her apprentices’ faces as they listened to her from the backs of their Skeletal Dragons.
“How does that help, my lady?” Olga asked, “The adults are the ones that are killing everyone, aren’t they?”
“It’s not so much that I’m looking for any tactical or strategic gains,” Ludmila answered. “It’s more that we still know very little about these Beastmen. We need to develop a thorough understanding of them if we’re to conduct an effective campaign.”
Developing a ‘thorough understanding’ of their opponents would probably take longer than the campaign would last, but, hopefully, what they learned would apply to encounters with the same races in the future.
Raul adjusted his goggles as he peered down at the scattering Beastmen.
“What do we have to watch out for?”
“For now,” Ludmila said, “it would be to what lengths they’ll go to to ensure that other members of their society survive. Assuming that they will act like Humans is foolish, so don’t carelessly draw similarities to Human behaviour. We need to learn about each race by observing what we can of them and build our understanding from the ground up.”
“Each race?”
“That’s right. The Urmah, Nar, Kao, Ocelo and all the other types we’ve seen so far are probably all different species with different behaviours. We’ve been running on certain assumptions based on what little we’ve seen and things have fortunately worked to our advantage, but assumptions based on cursory observations are not something we want to depend on forever.”
The long-distance observation that they would be conducting across the front would only offer broad strokes to their knowledge, but those broad strokes were probably what they needed for their strategic planning.
“In that case,” Saiko said. “Shall we begin targeting the offspring?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ludmila replied. “What I want to see is how they act amongst themselves. That should offer us insights into their social structures, value systems and at what point everything starts to fall apart. We have an entire country filled with Beastmen to drive off, so having a sense of how they will act while we do so and what threats they may present to the Draconic Kingdom’s subjects while that happens is one of our priorities. Don’t do anything to influence their behaviour unless it’s to keep them on course and push them forward.”
The course in this case was back the way that they came. Those that strayed from that path would be encouraged to return to it. The Beastmen would be dissuaded from getting close to any Human settlements, as well. Hundreds of Wraiths patrolled the northern border while hundreds of Bone Vultures tracked tribal movements. Their ground forces would herd them southeast, rolling them back over the occupied territories and spreading awareness of the Undead advance.
In addition to observing their social behaviours, they would be measuring their long-distance endurance and the effects of stress and hunger on each species. What interested her the most, however, was what would happen once they started crossing into the territory of other clans.
Would they fight? Would they band together to face a common foe? What would they do to the Human populations under their control? Every act would offer valuable insights and present avenues of exploitation to more efficiently combat their foes.
“I still don’t get it,” Raul said. “Our army is so strong, so why does any of that matter? We could just tell the infantry squads to stomp everything flat and they’d do it. All those battles that we did over the winter feel pointless if a Commander can just point and everything dies.”
“That’s a complacent line of thinking, Raul,” she told him. “It’s true that, if it comes to a contest of raw strength, we hold an overwhelming advantage, but it does not mean we will always hold an advantage. In the event that we don’t, we need to be able to put up a real fight. Furthermore, what we’re doing here is not simply defeating our enemies: we’re learning about the world that we live in.”
“Then what about our training, my lady?” Olga asked, “Everything here is so huge compared to that. It’s like our league battles are just little games.”
“Well, that’s not incorrect,” Ludmila answered. “While they do get larger at higher leagues, I intended for them to be game-like matches. The purpose, however, is to challenge our Commanders. Challenge stimulates growth. As Raul has noted, obtaining victory with the Royal Army is ‘easy’. War is best fought unfairly, within reason. Everything we’re doing here so far is one-sided and we’ve been more concerned about gathering information and executing the best plans possible than struggling with a difficult adversary.”
“What do you mean by ‘challenge stimulates growth’?”
“Hmm…you should understand this already, no?” Ludmila said, “If you take on difficult tasks, you’ll go back to the things that you did before and find them remarkably easy. This tends to work for most experiences, so striving to do greater things all the time leads to rapid growth. That’s why I always encourage everyone to challenge themselves and allocate a portion of the demesne budget towards facilitating their advancement. Every person who advances in their craft makes Warden’s Vale that much better. As officers of the Royal Army, you need to become the best Commanders possible while you can afford to – not discover that your skills are insufficient when you can’t afford to lose.”
“I thought you did it because the scriptures said so,” Raul said.
“There is a reason why our scriptures say so,” Ludmila said. “Learning why they do helps greatly in understanding why the gods imparted that knowledge to us and its importance in our lives.”
She would elaborate further, but her own knowledge on the matter was incomplete and often abstract. While the vast majority of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s citizens weren’t aware of the existence of Class Levels and their effect on every aspect of their lives, they still grew and developed themselves.
Rather than directly imparting awareness of the ‘system’ to them, the Sorcerer King and his vassals agreed that indirect measures should be enacted to cultivate growth and development. The reasons for this were varied, but they were not necessarily at odds with one another.
Almost all were of the opinion that in-depth knowledge of Class Levels was to be suppressed because of the dangers that it represented. While it wasn’t guaranteed to be the case, it did not appear that the countries in the region were aware of their existence. Any knowledge of Class Levels spreading beyond the Sorcerous Kingdom’s borders could result in that knowledge being turned against them.
The group of the Sorcerer King’s courtiers that Ludmila was closest to – namely, Lady Shalltear and her two cousins – believed that development should be promoted in a naturalistic way and experimented in that direction. As Class Levels were theoretical concepts made manifest, incomplete concepts would result in incomplete Class Levels, or potentially some unforgivable snarl of disparate Class Levels.
Thus, it was better for society and its individuals to develop in a comprehensive manner. Each had a different take on how this ‘natural growth’ could occur.
Lady Shalltear tended to focus on ‘how things should be’ and ‘what looks good’, which usually solidified into themes for individuals. She was particularly touchy about women, which could be seen – or maybe felt – from how she treated her subordinates.
Ludmila was one set of ideas; Clara was another; Liane was something else and Florine was another bundle of things. Rather than anything concrete, it was all about ‘flavour’, ‘image’ or ‘sensation’. Even Ilyshn’ish was subjected to her influence, though the Frost Dragon was naturally naturalistic and needed no prompting to act that way.
Lady Aura’s vocation as a Beast Tamer seemed to dominate her views on Class development. Everyone was a thing that could evolve or grow to become a better thing. All those things had things they could do that were associated with the things that those things should be able to do. Despite the vagueness of everything, she was a strict disciplinarian and one could imagine her cracking her whip whenever she asserted herself on the topic.
Lord Mare probably had the most practice with Class development, as he ran the Adventurer Training Area. He was a bit spontaneous, but his efforts often brought about tangible results. Probably because everything he threw at the Adventurers was a life-and-death struggle around the time they reached Gold Rank.
The common thing about their approaches was that they were intuitive and ‘feely’, which drove rational thinkers like Clara and Liane crazy. Overall, however, the insights that they provided were instrumental in Ludmila and her friends’ efforts to analyse Class Level development and use that knowledge to create practical systems for the Sorcerous Kingdom.
Broadly speaking, the Sorcerous Kingdom was an experiment on a national scale and everyone was a source of data. Their lineage, upbringing, choices, careers, and the families that they raised – in short, the sum of their lives – served to paint a picture of how the world worked. How nature, economics, institutions, culture and society were affected by and affected the nation and its people were factored in. Ultimately, this knowledge went into efforts to seamlessly guide Class Level development through education, value systems and national ideas.
This was practised – both intentionally and unintentionally – by every civilisation that they knew of, no matter how primitive or advanced they appeared to be. Ludmila doubted that there were any exceptions to this. It was a fundamental aspect of the Class System: one was what they were and so they did what they did. Society naturally developed roles, and, as society evolved, cultural mores, specialised castes, institutions and all of the traditions and knowledge that were built up around them gave rise to new and unique Job Classes.
For the most part, it was ‘natural’, meaning that people pursued concepts passed down through ‘common sense’, lore and imagination rather than having any specific knowledge of the Job Class system and attempting to ‘force’ new jobs out of nothing. The most prevalent examples of the ‘natural’ process being perfected – or at least developed to a reliable form – could be found in the civilian sector with vocational advancement.
Children became apprentices starting around the age of six and their education was tailored to meet guild regulations. The Guilds were institutions that had evolved to manage the various industries and services that existed in society. The Temples could be seen as the 'Priest Guild' and had its own regulations and apprentices in the form of Acolytes and Squires. The Nobility was also an institution in the same sense: Noble scions became Pages and Maids, which were essentially apprenticeships in the aristocratic establishment.
As this had all existed in Re-Estize, the citizens of the Duchy of E-Rantel had inherited these systems and were intimately familiar with them. When knowledge of the Class System was applied, it reshaped one’s perception of apprenticeships and how they worked in relation to Class Levels became clear. Through generations of trial and error, systems of education had manifested ‘apprentice’ Job Classes that allowed students to safely advance in their vocations without risk of build contamination…assuming they didn’t go out of their way to do so.
The next step was to take the ‘apprentice system’ and apply it to formalised educational institutions with standardised curriculums. Two examples of such institutions existed in the region: the temple schools and universities of the Slane Theocracy and the Imperial Magic Academy of the Baharuth Empire, which fed into the Imperial Army’s Military Academy, the Imperial Ministry of Magic and the various other universities in Arwintar. Only Clara was somewhat familiar with the Theocracy’s universities, but they had all seen the Empire’s institutions and documentation of their methods and curriculums were available on demand if the Sorcerous Kingdom requested it.
Addressing the critical flaws in these existing systems was the first thing that needed to be done, but those flaws were not instantly remedied. The foremost of these flaws was the absence of basic universal education. It was understandably impossible in the Empire and even in the Sorcerous Kingdom, but there was one place in the Sorcerous Kingdom where it was possible: Warden's Vale. Since its population was tiny and its economy was optimised around the Sorcerous Kingdom’s new industrial practices, it had become a sort of laboratory for national development.
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That being said, having everything lined up perfectly didn’t mean that everything happened perfectly. The idea that they were a ‘laboratory’ was obvious with the experimental nature of everything that they did. Ludmila was an experimental subject. As were her tenants, their families and their industries. Olga and Raul were experimental apprentices and their party in the Draconic Kingdom Campaign was an experiment in practical education.
Ludmila gazed down at their current ‘laboratory’. Somewhere, someone would be decrying her for transforming an entire country into an experimental exercise. At least if they knew what was going on.
Then again, it was probably a matter of perspective. One learned life’s lessons in whatever they did.
“It looks like the camps are clear,” Ludmila said. “Make sure they’re dismantled and the contents sorted out for analysis while we give our new furry friends a decent lead.”
“It will be done, my lady.”
“How are things going down in the valley?”
“We have tallied approximately three thousand corpses,” Saiko reported. “Ninety per cent of the remaining Beastmen have been repurposed for our use. What shall we do with the corpses?”
“Send them to Lady Entoma,” Ludmila replied. “She’ll figure out what goes where. What happened to that ‘significant asset’ that I ordered captured?”
“Regrettably, they perished.”
She frowned at the unexpected answer.
“…were they so strong that we couldn’t subdue them? I don’t recall any significant losses to our forces being reported.”
“There were…unforeseen circumstances,” Saiko said. “A miscalculation, perhaps.”
“Elaborate.”
“What we deemed to be non-lethal means were employed to render the subject harmless. There were complications. The sergeants responsible for the capture operation hypothesise that the debilitating effects of our spells caused the subject to succumb to the effects of advanced age.”
It was a story-like development where an old warrior did not fall in battle, but to the ravages of old age. She hadn’t ever heard of one where it happened while they were being zapped by Elder Liches, however.
“What did you use?”
“Ray of Enfeeblement. Initial applications achieved the expected results, but continued applications caused the subject to perish.”
Could that happen? As far as she knew, ability damage could not bring the associated physical attribute to ‘zero’. Did that not take into account the effects of ageing? Or perhaps it was the target’s raw power keeping them from succumbing to frailty.
“That’s unfortunate,” she said. “We’ll have to keep this in mind in the future. Send the body to storage, but make sure that it’s catalogued as an exceptional subject. Maybe someone back in the Sorcerous Kingdom can do something with it.”
Ludmila let out a quiet sigh, wondering how much information had been lost.
“We’re going to Blighthold next, right?” Raul asked.
She turned her gaze to the south, where a bank of fog was creeping down the shore.
“That’s right,” she smiled slightly. “Blighthold is next. Another captain will be doing the honours, however – one who has been waiting for this for a long, long time.”
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A cool gust of night wind rolled in from the sea and blew over the walls. Derdora Oslith shivered and rubbed his arms. He peered at the shoreline to the northwest of Blighthold, where a strange fog had been creeping slowly towards the city since nightfall. A curse rolled off his tongue.
“Just what we need. Old Iškur’s hatin’ on us something fierce.”
“Watch your mouth, boy,” a man twenty years his senior sent a baleful gaze his way. “We already got enough problems without the storm god raining lightning down on our heads.”
“This fog’s too early,” Chester, another sentry, noted. “Can’t be an hour past midnight.”
“See what you did!” The older man spat, “Had to wag your tongue like that.”
“What!” Derdora scowled back at him, “It was already there before I said anything!”
“Hey!” A voice echoed from the nearest tower, “Quit your blathering and watch those Beastmen!”
Who the hell put him in charge?
He sent a dirty look at the top of the tower, where a man that was far too well-fed lounged on a cushy chair.
“We should throw his ass off the wall,” Derdora muttered. “Bet he’d feed a Beastman family for a week.”
“I’d shut up if I were you,” Chester’s voice was low. “Last person who said that accidentally tripped so hard he flew over the merlons.”
Derdora tucked his spear – a sharpened stick, really – under his arm, scratching his head with his free hand. He wasn’t sure what was worse: the Beastmen outside the walls or the people who took charge of the city after the occupation set in: they were all Merchants and shady folk who could bribe or coerce people into following them.
Life had turned into a free-for-all in Blighthold. It probably wasn’t the Beastmen’s fault. Not directly, at least.
The invaders had overrun the countryside, but the way they stayed on top of things was strange. For the most part, people were left alone. Humans could travel from place to place so long as they didn’t try to leave the territory. The Beastmen sunk all the boats for the same reason. Anyone caught trying to fix the boats was eaten.
Farming villages kept farming and the fishing villages kept fishing from the shore. Woodcutters had some problems because the tribes moved into the bigger copses, but fuel was generally not a problem with so many people gone.
Up to that point, life was oddly close to normal. After that, everything revolved around how the Beastmen ‘managed’ things.
One would’ve never thought it, but there was a specific order to how they ate people. First, they went after strong people. It didn’t matter whether they fought or not. Soldiers, militia, hunters, Adventurers…even Priests and Alchemists were targeted. They made a point of dragging off arcane casters when they noticed them.
Secondly, they went after leaders, or at least what they recognised as leaders. This mostly meant the Nobles. After that, they ate the ‘useless’. The streets of the towns and cities were picked clean of spares and homeless people. Anyone that resembled bureaucrats, clerks, scribes, Sages or Bards were dinner sooner or later. Everyone over forty or so was taken, too.
Lastly, the Beastmen got rid of metalworkers, bowyers and anyone who could make things that could hurt them. Not having metal tools to work with made life extraordinarily difficult and a lot of things were starting to fall apart.
Overall, the citizens of Blighthold and its surrounding territories were rendered harmless. They could work, eat and not much else. To top things off, there were so many Beastmen around that they were getting eaten into oblivion.
The past two days had seen the Lion Beastmen in the north vacate the area, which gave Blighthold’s defenders hope that they recognised the problem and had finally decided to move on. Unfortunately, the clan to the south came over the river to take their place. They were much better climbers than the previous bunch, making watch duty harrowing.
“That fog bank’s gettin’ close to the wall.”
“Think the Beastmen’ll use it to sneak in and snatch some people?”
“Probably.”
Even though they overpowered Humans, Beastmen loved to ambush, pounce on and chase their prey. It was never enough to simply drag someone away.
Derdora leaned over the edge of the battlements, looking for predators lurking below. The skies were clear and the moon was bright, making would-be raiders easy to spot. With the approach of the fog, however, he was absolutely sure something would end up on the walls to snatch a meal.
“Hey Chester,” he said quietly, “let’s head over to the brazier.”
“We won’t be able to see anything from there.”
“We won’t be able to see shit in that fog anyway!”
“Look,” Chester said, “we can’t do that. The only chance we got is to poke Beastmen off the wall while they’re climbin’ up. If they make it to the top cause we weren’t at our spots, we got no chance.”
They stared at each other for a good, long while. Then an arm with spotted fur reached in between the merlons and snatched Chester off of the wall.
“Shit!” Derdora shouted, “Shit! Shit! Shit! ALARM! We got Beastmen over here!”
He leaned over the parapet, jabbing at the Jaguar Beastman clinging to the wall. Three more were climbing up nearby and twice as many were emerging from the creeping fog below. The point of his wooden spear found the Beastman’s eye and it released its hold, disappearing into the mist.
I…did I kill it? By Her Majesty’s mosquito bites, I killed one!
It couldn’t have survived that fall. Beastmen were tough, but they weren’t that tough. He ran over and started jabbing at the next closest climber.
“Dammit! What the hell are you doing, fatass?! Sound the alarm!”
The alarm didn’t sound despite more shouts rising along the wall. Derdora drove his spear into the shoulder of another Beastman before the others finished crawling over. He took a stab at the nearest one before kicking the brazier towards them. The Beastmen scattered back and Derdora fled in the other direction, the fog rolling over his feet.
Shrieks of men being torn apart followed his panicked footsteps. A loud thud drowned them out as he slammed the tower door shut and barred the entry. He leaned against the wall, chest heaving under his chainmail armour. He saw more men being shredded out the opposite door and ran over to slam that one shut, too.
He backed away from the doors with wide eyes, waiting for the scrape of claws and the pounding of Beastmen breaking their way in. It didn’t happen. After a few breaths, reason returned to him.
The Beastmen camped near the city weren’t that strong. That he could get away at all was proof of that. They wouldn’t be able to break down iron-reinforced doors.
What do I do…
He could go down the stairs and into the city, but, if the walls were taken, the Beastmen would be dragging the citizens out of their beds soon enough. His eyes followed the stairwell up. He grew more annoyed by the moment.
Why isn’t that asshole sounding the alarm?
Derdora padded up the stairs. If the fat bastard had fallen asleep, he’d push him off the wall himself.
Fog flowed over the steps and he froze at the sight that greeted him. The watch sergeant was lying on the floor, staring up at the sky. His torso was torn open, snapped ribs turning his chest into a toothy maw. A pair of bright yellow eyes met Derdora’s as the Beastman feasting on the man looked up from its meal.
With a wordless shriek, he lunged forward with his spear. The point jabbed into the Beastman’s arm, but it failed to penetrate its hide. A snarl filled the air and the Beastman rose to its full height, snatching Derdora’s weapon away and casting it over the parapet.
In the distance, the clang of alarms carried over the blowing wind.
What was the point in coming up here?
A paw slammed into his chest, driving out his breath and scattering links of mail over the stone. His shoulder hit the doorframe and he bounced off, falling heavily to the floor. The Beastman’s claws scraped over the floor as it came to tower over him.
Derdora pulled his dagger, driving the point down at the furry foot in front of him. The Beastman pulled back and kicked him to the side. Derdora’s helmet banged against the wall and his vision blanked for a moment.
“Is that all you have, Human?” The Beastman sneered.
He turned his swimming gaze up at the massive Demihuman. Then his eyes went past it to a wooden wall that had appeared just past the parapet. Derdora raised a gloved hand weakly to point at it.
The Beastman turned just in time to see a swarm of brilliant bolts streaking towards it. They soundlessly struck its chest and the Beastman flopped lifelessly to the ground. Derdora looked up to find countless points of crimson light in portholes that drifted by the tower.
A ship? But…huh?
Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought. Then again, the Beastman was very much dead. He pushed himself to his feet, shuffling over to the tower’s parapet. Derdora squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, but what he saw didn’t change.
Sailing outside the wall was a massive galleon with tattered sails that glowed in the moonlit mist. Never mind that it shouldn’t be able to sail in that condition, the outside of the northern wall was land.
As the ship cruised silently along the city’s fortifications, dozens of figures leapt out from a gaping hole in its hull, landing on the walls. Wicked scimitars flashed as they fell upon the Beastmen, sending arcs of liquid crimson into the moonlight.
Derdora leaned forward, eyes following the vessel as it rounded the walls. Magical bolts continued to stream from the portholes of the ship, sweeping Beastmen away like a torrent of brilliant hail. A tremendous arc of electricity emanated from the galleon’s bow and coursed over the wall, burning its afterimage in his vision. When his sight recovered, only a line of charred bodies remained where three dozen invaders once stood.
The fog grew thick, obscuring the mysterious vessel, but brilliant flashes of light marked its deadly course. Derdora took a step back, trying to make sense of what was going on.
They appeared to be allies, but the Draconic Kingdom didn’t have any allies with flying galleons. He paced around the tower, looking down at the forces that had stormed the walls. Crimson points of light stared up at him from bare skulls. Derdora stumbled away from the edge with a fearful shout.
Skeletons?!
He scrambled down the tower stairs, nearly falling twice. The Undead were attacking them? No, the Beastmen were being attacked by the Undead…no, that didn’t make any sense. They were enemies of all life, meaning that Humans would be attacked alongside the Beastmen.
Derdora reached the city streets, finding the citizens out of their homes and looking up at the walls in confusion. They probably couldn’t make out the figures in the fog, else there’d be mass panic.
“Soldier!”
A man called out to him. Derdora looked away.
I’m not a soldier, dammit! I just manned the wall for some bread…
“Soldier! What’s going on up there?”
Dozens of eyes were on him now. He kept walking.
“Soldier! What’s going–”
“I don’t know!”
He needed to escape before the Undead moved from butchering the Beastmen to butchering the citizens. His steps took him towards the city’s main gate. A small crowd had formed there and nervous murmurs filled the air.
“The Undead…”
“The Undead have come!”
“They’ve taken the wall – how do we get out?!”
The gatehouse was taken as well. Powerful-looking Skeletons with round shields and the same scimitars that slaughtered the Beastmen barred the way.
Derdora turned around. If the gate was blocked, they could only swim out of the port. By the time he made it there, however, the wharf was lined by the Undead.
Moored at the longest pier was the ship that had flown by the wall. Atop its mainmast was a vermilion ensign with a gold insignia that he had never seen before. A gangplank extended from the galleon to the pier and a tall figure disembarked. The steady tap of a cane against wooden planks echoed over the water as it strode through the mist at a leisurely pace.
Rather than fleeing the approach of whatever it was, the people waited with fearful looks. There was no escape and the being making its way over had surely come to announce their fate.
The first thing Derdora noticed was that it wasn’t Human. Not that he expected it to be a Human, but for some reason he thought it’d be an Undead thing in some Human shape. It was tall – as tall as a Beastman Lord. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a Beastman: at least a Skeleton of one. Above a finely-tailored outfit that should’ve probably gone on a Noble, two crimson points flared in the empty sockets of its bestial skull. A broad tricorne with a huge white plume rested atop its head.
It took two steps onto the boards of the wharf, then stopped. More than a few audible swallows could be heard from the crowd.
“You’ll have to forgive me, ladies and gentlemen,” the Undead Beastman said, “but we can’t let you out of the city for a while.”
A long silence stretched into the night. Was that it?
“How…how long is ‘a while’?”
The Undead Beastman’s gaze fixed onto the speaker. A fearful gasp rose from the man. He covered his mouth and shook his head as if to deny that he had spoken.
“Hmm…a week, maybe?” The Undead Beastman said, “The fellows out there are being cleared away and we don’t want them running in here.”
“Cleared away?” Someone asked, “What does that mean?”
“It means what it means. These lands are being liberated and you’ll be back to your regular lives soon enough.”
Murmurs of worry and disbelief rose from the crowd. Was he telling the truth? Was there any reason to make up such a tale? The Undead were beings of unfathomable evil, so there must be some dark purpose behind its words.
“Wh-who are you?”
The Undead being rose to its full height at the question. The crowd took a collective step back.
“The name’s Iškur – Captain of the Ruin’s Wake and chief proprietor of the Katze Merchant Company,” it swept the hat off of its head and performed a strangely elegant bow. “I look forward to doing business with you.”