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Chapter 4
6th Day, Upper Water Month, 0 CE
It took a week of paddling up the Rol’en’gorek to reach the Clanhold of T’ak. Rana Saj stopped for a day each at Ulixit and Korrogh – the two cities along the river to their destination – to check for new developments with the local Lords. Aside from that, their journey was uninterrupted, uneventful, and filled with casual conversation.
T’ak was a clanhold nestled in the rocky foothills where the ranges of the Jorgulan Front met with those of the Worldspine. The settlement served as the northeasternmost terminus of the country’s river transportation network and the surrounding territory was home to the ‘Con’, a race of felid Beastmen previously unknown to the Beastman Confederacy. They were a tan-furred people who were slightly smaller than Baagh, with the common individuals ranging from two to two-and-a-half metres tall.
Despite living on the high fringes of the jungle valley, there was little sense that the Clanhold was ‘remote’ or ‘backwards’ compared to the rest of the country. It used the same, simple architecture and pragmatic logic for urban development as all of the other settlements in the river basin they had passed through thus far. T’ak’s markets and limited industry were positioned along the riverfront while residential areas were higher on the forested slopes.
“From here, it’s a day’s march to the Gor’lior,” Rana Saj told them. “The fortress has a settlement that services the forces stationed in the pass, but, if you have any special needs, you may want to make sure they are addressed before departing T’ak.”
“How high is this fortress?” Saraca asked, “What sort of weather should we expect?”
“It can be chilly in the winter,” the Rana answered. “The local Con tribes occupy the territory up to around one hundred kilometres north of the fortress. A good amount of snow comes down for a few months of the year at the higher altitudes, but the pass itself rarely remains snowbound.”
“So you have something like a permanent problem in the north,” Saraca said. “Tribes suited to frozen alpine climes won’t have any trouble defending against further advances. The turning of the seasons will see territorial holdings shift back and forth.”
As with many parts of the world, environmental changes – be they seasonal or daily shifts in temperature, the cycle of rains, or other phenomena – produced patterns of raiding and migration in turn.
For instance, seasonal rains and flooding turned otherwise difficult areas for aquatic and semi-aquatic races into prime feeding grounds. This was, by Rana Saj’s account, what was happening on the Jorgulan Front. On Rol’en’gorek’s northern frontier, races with advantages in high mountain environments came and went with the coming and going of winter. By the same token, it was practically impossible to oust them from territories that were frozen year-round.
Unfathomably complex systems arose from the interactions that occurred between shifting biomes – seemingly insignificant local events could influence the fate of beings throughout the region, which in turn might change the world. The story of Rol’en’gorek was a prime example of this: a jungle nation had arisen in a region blessed by a single, expansive river network. In less than two hundred years, they expanded to the extent that their level of technology, magic and thinking allowed; now they were learning the necessary steps to reach beyond the cradle of their civilisation.
This, of course, came with all sorts of challenges. Especially when societies rose swiftly. In a word, the development of early civilisations was often imbalanced. Since calamities commonly befell entire regions of the world, this tended to be the case more often than not.
The most resourceful and aggressive survivors of each calamity would find themselves in a situation where the highly valuable lands left behind by their destroyed predecessors were free for the taking. If they were lucky – or unlucky, depending on what it was – some portion of their predecessor’s legacies would remain. In a favourable situation, the result was an explosive resurgence of the races of the civilisation that had flourished there previously.
Depending on what they retained or recovered, the cultures that arose could vary widely. Those that had lost everything would have to relearn the lessons that they had forgotten, and many of them never did before another calamity visited ruin upon them.
“Tell me, Rana Saj,” Saraca asked, “when did the tribes of Rol’en’gorek start banding together in common cause?”
“It depends on which part of the Rol’en’gorek,” Rana Saj answered. “Generally speaking, the ‘banding together’ of large clans started in the east. About a century ago, the furthest extent of our side’s expansion was roughly three hundred kilometres into the Jorgulan Reach.”
Saraca turned away from his assessment of the surrounding foothills, giving Rana Saj a sidelong look.
“Really, now?” He said, “What happened?”
“The Jorgulans banded together in common cause,” Rana Saj replied wryly. “Erelesa was about half-conquered by a half-dozen independent Beastman clans from this side before it turned around and joined the nascent alliance that is now called the Jorgulan Commonwealth. They pushed us straight back over the mountains. When that happened, our easternmost clans also formed an alliance to resist further incursion. Once the border situation stabilised, the newly allied eastern tribes turned their political will westward.”
“So the current confederation is the product of diplomacy?”
“It was more practicality than anything else,” the Rana told him. “The notion of collective security was attractive to the tribes of the north and the south. In the central valley, many small kingdoms had already formed, but they saw how the hand of fate was moving. It’s strange how that happens: it took less than a generation to accomplish, but, before then, everyone was preoccupied with their own holdings and immediate neighbours until a greater force acted upon us from the outside.”
“Was there no resistance at all to those advances?”
“There was nothing that could be called a major conflict. Though there are thousands of tribes, we share more similarities than differences. Diplomacy and the recognition of economic advantages did most of the work.”
As a whole, the Confederation of Rol’en’gorek was primitive by the standards of the Beastman Confederacy. However, it still boasted a colossal economy. This economy was almost entirely what carnivorous Beastmen would consider ‘agrarian’. Not only did this mean that its industries revolved around forestry and ranching, but it also meant that its population was also one of its principal products.
According to Rana Saj, over twelve million Beastman dwelled in Rol’en’gorek. More importantly, its tribal civilisation had evolved from its primal state by several steps, transforming into a society that shared many similarities with the Beastman Confederacy of antiquity. One of the most notable similarities was the formalisation of a simple caste system, which was central to nearly every known major Demihuman state. Rol’en’gorek’s system was largely unrefined, but it was essential if they wanted to step out into the wider world.
Even without it, there was something to be said for the sheer inertia that Rol’en’gorek possessed. The population growth and resulting demand for territory were enough to constitute a major crisis for most countries if they found themselves on the receiving end of a migration.
Several members of Saraca’s house guard appeared with Devi, who had loaded them up with goods like peddlers. His first wife was not a combatant, so she usually found her own things to do during the more militant legs of their journey. Usually, this meant she would be ‘investigating the local economy’, which was Devi’s way of saying that she was going off to have her own fun.
“So,” Saraca asked, “what are you inflicting on the locals this time?”
“I’m not inflicting anything,” Devi gave him a look. “Merchants provide goods and services.”
“So, what goods and services are you inflicting on the locals this time?”
The Merchant’s daughter rolled her eyes.
“We’re headed to a garrison, so what do you expect? Liquor, better quality provisions from the usual, medicinal salves and tinctures. That sort of thing. The way that warriors here distinguish themselves also means we can stock equipment once the achievements start rolling in.”
“And I’m sure our warriors will appreciate your services,” Rana Saj said. “Now that you’re ready, we should make our way to the fortress while the light is still good.”
“You mentioned that it’s a day away,” Saraca said, “but how many kilometres is a day’s march for your warriors?”
“Forty kilometres on flat, unobstructed terrain,” the Rana replied. “The trail ascends two thousand metres from here, but we should make it in good time.”
An army column only moved as quickly as its slowest members, so its marching speed was an indicator of the strength and composition of any force. What races were present also heavily factored into that calculation. As far as civilians went, most felid Beastmen could only cover about twenty kilometres in a day. Clan Ki’ra was composed entirely of Baagh, so it suggested that the warrior clan was decently strong.
“Should we expect attacks along the way?” Saraca asked.
Decades of tribal warbands marching along the trail turned it into more of a wide road. Its orange clay, which was characteristic of jungle environments the world around, was parched and cracked. A thin cloud of dust rose behind them, carried off by the unceasing mountain winds. Saraca eyed the valley below and the slopes above, idly identifying potential ambush locations.
“We’re coming to the start of the dry season,” Raj Sana answered, “so any remaining tribal holdouts would be hidden deep in the valleys.”
“They don’t retreat with the end of the summer monsoon?”
“Oh, they try. We’ve been at this for generations now, so hurting the Jorgulans as much as possible has become a regular part of our overall strategy. When the rains come, the Jorgulans push hard. We don’t contest them much – we focus on preserving our forces while withdrawing deep into our side of the mountains.”
“I see. So you trap as many here as possible before the season turns.”
Rana Saj bore his fangs in a savage grin.
“Exactly. We take the high passes, avoiding the valleys to come behind them and cut off their retreat. Then nature takes its course. The trapped Jorgulans can only withdraw further into our territory as the mountain valleys dry up. We get rid of them at our leisure at the beginning of winter before pushing over the pass.”
“Surely they’ve caught onto this…”
“The Jorgulan forces do not have a unified command structure,” Rana Saj said. “Each power in the Commonwealth contributes its own forces, but they each only answer to themselves. Even within those forces, there is a high degree of independence.”
“How does that differ from Rol’en’gorek?”
“Not that much, to be honest,” Rana Saj chuckled. “A clan like Ki’ra is a match for a country on the other side, should we muster our full might. I suppose the main difference is that Rol’en’gorek’s clans all follow the same overarching defensive strategy. The warrior clans rotate responsibilities, allowing us to maintain the same strength on the border over the year.”
In other words, they were probably just as ‘independent’ as their neighbours on the offence. A clan like Ki’ra had hundreds of constituent tribes, with each tribal chieftain answering only to Rana Saj. Given the apparent nature of the conflict, each season probably saw tens of thousands of low-intensity engagements akin to raids or skirmishes. That being said, he wouldn’t be surprised if hundreds of thousands of people were lost every year – many small battles tended to add up.
“Is there anything that breaks the usual ebb and flow of the war?” Saraca asked.
“For the first decade or so,” Rana Saj answered, “both sides tried to match forces. That proved to be a colossal mistake on our part. Things became too…predictable. They could loosely pinpoint our champions since we were using them to keep theirs in check.”
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“The same could be said in reverse,” Saraca noted.
“True,” the Rana replied, “but our side doesn’t have Dragons.”
“So by knowing where your strongest elements were, they also knew where they weren’t.”
Rana Saj nodded grimly, a low growl rising from his throat.
“Dragons excel when the difference in individual power is great. A weak warband can’t even scratch an Adult Green Dragon, and that Dragon can kill hundreds or even thousands in seconds. By defining where the risks to the Dragons were, they also knew where they could strike with impunity.”
“How often do they appear now?”
“Rarely. Now that we’ve put together forces that can reliably kill Adult Greens, they won’t show their cowardly faces.”
“I’m curious, Rana Saj,” Karuvaki asked, “have your forces developed any spells or Skills or Martial Arts to fight your draconic adversaries with?”
“We have. Dragons are ultimately what keep us from conquering the Commonwealth, so most of our free resources have been committed to dealing with them.”
“Is what you’ve come up with only useful against Green Dragons or are they effective against Dragons in general?”
“Proving that is difficult. The Blue Dragons of the Great Lut would obliterate our entire country if we challenged them. We sent some expeditions to slay the Red Dragons in the volcanic southwest, but none have returned. The Draconic Kingdom in the west is ironically dragonless. My father went and killed an Adult Brass Dragon with a handful of our Dragonslayers about a decade ago, and they claim that their methods worked.”
Saraca looked towards the snow-capped peaks peeking out between the peaks in the north.
“Are there any Dragons in this part of the Worldspine?” He asked.
“I don’t doubt it,” Rana Saj answered, “but we haven’t seen any. Then again, the tribes of the Worldspine are so belligerent that even Dragons might not be able to survive there.”
Or they could just be that reclusive. The Brightness Dragon Lord laired in the highest peak of the Worldspine, far to the southeast. He never went out of his way to show anyone that he was around. Powerful Dragons were involved in affairs that were beyond the understanding of mortals. They only meddled in mortal affairs if it suited their purposes.
As Rana Saj promised, they arrived at Gor’lior early with daylight to spare. The fortress was fashioned out of a butte overlooking the centre of the ten-kilometre-wide valley at the end of the Jorgulan Frontier’s northernmost pass. Unlike most fortifications built in passes, it was clearly not designed to stop anyone from bypassing it. Instead, it was meant to withstand long sieges over the wet season, its garrison sallying forth when the jungles dried up to trap overly-aggressive Jorgulan forces in Rol’en’gorek.
“You’re going to be here through the summer?” Saraca asked.
“No,” Rana Saj answered. “A warrior clan is only responsible for a single season. This time, our responsibility is to clean out the trapped Jorgulan forces while the previous clan bars them from crossing back over the pass. We’ll be raiding the Jorgulans over the winter, but another clan will come to relieve us when the monsoon arrives.”
“Is the fortress on the other side controlled by you or the Jorgulans?”
“It changes ownership seasonally. During the dry season, it’s the main base for our offensives in northern Erelesa. We abandon the position during the wet season. Trying to defend the fortress year-round isn’t worth it.”
“Even so,” Devi said, “your logistics must be extensive to fight over these mountains year-round.”
The Rana looked away.
“Logistics, eh…”
“…you can’t be serious,” Devi was aghast.
“Well, it isn’t as if we have no logistics to speak of.” Rana Saj said, “It’s just that substantial logistics are impractical. Proper supply lines would be targeted by raids – both from the Jorgulan tribes and their draconic masters. Guarding those supply lines ties up valuable warriors. The frontier can’t be perpetually held by any tribe on either side, so our forces simply feed themselves through hunting the plentiful prey in this wilderness.”
It was the most basic form of warfare, hailing back from before the dawn of known civilisation. Despite this, it was still effective…or perhaps it had gotten more effective as civilisations advanced. Tribal conflict rooted in survival – securing food, water and other essentials – became more lucrative as tribes advanced. Manufactured goods could be gained, as could knowledge and slaves. By waging war, one power could steal the productivity of another.
“Is the equipment scheme of your warriors also the result of this?” Saraca asked.
“That’s right,” Rana Saj answered. “We fight according to our natural advantages. Fresh warriors have very basic equipment and none of it is enchanted. The best use full panoplies of magical armour and other items.”
Saraca eyed the Rana’s bodyguard. All of them were fully equipped, and most had several enchanted pieces. When he and his entourage had arrived at the Ki’ra docks, however, the vast majority of the embarking warriors wore little beyond vests of sturdy Nuk leather.
“And do the Jorgulans do the same?”
“For the most part,” the Rana replied. “The races of the Commonwealth vary widely in their traits, but nearly all of them possess a noxious nature. Well, that part won’t be a problem for your party – even for your Merchant wife.”
“In that case, shouldn’t poison resistance items be ‘safe’ to use by your warriors? It isn’t as if we have natural weapons of that type.”
“Those are usually the first items that young warriors try to purchase, but the demand is high relative to the number of artisans.”
He pondered the matter-of-fact way in which the Ki’ra ruler conveyed himself. Clan Ki’ra’s organisation was good enough for Saraca to need to remind himself that they were still primitive in their systems of governance, economy and military service. The fact that they referred to their soldiers as ‘warriors’ should have served as an indication that they were still very much using a system of tribal prestige. New warriors had to prove themselves on the field before earning the right to wear anything beyond basic equipment. Before reaching adulthood, their ‘training’ amounted to playing and hunting in their home jungles.
“Do you have any children, Rana Saj?” Saraca asked, “Fighting on this frontier, perhaps?”
“Three,” the Rana answered. “And three more on the way. But only my eldest can be considered an adult. I believe he acquitted himself well during his first season on the Jorgulan Front.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
A hint of fatherly pride could be sensed in the Baagh Lord’s voice and posture.
“He had a quiet start, but he distinguished himself in an Ichaani ambush about a month into the monsoon two years ago. Using a rock, if his claims are to be believed.”
“What are the Ichaani like, here? There are many different subraces.”
“They’re bluish-green in the Jorgulan Basin,” Rana Saj told him. “Their shells have rows of tiny envenomed spines. The venom affects coordination and can build up to become paralytic.”
Though the ones that Saraca knew of didn’t like being compared to them, the Ichaani were crayfish Demihumans. They had heavy shells as tough as steel plate armour and their large claws were employed to grapple and tear apart their prey or opponents. Slashing attacks – as felid Beastmen were wont to use – were predictably ineffective against them. Fortunately, Ichaani were slow in the water and even slower on land.
“According to Hhrolhr,” the Rana continued, “his raiding party strayed too close to a flooding creek. It’s a common error for new warriors: they grow impatient and try to bring the fight to the enemy, giving away an advantageous position or entering a disadvantageous one.”
“I suppose that’s the same wherever one is,” Saraca said. “We are born to stalk and pounce. Those of your warrior caste should at least address instinctual problems when instructing youths, yes?”
“I’m sure he knew,” Rana Saj replied. “He wasn’t the leader of the raiding party, though. That fool was the first to go under. Hhrolhr not only survived, but he salvaged the situation by exploiting the Ichaani’s overconfidence in their initial success. He took command of the broken group and lured those oversized crayfish far out of the water.”
“Surely they shouldn’t fall for that?”
“Whether they should or shouldn’t have doesn’t change the fact that it happened. Perhaps they were young, as well. Once they strayed far enough, Hhrolhr turned around and started bashing away at them with a small boulder. I don’t ever recall teaching him to do that, but if it works…”
As cumbersome as they were on land, being chased by a Beastman intent on cracking them open with a rock was likely a terrifying thing to an Ichaani.
“Did he get all of them?”
“Most of them. He claimed a dozen kills in that battle alone. The surviving members of the raiding party collectively managed five times that. His season was filled with fighting following that battle. Every patrol managed to run into the enemy and every raid was a success.”
“Is the opponent’s race determined by which kingdom or faction claims the same part of the front?”
“No,” Rana Saj shook his head. “It’s determined by the amount of rain. The Commonwealth forces are evenly distributed across the front, but which ones can advance depends on the terrain. The wetter it gets, the more races you see. Ichaani, for instance, only come when the rivers flood and act as heavy infantry.”
“How do your tribes deal with such a versatile foe?”
“What we’ll encounter at each stage is more or less predictable. We don’t fight to hold our ground, so it limits what they can throw at us.”
“Right.”
Even the strategies used by Rol’en’gorek spoke of their undeveloped martial traditions. Much like how wilderness tribes competed, the Beastmen here applied steady pressure through raids and drawn-out conflict. This wasn’t bad in itself, but Saraca wondered how their overall situation might improve if something more complex was employed.
“Is there any sign of the Jorgulan’s overall situation growing worse over the years?”
“It’s difficult to say,” Rana Saj said. “When we inflict particularly devastating losses to certain races over the course of the year, we’ll notice reduced numbers. Even so, it doesn’t buy us much of a reprieve.”
“But what about their other borders? Shouldn’t significant losses on this front weaken them as a whole?”
“Our information on the Commonwealth’s other affairs is gained second-hand through Merchants in the Great Lut. The desert spans across the southern border of three different powers: Rol’en’gorek, the Commonwealth, and another group of countries that call themselves the League of Mor-Golor.”
“What is Stormport’s relationship to the Jorgulans and Mor-Golor?” He asked.
“The same as ours, apparently,” Rana Saj answered. “Stormport trades with all three of its northern neighbours.”
Saraca pondered the Rana’s information. It was, quite frankly, dangerous to rely on the Stormport’s Merchants for information. The desert empire had a vested interest in keeping its northern neighbours at each other’s throats. At the same time, a collection of states dominated by Green Dragons couldn’t be trusted to do anything but obey the whims of its cunning and subversive masters. If the people there couldn’t overthrow their overlords, then they had to be overthrown before they grew to a problematic age.
“In that case,” Saraca said, “how good is the Commonwealth’s relationship with its other neighbours?”
“Not good at all,” Rana Saj replied. “Presumably, they war with the Worldspine’s denizens just as much as we do. The same applies to the tribes along their southern border. Mor-Golor is also at war with the Commonwealth. The Jorgulans will also attack travellers and Merchants from the Great Lut if they go beyond the trading posts on their border.”
“Is there some reason why they’re so universally belligerent?”
“That should be self-explanatory,” Rana Saj said. “No one can trust their masters and their masters trust no one. War is the only way.”
Except that it’s not…
The problem appeared to be threefold. First, primal competition set a premise for aggression. Secondly, the reputation of Green Dragons was just that terrible. Thirdly, Stormport appeared to be feeding any and all interested parties a narrative crafted to support their monopoly on each country’s trade.
Several solutions existed in other regions in similar situations. The natural ‘solution’ – where a combination of environment, resources and local powers achieved equilibrium – could only happen to the north and the south.
Along most of its length, the southern side of the Worldspine was fed by monsoons that swept in from the Syrillian Way. According to the Druids in their entourage, the Great Lut generated a colossal vortex that dictated the patterns of weather across the northwestern part of the continent. The weather resulting from the vortex and the rivers flowing down from the mountains resulted in a thick band of vegetation south of the Worldspine. Civilisations that arose within that band had the unfortunate – or fortunate, depending on whether one was strong or weak – tendency to expand along it until advancements in technology and magic allowed them to settle in other environments.
The latter part wasn’t an option for Rol’en’gorek yet, but there were still others.
“I understand that your diplomatic options in the east are practically nonexistent,” Saraca said, “but what about the west?”
Rana Saj glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.
“You mean with the Draconic Kingdom?” He said.
“Unless I’m mistaken, they’re the only formal state to your west. From what I’ve heard so far, Rol’en’gorek’s aggression has been one-sided.”
“Predators conducting diplomacy with prey, eh…I don’t think that’s possible. Especially not now. We’ve been eating them for as long as history can tell.”
“But your Merchants conduct trade with Stormport without issues,” Saraca noted.
“Merchants are Merchants,” the Rana looked forward again. “The general population does not hold the same expectations for foreign lands. Besides, it’s better for us to conquer them now that we’ve discovered that they are no threat to us.”
There were certain merits in his statement. For one, sovereign states always had a degree of resistance to foreign influence. One could not dictate policy to them unless an insurmountable advantage in power existed. Furthermore, that advantage usually had to be demonstrated at least once. Even after a clear hierarchy was established, inefficiencies still existed due to the extra layers of communication and bureaucracy.
Another problem was that feral Humans were behaviourally problematic. Their societies were insular and intolerant. Humans with power tended to get drunk on that power, and a Human nation was a collective extension of that tendency. As such, the universal approach to feral Human states was to destroy them. Cultural reform or integration would follow.
Once that was out of the way, Humans were perfectly capable of thriving wherever they found themselves. Whether they were slaves, citizens or something else depended on the civilisation they were attached to, but Humans had certain advantages that Demihumans did not. Those advantages made them especially valuable to society as professionals in a wide variety of fields.
Well, it’s not like I’m here to force our culture onto theirs, and it isn’t as if I could.
His mission was to investigate the country and make inroads if they proved to be suited for inclusion into the Confederacy’s sphere of influence. To the Confederacy Council, gaining such an ally was much faster than colonising new lands. Adoption of Confederacy culture was a long process that couldn’t be rushed, and it was still yet to be seen if they qualified as allies at all.